#cmiyc ff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hungermakesmonsters · 23 days ago

Text

Take Me By The Hand

A Catch Me if You Can one-shot

Plot Summary : It's been three months since you married Billy Russo on that beach in Mexico. Three happy months. Now a shocking discovery threatens to tear everything apart and has you questioning what you and Billy want for the future.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Pregnancy mentions and smutty behaviour.

Word Count : 6k

A/N : I promised a little continuation so here it is. It was really nice going back to these two after so long. If you haven't read Catch Me if You Can, I'd suggest starting here

Master List

Three Months Later.

“Well?”

Karen’s voice broke through your silent panic, pulling you back to the moment.

You stared blankly at the stall door, knowing she was about one second from trying to kick it down to get her answer (and, honestly, you weren’t sure her new Manolo Blahnik’s could handle it).

“I - I can’t look,” you said, your eyes fixed forward while your hands gripped the plastic strip.

If you looked down, everything was going to change. Your whole life would be turned on its head. Ultimately, it didn’t even matter what the result was because there was no way that you weren’t going to feel some strong emotion about it.

“You need to look, it can mess up the result if you leave it too long,” Karen said, toeing the line between being gentle and firm.

“I know, I just - I can’t.”

There was no explaining it, no putting it into words, because you’d never allowed yourself to consider a moment like it. You’d never thought that this was where your life would lead.

“Do you want me to look?” She offered.

No.

Yes.

Truthfully, you wished she’d never put the idea in your head to begin with.

But, you knew that she was right; you needed to look. You needed to know. So, you stood, slowly unlocked the door and let it swing open.

Karen looked about as nervous as you felt, but she tried to force a reassuring smile as she held out her hand. You hesitated for a second before handing over the pregnancy test, feeling like you were going to be sick - and, maybe you would have been, if you hadn’t already spent the morning throwing up.

“Oh,” Karren muttered. “Shit.”

And that did not help matters.

“What? What does it say?” You asked, not even bothering to try and hide your panic anymore.

Karen took a breath and it felt like the longest two seconds of your life.

“It’s... it’s positive.”

“Oh.”

You slipped past her and headed to the sink to wash your hands.

“Oh? Is that really all you’re going to say?” Karen asked, placing the test down and washing her own hands in the sink next to yours.

“I - I don’t know.”

Suddenly you felt numb, like it was all happening to someone else and you were just a spectator. It didn’t feel real and, as much as you tried to think about it one way or another, you didn’t know how you felt about it.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright,” Karen offered.

“Is it?”

“Have you and Billy really never talked about kids before?”

“No...”

To say it out loud made you realise just how ridiculous you’d been - but what was life with Billy if not ridiculous? You’d known him for ten months before marrying him and, now, three months into that marriage, you were realising that you had no idea what he wanted for the future. More than that, you didn’t even know what you wanted.

“Fuck,” you muttered, gripping the edges of the sink and holding on for dear life. “What am I gonna tell him?”

“The truth,” Karen answered, drying her hands. “Tell him the truth so you can decide what you want together.”

“What if we want different things?”

That was what scared you the most, that you might find yourself wanting something that Billy wasn’t prepared to give, or that he might want something that you couldn’t give.

“Billy loves you, whatever happens, you’ll figure it out together.”

Despite your panic, you knew that Karen was right. After everything you’d been through with Billy, you knew that neither one of you would ever give up on the other. He would love you and support you no matter what you chose, and you would always find a way to make sure that his feelings were taken into account. You loved each other too much for anything less.

“You’re right,” you said as you took a slow breath, forcing away the panic.”We’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t have to tell him straight away, you can take a few days while you figure out what you want, and -”

“No. I can’t hide this from him. I’ll - I’ll tell him tonight,” you said decidedly, wanting to rip the bandaid off instead of letting your worry fester. “He’s picking me up at five - he said he’s got a surprise for me...”

“I think you’re gonna be the one with the surprise...”

“Yeah...”

With another deep breath, you dried your hands and straightened your clothes, thanking Karen for her support before she headed back to her office, leaving you to go finish editing and cleaning up a couple of photographs you’d taken for tomorrow's edition of The Bulletin. And, as you worked, you found yourself clock-watching, counting down the hours until you were supposed to be meeting Billy.

By the time you left work, he was already waiting for you, standing curbside next to the Wraith. There was a smirk on his lips and the way that the low glow of the early evening sun hit his face had you slowing a little to appreciate him.

You really had married the most handsome man in New York.

As he waved, you picked up the pace, bounding down the steps towards him. Despite your uncertainty and worry, the moment you reached him you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. A playful squeal pulled from your lips as he lifted you off your feet and spun you around, leaving you feeling dizzy, drunk on his love.

“I should meet you after work more often,” he muttered against your lips, his arms holding so tight it seemed like he never wanted to let you go.

(You hoped that he didn’t. You hoped that, no matter what happened, he’d never want to let you go.)

“You should,” you said, pressing your face to his neck and holding him just as tight.

Then, reluctantly, he lowered you back to the ground. But he didn’t pull back, didn’t give you an inch of space. After three months of marriage, Billy always seemed most at ease when he had you in his arms.

“So, what’s this surprise you’ve got for me?” You asked, knowing that you couldn’t stay standing on the sidewalk in each other's arms forever.

“It wouldn’t be a very good surprise if I told you what it was, would it?”

Finally, he stepped away, opening the passenger side door and holding it open for you while you climbed into the Wraith. Your eyes then followed him as he moved around the car and slipped into the driver’s seat beside you.

He was barely suppressing a grin - whatever he wanted to show you, he was excited, practically giddy.

You knew that you were going to have to carefully pick the moment to tell him that you might be pregnant, so you didn’t ruin whatever it was that he’d planned for you.

Billy settled in but didn’t start the car, instead his attention turned to you as he awkwardly pulled something from his pocket and offered it to you.

“I’m gonna need you to wear this,” he said.

A blindfold.

For a second you just stared at him, confused.

“This better not be a sex thing right in front of my place of work, Billy,” you joked, but you knew he could sense your nervousness.

“It’s not, but now that you mention it...”

You playfully swatted his arm with the back of your hand the second he started to laugh, rolling your eyes. Looking down at the satin blindfold ( because of course Billy had bought a satin blindfold for whatever this surprise was) your smile wavered a little, nerves threatening to get the better of you.

“I’ll drive carefully,” Billy reassured you as if he’d read your mind, “I promise.”

It brought a smile to your lips to know he understood your reluctance and the discomfort you still sometimes felt while in the car, even though you trusted him implicitly and knew he’d never do anything to deliberately put you in harm's way. You took a slow breath and gave him a nod before donning the blindfold and sitting back.

His hand gave your thigh a brief but reassuring squeeze before pulling away. Then you heard the engine start and felt the car start to move.

During the drive he made small talk, asking about your day and telling you about his. It was something you did every single day, often as a way to decompress and vent about the things that had bothered you so it could all be forgotten for the night. It had become one of your favourite parts of the day, sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine, listening to Billy complain about Frank and share his excitement over new contracts.

While you spoke, you tried to figure out where he was taking you and what his surprise could be, but as the sounds of the city faded into the distance, you found yourself at a loss.

To begin with you’d thought that maybe he was taking you for dinner, but all the fancy places Billy liked to eat were right in the city. So you started to wonder if he was taking you away for the weekend, but you were sure he’d told you he was needed in the office on Sunday.

Every guess brought with it too many reasons why it couldn’t be the case but, if nothing else, you were glad of the distraction, helping you forget about the very difficult conversation you were going to need to have with him later.

After about twenty minutes, the car finally slowed, then stopped. You heard him kill the engine, then step out. There was a sound like gravel as he walked around to open your door that raised more questions.

“Let me help you out,” he said, taking hold of your hand.

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he was grinning just from the tone of his voice.

Clearly, Billy was very happy with himself.

Stepping out of the car, your earlier thoughts were confirmed as you felt gravel underfoot. The crunching beneath your boots was, you realised, one of the only sounds you could hear; it was eerily quiet, save for the twittering of birds in the distance. You were definitely well outside of the city.

Billy took your arm in his and slowly started to lead you away from the car, along what must have been a gravel pathway, then he stopped. You heard him take a slow breath, trying to reign in his excitement.

His excitement would have been infectious if it hadn’t been for the worry that was still gnawing at your insides.

“Okay, you can look,” he said, letting go of your arm.

Slowly, almost cautiously, you removed the blindfold and your eyes instantly widened at the sight in front of you; a huge Georgian style house with three floors set in an enclosed bit of land with fences and trees concealing it from the road and from any other homes in the neighbourhood.

The lights were off and, as far as you could tell it wasn’t a fancy spa or B&B.

When you noticed the For Sale sign the penny finally dropped.

While you’d playfully talked about eventually moving out of the city, some part of you had never believed that Billy would ever actually do it. The penthouse was his home, the first and only stable home he’d ever known, the first big purchase he’d made when Anvil started turning a profit.

And you loved the penthouse too, even if you still thought of it as Billy’s home three months into your marriage. Still, as you stood looking at the beautiful house in front of you, you couldn’t help but wonder what-if.

“You brought me to look at a house?” You asked, smiling awkwardly, too overcome by too many different emotions to really know what to think about any of it.

Billy nodded and took hold of your hand. “I saw the listing a few days ago and - just wait until you see it, you’re gonna fall in love with it.”

He didn’t wait before starting to lead you towards the house, looking as excited as a kid at Christmas as he pulled the keys from his pocket.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a realtor or something to show us around?” You asked.

“I pulled some strings so we can look around just the two of us.”

You gave him a look that said it all; of course he did.

Billy half-lead, half-pulled you into the house and into a large reception room, hitting the lights on his way in. His eyes fixed on you and drinking in the sight of you getting your first look at the interior of the house. There was a large wooden staircase leading up to the first floor, and the space alone was bigger than the apartment that you’d shared with Tammy before moving in with Billy.

Before you could even think to comment on the space or how spectacular it looked, Billy was steering you through another door and into the main room, the living room. There was a huge brick fireplace and, without any furniture, the space just seemed impossibly massive.

Instantly you found yourself thinking about gatherings, parties, that you could hold in the space, and how it would look with a large Christmas tree in the corner. And, of course, such thoughts had you spiralling, thinking about how the room would look filled with gifts for a child, and how Billy’s face would light up with another person to spoil rotten.

His hand tugged yours, pulling you from the thought as he guided you to the patio doors. Despite the fact that it was slowly starting to get dark outside, you could still see well enough to see the massive backyard and the -

“Is that a swimming pool?”

It felt like some crazy fever dream. That is, until you remembered who you were married to. The house and everything about it was so completely and utterly Billy; stylish but ostentatious, charming but completely over the top.

Billy stood behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder as you both looked out.

“Just think, in the summer we’ll be able to spend days by the pool, drinking beer and getting wet,” he murmured in your ear.

The innuendo wasn’t lost on you but, while Billy was thinking about poolside sex, you were starting to worry about keeping a child safe around a swimming pool. You’d need to keep an eye on them at all times, and you’d have to make sure they learned to swim at an early age and -

Again you started to think about Billy with the child, picturing him in the pool, your child in his arms, kicking as splashing as he taught them to swim, making sure they were always completely safe.

Slowly but surely, you started to realise that you wanted it. You wanted to see Billy with your child, sharing tender moments and all the love that you knew he was full of but often didn’t know what to do with.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked softly.

You realised that you’d been quiet, not even responding to his joking. You turned in his arms and pressed a soft kiss to his lips to reassure him.

“I’m fine, this is all just... unexpected,” you explained. “But it’s amazing. Just - just a lot to wrap my head around.”

Billy nodded before gently taking your hand again and leading you through an adjoining room; the dining room.

Fortunately he didn’t linger, otherwise you would have been overwhelmed with thoughts of feeding times and Billy making ridiculous airplane noises while trying to get the baby to eat.

He didn’t stop until you were in the kitchen, turning to grin at you as your breath caught.

It was sleek and modern, a wide open space with an island in the middle, a breakfast bar and double oven.

“What do you think?” He asked, letting go of your hand so you could explore.

“We could have so many dinner parties,” you answered excitedly, running a finger over the marble countertop. “I could bake so many cakes, and learn to make fresh bread...”

The possibilities were endless.

It wasn’t even that the kitchen in the penthouse wasn’t amazing, but this kitchen had so much space, and you felt like you’d be able to cook and bake whenever you wanted without disturbing Billy.

You let out a squeal as Billy suddenly lifted you off your feet and deposited you on the island, instinctively parting your legs so he could stand between them and press his body close to yours. As he leaned in to kiss you, your fingers slipped into his hair, never wanting to let him go, never wanting to forget the way he made you feel.

“I like these counters,” he muttered against your lips, “they’re just the right height.”

To prove his point, he pressed his hips to yours, letting you feel the soft outline of his cock between your thighs. He wasn’t hard, but you knew just how quickly that could change if you decided to indulge him. But there was still so much of the house you wanted to see.

Laughing, you held him close. “Have you been looking around try to find all the best places to fuck me in here?”

Billy grinned and it was really all the answer that you needed.

“I’ve definitely been thinking about how much fun we could have in front of the fireplace in winter,” he said before capturing your lips in another eager kiss.

The spark between you would never fizzle, the want and longing you felt for each other would never go away - at least, you hoped it wouldn’t. You hoped that your secret wouldn’t be enough to destroy things.

You forced the thought away. No matter what came of telling Billy about your potential pregnancy, there was no part of you that thought he’d leave you over it. There was no part of you that would let him.

“Now I get why you didn’t want a realtor showing us around,” you said, your fingers still curled in his hair. As much as you might have wanted to stay in that moment forever, you were curious about the rest of the house and you knew the longer you dragged things out, the harder it would be to tell him. “So, where’s next on the tour?”

Billy’s grin stayed firmly on his lip as he helped you down from the counter and took your hand again. You loved seeing how excited he was to share everything with you, to show you a house that could potentially become your home, a home that you could build together.

He led you up the stairs and to the end to the end of the hall, opening the first door. It was a sizable bedroom with a modern ensuite bathroom. With no furniture, there wasn’t much to see so he quickly moved to the next door and opened it.

“I thought this one could be a good office for you,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze. “We could put in a desk, some shelves, and you could edit your photos in here, and there’s space upstairs that you could use as a studio.”

It almost brought tears to your eyes to hear just how much thought he’d put into it, wanting to make sure that you had space for your photography, something you didn’t really have in the penthouse.

The next three doors were more bedrooms, then there was another room that Billy explained would be his office. You weren’t sure why he’d chosen that room in particular until you were led into the next room; the master bedroom.

He wanted his office close to the bedroom, so he could be near you when he had to work late.

Unlike the other rooms, there was a king sized bed in the master bedroom and the en-suite had a clawfoot bathtub as well as a walk-in shower that was more than big enough for the two of you.

Strangely, it was the sight of the bed that broke you. While everything had been mounting up since you’d taken the pregnancy test hours before, it was the thought of lazy Sunday mornings in bed with Billy that had tears starting to prickle at the corners of your eyes.

Sniffling awkwardly, you turned away from him, fingers scrubbing at your eyes, desperate to keep the tears from falling.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He asked, confusion and worry warring for place in his tone.

You had to force yourself to turn back towards him, still desperately trying to fight the tears that were determined to fall. Your lips parted but no words came - you weren’t sure what to tell him or how to even start to explain.

“Sweetheart,” he said again, his voice threatening to break. “What’s wrong? Please - tell me what’s wrong. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

For a few seconds all you could do was shake your head, knowing that you were about to change everything.

“You’re scaring me,” he confessed softly and your heart broke.

“I -” you managed to force the word, knowing that you couldn’t stay silent, “- I think I might be pregnant.”

“What?”

His question hung in the air between you for a few seconds as you mind scrambled over all the different ways he could mean that one little word. Billy’s expression gave nothing away, like he didn’ know exactly how to feel because he didn’t understand what you were trying to tell him.

“I thought you were...” he started and then stopped. “I thought you were on the pill.”

“I was - I am, but -” you took an awkward breath, “- last month, when we went to visit Sam...”

There was a flicker of realisation on his face; you’d forgotten your pills and, after a few too many glasses of wine, you were both more than happy to forget about protection in favour of intimacy.

“I’m so sorry,” you continued, the worry you’d spent hours trying to suppress finally bubbling to the surface.”I know we’ve never even talked about having kids, and I don’t know if you want even them and I - I just don’t want you to think that I did this on purpose, because I didn’t. I promise, Billy, I -”

“Hey, sweetheart, hey,” he said firmly, taking your face in his hands and stopping you from descending into further panic. “Just breathe, okay? I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not. How could I be?”

He was right, how could he be upset? If you were pregnant it was because of a bad decision that you had made together.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, not sure what else you could say.

“What are you sorry for?” He asked softly, still holding your gaze as he gave a reassuring smile.

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain before admitting; “I don’t know what I want.”

“You don’t know if you want a baby?”

You nodded.

Billy didn’t say anything, instead he gave you time to put your thoughts and feelings into words.

“When Scott wanted kids, I was terrified. I knew he’d be a terrible father, and I couldn’t bear the thought of putting a child through that, but with you...” you trailed off, thinking of all the little moments you’d pictured as he’d shown you around the house, thinking about the future you could have together. “When I think about how good you are with Sam’s kids I - I know you’d be an amazing father. You’d love and cherish our baby, and keep them safe, but I...”

“What?” He prompted gently.

“What if I fuck up? What if I fuck up like I did with Lilly?” You asked, your voice turning quiet.

His arms wrapped around you almost instantly, and you found yourself pulled tight against his chest. In the time you’d been together, you’d confided with him more and more about your little sister, the events surrounding her death, and how you still felt responsible, so you knew Billy completely understood what you were trying to say.

“You won’t,” he said with absolute certainty.

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you, sweetheart. And I know me. And between the pair of us, I know that there’s nothing that we wouldn’t do to keep any child of ours safe and happy,” he told you firmly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I won’t let you fuck up, just like you won’t let me fuck up.”

Pulling back a little, you stared up at him.

“Does that mean... do you want to have a baby with me?”

Billy looked at you, seeming a little lost in the moment, and you couldn’t blame him. It was a lot to drop on him, especially when you were looking at a house and he’d been planning out your child-free future.

You weren’t the only one with childhood trauma; he’d been abandoned and hurt, he’d been left feeling worthless and alone. And, as he looked at you, you could have sworn that you saw a flicker of the uncertain boy that he used to be so many years ago.

He had just as many reasons to fear parenthood as you did.

“I’d never leave them,” you said as a gentle promise. “I’d never do what she did to you. And I’ll never leave you either.”

“I know you won’t.”

“And I would never let anyone hurt them the way you were hurt.”

He looked at you for a second, his eyes wet as he slowly blinked, fighting to stay in control of himself.

“We protect each other,” he said, “and we protect our child.”

“Does that mean -”

Again, there was another pause.

“Yes. I want to have a family with you,” he finally said.

For a few long seconds, he just stared into your eyes, then he was kissing you again, stealing your breath and the last shreds of your sanity. You barely noticed you were being moved until you felt the wall at your back, and the press of his body against yours.

“If we’re having a kid, we’re definitely gonna need a big house like this one,” you muttered against his lips, smiling and feeling like a weight had been lifted from you.

“Good thing I signed the papers yesterday.”

“What?”

“The house - it’s already ours, sweetheart.”

Despite your best attempts to pull back and wrap your head around what he’d just told you, you found yourself lost in his kiss again. All the changes that were suddenly happening in your life left you feeling dizzy and, for the longest time, you let him kiss you because it felt like the only sane and rational thing in your life, the only thing that made any sense.

“You bought us a house?” You asked when you finally managed to pull yourself from the kiss long enough to speak.

“I did,” he answered, finally pulling back a little, letting you see the sheepish smile on his lips. “I know I should’ve waited, but I fell in love with it when I saw it, and I wanted to surprise you.”

“I love it too. It’s perfect, Billy.” Then a beat later, you added; “thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?” He asked, confused.

“Because you’re amazing and I love you so so much and -” your voice trembled under the weight of your emotions, “- and I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for you. You make me so happy, Billy.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. You’re everything to me and all I ever want to do is make you happy.”

“You do, Billy. You’re the best husband I ever could have asked for, and I know you’ll be the best father to our baby.”

He looked at you, unable to speak, unable to find the words to express everything he was feeling, but he didn’t have to. You already knew just by looking at him what he wanted to tell you, all the emotions, all the untempered love that was raging behind his dark eyes. So you decided to make things easier for him, and you kissed him again, pulling his body against yours, communicating in a language he understood and spoke fluently.

From there it could only escalate.

Greedy hands pushed his jacket from his shoulders and your fingers started to tug at the buttons of his shirt, while he helped rid you of your blouse. The kiss became more hungry and Billy’s hands roamed your body, looking for the zipper holding your skirt up. You barely noticed it slipping down your legs, but there was no missing the sound of his fingers tearing through your tights and then your panties.

“Billy! How many times -”

Before you could even finish your complaint, his lips had covered yours again, swallowing down grumbles and moans alike. Honestly, you’d all but given up on trying to stop him from destroying your underwear, knowing that he’d replace it, and that he’d quickly developed a fondness for taking you lingerie shopping.

Once his shirt was open, your own hand started to tug at his belt, rushing to get it open before starting on the fastenings of his pants, while Billy’s fingers dipped between your thighs.

By that point it was almost like a dance and you both knew the steps well. Billy knew just how to touch you to make you shiver and keen against him, your fingers pushing down his pants and boxers while his fingers started to work you into a frenzy.

“I love you,” he muttered as his fingers stirred between your folds.

Your back arched, your own fingers lightly gripping his cock, drawing a groan from Billy. You had all the time in the world but there was something rushed and desperate about the moment, a need you both felt to be with each other in the most primal of ways.

You moaned as a finger slipped inside of you and hitched your thigh on his hip. It didn’t take much to get you ready for him, his finger alone had you feeling wet and needy for your husband, eager for so much more.

He lifted you off your feet without ceremony, still kissing you as his finger was replaced by his cock. One of your legs wrapped around his weight while the foot of the other pressed back against the wall, letting you move against him and meet his thrusts as he started to fuck you.

It wasn’t a gentle thing - it couldn’t be, not when you were both feeling so much. You were reestablishing your connection, showing the other that, even though so much had suddenly changed, that the way you felt about each other was still the same. You loved him. Every single part of him, the rough and the gentle.

“Billy,” you cried out, over and over, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, pressing his lips to your neck. “I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

Once upon a time those words had been so difficult for him, but now they came freely and you knew he meant them.

Your hand slipped to the back of his head, fingers gripping his hair and forcing his head back so you could look at him, so he could see the utter sincerity on your face.

“I love you too,” you told him. “You’re mine.”

“All yours, sweetheart.”

And, that was that. It was all that needed to be said. Nothing was going to change between you, not really. Even with a baby, you’d still love each other just the same; you’d be yours and you’d be his.

You came suddenly, his name on your lips as you did.

Billy slowed but remained inside you, unsated. He smiled, watching you as you fell apart for him, biting his lip as your fingers continued to tug at his hair.

Before you could even come down from the high, he was carrying you across the room towards the bed.

The moment you hit the mattress, you couldn’t help but start laughing.

“I was wondering why the bed was the only piece of furniture in the whole house,” you said, pulling him close, reveling in the weight of his body on top of yours and the way he felt inside of you.

Billy’s lips pulled into a grin as he stared down at you. “Well, I was hoping that this was how the tour would end. I wanted to... give it a good climax.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, but before you could say anything, Billy started to move his hips again. This time he fucked you with long, slow strokes, allowing you both to enjoy the moment. It didn’t last long but Billy managed to pull one more orgasm from you before his own hit.

For a few minutes he stayed on top of you, reluctant as ever to pull out or move away from you, and when he did move, it was only to roll onto his side beside you.

You laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling of your new bedroom, while Billy began to absentmindedly ghost his fingers over your belly in a way that almost tickled.

“I’ll have my office in the room next to yours,” he said, breaking the silence.

Frowning, you turned your head to look at him.

“The nursery should be next to the bedroom,” Billy explained.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about?” You asked, a warm fondness filling you.

“Well, we’ve only got eight months to figure everything out.”

Seeing him already making new plans, completely altering his life for you and a baby made your heart feel like it was going to burst. You'd always loved Billy deeply, but in that moment you loved him even more that you’d ever thought possible.

“What else are you thinking about?” You dared to ask.

“Well, with a nursery, we'll still have two spare rooms…”

It took you a few moments to grasp his meaning.

“You mean… you want more than one?”

“Sweetheart, if we're doing this, we might as well do it right,” he said, grinning as he lifted his head to kiss you again.

“How many do you want?” You asked, laughing at how surreal it all felt.

“Well, I think the first one is going to need a friend, a sibling to have their back,” he said, trying to sound serious while fighting back a grin, “but the two of them will probably need a third to help them settle arguments...”

“Three? You want to have three kids?”

Being one of three, it shouldn’t have seemed like such a shocking idea to you but, given only an hour ago you’d been terrified that the thought of a baby might tear your marriage apart, you really hadn’t been expecting things to move so quickly.

“Three to begin with -”

“To begin with?” You interrupted.

Billy laughed at your panic, pressing his lip to yours.

“If they’re yours and mine, I want as many as we can have - a whole baseball team,” Billy said, as if it was the most reasonable and rational request. “It’ll take a lot of work to make that many babies, but I’m up for it if you are.”

“You’re insane, Mr Russo,” you said, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him back into another kiss, “and completely insatiable.”

A/N : I've been wanting to do this for a while and I'm glad I finally got the chance. Even though I was always happy with how I ended CMiYC, I've always had loads a little head canons about how their happily-ever-after plays out. In the future I'll probably do more of these little one shots.

For regular follows of my blog, I don't think I'll be posting anything proper next week, though I'm hoping to at least have a sneak peek for my next full fic that I'm going to start posting on the 31st, but next week is basically going to be spent planning the next Billy fic and the new Bucky fic I want to start sometime next month, and maybe doing requests? I'm not sure yet, watch this space (I'm bad at planning things.)

Also I think I got everyone that asked to be tagged in Billy things? If not, please yell

Billy Russo Tag list :

@oliviaewl @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @benbarnesprettygurl @dreadfulxives18 @danzer8705

@snowkestrel

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #cmiyc ff

69 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 20 days ago

Note

Congrats! 💕 I love to escape into your fics.l!

How about a Take Me By The Hand coda with pregnant reader? How attentive is Billy to readers needs, wants and desires do you think?

😭😭😭 omg okay yes, I love this and I love any and all opportunities to show how much that version of Billy loves to dote on his wife (and as it turns out most of her wants and needs are food related). After writing this, I do kinda want to write more like it at some point because I think it turned out extremely cute. Hope you like it and thanks for the request!

Your Eyes

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Fic Universe : Catch Me if You Can/Take Me By The Hand

Story Rating : PG

Warnings : Pregnancy, hormonal reader.

Billy awoke to find your side of the bed cold and empty. A quick glance at his phone told him that it was 03:37. Instinctively he then looked towards the en-suite but found no light spilling from beneath the door.

"Sweetheart?" He called softly.

When he got no answer, Billy sat up, then got out of bed, stopping only momentarily to pull on a pair of boxers.

It didn't take long for him to find you — you were in the kitchen and you weren't exactly being quiet, opening and closing cupboards as you shuffled around, clearly looking for something.

"Sweetheart?"

His heart lurched in his chest as you turned to him, your eyes red and filled with tears. Your hand moved to your mouth to stifle a sob, leaving him wondering just how long you'd been down there, quietly crying.

Billy cleared the distance between you and gathered you in his arms, holding you tight.

"What's wrong?" He asked, needing to know how to help you, how to fix whatever this was.

There was no hiding the panic and the worry in his voice and, had you been in a better frame of mind, you would have sought to soothe him and reassure him that the issue at hand wasn't quite as catastrophic as you were making it seem.

"I — I'm hungry," you said awkward gasped sobs. "I'm always so hungry and tired."

"Oh, sweetheart," he said tenderly, pressing his lips to the top of your head, "what do you want to eat?"

"Mac and cheese but —" you took another awkward and gasped breath, shuddering in his arms, "— there isn't any."

He did his best to bite back a smile, knowing that it wasn't the time for it, even though he knew, come morning, you were going to be embarrassed by your behaviour. His hand ran up and down your back in a soothing motion, trying to settle you as he had done dozens of times before.

You weren't having the easiest of times with your pregnancy, but Billy had made it a point to be with you every step of the way. Including making sure the kitchen was stocked with all of your favourites.

"I picked up more mac and cheese on my way home," he told you softly.

He lingered for a minute before pulling away from you, moving across the kitchen to the cabinet above the microwave and opened it to show a whole shelf full of packs of mac and cheese.

Billy smiled, daring to hope that the problem was solved. What he didn't expect was for you to start sobbing again.

"That's not where it goes," you told him, pressing your hand to your mouth and crying all the more.

For a few seconds, all Billy could do was look at you, rendered speechless. Part of him wanted to laugh while another part of him wanted to join you in crying. But, again, he knew that you were tired and that your hormones were wreaking havoc on your emotions.

Grabbing a box from the cupboard, he quickly made his way back to you and pulled you into another hug, letting you cry against his bare chest for a few minutes until you started to settle again.

"Go back to bed, sweetheart. I'll make you something to eat," he told you, loosening his hold on you.

Reluctantly, you nodded, and Billy watched as you slowly left the kitchen and headed back upstairs.

It wasn't until you crawled back into bed and looked at your phone that you realised just how late it was. It was almost four in the morning and you had your poor husband in the kitchen making you food. It made you feel worse, terrible even. So much so that when Billy made his way into the bedroom with a tray full of food and not just the promised mac and cheese, you almost started crying again.

He set the tray on your lap and climbed back into bed beside you, but you didn't start eating.

"What's wrong?" Billy asked, ready to leap out of bed to get anything he might not have anticipated you wanting.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly, your voice trembling and threatening to break.

"Sweetheart, what for?"

"For waking you up — I know you're tired, and you've got work in the morning and —"

"Hey, no, don't be like that," Billy interrupted. "We're in this together, okay? Me and you. Whatever you need, whenever you need it."

As much as you might have wanted to argue, there was something firm in his tone, telling you that he wasn't going to let you argue.

"I'm sorry for being so upset all the time," you added.

"You don't have to apologise for anything," he told you, reaching for you hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I know none of this has been easy for you but, I promise you, I'm here for you. so, eat your mac and cheese before it gets cold, okay?"

As you nodded and reached for the fork, Billy reached across and plucked a chocolate chip cookie from the tray. He put the whole thing in his mouth and his ridiculousness managed to get a laugh from you.

"I'll work from home tomorrow," he said as he wiped cookie crumbs from his lips, "and you can rest. I'll look after you until you're feeling better."

"What if it doesn't get better," you asked between mouthfuls of cheesy pasta. "What if I'm like this for the next six months?"

"Then I'll spend the next six months looking after you," Billy answered, not hesitating for even a second.

"You can't take that much time off work."

"Sweetheart, it's my company. I can do whatever I want, so stop worrying about me."

You fell silent as you continued to eat; first the mac and cheese, then the remaining cookies, followed by a nibble on the bar of chocolate. The rest of the various little snacks were then ignored in favour of the chocolate milkshake he'd brought you, knowing it was your favourite.

When you were finished, Billy moved the tray, leaving it on the vanity to be dealt with in the morning. Then he snuggled up beside you in bed, tenderly placing his hand on your stomach.

"I love you," he muttered softly, letting out a contented sigh as you rest your head on his shoulder and started to settle down.

"Even though I'm acting like a crazy person?"

Billy let out a soft laugh and shook his head.

"You're not. But, yeah, even if you were, I'd still love you because you're mine and I'm yours. And, in six month times, all of this is going to be worth it when we get to meet our beautiful little girl."

"Little girl?" You repeated, yawning. "You think it's a girl?"

You'd both agreed that you didn't want to know, that it didn't matter. But Karen was already completely convinced that you'd have a girl, and she was already looking forward to being Auntie Karen to your daughter.

"Yeah, I think it's a girl. And I think she's gonna be beautiful and amazing like her mom," Billy answered.

You closed your eyes and let out a contented sigh of your own, exhausted but happy and, finally, relaxed.

"I want her to have your eyes," you murmured, already half asleep.

"Yeah?"

He waited a moment for your answer before realising you'd finally gone back to sleep.

A/N : if anything looks weird in terms of formatting in this, I wrote this in Ellipsus because I'm trying to move away from google docs.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #cmiyc ff #500 follower celebration yay

48 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 10 months ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Epilogue

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

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R - smut

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

Word Count : ~2.7k

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

Epilogue

TWO MONTHS LATER

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

You made it six weeks before changing your mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, are we?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Billy!” You laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have a great weekend!

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705 @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith @uncontainedsmiles @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lilliesofmay @billyrussoslut @readingabouthim @arwensloanebarnes @scarlettrikstr @daughterofautumn @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @rosesintj @bunnygirlwriter876 @maddiedrmr @naabbie @arieltwvdtohamflash @yukimaniac

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #cmiyc ff #billy russo imagine

165 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 11 months ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twenty-Four

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R - some violence

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Violence and death (as expected tbh), Krista being a mega bitch again, and some vague mentions of Billy's childhood trauma. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~5.1k

A/N : The aftermath of the last chapter.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Too late.

He got back to New York too late. It was only a matter of minutes, stuck in traffic with Karen, just around the corner from your apartment when he got the call from Frank, and his whole world came to a halt. It felt like his worst nightmare had come true. He barely heard a thing Frank said after the initial news, the only thing he could hear was a ringing in his ears as his chest got tight and he had to force himself to breathe.

Karen had to demand he pull over so she could drive, not mentioning the panic attack but giving him concerned glances all the way to the hospital.

But they were late again; you’d been taken for surgery, Frank explained, as he held Karen tight.

Billy knew that he should stay, that he should be there when you woke up. (If you woke you - no, no he couldn’t think like that, he wasn’t going to lose you. He couldn’t lose you.)

He felt lost, still reeling from the panic attack he’d suffered in the car, but he knew he needed to do something.

“I need you to stay here and tell me when she gets out of surgery -”

“Bill, what the fuck are -” Frank tried to interrupt, but Billy kept on going.

“Her brother should be on the way. I’ll text him to come here instead of the apartment. I should be back by the time -”

“Bill, there ain’t no way I’m letting you go on your own,” Frank let go of Karen and took a step forward.

“Go where? What the fuck are you talking about, she needs...” she fell silent the moment she realised what was going on. “Are you fucking insane?”

“He could’ve killed her. He’s not getting away with that,” Billy answered before looking to Frank. “You should stay here.”

“The hell I am.” Frank countered. Billy knew there was no arguing with him and that they didn’t have time. “Karen, can you stay here and let us know if anything happens?”

“I guess there's no talking you out of this?” She sighed.

“He can't get away with this,” Billy shook his head.

“What about the cops?” She asked. “Can't they -”

“He's already tried to kill her once before, I'm not letting him have a third go,” Billy answered impatiently, “Can you just -”

“Yeah, I’ll keep you up to date. Just be careful,” her gaze lingered on Frank before shifting to Billy, “both of you.”

Both men nodded before heading for Frank’s truck. There was no conversation - there was really nothing to say, they both knew where they were heading and what needed to be done. The only stop was at Anvil, to collect what they needed and change vehicles, all the while acting like everything was perfectly normal and that they weren’t about to do some unspeakable and terrible thing.

There was a blind rage inside of him, the likes of which he’d never felt before. He’d been driven to violence in the past, but he’d never felt it so intensely before. All he could think about was how he could have lost you, how he could still lose you. Frank spoke from time to time, but Billy had no idea what he was saying. He couldn’t hear anything above the ringing in his ears and all of his own panicked thoughts.

He knew that Frank was probably still trying to talk him out of it, telling him that it wasn’t too late to go back to the hospital and wait for you to get out of surgery, but Billy knew that he couldn’t. He couldn’t face you again until he'd put things right, until he knew you’d never be in any danger again.

When the van finally stopped, he looked at Frank, catching the worry on his friend’s face.

“You don't have to do this, Bill,” Frank offered, trying to give his friend a way out. “We could leave it to the cops...”

“What would you do if it was your girl in the hospital?”

Frank hesitated a moment. “I'd tear the fucker limb from limb.”

“Exactly. You should get outta here before anyone sees you, Frankie.” Billy told him, pulling up his hood and grabbing the duffle of supplies he’d packed at Anvil. “I’ll meet you at the hospital later, let me know if...” he couldn’t even bring himself to say it, let alone think about it.

Frank gave a nod and Billy closed the door, stepping away from the car. He took a breath, forcing away every thought except for one; his mission.

They’d known where Scott was staying the moment he got into the city, even though the AirBnB was booked under a fake name and paid for using a store-bought prepaid credit card. Truth was, that Billy had had one of the analysts at Anvil tracking Scott’s movements ever since he found out about the PI, and it had always been his intention to keep you safe without you even knowing.

But he’d failed. Your decision to come back to New York had made it impossible, and he hadn’t been able to get Frank to you in time to stop Scott from hurting you.

And, now, Scott was going to pay.

Billy moved slowly but purposefully, getting off the street and into the building as quickly as possible. There was no surveillance in the area, but he still couldn’t risk anyone stopping him. Recon showed that the building was mostly empty at the moment; most of the apartments were owned by the same asshole, all put up on AirBnB causing rent prices in the area to skyrocket. A real fucking racket.

But, there was an empty apartment between Scott and the next occupied unit and that was good news for Billy, and he made his way up to the fourth floor completely unnoticed. When he reached the door, Billy dropped to his knees and made quick work of picking the lock.

Once he was in the apartment, he quietly placed the bag down by the door. It didn’t take him long to find his target, lounging on the sofa like he didn’t have a care in the world. The asshole even had his gun just sitting there on the coffee table. Billy took a breath before unsheathing his knife and clearing his throat, alerting Scott to his presence.

He went for the gun on the table, but Billy was faster, his blade cutting so deep into Scott’s wrist that it severed tendons before he could even think about trying to pull the trigger. The gun dropped to the floor and Billy kicked it away, having no use for it.

Scott clutched his bleeding wrist to his chest, staggering backwards.

“What the fuck -”

“Don’t play dumb, Scott. We both know why I’m here; you hurt someone I care about, and I can’t let you keep living after that.” Billy almost smirked at the flash of fear and realisation that spread across Scott’s face.

“You’re the boyfriend, right?” He grit out. “You think that little whore is worth it? Do you even know who I am? Do you know what’ll happen to you if -”

Billy’s boot connected with his stomach, winding him and effectively silencing him. Scott continued to stagger back until his back was against the wall.

“She’s more than worth it,” Billy snarled. “And I know exactly who you are - I know what you are. Your family might be a big deal in Florida but you’re nothing in New York.”

Billy found a sense of satisfaction in the way Scott was practically cowering. It made him think about you, about all the times this piece of shit made you feel scared. Never again. He was going to see to it that you never had to worry about this prick again. And, for all of his posturing, he was pretty sure that Scott had reached the same conclusion that he had; he was about to die.

“I can pay you; just name your price,” he tried a different tack, trying to appeal to Billy as a businessman, pressing himself back against the wall like he thought he still had somewhere to hide.

“You’re gonna pay, just not with money,” He fought back a grin as the distance between them shrank to nothing at all, his blade pressed against Scott’s stomach. “The price is your life for her freedom. I can’t give her back the time you took from her, the time she spent scared and looking over her shoulder, but I can make it so she never has to worry about you again.”

Scott swung an awkward punch, catching Billy on the cheek, and he was repaid with a knee to the stomach.

“You really are pathetic, aren’t you?” Billy let out a huff of laughter, his free arm pinned against Scott’s throat, holding him in place. “Guess that’s why you went after a girl six years younger than you.”

“Are you really prepared to kill for that bitch?” He managed to choke out. “She tell you she loves you? Know how many times she told me that? She’s a liar, she’s -”

Billy pressed forward, the knife sinking in.

“Keep talking, please, give me a reason to make this slow,” he spoke through gritted teeth, face barely inches from Scott’s, struggling to hold himself back, while Scott tried to push him away. “No? You done talking? Not so fucking scary when you’re dealing with a grown man, are you? Guess I’m harder to push around -”

“I loved her!” He managed in an awful, painful gasp, as if that made anything better, as if he thought that might convince Billy that there was a reasonable explanation for what he’d done.

“No,” Billy snapped, twisting the knife. “I love her. And I’d rather die than hurt her like you did.”

He didn’t wait for a response, pulling back the knife before sinking it in, again and again. As he listened to the choked, wet gasps for breath, every ounce of anger came to the fore. He loved you - he loved you so fucking much, and this asshole had tried to take you away from him.

For a few moments he lost himself to it, to the rage and anger and pain inside of him. And the last thing Scott got to hear was Billy repeating those three simple and terrifyingly complicated words; “I love her.”

It wasn’t until he finally stepped back that he realised he wasn’t alone. Frank was there - how long he’d be there, Billy couldn’t say and he didn’t want to guess.

“I told you -”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Frank shrugged, dropping the duffle Billy had left by the door, filled with things they’d need to get rid of the body. “Wasn’t going to leave you to do this alone, brother. We need to get this cleaned up, Karen says they should be finishing surgery soon.”

For a few seconds both men stood, looking at the body and the mess that Billy had created.

“Shit, Bill,” Frank muttered.

“I love her, Frankie,” Billy admitted quietly, sounding more scared than Frank had ever heard him.

Frank placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and offered a reassuring squeeze. “I know you do. She’s gonna be alright. Doctor’s told Karen it was a through-and-though, didn’t hit anything vital.”

“Guess this prick was as bad a shot as he was a boyfriend,” Billy shook his head, silently glad of the fact.

“Yeah,” Frank huffed. “Think I saw a suitcase in the hallway big enough to stuff him in.”

“Right,” Billy nodded, knowing that they needed to get moving, but it took him a moment to tear himself from his thoughts. “I’ll go get some water.”

Both men separated, Frank heading to the hallway to find the suitcase, while Billy made his way to the kitchen to find a bucket.

They barely spoke as they went about wrapping the body in the plastic sheeting cleaning, both knowing that it would never be perfect, but that they could destroy enough evidence to make it almost impossible for anyone to say for certain just what went on.

------------

The room came into focus slowly, your head hurt and it felt like your brain was pulsing behind your eyes. It felt like the worst hangover you’d ever had, only you didn’t remember drinking. In fact, you couldn’t remember much of anything. You closed your eyes, wanting nothing more than to drift off and sleep until the pain stopped, but then you heard it; the beep-beep-beep of a heart rate monitor. For a few terrifying seconds you were transported back in time, back to the moment you woke up in hospital after the crash.

Your stomach knotted and threatened to turn itself inside out as the sterile smell filled your nose when you tried to take a deep, calming breath. Desperately, you tried to fill in the blanks and understand what had happened; the crash had been years ago, you’d moved to New York, you’d met Billy, you’d been in Mexico...

Billy.

Where was Billy?

A clumsy hand tried to wipe your eyes, hoping to clear your vision a little more, instead finding bandages wrapped around your forehead. And, when you tried to sit, you found that you couldn’t move for the burning, throbbing pain in your abdomen.

“You’re awake,” there was something familiar about the feminine voice, but you couldn’t quite place it.

You struggled to focus on the figure sitting off to the side of your bed, blinking as your vision slowly came back into focus, though her name eluded you for a few, long moments.

“Krista?” Voice betraying your confusion. Why was Krista there?

“Good,” she smiled and shifted a little closer to you, “you remember me.”

“What happened? Why are you here?” Why were you in the hospital? Your eyes drifted from Krista for a moment, taking in the sight of your hospital room, looking for anything that might tell you what was going on.

“You don’t remember?” She asked and you shook your head. “You were shot. Luckily the bullet went right through, but it seems that you hit your head when you fell, which might account for any memory problems you’re having, though short-term memory loss can also be caused by traumatic circumstances. I’ve been asked to evaluate you and find out what you remember.”

“Where’s Billy? Why isn’t Billy here?” You tried desperately to remember the last time you’d seen him. Mexic; at dinner with him and Karen, then you’d gone back to his room and - after that, there was nothing but fuzziness. The monitor next to you started to beep faster as the panic set in. Had something happened to him too?

“We’re not sure where William is. The NYPD are looking for him -”

“Looking for him? Why?” You were struggling to follow what she was trying to tell you and it was starting to frustrate you.

“In connection with your shooting,” she said it like it was obvious, like it was fact. They thought that Billy had done this to you. “He was tracked on a private jet, arriving back in New York an hour before the shooting - from what we’ve managed to put together, you cut your vacation in Mexico short and returned back to the city alone, Billy followed you. After you were shot, his business partner, Frank Castle, found you and brought you to the hospital.”

“No, Billy would never -” your head was pounding and all you wanted to do was close your eyes again, but you knew you couldn’t. “Billy would never hurt me.”

“I know it’s not easy to admit that the man you love is capable of violence, but men with his training and his trauma -”

“What trauma?” You demanded. “You keep acting like he’s some psychopath.”

“What has Billy told you about his childhood?” She answered back with an air of smugness that had you wishing you could get out of bed and punch her.

“Everything,” you answered without hesitation, certain that you knew far more about Billy than she ever would.

“He told you about his shoulder? About Arthur Walsh?” The corner of her lip seemed to curl up ever so slightly. “He told you about the assault?”

“Yes,” you answered, not bothering to hold back your annoyance, “I know that he tried -”

“Tried? Is that what Billy told you?” you were speechless, your mind racing over the implications of her words. “Ask yourself this; why would a man like Billy, a man with an ego like his, ever admit to being hurt like that unless he was using that admission to distract from something worse. He wasn’t the only victim of Arthur Walsh, do you really think he was the only who was able to -”

“Even if that’s true, it’s not your place to tell me,” you snapped, not willing to sit there and listen to her trying to expose Billy over something that might never have happened, not when you knew that she wasn’t saying it to be helpful, she was trying to destroy Billy. “Why are you so obsessed with wanting him to be broken? He’s not going to go back to you, Krista.”

“I’ve seen hundreds of men like William, they all snap and hurt someone eventually. At least I know how to control a dangerous man like William.” She answered back.

“He’s not dangerous, and he didn’t do this to me. He’d never hurt me - you can tell the cops that.”

“Because he loves you?” Her professional facade almost dropped completely and you could hear the derision in her words. “I wonder, has he managed to say the words yet?”

“Get out!” You finally screamed, the monitor besides you along with your screaming was enough to alert a doctor to your distress. “Get the fuck out, Krista!”

She was quickly removed from your room and you were given assurances that she wouldn’t be allowed to return. The doctor took the opportunity to check your injuries and give you something extra for the pain that helped you drift off to sleep again.

A couple of hours passed before you woke again, this time feeling a little sharper than before. There was a hand holding yours tight and, for a few moments, you assumed that it was Billy. But, as you opened your eyes, you realised that wasn’t the case.

“Sam?” Again, you found yourself reliving the hours after the crash and how you’d found him at your bedside, just like this.

“Hey,” he struggled for a moment, obviously not sure what to say to you, “how are you feeling? Do you need me to get you a doctor?”

“No, I - I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

“Your boyfriend called me.” You didn’t miss the clipped way he referred to Billy. “What the fuck have you gotten yourself into this time?”

You weren’t sure what it was about the moment, whether it was the worry on your brother’s face, the tremor in his voice, or the fact that you hadn’t seen him in over two years, but you found yourself bursting into floods of tears. You hated that this was how you were seeing him again, and how you felt so pathetic and useless because of it. It felt like he’d been proven right; that you couldn’t take care of yourself.

It was overwhelming and all you could do was sob at how out of control you felt.

“I’m sorry,” you told him as he tried to hold you without hurting you.

“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to apologise,” he muttered softly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you.”

It took a few minutes for you to calm down enough to speak properly but Sam didn’t pressure you to talk, dropping back to his chair and keeping a tight grip on your hand. As upsetting as the whole situation was, you were glad that he was there with you.

“I don’t know what happened,” you told him, sniffling back more tears, trying to control the tremor in your voice. “The cops think it was Billy - it wasn’t, he’d never hurt me.”

“I know,” Sam answered with an unexpected certainty. “It was Scott. That’s how I got here so fast; Billy let me know that Scott was in New York looking for you. The cops know he didn’t do it.”

If Billy knew that Scott had done this to you, and he knew he was in New York...

“Where is he?” You demanded, voice threatening to break. “Where’s Billy?”

“He’s fine. That’s all you need to know.” There was something in his voice you didn’t like. He knew what was going on but he was deliberately keeping it from you, trying to protect you by keeping you in the dark. “He’s on his way here now.”

“But -” there were so many questions, so many things that you needed to know, but your brother shushed you.

“Don’t worry about it. The only thing you need to think about is resting, we’re taking care of everything.” Though his words did little to quell all of the panicked thoughts.

“I don’t want to stay here,” you told him suddenly. “I don’t like hospitals.”

“I know,” he sighed, squeezing your hand, “I promise I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can. Just close your eyes and rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you soon found your eyes drifting shut again, exhausted and overwhelmed by everything that was happening, and the pain medication certainly wasn’t helping. Sam kept hold of your hand until you started to fall asleep again, drifting in and out of consciousness.

You were half asleep when you heard Billy’s voice and you had to force your eyes open to make sure that he was really there and that you weren’t just dreaming it. The rough sound of Sam’s voice and the unmistakable sound of someone getting hit was enough to drag you out of your dream-like state. Your eyes opened in time to see Billy staggering backwards and frank stepping between him and your brother, trying to separate them.

“Guess I deserved that,” Billy grumbled, running a hand over his cheek.

“Damn right you do, you let this happen -”

“I was trying to keep her safe,” Billy spat back.

“Yeah, well, you did a shit job, didn’t you? She could’ve died, she -”

“Stop!” You interrupted, reminding everyone of your presence.

Whatever Billy might have wanted to say to Sam quickly died on his lips, and he moved to your side, taking your hand in his and leaning to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he muttered, his voice cracking, threatening to break.

“I won’t, I’m so sorry.” You told him, squeezing his hand as tight as you could, all but forgetting that there was anyone else in the room with you.

Billy seemed to forget too, pulling the chair beside your bed closer so he could sit and keep hold of your hand, his entire attention focused on you. Frank muttered something to Sam and, reluctantly, your brother agreed to leave you alone with Billy for a little while.

“What happened?” You dared to ask. “Last thing I remember, we were still in Mexico with Karen.”

“We had a stupid argument. You got upset with me, remember?” Billy sighed. There was a fuzzy memory in the back of your mind, a feeling of worry that you couldn’t quite place, but that was all. You shook your head. “You realised I was hiding something from you, but I didn’t want to tell you, so you left...”

“You knew about Scott,” and suddenly everything made sense.

“After that day at Anvil, I had one of our analysts start tracking him. When I found out he was heading to New York, I knew I couldn’t let you come home until we’d figured out a way to deal with him.”

“Deal with him?” You repeated as your stomach started to tie itself in knots. “Billy... what did you do?” Though you weren’t sure you wanted an answer.

He reached for you, gently brushing your hair away from your face as he let out a soft sigh. “I did what I had to,” he whispered softly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to keep you safe, but I made sure he’ll never hurt you again.”

“Billy...” you didn’t dare ask for clarification, almost certain you knew exactly what he was confessing to. Maybe you should have felt more than you did in that moment but, honestly, all you felt was relief. He’d killed a man to keep you safe and you did feel safe, you felt safer than you had in years, like you could finally breathe.

“I couldn’t risk him ever hurting you again,” his gaze lowered and his head hung forward. You could tell he was scared of what you might be thinking.

Reaching for him, you softly cupped his bruised cheek, gently urging him to look at you but, when he did, you found yourself lost for words for a few moments. What were you supposed to say? You couldn’t thank him for killing someone, and it wasn’t your place to forgive him.

“It’s okay, Billy,” is what you settled on.

“I thought I was gonna lose you,” he admitted, your heart skipping a beat at the panic in his voice, hating how vulnerable he sounded.

“The doctors say I’m gonna be fine,” you tried to reassure him, not wanting him to linger on dark thoughts like that.

“I love you,” he all but blurted out like it might be his last chance. “I should’ve told you sooner, I should’ve told you months ago. I never would’ve forgiven myself if you’d died and I hadn’t -”

“I know,” you told him softly, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “I’ve always known, Billy. You never had to say it, you’ve always shown me how much you love me.” His relief was palpable as he leaned in to press his lips to yours. Your fingers moved to tangle in his hair, holding him in the kiss for a few, sweet moments, before you muttered against his lips; “can you stay with me a little while? I - I don’t like hospitals...”

“Sweetheart, nothing is going to make me leave your side,” he smiled, sitting back and softly stroking your hair with his free hand.

It was enough to have you closing your eyes again. “I love you, Billy.”

“I love you too.”

When your eyes opened again, the room was mostly dark, save for the light that spilled in from the hallway. Billy was still with you, his head resting on folded arms on the edge of the bed, fast asleep. You couldn’t resist the urge to run your fingers through his hair, though you immediately felt guilty the moment he stirred.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he muttered sleepily, not bothering to lift his head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you told him, fingers still running through his hair. “You look tired.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll sleep when I get you home in a day or two,” he smiled up at you.

The low light in the room almost hid the bruising on his cheek until he turned his head a little and you found yourself reaching for his cheek.

“This looks sore.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sorry about Sam,” you muttered, inspecting the damage.

“I deserved it. He was right, I should’ve done more to stop this,” he shrugged.

You hated that he was making this all his fault, acting like there was anything he could have done to stop things, like he believed he should have been able to predict the future. But, you knew you weren’t going to change his mind, at least not while you were still laying in a hospital bed.

“What’s going to happen now?” Keeping your voice to little more than a whisper so you couldn’t be overheard.

“What d’you mean?” He asked, finally lifting his head a little.

“About... y’know, Scott...” you whispered, “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Me and Frank took care of it, don’t worry. Nothing bad is going to happen. Nothing bad is going to happen to you ever again, sweetheart, I promise.”

While his promise made you smile, you couldn’t help but shake your head. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Billy.”

His hand moved, covering yours and holding it against his cheek. “I mean it. There’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe and happy. You’re mine, sweetheart, and I protect what’s mine.”

You fell silent again, letting your eyes close, his hand still on yours, just enjoying being with each other again. But there was something else in the back of your mind, a thought that wouldn’t go away now matter how much you wanted it to.

“Billy, Krista was here when I woke up,” opening your eyes, you watched for a response and noticed his shoulder tick upwards.

“What did she want?”

“She tried to convince me that you were the one who shot me,” you told him. “I didn’t believe her, but then she...” you stopped, not sure you wanted to say anything. You didn’t want to ask him about it, didn’t want to put him on the spot. It wasn’t your place, just like it hadn’t been hers, but just thinking about it made your heart ache.

“What?” He gently prompted, even though you were certain he didn’t want to hear it.

“She said something about when you were a kid, when you were hurt...” you paused again and, this time, Billy didn’t prompt you to continue. The silence hung for a round thirty seconds while you decided what you wanted to say. “Whatever happened that day, I just - I want you to know that there’s nothing that could make me stop loving you.”

Billy stayed silent but you saw the way he awkwardly tried to swallow the lump in his throat. And there was something about his discomfort in that moment that helped you remember Mexico, the night you’d left his room. You remembered the argument about his panic attacks.

“I’m sorry,” you broke the silence. “I don’t want to be like Krista. I don’t want to treat you the way she did.”

“You don’t,” he shook his head, pressing your hand tighter against his cheek.

“Can you just promise me one thing?”

“Anything,” he answered without hesitation.

“I don’t need to know what causes the panic attacks, I just need to know you’re okay,” you explained as delicately as you could. “So, can you promise me that if you’re ever not okay, you’ll let me know? You don’t even need to tell me why, I just need to know so I can be there for you.”

His answer wasn’t immediate and, for a moment, you could have sworn you saw a tear in the corner of his eye.

“I promise,” he all but whispered as he leaned in to kiss you again before muttering against your lips, “I love you so much.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

END NOTES : I just want to say I loved the responses to last chapter, and I really hope this chapter lives up to the hype? It was weird trying to write Billy's POV from second person, but hopefully it didn't turn out too bad. IDK if people were expecting more from Billy confronting Scott but, ultimately I decided that Scott was a piece of shit and not worth Billy's time or effort - just in case anyone was wondering lmao.

Anyway, I'm not 100% sure yet but I think next week might actually be the last chapter of this story (or I might do one more chapter and a separate epilogue). But I'm honestly just so happy that people seem to have enjoyed reading this, and I'm so thankful for all the support and lovely messages I've received over the course of this story!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

TAG LIST

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #cmiyc ff #billy russo imagine

130 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 1 year ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Seventeen

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R - smut

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some very light choking (with enthusiastic consent) . Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~4.9k

A/N : Set the morning after the last one. I hope you enjoy some of the cuter moments in this one because I really enjoyed writing them! As always thanks so much for reading!

Chapter Seventeen

You woke to the sound of moaning, your eyes, eyes opening slowly as the ache between your legs reminded you where you were and how you’d spent last night. A sleepy yawn slipped from your and you snuggled back against Billy’s chest, content to fall asleep in his arms again. But then you heard the moaning again. You blinked, first looking up at Billy and then looking down to the phone in his hand, realising he was playing one of the videos you’d made last night.

Your cheeks started to warm immediately.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Billy smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head while he stopped the video on his phone.

“Don’t stop watching on my account,” you smiled at him as innocently as you could despite the awkward embarrassment you felt.

“You wanna watch with me?”

“Is it... good?” You dared ask, not even sure if good was really an appropriate word for it.

“I only watched the first one, but it’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Billy grinned, “you did so good, sweetheart.”

“Did I?”

“Want to see for yourself?”

“... yes.” You bit your lip nervously, not entirely sure that you meant it, but Billy gave you a few seconds to think. You tried to settle yourself in a better position to see his phone, but Billy decided that there was a better way.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he told you, smirking a smirk that sent a thrill through your whole body, and you realised just what he was thinking when he reached for the TV remote.

Moments later, the video was mirrored on the fifty inch screen on the other side of the bedroom. Your cheeks continued to burn and your thighs clenched together at the sight of the frozen image of you between his knees with every inch of his cock in your mouth. Billy hit play, turning up the volume so you could hear every little sound; every gasped breath, every eager moan, and every wet slurp as his cock slid in and out of your mouth. And, despite the creeping feeling of embarrassment, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it.

Beneath the sheets you reached for his cock, not at all surprised to find him already hard. Your hand wrapped around him while the other took hold of his hand and led it between your thighs, needing him to touch you. Neither of you spoke, neither tore your eyes from the TV. His fingers trailed through the gathering wetness of your arousal, spreading it from your slit to your clit before starting to circle the swollen bundle of nerves.

The woman on the screen desperately moaned around Billy’s cock and your breath caught at the sound, hand squeezing a little tighter as it ran along his erection. Recorded Billy’s groans got louder and louder until he finally came and you licked your lips, remembering the taste of him, as you met your own eyes on screen. She looked so happy as his cock slipped from her lips.

One video ended and Billy hit play on the next.

You watched, jaw slack as his lips ran across your chest, sucking your nipples as screen-you reached for his cock and sank down it. Billy chose that moment to sink his fingers into you, reminding you how good it felt to be full of him. You writhed against his touch, parting your thighs and letting him sink his fingers down to the knuckle.

“I’m yours, Billy. This sweet little pussy is just for you.”

Beside you, Billy moaned at the words, letting you know that he was just as affected by all of this as you were. Your hand moved faster on his cock, trying to keep time with the way you were riding him on screen.

“Always, Billy. Always yours.” The you on screen cried out as she came. You didn’t remember it, but the recording continued, words repeated over and over again, as Billy had laid you on your back and continued to fuck you. You could hear every detail, every gasp, everly slap of flesh meeting flesh, the sound of his cock roughly driving in and out of your wetness. It was no wonder you felt so gloriously sore today.

“Harder,” you’d begged, “ruin me, Billy. Make me yours forever.”

You came on his fingers suddenly, panting for breath, your whole body trembling. You couldn’t remember saying those words to him, but they felt right, they felt real to you. He had ruined you, you would be his forever.

“Billy,” you murmured, lifting your head to see his face, “fuck me. Please?”

You didn’t have to ask twice. He moved quicker than you’d anticipated, laying you back and sliding his cock into you with ease. You were so wet and ready for him, practically dripping with need. In the background you could still hear the moaning in the video and all of your desperate pleas, but soon that became secondary to the sound of his moans, here and now, as he started to fuck you - not like the Billy on the video, but instead with a slower rhythm, taking his time. You were still sensitive and he’d been pretty close before you’d let go of his cock, and he didn’t want to rush any of this.

His lips found yours, swallowing down the moans that started to slip from you, but even the kiss felt different, like something had changed between you. He wasn’t just fucking you, he was loving you the only way that he knew how. Your hand reached for his, fingers entwining, holding on as he pressed it to the pillow beside your head.

And, in the background you heard it, Billy’s deep voice, full of hunger; “you’ll always be mine. And I’m yours. Always.”

“Billy...”

If he heard it, he didn’t respond, he just gave your hand a squeeze and continued driving his cock into you in steady but deep thrusts. Your free hand slipped slowly up his back and neck until it found the back of his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him down into another kiss. More moans slipped between your lips, and you could tell he was getting close. And so were you.

“I’ll never let you go...” he’d told you in a low, possessive growl.

You cried out against his lips as you came and, seconds later, he was following suit, swallowing down your desperate moans as the you from last night on the screen cried out as she came undone. Billy gave a few more awkward shifts of his hips as he came inside you, groaning as your walls tightened around him, your body demanding everything from him as he emptied himself inside you.

When he stilled, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him against you and gently running your hand up and down his back, keeping him inside you as everything fell silent. The video had finished and the only sound between you were panted breaths. You didn’t move and neither did he, still holding your hand in his as he finally caught his breath, keeping his face hidden against your neck.

The silence dragged on and it was strange - Billy normally had something to say after making you come, but he stayed silent. You let a few minutes pass, just holding him, enjoying the weight of his body on top of you, but the quiet soon became unbearable.

“Billy?”

He didn’t answer and your heart sank. Was this because of the video? Did he regret the things he’d told you last night? Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to block out all the terrible thoughts that started to fill your head, about how you’d given yourself over to a man who’d never be interested in anything more than sex with you, a man who’d say whatever he needed to say just to make you come.

(But hadn’t he told you that that was what it would always be? Hadn’t he been honest from the start? You couldn’t be angry, it was your own fault for catching feelings, for loving him.)

“It’s okay, Billy. What you said, it was just the alcohol, it was just - I dunno. We were caught up in the moment. It’s fine, I don’t expect you to -”

“Stop,” he finally spoke, lifting himself to look at you. Somehow you managed to force something of a smile to your lips, trying to soothe the worry you saw on his face. “It’s not that.”

“Then what?” You ask, your voice threatening to break, feelings of fear and rejection threatening to drown you. “Did - did I do something wrong?”

Because that had to be it, didn’t it? You’d said too much or you’d asked too much of him, and now Billy was going to have to let you go.

“Hey, hey, no, sweetheart,” he told you softly, thumb gently caressing your cheek, wiping away a stray tear and putting a quick halt to your internal panic. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me, I’ve just - I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and it’s just a lot to try and wrap my head around. But I don’t regret it, okay? I don’t regret any of this.”

You gave a slight but subdued nod, not really understanding what any of that really meant in terms of your relationship and where things were going. When you loosened your hold, Billy took the opportunity to roll away, laying himself beside you and fixing his eyes on the ceiling. He let out a slow breath but stayed silent.

He didn’t speak again until he felt you sit up.

“I told you I grew up in the foster system, right?” He kept looking up, as if it was just easier not to look at you.

“Yeah.”

“Never told you about my mom though,” he fell silent for a second and you let him take all the time he needed. “She was a junkie, choose getting high over her own kid. She safe-haven’d me at a fire station in Albany a few hours after I was born.”

You listened in silence, your heart aching for him.

“Never even found out who my old man was,” he continued, “spent my whole childhood being moved between group homes, never staying anywhere long, never feeling wanted. So this is all new to me and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel ‘cause no one’s ever felt that way about me, and I don’t even know if I can -”

“Billy -” you interrupted, realising that he was spiralling, unable to stand to see him in any more pain.

He didn’t move, still didn’t look at you, but the look on his face made the ache in your chest worse. Lifting yourself onto your knees and leaned over him, taking his face between his hands, forcing him to look at you.

“Billy, you don’t need to know how to feel. I don’t need you to try and do anything you’re not comfortable with.” You told him softly, but firmly. “I’ll never ask you to tell me that you love me or anything like that. Those words don’t matter to me. All I care about is having you here with me. Just having you with me is enough.”

“What if it stops being enough?” He asked softly, sadly, like he thought you’d just get bored of him eventually.

“What if it doesn’t? What if you find someone else or realise you can’t stand being around me? What if you find out something about me that’s so awful you never want to see me again?” That made him look.

“That’s not gonna happen,” he told you like it was the only thing he was genuinely certain of.

“You don’t know that,” for a second he looked ready to argue, so you placed a finger on his lips, “I just don’t want either of us to have any regrets, okay? I’m so so happy with you, Billy. And if you’re happy with me then that’s all we need.”

Billy looked like he had more he wanted to say, you could see it written all over his face but, for whatever reason, he decided to stay silent. Lowering yourself back to the bed beside him, you pressed into his side and rested your head on his chest again, closing your eyes and listening to his heartbeat. He let out a slow sigh and softly began to stroke your hair, his actions saying more than words ever could. And, for a few sweet minutes, you laid together, enjoying just being together. Until his stomach gave an uncomfortable growl.

You burst out laughing, burying your face against his chest at the sound. And, soon enough, Billy was laughing too.

“Listen, it takes a lot of energy to keep you satisfied.” He joked.

“Oh, so this is my fault?” You kept on laughing. “I suppose this means I should feed you if I want to get laid again?”

“A stack of pancakes minimum.”

“A whole stack? Wow, I really must have worn you out. Poor baby.” You lifted your head and smiled up at him.

“Remind me, how many times have I made you come in the last twenty-four hours?”

“Okay, fair point. I guess we should get up then.”

It took a lot of effort to roll yourself away from him and even more to sit up. You let out an uncomfortable groan and then it was Billy’s turn to laugh at you.

“Feeling sore?”

“It’s the price I pay for having an insatiable boyfriend,” you glanced back over your shoulder, smirking at him, and watching as he crawled across the bed to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Insatiable?” He muttered, starting to trail kisses along your shoulder and up your neck.

“He’s completely sex-mad.”

“He sounds like a lot of fun,” his hand skimmed up your body to your breast as his lips continued their assault on your neck.

“He’s alright, I guess,” you smirked and Billy rewarded your little joke by pinching your nipple. “Billy, if you don’t behave yourself, you’re not going to get those pancakes.”

“Pancakes can wait,” his lips moved to your ear, teeth nipping at flesh. You were almost ready to give in to him, to fall back into bed with him, but then your stomach gave an awkward growl of its own, prompting Billy to relent. “Fine, I guess your insatiable boyfriend can wait until after breakfast.”

Turning a little, you looked at Billy, a wide smile pulling at your lips that quickly confused him.

“What?” He asked with an awkward laugh.

“You actually called yourself my boyfriend.” As much as you didn’t need labels, it felt nice that he was willing to say it, even if it was just part of some dumb joke. And he could obviously see just how much it meant to you because, a second later, he was smiling too, reaching to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear before kissing your cheek.

“Yeah, well, I guess I don’t entirely hate how it sounds.”

“You know what that means, don’t you?” You teased and Billy raised an eyebrow. “Billy Russo is now officially off the market.”

“I was off the market the moment we met,” he laughed.

Rolling your eyes, you got to your feet, not believing it for a second. You were about to head to the bathroom when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to look at him.

“Actually, it was before we met.”

“Oh are you gonna tell me it was fate?” You laughed.

“That’s not what I meant,” he kept hold of your wrist as he got to his feet. “The day we met, I saw you from my office window - I wasn’t going out for coffee, I went out to try and meet you.”

“Bullshit,” you laughed, knowing it couldn’t possibly be true. Why would a man like Billy go out of his way to meet someone like you?

“Ask Frank, he was there,” Billy shrugged. “That call I got, just before I caught you looking at me, that was Frank. I got him to call to tell me if you were looking at me, and you were.”

“Then why did you look so annoyed?” You countered.

“Because Frankie kept telling me I should leave you alone,” his eyes met yours and you saw that familiar darkness burning there, “and I haven’t wanted to leave you alone since I first set eyes on you.”

It was a lot to wrap your head around and you weren’t even sure where to start. Your stomach gave another grumble and you decided that this wasn’t the time to try and unpack it all. Taking Billy’s hand in yours, you started to pull him towards the bathroom.

“I need a shower before we make pancakes.”

And, of course, Billy had no objections.

He started the water and it wasn’t long before you were both standing under the hot spray. Billy ran his fingers up and down your arm, over your scars - it was something he’d started doing recently, touching your scars like he was trying to soothe you. Eventually he started to wash you, slowly running his hands over every inch of your body, until he reached your ass and his touch caused you to grimace. It took him less than a second to realise why you were feeling tender and the shame that filled his face caused your heart to give an uncomfortable squeeze.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he started, sounding devastated, “I never meant to -”

“Billy, it’s fine,” you told him, placing a hand on his cheek, trying to calm him down.

“I hurt you.”

“You gave me exactly what I asked for and I loved every second of you doing it.” Your thumb started to stroke his cheek and you forced yourself to hold his gaze despite feeling a little embarrassed by the admission.

“Really? You’re fine that I spanked you and left you sore?”

“Yeah? I mean - it’s complicated,” you told him before falling silent for a few seconds, trying to find a way to explain it. “I trust you, Billy. Last night I felt like I didn’t have to think or worry, like I could just enjoy the way you make me feel, because I know you’d never really hurt me? And, when you - when you did that, it made me feel unbreakable, like I was the strongest person in the world?”

You weren’t sure how much sense any of that made, but Billy seemed pleased with the answer and the anxiety that he’d held only moments before quickly washed away. He took a breath before leaning to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m glad that you trust me that way,” he smiled, his eyes seeming to fill with that familiar wanting again, “guess you’re gonna have to tell me what else you’re into, sweetheart...”

Your cheeks started to warm instantly. It shouldn't have shocked you that that’s where Billy’s mind immediately went after your confession but, even after the couple of months that you’d been with him, you still got whiplash watching him go from zero to flirty and dirty in the space of a couple of seconds.

“I - I don’t know, I’ve never had the chance to find out...” You confessed.

“Good,” he moved suddenly, causing you to take a step back as his hands found the tiles on either side of you, boxing you in, “I want as many first and lasts with you as I can get.”

“Billy -” you managed in barely a whisper, not even sure what you’d say if you could find the words.

“I hate thinking about anyone else touching you, being inside you,” there was an anger in his voice, you knew it wasn’t directed at you but it still made your heart race.

The last thing you wanted was to think about the past - or have Billy thinking about your past. All you wanted was this; the here and now that you were slowly starting to build with Billy. And you hated seeing him like this, struggling with jealousy over things that didn’t matter anymore, so you decided to snap him out of it.

“Well,” you started softly, shyly, your cheeks burning and your breathing turning shallow, “that first morning in my bed, you were on top of me, holding me down with your hand here...” You took hold of his hand and placed it on your collarbone, your teeth scraping over your bottom lip as you held his gaze.

“And?” He quietly prompted, sounding as breathless as you felt.

“I - I thought about how I wanted it here,” you moved his hand again, this time to your throat. Your own hand covered his, pressing against his fingers, making his squeeze lightly, and you felt him twitch against you.

The space between you disappeared in an instant and you found yourself lifted and pressed back against the tiles, your legs wrapping around him while your hands gripped his shoulder. He drove his cock into you with hesitation while the hand on your throat gave a gentle squeeze, nowhere near enough to choke but enough to let you know it was there, and that was really all you wanted from him. Billy seemed to understand without asking what you needed and how far you really wanted him to go.

“Is this what you want, sweetheart?” He groaned, pressing you back against the cold tiles every time his hips drove forwards. You didn’t answer him, all you could do was let out a long moan. “Yeah, you like this. You like me taking control, don’t you?”

Your cheeks continued to burn, but you both knew it was true; you liked this, you liked being able to be with Billy like this, with no inhibitions, no doubts in your head, just trust and love for the man who was making you feel more wanted and cared for than anyone else ever had.

“You were so timid the first time I made you come, but look at you now,” he grinned at you like he was in awe of you, like you were the most perfect creature he’d ever laid eyes on. “I really have ruined this sweet little pussy, haven’t I sweetheart?”

“Yes, Billy. It’s yours now. I’m yours,” you gasped and moaned, now knowing the power those words held over him.

“Yeah, you are. All mine, sweetheart,” he groaned in response, the shift of his hips already turning frantic and desperate, hitting deep inside you with every thrust. “And I’ll give you anything you want for as long as you want me.”

There was something vulnerable in his words, something he’d never dared give away before. And it made you angry - you were angry that anyone had ever made him feel unwanted, unloved or unworthy. Your fingers tugged his hair, needing him to look at you as he continued to lay claim to your body.

“I’ll always want you, Billy,” you panted, fingers pulling tighter in his hair, keeping his eyes on yours so he could see that you meant it. “Always.”

Billy let out an awkward, almost pained gasp, and came suddenly, taking you both by surprise. It was the first time you’d managed to make him come first and Billy seemed more than a little shocked by it. He stilled inside you, his cock continuing to pulse as he emptied himself, while Billy seemed to just freeze.

The uncertainty on his face was impossible to miss - he looked afraid, like he was scared you were going to take it all back, and your heart broke for him again. Your hand found his cheek, while his finally dropped from your throat, and you gave a gentle shake of your head before leaning in to kiss him softly.

“Mine,” you muttered against his lips, claiming him just as he’d claimed you. “You’re mine.”

“Move in with me,” he asked, his voice sounding almost broken, like he didn’t know what to do with any of the emotions that he was feeling.

“What -”

“I want you to move in with me.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? What does oh mean?” He asked with a nervous sort of laugh.

You took a breath and let your head fall back against the tiles before letting out a huff of laughter of your own. “Nothing, it’s just -” your head shook a little at how ridiculous you felt, “- it’s kinda hard for me to have a serious conversation while you’re still -” you glanced down to where your bodies were still joined.

And, that managed to draw the most joyful laugh from Billy. He pressed his lips to yours, kissing you softly before lowering you back to the ground. You stayed silent, taking a few moments to catch your breath, stepping back under the spray of the shower to clean yourself off.

“I’m being serious,” he decided to break the silence, sounding a lot more certain, “I want you to move in. I wanna spend every morning with you like this, and I wanna fall asleep with you in my arms every single night.”

“We do all that most days anyway,” you countered, stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourself in a big, fluffy towel before holding one out to Billy, waiting for him to get out too.

“Yeah, but think about it,” he continued, wrapping the towel around his waist, “if you were here, you’d be closer to work and you’d be able to have a bath whenever you want. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

That brought a smile to your lips, the fact that he remembered some throw-away comment you’d made weeks ago about missing being able to soak in a bath at the end of a long day.

“Okay,” you started to relent and you saw the way his whole face lit up, “I’ll think about it. Our lease runs out at the end of next month anyway, and now Tammy is earning so much working for Anvil, she probably doesn’t even want me as a roommate anymore.”

“See?” He grinned, wrapping his arms around you, kissing the side of your head, “this is the perfect solution. Anyway, you’re practically moved in already.”

“Practically moved in already?” You repeated, quickly finding yourself laughing again. “Billy, you let me have one drawer of stuff here. I’m gonna need a lot more space if you really want me to move in.”

“You can have the spare room. Or I’ll buy a bigger penthouse, just for you and all your stuff.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” you warned despite your laughter.

Once you’d dried yourself off, you headed back to the bedroom to find some clean clothes while Billy finished the rest of his morning routine in the bathroom. While you were waiting for him to emerge, you decided to get a start on breakfast, all the while trying to imagine what it’d be like to be able to sit and eat pancakes with him every morning.

By the time Billy was ready to sit at the table, you had a plate full of pancakes ready to share with him, and a fresh pot of coffee. He let out a slight huff as he sat and quickly started to tuck in.

“What’s up?” You asked, grabbing yourself a pancake from the stack and covering it with an obscene amount of syrup, hoping it would settle your stomach after last night's drinking.

“Frank’s being a real pain in the ass. He wants me to go into the office.”

“He wants you to go in on New Year's Day?”

“Yeah, he wants to show me something, I dunno...”

“Well, don’t feel like you have to say no to him because of me,” you shrug, reaching for your coffee, “I don’t mind waiting here for you to get back if it’s not gonna take long?”

“Really?” You nodded. “Alright, fine, but when I get back we’re spending the rest of the day on the couch, watching TV and eating junk food.”

“Deal.”

While you ate, Billy continued to drop little hints about you moving in, trying to think of all the ways he might tempt you to finally put him out of his misery and say yes. And, by the time he was done, you were all but certain that your answer was going to be yes - you just didn’t want to rush into the decision and tell him straight away.

He kissed you before he left to meet Frank and, after cleaning up the mess you’d made in his kitchen, you found yourself heading back to bed, deciding you needed at least another hours worth of sleep before he got back.

Chapter Eighteen

END NOTES : -alexa, play some ominous music-

Okay, so I know I just pretty much dedicated 12k+ to a 24 hour period but I promise the plot side of things will start moving again next chapter.

As ever, thanks to everyone still reading this and all the new people who seem to have found this story over the last couple of weeks, I'm so overwhelmed by the likes and comments and everything each week, you're all amazing and I really hope you're enjoying this!

TAG LIST

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #cmiyc ff #billy russo imagine

157 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 1 year ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Ten

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R for smut

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Just the usual smutty behaviour, some of it happening in a public place. There's also a very brief mention of a car crash but no details are given. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~4.7k

A/N : Billy is finally getting to take reader for dinner! So, yeah, that's kind of it. This is roughly the halfway point of the story, so thanks to everyone who's been reading and stuck with it this far, and thank you for all the lovely comments and feedback!! Also, OMG I hit 50 followers - I genuinely did not expect that to happen, thank you all so much!! 🥰

Chapter Ten

You weren’t sure what to expect when Billy picked you up for dinner, but it certainly wasn’t a Rolls Royce (a Wraith to be more precise, as Billy enjoyed explaining to you when he caught you staring at the car). At least it wasn’t a bright red Ferrari, you supposed, but you couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable once you were sitting in the passenger seat. It was so expensive and perfectly cared for that you were scared you might do something to ruin it, like you weren’t even worthy of sitting in it.

Billy explained that it had been another impulse purchase, another big ticket item just because he could, because as a boy he’d always wanted a fancy car. Another expensive thing just to try and fill a void. You wondered how empty he must feel to need so many expensive and shiny things, but you didn’t dare ask.

In fact, you remained mostly quiet on the way to the restaurant, not wanting to distract Billy while he was driving.

It wasn’t far, less than twenty minutes. He hadn’t told you where you were going, but once you saw the restaurant, you found yourself nervously playing with your sleeves. You’d never eaten there before, but you knew it by reputation; one of the best Italian restaurants in the state, and you had a good idea just how much it cost to eat there. Suddenly you felt underdressed in your black dress, suddenly you found yourself wishing he had taken you to Pizza Hut.

Parking at the back of the parking lot, Billy killed the engine and, for a few seconds, you were too caught up in your own thoughts to realise that he wasn’t moving.

His hands were still on the steering wheel, gripping it tight. It was something you were getting used to seeing; moments like this where Billy seemed to be fighting against himself, trying to hold himself back. You wondered if he was always like that, or if it was something he did because of you, because he was trying not to scare you. In the time you’d known him, you’d come to realise that Billy was a man of action, that he liked to do things without thinking and he didn't like to hold back when it came to certain urges - he’d called it poor impulse control, Krista had called it hypersexuality. You didn’t know what it was, but you liked to think he felt the same desperate neediness you felt whenever you were together.

“Billy,” you muttered softly, drawing his attention to you.

Your breath caught as he looked at you, his dark eyes flickering with a barely contained desire that had you wanting to crawl onto his lap. Clenching your thighs together, you tried not to think about all the things he could do to you, all the things you wanted him to do.

“We should go eat,” he finally managed, forcing an uneasy smile to his lips before getting out of the car. Before you could fully climb out of the Wraith, Billy was at your side, his hand extended to you. Of course, you took it and let him lead you into the restaurant, all the while smoothing down your dress, wanting to make sure you looked presentable enough to be seen with him. If Billy noticed, he managed to keep it to himself, he just gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he opened the door for you.

You stayed quiet as you were led to a table - that Billy had somehow managed to reserve yesterday, despite how exclusive the restaurant was. His hand left yours so he could pull out your chair for you and, still, you didn’t speak. You didn’t know what to say about any of it.

When the menu was placed in front of you, you really started to feel uncomfortable; there were no prices listed but, judging from the sort of things on offer, none of it was within your price range.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, though it was clear from the look on his face that he had some idea what was going through your mind.

“Nothing, it’s just -” you gave an awkward sigh, “- this place is really fancy...”

“Order whatever you want, I’m paying.”

“Billy -”

“I know, I know, you don’t want my money, and I promise I’m not trying to buy you. I just really like eating here and I think, if you give it a chance, you’ll like it too.” His shoulder ticked. “Besides I can either spend my money having a good time with you, or I can waste it on something dumb.”

You managed a laugh at that and, despite how awkward it made you feel, Billy probably had a point; he had enough money that he probably wouldn’t ever miss what he spent tonight, and you could at least try to make sure that he wouldn’t be left feeling empty at the end of it. You relented with a sigh and a nod, dropping your eyes back to the menu, though you still tried to think about what would be cheapest.

In the end you settled on pasta, while Billy ordered steak. Without much in the way of conversation, he also took it upon himself to order a antipasto platter for the two of you to share - which, you might have briefly felt uncomfortable about, but seeing the way he lit up when the food started arrive seemed to reinforce his point that he liked eating there, and you didn’t want to do anything that might ruin that for him.

And, you had to admit, the food was very nice. So much so that you were content to eat in relative silence for a little while. From time to time, Billy would ask you what you thought of the food and if you the wine that he’d ordered was alright - and it was, you could already understand why the restaurant was so raved about - but there was something almost shy about the way he was being. And shy wasn’t a word you thought you’d ever use to describe Billy.

It wasn’t until your main course arrived that you really started to notice, wondering if Billy just preferred quiet when he was eating, or if it was you. But, regardless of his silence, every time you happened to look up from your food, you’d find Billy staring at you. The first couple of times, he’d smile before returning his attention to his steak

But, finally, you had to ask; “what?”

“What?” He responded, looking up from his plate.

“You keep looking at me like - like that.”

“Like what?” Still confused, though he managed to give a little huff of laughter.

“Like you’re barely holding yourself back.”

“From what?” He asked, shifting in his seat, sitting a little straighter and leaning back in his chair, like he thought the extra inch of space it created between you could save him. You could tell just by looking at him that there was something he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut. Was what he was thinking really that bad or did he just think you didn’t want to hear it? (Did he think you couldn’t handle it?)

You decided to lean forward, destroying the distance he’d tried to create. If you were going to do this, you needed Billy to understand that he needed to talk, otherwise you’d overthink every little thing until you tore it all apart.

“Like there’s something you want but you’re fighting against it?” You tried to explain. “I saw it in the car earlier, and the night of the gala; you get this look like you need to do something but you’re scared to do it.” You watched his face, taking in every little flicker of discomfort as his eyes searched your face, trying to figure out just how much you could handle.

“I told you, I have poor impulse control,” his shoulder ticked upwards, “I’m trying to work on it, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Who told you that - that you have poor impulse control?” You asked, but Billy didn’t need to answer, you already had a pretty good idea. The flash of unease on his face said it all; Krista. Your expression instantly softened, and your heart ached for him. “Billy, I’m not worried and I don’t need you to protect me from you. You don’t need to hold back when you’re with me. If you’re scared something might be too much you can just ask.”

“Sweetheart,” he started softly, a warm smile on his lips, “if I didn’t hold back, we’d never leave my bed.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad to me,” you joked and Billy’s gaze seemed to darken with want again.

As much as you wanted to get to the bottom of it, you knew that it wasn’t something you could figure out in one night. Clearly there were bigger issues at play and, in a restaurant, on your first date probably wasn’t the best place to have this sort of conversation.

Your attention returned to your food for a minute or so before you looked up again, catching him staring again.

“Did you sort the thing at Anvil yesterday?” You decided to ask. “The security problem?”

“Not yet,” he answered and fell silent again, attention returning to his dinner. But, after a few seconds, he seemed to realise that you genuinely wanted to talk to him and that his being silent wasn’t conducive to a good dinner date. “I think Frank’s just blowing things out of proportion, it’s probably nothing to worry about,” he shrugged, “we get people poking around a lot, it’s just the nature of the business.”

“Oh, well that’s good, I guess?” You smiled, wanting to show that you appreciated the effort he was making.

“How was your day?”

“It was okay. Work was kinda crazy, but things always start to get insane this time of year,” you shrugged, chewing your lip and thinking for a moment before adding; “but I, uh, got some good news?”

“What kind of good news?” He set his cutlery down and reached for his wine glass, attention completely on you.

“Well, I know this guy who runs a little gallery in Queens, he told me he’s got an opening in the new year and asked if I wanted to put on a show.” It made you nervous seeing the way that Billy practically lit up at the news. “I mean, I don’t know if I’ve got anything worth showing at the moment, but it was nice he asked...”

“You should do it, I’d love to come see some of your work.”

“I’ll be sure to put you on the guestlist,” you laughed despite the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach; the new year was months away and you weren't sure Billy would even still be in your life then. (But seeing him smile at you made you want to hope that he would be.)

“Do you make any money from your shows?”

“Some, but not a lot; mostly just from the door but sometimes people buy things.”

“How much is some? Ballpark figure?”

“Ballpark figure?” You laughed. “You’re such a businessman.”

Bill let out a laugh of his own, shaking his head.

“Sorry, force of habit. It’s hard to switch it off sometimes.”

“Well, I guess some people probably find it incredibly sexy.” You smiled, watching the smirk grow on his lips.

“Oh, some people, eh?”

“Yeah, y’know, the kind of people who get all hot and bothered over men in expensive suits who drive fancy cars and know how to get what they want?” You leaned forward a little more, trying you best to sound seductive, despite the ridiculous grin on your lips.

“Yeah? What about you? Does it get you all hot and bothered?” He smirked, falling right into your trap.

“Nah, I like men who wear jeans and drive Toyotas,” you started laughing, and the look on his face was priceless. As much as he might have wanted to feign upset at the comment, Billy couldn’t stop himself from letting out a ridiculous laugh, and it was the most joyful sound you’d managed to pull from him.

“You’re such a tease,” he took a drink, though his eyes stayed fixed on you.

“Don’t worry, Billy,” you reached for your own glass and took a long, slow drink, “I’m prepared to make an exception for you. What you lack in fashion sense, you make up for in other areas.”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” he prompted, a hint of impatience in his tone, like he needed to hear you say it.

“Well, you have a very talented tongue,” your cheeks started to warm but the ridiculous smile stayed plastered to your lips, “and you have quite a way with words. And you’re very hands on...”

“And you like that, do you?”

You decided not to answer him, instead you made a point of returning your attention to your food before it got cold. Billy’s eyes lingered on you for a few moments more before he did the same. The game wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot, but you needed some time to consider your next move.

After finishing your main course, you excused yourself, heading for the bathroom, as a terrible idea formed in your mind. You could practically feel Billy’s eyes on you as you walked away, and you could almost picture the look on his face as he did, that hungry glint in his eyes, the way his lips curled upwards ever so slightly whenever he stared at you. Especially tonight. Your silly games had gotten to him, but they’d gotten to you too, and it left you craving what would come next.

Standing in the bathroom stall, you took a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart but there was nothing for it. Now that you were doing this with Billy, now that you were finally willing to let him in, you were terrified in the most inexplicable way - it was scary how much you wanted him after so little time. But you did want him, and you wanted him to want you just as much.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you slipped out of your panties, trying not to think about the telling wet spot before balling them up in your hand.

When you left the bathroom, your cheeks were burning; your free hand nervously smoothing down your dress, terrified that everyone would suddenly be able to tell that you weren’t wearing panties. Billy gave you a confused look as you approached the table, and it was almost enough to make you completely lose your nerve. You awkwardly offered your hand to him and quickly handed him the balled up red lace before retreating to your seat.

“What’s this for?” He asked, fighting back a grin, momentarily looking at the panties before shoving them into his pocket.

“They were getting wet,” you managed to answer, nervously biting your lips before adding; “they’re my favourite pair, I don’t want them to get ruined.”

“They’re my favourite pair now, sweetheart.” He smirked at you, a devious glint in his eyes. “If I’d known this was what you were doing, I would have followed you to the bathroom. I hate to think of your needy little pussy all wet and unfulfilled.”

“Billy -” cheeks burning, glancing around, hoping that no one could hear him.

He leaned closer, smiling softly as if the pair of you were exchanging romantic sweet nothings. You felt his ankle nudge yours beneath the table and your breath caught.

“What’s wrong? Am I making your tight little hole drip? Are you making a mess thinking about how my cock would feel inside you if I bent you over this table in front of all these people?” And, just like that, he’d turned the tables on you. You’d wanted to drive him crazy, but you’d underestimated him. He reached for you, his hand covering yours.

“Is that what you’re thinking about?” You dared to ask in little more than a whisper, leaning closer.

“I’m thinking about crawling beneath the table and eating your sweet little pussy as my next course.”

You bit your lip again, thighs rubbing together beneath the table.

“I can’t wait to get you home.” He smirked, obviously noticing your discomfort and revelling in it.

“Does that mean we’re skipping dessert?” you asked, suddenly feeling breathless.

“No, I promised you dinner; it wouldn’t count if we skipped a course.” He kept smiling, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “Your needy little pussy will just have to wait.” His smile got wider as you almost pouted. “Though, it's driving me crazy knowing how wet you’re gonna be when I get you out of here.

“Now who’s being a tease?” You squeezed his hand, giving away just how much he was getting to you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, did I ruin your plans?” He asked with an unapologetic smirk. “Was I supposed to get flustered or did you want me to drag you out of here and fuck you in the car?”

You dropped your gaze, cheeks burning, not really having an answer for him; you’d just wanted to make him feel as out of control as you did.

“I appreciate the effort though,” Billy continued, “I like knowing the effect that I have on you.”

Your lips parted, about to say - you weren’t even sure what, when you were interrupted by the waiter bringing your dessert.

You ate dessert slowly, your eyes fixed on Billy, knowing that once you were done eating the rest of the night would begin. You both remained calm and composed, as you finished your meals, and as Billy paid the check. You pulled on your coat and slowly let him lead you from the restaurant, but things quickly changed the moment you reached the parking lot.

It was dark save for the flickering of a single street light, only two other cars remained but Billy had parked at the back of the lot, out of the way.

By the time you reached the Wraith, his hands were on your hips, turning you to face him as he pressed you back against his car. He kissed you, nipping at your lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your fingers gripped his tie, holding him close, surrendering yourself to him.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he muttered against your lips, “you got me so fucking hard with that little stunt with your panties.”

“Good,” you answered, your hand slipping down his body to palm his erection through his pants.

“You keep that hand there and I’m not gonna be responsible for my actions, sweetheart.” Billy groaned.

“You should be more concerned with what I’m gonna do to you,” you smiled, your hand releasing his tie and gently pushing him backwards so you could drop to your knees in front of him. Your hands started to pull at the fastenings of his pants, pulling his hard cock through the zipper. Billy gave a groan as your fingers ran along his shaft, his own hand finding the roof of the Wraith for support.

He was barely breathing when you looked up at him.

You took a deep breath before leaning forward, your hand still gripping his cock while your tongue slipped between your lips.

You felt him twitch as your tongue touched hot skin, heard him groan as you ran your tongue from root to tip, lapping the salty sweetness that had already leaked from him as your tongue swirled over his tip. Lips trailed hot kisses up and down his shaft, smiling as he swore under his breath, and loving the marks your lipstick left on his skin.

You wet your lips with your tongue before finally taking him into your mouth, pulling an eager moan from him. He reached for you with his free hand, fingers fisted in your hair, gently guiding you up and down the length of him, while your fist pumped the base of him.

Billy was completely yours in that moment. With just your lips, you’d rendered him speechless, helpless, and hopeless. The feeling of power was intoxicating; the way he moaned and shuddered and swore made you want more. It made you want everything. Your cheeks hollowed against him, tongue working along every inch of him, your moans vibrating around him.

“That’s it. Look at me, sweetheart,” he grunted as your eyes found his, staring up at him through your lashes, and the look on his face had moaning even harder around him, “I wanna watch you suck my cock.”

His grip tightened, his chest heaving with every panted breath. He was getting closer and you didn’t want to stop. You took more of him, managing to sink lower and lower with the encouragement of his hand, earning more desperate moans from him. Eyes watered when he hit the back of your throat, but you didn’t stop, you barely even slowed. Tilting your head a little, he slipped into your throat and you felt his grip tighten, but just a fraction. Billy was barely managing to hold himself back, you could see it in his eyes, in the way he grit his teeth. You almost wanted to push him, make him lose control completely, but you didn’t want him to take over. You were in control of the moment and that was how you wanted it to stay.

You heard your name and the start of a gasped warning before his hips bucked and his cock started pulsing, filling your mouth. Despite trying to warn you, his grip on your hair didn’t loosen. You kept pumping his length with your fist, swallowing down everything he gave you, milking every last drop from him until it was too much for him to bear and he had to gently push you away. You dropped back against the Wraith, knees protesting and aching, licking his cum from your lips, feeling very proud of yourself.

“Fuck,” he muttered, breathless as he forced his cock back into his pants and offered you his hand.

Your knees ached from the gravel as you stood back up, but once you were up, Billy’s arm was around you, supporting you, holding you against him.

“Did you enjoy that?” You asked quietly, almost shyly, as if there was any chance someone else might overhear.

“Sweetheart, I think I just about lost my goddamn mind,” he smiled, lightly pressing his lips to yours before reaching around you to open the car door for you. “I’m gonna show you just how much when I get you home.”

Your shaky legs just about managed to get you into the car, and Billy shut the door behind you. While he made his way around to the driver's side, you checked yourself in the mirror, and found your lipstick smeared around your mouth. As Billy climbed into the Wraith he shot you a very smug look before handing you his handkerchief. He started the car while you did your best to fix your makeup.

There was a relative silence for a while, and you were content to just look out the window at the New York City lights. You didn’t talk, again, not wanting to distract Billy. But it felt like there was something in the air between you, a tension, a longing for things to come.

He glanced your way a couple of times before his hand found your thigh, causing you to tense suddenly. The hand was quickly pulled back and the car was very quickly filled with a different kind of tension.

“What’s wrong?” He dared to ask, his attention fixed on you more than the road, and that just made things worse.

“Watch the road, please...” you awkwardly pleaded and, to his credit, Billy did as you asked.

An awkward silence filled the air for the next few minutes; he didn’t dare look at you so he didn’t see the way you were awkwardly pulling at the sleeves of your jacket, your eyes fixed on the road just beyond the windscreen. He didn’t look again until he hit a red light and the car had come to a complete stop.

“What did I do?” He asked.

You didn’t want to tell him, you weren’t ready to share that part of your life with him, but you’d agreed, hadn’t you? You’d told him that you’d stop pushing, that you’d tell him if he fucked up. And he had fucked up, just not in a way he could have anticipated.

“Nothing,” you answered quietly, “It’s not you. I - I was in an accident and, now, being in cars makes me nervous sometimes.”

“Is that how -” he didn’t finish the question, he didn’t have to. He put it together, at least part of it. Your scars had come from a car crash. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t know. I should’ve warned you.”

Whether out of respect to your anxiety at being in the car or just because he didn’t have anything else to say, Billy stayed mostly quiet the rest of the way back to his apartment, save for asking you if you were alright a couple of times and if you were warm enough. It was more than enough time to get over the awkwardness of Billy knowing a little bit more about you and, by the time the car was parked, you were ready to put it all behind you and continue the rest of the night with him.

He took your hand in his as he led you from the car to the elevator, your bag slung over his shoulder and holding you extra tight - you weren’t sure if it was meant as a reassurance or a sign that his patience was wearing thin. Either way, you squeezed his hand in return. His other hand, you soon noticed, was in his pocket along with your balled up panties.

You found that familiar look on his face once you were in the elevator. He didn’t look at you, he didn’t dare, you just kept squeezing his hand, silently telling him that you were there, that everything was alright. The elevator dinged when it reached the penthouse and everything quickly became a blur.

By the time the elevator door had closed behind you, Billy had you against the wall, your legs around his hips and the bag with your things abandoned somewhere on the floor. His hands awkwardly tugged open his pants, dropping them to the floor before, thrusting his cock into your wetness. You cried out, straining around him, wet but not entirely ready, your fingers curling in his hair. He didn’t give you time to adjust or get used to him before he started to fuck you, roughly laying claim to you.

“This is what you get for trying to play games with me, sweetheart,” he all but growled against your lips. All you could think was that if this was the sort of punishment you’d get for playing games and trying to rile him up, then you’d have to do it more often.

Your head dropped back against the wall, moaning and completely at his mercy, losing yourself with every snap of his hips.

There was no holding back the inevitable and, soon enough, you were moaning his name as you came undone, and Billy soon followed suit. He kept you against the wall, his weight holding you in place as he came inside you, still moving until he’d completely emptied himself, leaving you feeling oddly triumphant.

“See?” You panted, smiling widely. “I like your poor impulse control.”

His hand moved, gripping your jaw loosely with his fingers, looking at you like he was trying to make sense of something incomprehensible. You held his gaze, wanting him to see that you wouldn’t waiver, that you wouldn’t shy away from this side of him. Then he kissed you, softly, reassuringly, telling you a thousand things he didn’t have the words to say aloud to you.

He lingered against your lips as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him not because he was still inside you, but simply because you wanted to hold him. (How many people had just held him, you wondered.) Your fingers ran through his hair and you smiled against his lips. When he pulled back again, he still had that look, like he just didn’t understand. But you didn’t ask; it wasn’t your place to tell him how to feel, you just hoped he’d figure it out eventually.

Without a word, he lowered you and, once your feet were back on the floor, he was pulling you towards the bedroom so he could spend the rest of the night keeping you from sleep.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

END NOTES : So, yeah this is about the halfway point with what I have planned (I've got about 20 chapters planned, unless any get too long and need breaking up) but now that reader and Billy are in a nice place with their relationship, it's time to turn up the angst. There might be some more triggering stuff coming up in the next part, so please check the warnings! Next part should be up same time next week.

As ever, thanks so much for reading!! I know I say this every time but I'm honestly just overwhelmed with the likes/comments/reblogs/follows, it really does mean so much to me! (I have no idea how many of you are real and how many are bots, but you're all great - if you're not a bot drop an emoji in the comments idk)

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (if it's not working for some reason... I honestly have no idea how to fix that but I hope it is working??)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @uncontainedsmiles @damagelove @danzer8705 @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote

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

192 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 1 year ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Nine

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R for smut

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This chapter contains mentions of scars/burn scars/branding, it's not very detailed but please avoid if you find these things upsetting. There's also the usual smutty behaviour. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~4.5k

A/N : This is set the morning after the last chapter. I've given up on trying to keep each part under 4k and am now just embracing it and letting it get unhinged. Thanks to everyone still reading this, I hope you're enjoying the direction the story is taking!.

Chapter Nine

The room was spinning. You blinked, eyes bleary and refusing to focus, trying to remember why you felt like you’d been hit by a truck - ah, that’s right, all the tequila. Closing your eyes, you wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep until your hangover was gone. And you would have, if it wasn’t for the realisation that you weren’t alone. There was a warm hand possessively pressed against your bare stomach, beneath your satin camisole. Billy.

But the fact that he was there, in your bed, his arms around you, didn’t upset you nearly as much as what you were wearing.

The satin pyjama set left little to the imagination, showing off the scars of your arms that you always went to such great lengths to cover, exposing you in a way that made you feel sick to your stomach, panic quickly taking hold. For a moment you were frozen, staring at the marks left by broken glass and pulling yourself through fire and, then, at the brand that had been etched into your skin; a letter S surrounded by a heart. What had Billy thought when he finally saw you?

You pulled away from Billy’s arms, stumbling as your feet found the floor and your knee connected with an open drawer. If the sudden movement hadn’t woken him, the pained yelp you let out certainly did.

“Hey, what’s -” you heard him start to grumble, but he stopped the moment you turned and he saw the panicked look on your face.

You froze and, for a second, so did he. It would have been the perfect opportunity for you to move, to grab something to cover yourself with, but you couldn’t think, could barely even breathe once the panic really started to take hold

“Are you alright?” He asked, cautiously sitting up and getting out of bed, slowly moving towards you until you started to shrink back. Billy stopped the moment he saw you recoiling, holding up his hand in a silent surrender. He was wearing his boxers and nothing else, and - and you couldn’t remember anything after leaving the club last night.

Your throat felt dry and, for a moment, you couldn’t find the words that you knew you needed to say to him. You needed him to leave, needed him to know that whatever had happened between you last night had been a mistake. You needed to do something, anything, to get him to go.

“You should -” your voice came out as little more than a frightened whisper, Billy had to lean closer just to hear you. “You need to go, I need you to go.” A tear escaped, spilling down your cheek. You hadn’t wanted things to end like this, you’d wanted to be able to end it on your own terms with happy memories of the night you’d had together, but now Billy had seen you. A choked sob clawed its way out of you, shaking your entire body.

“It’s okay,” he tried again, slowly reaching for you. Even though some part of you longed for him to hold you, to help make all the terrible feelings go away, you stepped back again. Confusion and concern warred for place on his face. “Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Last night, it wasn’t -” you wanted so badly to remember what had been said, what had been done, but it was all a haze. But, there Billy was, in his boxers while you felt barely dressed in the satin pyjama set. “We shouldn’t’ve -”

“Nothing happened last night,” he interrupted softly. You shot him a confused look that he countered with a gentle smile. “You asked me to stay and - and I didn’t want to leave you. You were drunk and I wanted to make sure you’d be alright. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, it was just a long night.”

“Did you undress me?” You didn’t want to accuse him of being a creep, but you couldn’t understand how you’d ended up in your pyjamas, in those pyjamas.

“No, you did that yourself, you even made me turn around. All I did was hand you your PJs” he explained, still keeping his distance, still speaking so softly. “You wanted to walk home in the rain last night and we both got soaked, remember?”

You shook your head.

“Billy, please,” you tried again, “can you just -”

“I’m not leaving when you’re this upset,” adamant but still so gentle, and it was almost enough to make your heart ache. After everything you'd said and done, Billy was still fighting for you. “Is it me? Is it something I did?”

You sniffled as tears continued to roll down your cheeks. You couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him no, save for the slightest shake of your head. He hadn’t done anything, this was all you, your past and all the broken pieces you’d never wanted Billy to see. You pulled your arms around yourself, trying to hold yourself together while everything felt like it was falling apart. You didn’t even realise you were shaking until Billy moved, grabbing the comforter from your bed and wrapping it around you before you could protest.

“You’re trembling,” he muttered softly.

You weren’t sure if he pulled you towards him or you spilled forwards into his arms, but the next thing you knew, he was holding you tight while you sobbed against his shoulder. The minutes ticked by and he didn’t move, didn’t try to speak or do anything. He let you get it all out, all the while holding onto you, letting you know he was going nowhere.

Eventually, you were all cried out.

“I didn’t want you to see,” you finally muttered, face hidden against his neck.

“See what?” He asked carefully, cautiously understanding just how fragile the situation was.

“The scars...”

“Oh,” he breathed out, like he hadn’t even noticed the scars before you mentioned them but, then; “is that why you keep pushing me away?”

It wasn’t that simple, but you found yourself nodding regardless. It wasn’t just the scars, it was how you got them, it was the life that you’d left behind when you came to New York; it was who you were, it was all the mistakes of your past. It was all the things you’d never be able to tell him.

Your heart stopped when he pulled away from you and took a step back. You couldn’t even bring yourself to lift your head, already so convinced that he was about to walk away from you, that you’d hear the sound of the door closing behind him at any moment. Pulling the comforter tighter around you, you choked back another sob; you needed him to leave, but you didn’t want him to go.

Suddenly, you felt his hands on your cheeks, urging you to lift your head and look at him. His deep, dark eyes found yours with a softness you knew you didn’t deserve, a softness you hadn’t realised that he possessed. His thumbs wiped away your tears and, for a second, he didn’t seem to know what he wanted to say to you.

“I’m not gonna walk away from you just ‘cause you have scars, sweetheart,'' a tender smile on his lips. “Everyone’s got scars. They don’t change how I feel about you.”

“But -” you weren’t even sure what you wanted to say, how you wanted to protest.

“No buts,” he stopped you, “I don’t know what you thought I was gonna think when I saw them, but the scars don’t bother me and I don’t think any less of you ‘cause of them. To go through all that and come out of the other side? That just tells me you’re a survivor like me, and that’s all I need to know. Your past is your own and, if you never want to tell me about it then…” he trailed into a shrug.

Without thinking, you pressed forwards into him, his arms pulling you back into a momentary embrace before he lifted you off your feet and returned you to bed. You relaxed into his arms, finally tired of fighting against what you wanted. Billy gathered you in his arms and held you tight, making you feel safer than you had in a long time. You tried to fight against sleep but, eventually, it managed to find you. And, as you slept, Billy held you.

Three hours passed before you stirred in his arms, your head resting on his chest above his heart while his hand held your arm, his thumb lightly running over the letter etched into your skin at the crook of your arm. His hand moved the moment he realised you were awake, cupping your cheek tenderly.

“Hey,” he smiled.

“Hey,” you offered shyly, feeling like this was the first time that Billy was seeing the real you. “You stayed.”

“Of course I did, there’s nowhere I’d rather be. How’s the hangover?”

“Not great.”

Billy responded by pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Need me to get you a glass of water?”

“No,” you answered a little too suddenly, “just - stay with me.” Your arms pulled tight around him, wanting to make sure he couldn’t leave you.

“Okay, if that’s what you want,” holding you tighter, letting you know he wasn’t going anywhere.

Silence fell and you closed your eyes again, concentrating on the steady drumming of his heart beat. For a few minutes, Billy seemed to assume you’d fallen asleep again, staying quiet and letting you rest.

“I’m sorry,” you finally muttered, keeping your eyes shut.

“What for?”

“For being a bitch last night. I shouldn’t’ve mentioned your ex,” you felt him tense just at the mention of her, “I don’t think you’d hurt me. I just - I wanted you to leave me alone.”

“And now?” The hesitation was clear in his voice, he still felt tense, worried that things were about to fall apart again.

“I don’t want you to go,” you admitted, finally telling him the truth, but it wasn’t that simple, “but there are things about me that I can’t -”

“Sweetheart,” he interrupted, “I already told you, I don’t need to know anything about your past that you don’t want to share. If you want to tell me, you can, but I’m not gonna push you.”

“How can you say that? I could’ve done something terrible, something unforgivable, something that could ruin your life.”

“‘cause I’ve got plenty of shit in my past that I’m not proud of, but I’m trying to do better and I think you are too,” he explained. “Nothing you could say is gonna change my mind. So, whatever it is you’re hiding, you don’t have to push me away over it.”

It should have set your mind at ease knowing that he wasn’t going to push, that he was only interested in the you that existed in the here and now. But, really, what did that mean for the two of you? What if he changed his mind or, worse, what if you opened yourself up to him and he hurt you? The constant push and pull of the last couple of months had left you exhausted and, now that there was potentially an end to it, you weren’t sure what you wanted. The safest option would be to carry on as you had been, keeping to yourself, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted Billy.

The silence dragged on between you, giving you more and more time to think and overthink every little thing, not knowing what to say to him. And,eventually, you came to realise that the time for words was over.

Lifting your head, you found Billy’s lips, kissing him softly, telling him everything you couldn’t find the words to say; you wanted him, you weren’t going to push him away anymore.

Billy kissed back, and it wasn’t long before things started to escalate. His tongue slipped between your lips, his arms pulled you closer. But it wasn’t enough, you wanted more, you wanted anything that might silence all the doubts in your head once and for all. You straddled him, your hands roaming his bare chest, fingers running over all of his scars and imperfections.

Your hips started to move, needing more of a distraction, needing to feel not think. Billy groaned beneath you and it wasn’t long before you felt him grow hard, stoking that familiar heat between your thighs, arousal quickly soaking through your satin shorts. It made you want more, made you want everything. Your movements quickly became frenzied, chasing something to silence all the complicated thoughts and emotions that were overwhelming you.

“Hey - hey, slow down,” Billy pulled his lips from yours, hands finding your hips, trying to slow things down. And, when that didn’t work, when you refused to slow down, he rolled you, putting himself on top. “It’s alright,” he told you softly, recognising your internal panic “let me help.”

Your breath caught as he placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose and started to slowly pull up your camisole. Lifting yourself, you helped him remove it, though you could feel your cheeks burning with shame as more scars were revealed to him. But Billy didn’t even seem to see them, he just continued to smile softly at you before kissing you again, waiting until you started to relax beneath him. Then, his lips started to trail downwards, going slowly, like he was trying to commit every piece of you to memory.

Lips and hands explored your breasts, enjoying teasing your nipples into hardened peaks, before slipping lower. Your heart almost stopped when he reached one of the more prominent scars that ran across your stomach, but Billy didn’t flinch, he looked up and caught your gaze as he kissed along the length of the scar before continuing downwards, until he reached the waistband of your shorts. Lifting your hips, you helped him remove them, leaving you completely exposed beneath him as he sank lower on the bed.

He lifted your leg over his shoulder, lips finding your thigh, trailing kisses upwards while his fingers ran slowly down your tightening belly. His stubble tickled and scratched along the inside of your thigh, his hot breath creating dampness against your skin. Your fingers slipped into his dark locks as your hips lifted, urging him on. You were panting for breath before his lips were anywhere near you, and when he reached the wetness between your thighs, you stopped breathing entirely. Billy paused, breathing you in, committing everything about the moment to memory. And even though you couldn’t see his lips, you knew he was smiling.

“Fuck,” he muttered, “you’re already dripping for me.”

Your cheeks burned as he looked up at you, and just seeing him there between your legs drew a whimper from you, your fingers pulling at his hair trying to coax him into action. Billy toyed with you, lightly kissing and ghosting his lips against you before, finally, parting your folds with his fingers and letting you feel his warm tongue. He dragged it against you, flat and hot against your arousal, lapping the wetness around your slit before focusing his attention on your throbbing clit.

It wasn’t long before you were writhing beneath him, one heel pressing into his back while the other dug into the mattress, pressing your hips desperately against his greedy tongue. You moaned wordless pleas as your fingers tightened in his hair, begging and demanding with every desperate noise that slipped from your lips.

A heat rose inside you, burning you from the inside out, and when you thought you couldn’t take it any more, you felt a new sort of pleasure. His index finger breached your slit with ease, and you moaned as he set to work, stroking and curling in time with the rhythm of his tongue against your clit. Your thighs trembled around his head and Billy quickly doubled down.

Another finger penetrated your wet walls, pulling a desperate cry from your lips, your back shamelessly arching, pressing yourself against his eager lips and fingers. And, when your movements turned too eager, too desperate, he tried to hold you in place with a strong hand on your stomach.

You were getting close when you felt his lips pull around your swollen clit, sucking it, distracting your while he managed to slide a third finger into you, stretching you, trying to prepare you for what came next.

“Fuck, Billy!” You cried out, overwhelmed by everything he was doing. And, when his fingers bent inside you, hitting that special spot, you fell apart. Your head pressed back against the pillow, crying his name, over and over, as you came on his fingers.

He didn’t start to slow until he was sure you were done, letting his fingers slip from your trembling body, but his lips remained, tongue trailing slow circles around your over-stimulated clit. Then, finally, he kissed your pussy, as deeply as he would your mouth, allowing himself to indulge in one last taste before pulling away. He lingered for a moment, taking the opportunity to slip out of his boxers before slowly kissing his way back up your body. Your fingers remained in his hair, lacking the brainpower to even consider letting him go.

Billy came to a stop, leaning over you supported by his elbows, looking down at you. His lips and chin were coated in your arousal, and you could taste it on his tongue when he finally kissed you again. It was intoxicating. And, soon enough, you wanted more.

Now that this was really happening, you wanted everything.

For the longest time, he seemed content where he was, his body hovering above yours as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your hips lifted, needily trying to angle yourself so the tip of his hard cock trailed through your slickness. Billy groaned into your mouth, lowering his hips a fraction, then a little more as your hips started to move, as if he didn’t even realise he was doing it. You kept moving, rocking your hips, letting him slip further between your soaked folds, letting him feel the throb of your clit against his shaft. Slowly, your hands slipped down his back, fingernails tracing the path of his spine before you hands came to rest on his ass, pulling him closer, leaving no doubt what you wanted.

Whatever shred of restraint he’d been clinging to quickly vanished and his cock slowly started to fill you. Moaning, you pulled him closer, a leg hitching on his hip, opening yourself up for him, feeling the delicious stretch as he filled you.

It took a second for you to remember that he wasn’t wearing a condom, but once he was inside you and you could really feel him, you knew you couldn’t stop. You knew you’d never want him any other way. If Billy realised he wasn’t wearing a condom, he didn’t let it show, but you could tell from his face he loved these new sensations just as much as you. Your pussy fluttered and clenched around him as he finally bottomed out.

“Don’t hold back,” you begged, before common sense got the better of either of you.

Billy pulled back before pitching his cock back into you, letting you feel every hard inch. Your body gripped him tight, soaking him as he started to fuck you, your arousal letting him move with ease. He didn’t hold back, didn’t take things slow; he gave you exactly what you’d asked for.

You moaned and moved beneath him, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts, overwhelmed by how much of him you could feel now he wasn’t sheathed in rubber. And Billy seemed just as lost in you. His eyes fixed on you, watching the way your mouth went slack and your eyes rolled back as he fucked you. He groaned your name over and over, like he was laying claim to you, and a vague memory of last night filled your mind; once you’re mine, I’m gonna ruin you.

His lips pressed against the column of your throat, kissing and nipping, while his hand rested on your breast, fingers plucking at a hardened nipple. He was everywhere, but it still didn’t feel like it was enough. Your nails dug into his back as he fucked you harder.

“Oh, fuck, Billy,” you moaned, pulling him closer, clawing at his back, demanding more.

“You like that?” He asked, smirking down at you. “You want it rough, sweetheart? Need me to fuck you harder?”

“Please -”

Before your brain had a chance to catch up, Billy had pulled your legs over his shoulders, changing the angle and opening you up to him, so every hard inch of him could fill you over and over. His fingers continued to play with your nipple, while his other hand rested somewhere between your shoulder and your throat, pinning you beneath him with the slightest pressure. Your head lolled back on the pillow, offering your throat to him without thought, but his hand didn’t move. (Maybe next time, you hoped.)

“Billy I - I’m so close -” you begged.

“Come for me, sweetheart. Come all over my cock.”

“Not without you, I want -” you were cut off by another moan tearing its way from your lips. “Billy, please…”

He continued to fuck you until your walls started to flutter around his cock and your body started to tremble, thrusting into your a couple more times before he fell apart with you.

“Oh, fuck, Billy. Yes...” You shuddered and cried out as he came, a sudden heat filling you, burning you from the inside out, letting Billy lay claim to you completely. His hips kept moving, cock twitching, gripped tight by your body as he emptied himself inside you.

Everything fell silent and still when he was done, but he didn’t pull away save for letting you lower your legs back onto the bed, leaving you with his cock buried inside you while you caught your breath. Your arms wrapped around him, holding tight, not wanting the moment to end. You liked the weight of his body on top of you more than you wanted to think about, and there was something so intimate about the way his face was pressed against your neck as he slowly came down from his high.

“I never want to wear a condom with you again,” he finally muttered. You weren’t sure if it was a joke or a demand, but it didn’t matter, not when you’d had the same thought. You didn’t even have to answer, your body did it for you, squeezing tight around his cock. Billy finally lifted himself so he could look at you, a tired smile on his lips. “You alright?

“Yeah, I just...” you weren’t sure where to start or if it was the right time to start any serious conversation with him, given the fact that he was still inside you and your thighs were still trembling. “If we’re going to do this, I need to know that there’s no one else, that you’re not sleeping around. I know you said you don’t do love or relationships or whatever, but I can’t do this if you’re fucking other women.”

Your stomach dropped when he didn’t answer straight away. He took a moment to think about it, to think about whether you were worth giving up casual sex whenever he wanted it - and that he had to think about it at all made you feel like you weren’t worth it to him after all. While he was thinking, he took the opportunity to finally move, slipping out of you and rolling onto his side beside you.

You’d hoped that space between you might help you think clearly, but once he moved, you found that all you could really think about was the slickness he’d left between your thighs.

“I can do that,” he finally answered, “but -”

Billy fell awkwardly silent, like he was struggling with this just as much as you were.

“But?” You prompted, not really sure you wanted to hear the rest.

“I need to know that you’re not gonna push me away again, and that you’ll tell me when I fuck things up. And - and I need to know that you’re not gonna fuck other guys.”

Some part of you wanted to be offended - Billy had already seen firsthand how badly trying to fuck other men had gone for you - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something vulnerable and you realised that you were asking him to do something he wasn’t used to. You were asking him to trust that you wouldn’t leave him. Whatever you were, it might not be a relationship but it would be exclusive.

“Okay,” you agreed, and Billy smirked at you.

“And you have to let me eat that sweet pussy whenever I want.”

“Hmm, I think I can just about manage that,” trying to bite back a laugh.

His hand moved to cup your cheek, but the moment you noticed the bruising you intercepted it, taking it between your own hands and inspecting the damage, concern written across your face.

“I’m sorry, Billy.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.” He was quick to comfort you, shushing you when you tried to protest. “I should’ve handled things better, you only went to the club ‘cause I was an asshole to you. Let’s just put it behind us, okay?”

You nodded, softly kissing his bruised knuckles before squirming closer to him and wrapping your arms around him again.

“Do you still want to take me for dinner?”

“Depends, do you want pizza again?” He asked with a laugh.

“I’ll let you pick this time.”

“Tomorrow, seven o’clock,” he decided and you nodded, “and pack a bag, I want to take you home with me afterwards.”

“Oh, you think you’re going to get lucky?”

“Sweetheart, as of this moment, I’m already the luckiest guy in the whole fucking world.” Billy grinned.

You laid in bed together for a little while longer before real life started to rear its ugly head. Billy’s phone started to ring and, honestly, it hadn’t even crossed your mind that he’d obviously decided to take a day off work just to be with you.

He slipped out of bed to answer the phone and you found yourself watching him, taking in the sight of his naked body while he bent to grab his phone from his pants. The conversation that followed seemed fairly one-sided and you couldn’t tell what was going on from Billy’s single word answers, but the look on his face said it was serious.

“What’s up?” You asked, as he hung up.

“A security issue’s come up at Anvil.” He answered with a sigh, moving back towards the bed.

“It’s okay, Billy. You can go if you have to. We’re going for dinner tomorrow night, right?” This wasn’t an ending, it was a start, and you wanted him to know that.

“Right,” he answered, leaning down to kiss you softly. “I meant what I said; pack a bag tomorrow. I need a whole night of you.”

He kissed you again, almost getting caught up in the moment before you managed to pull yourself away from him, pointing towards the door. You watched as he got dressed and pulled on a hoodie and some sweats to see him to the door.

Chapter Ten

END NOTES : I don't have much to say this chapter, because I don't want to risk giving anything away, but thanks so much if you've been keeping up with this! Unfortunately I've given up on trying to keep these chapters short now so, anything that follows is probably going to be the same length.

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (if it's not working for some reason... I honestly have no idea how to fix that but I hope it is working??)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @uncontainedsmiles @damagelove @danzer8705

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

189 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 1 year ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Fourteen

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R - very smutty (it gets messy)

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This chapter contains very vague mentions of Billy's assault by Arthur other than that, it just gets dirty. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~5.1k

A/N : This is set over a period of three weeks and I wrote a lot of it over the holidays while drinking wine which is the excuse I'm using for the smut being extra smutty. Also it's Billy's birthday! I know I say this every time, but thanks for reading!

Chapter Fourteen

You woke pressed back against Billy, his arms holding you tight against his chest. He’d been so exhausted the night before that you didn’t want to wake him, but you needed to get ready for work and you were sure he’d be needed at Anvil. Turning in his arms, you placed a hand on his cheek, lightly caressing his face with your thumb until he started to stir. The moment his eyes opened and he realised where he was, his lips pulled into a gentle smile.

“Hey,” he muttered, voice guff and sleepy.

“How did you sleep?” Thumb still tenderly brushing his cheek.

“Better than I have in years,” he answered, but still looked like he needed a few more hours. “What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty; I’ve gotta get up for work,” you yawned. “D’you want waffles?”

Billy didn’t answer. Instead his arms tightened around you, keeping you against him, his eyes shutting. “Five more minutes.”

There was something unbelievably soft about him in that moment, something cute, and you couldn’t deny him. It was strange to think that this was only the third time you’d woken up beside him because, already, you were certain you didn’t want to go back to waking up without him. With a soft sigh, you snuggled closer and closed your eyes, indulging him for five more minutes.

As promised, you made waffles and a pot of coffee, and enjoyed a little more time with him before you had to leave for work. You didn’t make plans to see him again, but Billy barely managed to make it to midday before texting to ask if he could stay over again that night, bribing you with promises of takeout. And, of course, you said yes.

It quickly became a regular thing; Billy coming round after work, eating together (sometimes take out, sometimes you’d cook), then you’d sit in front of the TV, enjoying each other's company before curling up in bed together.

You shared so many sweet moments and got to know each other - Billy even tried to explain baseball to you. (You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you still didn’t understand at the end, but you loved listening to him talk.)

“Did you ever play?” You asked, trying to picture a younger Billy in a baseball uniform, all cute rosy cheeks and devious smiles.

“Kinda - we used to play stickball since no one had a real bat,” he explained, “got to play at school though.”

“Yeah? Were you any good?”

“I used to think maybe I’d get a scholarship and go on to play in the majors,” he grinned, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and there was a sadness in his words you didn’t understand.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I, uh - I got hurt.”

“You shoulder?” You guessed, thinking back on all the times you’d seen him twitch and shift, remembering the scar you’d never asked about. Billy winced at your realisation.

“Yeah,” he let out a sigh, “when I was about ten, maybe eleven, there was this guy who used to volunteer at the group home; used to play stickball and hoops with us, we all thought he was so cool...”

He fell silent for a second or two, but it seemed to last a lifetime. Dread coiled in your stomach and, even though you had no idea what he was going to say, you were preparing yourself for the worst.

“When he called me pretty I knew something was wrong. I wasn’t interested in the games he wanted to play,” his gaze drifted away from you, “I swung at him with the stickball bat - got him pretty good a couple of times too. Prick paid me back by breaking my arm and tearing my rotator cuff...”

Before he’d even finished, your arms were around him, holding him tight. Your heart felt like it was shattering but in all that sadness, there was something else; rage. You wanted to hurt the piece of shit who’d dared lay a hand on Billy. You wanted to kill him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you just as tight. “I’m fine now.”

You didn’t say anything else about it - you didn’t know what you could say. So, instead, you just spent the rest of the night holding him tight, sad but happy that he’d trusted you enough to tell you.

As the days ticked by, you had more little moments with Billy, slowly getting to know each other, both revealing things you might have otherwise kept to yourself.

While watching a movie together, he noticed your gaze dropping uncomfortably as the lead character started to shed her clothes and your fingers started to pull at your sleeve. He didn’t say anything at first but, a couple of hours later you found his fingers around your wrist, his finger tracing the edge of your sleeve. When you looked up, you found an uncertain look on his face.

“What?” You asked, not sure you wanted an answer.

“I just -” he let out a slow exhale, thinking before continuing, “- I want you to know you never have to hide your scars from me. I know you don’t like people seeing them, but I want you to know that there isn’t a single part of you that I don’t think is perfect.”

“I don’t feel perfect,” but you weren’t prepared to have that conversation just yet, “but, thank you, Billy.”

“Scars don’t make you who you are, sweetheart.” He answered softly, kissing your cheek with a softness you didn’t know he was capable of.

It started to feel like you were getting an intensive crash course in all things Billy Russo and by the end of the second week, you were practically living together; he stayed every night, save the nights Tammy returned to the apartment. He took to taking things slowly better than you thought he would, but there were still some awkward mornings.

About a week in, you woke to find that his hand had slipped into your pyjama bottoms in his sleep, his fingers between your folds, coated in your arousal. His hard cock pressed against your ass. Half-asleep, you squirmed, trying to pull away, only to make the situation worse. His hold on you tightened, hips starting to grind against you from behind. You almost gave in as his fingers started to move.

“Billy,” you grumbled, pulling his hand from between your thighs, leaving you achingly unfulfilled.

He stirred behind you and quickly rolled away, muttering an apology as he left your room, no doubt heading for the bathroom. You tried to call after, to tell him it was okay, but he was gone before you could get the words out.

Fifteen minutes passed before he returned and, rather than getting back into bed, he sat on the edge of the bed, dropping his head into his hands. You gave him a moment before moving, kneeling behind him and wrapping your arms around him, not wanting him to feel bad about it.

“Come back to bed,” you muttered, pressing your lips to his bad shoulder, and pulling him until he finally relented.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed as you settled beside him again, resting your head on his chest so you could listen to the beating of his heart.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I was dreaming about you,” he confessed, causing your heart to stutter in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you offered a moment later, “I know taking things slowly can’t be easy for you.”

“It’s not,” your stomach dropped, “but it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and held you tight, the both of you soon falling asleep again. It happened a few more times over the following days; you’d catch him sneaking out to the bathroom, boxers uncomfortably tented. And, every time it happened, you found yourself reaching for your vibrator the moment that he’d left for the day, your own frustrations slowly getting the better of you.

But it felt like you were getting somewhere, like the thing between you was becoming something real, something that meant something.

Everything came to a head around Billy’s birthday - which, you hadn’t even realised was his birthday at the time. One day, around the three week mark, he turned up earlier than usual.

“Frank sent me home,” he explained, sounding annoyed as he kicked off his boots and hung up his coat.

“How come?”

“He’s got this stupid thing about people working on their birthdays,” he sighed, taking himself to the sofa and sitting down while you stood speechless, staring at him in confusion.

“It’s your birthday?” You were mortified - you hadn’t known, you hadn’t prepared. You hadn’t even gotten him so much as a card. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t really celebrate my birthday,” he shrugged, “don’t worry about it.”

It made sense, you supposed, growing up the way he had, birthdays probably hadn’t been a big deal for him like they had been for you. But that didn’t mean that it shouldn’t be a big deal now, that you shouldn’t at least try to do something for him.

You came up with a plan, something silly and small, something you hoped Billy would appreciate. But, in true Tammy fashion, she had to throw a spanner in the works, deciding that she needed the apartment the following night so she could catch up with her friends, meaning she would be inviting people like Michelle around to get drunk.

Reluctantly, you asked Billy if you could stay at the penthouse. It was the first time you’d been back since the day you’d walked out on him and, despite all the time you’d spent with him since then, it scared you, you felt like you had less control in his space instead of your own. But it was the only option if you wanted to do something for his birthday.

Billy arranged for the doorman, Marvin, to let you into the penthouse before he got home, giving you time to set up your surprise. It was silly, really, just some balloons and a birthday cake to eat after the dinner you were going to cook for him. After setting up - getting all the food in the oven, putting some candles on the table, and tying the balloons to the backs of the chairs - you changed into a dark red dress and put up your hair, pulling it out of your face.

Then came the awkward waiting as the minutes ticked by, flitting between excitement and worry with every passing minute. What if he didn’t like it?

By the time the elevator opened, the whole penthouse smelled like roasted meat and vegetables, and Billy looked - well, he looked tired. And confused.

“What’s going on?” He asked as you moved to meet him, smoothing out your dress before helping him out of his coat. The confusion on his face deepened when he noticed the balloons.

“I know you said you don’t really celebrate your birthday,” your voice broke and your gaze dropped, anxiety clawing beneath your ribs, “it just - it didn’t seem right not to do anything, and I thought -”

“You did all this for me?”

You looked up to find the sweetest, softest smile on his lips, the sort of smile that was so rare your chest ached at the sight.

“It’s just some food and balloons,” you shrugged.

“It’s perfect,” the smile stayed firmly on his lips as he cleared the distance between you, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you.

Melting against him you completely surrendered to the kiss, to Billy. It had been so long since he’d kissed you like that, with a barely contained want that set your heart racing. You felt his fingers tangle in the fabric of your dress and, when he finally pulled back, you caught that familiar look in his eyes; he was barely holding himself back.

His dark gaze held yours, flickering and sparking with desire as you bit your lip, knowing you should pull away. But you didn’t want to. He wet his lips before leaning slowly, lips so close to yours when -

You almost jumped out of your skin as the alarm on your phone started to sound.

Billy snapped back to the moment too, letting go of your dress and taking an awkward half-step back. But, for a second longer, you held his gaze, heart still pounding, longing for what could have been.

“I should -” you started, awkwardly clearing your throat, shaking your head, “- dinner is almost ready.”

“Right,” he answered, staying exactly where he was, his hand twitching at his side, desperate to reach for you again, “I’ll go get cleaned up.”

“Right,” you forced a breath, lingering a moment more before turning and heading back to the kitchen.

Over dinner you made small talk, asking about his day, listening as he vaguely explained some of the on-going issues with Anvil. Apparently the security issue was still driving Frank crazy and, in turn, he had been stressing Billy out over it.

Once you were done eating (and after you’d sung happy birthday to Billy and made him blow out the candles on his cake) you ended up on the sofa, pressed against Billy’s side with his arm wrapped around you, watching a movie that you quickly lost interest in. After an hour or so, you lifted your head to look at him, finding him staring at you.

“What?” you asked quietly, nervously.

“You’re amazing,” he muttered softly, pressing his lips to your forehead in such a tender way that it made your heart skip a beat. “Thank you, for all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you answered, pressing closer, lifting your head, “you deserve it.”

Without warning, you kissed him, knowing that there was only so much your words could say. You were gentle at first, Billy let you set the pace, let you press closer and closer, let your tongue softly brush against his own while you climbed onto his lap. He let you make all of the first moves, only speeding up when you did, waiting until you put your hands on him before he finally touched you.

One hand tangled in your hair, ruining the updo, while the other found your bare thigh beneath your dress, his touch sparking your arousal and causing a familiar heat between your thighs. You lost yourself to the moment, to him, knowing that this time there was no alarm waiting to disturb you. Your hips began to move, slowly at first but soon turning desperate, soft moans spilling from your lips once you felt the press of his erection against you.

“Billy -” you gasped against his lips, pleading for more, for all the things you couldn’t put into words.

“Are you sure?” He’d only ask once, and once you said yes there would be no going back to the calm safety of the last three weeks. He gave your hair a gentle tug, forcing you to look at him, letting him see the lust and want in your eyes when you finally answered.

“I need you,” you begged, still grinding against the hard outline of his cock, “please.”

He didn’t answer - he didn’t have to. He just kissed you fiercely, possessively, while the hand on your thigh moved upwards.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re soaked,” he all but growled against your lips as his fingers started to touch you through wet lace. You keened, desperate and eager for his touch. “What got you so wet?”

“You, Billy.”

He grinned, rewarding you by slipping his fingers into your panties, running his thick digits through your arousal, coating them in it before, finally, sinking two into you. You cried out, your fingers gripping his shoulders as he started to fuck you with them, reminding you just what you’d been missing out on. And, once he started to work his thumb over your clit, you were a goner.

You’d have been embarrassed about coming so fast if it wasn’t for his shit-eating grin and the fact you needed to get him out of his clothes. But the moment you started to pull at his shirt, he took hold of your wrists, restraining you while he kissed you.

“Not here, I need you in my bed,” he told you in a low, breathless voice, sounding barely in control of himself.

You lost yourself in the blur that followed; Billy carrying you to the bedroom, pulling off each other’s clothes, and eventually finding yourself thrown back onto his bed, your legs open as he knelt between them. Your gaze dropped to his cock standing thick and hard; it was enough to make your mouth water.

“Not yet,” he told you, reading your mind. Lifting your leg, he started to trail kisses down your thigh, causing you to squirm in anticipation, hips lifting as he sank down. “So fucking wet and needy.”

The only answer you gave was a moan when you felt his tongue start to run through your arousal in long, slow strokes. He lapped at your dripping slit, groaning against you, reacquainting himself with your pussy before turning his attention to your clit. Your whole body shook, fingers threading through his hair and holding him close as he started to devour you. You came against his lips, crying his name and begging him for more.

Trembling, you knew Billy was only just getting started; you’d already come twice but you were longing to know what came next.

He moved up your body, lips and fingers reacquainting himself with every inch of you, until his hips were slotted between your thighs and you felt the familiar nudge of his cock at your entrance. But, instead of filling you, Billy paused.

His hesitation was palpable as he took a slow breath and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closed tight.

“I don’t think I can be gentle,” he admitted, and your breath caught.

“Then don’t be,” you whispered, “fuck me, Billy. You won’t break me.” reaching down, you took his cock in hand and started to tease the tip through your wet folds. “I want you to fuck me.”

His fingers gripped your hip and, finally, his cock slowly began to slip inside you. After weeks of just your vibrator, having Billy inside you again was overwhelming, his impressive size stretching you like it was the first time all over again, and the two orgasms you’d already had left you feeling overstimulated. Squirming beneath him, you drew your thighs to his hips, desperate to take every inch of him. Once he bottomed out, he stilled breathing heavily.

When he didn’t move, you let out a whine and started to rock your hips, so close to coming now he was inside you again.

“Stop,” he gasped, “you’re gonna make me come too quick.”

It broke you to know he was barely holding on, that you could have that effect on him. You bit your lips as you stared up at the beautiful man on top of you, fingers running through his hair before you coaxed him down and into a slow kiss, giving him the time he needed.

When he finally started to move, he took things slowly, giving you both something you hadn’t even realised you needed. You felt every inch, every throb and twitch, you felt just how deep inside you he could reach. Everything was Billy and nothing else existed.

Each slow but purposeful thrust of his cock filled you in a way no one else ever had or would. And, when he lifted himself to kneel between your legs, changing the angle so you could feel the ridge of his shaft rubbing that special spot inside you, you couldn’t hold back.

“Fuck, Billy, I’m so close,” you gasped.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he told you in a barely contained voice, not asking but telling.

And you did, crying out as your body submitted to him without hesitation, back arching off the bed. The look on his face turned possessive, dominant, and that should have scared you - it should have scared you how easily you’d done what he wanted, how easily you’d given yourself to him. But it didn’t. It felt so good to not overthink, to just let him take control and bring you pleasure. You kept moaning his name, writhing beneath him as he continued to lay claim to you.

“I love how wet you get after coming, just listen,” he all but growled, hips finally picking up the pace. At any other time you would have been mortified by the sounds your body was making as he drove his cock into you but, now, you only wanted more. “Only thing that sounds better is the way you moan when I come inside you.”

You’d missed his filthy mouth, missed the way it made you feel to hear all his dirtiest thoughts while he fucked you.

“I haven’t come since the last time I was inside you,” he confessed in a breathless grunt, still pounding his cock into you in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head. He’d waited four weeks for this, for you. (So he hadn’t been jerking off all those mornings, he’d been waiting it out.)

“Please, Billy -” you begged mindlessly, pleading with him, every fibre of your being needing, wanting.

“You want me to come, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” His cock hitting just the right spot, causing your legs to tremble and your back to arch.

“You want me to fill your needy little pussy with cum?” He grit out, obviously getting close to breaking point.

“Please -” you continued to beg with a desperation that surprised both of you, walls clenching around him, trying to fight off your own end.

“Say it.” He demanded in a sudden, dominant tone that sent a thrill through your whole body and left you unable and unwilling to deny him.

“Fill me with cum, Billy” you cried out without hesitation, “please - please -”

You kept begging desperately beneath him until you felt his cock twitch inside you. You cried out as you shattered, your inner walls violently convulsing around him as he continued to fuck you, spilling himself in the deepest parts of you.

Another cry tore from your lips as he hit that sensitive spot inside of you. Overwhelmed and overstimulated, you felt a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs, causing your whole body to quake.

“Fuck, sweetheart, yes,” Billy groaned, pulling at your leg so he could hit that same spot over and over again, still pounding into your as he emptied himself, his fingers frantically rubbing your clit. You felt another gush before your vision started to blur. It felt like it was never going to end, like he was going to keep you in your moment of pleasure forever. His name was the only word you could form and, when he looked at you, you both knew the truth; you were his in every way.

By the time he was done, you were a trembling, panting mess beneath him. He stayed inside you, the last of his orgasm petering away to nothing, while you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Staring down at you, he groaned at the fucked-out expression on your face.

“You did so good,” he muttered softly, leaning to press his lips to your forehead, his hand tenderly cupping your cheek. “I always wondered what it’d take to fuck your brains out.”

At any other time you would have made a joke, told him that your brains were still exactly where they were meant to be, but you were too exhausted, your body still trembling. All you could do was let out a soft whine and that did something to Billy.

“It’s ok, I’ve got you,” he murmured tenderly, thumb softly caressing your cheek.

Kissing you softly, his tongue swept along the seam of your lips until you opened for him, giving him what he wanted, knowing there was nothing you’d deny him in that moment (or, perhaps, ever again). You moaned into his mouth, letting him kiss you as he softened inside you.

“I’m gonna pull out now, sweetheart,” he told you softly, despite the grin on his lips, “it might be messy, you made me come so hard.”

Another moan stole from your lips, your eyes closing tight as he slipped from your body, trying not to think about the wet mess he’d left between your thighs. When you dared to look, he was standing at the foot of the bed, staring down at you. Despite your embarrassment, you didn’t have the strength to close your legs.

“You look so perfect like this,” he muttered, softly placing a hand on your still-trembling thigh. A spark of thrill ran through you, loving the way he was looking at you, like you were the most perfect thing in the world to him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna take such good care of you. You just stay right there.”

Your eyes closed as he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water soon following. He soon returned to the bedroom to scoop you off the bed, holding you tight as he carried you into the bathroom and climbed into the tub with you, sitting behind you as he lowered you into the running water.

“Tell me if it gets too hot,” he whispered softly, pulling your hair away from your neck so he could kiss along your shoulder.

Snuggling against him, you felt yourself drifting off as the hot, bubbly water continued to rise around you. His arms wrapped around you possessively, and you’d never been happier than you were in that moment.

“Thank you, Billy,” you murmured, half-asleep.

“What for?”

“For waiting for me.”

He let out a gentle sigh. “You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart. You’re worth every second,” pressing his lips to your neck as he spoke. “Anyway, I should be thanking you; this was the best birthday party I’ve ever had.”

You smiled softly, quickly drifting off, not rousing again until you felt Billy gently washing you, soaping your arms and shoulders.

“Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, you did.” You didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling. “You must’ve exhausted yourself; you put on quite a show.”

“I’ve never -” you didn’t even have the words for whatever that in bed had been, but you felt your cheeks start to warm with embarrassment, “- I mean, not like that...”

“Did you like it?” He asked, hands running over the scars on your arms, washing away the bubbles.

Giving a soft hum, you thought about it for a second. “It was intense - everything always feels more intense with you.” Then, awkwardly, after a moment's pause, you dared to ask; “did you like it - me doing... that.”

You weren’t used to candid conversations about sex, not like Billy - before him you’d always been told what you wanted, what you enjoyed, and how you were supposed to feel about it. But, with Billy, he always listened, he always gave you what you wanted, what you liked.

“I like everything you do in bed, sweetheart,” he answered, still sounding like he was smiling, like he was happy. “But, yeah, I really liked it. I’d love to do that to you again.”

Your breath caught just at the thought, allowing yourself to think about how different everything suddenly felt now that you’d taken the time to get to know each other. It meant something now - what, you weren’t sure, but as your head shifted on his chest and you heard his racing heart, you were certain Billy felt it too.

When the water started to cool, Billy pulled the plug before gently lifting you out of the tub and sitting you on the edge. He wrapped a towel around himself before starting to dry you. Every touch was meticulous but gentle and, for reasons you didn’t entirely understand, you found yourself blinking back tears.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He asked, finally noticing when you tried to wipe your eyes with your hand.

“No one’s ever looked after me like you do,” you sniffled, not sure why you were suddenly overcome with emotion.

He wiped your tears away with the towel before pulling his robe from the back of the door and wrapping you up in it. His arms wrapped around you and he held you tight while you fought back the urge to cry. After everything you’d been through with him, it was impossible not to feel vulnerable.

“I’ll always look after you,” he promised as he lifted you up, “nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

Billy quickly whisked you back into the bedroom and sat you down in the armchair by the window while he stripped the messy bedding and replaced it with fresh linen. Then, before you knew it, you were deposited back in his bed while Billy dimmed the lights and turned on the TV before snuggling up with you.

You watched TV and dozed in his arms for the next couple of hours, until he finally turned off the lights so you could both sleep. You laid facing him, nose to nose, letting out a gentle sigh. when, without warning, he nudged your legs apart and you felt the ridge of his hard cock between your folds again.

With slow movements of his hips he teased himself against you until your arousal started to wet his cock. You mewled softly, too exhausted to do much of anything beyond what your body was already doing of its own accord. His hand soon slipped between you, directing his erection to your slickened slit.

“Billy -” you moaned as you felt his tip start to nudge its way into you, “I don’t think I can...”

He shushed you softly. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I just want to fall asleep inside of you. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

When you didn’t object further, you felt his cock start to slowly fill you. A soft moan spilled from you but it was quickly swallowed by his lips as he kissed you gently, tenderly. And, once he was buried inside of you, his arms held you tight against his chest.

“Mine,” Billy whispered, pressing one last sweet kiss to your lips.

And you were.

You were completely Billy’s now. You just weren’t sure how to tell him…

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

END NOTES : I didn't mean for this to get so long but I didn't want to break it up. I liked playing around with them actually learning a bit about each other and functioning like a normal couple for a while. I have a bonus Christmas thing that I wanted to post earlier, but it wouldn't have worked with where the story was, so I'm probably going to be posting that on Sunday - you don't have to read it to keep up with the story though (it's just a bit of smutty xmas fun).

Anyway, as always, thank you so much for reading this, it's really great to see how many of you come by week after week and I really appreciate every single one of you!!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it's not working for everyone - if it's not working and you don't want to miss a chapter, I post pretty much every friday, though there will be a bonus chapter going up on sunday)

TAG LIST

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo x female reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #cmiyc ff

154 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 1 year ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Thirteen

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This chapter contains very vague mentions of an unhealthy relationship (Billy/Krista) and a sibling death. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~4.7k

A/N : This is set a week or so after the last chapter after the last chapter. Thanks to everyone still reading this, I'm honestly overwhelmed by how many of you are following this week after week. I've hit 83 subscribers now and I'm at such a loss for words. Thanks for being awesome.

Chapter Thirteen

To his credit, Billy left you alone, giving you the time that you had asked for. But the longer you went without hearing from him, the more you found yourself staring at your phone, longing for it to ring or light up with a message from him. Selfishly, you wanted him to fight for you, even though you’d asked him not to. You’d told him you needed time and he was giving it to you, so it wasn’t fair for you to feel disappointed. But you did and, the more time that passed, the more it felt like things were over.

And it hurt - it hurt more than you could describe. It was exactly what you’d been afraid of, the sort of pain that only Billy could cause. He hadn’t just become a part of your life, he’d taken over it, he’d become everything in such a short amount of time. You’d let yourself get too attached, too fast, and now you felt ridiculous. It had only been a few weeks. It shouldn’t hurt so much, but the longer you left it, the more certain you were that Billy had given up on you. And that thought hurt more than anything else.

It hurt because you didn’t know if he was hurting.

It hurt because some part of you wanted him to hurt, for him to feel what you were feeling.

(It hurt because you were worried that he was hurting and that he felt like you’d abandoned him.)

And, the worst part? You still hadn’t come to terms with anything that had happened, why you’d walked out in the first place. You didn’t want to come to terms with it, you didn’t even want to think about it. There was a reason you wanted to keep the past buried. You’d fought so hard against being with Billy because you’d known that there would be moments where you couldn’t keep your past separate without letting something slip. And, now, Billy had some idea of what you’d been through - and how were you supposed to even start to explain it to him?

After a week, you’d all but given up. It was done, over. Billy was out of your life and you were sure you’d both be better for it.

“So - you and Billy, that’s over now?” Karen asked with all the tact of a sledgehammer as she sat across from you, placing your drink in front of you.

She’d asked you out, told you it was to do with work, but you should have guessed that the topic of you and Billy was going to come up. At least she didn’t sound upset or surprised that you’d broken things off with her friend.

“I guess? I don’t know,” you shrugged awkwardly, gaze dropping to the drink in front of you. “Did he tell you that it was?”

“No, Frank put it together when Billy started turning up at Anvil hungover.”

You first thought was worry, but that quickly became something else the more you thought about it. Hangovers meant that he’d been spending his nights drinking, and Billy never struck you as the type to drink alone. And, if he wasn’t drinking alone, he probably wasn’t going home alone either.

You’d spent a week worrying and pining over him, and he’d probably had someone new in his bed only a few hours after you’d left him.

“What happened?” She asked, breaking the silence that you’d allowed to fall.

“It wasn’t going to work out,” you forced yourself to look at her and the look she shot you told you that she wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing, it’s not -” a heavy sigh slipped out and you reached for your beer, “- there was something I didn’t want to tell him and it kinda came out in an argument, and we both overreacted. And, now everything’s a mess and I just - I think he’ll be better off without me.”

“I don’t think Frank’d agree; he’s babysitting Billy tonight, says he’s never seen him like this before.” It wasn’t her intention to hurt you, but it did hurt.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of other women out there that’ll make him feel better,” you muttered, not even trying to cover the bitterness in your tone.

“I don’t think that’s what Billy wants anymore...” she answered back before taking a drink.

As much as you wanted to ask what she meant, as much as you wanted to indulge the little spark of hope that had lit itself in your chest, you knew that dragging things out would only lead to more pain.

“Look, I - I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to talk about it,” you finally told her as firmly, but politely as possible. “You said you wanted to talk about work?”

Karen took a moment, and you could tell there was more she wanted to say, but the discomfort on your face was enough to convince her not to.

“One of our photographers was supposed to be taking some maternity leave in a couple of months, but she decided that she doesn’t want to come back after. I just thought that, if you wanted, I could put your name forward for the job?”

“You mean I’d be working for The Bulletin full-time?”

“Yeah, it’d be a full salaried position.”

“I, uh -” despite everything else you were feeling, you felt your lips pull into an awkward sort of smile, though you tried not to get too excited about the idea, “- that would be amazing, thank you.”

Karen reiterated the fact that it wasn’t an actual offer of a job just yet, that she still needed to get her boss onboard with it, but she seemed hopeful that she’d be able to convince him - after all, you’d always done good work for them in the past.

The mood shifted after that; you had more drinks and played some pool with Karen and a couple of guys that she used to work with; Matt and Foggy, who’d turned up at the bar an hour or so after you and Karen. And it was fun, it was nice - and, after the week of misery that you’d been through, it felt good to stop thinking about Billy.

But every time you saw Karen looking at her phone, you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining that she was talking to Frank, and Frank was telling her about Billy. And, eventually, it became too much to bear. You didn’t want to keep pretending that he didn’t exist. So, you pulled your phone out and found yourself staring at one of the last messages he’d sent you.

I never knew I could miss someone so much.

Your heart ached and you knew that you couldn’t keep dragging things out, that your silence wasn’t fair to either of you.

I know it’s probably not worth anything now, but I just want you to know that I’m sorry how things turned out. I never meant to hurt you.

Less than a minute after you hit send, he started to type, as if he’d been staring at his phone just waiting for you to text. It started and then stopped over and over again, you held your breath, not sure you were going to like whatever it was that he had to say.

Don’t be sorry. You did nothing wrong.

He finally answered and you kept staring at your phone, hoping, wanting more for him. But, after five minutes, there was still nothing besides that one little message. You waited another minute before replying;

Are you okay?

You weren’t sure whether or not you expected an answer - he was probably busy, probably having fun without you.

Fine.

It took less than twenty seconds for him to answer. Okay, so not too busy having fun, but his short responses made it seem like he wasn’t all that interested. It felt like you finally had your answer; it was over.

Okay.

Was all you sent in response because you still couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye. And, then, there was nothing. He read the message but he didn’t even try to reply. After fifteen minutes you couldn’t bear to look at your phone, you just wanted to go home and sleep but Karen and her friends wanted you to stay. It was sweet, really, the way they seemed to want to cheer you up, you just weren’t sure that it was going to help at all. But, still, you stayed and played a few more rounds of pool before Karen’s face dropped.

Following her gaze, you looked towards the door and found Frank and Billy standing there. Frank came closer, but Billy stayed where he was.

“What the hell, Frank?” Karen demanded.

“He wasn’t gonna take no for an answer,” Frank told her, sparing you a glance, “if he can talk to her maybe they can sort their shit out and I won’t have to carry him home again.”

Your stomach knotted, eyes finding Billy again - had he been that bad? He didn’t look great; he looked tired, dishevelled, and like he’d already had a little too much to drink. Not exactly the best conditions for having a serious conversation, but if it was all you were going to get then you were going to have to take it.

“You don’t have to,” Frank started again, this time addressing you, “just say the word and I’ll drag his ass outta here, but I really think you oughta put him out of his misery if you’re done with him.”

You looked at Billy for a second more, his dark eyes fixed on you until you gave a slight nod of your head, motioning towards an empty booth where you could talk. Billy gave the slightest nod in return before starting to move. You heard Karen mutter something but your attention was stuck on Billy who looked like a man walking to his own execution.

Grabbing your drink off the edge of the pool table you headed for the booth, sliding in opposite him.

“Hey,” you offered softly, managing the slightest of smiles. Up close he looked worse than you'd originally thought.

“Hey,”

Then came silence and you quickly realised that he could barely bring himself to even look at you. About thirty seconds passed before he said anything.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” his voice was soft, so quiet that it was almost lost in the noise around you. “When I said I had issues with impulse control, it’s not just sex, it’s - sometimes things just make me feel crazy...”

He trailed off into silence and it quickly became clear that he didn’t even know where to start. So much had happened all at once and you didn’t blame him for not knowing how to talk about it. You weren’t sure either, but you decided to try to help.

“It wasn’t that you scared me - I didn’t think that you’d -” you took an awkward breath, but you didn’t stop, “I know you’d never hurt me like that. But when you said it, I panicked. You were so upset and I couldn’t think, and I just needed some space. I didn’t tell you about the scar because - because I can’t talk about it. I feel like I can’t even breathe when I think about it...”

You weren’t even sure if he understood, or if you were even making sense. Without even realising it, you’d started to tug at the sleeve of your top. Your heart was pounding in your chest and all you wanted to do was run and hide from all the feelings that stirred inside you when you thought about that scar.

Silence fell again, and Billy continued to struggle to find the words he wanted to say. It made your stomach knot to see him that way when, usually, he had an answer for everything. But you didn’t push, didn’t look at him impatiently. You wanted to give him time to explain himself. If this was the last time you saw him, you wanted to make sure he got to say everything he felt he needed to say.

“I feel out of control when I’m with you,” he confessed, “and it scares me.”

“Why? How? I don’t -” you weren’t sure you wanted an answer. Billy always seemed so in control to you, so completely unflappable and ready to take over any situation, so you just couldn’t fathom him feeling any other way.

“You make me want things I can’t have,” he struggled to hold your gaze and you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him look so vulnerable, “I know how I am isn’t ever gonna be enough for you and there’s nothing I can do to fix it; I can’t buy you with nice things, you don’t want my money, and I dunno how long I’m gonna be enough for you...”

As much as you’d wanted honesty from him, you hated every awkward word that left his lips. Your chest ached and your stomach knotted, and it made you angry that he thought so little of himself - that other people had let him think so little of himself.

“You’re wrong,” you told him, barely managing to bite back your anger. “You are enough - for me or for anyone else.”

“If I was, you wouldn’t have left me.”

It kept coming back to that, like he couldn’t understand that your leaving that day was because of the argument, not because of him. It wasn’t because you stopped wanting him, and it certainly wasn’t because he wasn’t enough.

“I left because you wouldn’t listen to me, Billy,” you tried to explain, “I didn’t want to leave, I just can’t do this if you won’t listen to me, if you won’t trust me. I can’t do that again. I didn’t leave you, I left the situation.”

“You said you needed time,” he answered back, still sounding so defeated. “I gave you time and you didn’t call.”

He had you there. Sure, you could lie to him, tell him that it had always been your intention to text him tonight, but that just felt wrong. You didn’t want to lie.

“I was scared,” you admitted and the look he gave you almost broke your heart, so much that you had to quickly correct; “not of you - of this, of us. Being with you is amazing, it’s just... it’s a lot, Billy, you know?”

He managed a nod. “When I looked through your phone, all I could think was that you’d found someone else and I’d be on my own again. ‘cause it’s just us, I -”

“You don’t want to be exclusive in case I leave you? You want to fuck other women so you have something to fall back on if we break up?” His eyes found yours as your voice broke but, soon enough they dropped to your hand, watching as continued to tug at your sleeve. “You keep saying that but I don’t know what you mean.”

“I don’t want that. I don’t want anyone else,” he tried to explain, stumbling over his words in a desperate attempt to make you understand. “That’s what fucks me up; it’s just us and that means, if I fuck up, I’ll be on my own again. But that doesn’t mean I want anyone else - I want whatever this is. I want us. I like being with you...”

“I -” you started then stopped, trying to wrap your head around everything that had been said, trying to decide what you really wanted, “- I like being with you, too.”

“I don’t know how to not fuck this up,” he sighed. “How can I fix this?”

Suddenly it didn’t feel like an ending, it felt like you could save whatever this was and, even though you were still scared that it’d go horribly wrong, you couldn’t deny that you still wanted him. Somewhere along the way, you’d started to care about him, and having gone through a week without him, you knew that you weren’t ready to let him go.

“I need you to talk to me - when things make you feel out of control, I need you to tell me, and I need you to try and listen to my side of things. And - and I’ll try not to hide so much.” Because being with him was worth that discomfort, it was worth letting him know some of the things that no one else knew.

“Does that mean we’re still -”

There still wasn’t a word for what you were, but you nodded regardless.

“If you promise you’ll talk to me and not -”

“I will,” he answered suddenly, like he was desperate for things to go back to how they had been. He reached across the table before you could respond, taking your hand in his, pulling your fingers away from your sleeve and holding tight. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” the slightest smile appearing on your lips for a few short seconds. “I was worried about you.”

Billy gave you a confused look but didn’t want to ask why. Instead his gaze dropped to your hands and his thumb started to rub gentle circles on the back of your hand. He seemed to have relaxed a little since he first showed up at the bar and, once some of the discomfort had dropped from his features, you could see just how exhausted he was.

“When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

“The last time you stayed over.” Almost two weeks ago. No wonder he looked terrible. Still, he forced a smile and a shrug. “I’m fine.”

“Billy, you need sleep,” you told him softly.

“I -” he started and stopped awkwardly, “- I don’t sleep very well when I’m on my own.”

With any other man at any other time, you would have seen it as a ploy to get you into bed, but there was something about the way he said it, the way he looked in that moment.

“Do you want to -” you started before almost reconsidering, “- do you want to stay over tonight? Just to sleep, I - I don’t know when I’ll be ready for anything more than that.”

“I’d like that. I - we - can take things slow, whatever you need.” And, suddenly, there was hope on his face again.

“Okay, just - just stay here a minute while I tell Karen we're leaving.”

Karen, for obvious reasons, had her reservations about you taking Billy home. She tried to talk you out of it while Frank did his best to stay quiet on the matter, but the look on his face seemed to suggest he was glad that you'd sorted things out. You didn't dare ask how much Billy had told him, you didn't even want to think about it.

You ordered an Uber and headed back to the table to wait, this time sitting next to Billy, letting him take your hand in his again. He didn't say much, presumably because he was tired, and once the Uber was there he followed you outside, still clinging to your hand. You barely spoke the whole ride back to your apartment, save to tell him that Tammy wouldn’t be there because she’d been staying with her new boyfriend a lot.

He held your hand as you led him up the stairs and into the apartment, still so quiet. Once the door was shut behind you and you were finally alone, you found yourself holding your breath, expecting Billy to do - something, anything. Instead he did nothing; there were no awkward attempts to kiss you or hold you and, once you let go of his hand, he kept a respectable distance.

And you hated it.

Not because you hadn’t wanted it and not because you hadn’t agreed that you needed to take things slow, but because Billy seemed almost afraid of touching you or getting too close, and you knew exactly why. This was why you hadn’t wanted to tell him about your past or your scars, because you didn’t want him to see you as someone who’d been hurt in the past.

No, no - as much as you needed to take things slowly, you couldn’t stand this muted version of him.

Reaching for his hand, you pulled him through the apartment and into the bathroom. He gave you a confused look as you reached into the shower and started the water.

“You smell of whiskey,” was the only explanation you offered before slowly helping him out of his clothes. Unlike every other time you’d undressed him, there was nothing sexual about the act and Billy understood that.

Ushering him into the shower, you quickly shed your own clothes and followed after, earning a tired laugh from him when he saw your blue shower cap with rubber ducks printed on it. You helped him wash, lathering him in your vanilla scented body wash before letting him do the same for you. All the while, neither of you really spoke, but he seemed to relax a little and realise that, even if you were taking things slow, he didn’t have to keep his distance.

Done in the shower and both somewhat dressed again (you in your PJs and Billy in his boxers) you led him to your bedroom and told him to get into bed before disappearing to the kitchen. You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but a few minutes later you returned to the room with two mugs of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows.

But you almost froze when you found him in your bed holding the framed photo that usually sat on your bedside table. He put it back the moment he realised you were there.

“Sorry, I was just -”

“It’s okay,” you shook your head as you handed him his drink and climbed into bed beside him. You put your mug down on the bedside table and reached for the frame, looking at the three children in the photograph, standing happily on a golden, sandy beach.

“Is that your brother?” He dared to ask.

“Yeah,” you smiled softly, looking at the gangly boy in the picture, “that’s Sam.”

“And the other girl?”

The smile faded almost entirely. “Lily, my little sister.”

“You have a sister?”

“Had. She - she died a year or two after this photo was taken.”

You heard the exhale but you didn't look at him, you didn't want to see the look on his face.

“I'm sorry,” he offered softly.

You didn't respond, you just put the photo back and grabbed for the TV remote. Soon enough you were sipping hot chocolate and watching Bob's Burgers. Billy, for the most part, stayed quiet, drinking his hot drink without comment and letting out little huffs of laughter any time he found something in the show amusing.

Billy looked half asleep by the time he’d finished his hot chocolate, his eyes closing for seconds at a time but he didn’t seem to want to give in to sleep.

“How was your hot chocolate?” You asked taking his empty mug and placing it beside yours on the nightstand, a little amused that he’d drunk the whole thing without commenting on it once

“It was nice. This is nice, it’s -” he started before stopping, an awkward sort of smile on his lips, “- no one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

In a way, it felt special to be able to give Billy any sort of first, but you couldn’t help the feeling of sadness that swelled inside you. How had he never had this before? How had no one else in his life ever offered him this simple sort of comfort?

“Hey,” he muttered softly, his hand finding your cheek, “don’t be sad.”

“I’m not, I just - how has no one ever taken care of you before?”

“I guess I never really let anyone. I never really wanted to.” His shoulder ticked in an awkward sort of half-shrug. “A lot of my relationships haven’t exactly been deep.”

You hesitated before asking; “what about Krista?”

A flicker of tension ran across his face, and you regretted asking, so much so that you almost wanted to take it back. Billy settled back a little, using getting himself comfortable as an excuse not to answer for a few seconds.

“Krista happened at a bad time in my life,” he finally sighed, “I'd been hurt, she was my therapist, I - I told her things I’ve never told anyone. She made me feel broken but told me I could be fixed, and that was all I wanted.”

You tried your best to school your expression, to not let him see the emotions that were warring inside of you; sadness for him, and a hatred of her that had you hoping you saw her again just so you could tell her what you thought of her.

“I stopped going to our sessions after a while - therapy just wasn’t for me,” he shrugged and it was no surprise why. “But when I ran into her again, it felt like there was a connection, it felt easy because she already knew me better than almost anyone. It started slow, she’d make little comments about things, then when I’d argue she’d tell me that I was upset because I don’t feel things the right way - that my trauma messed up the way I process emotions - and, sometimes, when I wanted to -” you were glad he decided not to go into any detail at all about sleeping with her, “- she’d act like I was being unreasonable for wanting it, like it was too much or I wanted too much...”

“She told you that you have poor impulse control.” You’d already assumed as much, but he confirmed it with a nod of his head.

“At the time, it felt like she was being completely reasonable and that, if I did what she wanted, I’d get better...”

“Billy...” you offered tenderly, finding his hand on top of the blankets and taking hold of it, “there’s nothing wrong with you and - and that bitch should never have told you there was. You know that, right? She shouldn’t’ve even been in a relationship with you; it’s so disgusting and unprofessional.”

He just shrugged at your anger, sinking down the bed a little more obviously too tired to carry on the conversation (or maybe he just didn’t want to because he didn’t want to argue). You followed suit until you were both laid beside each other, the tips of your noses almost touching.

“Why weren’t you answering your brother’s calls?” He asked after a minute or so of silence, and it was your turn to sigh.

“It’s complicated,” and you didn’t really want to say more than that, but given everything Billy had told you about Krista, it didn’t seem fair not to give him a real answer. “He can be... protective. He doesn’t think I can take care of myself and it feels suffocating. After we started seeing each other, I felt like I was in a good place and I didn’t want him making me feel bad about it.”

“Why would he make you feel bad?”

“Because haven’t always had the best taste in men and because he doesn’t realise that I’ve grown up.” You sighed again. If Billy could tell you were holding things back, he didn’t let on.

“You think he wouldn’t approve of me?”

“I think it doesn’t matter what he thinks,” you shrugged, “but, if he got to know you, I know he’d like you, he’d just - he’d find a way to make me feel like I shouldn’t be with you, like I can’t handle it.”

He nodded and decided not to say anything else on matter; it felt like a good middle ground; you’d both shared what needed to be shared, everything else could come later. His eyes closed again and you tried your best to stifle a yawn before awkwardly twisting to turn off the lamp, plunging you into darkness.

Without thinking, you reached for him, your fingers stroking his hair, trying to soothe him to sleep.

“I should be taking care of you,” he muttered softly, “I’m the one that fucked up.”

You shushed him, before whispering; “I’m proving a point.”

“What point?”

“That you are enough, Billy.”

He didn’t say another word before falling asleep.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

END NOTES : So this one got a bit talk-y and I hope people don't mind that. I just need Billy and reader to really get to know each other before I can get them to where they're going. Don't worry, they're not going to be able to keep their hands off each other for long.

As always, thank you so much for reading, I'm still completely blown away how many of you come back week after week to read this!!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know some people are having issues with the tags? think you might need to enable tagging on your end of things? IDK tumblr is weird)

TAG LIST

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #cmiyc ff #billy russo imagine

148 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 1 year ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Eighteen

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some dark stuff pertaining to an abusive past relationship, attempted murder, and vague details of a car crash. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~4.4k

A/N : Set about a week after the last one! I'm honestly a little nervous about this chapter, I hope you like it! As always thanks so much for reading!

Chapter Eighteen

The whole world came crashing down around you in a single moment.

You didn’t realise until it was too late to stop it, until it was too late to change anything and avoid the inevitable consequences.

The private investigator took the envelope full of cash before sliding the file across the table to you, sparing you one last glance and a couple of words of warning before climbing out of the booth and heading towards the exit. Your gaze followed him out of the diner and onto the street, where he walked past -

Your heart stopped.

Frank.

He had his phone out, pointing right at you through the diner window, a mix of betrayal and disappointment on his face. It took a moment to figure out what was happening, for the penny to finally drop, but when it did, you felt your entire body fill with panic; he thought you were the security threat, the person who’d been digging into anvil over the last couple of months.

Your heart started to race, knowing that he was going to tell Billy what he thought he’d seen, that he’d seen you paying off the PI who’d been snooping around Anvil. You scrambled out of the booth, almost tripping over your own feet, desperate to get to Frank and fix the situation before it spiralled out of control.

But he was already on the phone by the time you got outside. You kept the file clutched to your chest, holding it against you like a shield as you approached the imposing figure of Frank Castle, stomach knotting as you heard him speak.

“Yeah, Bill, I’ll deal with it,” his eyes fixed on you as you stopped in front of him.

You waited in silence, for a moment thinking you could just about hear Billy’s voice on the other end of the phone before Frank hung up and dropped his phone into his pocket.

“I’m gonna need you to give me that,” Frank said, holding out his hand, expecting you to hand the file over.

“I can’t.” Because, despite everything that was happening, you knew one thing for sure; you couldn’t let anyone see the file, couldn’t let them know about your past.

“Y’know, the crazy thing is that I thought Bill was gonna be the one to break your heart, not the other way around,” Frank shook his head.

“You don’t understand -”

“Pretty sure I do,” he interrupted, not willing to listen to your explanations, “you’ve had your PI lookin’ into Anvil and Bill for weeks now, so give it up.”

“No, that’s not -” but you could already tell that he wasn’t going to listen to you, that he’d made up his mind. “I need to see Billy, I have to explain this to him.”

“That’s great ‘cause he’s already waiting at Anvil for you.”

You stared at him for a moment before realising that you had a choice to make - he couldn’t very well bundle you into his car in broad daylight, but you were aware how bad it would look for you if you refused to go with him. You’d just given up every single dollar to your name for the file in your hand and, now, you needed to make sure that it hadn’t all been for nothing.

“Okay,” you relented, “take me to Billy.”

Frank gave a grunt and nodded towards his truck. You followed after him, climbing into the passenger seat and keeping your eyes fixed forward. Once he’d started the engine, you reached for your phone, hastily typing up a message to Karen, wanting to try and explain what was going on before Frank told her.

“Who you texting?” Frank asked suddenly, taking his eyes off the road.

“Karen, I -” he snatched your phone before you could finish, your thumb managing to hit send on the half finished message as he pulled it away from you. “What the fuck?”

“You’re not draggin’ Karen into this shit,” he told you, his eyes returning to the road just in time to keep from running a red light - a sharp stop that caused your anxiety to spike even more, reminding you of the accident years ago. You were so distracted that you only caught the last half of what Frank was saying, “- when Bill’s done with you.”

You didn’t argue, didn’t ask him to repeat himself. You just wanted him to concentrate on the road. So, you remained silent, clutching the file to your chest and watching out the windscreen. The way he drove across the city made your heart race and your chest tighten, practically jumping out of your skin with every screech of brakes or honk of a horn.

And, when you reached Anvil some fifteen minutes later, you were quick to scramble out of the truck, almost gasping for breath.

He gave another grunt, indicating that you should follow him and, stupidly, you did just that. You didn’t realise that anything was wrong until you were in the elevator and realised that you were being taken down to the basement level instead of up to Billy’s office.

“Why aren’t we going to Billy’s office?” You asked, dread already starting to coil in your stomach.

“Bill doesn’t want you in his office,” Frank answered as the doors slid open, revealing a cold and terrifying looking corridor.

“I want my phone back.” You told him, unable to stop the fear from filling your tone.

“Told you, you can have it back when Bill’s done with you,” he motioned for you to start moving and, with no other option, you did.

When the elevator doors slid shut, your thoughts started to spiral to dark places you didn’t want them to go, to memories of feeling trapped and powerless. A lump rose in your throat and tears were already starting to sting your eyes as your footsteps echoed down the long hallway. When Frank stopped and opened a door, you let him usher you inside before you realised your mistake.

The door closed behind you, leaving you trapped and alone in what appeared to be an interrogation room. Had your state of mind been better, you might have realised that the room was used for training new recruits and conducting interviews but, since you were panicking, all you could think was that you were going to be trapped there until you confessed to all of the things you hadn’t done.

You turned back to the door quickly, pulling at the handle. You weren’t surprised to find it locked, but it did nothing to stop the panic that was raging inside of you.

The room had a long metal table and two chairs, one on either side, but you didn’t move to sit. You couldn’t move at all, terror had you rooted in place, your fingers still tightly gripping the file against your chest. There was a camera blinking in the corner of the room and you felt your stomach drop; was Billy watching you right now, could he see the terror on your face? (And, if he could, why wasn’t he coming to help you?)

Minutes passed before Billy stepped into the room. You stayed frozen as he stepped around you and you waited - you waited for him to tell you that this was all some big mistake, that he knew you’d never do the things Frank had accused you of. But it never came. As he took a seat, your eyes closed tight, silently willing yourself to wake up from this nightmare.

Another minute passed in total silence, like he was waiting for you to speak first and dig your own grave, but you couldn’t even look at him, much less form the words you needed to explain all of this to him.

“Just give me the file,” he finally said.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, eyes still closed tight.

“Who are you working for?” There was something cold in his voice, something broken and full of pain and, despite everything he was putting you thought, some part of you longed to comfort him.

“No one, I’m not -”

“Don’t lie to me!” The sound of his open palm hitting the surface of the table caused you to flinch, your eyes opening as you took a step back and pressed yourself against the wall, needing to put as much distance between you and Billy as possible. “You paid someone to look into Anvil, into me.”

“No, that’s not what happened! You don’t understand -”

“What were you after; finances? Mission details? How much were you getting paid?” His tone got sharper with every word.

“I wasn’t after anything, that’s not what this is. It’s not about Anvil -” you tried desperately still, somehow, holding onto some small glimmer of hope that you could fix things before they got too broken.

“Bullshit!”

“Please, Billy,” you struggled to find the words in your panic, “you promised that you’d trust me, that you’d -”

“I did trust you!”

His use of the past tense caused something to break inside of you, and you felt a sort of pain that you hadn’t felt in years, the sort of pain that could only be inflicted by someone you loved.

“Stop, please, Billy just -” you tried again, blinking back tears.

Everything was falling apart around you, the future you’d let yourself hope for was slipping away; you were going to move in with him, you were going to go work for The Bulletin, and you were finally going to start rebuilding your life after so many years of just existing and scraping a living. All your dreams were dying all at once, all because he wouldn’t listen to you, because he couldn’t trust you.

Some part of you knew that if you could just find the words, you’d be able to make him understand, but your panicked, racing mind couldn’t focus enough to say or do anything to help fix things.

“How long?” He asked coldly, ignoring your tears. “How long have you been lying to me, using me?”

“I wasn’t lying! Why won’t you listen to me? Why can’t you trust me?” You heard yourself begging desperately.

“Because you’ve been lying to me for months!” His voice got louder, sharper, and you no longer recognised the man in front of you. This wasn’t your Billy, this was someone else entirely. “You know, you really had me fooled, pretending to be this wounded little thing, acting like you wanted me, like we had something.”

“It wasn’t an act!” You managed to raise your voice to match him, desperate to make him listen, to convince him that you still cared, but Billy didn’t even seem to hear it. “Please, just - just let me explain. I can explain this.”

“Explain what? That none of this was real? That you tricked me into wanting you so you could get close enough to stab me in the back? Did you get paid extra to fuck me or was jumping into my bed just part of the game for you?” You could still hear the pain in his tone, but the moment Billy said those words to you, something inside of you snapped.

Your stomach continued to tie itself in knots. You hated every little thing about this, hated how he thought you were as bad as all of the other people who had used him and lied to him to get what they wanted. But your pain quickly started to turn to anger - he wasn’t the only one who’d ever been hurt, he wasn’t the only one who’d been lied to and used. As hurt as Billy obviously was by this whole situation, he’d broken his promises to you; he wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t hear you out, wouldn’t trust you.

You were being blamed for something you hadn’t done and you were going to lose everything because of it. Again.

“You think I jumped into bed with you?” Your tone turned sharper, colder, and more certain - because, in all of this, if you were certain of one thing, it was that you did not just jump into bed with him. Finally you had his attention, just in time for you to tell him; “falling in love with you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Billy. And you’ve just managed to prove why it was such a stupid idea.”

It was the first time you’d dared utter that you loved him aloud, but you were no longer scared of how he was going to react to the revelation or how vulnerable it would make you feel. It was too late to care about any of that. You’d come to Anvil hoping to save things with Billy but that dream was now over.

And, for the first time since all of this began, you realised that the truth of your past couldn’t hurt you anymore. It didn’t matter if Billy knew because he’d already given up on you, whatever was between you was over now, and everything you’d done to try and preserve it had been for nothing.

“Fine,” you relented, forcing yourself to step away from the wall and towards the table. Once you were close enough you slammed the file down in front of him so hard that its contents spilled out across the table; photographs of you, notes about your work, your friends and your finances.

Billy’s eyes dropped, quickly looking over it, starting to move things, rummaging through the paperwork, trying to make sense of it.

“It was never about you or Anvil. He was looking for me. And I just spent every penny I had paying him off so I wouldn’t have to leave New York, so I wouldn’t have to leave you. But I guess the jokes on me, because you don’t even care enough to keep your promises to me and just listen for five fucking minutes.” By the time you’d finished, you had to cover your mouth to try and suppress the sobs that were desperate to escape you.

Billy stayed silent, rifling through the pages and photographs in front of him, seeming to become more frantic with every passing second as he looked for something, anything, to prove that he hadn’t just destroyed your relationship for nothing.

You watched him for a second, knowing exactly what he’d find in the file, and knowing the questions he’d inevitably have for you when he found the details of your sister's death, and the car crash that had left you scarred. But it was too late for any of that now, he’d lost any right to ask anything about your past.

Moving back to the door, you gave the handle a sharp tug, even though you were pretty certain that the door was still locked.

“Wait -” his broken tone caused you to bristle. Where once you would have felt compassion, you now only felt anger.

“Let me out.”

“I don’t understand,” he told you, as he got to his feet and started to move towards you, his expression one of confusion instead of anger. You held up a hand, wanting him to keep his distance and Billy stopped. In his hand he was holding a copy of the photograph that he’d seen on your bedside table all those weeks ago, the photo of you and your siblings as children. “Please, help me understand this. I want to understand.”

“Which part, Billy? The part where you refused to listen, when you wouldn’t hear me out, when you wouldn’t trust me like you promised?” A hand scrubbed at your cheek, desperately trying to wipe away your tears, not wanting him to see just how much he’d wounded you. “Or the part where you thought so little of me that you thought I was fucking you just to get information on your company?”

“I didn’t know, I -”

“You wouldn’t let me explain!” You yelled and it was Billy’s turn to flinch at your tone. “I gave up everything I had to get that file, and now it doesn’t even matter. None of this matters anymore.”

“It matters, it -” he tried, obviously struggling for words, “- why didn’t you tell me?

“Why didn’t you believe me?” you threw back at him. ”Why is it so hard for you to trust me? Do you even trust anyone?”

“I’m sorry, I never -”

“Just - just stop. It’s too late.” You shook your head. It hurt too much and every word, every plea that left him only made the ache in your chest feel worse. “You promised me that you’d listen. I trusted you and you ruined it. You’ve ruined us.”

“No... don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.” His voice continued to crack and break, and it was almost enough to make you want to back down, but you knew you couldn’t. Not after this. He’d broken his promise to you and left you feeling more wounded and alone than you’d ever felt. “I’m sorry, let me fix this, sweetheart, please.”

“Fix this?” You almost managed to laugh through the tears. “There is no fixing this, Billy. You’ve ruined it. You broke my heart.”

“No, no... please, I -” for a moment he looked at you like those three little words were on the tip of his tongue, like he was ready to confess his love, but you didn’t want to hear it.

“Just stop. You don’t get to fight for me, Billy. Not now. Not after this.” You told him angrily. “I told you I couldn’t do this if you didn’t trust me.”

“You said you fell in love with me,” the words came out so softly that you almost didn’t hear them.

You could see the thinly masked distress on his face, the pain and misery that you’d managed to cause with that one, silly admission. You hated yourself for blurting it out like that, like you were some character in a soap opera or some shitty romance novel. And, if he’d been anyone else, you might have been angrier at his obliviousness to your feelings - of course you’d fallen in love with him, it had been so fucking obvious - but Billy had always been honest with you; he didn’t know love, didn’t understand it. All the people who were supposed to love him and abandoned him.

But not you. That was not what this was. You weren’t abandoning him, he’s pushed you to breaking point. This time it was Billy’s fault.

“What did you think was gonna happen?” You dared to ask, not even bothering to try and hide your pain anymore. “I’m not like you, Billy, I can’t just turn off my emotions whenever things get difficult.”

“You love me?” He took a step closer, the look on his face suggesting that he still thought that there was some way that he could fix things.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters to me, please, I -”

The door opened and, before he could finish that thought, you were rushing back out into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between yourself and Billy as possible. He followed after, your name dying on his lips when he saw Karen and Frank standing there.

“Sorry, Bill, she -” Frank started, looking at Karen who was now holding your phone.

“You’re both assholes,” she stated and neither man dared argue with her. Obviously, thankfully, she’d managed to figure out what was going on and where you were just from the half of a text message that you’d managed to send before Frank had confiscated your phone.

Her arm quickly pulled around your shoulders and she started to lead you towards the elevator while you tried to choke back tears. You didn’t dare look back until you were in the elevator; Billy looked heartbroken, following after you but keeping his distance.

“Please, I -” he tried.

“You’ve done enough, Billy. Just leave her alone.” Karen snapped as the doors slid shut and, a moment later, the floodgates opened and you started to sob uncontrollably, knowing that you’d lost everything.

TWO HOURS EARLIER.

Your heart was racing, thumping out a painful and uneven beat in your chest.

When Karen had told you that a private investigator had been asking around about you at The Bulletin, you’d put things together pretty quickly. You had her set up a meeting later that morning for you, hoping that you could fix things before they got out of control, even though your every instinct told you to pack a bag and get out of New York as quickly as you could.

You didn’t want to have to run, you didn’t want to leave the life that you were starting to build in the city. You didn’t want to leave the man that you loved.

Before heading to the diner to meet the PI, you stopped at the bank, withdrawing every penny that had, hoping that it would be enough, hoping that you could pay him off and fix everything before things spun out of control.

He was already waiting in the diner when you arrived, sitting in a booth by the window; a grizzled looking guy, well into his forties, who’d obviously been in the PI game for decades. As you slid into the seat opposite him, you felt your guts start to twist with a mix of anxiety and fear.

“If I’d known that this was the quickest way to get you out of hiding, I’d’ve done it weeks ago,” he stated before you’d even gotten comfortable. “I take it you wanted to meet to make me an offer?”

You took a breath, trying to steady your still-racing heart. “How much would it cost for you to go back to Florida and pretend you couldn’t find me?”

He almost seemed shocked that you knew where he was from for a second, but it was quickly hidden behind a lazy sort of smile.

“More than you’ve got,” he stated and your heart sank. “I’m a little surprised that you don’t seem surprised by any of this.”

“I’m not,” you offered, already feeling like you were wasting your time. “I knew it was only a matter of time before Scott started looking for me. Did he tell you why - did he tell you why he wants to find me?”

“No, and I didn’t bother to ask - usually don’t when the money’s this good.” He shrugged before sitting forward in his seat. “Go on then; what’d you do to this guy? I figured you either broke his heart or you took something of his. Must’ve been something big for you to spend these last few years running all up and down the country.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you voice cracked at how helpless you suddenly felt, “He tried to kill me, and that’s probably why he wants me back.”

That seemed to unsettle the PI and you decided to use it to your advantage.

“I take it you know about the accident?” You asked and the PI gave an awkward sort of nod, not knowing what point you were going to try to make. “It wasn’t an accident, he deliberately swerved the car off the road because I’d finally told him that I was leaving him.” Your voice continued to crack, threatening to break. “He pulled himself out of the car and left me there to die. I had to crawl through fire and broken glass to save myself,” you rolled up your sleeve, letting him see the scars, along with the sickening S that Scott had carved into your skin. “That’s why he wants to know where I am. He wants to finish the job.”

The PI let out a slow exhale and it was more than obvious from the way he shifted in his seat that he hadn’t been expecting that story, that he’d been lied to and used by Scott.

A trembling hand wiped at your eye, you were determined not to cry despite everything you’d just been forced to reveal.

“Look, I feel for you, but this is a big payday and -”

You reached into your purse and quickly placed the envelope on the table between you.

“That’s everything I have,” you told him, sniffing back tears, “you can have it all, just - please, give me the file and don’t tell him I’m here. I just want to be able to live my life. I don’t want to have to start over again.”

“You’d leave that rich boyfriend of yours?” He asked, like he almost didn’t believe what you were trying to tell him.

“If I had to. But I don’t want to. Scott has already stolen years of my life, please don’t help him take more. There’s just over fifteen grand in that envelope, I know it’s not a lot but -”

Your heart threatened to stop as he picked up the envelope and started thumbing through the stack of notes inside.

“This is everything you’ve got,” he stated with the certainty of someone who’d looked into your accounts. “You’re willing to give up everything just to make sure this guy doesn’t find you?”

“Yes...”

The moment that followed seemed to linger for an eternity; him looking at you like he was trying to decide what to do, while you stared back, silently praying to any god that might listen to you.

There was no holding back the relieved sob that slipped from you when he finally put the envelope in his pocket and slid the file across the table to you.

“I’ll tell him I lost track of you after the six months you spent in Chicago.”

“Thank you.

He gave something of a grumble as he started to pull his coat on and got to his feet, ready to walk away, but something made him stop. “Y’know, that boyfriend of yours isn’t as squeaky clean as you think. I’d be careful if I were you - and, maybe, you should ask him where his mother is.”

He didn’t give you the chance to ask what he meant, before he turned and left the diner, your gaze following him out the door and onto the street, watching as walked right past Frank Castle, who was holding his phone and photographing the entire exchange.

Chapter Nineteen

END NOTES : Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ok so this is probably the chapter than I've been most nervous about so I hope people enjoy the drama and angst! I know this probably wasn't what people were expecting from this chapter, but I won't say too much because I don't want to spoil anything for future chapters.

As always thanks so much for reading and sticking with this, it really does mean the world to me!

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire

@rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705 @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith @uncontainedsmiles @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lilliesofmay @billyrussoslut @readingabouthim @arwensloanebarnes @scarlettrikstr

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #cmiyc ff #billy russo imagine

145 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 1 year ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Nineteen

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R - some smut

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some smutty behaviour and vague descriptions of a panic attack. And lots of angst. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~3.9k

A/N : Five weeks after the heartbreak of the last part (sorry again for that). As always thanks so much everyone who's reading every week and all the new people, you're all awesome!

Chapter Nineteen

The next week passed as something of a blur.

After leaving Anvil, Karen had taken you back to her apartment and, after listening to you sob for an immeasurable amount of time, she led you to her guest room. And that was pretty much where you stayed for days. Your phone rang and buzzed; he tried to call hundreds of times, sent countless messages before Karen took your phone and blocked his number because, despite how much he’d hurt you, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

A couple of days later he turned up at Karen’s door - she didn’t let him in and you didn’t speak to him, you just heard them arguing while you fought back tears.

You hated him for how broken he’d managed to make you feel, how pathetic and weak you felt because you’d been stupid enough to believe that he could ever feel anything for you. But, as much as you hated him, there was a part of you that still loved him; a part of you that would always love him, a part of you that was worried about him, about how he was handling all of this.

After the first week, you managed to pull yourself together enough to go back to work, knowing that you needed to start earning back the money that you’d given to the PI. You stayed with Karen a little while longer before she told you that you could go home, that Billy understood that you didn’t want to see him and he wouldn’t bother you anymore. That didn’t stop you from changing your phone number though.

The welcome home you received from Tammy was awkward at best but, to her credit, she tried to make you feel better. And, soon enough, you fell back into your old rhythm of working all day and spending your evenings alone in front of the TV. After three weeks, it almost felt like the last few months had never happened and that Billy Russo had been nothing more than a fever dream.

Eventually, things got easier; you didn’t cry yourself to sleep every night and didn’t wake yourself reaching for his body beside you. It still hurt to think about him - you were certain that it would always hurt - but it became easier to not think about him at all.

Until it came to pick the photos that you wanted to print for your show.

You’d wanted to just cancel the whole thing, but you knew you needed whatever money you could make from it. And there he was, one of the best candid shots you had, catching him as his lips were pulling into a smile - he’d been laughing at something Karen had said during his interview all those months ago. You didn’t want to use the picture but you couldn’t not, not when it was technically one of the best photographs you’d taken recently. Karen had given you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and, somehow, you managed to not break down.

Your brother had asked you to go to Connecticut to stay with him for a while and, without Billy as a reason to say no, you found yourself agreeing. A fresh start was just what you needed, but first you needed money, and that meant using that photo, even though it broke your heart every time you looked at it.

By the time the show rolled around, it had been almost five weeks since you’d last seen Billy so, really, you weren’t expecting what came next.

Things had been going well, the first hour of the show had been good, everyone seemed to like your work and, for the first time in weeks, you felt almost good about yourself, like things were finally starting to get better.

And that’s when you saw him.

Your heart stuttered in your chest at the sight of him, standing in front of a photo of himself, his back to you. His shoulder ticked upwards and, from nowhere, you felt that pang of sorrow in your gut, remembering how his shoulder had been hurt. But there was something else about him, something that felt off. He seemed almost slouched, he looked defeated already before anything had even been said.

Karen appeared at your side, her eyes quickly finding him.

“I’m sorry, I already told him to leave,” she tried to explain, keeping her voice low, obviously trying to avoid causing a scene, “I can get Frank to come get him so you don’t have to deal with him -”

“No,” you caught yourself saying, shaking your head, “it’s - it’s fine, Karen.”

“You don’t have to talk to him,” she offered softly.

“I think I do. I need this to be over.”

She looked at you for a moment and, obviously, she still had plenty she wanted to say to you but, for whatever reason, she decided not to. She just gave a nod. “I’m here if you need me.”

You hoped that you wouldn’t need her, you hoped that the small amount of peace you’d managed to cultivate over the last five weeks would be enough to face him and finally draw a line under everything that had happened so you could both move on. Moving slowly, you approached him and stopped beside him.

He gave you a cursory glance before letting his gaze drift back to the photograph.

“You’re the only person who’s ever made me smile like that,” he told you, already sounding defeated, like he wasn’t there to fight you, or fight for you.

“Maybe you’d be able to smile more if you weren’t always expecting the worst from people,” you answered softly, finding yourself looking at the picture, at the lit-up and carefree expression on his face. It made your heart ache to know he was hurting now, even if he did mostly bring it on himself.

“Yeah, that’s what people keep telling me,” Billy sighed.

A silence fell and you both let it linger, neither seeming to know what to say to the other. It felt like there was an insurmountable chasm between the two of you, instead of just three feet. You had thought that you would have more to say to him, you thought you’d vent your anger and frustration, and tell him all the things you couldn’t quite say the last time you’d spoken but, now, you just felt empty. It felt pointless. Billy had left a hole in your life and you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from it.

“I’m sorry,” he finally muttered. “I know it doesn’t mean anything now and it doesn’t fix what I broke, but I - I shouldn’t’ve jumped to conclusions, I should’ve talked to you first.”

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

“No,” he hesitated awkwardly, finally forcing himself to look at you, “I thought you should know that I read the file...”

It should have surprised you half as much as it did - you’d left him with a file containing decades worth of information on you, of course he looked through it. But, still, the thought made you feel light headed. Even now, when he no longer meant anything to you, you didn’t want Billy to know about your past.

“I need some air,” you muttered, turning and heading towards the fire escape. Billy waited for a moment before deciding to follow.

You pushed the heavy door open and stepped out onto the metal balcony, shivering the moment the cold air hit your skin. Billy followed after, letting the door close behind him and, suddenly, everything felt so quiet. You looked down at the street below and, then, looked up at the ominous clouds - anything to avoid looking at Billy.

“I would have helped pay off the PI if you’d told me,” he finally broke the silence.

“I told you, there are things about my past that I didn’t want you to know,” you pulled your arms across your chest as you turned back to finally face him, trying to ward off the cold.

“You didn’t have to tell me about any of it. I still would have helped.” He told you with that oh-so familiar stubborn tone. “There’s nothing in that file that changes how I feel about you.”

(Feel. Present tense.)

You shook your head.

“It’s not that simple, Billy. That file doesn’t tell the whole story and even if it did, I didn’t want you to know.” As much as you might have wanted to, you couldn’t keep the frustration from slipping into your tone. But, still, you were taken aback - you’d always assumed he’d want nothing to do with you if he found out anything from your past.

“I’ll never ask. You never have to tell me, I -”

“Billy -” you tried to interrupt him, tried to stop that train of thought before he got too carried away, but it was already too late.

“Just tell me how to fix this. I’ll do anything.”

“I don’t think you can fix this.” You told him and your stomach knotted when you saw a flicker of pain on his face.

“So you won’t even let me try?”

“I think it’ll hurt too much if you do.”

Another silence fell and you watched as Billy struggled, obviously fighting with himself, trying not to say the wrong thing and ruin this. You hated seeing him like that; you’d never seen him look so uncertain and unsettled.

“You’re not the only one in pain,” he finally muttered, “what you said, about me being able to turn my emotions off, that - I can’t do that, not with you. Not with us. Not having you in my life hurts too much; I can’t sleep, can’t eat. I keep playing that moment over and over, wishing I’d done things differently...”

“I don’t want to make you feel like that but -”

“I know I fucked up, I know I promised you that I wouldn’t but -” for a second he looked like he was really struggling to get his thoughts in order and force the words from his lips, “- but you don’t know about my past and the shit I’ve been through either. It’s hard for me to trust people.”

You realised that he was right; you didn’t know much about his past, not really, and you’d never really asked. Beyond the snippets that he’d told you about his childhood and his mother, and what little you knew about his relationship with Krista, you never really tried to find out anything about him. Honestly, you’d always just assumed that he was like you, that he wanted to keep his past in the past.

But, looking at him now, maybe that wasn’t the case.

“Maybe that’s why this would never work,” you sighed.

“Don’t say that,” his eyes found yours and he looked at you like it was the only thing he was certain of, “just because this isn’t easy doesn’t mean we should just give up.”

“You did give up, you thought I -”

“I was wrong, and I’m so fucking sorry, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop fighting for you.” He dared to take a step closer to you.

The way he was looking at you caused a shiver to run up your spine. You could see the desperation in his eyes and, a part of you, still wanted nothing more than to reach for him, to just give into the moment. But you had too much self-respect for that. (Or maybe it was fear, maybe you were just scared of taking him back and him hurting you again?)

“You said you loved me,” his voice turned softer and the space between you seemed to shrink even more.

“I shouldn’t have told you like that.”

“You didn’t mean it?” His voice threatened to break.

It would be easy to lie, to say you hadn’t meant a word, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him like that. You stayed silent for a few seconds, letting the question and your indecision hang in the air between you.

“Of course I meant it, I just - I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that,” you sighed heavily, “I was hurting and I said it because I wanted to hurt you back.”

“It did hurt,” he confessed quietly, “but it hurts more knowing that you feel like that and don’t even want to see me.”

“Billy -” you tried, but there were no words. There was nothing that you could tell him to change any of it or make either of you feel better, it felt too late for any of that.

“I can’t let this be over,” he told you, and the silence that followed felt deafening. The air between you seemed to crack with the sort of tension that you wanted nothing more than to ignore and push aside. Despite everything you’d told him, something inside you wanted him to fight for you, wanted him to prove you wrong and show you that he could love you despite what he now thought he knew about your past.

When you didn’t immediately tell him no, when you didn’t tell him that things were over, you allowed him hope that prompted him to move.

Before you knew what he was doing, Billy had cleared the small distance between you, kissing you so suddenly that all you could think to do was respond. You got caught up in the moment, fingers tugging at his hair, pulling him against you. It felt so good, so right to be in his arms again, that you barely noticed him lifting you, sitting you on the cold railing. Your legs parted instinctively, letting him press closer still as the kiss turned hungry and desperate, and you could feel how the moment was already affecting him.

You didn’t even realise that he’d undone his zipper until you felt his cold fingers slide beneath your dress and up your thighs, pulling your panties to the side. Every shred of common sense you possessed told you to stop, to tell Billy to stop, but when you felt his cock start to nudge its way inside you, all you could do was moan against his lips and grip his shoulders as he filled you inch by inch.

Of course, you knew it was wrong to give him any hope that he could repair your relationship - just one more inch, you told yourself, then you’d tell him to stop - but it wasn’t long until every throbbing inch of him was buried inside you. And it felt good. It felt better than it should. Even the ache of your walls stretching to accommodate him after so long without him felt amazing. You’d missed the feeling almost as much as you’d missed him.

“Billy -” you uttered breathlessly against his lips, not getting the chance to say much more before his tongue slipped between your lips again. You let him kiss you, let him slowly draw back his hips before pitching forwards again and drawing another moan from you, your walls slickening around him, coating his cock and letting him move with ease. “Billy,” you tried again, tugging his hair, trying to make him look at you while your pussy continued to tremble as he moved, “Billy, we can’t -”

“Yes we can,” he kept moving, the wet heat of your body betraying you. Your mind wanted to say no, but your body and the way it moved against him said yes. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

He kissed you again and, this time, it was almost enough to break your resolve, the steady thrust of his hips filling you with his cock so deeply that you almost lost your mind. Moaning against his lips, your back arched, legs wrapping around his hips as you took him deeper. Yes, you wanted to moan, fuck me harder.

“Billy, stop -” you managed to gasp, finally coming to your senses.

Billy stopped immediately and you felt his body tense beneath your hands. He didn’t pull out or put you down but, similarly, you didn’t release your hold on him. You could still feel him throbbing, just as unfulfilled as you were.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he repeated, his forehead pressed against yours, lips lingering so close that every word he spoke caused them to brush against yours. “Tell me you haven’t missed me.”

Of course he wanted to try and talk while he was still inside you and all you could think about was how you were practically dripping all over his cock. It wasn’t fair - it almost made you want him to finish before having the difficult conversation with you, but you knew that if he came inside you, or if he made you come, you’d never be able to turn him away.

“Of course I missed you, Billy,” you sighed, “but you hurt me, and fucking you isn’t going to fix that.”

“Then tell me what is,” he asked in an anguished tone that you’d never heard from him before.

“Put me down.”

Finally, he relented, pulling out and lowering you back to the ground, leaving your body aching and empty, unfulfilled and wanting. He turned from you to fix his clothes and you did the same, waiting for him to turn back, but the moment never came.

“You said you loved me,” his awkward and broken tone said it all, betraying his agony, and your heart sank, knowing that you’d just let things become a hundred times worse.

“I do, but what you did was -”

“You think I don’t know how fucked up it was?” His breath caught uncomfortably and you saw him shudder as his fingers ran through his hair. There was shame in his voice as he continued; “when Frank told me he caught you paying the PI, I felt like I was dying, it hurt so much. I thought you were -”

Another ragged breath escaped him and his hands moved to grip the railing.

“I told you that I couldn’t do this if you didn’t trust me,” you told him, trying to fill the awkward silence.

“I know and I’m so sorry,” his voice turned strained, like he was struggling to speak, and not just because of how upset he was.

You’d seen this before, that night in his bedroom. Panic, anxiety; he was struggling. But, as much as you wanted to reach for him, to hold him until it passed, you knew he wouldn’t want that and that it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

All you knew for certain was that you couldn’t keep doing this.

“Tomorrow at noon, meet me at the coffee shop you took me to the day we met,” you offered as calmly as you could manage. “We can talk then. I can’t promise that things will go back to how they were, but we can at least talk, okay?”

“Really?” He still kept his back to you.

“Really,” you told him, knowing you needed to leave before you dared to reach for him. “I need to go back inside, are you gonna be alright?”

“I’m fine,” he forced the words in one shuddered breath.

“You’re not fine, Billy. And, I think maybe that’s something we need to talk about tomorrow too.” He didn’t answer but you heard him force another breath. “Just... go home and take care of yourself, okay?”

Billy grumbled something that you didn’t quite catch, but you knew you couldn’t stay any longer; for his good and your own. But, still, against your better judgement, you reached for him, softly placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. For a split-second, you were sure that you felt him relax, but the moment you let go, that awkward tension filled his body again.

Between that moment and pulling open the door, you changed your mind about leaving him at least a hundred times, hating leaving him like that, not knowing how long the episode would take to pass or if it would pass at all. But Billy wasn’t the only one who was hurting, and all the pain and emptiness that you’d spent weeks trying to overcome came flooding back, leaving you feeling more broken and miserable than ever.

The door closed behind you, separating you and Billy, and leaving you feeling just as alone as you’d felt after leaving Anvil that day. You froze, torn between going back to Billy and walking away, filled with an aching and a longing that only he could cause, and stuck with a terrible realisation; you still loved him, you were still in love with him, and no amount of pain or heartbreak would ever change that.

“Are you alright?” You didn’t notice Karen at your side until she spoke and you struggled to think of a way to answer her. Her eyes drifted to the door. “Is he out there? What did he say to you? Did he upset you? Do you want me to -”

“No,” you finally managed to force the word, “it’s fine he just - he needs a minute and then he’s gonna leave.”

As shaken as you were by everything that had happened, you didn’t want Karen marching onto the fire escape and making Billy feel worse.

“What did he say to you?” She asked, placing a hand on your elbow and slowly leading you away from the door and towards the bathroom so you could pull yourself together in private.

“He said he wants to fix things and that he’s sorry.”

“Did you tell him about Connecticut?” She asked as the bathroom door swung closed behind you both.

You let out a sigh, leaning against the sink and looking at yourself in the mirror for a moment. It hadn’t even crossed your mind to tell him that you were planning to leave New York and, once Karen had mentioned it, you felt sick. You’d agreed to meet him for coffee tomorrow, you’d given him a reason to hope, and that had been needlessly cruel of you.

“No, I didn’t...” you reluctantly admitted.

“You need to tell him,” Karen told you with an enviable certainty, “I know he hurt you, but it’s not fair to let him think he has a chance to fix things when you’re leaving.”

“I know, I just...” you shook your head, “what if I’m wrong about him? What if leaving is the wrong thing to do?”

“Only you can decide that. Billy is - he’s complicated and I don’t think that’s ever going to change. I can’t tell you what to do, but I know you shouldn’t stay unless you’re certain.”

“You’re right,” though your tone gave away how much you hated it, “I can’t keep expecting him to change for me.” You took a few deep breaths and returned your attention to the mirror, taking a moment to fix your hair. “I guess I should get back out there and try to sell some pictures.”

“Atta girl,” Karen smiled, “you get back to selling and I’ll go see what’s left behind the bar for us.”

When you stepped out of the bathroom, your eyes moved the fire exit for a second, wondering if he was still out there, but you quickly pushed the thought away; you’d see him tomorrow and, this time, you’d tell him that you were leaving and that it was over between you. The thought made your chest ache, but that ache was bearable, unlike the pain he’d caused you.

Forcing a smile to your lips, you started doing the rounds, talking to anyone and everyone who wanted to know about your work, distracting yourself from thoughts of Billy and tomorrow.

Chapter Twenty

END NOTES : I can't say anything because I don't want to spoil anything that's going to happen. But, if anyone is interested, this fic is now about 80k long and there's only (maybe) five chapters left (which is to say I have five planned but whether or not some of those will need breaking up into smaller chapters idk).

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this part and that it caused less emotional whiplash than the last one (sorry again for that). Thanks for reading, and thanks as always for the likes, comments and reblogs. And, if you're new to this story, hello and thanks for giving it a look! <3

TAG LIST

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #cmiyc ff #billy russo imagine

143 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 1 year ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twelve

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R-ish

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This chapter contains vague allusions to physical abuse/abusive past relationship. Some sex mentions. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~3.2k

A/N : This is set about a week after the last chapter. It's mostly angst and a little bit more about readers past. Billy kinda fucks up in this one.

CHAPTER TWELVE

It felt strange to long for someone you hardly knew, to miss having him close when you’d only been intimate for a couple of weeks. But, without Billy, you felt a strange sort of loneliness that should have terrified you, the sort of yearning you’d completely given up on before you’d let him force his way into your life.

Days had continued to tick by with nothing but text messages and phone calls passing between you, leaving you longing to feel his arms around you again. You tried everything to push the feelings away; reading, catching up with old TV shows, anything that didn’t make you think of him.

But, the moment he told you that he’d be working from home and that you could stay over, you agreed, biking across Manhattan as soon as you finished your day.

He was waiting for you the moment the elevator doors slid open, kissing you and tugging off your clothes as he pressed you back against the wall. He fucked you like it had been six years and not six days since you’d last seen him, leaving you a trembling mess and reminding you just what you’d been missing out on all week.

Eventually, once he managed to finally put you down and take his hands off you, you found yourself on his sofa, eating Chinese take out while he sat with his laptop and tried to get some work done. Now and then, he’d shoot you an apologetic look - obviously, it wasn’t how he’d wanted the evening to go, but you were perfectly happy where you were, enjoying the food and just being near him. You distracted yourself by trying to finish reading the trashy romance novel you’d brought on the Kindle app on your phone.

When you needed a drink, you stood, heading for the kitchen, trying not to disturb Billy. You didn’t think twice about leaving your phone on the sofa, unlocked and on the page you were in the middle of reading - your first mistake of the evening.

“Her fingers sizzled a path to my cock,” his words caught you by surprise, and so did the laugh that followed, “sweetheart, if you’d wanted something to read, I could’ve found you a much better book than this horny trash.”

You turned back to him, feigning indignation; “I’ll have you know that horny trash is the only thing that’s been getting me through the last few days.”

He put down his laptop on the coffee table and slowly got to his feet, your phone still in his hand.

“You think a smutty book is a good substitute for me?” His dark eyes fixed on you, looking at you like he was thinking of all the things he wanted to do to you. You stepped away from the kitchen, back towards him, waiting for him to clear the distance between you and take what he wanted. “Does this stuff really get you going? Does it get you wet?”

You bit your lower lip, trying to to stop your lips from pulling into a smirk, but it was impossible.

“Have you spent this whole week with your fingers between your legs reading this?” Billy asked, stepping closer still. You bit down on your lip even harder, your cheeks starting to heat, before you managed to shake your head. “No?”

“Not my fingers,” you admitted softly, “and it wasn’t the book I was thinking about...”

“Not your fingers?” Your head shook again and he took a step closer. You might as well have been naked with the way he was looking at you, his eyes burning with desire. “Then what were you using while you were thinking about me?”

“My vibrator,” not sure why admitting to owning a sex toy to someone like Billy felt so scandalous.

“Fuck, sweetheart, if I’d known you’d been missing me so much I would’ve spent the last hour inside you, reminding you why nothing but me is ever gonna satisfy your sweet little pussy,” his voice turned low, uncontrolled. “Guess I’m gonna have to make up for lost time now...”

Your eyes dropped, noticing the way his sweatpants were already starting to tent, relieved that the conversation was getting to him just as much as it was you.

“What about you?” You dare to ask.

“What about me?”

“How much did you miss me?”

“You mean did I jerk off thinking about you?” He asked and you nodded. “Every night with those red lace panties you gave me.”

You breath caught at the admission and the look on his face, and you found yourself trying to picture it. Staring, you silently willed him to clear the distance between you and give you both what you clearly wanted. But Billy didn’t move, he seemed more interested in the moment you were sharing and wanted to see how far he could push it.

“I get hard just thinking about you, sweetheart,” he continued to confess, “I can’t stop thinking about you on your knees, sucking my cock.”

You made a show of licking your lips, despite the embarrassment you were enjoying watching him slowly lose control. He wanted you to break first, but you weren’t going to make it easy for him. “Yeah? You liked that?”

“You know I did,” he all but growled, knowing what you were trying to do to him. “You liked it too, didn’t you? You were so fucking wet when I got you home...”

You nodded almost shyly. As much as you wanted to carry on, you weren’t like Billy, dirty talk didn’t come easily to you, but you still managed; “want me to do it again, right now?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I want you to get on your knees and -”

But then your phone started to ring in his hand and the game quickly came to an end. You watched as he looked at the screen, the smile vanishing from his lips.

“Who’s Sam?” He asked with an unexpected sharpness that caused your stomach to knot.

“Don’t answer it,” you begged quickly, suddenly. With your hand outstretched you moved towards him, needing him to give you your phone back. But Billy wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the name on the screen and the picture that went with it.

The ringing soon stopped, but Billy didn’t give your phone back. Instead he started swiping at the screen, obviously looking for something. Your stomach dropped, realising that your phone was still unlocked and he had access to everything on there.

“Billy, give me my phone back, it’s not -” you tried to talk around the lump that had lodged itself in your throat.

“Call me back,” he started to read from your phone, obviously scrolling through the dozens of unanswered text messages Sam had sent, “we need to talk. I love you but I’m sick of this shit. Don’t make me come get you. Talk to me. We had a deal.”

“It’s not what you think,” you tried again, reaching for your phone. Billy stepped back, keeping hold of your phone.

“And what do you think I think?” He asked, his tone enough to make you flinch. “‘cause I think forty-seven missed calls today, and fifty-two yesterday means someone really wants to talk to you.”

“It’s not like that -”

“Oh, isn’t it? So you get guys telling you that they love you all the time, calling you non-stop and begging you to talk to them?” It almost felt like he was mocking you, like he thought you were an idiot for even trying to convince that there was nothing going on.

“Billy, please, just listen to me...”

If he heard you, he didn’t seem to care. “Is this what does it for you? Is this why you finally said yes to me? Did I chase you enough, make you feel special? You just like the attention?”

“Stop it, just -” you raised your voice, desperate to make him listen, to make him hear you out.

“Is this what you want? You want me to lose my mind over you? Will you start ignoring my calls when you’re done with me?” Something almost frantic started to slip into his tone.

“No, Billy, I -”

It was clear to see that he was spiralling out of control, that the thought of you with another man made him lose his mind. And it hurt - it hurt that he wouldn’t listen to you, that he thought you’d do anything to hurt him like that.

“If I obsess over you enough, do I get my initials carved on your body somewhere? Will you let me pick where?”

You stepped backwards, an uncomfortable breath catching in your throat. It only took Billy a second to realise his mistake. There was no confusing the sudden look of terror on your face or the way that your whole body tensed as you started to back away from him. Your eyes stayed fixed on him, wide and afraid, your lungs burning as they struggled to draw breath.

Billy seemed frozen as the pieces fell into place and he finally understood; you hadn’t carved the S into your arm. Someone else had, against your will.

And, now, despite everything about him that made you feel safe, despite every time you’d told yourself that he wouldn’t hurt you, you were overcome with fear.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t -” you flinched as he took a step, “- I didn’t mean that. I’d never -”

“Please stop,” you uttered quietly, voice breaking as you blinked back tears. You didn’t want to talk about it, not now, not ever.

“I didn’t know, you didn’t tell me - why didn’t you tell me?” A panicked anguish quickly filled his voice and, at any other time, you might have felt for him, but all you could do was continue to shrink away from him. “Tell me who did it - tell me, I’ll fucking kill him.”

The spike of anger in his voice did nothing to settle your frayed nerves. You knew it wasn’t aimed at you, but you had no doubt in that moment that Billy was capable of murder, and that he’d kill anyone who’d hurt you. But you didn’t want Billy involved, you didn’t want him to know about any of your scars or where they had come from.

“Was it this guy? This Sam?” He held up your phone, his knuckles turning white as he dared to step closer. Even though his anger wasn’t directed at you anymore, it still scared you.

You shook your head. “Sam’s my brother.”

Another secret spilled, another thing you hadn’t wanted him to know.

“You have a brother? I thought you said -”

You moved suddenly, before Billy could reach you - he was between you and the elevator, so leaving wasn’t an option, but you needed space, you needed to be able to breathe. He called your name and you heard him following after you as you ducked into his bedroom and headed for the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

The moment the door was shut, you sank to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest.

“I’m sorry, I -” you could hear him on the other side of the door, but he didn’t rattle the handle, didn’t knock or try to get to you. From the broken tone of his voice, you knew that he was upset and, as much as you might have hated that at any other time, Billy’s upset was not your priority. “I’m a fucking idiot, I’m sorry. I - I never meant -”

You took a long breath, counting back from ten, trying to remember any of the coping mechanisms you’d worked on in therapy so many years ago. Despite the tears in the corners of your eyes, the last thing you wanted was to cry - you’d cried too many tears over the scars on your arms over the years and you weren’t going to shed any more. You were stronger than that, you’d spent years becoming stronger than that.

“Please, talk to me?”

You still didn’t answer. You couldn’t, it felt like you could hardly breathe.

He was pacing, you could hear it through the door. “I’d never hurt you - you know I’d never hurt you, right? I couldn’t, I -”

Still, you said nothing. A moment later there was a loud thud and you heard his footsteps moving away from the door and out of the bedroom.

As you sat, you tried to deconstruct everything that had happened, why it had upset you and whether it was reasonable to be upset about it; Billy going through your phone without permission (yeah, it was reasonable to be upset at that), him getting upset about Sam (yes and no, you probably could have handled that a little better), and the comment about that scar (yes but, again, he hadn’t known the full story).

But, the thing that worried you, the thing that had you panicked, was just how quickly it had escalated and how he hadn’t even tried to hear your side of things. Did you think that he could hurt you? No. But whether that was you being stupid and naive, you didn’t know. All you really knew was that something inside you felt safe with Billy, something inside you told you that he’d never hurt you, and perhaps that was the best place to start.

It took twenty minutes before you worked up the courage to stand and another five before you could bring yourself to open the bathroom door. Billy was nowhere to be seen but, to your surprise, he’d left your phone on the floor in front of the bathroom door.

You grabbed your bag from the foot of the bed and carried it with you, but you didn’t head for the elevator. You weren’t going to run away.

Billy was standing by the windows, looking out at the view, looking every bit as lost and alone as you felt.

“We - we should talk,” you said softly, just to draw his attention.

He turned, but he didn’t move towards you. He kept his distance, as if he didn’t trust himself anymore. When he caught sight of the bag in your hand, Billy let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding like he knew he’d already lost.

“I know you are.”

“I didn’t mean -”

“Yes you did, Billy.” It wasn’t your intention to hurt him but there was no missing the flicker of pain on his face. He’d been upset, but he’d meant every word that he’d said to you, and you needed him to acknowledge that. “But what hurts is that you saw those messages and just assumed that I’d do that to you.”

“I know, I shouldn’t’ve, I just...” you could see the struggle on his face as he tried to find the words, tried to find a way to explain something that you weren’t even sure he could explain. You were starting to think it was just how he was wired - but that didn’t mean you had to accept it. “This isn’t easy for me.”

“Which part? Because it’s not exactly a walk in the park for me either.”

“I don’t do this,” which didn’t make it any clearer, but the frustration in his voice was unmissable.

“There is no this, Billy. You didn’t want this to be a relationship. We’re just - I don’t know, us.”

“Yeah, just us.”

There was something in the way he said it that had your heart sinking and it took a moment for the penny to finally drop.

“You wanna fuck other women, is that it?” And suddenly it all seemed pointless. “Of course you do, why wouldn’t you? Why would I ever think you might settle for me?” Because, of course, a man like Billy wouldn’t settle for you, scars and all.

You started to move towards the elevator, telling yourself that, this time, it wasn’t running away; you’d tried to talk to him, tried to figure it out, and leaving was the only option that remained. As much as it hurt, you couldn’t stay knowing that he’d never be satisfied with you, and that he clearly didn’t feel a fraction of what you felt when you were with him. (It was your own fault, you shouldn’t have let yourself feel anything at all for a man like Billy, you’d known from the start that it would end badly.)

“Stop -” he suddenly started to move towards you, “- I don’t want to fuck anyone else, that’s not what I meant. And I’m not settling, you’re the only one I want.” He forced the words out in an angry and uncomfortable admission - he didn’t even manage to look like he believed it himself.

“I’d be flattered if you didn’t sound like it bothered you so fucking much.” You spat back, just as angry.

“Of course it bothers me. I don’t know how to not fuck this up. I don’t know how to not make you leave me.”

“My suggestion would be doing anything but this.” You reached the elevator doors, but you didn’t push the call button - you couldn’t bring yourself to end things, not while he was still talking.

“So, that’s it - we’re back to this?”

“Back to what?”

“You, pushing me away, not talking to me.”

“I can’t do this if you don’t trust me.” You told him.

“I’m trying, but you don’t trust me either, do you?”

You wanted to answer immediately, to tell him of course you trusted him, but it wasn’t that simple. He was right, you didn’t trust him, not completely - you didn’t trust anyone completely. You couldn't, you’d been hurt too many times before. And maybe Billy had been too.

“Why don’t you do this - why don’t you want a relationship?” You dared to ask and Billy looked away almost as if he was ashamed.

“Because everyone leaves eventually? Because what I can offer always stops being enough... I don’t know.” He sounded resigned to it, like there really was no other way that he saw things panning out.

“And you think that’d happen with us? That I’d just leave you?”

He looked at you for a second before letting his gaze drop again. “You’re doing it right now.”

“That isn’t fair. You know why I’m leaving.” You wanted to be firm, wanted him to know that you were leaving because of his actions, not because of who he was but, instead, the words came out quiet, soft.

Billy didn’t answer, he looked defeated, like he’d given up. He didn’t talk again until you’d hit the call button and the elevator doors slid open.

“So, we’re done then?”

Were you? You hesitated, hating how quickly everything had fallen apart - how easily you’d both let it fall apart. Maybe it was just how things were meant to be; maybe neither of you were capable of sustaining whatever this was. But -

“No - I don’t know,” was the most honest answer you could give. “I just - I need some time, Billy. Can you give me that?”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “A few days maybe?”

“Okay,” he shrugged in return, looking like he’d already given up.

By the time you’d stepped into the elevator and hit the button, he’d already turned away from you. Billy didn’t say a word as the doors shut and you left him all alone. Somehow, you managed not to break down and cry until you’d made it back across the city and into the comfort of your own bed.

Chapter Thirteen

A/N : Well... I originally wanted to try and time things so I could have nice chapters come out over the holidays, but then this happened. Sorry! It really wasn't my intention to end the year on a downer, but don't worry, the next part is pretty much finished and will be up the same time next week!!

Anyway, I hope you're all doing well and, as always I really do appreciate all the love you've shown this series!!!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it hasn't been working for some people so I've tried to remove and add people again to see if that help but, other than that, I think it's just tumblr being lame?)

TAG LIST

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

159 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 1 year ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Six

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R - some lots of smutty content

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Billy likes a bit of dirty talk during sex. It's pretty run of the mill, though there's some minor discomfort for reader during. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~5.1k

A/N : This chapter picks up straight after the end of the last one. It got a little out of hand but this is exactly what I meant when I said this was going to veer recklessly between fluff and smut. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and thanks for all the comments, likes and reblogs on previous chapters!! My posts don't seem to be showing in the tags anymore and I don't know how to fix it.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE

Chapter Six

For the longest time, you were content to stay exactly where you were; your hands on his shoulders while his arms remained around your waist, holding you safely in place while the limo made its way through the New York traffic. His dark eyes stayed fixed on yours, barely blinking, like he was afraid you might disappear if he took his eyes off you even for a moment.

As the limo took a corner, he pulled you closer, holding you tighter against him, letting you feel the heat of his body against yours. The hands on his shoulder drifted to his neck, your thumbs running across his jaw through his stubble, still holding his gaze. You pressed closer still, feeling the now-familiar press of his erection between your thighs.

His hand trailed up your back to your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you in for a kiss. It wasn’t long before your hips were moving against his, muted moans muffled by his lips. It went on and on, and you were happy to lose yourself in him, but you both came to realise that you needed more.

Eventually, Billy broke the kiss, breathless and staring at you like he was barely holding himself together, like he was losing his mind over you. You broke his gaze when you felt his hand on your thigh, slowly trailing upwards. He stopped for a moment, his thumb gently running over a faint scar, but he didn't ask, he didn't make you explain where the mark had come from before carrying on. Your cheeks started to warm and you found yourself glancing over your shoulder at the privacy screen, the only thing separating the two of you from the driver.

“He can’t hear us, you can be as loud as you want,” Billy smirked, looking at you in a way that felt dangerous, like he was prepared to do anything to you, for you.

You bit your lip as his fingers crept higher, finally reaching the hem of your black lace panties - panties that were, by that point in the evening, embarrassingly soaked. Was the divide really soundproof? Did you really care?

“Then you should probably do something to make me loud,” you challenged with only a hint of nerves, knowing it was too late to try and stop it.

“I thought you’d never ask,” that smirk still on his lips as his fingers finally moved to touch you through the wet fabric.

His touch was slow, teasing at first, fingertips tracing your folds through your panties until a moan spilled from your lips. With that first victory under his belt, his touch became more insistent, finding your clit and starting to trace circles around it. You hadn’t thought it was possible, but you got wetter with every moment that passed, your arousal climbing through the roof.

“Billy,” you moaned, giving him his second little victory.

Your breath caught the moment his fingers slipped into your panties, biting back another moan, trying not to lose another point so soon. Billy’s gaze seemed to darken when he realised what you were trying to do, how you were trying to deny him. He ran his digits through your arousal, spreading it from your slit, coating his fingers in it, before turning his attention back to your clit.

His smirk disappeared, replaced by something more serious, something hungry.

“Oh God, Billy...” you moaned again, this time louder as he teased his fingers over your swollen clit. He kept going, expertly moving his fingers, strumming that bundle of nerves like you were an instrument only he knew how to play. Another moan slipped out and you soon abandoned your game; Billy had won, you couldn’t keep quiet when he was touching you.

You got louder with every sound that left you, letting Billy know that you were defeated. But, still, he wanted more from you. That hungry look on his face was far from satisfied.

His fingers ventured lower again, the tip of his index finger teasing your wet opening, slipping inside slowly before pulling out again. You keened every time he almost gave you what you wanted, your hips moving, trying to show him what you needed.

“Please -” you didn’t even realise that the word had come from you, but it did something to Billy. His eyes sparked with want and need, but he continued to toy with you, until; “Billy, please…”

Slowly, finally, his finger slid into your trembling pussy right down to the knuckle.

“Is this what you want, sweetheart?” He asked and your body answered for you, clenching and fluttering around his finger as it started to stroke into you. The fingers in your hair curled tighter and you couldn’t decide if Billy was trying to hold on to you or keep himself anchored. The hunger in him only seemed to grow as you moaned and writhed against his touch, and you weren’t sure which one of you was going to break first.

“Such a needy little pussy,” he muttered and all you could offer him was another moan. A second finger joined the first and you cried out, clumsily rocking your hips against his hand while your inner walls tightened. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna enjoy stretching you with my cock…”

Your cheeks started to burn; you weren’t used to dirty talk, but hearing those words from Billy made you crave more. You bit your lip, too embarrassed to tell him that you were going to enjoy that too. Billy seemed to notice your embarrassment and he soon turned it into his next game. His fingers fucked you faster, bending and scissoring inside you, trying to prepare you for what was coming, searching for -

“Fuck!” You cried out as his fingers hit just the right spot, causing your back to arch and your thighs to tremble.

“Did that feel good?” You didn’t answer, his fingers continued to stroke into your body, but it didn’t feel like enough anymore. “If you don’t tell me, I won’t do it again.”

He wanted you to admit it, wanted you to beg and, as much as you didn’t want to, as much as you told yourself you were better than that, you knew that you weren’t. You’d never wanted anything more than you wanted him. He made you feel desperate, needy, and it should have worried you how much power you'd let him have over you.

“Yes,” you admitted, and he rewarded you by pressing his thumb to your clit.

“Do you want me to make you come with my fingers?” The smirk was back; he knew that you were his, that he was in complete control.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Say it for me, sweetheart.”

“Make me come with - with your fingers, Billy.” As embarrassed as you might have felt, Billy didn’t give you time to feel anything except his fingers, fucking you harder and faster, hitting that spot inside you, over and over. Your hands found his hair, fingers twisting and pulling as his fingers drove you insane.

It took less than a minute before your back was arching and your whole body was shaking. His fingers kept their pace, dragging out your orgasm for as long as he could, while his other hand continued to hold you tight.

When his hand finally pulled back, you caught an expectant and somewhat uncomfortable look on his face.

“What?” Had you done something wrong?

“You okay? Last time you... you kinda panicked.” he explained with a gentle smile, reminding you of the party.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promised you the night, Billy.” And, to prove your point, your hands started to slip down his body, over his shirt, finding their way to his pants. You heard his breath catch as you quickly dealt with his belt and the fastenings.

“Are you sure?” You didn’t stop to answer him, too busy slipping your hand into his boxers to free his cock.

“I want you, Billy,” you told him, your eyes dropping between your bodies, finally getting a good look at his cock.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can wait until I get you home.”

You might have laughed at his desperation if your attention wasn’t fixed on his cock; like every other inch of Billy, it was perfect. Long, thick, and impossibly hard in your hand, the tip already glistening. And it was all for you. You started to stroke him slowly while Billy fumbled in his jacket for a condom and, soon enough, he was knocking your hand away so he could sheath himself.

Without warning, he tore your panties and balled the tattered remains into his pocket, leaving you perfectly exposed to him. Billy took hold of himself, teasing the tip of his cock against your slit, while you gripped his shoulders and lifted yourself over him. You expected him to drive into you but, instead, he waited; he was going to let you set the pace, you realised. After a few deep breaths, you slowly started to sink down, letting out a grunt of discomfort as the crown of his cock nudged its way inside of you. Despite his preparation and how wet you were, you ached as he stretched you, so much so that you needed to stop after you’d taken the first couple of inches.

“Fuck, Billy, you’re so big…” You hated yourself the moment it left your lips; the most ridiculous and cliche thing you could have said. Your gaze dropped between your bodies to where you were now impaled on his cock, second guessing whether or not you could continue.

“Don’t stop,” he told you softly, his hand cupping your cheek, forcing you to look at him, “it’ll feel so good in a minute, I promise. Just keep your eyes on me, okay?”

His words said one thing, but his grip in your hair and the spark in his eyes said another. He was fighting himself; he wanted to take control, wanted to fuck you hard. But he didn’t, he waited for you to move, slowly sinking down onto him, every hard inch filling you in a way that made you feel like you’d never been fucked before. You kept your eyes on his, watching every flash of pleasure as you took more and more of him. And, despite the ache, the feeling was intoxicating. Panting for breath, you buried your face against his shoulder, needing a moment.

“You feel so fucking good,” Billy moaned in your ear, “so tight, so fucking perfect, just like I thought you’d be.” His fingers tugged your hair, urging you to lift your head again. “Fuck me, sweetheart.”

His hand gripped your hips through your gown, urging you to move. The ache started to subside once you did and it wasn’t long before you were enjoying how it felt. Billy used his hands to guide your movements but he didn’t push for more than you wanted to give. But you wanted to please him, make him feel how you felt. You moved faster, clumsily riding him, moaning his name every time you sank down, and it wasn’t long until you felt your climax starting to build. A gasp slipped out as his fingers found your clit again and mercilessly pushed you over the edge.

You cried out as you came, so loud that there was no way the driver couldn’t hear you. Your body shook so fiercely that you barely noticed Billy moving you, laying you back on the seat so he could continue at his own pace. His arm hooked beneath your knee, pulling it up so he could fuck you deeper. Once he was in charge things turned faster, harder, giving you the full Billy Russo Experience (trademark definitely pending). He fucked you like you belonged to him and all you could do was cry out for him, moaning his name, over and over.

He grunted something that sounded a lot like ‘mine’ against your neck, nipping and sucking the column of your throat in a way that you knew would leave a mark if he carried on. Panicked fingers quickly pulled his hair, not wanting to be branded by him, pulling his lips from your neck and leading them towards your own. Billy was happy to kiss you, to slip his tongue between your lips and dominate you in another way. It didn’t take much to make you come again, and the feeling of your walls convulsing around him was more than enough to finish Billy off.

The twitch of his cock inside you was dulled by the condom, but the groan he let out was more than enough to let you know that he was done.

“Holy shit,” he muttered softly, trying to catch his breath.

Billy didn’t move straight away, leaving you trembling beneath him, his cock still buried inside you as everything started to slow down again, his face hidden against your neck. Finally, he sat back up, fingers trying to tame the mess you’d made of his hair and rolling his shoulder like he might have pulled something. You stayed where you were for a moment, suddenly feeling so cold and empty without his touch. Taking a deep breath, you awkwardly sat back up, smoothing out your dress and pulling it back down to cover your legs. Billy, similarly, had dumped the condom and sorted out his own clothes.

Your eyes drifted to the window, watching the outside world speed by. In the silence you found yourself thinking about what you’d just done - what you were going to do next. How were you going to go back to how things were after tonight? How would you ever get over this? The quiet between you dragged on for a few minutes before Billy reached for your hand and pulled your attention back to him.

“You okay?” he asked softly, leaving some space between you while he tried to figure out what you needed from him.

All you could do was nod, and that seemed to worry him more.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?” He squeezed your hand.

“I’m just trying not to overthink this.” You admitted. Billy nodded before slowly moving towards you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him and holding you tight. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Tonight is whatever you want it to be, okay?”

That was the problem, you weren’t sure what you wanted the night to be, especially now that you’d had mind blowing sex with him.

“Can you just hold me like this? Just for a little while?” You asked softly, letting your own arm move across his waist.

“Of course,” Billy answered just as softly, tenderly pressing his lips to your brow.

His other hand pulled his phone from his pocket, but you couldn’t see what he was doing. Once he was done, the phone was slipped back into his pocket and his hand moved to gently stroke your hair.

“You look really beautiful tonight,” he offered softly, making you smile.

“I’m a sure thing, Billy,” you laughed softly, “you don’t have to keep flirting with me.”

“I’m just being honest,” turning a little and pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ve been losing my fucking mind all night just looking at you.” You stayed quiet, not sure what you were supposed to say to any of that.

Billy let the silence hang between you for a few minutes, holding you tight.

“I think this is my favourite part of the night so far,” he admitted. “This is why you. You let me have moments like this. When I’m with you I feel like there’s no expectations, no pressure, like you don’t want me to be anything....”

“I like this too,” you answered, though you didn’t have the heart to remind him that this wasn’t going to last, that, come morning, it would all be over.

You let your eyes close, holding Billy a little tighter, enjoying the moment while it lasted. It wasn’t much longer before the limo was pulling to a stop outside of his building and, when the driver opened the door for you, you were pretty certain he knew exactly what the pair of you had been up to back there, but he didn’t seem to care, especially not after Billy had given him his tip for the evening.

He took your hand, an eagerness in his step as he led you into his apartment building, a grin on his lips that you couldn’t quite decipher - was he really that eager to fuck you again? The building's doorman welcomed Billy home.

“This just arrived for you, Mr Russo,” the doorman approached and you burst out laughing at the sight of the pizza box in his hands.

“Thanks, Marvin.” Trying to hold back his own laughter as he took the box and tipped the doorman.

Billy didn’t waste any more time, pulling you towards the elevator and putting a key into the control panel and hitting the button for the top floor - because, of course, Billy Russo had a penthouse apartment.

“I can’t believe you actually got us pizza,” you laughed, an irrepressible smile pulling at your lips.

“You’re gonna need all the energy you can get for what I’ve got planned, sweetheart.” He joked and, suddenly, you were very aware of the fact you weren’t wearing panties beneath your dress anymore. (And for a moment you stopped to wonder what you were supposed to do in that situation - were you supposed to ask for the shredded panties back? What was Billy even going to do with them?)

Whatever clever answer you had for him was silenced the moment the elevator doors slid open, revealing his apartment. It was strange, really; while you’d known that Billy was obviously rich, it wasn’t until you saw his apartment that it really hit home. He must have noticed the way your jaw had dropped because he let out a little chuckle as he led you into his home.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll go grab us a bottle of wine.” He stopped by a coffee table set in front of a large corner sofa to put the pizza down before disappearing.

Finally, you were able to slip out of Tammy’s Louboutins, your aching feet reminding you why you normally didn’t wear heels. Rather than making yourself comfortable, you found yourself creeping across his apartment, looking around. Surprisingly, it felt - empty. Sure, there was furniture and pretty much every appliance you could think of from a hi-fi to a TV with surround sound, but there was nothing personal, save for a couple of photos on one of the walls.

You recognised Billy in them immediately, then Frank, and a few of Billy’s friends that you’d met; all dressed in their Marine uniforms, all looking a little worse for wear, but smiling regardless. But, other than that, there were no other photos, nothing that made the apartment feel lived in.

Soon enough you were moving towards the windows that ran from floor to ceiling, marvelling at the view of the city.

“It’s a great view,” he almost startled you. You turned back slowly, a creeping sense of shame filling you, like he’d caught you snooping.

“I don’t think I’d ever get bored of this view,” giving it one last glance.

“Me neither.”

You didn’t dare ask which view Billy was talking about.

He sat down on the sofa, opening the pizza box before pouring two glasses of white wine. You made your way towards him sinking down onto the sofa beside him, eyes fixed on the pizza. Although you’d eaten earlier that evening, you found that you were surprisingly hungry. Billy gave a wave of his hand, telling you to help yourself as he picked up a slice for himself.

The moment the slice hit your lips you let out an embarrassing moan and, from the corner of your eye, you could see Billy’s grin.

“So, uh,” you choked back a laugh, “this is a nice place. It’s very - big?”

“I bought it the first year Anvil turned a profit,” he explained, reaching for his glass, “I was feeling a bit… indulgent. I always dreamed of a place like this when I was a kid, I thought I’d finally feel like I’d made it once I had a place like this.”

“And did you?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “The problem with wanting is that once you fill one hole in your life, you realise that there’s another, bigger hole that can’t be filled with things. And, when you grow up in the system, there’s a lot of things you want.”

“You grew up in foster care?” Billy nodded and you had no follow up.

“Where’d you grow up? You don’t talk like you’re a native New Yorker.” He shifted a little, turning so he could see you a little better.

You took a bite of pizza, trying to avoid the question for as long as possible.

“Islamorada, it’s, uh, in Florida.”

“You gave up sun, sea and sand for city life?” He asked and you just shrugged. “You still got family down there?”

“No, it’s just me now.”

Billy seemed to realise that it was a sore subject and you didn’t want to say any more. In a way, it felt wrong sitting there with him, getting to know him when all of this would be over in a few hours. You made small talk for a little while, asking Billy about Anvil, telling him little anecdotes about work and what it was like to live with Tammy, all the while eating pizza and almost getting through the bottle of wine together.

Until you finally felt brave enough to say; “Billy, take me to bed.”

He didn’t say a word as he got to his feet, holding his hand out to you. You took it and soon found yourself being led towards his bedroom, grabbing his free hand when it reached for the lightswitch.

“Leave the lights off?” It came out more like an uncomfortable question, but Billy was happy enough to go along with it, closing the door behind you. With the lights off, the room was bathed in the gentle glow of the New York City lights, enough to see each other but not enough to see every detail and imperfection.

You moved quickly, fingers frantically pulling his shirt open, leaving Billy to shrug it off while your hands trailed down his exposed chest to his belt. His lips crashed against yours as your fingers worked and, soon enough, you were pushing his pants and boxers down his legs.

Before you knew what was happening, he’d turned you, his fingers tugging at the zipper of your gown, letting it drop to the floor next to his clothes and your bra soon followed. Billy pulled you back against him, his lips trailing wet kisses along your shoulders and neck while his hands explored your body. When his fingers found the faint ridge of a scar on your stomach, Billy paused, but before you could panic, the hand started to move again, slipping down and between your thighs. Your legs parted, longing for his touch.

“Still so wet for me,” he groaned, fingers running between your folds, “don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna take good care of you.”

He didn’t waste any time, sinking two fingers into you and fucking you with them. There was something rougher about the way he touched you, something demanding and desperate, like the last of his patience had finally worn away. It didn’t take long for you to come and Billy didn’t waste any time trying to drag it out; he just wanted to make sure you were ready for his cock. And you were, you were desperate for him.

You felt his cock twitch as you turned in his arms, your breasts pressed against his bare chest as you sank closer and closer, until your lips were ghosting his.

“Fuck me, Billy,” you breathed, giving him permission to take what he so desperately wanted from you.

His hands on your ass pulled you towards him, holding you against him as he stepped back and took a seat on the edge of the bed, pulling you down with him. Your lips found his while he reached for the bedside table for a condom, sucking his tongue as he rolled it on and positioned you against him. The hard tip of his cock grazed the slit between your wet folds before he rolled his hips upwards, pitching every inch of himself into you. He moaned at the feeling of your slick walls straining around him, stretching as you struggled to take him, still so overwhelmed by the size of him. But the ache felt good now, intoxicating even, and you knew it would stick with you for at least a few days once you were done.

You wound yourself around him, fingers pressing into his back, holding on as he started to drive his cock into you, higher and deeper, taking more control than he had in the limo. Fingers curled in your hair, gripping but not pulling, and little by little, you realised that you were finally getting to see a glimpse of the real Billy Russo, the side that he’d been holding back. Some part of you felt like you should be afraid, especially when his dark eyes found yours in the gloom; there was something about the way he wanted you that made your stomach knot, not with fear but anticipation. He wanted you in the darkest of ways, like you were prey and he demanded your submission before devouring you whole.

He fucked you like he was laying claim to your body, like every fibre of his being wanted you, needed you. And you craved it, you craved the feel of his cock inside you and his fingers gripping at your hips and pulling your hair, just as much as you needed his gasped groans telling you how good it felt. As he stretched you, as he filled you so completely, you got wetter, practically dripping all over his cock, your body telling him what your words couldn’t. (More, more, more.)

The heat of your body clamped around him, earning groans and a hundred filthy mutterings from him, telling you everything you already knew; you were desperate for him, you loved his cock inside you, your pussy was made for him and, your personal favourite;

“You’re never going to want anyone but me to have this pussy ever again, sweetheart. No one else is ever going to fill you like I do.”

His tongue slipped into your mouth, saving you the embarrassment of agreeing with him so easily, from screaming yes and offering him something that you knew you couldn’t give. But you couldn’t think about that. If it was only going to be one night, then you hoped that the night would last forever.

You moved with him, hips trying desperately to keep time with his, drawing him deeper and deeper, your soaked walls finally letting him move with ease. As your back arched, his lips tore from yours, his face buried itself between your breasts, tongue running over sweat-slicked skin until his lips closed over an already achingly hard nipple. He sucked your nipple while his fingers curled tighter in your hair, and nipped with his teeth while his cock continued to stroke fast and deep inside you.

Nails clawed against his back, his name falling from your lips, over and over again. You’d never felt such desperation, such eager desire.

“That’s right,” he almost growled as his lips pulled from your nipple, leaving it tender and swollen, “beg for me, beg me to let you come.”

And you did without thought, so ready to give yourself over to him, no longer thinking about anything but him and the feelings he was creating inside of you.

“Please - please, Billy, I need you to -” you panted, so willing to do whatever he wanted, to submit to his every need, his every dark desire, “- please, let me -”

You could see him smirking in the gloom as he tugged your hair, causing you to lean back, letting him change the angle. The tip of his cock found that special spot inside of you and his movements became merciless, filling you with so much pleasure you barely noticed the way he was still pulling your hair. You tightened around him every time he grazed it, moaning wildly, crying his name, until you finally shattered, flooding his cock and convulsing around him. And still he fucked you, pitching his cock up into you in a way that let you knew he wanted you to be able to feel him long after he was done.

By the time his release flooded the condom, your entire body was trembling and boneless, completely and utterly his in a way you didn’t care to think about. He pulled you back toward him, crushing your breasts against his chest and laying claim to your mouth with his tongue. Neither of you tried to pull away or sever your connection; you weren’t ready to lose the feeling of his cock inside you just yet, and Billy seemed equally reluctant to leave the warm embrace of your body.

As the kiss broke your head moved to his shoulder, taking slow and steady breaths as your body slowly came down from its high. After an immeasurable amount of time, he moved, lifting you up and putting you in his bed, climbing in beside you and wrapping his arms around you.

Minutes passed in silence, his hands trailing up and down your bare skin until it felt like he’d explored every inch of you that he could. Similarly, your fingers ran across his chest, while you tried to commit every perfect detail to memory. It wasn’t long before he was kissing you, urging you onto your back so he could fuck you again. And that was how things went until you finally fell asleep; tender moments followed by desperate fucking, until you were aching and exhausted.

When you woke a few hours later, light was starting to filter into the room, and you knew it was time to leave. Gently, cautiously, you slipped out of his bed, pausing for a moment to look at him; he looked so peaceful and it struck you how you’d never seen him look so relaxed. Without thinking, you reached for him, wanting to run your fingers through his hair one last time, but stopped yourself at the last second.

You needed to get out of there.

You got dressed, found your coat and phone, and left before he could wake up and give you a reason to stay.

CHAPTER SEVEN

END NOTES : So, yeah, I got a little bit carried away with this one. I thought about making it into two chapters but there never really seemed to be a good place to stop it. Because the next chapter is set during Halloween (I know, I'm super late) I'm going to post it a little earlier, probably Wednesday.

Also for some reason my post don't seem to be showing up in the tag and idk how to fix that...

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this hope you have a great day!

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @uncontainedsmiles @damagelove

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #cmiyc ff #ben barnes #punisher fanfic

200 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 1 year ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Fifteen

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R - some smut

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing major, just some smuttiness happening in a public place. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~4.8k

A/N : This is set on new years eve (coming to the surprise of no one, I'm late af with this again)! Thanks as always for all the lovely comments and feedback, and thanks for reading!

Chapter Fifteen

You felt Billy’s eyes on you the moment you entered the party, finding him sitting off to the side with Frank, Karen, with a few of their other friends you remembered from the gala sitting at a neighbouring table. He let you clear about half of the distance between the door and their table before he got to his feet. There was something almost animalistic in the way he stalked towards you, the way he took in the sight of you, and it had you desperately trying to bite back a smile. But Billy wasn’t smiling.

You didn’t even get the chance to say anything before he was on you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into an eager and demanding kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips. It caught you off guard, left you weak in the knees - until you realised what he was doing.

He was making a spectacle, he was claiming you for everyone to see.

It was something he’d been doing more and more since his birthday. It had been subtle at first, little things that you hardly noticed; Billy holding your hand wherever you went, always finding a way to touch you or be close to you, putting his hand on your lower back and guiding you through stores and restaurants. Then it became more obvious; the way his gaze would darken when he caught other men so much as glancing your way, the way he’d kiss you like he was marking his territory, and the way he’d fuck you the second he got you home just to remind you that you were his.

And you were his, even though you hadn’t said the words yet, you both knew it.

“Billy -” you managed to pull back from the kiss, a hand on his chest gently pushing, creating space between you.

He looked at you, eyes seeming all the darker and filled with that want that you were coming to know all too well. Your hand stayed on his chest with just enough pressure to keep him from leaning to kiss you again. It took him a moment, but he finally got the hint. A second later, your hand was in his and he was leading you towards the table he’d been sitting at with Karen and Frank.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you smiled at Karen, taking a seat next to Billy. “My last job was a nightmare, then I got stuck on the phone with my brother...”

“It’s okay, you didn’t miss much.” Karen told you.

“Nothing except Billy-boy moping,” Grinned Frank, earning him a kick under the table from Billy.

“Fuck off, Frankie.” Though Billy didn’t glare at Frank for long. His gaze soon moved back to you, drinking in the sight of you, taking in your outfit; a tight, long-sleeved off-the-shoulder dress with a low-cut neckline that showed just enough cleavage to make you feel sexy, and cut high enough above your knees that you knew Billy wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off your legs all night.

He stared at you, and you stared right back. You’d dressed up just for him, just so he’d look at you like that, but you had just as hard a time tearing your eyes from him. Billy had decided to wear the same dark grey suit he’d been wearing the day you’d met and a powder blue shirt and, already, you were thinking about tearing his clothes off.

“Frank, come dance with me.” Suddenly you remembered that Karen and Frank were still there while you were practically eye-fucking Billy, and obviously Karen wanted to give you both some space.

“Right, yeah, we’ll, uh, give you lovebirds some privacy.” Frank joked, getting to his feet and offering Karen his hand.

“Less talking, more fucking off, Frankie.” Billy answered back, barely tearing his eyes from you.

You held back a laugh, but only because of the way Billy was looking at you. Neither of you spoke for a few seconds, allowing Frank and Karen time to move away from you. You just held Billy’s gaze, trying to ignore the anxious pounding of your heart, hating that you couldn’t read his expression, hating that you had no idea what was going through his mind.

“So,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “what do you think?” Nervousness slipping into your voice. Was your outfit too much? Did he hate it?

“I think every guy in the room is thinking about fucking you.”

“Not every guy,” you tried to lighten the mood, smiling at him. “Frank’s only got eyes for Karen.”

“Not funny.” Was he angry with you? Had you done something to upset him?

“Billy...” your voice so soft that it was almost lost to the noise around you.

“Don’t.”

Fuck. He was angry.

For a moment you looked down at yourself and, before you knew it, you were angry too. Before him you’d never have dared dress like this, you’d never have wanted anyone to look at you the way you wanted him to look at you. You’d spent years hiding yourself, staying in the background, never wanting to be noticed, until he made you want to be seen. He’d made you want to live your life, and now he was pissed that you were.

You glanced towards the door, thinking about leaving, and Billy must have noticed because the next thing you knew, his fingers were wrapped around your wrist.

“Thinking about going somewhere?”

“Home, if this is how you’re going to be all night.” You sighed, not at all surprised when his hold on you tightened. “Why do you even care how anyone looks at me?”

“Because you’re mine.” He answered without hesitation.

There it was again, that declaration that you wouldn’t deny anymore, but still couldn’t quite bring yourself to openly agree with.

“Then why does it matter how anyone else looks at me?” You asked.

“Because they shouldn’t be looking at you.”

You knew what this was, you knew him well enough to realise that this was nothing more than petty, senseless jealousy that he couldn’t quite control. But that didn’t mean you had to like it.

“Am I looking at them?” You asked, trying not to get angry, trying to talk it out with him, so you could settle whatever this was once and for all. Billy didn’t answer, so you asked again; “have you ever caught me looking at another man?” He shook his head, no. “Then why does it matter if they look at me?”

Billy remained silent for a moment, seeming like he was finally taking a second to think about why he was actually bothered instead of just acting on emotion.

“Because -” he let out an irritated huff, his usually composed facade cracking even further, “- because maybe one day you will look, and you’ll see guys who can give you all the things that I can’t, guys who won’t piss you off like I do, and you’ll realise that you’d be better off with anyone but me...”

There was an awkwardness to the confession, something angry but at the same time vulnerable, something that made you wonder just how long he’d been feeling that way - knowing Billy, probably right from the start. You sat with the thought for a moment, absentmindedly turning your hand so your fingers could wrap around his wrist and you could hold him like he was holding you.

“There is no ‘better’ than this for me. This is what I want - you’re what I want.” Your eyes found his and your heart broke at the confusion you found there, like he couldn’t quite understand what you were trying to tell him. “The only person who could make me want to leave you is you, Billy. I don’t want anyone else.”

There was a moment of silence while Billy took a breath and considered everything you’d said, then he offered the slightest of nods.You’d come to learn that this usually meant that he’d said all he wanted to on a matter and he was willing to let an issue drop.

“You look really pretty tonight - you’re beautiful, more than you realise.” He told you, quietly. Then it was your turn to fall silent and let your gaze drop. You’d wanted to look nice for him, but you weren’t sure you’d ever consider yourself beautiful. “Hey,” his hand found your chin, gently urging you to look up as if reading your mind, “I mean it.”

“Thank you, Billy,” you told him softly, leaning towards him and kissing him gently.

His fingers slipped from your wrist finally, and moved to hold your hand, pulling it onto his lap. For a moment his gaze wandered to the crowded dance floor, like he needed some time to regain his composure, and you let him, hoping that at least some of what you’d said had gotten through to him. You knew it was going to take time to convince him that you weren’t going to abandon him at the first sign of struggle, but what you had with him was more than worth awkward little moments like this one.

“I wish you’d let me pick you up tonight,” he finally sighed, turning his attention back to you.

“We never would have made it here if you had,” you smirked, leaning yourself against him, pressing into his side.

“Maybe not, but at least we’d be starting the new year with a bang,” grinning ear to ear at his terrible joke while you rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh. Then, again, he fell silent, his smile turning to something more serious before asking; “you were talking to Sam?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “he’s pissed at me.”

“How come?”

“He thinks I should go stay with him in Connecticut for a while.”

His grip on your hand tightened a fraction.

“Why?” The word seemed to come out sharper than he’d intended but he didn’t do anything to soften it or take it back.

“The other week, I - I told him that things were rough and he suggested that I stay with him for the holidays, but then we sorted things out, and I told Sam I couldn’t go.” You let slip another sigh, resting your head on Billy’s shoulder. “He’s just worried about me.”

“He doesn’t need to worry about you, that’s my job now.” You might have laughed if it wasn’t for the possessive tone in his voice and the way his hand was holding yours.

“Even if I do go, it’ll only be for a week or two, and it’s not like Connecticut is a long way away. It’s only like three hours,” you shrugged. While you’d hoped to put Billy’s mind at ease, you quickly realised that your words had had the opposite effect when he pulled away from you.

“You’re still thinking about going?” His gaze searched your face, though you weren’t sure what he expected to see.

“He’s my brother, I have to see him sometime.”

“He could come to New York.”

“He has a family, Billy. Kids. It’s not like I could ask them all to sleep on the sofa,” you tried to explain with an awkward sort of laugh, hoping that he’d understand, but the discomfort seemed to remain, bubbling just below the surface. “Maybe you could come with me?”

“You want your brother to meet me?”

“I mean, yeah? You’ll have to meet him eventually. I can’t just keep you hidden forever.”

Billy didn’t say anything in response, but you saw that little flicker of hope in his eyes when you dared to utter the word forever. And, with that, he fell silent again.

For a time, you were content to sit there with him, drinking champagne, and letting Billy keep you all to himself, but it wasn’t how you wanted to spend the whole party. You wanted to have fun. You wanted Billy to have some fun. So, you asked him to dance.

Billy didn’t utter a word, he just took hold of your hand and led you over to the dancefloor. You caught a look from Karen that seemed a little concerned, but you simply smiled at her and turned your full attention to Billy, your hands finding his shoulders while his arms looped around your waist. The music turned slow and you quickly fell into rhythm with each other, no space between your bodies, your eyes fixed on his.

“You’ve got no idea how much I want you right now.” He whispered in your ear.

“I think I’ve got some idea,” you smirked, pressing closer to him, feeling his semi-hard cock against your hip. But you decided to play nice, pulling back a little, giving him some space - though he decided to use that space to look at your cleavage.

“You’re not wearing a bra.”

“Less for you to have to take off me later.”

“I can see your nipples.”

He was right, your hard nipples were pressed against the taut fabric of your dress. Normally you’d feel self-conscious, you’d pull your arms across your chest or find a jacket to cover yourself, but you loved the way he was looking at you; like you were the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.

“Must just be cold in here,” it wasn’t, if anything it was too hot but his ego was bad enough that you didn’t want him knowing it was in reaction to him. Your hand slowly moved up his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him, and Billy eagerly obliged.

“I know what you’re doing,” he smirked when the kiss finally broke.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you played innocent, dramatically fluttering your eyelashes at him.

“I oughta punish you for this, sweetheart. Trying to get me hard in a room full of all my friends.”

“Trying? I think you’ll find I’m succeeding.” You joked, your fingers curling against his neck, letting your nails press against his skin. And, because you felt bold after a few drinks, you decided to ask; “how would you do it? How would you punish me?”

The way he looked at you had you thinking he was about to give a live demonstration, right there, in front of everyone. There was something dangerous about him in that moment, something raw and carnal, something that had your thighs clenching awkwardly as you swayed to the music. An eternity seemed to pass with Billy barely keeping himself in control as he considered all of the things he wanted to do to you until, finally, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

“I’d put you over my knee and spank you until you were crying out my name, then I’d fuck that clever little mouth of yours until you learned to stop teasing me.”

“Fuck, Billy…” you practically moaned. It sounded so good to you, though you didn’t understand why. The thought of being spanked or punished had never even crossed your mind before, but the thought of Billy doing it, the idea of giving him that much control, trusting him that much, was such a turn-on.

“Am I making you wet, sweetheart?” His tongue ran along the shell of your ear and your legs trembled beneath you.

“You know you are,” you admitted.

“How bad do you need me right now?”

“So bad, Billy,” you pressed yourself closer again, sighing at the feel of his erection against your hip. But as much as you wanted him to take you home, you wanted this one normal night out with him. You let out a slow breath to steady yourself. “We’re going to stay a few more hours, have some drinks and celebrate the new year with your friends, then I’m going to keep you up all night, making you moan my name.”

“Or,” Billy countered with a wicked grin, “we could leave now and I could fuck you in the parking lot before taking you back to mine and spending the rest of the night inside you?”

You gave him a playful shove and took a step back.

“Go talk to your friends and have fun, I’m gonna get a drink and see Karen.” He looked ready to disagree, but you silenced him before he could start. “You’re gonna have me all night after this, Billy. I promise.”

“Fine, but if I catch anyone so much as looking at you -”

“You’ll remember it doesn’t matter who else looks because you’re the only one I want.”

He took a breath and bit back whatever comment he wanted to make and nodded. You smiled at him before turning away and heading towards Karen at the bar, every step you could feel Billy’s eyes on you and it made you feel sexy, powerful.

Karen grinned as she saw you approaching, glancing over at Billy making his way to join Frank at your table again. You’d barely reached her side before she started talking.

“Okay, what the fuck have you done to Billy?” She asked, looking at you with amused disbelief.

“What? Nothing. I -”

“Bullshit. I’ve never seen Billy Russo look so smitten. He can’t take his eyes off you and Frank says he’s had his head up his own ass since the two of you got together.”

You didn’t know what to say to any of it. Billy was - well, smitten wasn’t the word you’d use for it. Intense, maybe, possessive, definitely, but not smitten. But, then, it wasn’t like you spent that much time around his friends, and you had no idea what Billy told them about you or your relationship.

“It’s complicated. He’s complicated,” you sighed, leaning against the bar. “He’s amazing but he still kinda pisses me off sometimes.”

“That sounds like Billy,” she laughed. “Are you two alright? He seemed a little... upset earlier.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, he’s just - I don’t know, things are getting more serious and I think he’s struggling with some of it. It’s complicated.”

“How complicated could it be?”

“How long have you got?” You laughed. “He’s just - I don’t know, I think he’s a lot more vulnerable than he lets on, and I think being with me and being exclusive has been a big adjustment.”

“That tracks,” Karen nodded, “aside from the-bitch-we-will-not-name, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone else last more than a month with him. But it’s good - I think you’ve been good for him.”

“I’m not so sure about that; he keeps getting possessive and trying to pick fights over weird little things. But - but he’s working on it, and I -” you shrugged, not really sure what else you could tell her. “I don’t know, when it’s just the two of us, he can be so sweet and gentle.”

“Sorry,” Karen tried to force down a laugh, “are we talking about the same Billy Russo here?”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh of your own, knowing how ridiculous it probably sounded. “He is though, he’s kind of amazing when he’s not trying to act like - well, Billy.”

“Oh wow, you really like him, don’t you?”

While she said like you had a feeling she meant more than that. And the way you fell silent seemed to say more than words ever could.

“Oh my god, you’re in love with him.” Her voice louder than you would have liked, causing you to glance around the room, hoping that no one had overheard, and that Billy was still sitting with Frank on the other side of the room. Thankfully he was, and he looked like he was too busy listening to whatever Frank was saying to pay you any mind. “You haven’t told him?”

“No. Like I said, it’s complicated,” you turned towards the bar, flagging down the bartender and ordering yourself a drink. Karen fell silent, but only for the amount of time it took for you to get another glass of champagne.

“How complicated could it be? You love him and he obviously -”

“He doesn’t,” because he didn’t, did he? Billy was a lot of things, but you couldn’t imagine him loving you. “Billy doesn’t do love. Whatever he feels for me, it’s not that.”

“How do you know if you haven’t even told him how you feel?”

“He told me,” you shrugged, “right from the start, he told me that he’s not interested in love.”

“Bullshit. I’ve only known Billy a couple of years, but I’ve seen the other women he’s had around, and I’ve never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you.”

“Who’s been looking at you?” Billy’s voice sounded over your shoulder so suddenly that you damn near jumped out of your skin.

“Speak of the devil,” Karen rolled her eyes and tried her damnedest to force back a smile.

“Oh, you’ve got no idea how right you are,” Billy grinned. “I think Frank’s looking for you.”

You both knew that Frank wasn’t looking for Karen, but you were at least glad that he was trying to be subtle about getting rid of her. Karen gave you a knowing sort of look before shifting to something more sympathetic, but she didn’t say another word before walking away.

“You lasted all of five minutes without me,” you sighed, reaching for your drink. “You’re supposed to be having fun tonight.”

“Yeah, well, talking to Frankie wasn’t exactly fun.”

“You looked pretty serious…”

“‘cause we were talking about you.”

“What about me?”

“Just about how I shouldn’t fuck things up with you and how he thinks I should think about settling down.” Billy shrugged.

“And what do you think?” You dared to ask even though you weren’t sure you wanted the answer after everything you’d just told Karen. If he couldn’t love you, he couldn’t settle down with you, and you weren’t ready to confront that fact with him yet.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “and maybe that’s not fair on you…”

“What do you mean?” Though you already had an inkling where the conversation was going if your earlier conversation was anything to go by.

“It’s not fair on you that I can’t promise you a future, that I still don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

He was right, you supposed, maybe it wasn’t fair - but when had life ever been fair for either of you? You didn’t even know what sort of future you wanted, what sort of future you were capable of having. Billy wasn’t the only one who was fucked up, and you didn’t know what you were doing either.

In the silence he’d looked away from you, leaning on the bar and fixing his eyes on the row of bottles on the other side. He looked defeated, he looked like he’d already decided what your answer would be, and you couldn’t stand it.

“Billy, I don’t need you to promise me a future, I don’t need some picture perfect life planned out with you.” You reached for his hand, squeezing it tight. “All I want - all I need - is what we have now. I don’t know what I’m doing either and what we have terrifies me, but I know I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to give you up just because I might not get some fairytale ending.”

“It’s what you deserve though,” his eyes found yours and your heart ached at the way he was looking at you. “You deserve the whole fucking world.”

“What I deserve is someone who holds me tight and makes me feel safe, and that’s you, Billy. You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel safe.”

All he could do was stare at you, brow creased with a frown, trying to read between the lines and figure out all the things you still hadn’t told him.

“Who hurt you?” He asked softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch, covering his hand with your own.

“It doesn’t matter -”

“It does. I want to kill him. Just say the word and I’ll -”

“Billy, it doesn’t matter, because I know no one will ever hurt me again while I’m with you.” You told him, squeezing the hand against your cheek, practically pleading with him to just drop it.

“But I hurt you.”

“Never in a way you can’t take back, and never in a way that scares me.” You smiled at him softly. “You piss me off sometimes - you piss me off so much - but when you hurt me, I know you’re only doing it because you’re hurting too.” You pressed a hand to his chest, right above his pounding heart.

“I don’t want to hurt you at all...”

“I know you don’t and, in time, we can figure it out. But, right now, I just want you to hold me and dance with me. Everything else can wait.”

He nodded and let you lead him back onto the dancefloor, wrapping his arms tight around you like he never wanted to let go. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat over the music, and lost track of time. Until, eventually you made your way back to the table, wanting to rest your feet while you waited for the new year’s countdown to begin.

“It’s almost midnight,” you told him, leaning in and pressing your lips to his without thinking about it. You didn’t expect Billy to tense, and you quickly pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry,” he was quick to utter, “I just...” he took a slow breath that seemed to say more than words could. “Poor impulse control,” Billy shrugged, even though he knew how much you hated him using those words, “if I start kissing you, I’m going to want to touch you and, if I touch you -”

Your eyes were on his, so you didn’t notice his hand moving until it was on your bare thigh, just beneath your dress.

“Maybe I want you to touch me,” you muttered, turning slightly and parting your legs a little.

Billy took a slow breath, trying to smother the fire that you’d stoked in him, but you decided that you weren’t going to let him. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted him to kiss you and to stop acting like you couldn’t handle his desires. (And, yes, you supposed the alcohol was playing a part too.) Leaning forward again, you kissed him, fingers tangling in his hair, holding him in place. It wasn’t long before he was hungrily returning the kiss, his hand slipping further up your dress.

You kept kissing him, not wanting him to stop, and when his fingers finally reached your panties, you moaned against his lips. Fingertips ghosted the wet fabric before slipping beneath and you tried to part your legs further for him, hoping that the darkness of the room and the table were hiding what you were doing from everyone else at the party.

“Is this what you want, sweetheart?” he asked against your lips, his fingers starting to strum against your clit. You took his lip between your own, sucking and nibbling, letting out another gentle moan for him.

“More,” you finally begged, “I wanna start the new year by coming on your fingers.”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, some desire to prove to Billy that you only wanted him, or just because you felt safe enough with him to do it, but you wanted him to keep touching you. You wanted him to know that when you were with him, you felt safe, you felt alive.

Billy swore under his breath but wasted no time in sliding two of his fingers into the wet heat of your body. The moan that left you was swallowed by the music and Billy looked like a man possessed, knowing he only had a couple of minutes left to make you come, but he seemed to like the challenge.

“Billy -” you moaned as his fingers curled. You loved that he knew just how to touch you, that he’d learned you inside and out. There was a roughness to the way his fingers moved, to the way he fucked you with them. You’d never thought about doing something like this in public before, but with Billy you wanted it, you wanted him to know that you weren’t afraid of his desires.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you look so perfect right now, so desperate to come for me.” He smiled, looking at you like he wanted so much more.

The countdown soon started and more moans spilled from you, but it was too loud for anyone but Billy to hear the noises you were making. When the countdown hit one, he pulled you into a fierce kiss and you came on his fingers, softly crying out against his lips. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him tight as his fingers finally slowed and withdrew from your body.

“Happy new year, sweetheart. I can’t wait to get you home,” he all but growled in your ear and, already, you knew that it was going to be a very long night...

Chapter Sixteen

END NOTES : I don't have much to say on this one, I was just enjoying playing around with how the dynamic of their relationship has started to evolved now that they're getting serious about each other. And, yes, next chapter will follow directly on from this one (sorry, it's probably going to be smut heavy again lmao)

Also I've now hit 96 followers and, I know I say this a lot, but I'm so shocked and amazed. Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, it really does make my day!

TAG LIST

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #cmiyc ff #billy russo imagine

147 notes · View notes