#dark!billy russo x reader

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Angel of Small Death

Part 1 of my Halloween mini series!

Dark! Frank Castle, Dark Priest! Billy Russo, Dark Priest! Matt Murdock

Warnings: Horror, Blasphemy, Blood play.

A/N: Special shout out to @ittybxttykxttytxtty who heard my idea and just... made it soooo much worse 😂😂😂

When your lamp flickers halfway between the dormitory and the groundskeeper’s cottage, you freeze in fright.

The night is cold, damp, and uncharacteristically dark. The moon, in her waning gibbous glory, is hidden behind the clouds of a departing thunderstorm.

All you have, to see the rocky pathway, is the oil lamp in your hand, that you’d been forced to top up with a touch of holy oil so that you’d make it to your destination and back.

If Mother Superior could see you now, she’d no doubt be rolling in her grave.

When you’re sure the lamp won’t go out, and the wick’s adjusted just right, you continue on, your eyes locked onto the little stone cottage, the low light of a fire flickering through the small window.

He could still be awake, you really hope so, you didn’t want to handle the mortification of having to wake him, and then have to ask him for help in the dead of night.

You shiver, trying not to look around, your mind threatening to spin tall tales of creatures lurking in the dark, watching you, waiting to strike. You count the stones you pass, ignoring the feeling of being observed that washes down your spine.

At his door, you climb the few steps, fingers wrapping around the icy knocker, and tapping it three times.

You wait, and you wait, and you turn around, contemplating giving up, and trying to fix the problem yourself. You can’t see far in front of you, the moonlight was usually your source of light in these dark hours.

You face the door again, trying another three knocks, before softly calling out.

“Hello?” You call, “It’s me, I-I’m the new Reverend Mother- I need your help.”

There’s a loud clicking as the latch is undone, and then you swallow, stomach twisting as the door cracks open.

By the mercy of God, you think, blinking up at him as you meet his eyes.

He’s- more attractive than the sisters had described.

“Mister Castle?” You ask softly.

“I am,” He answers. You feel your toes curl at the sound of his voice.

You shiver, and he blinks, widening the door and stepping to the side.

“Please, come in, it’s freezing outside.”

You let out an exhale of gratitude.

“Thank you.” You say softly, stepping in, sighing in relief as the heat of his cabin envelops you.

He strikes a match, lights a few candles at his kitchen table. You study him as the room gets a little brighter.

Such a defined jawline, a gorgeous mouth, his eyes, deep and dark and with an aura of sinister wrapped around him.

“Did I wake you?” You ask, voice light as you inch toward the fire, aching to settle into the cozy chair he had right near the fireplace. 

“Only a little. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes please.” You say, turning to watch him pick up an iron kettle, and pour some steaming liquid into a ceramic mug.

“What is it?” You ask when he extends it out for you. You accept it gratefully, bringing it up to your face to let the steam warm the tip of your nose.

“Ginseng.” He answers, and as you take a tentative sip, you try your best not to frown at the strong herbal taste.

You drink it gratefully because the tea is warm and makes your insides a little less cold. It brings comfort, soothing your nerves to being alone with this strange man.

You study his place, the little cot in the corner of the room, the kitchen to your right as you step through the door. A single seat near the fireplace where you think would be the best sleep of your life in this frigid cold.

“I’m sorry for waking you, and I’m sorry I have to ask, but during the storm there was a creaking noise and water started dripping from several places. I would have waited till morning to get you, but I’m worried the water reaches the library.” You finish, thinking about the delicate scripture stored there by monks long ago.

He listens, nods, sips from the cup of tea he’s poured for himself.

“Something might have shifted out of place on the roof, I'll go up into the attic to see what I can do from below.”  His gruff voice sounds, and you try not to feel affected by it.

This was simply a biological response, one you could do your best to ignore.

“I'll accompany you.” You say, feeling determined.

In the low light, you can't read the expression on his face well.

“Are you sure? The attic can be off putting in the dark.”

You give him a small smile.

“What kind of Reverend Mother would I be to make you go alone?” You say smoothly.

He grins, his teeth glint in the flickering light. He reaches, grabbing a jacket before opening the door and allowing you to step out before him.

You place the unfinished cup of tea on his kitchen table before you go.

Even inside the church is cold, the stillness of it is a big contrast to way it usually is on mornings, with the sunlight streaming in, catching on the occasional stained window.

Now, there's no light, no hearth, the pews are empty and the altar is dark.

You follow behind Mister Castle, trying not to shiver, his large shoulders and strong hands tell of a forbidden type of heat.

He turns his head on the stairway, looking at you in his peripherals, holding his own lamp in front of him. 

“Where were you when you heard this creaking sound?”

You angle your head.

“I was in the pews, praying.”

“All by yourself?” Mister Castle asks.

“Yes? It helps calms me before bed. And… also… it's hard to sleep during the storms anyway, so I best make myself useful.”

He hums in contemplation of your words.

“Your knees must ache from kneeling for so long.”

“I'm used to it.” You say lightly.

His shoulders shake and you tilt your head in confusion, wondering what about that was amusing.

The church was the largest building in the monastery, and though the ceiling was parabolic in shape, and looked to be a part of the roof, it really wasn't.

There was a space between the ceiling of the church and the true roof, where the support beams resided and could be maintained easily without causing interference to the church below.

You watch Mister Castle use a wooden stick with a metal hook at the end to tug on a piece of rope. He makes a low grunt as he pulls, and the wooden stairway descends.

You'd never been up here, and you were a little curious to see how it looked.

“Be careful,” he says, turning back to look at you, his eyes holding a mirthful light, “There's a few nails sticking out of the steps, watch where you put your feet.”

You nod, and watch as he climbs the wooden steps remembering what he does so that you can follow.

You have to tug your skirt up, from its normal length around your calves, all the way up to your knees so that it's easier. You leave your lamp behind, placing it on a table nearby and dimming it in favour of holding your skirt up for the climb.

If you thought the church was cold, the attic is worse, he extends his hand for you to take when you're near the top and you accept gratefully, having the answer to a question you didn't know you'd been asking.

His hand is warm, rough, you take a deep breath, trying to rid yourself of unwanted thoughts, you try to simply experience his touch, rather than feel it.

You give him a nod of thanks, before looking around the room.

There are objects shrouded in cloths all around, you can't tell much more than that, and you follow behind Mister Castle as he searches for any evidence of water leaks.

You wrap your arms around yourself, thankful at least that you weren't alone, that there was some comfort of having another person with you in such a quiet, dark place. You hope you brought him some comfort as well.

“Here.” He says, placing the lamp down on a nearby surface, and tugging his jacket off.

You open your mouth to protest, but he's already extending it to you and you really are cold.

“Thank you.” You say simply, accepting the heavy garment.

It's warm from his residual heat, you press your thighs together to ignore whatever was going on within you.

When he turns away, you bring the collar up, pressing it to your nose.

It had been years since you last breathed in the scent of a man like this, and Mister Castle certainly had a scent worth memorizing. A hint of smoke and sage, a touch of his unique musk, you feel your head swim at his smell.

Your body tingles as you watch him, examining the area, his arms are large, you suspect you would have difficulty in touching your fingers together if you tried to hold his arm with both hands.

You don't take your thoughts further than that, reciting a small prayer in your head, one that would give you strength to resist temptation.

“Here,” he murmurs, glancing back at you. You step up, looking around him to see that he's pointing up at a beam, that appears to have shifted, a stream of water coming down, even though the rains had stopped for at least an hour now.

He presses both hands against it and pushes, and when that only shifts it a fraction, he draws back and delivers a harsh kick to the beam. 

Your eyes widen at the sound it makes, moving back into place, the noise reverberating through the room.

“That should do it for now, in case it rains again. I'll have to come back in the morning to secure it, but this should be okay.”

You blink, nodding, reaching for one of the shrouds covering a random object and you tug, using the dusty cloth to soak up as much water as possible.

When you tug on another shroud, you pause in surprise to find a bed, where the last object had been a pile of boxes.

“I didn't know there were beds up here.” You murmur, glancing over your shoulder at the groundskeeper, watching as he studies the bed, his eyes then sliding over to you.

You gulp, tensing up for a moment, trying to avoid thinking about the dull ache inside of you.

“I suppose,” He says, taking a step toward you, “Maybe this was a makeshift living quarters for when there were more people than the dormitories could hold.”

You swallow, nodding, fighting with every atom of you not to think about the implications of you, Mister Castle, and a bed.

You smile politely, moving in the dark to retrace your steps. Since the beam is fixed, you want to leave, no longer willing to be in his presence.

You weave through the dark, until you find the steps, watching him struggle to keep up with you, ignoring his words to be careful.

You've had enough temptation for tonight, angry at yourself for feeling the way you do, your uncontrollable desires had been the very reason you'd joined the community, seeking salvation from your earthly desires, and here was one rugged man, stirring trouble.

You were better than this, you were holy and you were pure and no one would take that from you.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don't realise you've missed one of the steps until you slip, your shin of your right leg banging on the last two rungs of the ladder while your skirt catches on a nail, the fabric tearing and the nail digging into the skin of your inner left thigh.

You gasp in pain, your legs stinging as you grip the edge of the ladder to stay upright.

He glides down in seconds, placing his lit lamp besides your extinguished one before dropping to his knees in front of you.

“Let me see,” he says softly, pushing your skirt up, hissing in empathy when he sees the scratch. You can feel blood beading on the edges of the wound, starting at your knee and coming up to mid thigh.

“It's not too bad,” he says, examining it in the low light, “It feels worse than it is, there's only a little blood.”

You can only whine in pain.

He glances up at you from between your thighs and you feel something stir inside of you.

“I have a good remedy- May I?”

You nod, desperate to try anything to stop the stinging pain.

You definitely should have clarified what the remedy was before you agreed.

When his hot tongue meets your thigh, you choke on your breath.

He drags his tongue up, up over the length of the scratch, a weak sound leaves your lips.

“Frank.” You breathe his name shakily. 

He makes a low noise, before retracing the path, his saliva cooling on your skin.

When he draws back, looking up at you once more, his lips are wet.

“Is that better?”

You can't speak, but by some miracle the pain does ease, when he turns his head, you catch sight of your own blood smeared onto his lips.

His eyes are- too sinister to describe, you watch his tongue dart out to- you glance away before you can see him lick your blood away.

He drops his head again, and once more, his tongue makes a path over your now tingling wound.

You jerk, pushing him back, watching him rise to a stand, towering over you.

You pant, eyes locked onto his, trying to look for an explanation for the way he makes you feel beyond the obvious.

“You're okay.” He soothes, bringing a hand up, tracing his thumb gently over your bottom lip for just a second, your lips tingling at the contact.

You suck in a deep breath, sliding out from between his large body and the step, you keep your eyes on him as you back away, the lamp flickering in his eyes as he studies you.

At the door, you turn, scrambling down the nearby stairs in the dark and heading back to your dormitory as fast as your shaky legs and limited vision can take you, the shadows chasing you all the way there.

You make it into your room quietly, panting, you pull off his jacket, dropping it onto your bed. You shed your outer layer of clothing, dropping to your knees beside your bed in your panties and chemise to begin praying.

You fall asleep like that, on your knees beside your bed, your rosary wrapped around your fingers. When you wake, it's with damp thighs, aching knees, and dangerous dreams of being bent over and filled in an unfamiliar way, by a man that smells distinctly of sage.

The scratch on your thigh is nothing more than a fading red line. You study it, amazed at the advanced state of healing, wondering how such an unconventional remedy actually worked.

.

.

.

[ittybxttykxttytxtty]

I am not saying I miss this Billy...but this Billy 💖

Serial Killer!Billy Russo

requested by: @naesko

[hungermakesmonsters]

Love, Sick Love

Chapter One

Plot summary : Working at one of the shadier bars in Brooklyn, you have one rule; don’t mess around with the patrons. Most of them are criminals, dangerous. None more so than Billy Russo, but Billy believes that rules are made to be broken. Especially your rule. One lapse in judgement is all it takes for Billy to decide that you’re his, and he’s never been the sort of man to take rejection well.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] All chapters will deal with dark and smutty themes, including but not limited to stalking. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.8k

A/N : A full explanation of expected themes and TWs for this fic can be found here if you are uncomfortable with dark romance/toxic romance then this fic might not be for you.

Master List

Chapter One

“So, how was your date?”

You were barely through the door when the question was mercilessly thrown your way, the few patrons drinking the afternoon away in Sam’s lifting their heads to glance your way before quickly losing interest. Thankfully, they didn’t care how your date had gone the night before nearly as much as your co-worked Jenna did.

Sam’s wasn’t exactly the sort of place where people cared to get to know each other. The bar had a reputation, the kind of reputation that regularly had cops posted outside the door, waiting to scoop up patrons at closing time, though they rarely dared set foot through the door. And that was why it suited you just fine. Aside from the occasional drunk thinking he might be lucky enough to get in your pants, people didn’t care who you were or where you were from, a courtesy you were more than happy to return.

So, while there was a snicker or two around the bar, no one but Jenna was interested in your love life.

Or, lack thereof. 

You shrugged off your jacket as you made your way around the bar, hanging it along with your purse in the small staff room before heading out to start your shift.

“So, it didn’t go well then,” Jenna stated, eyeing you up and down as you stepped out of the back.

“Hi Jenna.” You said in an overly forced, perky tone, clearly avoiding the question. “How are you, Jenna?”  

“Wow, that bad?”

You’d often thought to yourself that Jenna would be better suited working for the FBI instead of tending bar; she knew how to get people to talk and she had a dogged tenacity when it came to things she wanted to know. But, fortunately for the criminal element, Jenna was only interested in gossip, bitching, and information that could be used to her advantage. She was your closest friend and a constant pain in your ass for all of the above reasons.

“Is it that obvious?” You finally relented, giving her a slither of what she craved.

The look she fixed you with was more than enough to answer the question.

“You’re wearing your fuck-me boots and that’s never a good sign,” she said with a knowing grin, obviously impressed with herself. “Wasn’t it the third date? Don’t tell me he left you high and dry...”

All it took was a slight look of disappointment on your face for less than a second for her to have the whole story.

“Oh - oh, okay,” she said and for a single, solitary second, you hoped that she’d drop it. But, of course, she didn’t. “So, how bad are we talking?”

“It wasn’t bad,” you answered, turning away from her, acting like you were checking stock, “just... disappointing.”

“He didn’t make you come?” She asked, loud enough that anyone close enough could hear. Fortunately you weren’t easily embarrassed. “I thought you said he was a doctor? Isn't he supposed to have a good grasp of… anatomy?”

Your eyes rolled as you threw her a glance over your shoulder.

“He’s a physiotherapist, not a gynaecologist.”

Not that that distinction made it any better. Disappointing sex was disappointing sex at the end of the day.

“Are you gonna see him again?” Jenna asked, biting back a laugh.

“And waste another evening on unappealing sex? No thanks. I think I’m just gonna swear off men,” you sighed dramatically, barely holding back a smirk.

“Or,” Jenna started, really drawing out that one little syllable, “maybe you need to stop only going for the safe guys and expecting Captain America to give you what you need.”

Your cheeks heated a fraction as you burst into laughter. It was a good thing that no one who could overhear understood that Captain America was what Jenna liked to call the dildo she’d bought you as a prank secret Santa gift last Christmas on account of it being a red, white and blue, unlicensed Captain America sex toy that claimed on the box to be an exact replica of Steve Roger’s dick.

It had become a private joke between the pair of you, though you’d never dare admit to her just how much mileage you’d actually gotten from the toy.

“Seriously, you need to lower your standards and find a guy who’s willing to just fuck your brains out,” Jenna continued, still utterly oblivious (or perhaps just indifferent) to the half dozen men trying to enjoy their drinks within earshot. “We could go to that biker bar just off the highway again and -”

“Aren’t we barred?” You asked. “Or, more to the point, aren’t you barred?”

“That’s what makes it more fun.”

Again, you rolled your eyes and, finally, you had a look around the bar. It was still quiet, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. As soon as it started getting dark out, the place would be packed, wall to wall.

That was when you noticed him, sat at the end of the bar, slightly hunched over and with no drink in front of him. You looked to Jenna and gave a nod in his direction, and she shrugged in response, leaving you to deal with him. If he’d overheard any of your conversation with Jenna, he didn’t seem interested. For a moment, you hung back, not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on in his head but, finally, you forced your customer service smile to your  lips and made your approach.

“Hey, what can I get you?” You asked.

When he looked up, your heart stuttered. His face was littered with scars, but they weren’t the cause of the violent pounding in your chest, in fact, after first glance you barely noticed them. No, it was his dark eyes and the way he looked at you, the way he looked through you. For a few seconds you dared to believe you might drown in his gaze (and that maybe you’d enjoy it).

The moment felt like it lasted a lifetime, his gaze fixed on yours, his dark eyes filled with unspoken threats. And promises.

“Whiskey,” he said, a scratchy quality to his voice, as if his throat was raw from screaming.

“You want the good stuff or the cheap stuff?” You asked, blinking and finally managing to break his hold over you.

Instead of answering, he patted his jacket pockets before fishing out a wallet, eyeing it as if he’d never seen it before. As he opened it and checked its contents, you tried to feign indifference, but you couldn’t help but notice the stack of bills, and how he seemed just as surprised by them as you were.

“The good stuff,” he finally answered, his eyes finding yours again.

“Excellent choice,” you answered.

After grabbing a glass and placing it on the bar in front of him, you turned to grab a bottle from the top shelf, stretching as you reached for it.

Jenna jokingly called it Tip-teasing and had been the one to teach you it when you first took the job. It was simple really; tending bar was a performance, like a striptease but you got to keep your clothes on. You’d bend and stretch in ways that showed off your figure and a little bit of skin, and the customers would suddenly feel more inclined to leave you a tip. The trick was to be flirty enough to make them want you, but not so much so that they thought they had a shot.

It wasn’t how you’d envisioned earning a living, but your hourly wage at Sam's wasn’t enough to live on and, honestly, with the way some patrons behaved you felt entitled to take them for every penny they were dumb enough to part with. 

You hadn’t decided if you wanted to help empty this guy’s wallet, but you still put on a show for him as you stretched to grab the bottle from the top shelf, your skirt and blouse both shifting and revealing a little more skin. You didn’t even have to check the mirrored wall behind the bar to know he was watching your every move. It felt like his gaze was burning into your back, like he was trying to devour you whole with just his eyes.

And when you turned back he was still looking at you just as intensely, like you were the first woman he’d seen in months. His gaze flickered downwards to the low neckline of your blouse for the briefest of seconds, and you knew you had him on the hook.

“Not seen you in here before,” you said, filling his glass. “You from around here?”

“Yeah but I’ve been... away...” he answered.

Away in a place like Sam’s meant one of two things; either he was ex-military or he’d been doing time. Normally you could tell which just from the look of a guy, but not him. His clothes were a poor fit and didn’t suit him, and, honestly, the jacket he was wearing made him look like a dealer who sold drugs to teens at raves, but you didn’t get that vibe from him. And the scars on his face were like nothing you’d ever seen before. 

But you didn’t push, didn’t pry. You knew better than anyone not to ask questions.

“Well, welcome to Sam’s,” you said with a smile as he placed down a twenty and told you to keep the change. “Gimme a shout if you need anything else.”

Jenna’s eyes met yours the moment you turned away from him, obviously interested in the new customer but, more importantly, interested in how well he had tipped. Her eyes lit up when you flashed the twenty on the way to the cash register. 

While it wasn’t policy or any sort of rule, you and Jenna always split tips when you were on shift together, teaming up and taking the patrons of Sam’s bar for everything you could. The hourly was shit and you both needed to make ends meet. And, you made a great team; Jenna’s shamelessness appealed to some customers, while your subtleness appealed to others. Between the pair of you, you emptied a lot of wallets.

“Looks like someone’s thirsty for more than whiskey,” Jenna joked under her breath. “He’s practically fucking you with his eyes.” 

You nudged past her, opening the register and depositing the bill. You gave a sly glance in the mirror, confirming that he was watching you, but you didn’t think much of it. “He can look at me any way he wants if he’s gonna keep dropping twenties.”

Over the next hour or so there was a noticeable change in the man, he seemed to relax a little, though not in the way that suggested he was on his way to being drunk. It was the kind of relaxed that came from comfort and safety. You wondered if he was hiding out, if the cops were going to be waiting for him at the end of the night, but you doubted it. 

You’d seen enough guys come through after pulling jobs, high on adrenaline, but this guy - ugh it annoyed you how difficult he was to read, so much so that he became your focus and you watched every little shift and move he made. It reached a point where you were staring at him almost as much as he was staring at you.

“Just fuck him and get it over with,” Jenna muttered, watching you after your eyes followed him towards the mens bathroom and had been staring at the closed door for at least a couple of minutes.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll just follow him into the bathroom and let him bend me over in one of the stalls,” you answered sarcastically, turning back to look at her.

“I know you’re joking, but I think that’s exactly what you need.” She grinned at you, ducking out of the way as you threw an ice cube at her. “C’mon, you’ve gotta admit, even with the scars, he’s very...”

She trailed off and you didn’t think twice before finishing her thought; “fuckable?”

“Glad you think so.”

Your heart stopped and your cheeks immediately started to warm. Jenna bit her lip, desperately trying to hold back a laugh, her face reddening with the effort. Wincing, you turned, finding him sitting at the bar again, an amused smile on his lips. And there was just something about that smile, something that felt right, that made you think it was him far more than the grim expression he’d been sporting since you’d arrived and found him at the bar.

“We were just -” you tried to explain.

“Oh, I got the gist of it, don’t worry,” he said.

Luckily he seemed more amused than anything, his eyes only leaving yours for a second to watch as Jenna headed towards the door, muttering something about a smoke break as she abandoned you.

You turned from him and took a breath, grabbing the whiskey bottle from the back before looking at him again. Without a word, you refilled his glass. When he started to reach for his wallet, you gave a wave of your hand.

“It’s on the house.”

“Is that because I’m fuckable or because you’re embarrassed?” He asked, still smiling at you.

“I’m not embarrassed,” you answered automatically, not wanting to show any sign of weakness, but then you realised the implications.

“Good to know,” he said. Then he drained his glass, keeping you there a little while longer. As you filled it again, he decided to introduce himself. “I’m Billy, by the way.”

You offered your name in return, before trying to apologise; “look, I’m sorry about Jenna, she just gets a little -” you paused, trying to think of a way to describe it, “- openly horny.”

Billy laughed and, for reasons you didn’t understand, it almost sounded alien, like he’d never laughed before - or like it had been a really long time since he had. “And you don’t?”

The question caught you off guard and had an eyebrow rising.

“I try not to.”

“Then I guess I should be honoured that you find me fuckable,” he teased.

Your eyes rolled and you were about to come up with a devastatingly witty retort when the door opened and a group of guys entered. You managed to bite back a sigh of relief at the distraction, glad that you had a reason to step away from Billy for a moment. 

While most of the group that had entered made for one of the tables at the back, a familiar face headed towards the bar, grinning from ear to ear at you.

“Hi, Jake,” you greeted, leaning on the bar a little, letting him get a good look at you, “you guys want the usual?”

He nodded and watched as you set about pulling pints for him and his buddies. 

“So,” he said, “you decided when you’re gonna let me take you out yet?” 

A slight, teasing laugh slipped from your lips and you shook your head.

“You know my rule, Jake,” you responded, like you always did, keeping a smile on your lips despite your disinterest. “I don’t date customers.”

“Can’t you make an exception just this once? I’d show you a real good time,” he countered.

“If I make an exception for you, then I’d have to make an exception for every other guy who comes through here,” you answered, laughing. “I’d be on dates every night, then when would I find time to watch Grey’s Anatomy?”

Billy let out a laugh and both you and Jake looked his way. For a moment you thought there was going to be trouble.

“Don’t worry, she just shot me down too,” Billy shrugged before taking a good look at Jake, his attention fixing on Jake's army jacket. “You earn that jacket, or did you buy it?” 

“I earned it,” Jake answered, bristling. You watched the two men, ready to intervene if needed. “You earn those scars on your face?”

You didn’t expect Billy to laugh, but you found yourself relieved.

“Yeah, I guess I must’ve,” was all Billy offered in answer and a part of you was disappointed that he didn’t give more than that. He reached into his pocket, pulling three twenties from his wallet, putting them down, still looking at Jake. “They’re on me.”

That settled, you finished pouring the drinks. Jake invited Billy to join his friends and he did, leaving you at the bar, though you weren’t alone for long. Jenna decided to slink back in, still looking like she was about to burst into hysterical laughter.

“You’re not funny,” you told her, swiping at her, clipping her arm with the back of your hand.

“Please, you should have seen your face,” she said with a smirk, though she was soon frowning when she realised Billy had disappeared. “Did you scare him off?”

“He’s made some new friends,” you told her, nodding towards Jake and his crew.

And that was where he stayed for the rest of the night, save for when it was his turn to get a round and, then, he’d linger at the bar chatting to either you or Jenna, though it soon became clear he was more interested in speaking to you. For the most part you indulged him, playing along with his teasing comments and reaping the rewards every time another round of drinks was ordered.

“So, this rule of yours...” he said.

“What about it?”

“Does it apply to fuckable customers?” He asked, smirking as you rolled your eyes.

“Especially the fuckable ones,” you retorted.

“What if I never came back?”

“Sorry, there are no loopholes.” You shrugged as you placed the last full glass in front of him.

“The funny thing about rules is that they wouldn’t be rules if they couldn’t be broken,” he answered back, grabbing the glasses and heading back to his new friends before you could respond.

The night drew on and, by last call, you and Jenna had made more in tips than you had in weeks, and both of you knew it was thanks to Billy. It took some cajoling to get the group to leave, but once they were gone, you set about closing the bar.

“I feel kinda dirty,” you joked to Jenna as you counted up and divided the tips. 

“Why? Because you let him spend the night eye-fucking you?” Jenna laughed. “If he comes back, you better keep putting on a show. With tips like these I might actually finally be able to afford a better apartment.” 

“In that case, I’ll wear my shortest skirt,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the attention.”

She knew you too well, and she was right even if you didn’t want to admit it. It had felt nice to have someone who wasn’t blind drunk or just looking to pester you for a quick fuck to notice you like that. But, rules were rules, and you weren’t going to be convinced to change your mind so easily.

“It’s a shame I can’t find a man who doesn’t drink here who looks at me like that,” was all you gave her.

“I told you, you need to stop looking for the safe guys and just have some fun... and Billy looks like he’d be a lot of fun...”

“Uh-huh, I’ll get right on that,” you retorted, “I’ll let him fuck me on the bar tomorrow night as long as he promises to keep tipping.”

The joking continued until you were both ready to leave, locking up and going your separate ways. You’d been living in Brooklyn long enough to feel reasonably safe on the streets, even late at night. So the four block walk home didn’t usually bother you, but that night something felt different.

You told yourself it was because you couldn’t stop thinking about him, Billy, and the way he’d been watching you all night, but you felt like you were being followed. Glancing over your shoulder, you checked behind you, almost expecting to find him there, but the streets were empty and, a moment later, you felt ridiculous for having the thought in the first place.

What was it about him? Why was he suddenly so stuck in your head?

(You knew the answer - of course you knew the answer - you just felt shitty admitting it, even to yourself. It was the scars and the dark eyes that went with them. He was a man with a story, trauma. There was something dark and dangerous about him, something mysterious and interesting.)

When you arrived at the bar the following evening, he was there again, sitting at the bar. His eyes found you the moment you stepped through the door the corner of his lips twitched upwards for a second.

“Back again?” You asked, smiling as you shrugged off your coat.

“I like the atmosphere in here,” he answered, his shoulder ticking upwards in a half-shrug.

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” Jenna remarked, barely holding back a laugh as walked to a table behind him to collect empty glasses.

You had to look away, biting back a laugh of your own, hanging your coat up in the back before moving behind the bar.

“Ignore her, she’s -”

“Fabulous?” Jenna interjected.

“A pain in the ass,” you said.

A smile appeared on Billy’s lips and you felt the full weight of his attention on you while you placed a glass in front of him and turned to grab the whiskey. You filled his glass and, as you pushed it towards him, he reached for it, his fingers brushing against yours. It felt deliberate but you didn’t say anything.

When he opened his wallet again, you noticed that it was full again, and you found yourself wondering just where he’d gone after he’d left the bar last night. If Billy noticed you staring at his wallet, he didn’t seem to care.

“So,” he started, “been working here long?”

“About a year,” you shrugged, not really interested in talking about yourself.

“You from around here?”

“Not originally.”

“No?” He continued. “Been in New York long?”

“Just over a year.”

He let out a laugh. “You don’t give much away, do you?”

“Not if I can help it,” you answered back, flashing him a playful smile.

Despite your evasiveness and your obvious attempts at keeping him from getting to know you, Billy just smiled, seeming amused by it all.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you can’t help it.”

“Oh really?” You asked, almost enjoying his persistence.

He seemed a lot more sure of himself than he had yesterday, a lot more comfortable in the bar and around you. You weren’t sure what had inspired the change, but he hadn’t given you any reason for concern, so you were happy to play along with him.

“I have ways of getting pretty girls to open up to me,” he told you.

You hated the way your thighs squeezed together and you were glad of the bar between you, concealing your visceral reaction to his words, and to him. Part of you was almost ready to give in, to throw caution to the wind and let him try to open you up, both literally and figuratively.

“Aww you think I’m pretty?” You teased playfully, batting your eyelashes at him, leaning on the bar a little more.

“You’re more than that and you know it,” he answered, his gaze dropping to the low neckline of the tank top you’d opted to wear tonight for a second. “You’re trouble.”

Before you could even think to ask him what he meant, the door opened and in walked Jake and his crew. He called out to Billy, catching his attention and motioning towards the table they’d been at last night.

“To be continued,” he said, sliding off the stool.

“Can’t wait,” you replied teasingly.

As the bar got busier, you lost track of Billy and what he was doing whenever he wasn’t directly in front of you at the bar. It was a busy night, busier than it had been in a while and it was made so much worse when Jenna grabbed you to tell you that she needed to leave early an hour before closing.

“Are you fucking kidding?” You asked.

“I’m sorry,” she told you, “my idiot brother got himself in an accident and now I have to go get him from the hospital. My mom’s freaking out - you know how she gets.” Unfortunately, you did know how she got, and since you’d arrived in New York Jenna’s mom had been more of a mother to you than your own ever had. “I can call Sam, ask him to get off his ass and actually do some work?”

You practically winced; Sam’s favourite part of owning a bar was not having to work in the bar and still make money from it. He mostly did a few hours during the day when the place was empty, and spent his evenings doing god only knew what. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, but working with him was always uncomfortable - like anyone in a management position, he was happy to criticise but less happy to actually help.

“No, it’s -” you sighed, “- it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” she told you, throwing her arms around you and hugging you for a second before heading out, stopping only briefly to say something to Jake and Billy.

It wasn’t so much the last hour that was the issue, you hated manning the bar on your own because all the drunks liked to drag their feet at the end of the night, and having to deal with cashing up on your own always made you a little uncomfortable.

But, tonight, everything seemed to be going well.

Seemed being the operative word.

Someone stepped in just as the last customer had left and, from the looks of him, he was already wasted from wherever he’d been drinking already. He’d probably been kicked out of somewhere and wanted to try his luck at Sam’s.

“We’re closed,” you told him.

“I just want one more drink,” he said. 

“Yeah and I wanna go home.” You stepped out from behind the bar, ready to shoo him towards the door. “The Styx two blocks over is still open -”

“That’s where I just came from.”

Great, so he’d been kicked out of the only bar in the neighbourhood that had a worse reputation than Sam’s. 

“Then I don’t know what to tell you,” you shrugged, “‘cause we’re closed and you’re not getting a drink here.”

If you’d been thinking straight, if you hadn’t been so damned tired, so fucking cocky, you never would have stepped as close as you did. Before you could even think to step back, his hand was on your shoulder. Your instant instinct was to swing your arm, catching him across the face with an open palm, but that just made things worse.

His other hand grabbed your arm and he pushed you backwards against the bar, with enough force to wind you.

“I said I want a drink, bitch,” he snarled.

“She said the bar’s closed.”

Shock jolted through you the second the drunk was pulled away from you and his head was slammed against the bar. A sickening thump turned your stomach and you watched, frozen, as his arm was awkwardly twisted behind his back and his face was dragged along the length of the bartop. At the end  of the bar he was thrown to the ground.

Billy.

It took a moment for it to register that it was Billy who’d come to your defence, kicking the drunk in the stomach, over and over, as he tried to curl up on the floor and protect himself. You were shaking, stuck between thoughts of wanting to see the drunk get what he deserved and knowing that it would only cause more trouble if he ended up dead.

The change in Billy was so sudden, so severe and jarring, that for a moment you dared to think that surely this couldn’t be the same man who’d been joking and laughing with you over the last couple of nights. Now you were seeing a new side to him, something dangerous, violent, vicious.

He didn’t look like he was going to stop. It looked like he wanted the drunk hurt, dead even. For a few moments he seemed utterly out of control.

“Billy, stop,” you protested weakly, your voice coming out too quiet.

It was lucky that Jake was still around. He grappled with Billy, struggling but managing to pull him back. And, after a very brief conversation between the two, Jake pulled the drunk off the floor and led him outside to god only knew where.

When Billy turned back, you found yourself forcing a breath, trying not to look as upset or shaken as you felt.

“Are you -”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, heading around the bar, not wanting to show any weakness.

Your back hurt and you still felt winded, but what got to you most was the way your hands shook as you reached for a glass and a vodka bottle.

“You don’t have to put on a brave face,” he told you, following after you. “Did he hurt you?”

“I said I’m fine, so can you just drop it?”

You knew better than most where weakness got you and, in a place like Sam’s, you couldn’t afford to be weak. You did have to put on a brave face because that was all part of the job; you needed to be tough, you needed to be able to put up with this kind of shit happening. But try as you might, it wasn’t you. For all your bravado, it had scared you.

Billy watched as you poured a drink and knocked it back, not saying a word as you tried to still your trembling hands. After a pause, you reached for a second glass and placed it on the bar for him, pouring him a healthy measure of vodka while you refilled your own glass.

Neither of you spoke for a couple of minutes, both content to have a couple of silent drinks; you didn’t know what to say and he clearly didn’t want to get his head bitten off again. But it soon became awkward and uncomfortable.

“You didn’t have to -” you started, your voice threatening to break despite your best efforts to sound cool and detached. 

“Yeah, I did,” he said, his voice firm and unwilling to consider anything to the contrary.

You didn’t dare ask why he felt like he had to intervene. You didn’t even want to ask why he and Jake had still been there. In fact, you decided that you didn’t want to think about it anymore. All you wanted was to forget it ever happened.

After a couple more drinks, you put the bottle away. The buzz you felt was more than enough, and you just wanted to go home.

Billy stayed while you locked up, waiting out on the sidewalk, watching your every move. Once you were done, you turned to him, expecting him to leave but, instead, he just looked at you.

“Don’t you have a home to go to?” You asked.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re home safe.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need an escort, Billy,” you sighed, just wanting the night to be over.

“Who said I was offering?”

Common sense told you to argue, but you got the feeling that there was nothing you could say to stop him. And, honestly, some part of you felt glad of the company, even if you couldn’t admit it. But something had dramatically shifted; he’d seen you weak and vulnerable and you’d seen him - well, whatever that had been.

With a resigned sigh, you started to walk, a slight sway in your step from the vodka you’d been necking on an empty stomach. Billy fell into step beside you, his hands in his pockets, not saying another word until you huffed another sigh.

“Have I done something wrong? ‘cause you’re treating me like I’m the one who had my hands on you,” he asked, a hint of something in his voice that you couldn’t quite place. Anger? No, irritation.

The thought caused you to falter. For all his talk, it was the most forward he’d ever been with you, like the game he’d been playing had ended and something else had taken its place. And, in a way, you felt bad. He was right, he hadn’t done anything but you were still taking your shitty mood out on him.

“Sorry,” you finally answered. “I’m just used to taking care of myself and that...” 

“I get it. When something like that happens, it makes you doubt yourself.”

You glanced at him, catching the way his shoulder awkwardly hitched, almost like he was in pain, like he’d pulled something saving you. But, of course, you didn’t ask. You didn’t ask anything. The lines had already become far too blurred for your liking; who you were in the bar and who you were out in the real world were two very different things.

You didn’t speak again until you were outside your apartment building, a creeping feeling of embarrassment and dread filling you. Putting it nicely, it was a shithole. Despite the hour, there was music blaring from the ground floor and a group of kids were hanging out on the steps, drinking, smoking and getting high. It wasn’t a great place to live, but it was all you could afford.

“I’ll walk you in,” he said before you could say anything.

You opened your mouth to protest but just one look from him told you that it was pointless and you were too tired to argue with him. 

The elevator was out of order but he didn’t comment or complain on the slow walk up four flights of stairs. You did. Under your breath you complained a lot. And, by the time you reached your apartment, you felt like you had to invite him in for just one more drink, to thank him for everything he’d done for you. And you hated it, hated letting this man that you hardly knew into your apartment, letting him see a side of you that you kept hidden.

(Worst still, you hated thinking how this would change things, how he probably wouldn’t look at you the same way tomorrow. He’d seen that you were more fragile than you let on, and you were certain that whatever interest he’d had in you was well and truly over.)

He gave you a look before accepting your invitation, an indecipherable smile on his lips, before stepping into your apartment and setting in motion a chain of events that was going to change your whole life.

End Note : Again, if you didn't see the explanation of what themes and TWs this fic will have, you can find a full list here. This chapter is pretty much set up, but things will start getting dark and smutty from next chapter onwards. As with my other Billy fics, I'm hoping to be able to post this weekly on Fridays.

As always you comments/likes/reblogs/asks/general screaming is always appreciated. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter and I hope you all have an amazing weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List : @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @sweetserendipity65 @dreadfulxives18 @snowkestrel @ladyblacky

@readingabouthim @cheshirecat484 @broadwaybabe18 @oliviaewl @lincerad

[dreamcatcher92]

Chapter 1: Man in the Window

Summary: Reader falls head over heels in love with her neighbor after a bad break-up. Will he also turn out to be her knight in shining armor as well?

Warnings: smut, language, sex, alcohol use. 18+ only!

The sun was finally shining bright after several dreary days. You decided that this would be the best day to start working on your tiny balcony oasis. You had moved into your new fourth floor apartment in New York City about six and a half months ago. After months of saving, you were able to finally buy the cute decor items that you had your eye on for so long.

Your new three-piece cushioned black wicker patio set had just arrived. You had gone to some of the small local shops and found some fake plants and ceramic jars that varied in sizes and shapes. To accent the entire scene that you had envisioned was a large navy blue and white mosaic outdoor rug.

After carrying everything out of the sliding glass door and onto the terrace, you took a step back and leaned against the railing to picture where you would put everything.  Finally, after about an hour of moving things around, you had finished. 

“Phew!” you exclaimed as you sat down in one of your new chairs and wiped the sweat from your forehead.

As you sat, you watched the sun go down behind all the tall buildings. The city lights were getting brighter as the sky darkened, and you looked around to take everything in. You had only been outside three or four times because of the cold weather so this was the first time that you had been able to actually enjoy an evening outside. You were noticing things that you hadn’t yet and it intrigued you.

Your red brick apartment building has five floors and is in the shape of a big U. So as neighbors were opening curtains, or turning on lights, you would glance in their direction just to be nosey and see what was going on and who lived where.  On the second floor, you could see an older woman watering her plants in her kitchen window. A middle aged man lived on the third floor in a corner apartment. He was in his living room watching football. The lights suddenly turned on in the apartment across from yours. You quickly glanced to watch and see what would appear. 

“Holy shit.” You said aloud to yourself when you saw the man walk up to his glass door and peer out. 

You couldn’t stop staring at him. He was gorgeous. Tall, slender built, and dark brown hair that was styled back neatly. He had a black suit and tie on. He loosened his tie as he stood looking out into the distance. 

He stood still for a few minutes, then turned and walked out of view. You took a deep breath in and decided that you’d go inside for the night. You walked into the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of Chardonnay. Then, you went into the living room and plopped yourself down on the couch. 

A few hours and three glasses of wine later, you had fallen asleep on your couch while watching Grey’s Anatomy. Around 3:30 in the morning, You were jolted awake from the nightmare that you were having.

“It was just a dream! It was just a dream!” you kept saying to yourself over and over as you sat up trying to calm down.

You felt like your heart was going to pound out of your chest. As you stood up, you turned off the television and walked your glass into the kitchen where you placed it in the sink. You looked over to the glass door and saw that you hadn’t shut the curtains yet. You walked over to pull the curtains, but when you looked out and over to the windows across from you, you saw the man from earlier now just in black boxers staring straight at you. 

You let out a gasp and hurried to pull the curtains closed. Shit! Did he see me earlier? How long has he been standing there looking in my windows? These thoughts were racing through your head as you hurriedly made your way to your bedroom. 

As you laid down in bed, you kept thinking of him. His gorgeous hair, those dark eyes, and that undeniably sexy body. You started to feel a bit of a tingling sensation, but snapped out of your thoughts quickly. You literally just got out of a relationship! Granted it was awful, but still! Plus, you don’t even know this guy!

The next morning, you woke up and got ready for the day. You grabbed your computer bag, and headed out the door to the little coffee shop on the corner. You love this tiny cafe and do your work there every day as you eat and drink your usual duo. A lemon blueberry scone and an iced caramel macchiato with cold foam.

You have become one of the regulars, so every morning when you walk in, the barista has your meal ready for you. Then, you sit in the same back corner booth and begin work. You work for a marketing firm out of California, so your job is completely virtual, which you absolutely love. You don’t like going out in public very often, and when you do, you try to go when you see that there aren’t many people. However, living in New York City made that a bit more challenging, but you're adjusting. 

“Need a refill?” one of the waitresses and now your friend, Johanna says with a big smile on her freckled face.

You looked up at Johanna and smiled as you replied, “Absolutely! I think today is going to be a long one.”

“You got it!” Johanna said as she spun around and twisted her curly red hair up into a bun on the top of her head.

The bell rang and someone new walked in. Not many people frequent this small establishment, so when the high pitched noise rang out through the air, you looked up curiously to see who it was that came inside. Your heart felt like it skipped a beat. It was him. The man from the window. 

You sat back quickly and tried to hide in the booth, but it didn’t work very well. He spotted you and gave you a smile. Then, he ordered his coffee and left. A huge sigh of relief left you when he walked out. You had no idea what you would say to him if he approached you. You were a hot mess when it came to talking to guys. 

Over the past few months, you had tried to meet someone. You thought it would help you move on from your ex-boyfriend Spencer faster. You quickly learned just how awkward you are and how awful you are at conversations. You had been on three dates so far and every one of them ghosted you after the first night. It was only a dinner date, and yet somehow you had managed to run them off every time. 

“OH. MY. GOD! Girl, did you see how hot that guy was?!” Johanna said as she handed you your new drink.

You stared at her for a moment and then giggled, “yes, I saw him.”

Johanna sat down across from you and started talking so fast, “I could barely even speak! Ugh! Could you imagine being with someone like him?!”

“Yeah, it definitely would be interesting!” You laughingly replied and then let out a long sigh, “I should probably get going. I’ve finished my work for the day. It wasn’t as bad as I thought after all.” You started packing up everything and slid out of the booth.

“Okay! Will I see you tomorrow?” Johanna replied as you stood.

“Maybe!” You said in a high tone as you made your way to the door, “See you later!”

You made it home and flopped down onto the couch. You couldn’t stop thinking of the guy across from you, but then all of those thoughts were interrupted when your phone dinged from a notification. You grabbed your phone from your pocket and opened up the screen. It was a Facebook notification about memories that you had from two years ago. 

You immediately felt sick to your stomach. You knew that all of your past memories included Spencer. You decided to swipe the notification away without opening it and laid your phone facedown on the coffee table. Those memories were a thing of the past and that’s where they needed to stay. You were tired of anything and everything dredging up things and reminding you of the life you used to live. It’s time to move on.

[ittybxttykxttytxtty]

Brooklyn Baby (Part 1)

Dark!Billy Russo x Rawlins!Reader

Word Count: +1132

Warning(s): None in this chapter.

Author's Note(s): I've been waiting to make this for a while but then my tumblr got deleted. Thank you @bunnywritesmarvel for not deleting the original post/rant lol love ya! xo

Billy had his suspicions for a while now, however he never thought it'd be so soon. He knew Rawlins would rid of him once given the chance. It came with working for him. It would cost him dearly, so Russo decides to play the game. By taking it one-step further. He decides to pursue his daughter, you.

Growing up in New York you never knew of your mother. Your father had gained full custody, stating that she had walked out of your life. Of course, you never bothered him about it. He gave you everything you needed. A family and support system. He would always remind you of the two most important rules to always follow: Out of site, and out of mind. Simple words of William J. Rawlins III.

Even though your father is an important public figure, details of his personal life were kept a secret. Your existence was only a whisper. A silent hush. Being the only child and heir to the Rawlins estate, your father kept close tabs on you. After what happened to Frank and his family, Rawlins made sure to keep your identity a secret.

Billy had his suspicions up for a while now. He knew one day Rawlins would betray him just like Frank. It was disappointing to find out they weren't as close friends as he'd thought. After months of research, Russo had finally infiltrated the flaw in Rawlin's defense team, you. It wasn't easy. He'd lost a few men while trying to infiltrate your location. For the first time ever, it was Billy who held the upper hand.

On the day the two of you met he had calculated every move. Billy parks his car a few blocks from where you worked. He checks himself in the rear-view mirror, making sure to look impressionable. Right around now you would be volunteering at the local community center. Most of your free time was spent working at shelters and foodbanks. A good girl helping the needy, how precious. Billy smirks as he watches you from his side door mirror. Part of him wonders how a sweet piece of ass like you came from Willie. The two of you looked nothing alike.

In only a few minutes you would walk though that door and return to your car. It was during those few minutes when Billy starts to hatch his plan. He passes by your car, jabbing the sides of your tires with a hidden knife. Every part of it was calculated and quick. As he opens his car door he could see your reflection in the sideview mirror. He's sat inside his Porsche. Waiting for his cue, a sudden gasp.

He spots you making paces back and fourth, debating on whether or not to call your dad. Of course no one else would come to help you in this part of the city, it was right by Hell's kitchen. But don't worry, Billy Russo will come sweeping in to save the day. When you start to tear up you voice call, "Excuse me miss."

You turn around to find a tall, lean figured man approaching. He's brunette, seemingly in his 30's, sporting a tailored suit and million-dollar smile, "You look like you could use some help." he ushers to your car. You turn one last time and give it a long stare before turning around to nod. Billy smirks from the look on your face. Those puppy dog eyes hadn't been tainted by the world just yet. Poor little dame like you should be careful. You never know who to trust.

But no worries, he'll give you your first lesson today, "Do you need a ride home? I've got nothing to do for the rest of the day."

"Uh..I'm really not suppose to talk to strangers."

Billy raises a brow at that statement. You're a Junior in college, It's not like you were 12. He asks again, "I just wanted to do something nice and you look like you could need a helping hand." he butters you up with those words. Convincing you that he was a knight in shining armor. Tall, handsome, rich. Billy knows what most women want. He'll have you thinking of Mr. Russo with the fancy suit and charming smile. Steering himself right into your heart and father's inheritance.

He promises to drop you home safe and sound. During the entire care ride he had kept the conversation going. It turns out the two of you had a lot in common. He purposely takes a few detours to lengthen your trip together. You on the other hand were already smitten from his charms. In the back of your mind there was a sense of weariness, but as soon as the trip became interesting you ignore it.

You felt bad about lying to your dad, but surely it wasn't that serious. In the morning you'll call for a tow truck to take care of the car. Billy even made sure to walk you to the front gates of your home. He whistles at the sight of the home itself, pretending to be impressed. As if he's never visited a dozen times. He turns to you, leaning in. His stature was much taller than yours. For a moment, you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks.

His dark eyes are hooded, you could see every last one of his lashes. He whispers, "See princess? You don't have to worry about me I'm not like the other guys out there." he reaches to brush a hair behind your ear. For a moment the two of you held eye contact. Billy is the first one to break it. He reaches into his coat and hands you a card with his information, "Russo, Billy." making sure you're at the front door before returning to his car.

You give him one last wave before entering the house. You were ecstatic! Pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts on what had happened today. You couldn't help but admire what a gentleman he'd been. Giggling from the memory of the car ride. You felt giddy with excitement. It's not everyday you have a guy like that volunteering to give you a ride. Not only that but he made sure that you would return home safely. You decide to send a quick message before calling it a night.

Billy leans against his car, confident that he's gained your trust His phone suddenly buzzes. As he reads the text you'd sent he couldn't help but smirk at how fast it took to message him.

'Thank you for helping me get home safe, I appreciate it Mr. Russo.'

'Anytime princess, I'm only a call away if you ever need any help.'

Billy whistles a tune while driving off. Satisfied that today's mission had been a success.

[anitaxl]

Took a break from tumblr, came back to both of the au’s I’ve been obsessed with have been updated twice….WE UP!!!

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

snow white

kinktober, day fifteen

a/n: i really wanted to play around with a fairytale this kinktober season and i came up with maybe too many ideas for a bunch of different ones, but this one just stuck with me for months, so i had to go with this one.

summary: that was often how it was with your seven miners. In certain moments, they just became something else, something entirely different and much more ethereal than seven mortal men, but instead fused together into a sea of love that they let you float in. 

warnings: snow white!reader x various, dark!prince!billy russo, miners!steve rogers, bucky barnes, thor odinson, miguel o'hara, marc spector, matt murdock, frank castle, dark content, smut, fairytale retelling, innocent!reader, references to loss of virginity, arranged engagement, assassination attempt, violence, poison apple, kidnapping, somno, polyamory, reverse harem, time jump (for domestic and slutty purposes), kissing, fingering, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, overstimulation, oral, handjob, squirting, multiple orgasms, gangbang, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, double penetration in one hole, unprotected sex, creampie, dark ending

word count: 6746

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024

Once upon a time, there lived a princess. 

You, to be exact. 

However, your day-to-day life, that wasn’t a part of you that one could define as something very regal, not lately, not since your father had died and left you in the hands of his late wife, a vain woman he had only married a short time prior to his passing. 

There wasn’t much you were allowed to do any longer as your stepmother was perhaps a bit too overprotective of you in her own cold way, even though many of the chores the sea of servants that buzzed within the castle took care of, that for some reason wasn’t off limits to you, if not encouraged by the queen. 

But it was all out of love, wasn’t it? 

“Oh, there you are!” your gaze fluttered up to find the prim and familiar figure stalking towards you in the gardens, “what in the world are you doing out by this ghastly old well?”

“Prince William,” you stiffened up slightly at his presence and swiftly did a curtsy, “w-what are you doing here?” 

“Ah, come on, Snow,” his palm brushed against the edge of the stone well, briefly cleaning it a bit before he leaned against it, “how many times do I have to tell you to call me Billy?” 

“Your Highness,” you swallowed nervously, “I’m just not sure that would be completely appropriate. You deserve to be paid with the utmost respect.” 

“Oh, I agree,” a sly smirk slithered across his chiselled features, “though, I do think my fiancé should be allowed just a little leniency.” 

“Oh,” you put on a smile for the royal, “you got engaged? Congratulations! Is it to someone I know?” 

“I’d sure hope so,” he grinned, and the next words that rolled off his tongue caused your face to drop, “it’s you.”

Blinking back at him, you couldn’t help but flinch as he stepped to get closer to you.

“…excuse me?” you breathed, your hand fluttering up to the neckline of your modest gown as you felt your heart begin to hammer in your chest.

“We’re to be married,” he caught your hand and kept on smiling, “I just sorted the last of the details out with your mother a few moments ago.” 

“Stepmother,” you corrected him hazily before uttering, “I–… how come I didn’t know about any of this? Why didn’t anyone think to ask me what I wanted?” 

Billy’s face then scrunched up at your question, as if it was the strangest of reactions to have at such news, “well you know now.” 

“That’s–,” you stared back at him, your eyes wide and horrified before you ripped your arm back out of his hold, “no.”

“What?” 

“No, I don’t wanna marry you,” the words flowed out of your lungs. 

But to your astonishment, the prince of the neighbouring kingdom then only chuckled, “what do you mean you don’t want to marry me? Of course you do, everyone does.”

“Well, I don’t.” 

Slowly, he seized your arm in a bruising grip before inching closer to you and leaning down to sternly whisper in your ear, “you better get rid of this attitude before you become my wife.”

The following week when the queen suggested that you go for a walk through the nearby woods, an activity you’d formerly thought to be banned as all your previous pleas throughout the years had failed, you nearly stumbled as you rushed to accept the opportunity. 

Where this newfound kindness had come from that you had no clue of, though you weren’t going to argue now as the chains around you slowly began to slacken. 

The queen’s protective nature for you stayed fast however when she sent a guard to accompany you, though one you’d never encountered before as you spent so much time in the castle that you knew all of the others by name. Perhaps he was just new? 

Though when you eventually came upon a clearing and you decided to take a small break in that peaceful and serene glen, it all changed so quickly that you nearly got whiplash. 

One moment, you were grinning up at the treetops, whistling back to the birds building a nest up there, and the next, the guard shadowing you had raised a dagger up high and lunged it down upon you. Thankfully, luck was for once on your side and you managed to twist just enough for it to miss your sternum and instead slice through your sleeve and cut your shoulder. 

When you tried to run, a shrill scream erupting your frame, the knight caught your arm before you could manage to escape.

Though just as all hope seemed lost, when the dappled sunlight caught and reflected in the shiny blade as he rose it back up high, it never pierced your heart as a pickaxe instead suddenly appeared from out of nowhere, flying through the air and lodging itself right above the guard’s brow. 

He stayed standing for a second, blood trickling down his face, before the warrior’s body fell backwards and collapsed on the forest floor. 

Your frame shook like a leaf on the wind as you stood there, eyes wide with horror, watching his brain leak and stain the moss below your feet. 

“Are you alright, my lady?” a deep voice called from behind you, though it still took you a moment before you were able to rip yourself out of your petrified state. 

As you slowly twisted around, you saw seven men standing at the edge of the clearing, all of them except the blonde one in the middle with a pickaxe clutched in their hands. 

“Are you hurt?” the miner missing his tool spoke again, taking a ginger step closer. 

Still reeling, unable to fathom that you nearly just lost your life, you blinked, “I–… I–…” though just continued to stand there, frozen in the middle of the storm. 

“You’re bleeding,” a dark-haired man further down the line uttered before the muddled confusion that bloomed on your horrified features caused him to gently gestured to your arm and guide your gaze down to your shoulder. 

“O-oh…” you blinked back at the gash, though still couldn’t pierce through the fog to do anything more. As your glossy eyes flickered back up to gaze at your heroes, the woods around you began to spin as you then blubbered, “you saved me… I–… I–…” before the whole forest went black and you collapsed into a pair of quick arms. 

“Wow, it’s alright,” a voice washed over you as soon as you came to, “you’re okay.”

After your eyes had found the source of the deep timbre, they then flickered around to take in the unfamiliar home you now found yourself in.

“Where am I?” you asked hesitantly as you sat up in the bed you’d been planted on. Looking around the space, it wasn’t the only one as the whole room was filled with enough sleeping arrangements for all of the strangers. 

“Don’t worry, you’re safe,” the long golden locks on the man sitting by your feet rustled slightly as he raised up both hands in a gesture of goodwill, “you’re in our home,” he informed you before his neck twisted and he shouted out the open bedroom door, “hey guys! She’s awake!”

As the rest of the men from the forest began to filter into the dormitory, your legs curled up beneath the blanket and you swiftly hugged your knees to your chest. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” one of them asked in a careful tone. 

“I–…” you felt your heart thump in your chest as your wide eyes danced between the burly figures, “what do you–, w-why did you take me with you?” 

Taking a step forward, a dark-haired one said, “well, we couldn’t in good conscience just leave you back there and let you bleed next to your assassin,” he then tilted his head, “plus my healing supplies were all back here.” 

As you glanced down to discover your slashed sleeve cut off and missing with a bandage instead wrapped around the ghastly cut on your upper arm, you then blinked back up at the stranger and asked, “you’re a healer?”

“No, not really, I’m a miner, we all are,” he gestured to the others. 

“Yeah, we work in the mines out west on the other side of the village,” the one leaning against the doorframe shared. 

You faintly recalled the mines they spoke of, though you hadn’t been out there since you were a child, the memory however of the glimmering jewels it produced still sparkled brightly in your mind. 

“Hey, do you mind me asking,” the one standing beside the pickaxe-throwing blonde spoke, “why in the world would a royal guard want to kill you? I mean, forgive me if your looks are deceiving, but you look like just an innocent young girl.”

Averting your gaze to the quilted blanket draped over your form, you uttered, “it’s probably because my stepmother commanded him to…”

“Wow…” one of them breathed, “she has that kinda power? Then you must be, what–, some kind of lady?”

“Princess, actually,” you blinked up at them and watched as they all froze up, instantly growing so quiet that you would have been able to hear a single pin drop in the cottage, “thank you all so very much for saving me. I can’t even begin to fathom what would have happened if you hadn’t intervened.” 

“Oh, well…” the blonde one in the middle shifted slightly, visibly nervous at the discovery of who you truly were, “you’re welcome, your–, uhm, highness.”

“Please, just call me Snow. That’s what everyone does,” you waved a hand and offered him a soft smile, “what are your names?”

“Well, I’m Steve,” the one who’d thrown the pickaxe pressed his palm to his broad chest, “and that there is Bucky, Thor and Marc,” he gestured to the other miners, “and that’s Matthew, Frank and Miguel.”

“Miguel,” you spoke the name of your healer, “thank you for patching up my arm.” 

“Does it feel alright?” he glanced down at the bandage, he too clearly not having a clue how one should act around a royal, “because I could go get some herbs if you–”

“No, thank you, I think I’ll manage” you gently declined before uttering, “although, I–… what’s to happen now? I can’t just go back to the castle, I’d be dead within minutes.”

“Don’t you have anyone you trust somewhere else? Someone you could stay with?” the one named Matthew asked. 

The only person your mind managed to scrounge up was the prince you’d been unwillingly promised to, and he wasn’t just an individual you didn’t trust, but also one you feared.

“No…”

“Uh…” Marc exhaled before his glance flickered across the rest, “would you excuse us for a moment?” 

And as you offered a nod, they all filtered back out the bedroom and huddled up just outside the door, though you could still faintly catch a word or two in their discussion.

“Okay,” Steve crossed his burly arms across his chest when they all entered the room once more, “you can stay here for tonight, and then tomorrow we’ll help you come up with a plan.”

The following day, when all the miners had gone off to the mountains for the day’s work, they’d said their goodbyes before leaving you in the cottage, fully expecting you to no longer be there once they returned. 

But you didn’t leave, you couldn’t have. Where would you have run off to?

So instead, to both try and convince the entire group of you staying, yet also in a makeshift attempt at thanking them for how they’d come to your aid, you spend the day cleaning their messy abode and welcoming them home to a dining table brimming with a roasted feast, a simple comfort none of them had seen in a while. 

It had only been one of them who hadn’t instantly jumped onto the unanimous agreement to let you become a part of their household, but he swiftly received an elbow to the rib to help change his tune.

Not long passed before you soon grew close, and one night, after weeks of you experiencing a sensation you’d never even known existed, something unfamiliar that each and every one of them evoke and flooded your senses with, you finally couldn’t hold your tongue any longer as your innocence had begun to thrust you into the abyss of worry. 

You still hadn’t received a permanent sleeping arrangement even though you’d been here for a while, each one of the miners still took turns letting you borrow one of their simple beds, all of them lined up along the perimeter of the shared bedroom, and let you rest there for the night while they took the humble couch. 

So as you sat on your bed for the night and your gaze shadowed the men as finished getting ready for the night, shedding their clothing and washing up in a small basin by one of the windows, the unfamiliar feeling fluttered once more in your lower belly and drove you to part your lips and utter, “hey Miguel?” you caught the attention of the healer of the lot, “I think there might be something wrong with me…” 

Patting his damp face dry with a small rag, he brought it down upon his shoulder as he furrowed his dark brows over at you, “why would you think that?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you met his glance, “I feel strange…”

“Strange how?” he took a seat at the foot of the mattress you were curled up on, “explain it to me.”

“Well,” you began hesitantly, “ever since I got here, since I met you all, this weird feeling keeps bubbling up inside of me, like I’m about to faint or something, like I can’t think, and all I can focus on is just this odd tingling sensation almost, like–, I don’t know how to explain it, I know it sounds weird, but I swear, something’s going on, I don’t know what, but it’s weird.”

The man’s head then promptly tilted to the side and you heard him exhale, “oh, honey…” 

Your explanation also caught the attention of the rest of the miners and even conjured a small laugh in some, though Steve swiftly stepped in and barked, “hey! Shut it!” rapidly putting a holt to Bucky and Marc’s amusement. 

Placing a palm on your blanket-covered shin, Miguel then uttered gently, “I think what you’re describing isn’t something bad.”

“Are you sure?” you sat up a bit more. 

“Positive,” he nodded, trying his best to keep a straight face unlike some of the men behind him who still struggled even after getting scalded. 

“So, I’m not sick?”

“No,” he shook his head, “you’re not.”

“Your Highness,” Frank then spoke up, “have you never–, uhm, been with someone else?” 

“What do you mean?” your brows knitted together. 

“Okay, uh…” Thor sighed softly, taking your confusion as enough of an answer, “have you ever–, let’s say, kissedsomeone before?”

“Well, yeah, I’ve been kissed before,” your thoughts drifted to Prince Billy, though none of those times had stirred any sensations of this sort, “but I’ve never felt like this, not ever,” your gaze then danced between and caught each of the stares the seven miners directed at you, “what’s going on? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Have you touched yourself while you feel like this?” your eyes suddenly grew at Bucky’s bold question, “does your little honeypot get all wet from this feeling?” and when you found yourself too stunned to conjure an answer, he went on, this time with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, “I mean, if you’d like, one of us could help you. Teach you how to make it feel better…” 

“You know how to make it better?” you blinked back at him.

“Oh yeah,” his gaze dipped a bit as his grin grew wider. 

“Do you want one of us to help you?” you then heard Steve offer. 

And as your head began to rock in a soft nod, Marc asked, “which one do you want?”

But as you stared around at all of them, you murmured, “I–… I don’t know…”

“Just pick the one that gives you the most butterflies,” Matt tried to aid your decision, “the one that makes you feel like your heart lives between your thighs.”

“…do I have to pick?” you asked quietly as you blinked around at all of them, now clustered by the small bed, “couldn’t you all just help me?”

“…you want all of us to help you?” Miguel’s head dipped slightly as he tilted forward in surprise. 

“At once?” Frank asked. 

And as you offered them a nod, they all exchanged looks, silently agreeing before Steve uttered, “alright.” 

With all of the miners surrounding the bed, they swiftly kneeled down on the floor in a half-moon around you before they began. 

Before Marc, Thor and Frank the furthest from you grabbed a hold of the blanket draped over you and began to tug it down and let it crumble below your feet, Matt and Miguel to your right gently prepared you and began to undo your confusion. 

Each of their touches were feathery in the beginning as their fingers ghosted over your frame. At first, it wasn’t even in that scandalous of places as Steve and Matt even continued to hold your hands long after the thin chemise you wore had been tugged at, the neckline pushed down to expose your boobs, heaving with every fierce breath you sucked in, and the skirts shoved up, letting the linen bunch well above your hips to uncover the place where the dizzying sensation peaked to unimaginable heights. 

When the first touch fluttered between your legs, your eyes swiftly flickered up to find Bucky and Steve’s directly to your left as the pleasure was one you’d never even thought possible. 

You rapidly melted into the bliss as lingering embarrassment faded away and you soon let them crack you open even further, folding up your legs to grant them all better access to your haven. 

Even before your eyes fluttered closed, the job of deciphering which hand belonged to who was an impossible task. Floating in the sea of touches, not a millimetre of your skin was left unexplored, and neither were your untouched holes as they all turned you so molten that at one point everyone had at least one finger warm within you at once. 

Four digits stretched out your lips and both gave your mouth something to drool around and also let your moans melt against their flesh. Three of them slipped in and worked in tandem to stretch out your virgin cunt. They’d even gotten you so relaxed that two managed to sneak a finger inside of your tight little ass, plugging you up completely.

And when the still unfamiliar high began to bubble within you and creep near, worry first began to billow out of you once more, though after some soothing sentences and an ask of trust, they carried you through the overwhelming ecstasy till you were trembling in their hands and begging them to grant you that gift one more time, like an addict, already craving that sweetness once again.  

ONE YEAR LATER

“Ah-ha-ha!” Thor’s jovial rumble was the first sign you got that any of the fellows had returned after a day at the mines, “come here, princess!” 

As he entered the cottage, arms spread out wide, he excitedly caught you in a hug and lifted you up as he swung you around till you became no more than an ethereal giggle in his hold. 

“Oh, no,” you complained light-heartedly through your laugh as his stale smell of sweat mixed with soot flooded your senses, “you’re so dirty!” you tried to glance down at your dress to see if any of the grime from the mine had transferred.

Letting out a chuckle as he only tightened his hold around your frame, “you love it,” he tilted his head out of the crook of your neck and planted a kiss to your lips. 

“You’re not–,” you continued your giggle even as his own mouth tried to smother the sound, “Thor, you need to bathe first.” 

“Oh, really?” he cocked his head and slyly narrowed his eyes, “you sure you don’t wanna repeat the welcome home you gave me yesterday where you couldn’t wait? I mean, I could barely get in the door before you had your lips on me, struggling to fit my balls inside that little mouth of yours?” 

His lips first pressed against your now hot cheek before they wandered across in a straight line down to your own, not simmering down his eagerness even as the rest of his fellow miners began to filter into the cabin. 

“Oh, so that’s why you ran ahead,” Marc’s sigh caused you to break the peck, “of course.” 

Still entangled in Thor’s strong arms, you glanced over at the familiar men who crossed the threshold and slowly began to set down their tools and peel off their muddy boots.  

“Heya, boys,” a warm bubble burst within you as you flashed them all a smile. Attempting to slip out of the burly hug, Thor still kept his palm interlocked in your own as you made your way around through the crowd and began to greet the others, “how was the mine today?”

“It was fine,” Frank muttered in your ear when you hugged him. 

And as your free arm lastly found Steve’s broad shoulder in an embrace, his low voice tickled the side of your neck as he exhaled, “hi Snow.”  

“Hi,” you pressed a soft kiss to his bearded cheek. 

As you retracted and let Thor pull you back against his warmth, Miguel asked, “so, what’s for dinner tonight?” as Thor leaned back against the sturdy dining table and dragged you with him, half planting you in his lap as he leaned you back against him. 

Though as the softness of your bottom came to rest against the miner’s pelvis, a palpable hardness distracted you even through the layers of your dress, “uhm, I’ve got a lentil stew going over the fire,” your breathing began to grow unsteady as he discreetly grinded you down against his desperation, “it should be done soon.” 

“Good,” Miguel smiled, haven not yet noticed the nefarious activities that had begun right under his own nose, “I’m starving.” 

“What else have you gotten up to today?” Matt asked as he sat down on the bench where Marc had already planted himself, “did you begin that book we were talking about?” 

“I–, uh, I started it, but I didn’t get that far,” your words became a struggle to form as you tried to fight through the fog Thor thrust you into, “ended up taking a nap instead.”

“Well, that’s good,” Bucky noted, “you were tossing and turning so much last–,” though his sentence then promptly crumbled as a soft whimper finally slipped out past your lips and drew his attention to the way Thor’s hands on your hips subtly rocked you down against him, “seriously?” he swiftly scalded him, “you couldn’t keep it in your pants for even two seconds?” 

“Right,” Thor scoffed, “like I'm the only one who’s desperate,” he then buried his grasp in your skirts and before you had the chance to protest, picked it up to prove his point. 

It was frankly a bit embarrassing how wet you already were, though when Thor grabbed ahold of your thighs and lifted you up, your back plastered against his chest as his hold on you spread you wide for all to see, your cunt couldn’t help but drool for them so fiercely that even the one furthest away from you could catch a glimpse of the glimmer glinting back at him in a lewd plea.  

“Hm…” Bucky hummed warmly as he kneeled down before you, though only let his palm come up to ghost against your inner thigh and didn’t grant you the sweet relief of petting your pussy as she cried out for his touch, “your Highness, are you sure it wasn’t something else you were doing all day while we were off at work?” 

“I–,” an airy chuckle innocently escaped your lungs, “what are you implying?” 

“Well, either you were too impatient to wait for us,” you sucked in a breath as his hand finally drifted up to offer your core the softest of pets, teasing you further into madness, “or just the mere sound of the front door opening got you dripping the way that you are right now…” 

“So, which is it, princess?” Frank smirked, arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall beside the fireplace, “are you a whore or is it just for us?” 

“You already know the answer to that…” you hazily smiled, though swiftly let out a whimper as Bucky removed his hand, denying you of any further pleasure. However, before you could part your lips in a complaint, Thor set you back down on your now wobbly feet. 

Your gaze found Steve’s as he took a seat beside Marc, unlike the rest of the men who began to swarm around you, their broad hands swiftly reaching for your dress. It nearly didn’t even get the chance to drop back down and cover you from how Thor had torn it up, before they nearly ripped it to shreds. 

And when no fabric was left to conceal your frame, your moment with your feet on the ground turned out to be more fleeting than you’d thought as both Frank and Miguel then shifted to stand behind you and their grasps found your form, first guiding your arms around their necks for support before they plucked you up. 

As Matt stepped up and seized your flaming cheeks to dip his lips down to yours, a whisper then washed over you as the sweet kiss ended, “can I have a taste?” and as your head began to nod, your nose momentarily nuzzled against his own before his knees buckled. 

Both Thor and Bucky enveloped a hand around your ankles, keeping you spread wide even as Matthew dropped down and made you squirm as his hot breath fanned across your glistening core. 

As your lips parted in a gasp, staring down at Matt as he dipped down to kiss your puffy pearl, in your periphery you just managed to spot how everyone’s free hand had found the tent in their pants, squeezing it for an ounce of relief as they watched you intently. 

When Matt’s tongue lapped through your petals, it wasn’t till he tilted his chin and sucked your clit into his mouth that your gaze fluttered up to find Marc’s across the room. 

“O-oh, fuck,” you moaned into the cottage, “I need–, I–, I need more–,” the plea left your lips as you tried to keep your stare lock. Though the love pecks felt incredible, it was bordering the line of crude torture, only tickling at your senses and not granting you the sweet relief the deepest depths of you yearned for so fiercely. 

It seemed like an eternity that Marc took to get up from his seat and actually cross the small room, though when he did, his palm briefly patted Matthew’s shoulder and caused the kisses to cease. 

“How much more, princess?” Marc asked as Matt got up and let him switch places. 

Though when your answer came in the form of your gaze dropping to his hard length, freed and heavy in his tight fist, one of the men holding you up murmured in your ear, “you want him to fuck you, huh? Is that what you want?” Frank’s deep timbre seeped directly into your bones as his lips dipped down to nip at your neck. 

“Uh-huh,” you nodded hazily, keeping your eyes glued as Marc stepped up and briefly swept the bulbous head of his cock through your folds. 

For a second, you thought it had been Marc himself who had slowly thrust his entirety inside of you, though in actuality when Miguel and Frank’s hold on you tightened, they’d been the ones to tilt your body just as the girth caught your entrance, and lower you down on it in one fell motion. 

“There you go, Snow,” Bucky breathed as your eyes fluttered at the stretch. Halting his palming of himself, Bucky’s hand soothingly swept up the length of you till it found your tit and cupped it gently, his calloused thumb stretching up to flick against your pebbly nipple and get your eyes to blink back open. 

Marc’s efforts were purposely slow and he gently began to warm you up for what you expected was in store. Though on one of his long and deep strokes, plunging all the way inside of your little pussy before yanking himself out completely, you only blinked and when your eyes fluttered back open, it wasn’t Marc’s cock that was buried deep within you, but instead the last man to join the fray. 

“S-Steve, o-oh!” your head tilted back slightly as his fat girth split you open. 

“Oh, how do you always feel better than I recall?” Steve groaned, the tip of him already bumping against your cervix. 

“It’s that fucking princess pussy,” Thor grunted, “I swear it’s like magic or something.” 

“No matter how many of us try and fit inside of you at once, we just can’t ruin you,” Miguel kissed your cheek, “you just snap right back and we have to stretch you all the way back out again.” 

Steve, Marc and Matt before you then took turns, fucking you slowly and building a rhythm till they became like a river, each of them only sinking in and letting their balls tap against your slick skin before they pulled back out and let the other one take a dive. As the silky pattern pushed you closer to the peak and made you dazed out of your mind, you stopped being able to tell who was fucking you when, as they all just flowed together and worked your body as one soul being. That was often how it was with your seven miners. In certain moments, they just became something else, something entirely different and much more ethereal than seven mortal men, but instead fused together into a sea of love that they let you float in. 

Once your first of many orgasms washed over you and rocked through your soul, your body was set back down, though only for a mere moment before Bucky picked you up into his arms and carried you with him as he lowered himself onto one of the long benches that stretched out on either side of the dining table. 

As he settled you atop of him and slipped inside your still throbbing cunt, your head tilted up in the direction of the men whose hard lengths were still glistening with your juices and your hands fluttered up to motion for them, grabbing for their girths, way before your fingers could reach them, though when they did, Steve didn’t let your touch linger on himself but instead plucked up your face and parted your lips with his cock, letting your hands take care of Matt and Marc on either side of him while he gently fucked your mouth. 

“Oh, shit,” Frank then appeared before you, wedging himself in beside Steve’s bulky form, “share some of that sugar,” his palm found your cheek and stroked it softly. As your lips left Steve with an audible pop, Frank’s fingers drifted up to bury themselves in your locks before he guided you to him and groaned as he finally felt you swallow his cock, “yes…”

However, what you didn’t expect was how Steve’s hand too fluttered up to tangle itself in the other side of your hair before they both took over your head’s movements, passing you back and forth between the both of them, though only granting themselves one long bob at a time.  

When a pair of fingers softly swept over the last of your holes, your eyebrows knit together at the familiar teasing. 

“What do you say, Snow?” you heard Thor utter from behind you as he brought his palm down to smack the curve of your ass, watching intently as Miguel’s fingertips rub against you, only shyly dipping inside the hole just above where Bucky split you open, “exactly how much more are you in the mood for today?”

And when you took your chance to catch your breath, you shot back your needy answer through your heaving intakes of air, “all of it.” 

It wasn’t till Miguel let out a gravelly groan that you knew which one had gotten the chance to claim your ass first. When a dollop of his spit landed upon your skin, his thumb wasted no time to soar up and rub it in, swiping over your little rosebud as it stretched to take his girth. 

The task of keeping up your attention to the four miners at your head became an impossible task as they gave your mouth a break for your breathless moans to flow freely and they instead came to your aid and helped guide your hands around to grant them all a bit of affection. 

With both of your holes snuggly filled up, you felt yourself near the edge once more, though it was Thor who pushed you over it as his hand coiled around your waist and snaked down to find your swollen clit in a lavish pattern. 

Though when you buried your face in the crook of Bucky’s neck and trembled between his and Miguel’s burly forms, Thor’s touch dissipated and though you half expected him to join the rest up top, it still didn’t manage to surprise you what he opted for instead. 

“Holy shit!” you shakily gasped, your palm nearly slapping Bucky in the chest as you felt Thor angle himself behind you and press his cock in beside Miguel’s, who’s dick was already more than enough for you to handle on its own. 

“Shh,” Bucky tilted your chin down for you to catch his eye, “don’t act like this is your first time, princess,” he kept his own pace selfish as the silky wall parting him from the rest grew thinner than ever, “you can take it,” his palm tapped your cheek lightly as he smiled at how you overcame the staggering sensation, “just as you always do.” 

And take it you did, soon gushing all over them as the three miners emptied themselves into your holes, pumping you full and leaving you a leaky mess for the remainder to enjoy while they all found a seat to relax in and watch you descend further into madness. 

It was Frank who then flipped your molten form around, planting himself on the very same bench, and twisted you around for your back to be melting down against his front. He slipped in effortlessly as the two loads that dripped out of your ass aided his fat girth as he buried himself completely, fucking the other miner’s cum that much deeper inside your utterly wrecked hole. 

“How’s she doing, huh?” Steve asked as he and Matthew stepped up between your parted legs, his fingers coasting down to spread open and inspect your pussy as it too leaked, “you think she can take a bit more? You think she can take on the two of us?” he briefly pumped two of his fingers into your quivering hole as he awaited your answer. 

“I–, you can try,” you panted, hazily blinking down at how Matt’s digits too came down between your thighs and began to draw rude patterns over your puffy pearl, “I don’t know if I can do it, but you can try.”

“Atta girl,” Matt flashed you a smile before each of their touches was traded out for something much more overwhelming. 

With Marc as the last one remaining above your head, he stayed patient and simply stood there, stroking your hair and even dipping down to press his lips to your cheek as your poor pussy struggled to take the two cocks your loves attempted to ease in there. Though, when your eyes widened at the eventual success, the man behind you only let you stare at the severe stretch a moment before he tilted your head back, supporting it with both of his hands as you caught on and parted your lips for him. 

As he fucked your face, one of his hands briefly swept down to your throat as he fed you more of his length and spotted how a dull bulge of him appeared each time you gagged around his girth. 

You felt as if you’d slipped into a trance by the time everyone had gotten the chance to cum inside your sweetness, yourself falling apart around them enough times that you lost count. Though even so, as you layed there, various burly men enveloping your half-continuous form in their warmth, your eyes blinked open and spotted the few who’d gotten the privilege to go first and how they’d at some time grown hard once again and were now pumping their cocks in their fists, with all of their greedy gazes glued on you.  

The seven miners always warned you to be careful while they were off at work and you were all alone in the secluded cottage. Even though it was located in the middle of the woods, they still advised you not to open the door for anyone, not even if their looks deceived you. 

You should have heeded those warnings the day when an old hag knocked at the cabin door, because she didn’t turn out to be just a sweet old lady as you had thought when you first spotted her through the window, dark cloak drawn up over her grey hair as she clutched onto a heavy basket of apples in one arm and thumped her free fist against the front door. 

All she’d asked for had been a sip of water, one your kindness couldn’t deny her of. 

Though your gravest mistake came when you accepted her seemingly kind offer of gratitude in the form of one of her apples, because when you sank your teeth into the crisp red fruit, the produce suddenly turned rotten in your grasp, granting you a brief glance of the truth, of the potent poison it withheld, before the effects took ahold and cast you into an eternal slumber. 

The enchanted sleep however wasn’t like the one you’d heard tales about as it in truth only shut down your body as the rest of your senses still stayed awake, alert and aware as ever to the things around you, though forever helpless to whatever could occur. 

When your dear miners returned that day, the sight that found them utterly broke them all. 

And when they discovered that you’d received a fate worse than death, a few of them had to lean on superstition in order to cope. 

Though superstition was what superstition often is, just a fairytale. 

No matter how many of them attempted to press their lips to yours, you stayed asleep as true love’s kiss turned out to be no more than a bedtime story. 

That’s how you ended up in a blossoming glen, not far from the cottage that had grown to become your home, encased in a glass coffin. 

But that’s also how he found you again…

Prince Billy had been on a hunting trip the day he stumbled over the clearing you rested in, his deepest desires he’d assumed forever lost, so perfectly on display for him in the middle of the woods and with no one to stop him from taking you with him back to his castle. You had been his fiancé after all, so if your fate as his wife included you being a little less of an active participant than you’d been previously, then so be it. He could be content with you as nothing but a living doll… in fact, perhaps the royal even preferred it… 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[chvoswxtch]

part five: the ghost from the past

[series masterlist] | [previous part] | [part six]

pairing: billy russo x fem!reader

summary: it's time to confront the ghost from the past, and the truth.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, explicit sexual content (minors dni), domestic violence, graphic violence & gore (this is a slasher people)

word count: 6.4k

a/n: welcome to act three. I want to reiterate that this is a slasher. if gore is not your thing, or even reading about it makes you squeamish, this is your final warning before you get into this part. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Billy’s penthouse was spacious and luxurious, a far cry from the simple apartment you could never return to. It looked like it had been ripped right out of a page of some high end magazine, from the neutral color scheme to the expensive looking furniture, the minimalist decor and artwork, and the large floor to ceiling windows that had a dazzling view of the Manhattan skyline.

You couldn’t see the beauty in this city anymore. 

Staring out the windows, all your brain could detect from the magnificent sight was the impending threat weaving through the villainous shadows, coming closer and closer. As you stood in front of the thick glass, you almost didn’t recognize your own faint reflection in it. You swore to yourself you would never feel helpless again, but that’s exactly what you felt tonight. 

Footsteps sounded behind you, growing louder the closer they came, until they stopped and Billy cleared his throat. When you turned around to face him, he held his phone in his right hand and regarded you with a cautious look, holding it up slightly.

“They found John’s body.”

You should’ve felt sad. You should’ve felt something. But you didn’t. Billy was eyeing you warily, trying to decipher your reaction, or rather lack of one. He didn’t know if you were simply still in shock, and you didn’t know either. You didn’t know what to feel. You weren’t quite numb, but you weren’t raw.

“He’s not gonna stop.”

Billy didn’t break eye contact with you. His apprehension shifted into determination, and he took a step closer, his tone unwavering when he spoke.

“I’m not either.”

You wanted to ask why. Why Billy cared so much. Why he was risking his own life to protect yours. Why was he still here and not running for the hills. But before you could voice any of those questions, he placed his palm on the small of your back and gave you a gentle nudge in the direction of the expansive kitchen.

“C’mon, I’ll make you a drink.”

A few moments later, he held out a small glass towards you, with one clutched in his other hand, both generously filled with a dark amber liquid.

“I don’t have tequila, but I do make a decent Old Fashioned.”

The faintest of a smile graced your lips as you nodded, reaching out with your bandaged hand for it.

“Thanks.”

The strong scent hit your nose before your tongue, making the flavor that much more intense as it slid down your throat, turning into molten lava in your stomach. There was a faint citrusy aftertaste from the orange slice floating between two square ice cubes.

As he took a sip from his own glass, Billy watched you intently while you glanced around the kitchen, taking in the black granite countertops and dark marble flooring. After following your line of sight for a moment, he eventually looked at you again with a small amused smile and chuckled. Turning your attention towards him, a look of confusion settled over your features.

“What?”

“I can hear the judgment on your face.”

Granting him another tiny smile, you shook your head slowly, glancing around again.

“It’s…nice”

Billy lightly chuckled, rubbing his hand down his bearded face.

“You never fail to keep me humble, sweetheart.”

“Sorry. If I spent years in a tent in the desert, I’d probably want a fancy penthouse too.”

Billy tilted his head to the side slightly, tapping his finger against his glass. His dark brown eyes slowly moved around the space, like he was taking in his own home for the first time. He had a thoughtful expression on his sharp features, and you were about to say something to break the silence when he finally spoke.

“I grew up in a group home.”

Billy met your eyes again, and he could see the shock and surprise in them. That was the last thing you had been expecting him to say, and he could see it. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. Made me who I am. Made me more tenacious in goin’ after I wanted, no matter what it took. And now, everything I want is right here.”

He gestured around loosely with his hand holding onto his glass, and you weren’t sure if it was a coincidence or not that he ended that statement while looking right at you.

“Everything?”

Your voice was quiet when you asked him that, but it sounded loud in your ears due to the silence in the grand space. Billy didn’t look away from you. He gave you a faint nod of his head, and there was a look in his dark eyes you couldn’t quite read, but it made you shiver.

“Almost.”

Maybe it was the grief. Maybe it was because you were scared. Maybe it was because Billy was the only person you had in this city right now, in the whole world it felt like. But you felt vulnerable, exposed to the chill of loss and bite of terror that nipped at your bones that had been stripped bare. You were exhausted, not just from the attack, but from running and looking over your shoulder for so long. The emotional burden of your past and present was growing so heavy it felt like you couldn’t breathe. There was this massive weight on your chest, and all you wanted to do was let go, just for a little while.

Feeling the familiar warm sting pricking at the corners of your eyes, you set your drink down on the counter and surged forward, and Billy didn’t hesitate to abandon his own drink to pull you in with both arms. For the first time in so long, you felt safe. You felt secure enough to let the facade drop, letting all those pent up emotions out, flowing freely to soak through his shirt. You didn’t have to pretend with Billy, and you hadn't realized just how exhausting it had been to keep holding up your own carefully crafted mask. 

Billy didn’t owe you anything. He had every reason to stay out of this, and every reason to leave you to fend for yourself. But he didn’t. He chose to be here. He chose to do all of this. And despite everything, he was choosing you, and you couldn’t wrap your head around that.

“I’m sorry-’ “Don’t. It’s alright.”

Pulling back slightly, Billy gently cupped your face in his hands, brushing the tears away from your cheeks. There was no pity in his gaze, no flicker of regret or apprehension. The tone in his deep voice was firm, and the cadence was smooth as ever as he delivered reassurance you hadn’t even realized you were craving. 

“You ain’t gotta hide. Not from me.”

All the conflicting emotions rushing through you currently were so overwhelming, and so many of them were negative.

You just wanted to feel something good.

Staring up into his dark brown eyes, searching them for answers to questions you didn’t even know how to ask, a wave of longing crashed over you, carrying you away from the logical side of your brain to float in the middle of just pure feeling. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, you swiftly pulled Billy down to kiss him. It wasn’t soft or tender; it was deep and needy, insatiable with a hunger only he could satisfy in that moment. It didn’t grow steadily like an ember being wafted beneath perfectly positioned kindling in a fireplace, controlled and contained. It blazed all at once like a lit match being tossed onto gasoline soaked wood, erupting in a hasty bonfire, burning hot and high enough to reach the heavens.

Billy allowed himself a moment to enjoy tasting your lips before abruptly breaking the kiss. He pulled back to catch your eyes, both of you already lightly panting.

“Sweetheart-”

Whatever in his voice was supposed to sound like a warning or concern just sounded like barely concealed desire, and it fueled your need further. You didn’t want rational thinking. You didn’t want figuring out the next step. You wanted out of your own head. 

“Please.”

Billy couldn’t deny you a damn thing if he tried, certainly not when you begged in that breathless voice. Immediately his hands tightened their grip on your waist, and he pulled you flush against his body. With all the consent he needed to continue, he leaned in and kissed you like he was trying to steal the very elixir of life from your lungs. He backed you up until your back hit a wall, parting the seam of your lips with his tongue, demanding entry. His hands were everywhere, roaming over your lower back down to your ass to squeeze firmly, slipping under your shirt to brush against the soft skin of your waist, grabbing your hips once again to lift you without warning.

Instinctively your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and one of your hands slipped through his gelled back raven strands that were surprisingly soft instead of stiff, while your other kept a tight grip on the back of his neck. Billy caressed your tongue sensually with his own, his teeth gnashed against yours in hunger, and he nipped at your bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood. He blindly carried you down the hall towards his bedroom, bumping into walls and doors along the way, kicking his bedroom door open with his foot.

He refused to let go of you or break the kiss, keeping one arm securely wrapped around your back while his other reached for the bed, laying you down beneath him as he instantly climbed on top of you. The two of you seemed to be lost in a dark red cloud of lust, driven purely by instinctual and primal desire, in a frenzy to satisfy your mutual craving.

Billy’s bedroom floor was quickly decorated in each of your articles of clothing, until there was nothing left separating his heated bare skin from yours. His firm chest brushed against your sensitive nipples when he covered your body with his own again, and it drew a soft noise from the back of your throat. He forced your thighs apart with his knee as his teeth grazed over your pulse point before sinking them into your neck, making you grip his biceps and let out a sharp gasp, arching your back slightly in the process. 

His warm tongue snaked out to glide over your flesh, soothing the sting of his bite, causing you to shiver and goosebumps to prickle your skin. Billy reached down between the two of you, grasping his achingly hard cock, teasingly gliding his thick girth through your soaked folds to coat himself in your wetness. He pressed his forehead against yours, and his pupils were blown open so wide with lust that his eyes looked black as night.

“I’m not gonna be gentle.”

A shudder went through you at the husky warning in his deep voice, and a rush of excitement tingled in your nervous system at the potential of that promise. You didn’t need gentle. You didn’t need slow and sweet and romantic. You needed to be fucked, hard. So hard you wouldn’t be able to think about anything else other than him. So rough you wouldn’t be able to feel anything other than him. You needed this.

“I don’t want you to be.”

As soon as those words left your lips, something in Billy snapped, and he transformed right before your eyes. He wasted no time in forcefully pushing his hips forward, filling you in one swift thrust, nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs as he abruptly buried himself deeply within your snug warmth. He didn’t give either of you a moment to adjust or savor anything. Pulling your legs around his waist, allowing him to angle his hips and thrust even deeper, Billy quickly started to fuck you at a brutal pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Billy grit out through his teeth, his face contorted in absolute hedonism. He tore moan after moan from your parted lips with every powerful snap of his hips, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the spacious bedroom, almost rivaling your vocals. Billy grunted in your ear, gripping onto your hips and thighs, digging his blunt fingernails into your skin, grasping at whatever he could and embedding himself in every inch of you. His teeth left several more marks on your neck and shoulder, decorating your skin in bruises like he was draping you in precious jewels.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart? Huh? This what you needed?”

Billy brought his hand up to wrap tightly around your throat, applying just enough pressure to capture your full attention. It didn’t send you into a panic like Roman’s hand around your throat used to. Billy wasn’t squeezing hard enough to hurt you. He wasn’t trying to hurt you. He was giving you what you wanted, what you asked for. Billy was in control, but he was willingly submitting to your desire.

His forehead was pressed to yours, and he was staring down into your eyes that were wide with raw desperation, reveling in the way that your mouth was hanging open, nothing but echoes of the pleasure that he was bringing you leaving them. All you could do was nod, but that was enough for Billy. He wanted more. He needed more.

“Say it.”

His voice came out in a low growl, and your nails sank into his back in response, leaving your own crescent shaped marks behind in his skin that earned a soft hiss from Billy.

“Y-Yes…yes…”

He nuzzled his nose against yours, making a low sound in his throat, capturing your top lip in a messy kiss.

“Good girl.”

You didn’t know you could be affected by two little words so much, but the praise sent electric shocks right down to your core, and the only signal your brain could send to the rest of your body was more more more. 

“Billy-”

His name left your lips in a strangled moan that seemed to get caught in your throat, and the sinful sweet sound made Billy’s cock twitch inside you as he continued to piston his hips. 

“Say it again.”

“Billy-“

This time it didn’t get stuck. It erupted from the depth of your chest, carrying with it a note of exigency interwoven in a clear plea. Hearing it again made something dark sparkle in Billy’s eyes, his top teeth raking over his bottom lip before he leaned in to drag his tongue along the underside of your jaw.

“That’s my girl. You need to come, don’t you sweetheart? This pretty pussy needs to come all over my cock, doesn’t it?” 

Managing to slip his hand between your bodies, Billy’s fingers found your sensitive clit and began rubbing furiously back and forth, making you jolt and cry out as your jaw went slack. He was relentless, fucking you hard and fast without mercy while rapidly strumming your clit at an inhuman speed, causing a tremor to spread in your thighs.

The relief you so desperately needed was right there, just within your reach. You clawed at Billy’s back, the only way you could communicate for him to not stop. Your moans were incoherent, rising in pitch and volume, becoming more and more breathless as that balloon of pleasure grew and expanded within you, taking up space in your ribcage and pressing against your lungs.

“Be a good girl and come for me. Don’t you dare hold back. Let it all go. Let the whole goddamn city hear you. C’mon, pretty girl. Let me have it.”

When that balloon finally burst, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head, and all at once, the tightly coiled tension in your body melted away into pure bliss, leaving you feeling completely boneless and relaxed. The waves of ecstasy that had been built up catapulted you into the stars when they finally crashed down, causing you to explode like a firework, raining down in tiny burning sparks of white hot gratification.

Billy let out a feral grunt in your ear as his hips stuttered, slamming into you hard one final time, tightening his grasp on your neck with a groan of relief when he reached his own climax hearing the way you called his name like a sacred prayer. It was the most intense orgasm you’d ever had, shattering you into a million pieces in his silk sheets. 

The bedroom felt ten degrees hotter, and it smelled like sweat and sex and Billy’s expensive cologne. He nuzzled his nose against your neck as he slowly let go of it, the coarseness of his beard rubbing against your sensitive bitten skin making you shiver. His lips were considerably more gentle as they trailed along your jawline, his voice murmuring sweet nothings into your ear that your fuzzy brain couldn’t focus on at the moment. 

All you could do was feel.

»»———　　———««

“Billy?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you say six cameras?”

Billy’s hand that was slowly carding through your hair paused, and you lifted your head from where it was laying on his chest to look up at him. His lips parted before a furrow nestled between his dark brows.

“What?”

“Earlier, at the hospital. You said there were six cameras in the apartment. I thought there were only five.”

Billy looked at you silently for a moment, that same indecipherable look in his eyes from the kitchen. Softening the creases along his forehead, he brought his other hand up to run through his raven strands, pushing them back into place with a faint shrug.

“I meant five. I don’t know why I said six. There was a lot goin’ on, guess I got confused.”

A faint buzzing noise abruptly sounded on the nightstand, and Billy glanced over at his phone, turning his body slightly to pick it up and read the notification before muttering under his breath.

“Shit.”

“What is it?”

When he sat up, you had to untangle yourself from him, and you looked at him curiously as you sat up too, holding the sheets over your naked chest. Billy typed something on his phone with a serious looking expression before locking it and turning to look at you. 

“I gotta head to the office right quick.”

“What? Right now?”

Glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand, the red glowing letters showed that it was eleven thirty at night. Billy gave you an apologetic look before he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, softly cupping your face in his hand. 

“Downside of ownin’ your own company sweetheart, you gotta be available at all times to put out the fires. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Watching as his naked body slipped out of bed to start getting dressed, you glanced down at the silk sheets you were tangled in for a moment, feeling a pit of unease at the thought of being left alone. Your mind started to wander, and in a matter of seconds, you were spiraling with worst case scenarios. Lifting your head to look up at Billy, you hesitated to ask the question you didn’t know if you wanted the answer to or not.

“Does this…does it have anything to do with-”

Billy immediately paused in the middle of zipping up his pants, turning his head to look at you. He could see the worry written clear as day on your face. Pressing his knee onto the bed, he reached out and cupped your face in his hand once again, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Hey, everything is alright, yeah? Just relax, sweetheart. Don’t worry your pretty little head. I’ll be back in an hour, tops. I promise.”

»»———　　———««

In the midst of rummaging around in Billy’s fridge, you heard the front door to the penthouse open and close in the distance. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, you saw that it wasn’t even midnight yet. Billy hadn’t even been gone twenty minutes. Closing the doors of the stainless steel fridge, you started to walk out of the kitchen, your bare feet padding along the cold floor as you rounded the corner and headed towards the foyer.

“That was fast. I guess it wasn’t that-”

The second your eyes landed on him, you froze. Fear trickled through your nervous system, leaving your limbs numb, and your feet seemingly rooted to the floor. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Roman’s voice had a hint of humor in it, but his face showed no signs of amusement. His eyes roamed over your figure, slowly looking you up and down, taking in your bare feet and legs, and the wrinkled white dress shirt covering your body that clearly did not belong to you. When his intense stare landed on it, the edge of his top lip curled faintly in a snarl, and then he quickly met your shocked and terrified expression again.

When you had first met him, you’d thought Roman had the most beautiful ocean blue eyes. But then you’d seen them cold and full of rage so many times that they lost their beauty. They no longer looked like two sparkling sapphires; they made you feel like you were staring into the eye of a perilous storm. 

He’d grown out his light brown hair, and it was messily slicked back, a few curls sticking out around his neck. Instead of the usual clean shaven face you were used to seeing that made him look deceptively harmless, he’d grown out a mustache and the facial hair on his chin. Somehow it made him look older, and more menacing. He didn’t look like the unassuming nice guy you’d once believed him to be anymore. He looked more like the volatile angry man you knew he was.

“Roman-”

“So this is what you wanted, huh? This is what you left me for?”

He completely disregarded the fear trembling in your voice, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you in disdain, gesturing around to the luxurious penthouse with his hand.

“You were never such a shallow bitch before, Cassia.”

“That’s not my name anymore.”

A flicker of surprise registered in Roman’s eyes when you snapped back at him like that. You had never done that before. It was just a split second of surprise, but it quickly became clear that it only incensed him further, and he clenched his jaw as he took a step forward.

“I don’t give a shit what your name is now. You can change your name a thousand times baby, but you’ll never be able to change the fact that you’re mine.”

Swallowing thickly, you clenched your hands into tight fists, ignoring the sting of the pressure it inflicted on the stitches in your palms.

“How did you find me?”

“Oh I’ve been looking for you for three years, baby. I never stopped. Had a little help, too. And last week, I got a picture of you with two words. New York.”

Roman had a smile on his face, but it wasn’t warm or loving. It was a predatory smile a wolf would give a sheep. The knowledge that someone had sent him your picture and told him where you were filled you with confusion. Had he hired people to locate you? You had been so careful for the last three years, at least you thought you had, but someone managed to find you. 

And it was a terrifying thought that you had no idea who. 

Someone had been watching you, for God only knew how long. A sinking stone of uneasiness settled in the pit of your stomach with that knowledge. But Roman didn’t allow you a second to overanalyze every moment of the last three years to find the mistake that led to this one, to find the face that had been lurking in the background of your new life. He took another step forward, and the inauthentic smile slipped from his face like it had never existed.

“You’re coming home with me, where you belong. Tonight.”

There was an imbalance of emotions warring within you. Even though you were terrified of the man standing in front of you, there was an overwhelming hatred and anger you felt towards him. You weren’t going to cower, not this time. You weren’t going to willingly submit to him and the fate he had planned for you, not like you used to. The old version of you he knew was gone, and you were going to make goddamn sure he knew she was never coming back.

“No.”

Roman looked genuinely taken aback by your refusal, his anger faltering for a moment with shock. You’d never told him no. You’d never stood up to him. But your defiance clearly enraged him. 

“Excuse me?”

“I said no.”

Roman stared at you like you’d grown two heads. His face was a murky mess of perplexity and irritation. He let out a harsh exhale through his flared nostrils.

“I don’t want to fight with you-”

The audacity he had to say that instantly set you off, and you didn’t allow him to finish his blatant lie.

“Yes you do. Because it makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it? Hurting me? Makes you feel like a big, strong man? Is that why you killed them, Roman?”

The question seemed to reduce his vexation momentarily to pure ignorance. His face twisted up in puzzlement that was entangled with annoyance.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You murdered four people, you sick fuck. You’ve gone completely psychotic-“

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about! I didn’t kill anyone-”

The accusations seemed to piss Roman off, lighting the short fuse on his temper that was sure to explode at any second. You weren’t sure why he was denying it here right in front of you when he’d already confessed over the phone, but you were done playing his bullshit games. 

“You want me to leave here with you? You’re gonna have to kill me too you fucking coward. Because that is the only way in hell I would ever go back to Woodsboro with you, you sorry ass mama’s boy.” 

Immediately, Roman lunged for you with a growl. He grabbed you by the arm and struck his fist against your face hard, sending you to the floor. Pain instantly started to throb in your cheekbone, but when Roman grabbed you by your hair to tug you up to your feet, you mustered all the strength you could to throw a punch of your own, your knuckles colliding with his nose resulting in a sickening crunch.

He let go of your hair and stumbled backwards with a loud grunt of pain, clutching at his nose. Pulling his hand away to look down at the evidence of your defiance coating his fingers, Roman turned his head to look at you in shock and rage as blood leaked from his nose.

“You fucking bitch.”

Grabbing you once again by the throat, he punched you right in the stomach, nearly knocking the breath out of you, and then he struck you across the face again, sending you backwards to crash through a glass coffee table that shattered into several glittering pieces. Pain shot through so many different parts of your body, you couldn’t even tell which part of you was injured the worst. Roman was on top of you in a flash, wrapping both of his hands around your neck, gritting his teeth as he started to choke you.

Your eyes went wide with panic, and you struggled to breathe, your hands frantically clawing at his arms and reaching up to grab at the collar of his shirt, and eventually his face. He pulled his head back and away from your reach, letting out a grunt as he lifted your head to slam it back down against the floor, causing a throb to resonate in the back of your skull. In a split second, you were transported right back to the night you ended up in the hospital.

It was all too familiar. Roman holding you down, staring down at you with toxic rage in his eyes, his hands restricting all air flow to your brain as he choked the life out of you. Somehow, you’d ended right back up in the place you’d worked so hard to avoid. This time, there were no neighbors to call the police on your behalf. This time, no one was coming to save you. Blackness was slowly closing in on your vision, like the Iris shot of an old movie, signaling the end. 

But this wasn’t your ending.

Blindly feeling around on the floor beside you, glass shards got stuck in the gauze that was still wrapped around your injured palm, and your fingertips brushed against a large jagged piece. Grabbing it tightly in your hand, you used every ounce of remaining strength to drive it into Roman’s thigh, and he roared in pain as he let go of your throat, looking down at where you’d just stabbed him. Taking advantage of the moment, you grabbed one of the heavy decorative pieces that had been on the coffee table and struck him across the face with it. Roman fell over onto his side with a grunt, bringing his hand up to his temple that now had a gash in it.

Immediately you began to cough and suck in deep gasps of air, clutching at your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a revolver tucked into the waistband of Roman’s jeans, and your eyes widened with panic when you saw him start to reach for it. Scrambling to your feet, ignoring the sharp sting of glass shards scratching and piercing your bare skin, you took off running towards the bedroom, slamming the door shut  and locking it before dashing into the large walk in closet. Billy had to have a gun somewhere. You began searching through drawers and cabinets in a frenzy, searching for a gun or a knife, anything.

As you pulled open one of the bottom drawers of a dresser and started to search through it, a flash of white caught your eye, and your breath hitched in your throat.

Grasping the chin of the mask, you tugged on it to pull it out from underneath a thick piece of black fabric. It was the very mask you’d seen earlier. The white rubber stretched in a ghastly expression, emphasized by black soulless pits for eyes and a mouth. Your breathing grew heavy as you grasped the black fabric, and your blood ran cold spotting a tiny shard of emerald green ceramic embedded in it.

All the color drained from your face in horror, the truth spreading confusion and betrayal through your bloodstream like a poison. 

It wasn’t Roman.

It was Billy.

You didn’t have time to process that revelation before a loud banging started sounding on the bedroom door, Roman’s angry voice yelling out your name as he tried to break it down. Your eyes frantically darted around the large walk in closet. You still hadn’t found a gun, and you were panicking when the glint of something caught your eye. On one of the shelves, a diamond shaped thick piece of glass sat proudly, engraved with Billy’s name and the details of the award. It looked heavy, and the pointy tip appeared sharp.

Hearing the wood start to splinter under the weight and force of Roman’s relentless effort to break it down, you snapped out of your panic and shock, and in a split second, you made a decision. Pulling the black robe on hastily along with the mask, and the gloves that had been balled up in the middle of the fabric, you stood and swiped the award off the shelf. Slipping out of the large walk-in closet, you pulled the door shut just slightly, leaving an intentional crack in it. Just as the bedroom door had burst open, you’d snuck into the dark bathroom, hiding in the corner behind the door, the black robe keeping you concealed in the shadows.

Roman’s footsteps were heavy and angry, and you could even hear how hard he was breathing.

“You stupid whore. Where you gonna run now, huh? You got nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. You’re locked in here with me baby.”

You kept your breathing as quiet as possible, and the mask aided in muffling the sound. A humorless chuckle sounded from Roman, and you heard his footsteps leading him exactly where you wanted him.

“You know, you can pretend all you want, but you haven’t changed. You forget baby, I know you. Better than anyone. You haven’t changed, and you haven’t learned a goddamn thing. You’re still that stupid little girl, always running for the fucking closet-”

Roman kicked the door of the closet open, aiming his revolver towards where he thought your cowering form would be. A crease of confusion nestled between his brows as his stormy blue eyes glanced around, finding the space empty. Gripping the door handle in his other hand, he yanked it forward and pointed the gun towards the corner behind it, but to his annoyance, you weren’t there. Shoving the door against the wall, he angrily looked around the large walk-in closet, looking over spots he might have missed while blinded by rage.

Silently slipping out of the bathroom, you slowly stalked towards him, the thick glass heavy in your gloved hand. Roman was standing in the doorway of the closet, his broad shoulders taking up most of the frame, his back to you. Clutching the award tight in your hand, you raised it slowly, and with a feral yell, you drove the sharp end right into his back, making him drop the revolver and shout in pain as he reached behind him. As soon as he turned around, you let out another yell as you struck him across the head with it as hard as you could, knocking him down to the floor.

Blood immediately started to flow from a fresh cut above his eyebrow, and Roman grabbed at his head as he turned onto his back, grunting in pain. But as soon as he looked up and saw you standing there in the black robe and Ghostface mask, the bloodied award grasped in your gloved hand, his blue eyes widened, and his face paled. You saw an emotion paint his features you’d never seen in Roman before.

Fear.

Power surged through your body, electrifying every nerve ending inside you. Grasping the mouth of the mask, you slowly pulled it up and over your head, staring down at him in pure hatred, your chest heaving from how heavy you were breathing. The anger pumping through your bloodstream was more intense than anything you had ever felt. Standing above Roman, staring down at him and seeing him being the one cowering on the floor looking scared, it awoke something dark in you that had always laid dormant, waiting for this moment.

“I have changed, Roman. The girl you knew, is dead. I fucking killed her.”

Roman slowly held his bloodied hands up, his wide blue eyes staring up at you as he began to plead.

“Cass…baby…just let me-”

“And I am not locked in here with you. You’re locked in here with me. Only one of us is walking out of this room alive, and it is not fucking going to be you.”

Before he could say another word, you dropped to your knees and struck him with the thick glass again. Climbing on top of him, you let out another feral scream as you started to strike him, over and over and over, unleashing every ounce of pent up rage that had been festering within you, bubbling up to this eruption. Everything all came rushing back at once. Every sharp sting from a slap, every taste of blood in your mouth from his fist connecting with your face, every broken bone from being thrown to the ground, the physical and metaphorical loss of your voice when he crushed your windpipe, the paralyzing fear that had caused you to uproot your life and change everything about yourself, the isolation that had come with it, and the fear for your fucking life; all of it fueled your unhinged retaliation.

You didn’t stop. Not when he begged, not when he held his hands up in defense, not when he cried out in pain. He had never stopped, not with you. You repaid him in the exact same ruthlessness he’d always shown you, until your arms ached and the face you used to be terrified of in your nightmares was reduced to a disfigured pile of meat and bone.

Dropping the award to the ground with a loud thud, your eyes were wild and your pupils were blown wide open, like a feral animal after an attack. Your chest was heaving from the physical exertion and your lungs felt like they were on fire. A twisted sense of euphoria spread through you like a wildfire, and that heavy weight of fear that had been suffocating you was finally gone.

A sudden noise made your head snap up. Billy was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his gun grasped tightly in his right hand. His dark brown eyes glanced down at the lifeless body beneath you and the puddle of blood surrounding the carnage. His gaze slowly wandered over the sight of you in the black robe, the Ghostface mask forgotten on the floor behind you, the bloodied award of his on the floor beside you, and the splatters of deep maroon on your face and in your hair. 

When he finally met your gaze, he was struck by the untamed rage burning in your eyes.

He slowly slipped his gun into his holster, raising his hands up in a show of surrender. But he didn’t look scared. Staring up at him, you saw a flicker of what looked like…pride, in his eyes. He was staring at you in awe, like you were the most magnificent creature he’d ever seen. All of a sudden, his lips slowly spread into a wicked grin.

“I knew you had it in you, sweetheart.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @ferns-fics @danzer8705 @to-thelakes @simonsgirl @sweetserendipity65 @zomtart @day-dreaming-goddess @caroblogsthings @thomasshelbyswife @snowkestrel @hallowedtangerine @ameliaswife @dreadfulxives18 @ebsmind @lllla717 @slumnit @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @nolita-fairytale @oliviaewl @r1kk @unlikelystarlightcowboy @imperihoe-writes @dumb-fawkin-bitch @merc12-us @moonyinthestars @sweetttart@i-caught-a-pidge @fruityfucker @strangerfromketterdam @whosprettynow

»— if you'd like to be notified of updates, you can find it here! -> taglist signup

»— if you wanna get in the spooky slutty mood, listen here! -> the manhattan murders soundtrack

[americasass81]

Go check these fantastic fics folks. Bound to be something here for everyone.

Masterlist

Updated 2/10/25

What’s New?

Mine to Ruin - (8/23/24)

Rightfully His - (9/4/24)

Lovestruck - (9/13/24)

Weekend Loving - (9/26/24)

What do you Desire - (10/10/24)

Love Of My Life - (10/24/24)

Mine - Part 5 - (11/8/24)

Where do we go from here - (12/9/24)

Second Chances - (2/10/25)

Coming Soon

Mine - Epilogue

Chrome & Leather - Chapter 19

Civil War Brooklyn - Chapter 18

Marvel Series

Smut & Fluff

Dark Fics

Challenges

Taglists are open! Please let me know if you want to be added to a series taglist or permanent taglist. See link in bio.

A/N: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OLD.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps or third party sites. If you see my work anywhere other than MY Tumblr or AO3 then it was stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission as this is MY work. 🚫🚫

Marvel Series, Smut & Fluff, Dark Series and Challenge Moodboard by @fictional-affairs

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Angel of Small Death

Part 8 of my Halloween mini series!

Dark! Frank Castle, Dark Priest! Billy Russo, Dark Priest! Matt Murdock.

Warnings: Blasphemy, death, guilt, corruption, threesome, oral (f/m) smut.

A/N: It's only gonna get worse

Father Heath is found dead the next morning.

His body, in such a state of decomposition that the doctor had dissuaded you from viewing it.

You were glad for it, you didn’t think you could look upon another dead body, ever since you’d been forced to assist with the ones that perished in the mysterious plague, the very idea of a corpse made you ill.

Father Russo is kind enough to visit you, in your office after the body has been found. His arms are tight around your body, quiet whispers, promises, that everything would be well.

You’re distressed, crying into his shoulder, he looks pained to see you this way, but all you feel is the helplessness you experienced not too long ago.

It had apparently been an accident, in the pouring rain, Father Heath had slipped, and fell head first from one of the outlying granges, used to keep some of the grains safe and dry in the wet season.

It comforts you, that his death was most likely quick. Billy reassures you that he most likely felt absolutely no pain in his last moments.

You hold Vigil that evening in the church. It’s the first time in a while that the rain doesn’t fall, and in the morning, funeral mass is held.

You sit among your sisters, listening to them sniffle, watching as Matt delivers the final sermon.

His voice is calm, soothing, you close your eyes and simply listen to him. It helps a lot, and when he’s done, you follow behind as they take the coffin to its final resting place in the cemetery.

You sit in the bathing pool for hours after, examining the sprigs of floating lavender that pass you by, thinking about the inevitability of death, and the ways that your actions hold the shape of your afterlife.

.

.

.

“Bless me Father, for my sins.” You murmur, lifting your rosary, to kiss the crucifix.

“Speak your burdens, and they shall be heard.” A familiar voice responds, differently cadenced than Matt’s.

“It has been one week since my last confession, and though I have atoned for my sins, I still feel the weight of them.”

“It is normal to feel this way. Tell me what troubles you.”

Billy.

You swallow.

“I have allowed myself to sin carnally, and…I find that my body yearns for it.”

He makes a low hum of contemplation from the other side of the wall. You grip your skirts, trying to ignore the way he makes you feel.

“What do you yearn for?” He asks.

“Touch, Father, I yearn to be touched.”

You hear rustling from the other side of the wall.

“By yourself?”

“N-no- by… others.”

“Speak their names, give them power.”

You feel your heart kick in surprise at his debauched words.

“Father Murdock, Father Russo…” You swallow, “Mister Castle.”

“And what would you have them do to you?” Father Russo asks next.

“Is… discussing this appropriate?”

“Of course… How can I help you if I do not know the extent of your fantasies?”

You pause for a second, deep in thought.

“Their hands, their mouths, I can’t stop thinking about how they would feel on my skin, pressed against my body.”

“Good. Tell me where.”

“Where?” You stutter out.

“Don’t be shy, tell me what you think about.”

There are so many things, you don’t know where to begin.

“I want to kiss them, feel their lips on mine, move between them. I want bruising, punishing kisses, and soft, sweet kisses and hungry, devouring ones too.”

“All of them? At once?”

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yes,” You almost moan, pulling your skirts up, desperate to relieve some of the ache in your body brought upon by speaking about this topic.

“I want them to lie with me, take care of me, touch each part of me.”

On the other side of the wooden wall, you hear a slow groan.

Did he like your words too? Did he agree with them? Did he want to see your fantasies fulfilled?

“I need you to touch yourself now,” Billy utters on a pained breath, “Reach down, and ease that feeling inside of you.”

You don’t need any more persuasion, reaching down, cupping your heated flesh, fingers delving right to your sticky center.

You let out a soft gasp, your head thuds against the wood as it falls back.

“That’s it, just like that.” Billy guides.

You bite down on your bottom lip, sighing, thinking about the things you might let them do if they pleased, anything to feel that release.

“Father Russo.” You gasp out, shaking your head, needing more than your fingers could give.

He groans.

You hear the distinct sound of hinges squeaking as a door opens, and then movement, before a little knock on your side of the confessional.

Your lips part in surprise, you right yourself hastily, leaning forward, you unlatch the door to find Billy looking down at you with hungry eyes.

He steps in, closing the door behind him, before moving to stand in front of you.

What if someone had seen him? You don't get the chance to say anything before he lowers himself to his knees in front of you.

“You make me, insatiable, little lamb, and I will not be denied any longer.”

His eyes on yours, he reaches under your skirts, warm hands gliding along your legs gently, working their way up… up… until his fingers curl on the edges of your undergarment. 

“I'll make you feel good.” He promises, when he notices your hesitation, and you swallow, finding the words to protest.

“We shouldn’t.” You try softly, wondering why you picked now to suddenly defy him.

The corner of his mouth tilts up.

“Don't you trust me?” Billy asks softly.

You swallow, nodding automatically. Despite being apart for years, you knew that he was always someone you could depend on. There had never been a moment where you wondered if he was capable of leading you astray, and you weren't about to start now.

He tugs your undergarment down your legs, and you stiffen when he pushes your legs apart to settle between them.

He makes a soft hum of appreciation, before leaning in to kiss your thighs.

The sensation is so soft, so careful, that you feel your own fragility, tipping your head back, letting out a little gasp as his mouth pays you careful attention.

Is this what Eve felt? When she sinned for the very first time? How euphoric, how worshipped her experience might have been and you think you understand her just a little bit more.

When his tongue presses between your thighs, you have that aching sensation of familiarity, mixed with the sweet burning of ecstasy in your head.

You gasp, saying his name as pleasure rolls over you, the filthy sound of his tongue exploring you reaching your ears.

When his movement increases, you feel your body fight to succumb, muscles going pliant, thighs shaking as they try to comprehend the pleasure.

The squeaking sound of the confessional door opening fills your ears, your eyes open in panic.

It's not your side- it must be the other, you hear dull shuffling, before someone softly clears their throat.

You glance down at Billy between your thighs for help but he seems absolutely unbothered by the new developments.

Through the crisscrossed slats in the wood, you catch sight of red rimmed spectacles.

“Speak when you are ready.” Matthew’s voice says calmly on the other side.

You feel Billy’s tongue glide over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Bless me… Father, f-for my sins.”

You hear him let out a deep chuckle.

“Speak your sins, little one.”

Speak? You were supposed to speak? 

“It's been a few days since my last confession, and I find myself-ah- plagued with desire.”

Billy huffs in amusement, his breath tickling your center.

“In what way has this desire manifested?”

“Ph- physically- my body aches for release like never before.” Your eyes roll back into your head for a moment as Billy’s lips close around your bud.

“You poor thing,” Matthew hums, his voice sweetly sympathetic, you could only wonder if he had any inclination that on the other side of the wall you had another priest feasting hungrily between your thighs.

“Have you tried to resist temptation? To pray for strength in overcoming these carnal urges?”

“Yes I’ve tried,” You whisper hoarsely, “But they won’t go away, they won’t accept defeat.”

“I understand, little one. These desires are persistent, aren’t they? And yet, perhaps there is a freedom to surrendering to one’s true nature, embracing the passions that burn within us, rather than denying them.”

You find yourself nodding along helplessly while Billy licks you eagerly.

“Perhaps it is time to confront these feelings head-on. To acknowledge the fire that rages inside you and seek a way to quench its thirst.”

“Please, Father Murdock,” You gasp, saying his name, feeling Billy’s hands tighten on your thighs, “Guide me.” You finish.

Matthew’s fingers push through the slats of wood, and with one great tug, the small crisscrossed panel comes free, leaving an open square gap in its place.

Billy pauses the movements of his tongue between your thighs to lift his head. You stare in amazement at the gap, knowing that it shouldn’t have been that easy to remove.

“F-Father Murdock?” You ask softly.

“Kneel, little one.” He answers without explanation.

You glance down at Billy in confusion, watching a devious and seductive grin grow on his face. He raises a hand, and presses a finger to his lips, an indication for you to not say anything to give away Billy’s presence.

Billy pulls away, and settles himself on the floor  facing upwards, gripping your leg and tugging you off the little wooden bench seat, tugging at you until your knees are on either side of his face, your body directly in front of the wooden gap, facing Matt.

You don’t have a moment to ponder on what exactly Billy hopes to achieve with you almost seated on his face- when Father Murdock’s straining member appears in front of you.

Your mouth drops open in surprise- never having seen one so… prominent. It’s large in every conceivable way, and you’re not entirely sure what he expects you to do with it.

The tip of it is a flushed pink, beaded with a clear substance, and you stiffen in fear, feeling Billy’s hands roam your thighs in an attempt to soothe you.

“Matthew?” You ask again, hoping for some guidance.

“Open wide, little one. Worship your priest as only a devoted acolyte can.”

You exhale a breath of anxiety, leaning in, your mouth wraps around the very tip of him.

He groans softly, leaning in till his hips are flushed to the open gap. You tilt backwards in response, lest you take a significant portion of his length into your mouth before you’re ready.

You’re unsure of how to move, but it’s as if your body knows, the instinct hidden deep within you, only coming forth when needed. Slowly, you begin to move your head back and forth, taking him into your mouth measuredly.

“That’s it,” Matt hums, “Don’t be afraid, embrace the pleasure.”

Your mouth wrapped around him, you moan in surprise when you feel Billy pull your hips onto his face, his tongue finding that aching spot inside of you once more.

It’s sin, it has to be. This was the pleasures of the flesh that you’d been warned about from an early age. The fear of enjoyment that the matrons had tried to beat into you, falling apart with just the touch of Billy’s tongue and a mouthful of Matthew’s swollen erection.

“You love this, don’t you, little one? You crave the taste of my divine body.”

You moan in agreement, taking him deeper, hearing him stutter out a breath in response.

Billy’s tongue is equally wicked, delving into your deepest parts, flicking rapidly along your swollen bundle of nerves, making you more desperate to please.

You choke on Matthew’s erection, taking it too deeply in an impassioned moment, hearing the man before you groan especially loud.

You can barely think, squeezing your eyes shut, rocking your hips onto Billy’s tongue as your body burns, begging for a release that promises incoherence.

You work your mouth to the pace of Billy’s tongue, your jaw aching at Matthew’s size, your body tingles, nipples pebbled and rubbing against your underclothing, desperate to be free.

You moan around his erection, body shaking, the pleasure Billy gives you is so much more than you've ever experienced.

You squeeze your eyes shut, whines muffled by Matthew, and you take him in deeply as you feel your body reach its peak.

You tremble, rubbing yourself desperately onto Billy’s tongue as rapture, unlike anything you've ever experienced, fills you. From your aching center, all the way up your spine, filling your head with hazy thoughts of submission and obedience.

In the midst of it, you hear Matthew groan, before he spills into your mouth. 

You swallow without thinking, some of it slipping from the corner of your mouth as he draws away with haste, concealing himself before replacing the wooden panel that he'd ripped off.

You pant, leaning back, pulling your body off of Billy’s mouth to settle on the floor beside him. He lets out a soft chuckle, sitting up, your lower halves pressed together in the tight space.

He licks at his lips, you watch, transfixed, wiping his mouth to rid himself of any evidence of debauchery.

His eyes filled with mirth as they study you. He reaches out, and uses a thumb to swipe at Matthew’s release on your face, guiding it into your mouth.

“What I wouldn't give to be able to take you right now.” He murmurs, deep in thought.

“What's stopping you?” You ask curiously, not totally sure if you were ready for that.

He shakes his head sadly, pulling you against him, cradling your body in the small space.

“It's not time.” He answers cryptically, holding you close in these moments as your bodies come to terms with the sins you've committed.

.

.

.

[marvelmusing]

In The Dark

Masterlist

Pairing: Dark Elf!Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Summary: During your exploration of the Stygian Caves, you fall into a cavern, losing consciousness. When you wake, you find yourself lying on silken sheets with a pair of pitch black eyes watching you.

My Masterlist

Part One

You wake in a strange bed, in a strange room, and are startled to find a pair of dark eyes watching you.

Part Two

Billy introduces you to his world, and the two of you grow closer together.

Part Three

You wake up in Billy’s arms with blurred memories of the night before. Though one moment remains vivid - Billy’s lips against yours, promising to give you what you need in the morning. Well it’s morning.

[hungermakesmonsters]

Love, Sick Love

Chapter Three

Plot summary : Working at one of the shadier bars in Brooklyn, you have one rule; don’t mess around with the patrons. Most of them are criminals, dangerous. None more so than Billy Russo, but Billy believes that rules are made to be broken. Especially your rule. One lapse in judgement is all it takes for Billy to decide that you’re his, and he’s never been the sort of man to take rejection well.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Stalker behaviour. Also spider/spider bite mentions. All chapters will deal with dark and smutty themes, including but not limited to stalking. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6.1k

A/N : Things start to get dark from this chapter onwards.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Master List

Chapter Three

You were aching when you woke, muscles stiff and skin left littered with the marks of his affections, and, true to his word, you could still feel him. Intimately. He’d left you feeling sore and used and, in the cold light of day, it was easy to regret it. 

As much as you’d enjoyed it, as much as you’d wanted it at the time, the morning after offered you a certain level of clarity and it was easy to see all the ways that it had been a mistake.

Beside you, he was sprawled out, deep in sleep and looking so relaxed and vulnerable that you couldn’t help but wonder when he’d last slept so soundly. Despite your regret, you didn’t want to wake him and ruin what seemed like the first truly peaceful moment that he’d had in ages.

In the morning light you could see that it wasn’t just his face that bore scars. His whole body was a tapestry of marks and imperfections (though to think of anything on him as imperfect  felt so wrong because, even marked as he was, he was still attractive). One scar in particular drew your attention. Across his shoulder, a thick pinky-white scar, faded with age but still very much noticeable. There was a pang of remorse in your stomach, daring to wonder if you’d hurt him when you’d grabbed his shoulder last night.

For a few sweet moments, you couldn’t help but lay there, watching him sleeping and thinking about how things could be if your circumstances were just a little different.

Your night together had been unexpected. Billy had given you something that you hadn’t even realised that you wanted or needed, and he’d shown you what it felt like to have someone want you so much that they lost all composure and control. It was thrilling and alluring. And terrifying.

But, you could tell that he was trouble - or that he was in trouble - and you couldn’t get caught up in anyone else’s shit. You couldn't risk letting a man like Billy get close to you, no matter how he'd made you feel.

Still, there was something about him, something that made you wonder what-if.

It would have been so easy to curl up beside him, to let your hands wander over his body until he woke up and gave you a repeat performance of last night. Your thighs clenched at the thought and, despite how thoroughly you'd been fucked only hours before, you felt that familiar heat spark to life inside you.

Looking down, you realised that the sheet around his waist was tented and without thought, you reached down to slowly uncover him. You moved with all the skill and caution of a cat burglar, peeling back the sheet to reveal -

Fuck.

He hadn't given you the chance to appreciate it last night; long and thick, with the slightest curve. You bit your lip staring down at his cock, now understanding why you ached. It was inch after inch of perfection - though that thought alone left you feeling completely ridiculous. The heat inside you burned hotter, a desperate feeling of arousal taking hold. 

Suddenly you reached a decision; fucking him just one more time wouldn't change anything. You'd wake him with your lips - you weren't usually a fan of blowjobs but the sight of his cock and the way that the tip had started to leak had your mouth watering. You’d wake him up, rile him up, then lay back and let him take control. 

You hated how right Jenna had turned out to be, but you hated even more just how eager you felt for more. Dick-matised. That’s what you were, even if you knew it could only last while he was still there in your bed.

Cautiously, you moved, reaching down towards him, ready to take him in your hand, then your mouth. But before your fingers could reach him, Billy took a gasped breath and his whole body tensed. You pulled away, getting out of bed and taking a step back, cheeks heating, feeling like you’d just been caught doing something wrong. Whatever spell you’d been under was well and truly broken as you looked at him, realising that he was still sleeping, that he hadn’t caught you out.

He rolled onto his side and let out a pained sound, his breathing laboured. 

A nightmare.

He was having a nightmare.

You took another step back, and were quickly brought back to the extremely messy reality of your situation when you stood on the condom he’d dumped on the floor the night before. 

All you could think was how he wouldn’t want you to see him like that, and how seeing him in that position changed things, messed them up even more. It gave you the certainty that you’d been searching for only minutes before; this had all been a mistake. You couldn’t deal with whatever this was anymore than you couldn’t deal with whatever trouble he was bound to cause in your life.

Instead of doing the decent thing and waking him up, you turned and quickly left the bedroom, pausing only to grab your robe from the back of the door, leaving him to his nightmare and letting him preserve his dignity. In the kitchen you filled the coffee pot and fished a couple of mugs from the cupboard, trying to ignore the sounds of gasps and thrashing in the next room.

By the time the pot had brewed and you had two steaming mugs of coffee, the noises had stopped. And, when you returned to the bedroom, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He didn’t notice you moving across the room until you placed a mug on the nightstand for him. Then, when his wide eyes met yours, you caught a flicker of something new; uncertainty.

Billy didn’t say anything and the way he stared quickly made you feel uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know how you took it, so -”

“Black’s fine,” he answered, a noticeable tremor in his voice.

Whatever he’d been dreaming about, it had taken an obvious toll on him, but as bad as you felt for the poor guy, you decided not to mention it.

“I didn’t hear you get up,” he said, shifting a little, glancing around the room like he was worried that some element of his nightmare might be lurking in the dark corners, laying in wait for him.

“I don’t need a lot of sleep,” you shrugged.

Before you could stop him, Billy reached for you, his arm winding around your waist, pulling you towards him. You moved closer without resisting, letting him rest his head on your chest. Without thinking, you started to stroke the back of his head, idly wondering to yourself what he might look like if he let his hair grow out a little. But, then, when you felt scars beneath his hair, you wondered if maybe his hair had been buzzed so he could be treated.

Minutes ticked by and you knew it was wrong to indulge him, to give him any sense that this was anything more than what it had been; a one night stand that you had no intention of repeating. Still, you didn’t move, sensing that he needed a little moment, some slight comfort in order to recover from whatever he’d just been through.

But, when you felt his arm tighten and his fingers pressing into your hip through your robe, you finally took a step back.

“You should drink that before it gets cold,” you nodded at his coffee before lifting your mug to your lips. “I need to grab a shower and get some things done before my shift tonight, are you okay seeing yourself out?”

For a moment you held your breath, eyes fixed on him, trying desperately to conceal the sudden nervousness twisting in your stomach at not knowing how he was going to react. After speaking, you thought that you caught a flash of discomfort and annoyance on his face, but his lips quickly forced a smile.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to get your back?” He asked as he reached for his mug.

“I think you got enough last night,” you retorted, hoping that you could both just laugh and joke about it, rather than it becoming a serious conversation.

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“I wasn’t. But that was last night and today is a brand new day.”

“Sounds like something off one of those inspirational posters,” he said, letting out a huff of laughter.

“It is,” you answered, managing to hold back a laugh of your own. “I was thinking about getting one but I couldn’t decide between that one and the ‘I hate mondays’ one.”

The smile on Billy’s lips turned softer, taking on a more wistful quality as he lifted his mug and took another slow drink.

“I, uh - I used to have one those - y’know the one with the kitten on the branch? Said ‘hang in there’.” He took another drink, almost like the thought of it now left a bad taste in his mouth. “Think I got it for Christmas one year at the group home...”

“You were in foster care?” You asked, momentarily forgetting that you were supposed to be getting rid of him and drawing a line under what you’d allowed to happen the night before.

His smile instantly became more guarded, no longer reaching his eyes. Then came an empty sort of laugh. “You look surprised.”

Immediately you felt bad and schooled your expression into something a little more neutral. 

“It’s not that,” you started and stopped abruptly, taking a second to decide what you wanted to say, what you were willing to share. “I mean, I guess I’m a little surprised but it’s not like - I’m not judging you. I spent time in the system too.”

His eyebrows rose almost immediately. 

“Now who looks surprised?” You joked, lifting your mug and taking a slow sip.

“You were in the system?”

You shrugged, holding the mug at your lips and continuing to drink just to postpone answering the question for a few seconds.

“A few times, on and off. My mom didn’t exactly have her shit together, and she didn’t always have the best taste in men...” you explained before taking one last drink and draining your mug, putting an end to whatever this was. “Look, I don’t want to be a bitch, but I really do have things to get done today...”

“Okay, kitten,” he relented far more easily than you expected. Lifting his mug, he drained the last of his coffee and got to his feet, seeming indifferent to the fact that he was still completely naked. “I just need to use the bathroom, then I’ll get outta your way.”

He didn’t wait for an answer or directions, he strode across the room and slipped into your bathroom, seeming to instinctively know that the door on the left was a closet and not the door he needed unlike most of the men who found themselves stumbling around your apartment the morning after. 

You watched him go, noticing the scratch marks that you’d left across his back and the indentations on his ass cheeks from where you’d gripped him too tight. It was impossible to tell if he was deliberately trying to make you regret kicking him out, but it certainly felt that way. Billy didn’t even bother closing the bathroom door, giving you a full view of him as he peed, though you quickly turned your attention to taking the empty mugs to the kitchen, getting out of his way so he could get dressed.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he offered, emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed.

You scooped his jacket off the floor where he’d abandoned it the night before and offered it to him. “Guess I’ll see you around?”

“Count on it, kitten,” he said, pulling on his jacket, “and don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

He didn’t give you a chance to ask what he meant before leaving and you didn’t linger on the thought. Ultimately, you were just glad that he’d left without a fuss and hadn’t tried to talk you into anything else.

You waited a beat after the door had closed behind him before locking it and sliding the bolt into place.

Your first stop was the shower, scrubbing your hair and skin clean, before relaxing beneath the hot water. Closing your eyes, you found yourself remembering everything that had happened between you and Billy, and how it had made you feel. Even after your hot shower, you still ached in that wonderful way. 

And, despite what you’d told Billy, once you were clean, you returned to bed, curling up and drifting off to thoughts of him. You slept off the night before like it was a hangover you were suffering from and not a state of confusion that you just couldn’t shake.

Though that confusion was tainted with a vague hint of irritation when you realised just how many visible marks Billy had left on you. It meant having to wear jeans and a blouse for work, which would inevitably lead to fewer tips.

When you arrived at the bar, you were surprised to find Sam working, shooting the shit with Jake and Billy. He was telling them some bullshit story as you walked past to throw your jacket in the back - because that was what Sam liked to do, he liked to bullshit. You’d gotten used to it pretty quickly. In fact, you were sure you’d heard the story he was telling before, about how he’d almost been caught screwing some Russian mobsters wife and he’d had to climb out the window, and she was apparently so distraught at him leaving, she tried to follow after, chasing him down the street stark naked.

He was the kind of guy who thought he was god’s gift to women when, really, he was just average with a personality that was only bearable in small doses. But he was mostly harmless. 

Mostly.

“Got your wages over there,” he said, giving a vague gesture to the back of the bar. “Still dunno why you insist on cash, thought you were all into paying for things on your phone these days.”

“My landlord’s a dick and only takes cash,” you answered, shrugging and stepping behind the bar, only allowing yourself a momentary glance towards Jake and Billy.

“Hear you had some trouble here last night,” Sam continued.

That made you look at Billy. It made you glare.

“No, it was fine. Just some drunk that’d been kicked out of The Styx,” you explained, still glaring at Billy, pissed that he’d made you look unable to do your job to your boss.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t wanna have to waste money on security just ‘cause you girls can't handle yourselves,” Sam said.

You didn’t answer, instead you turned away and headed for the brown envelope containing your wages, which was sitting on the back of the bar, beneath an upturned glass.

Once you realised what was in the glass, there was nothing that could have stopped the terrified noise that escaped you. You stumbled backwards, hitting the bar and wincing in pain. But the pain barely registered over the ringing in your ears and the feeling of panic clutching at your chest. You struggled to draw breath and found yourself unable to tear your eyes from the glass and the spider within.

Thick black legs knocked at the glass, trying to get out, trying to get to you.

A few seconds passed but the sound of laughter pulled you back to the moment.

“See? Told ya,” Sam was grinning, obviously impressed by his little prank. His attention turned from the men at the bar to you. “The look on your face... fuckin’ priceless.”

Your hand clenched to a fist at your side and you were about to ruin your life and swing for him but, before you could, the door opened and in walked Jenna.

“‘bout time you showed up,” Sam said. “You just missed all the fun.”

Unclenching your fist, you barged past Sam, muttering something about the empties and the back alley, knowing that he’d disappear soon enough.

You made your way outside, bracing yourself against the brickwork and closing your eyes, trying to get the thought of the spider out of your head. Forcing slow, deep breaths, you slowly overcame your panic but it was almost all completely undone when you suddenly felt a hand on your back.

Turning, you found Billy standing there, and that just made everything worse.

“Have a good laugh?” You asked sharply.

“Look, I - I didn’t know that was how you were gonna react,” he said, as if that excused anything. “If I’d known I -”

“What, Billy? Huh? What would you’ve done?” You asked, though it was very clear that you didn’t want or need an answer. “Make me look worse in front of everyone in there? Make it look like I can’t handle it? Like I need protecting?”

The sudden outburst caught him off guard and he took a step back, but his retreat was only tactical. “You think you don’t need protecting?”

“Who’s gonna protect me, Billy? You?” You almost laughed at the thought.

“You’re damned right I will.”

“I don’t want your protection. I don’t need it.”

You tried to step past him, only to find his hand on your wrist, pulling you back to face him. Billy didn’t say anything, it was like he was struggling to find the words, like he didn’t trust himself not to say something that would make all of this worse. His jaw clenched and his eyes stayed fixed on yours, gaze unwavering, unblinking.

Pulling, you tried to free yourself from his grip, but Billy held on.

“Let me go,” you told him.

The demand seemed to shake something loose in Billy, and he released you, awkwardly shaking his head, like he was trying to clear whatever thought he’d just been caught up in.

Not willing to wait to see what he might say or do next, you headed back inside. You could tell he was following only a step behind, but he remained silent, letting you walk away from him.

“Jake just told me what happened,” Jenna started before you could even take a breath.

Why was everything suddenly going wrong? It was as if you’d had too much of a good thing last night, and all of this bullshit was the universe trying to course-correct.

“It was just Sam being an asshole,” you shrugged, though your eyes immediately moved to the back of the bar to make sure the spider was gone. Thankfully, it was (the one good thing to happen to you today).

“I’m not talking about Sam, I’m talking about last night.”

There was no holding back the sigh or the way your head dropped. All you wanted to do was grab your things and head home. You wanted to go to bed and start all over again tomorrow, with no Billy, no Sam being an asshole, and no Jenna looking at you like she thought you couldn’t handle yourself.

“It’s a good thing I asked Billy and Jake to keep an eye on things, they -”

“What?” You asked, brought back to the moment by that new piece of information. “You asked a couple of drunks to babysit me?”

There was a grumble from Jake at the bar, but he seemed to know better than to inject himself into a conversation that was quickly becoming an argument. Billy, on the other hand, remained completely silent, watching it all play out.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Jenna answered, “you get attacked but I’m the bad guy for making sure that there was someone around to help?”

“Right, because I’m so fucking useless that I can’t even take care of myself?” You snapped back.

Realistically, you knew that she was right and that, without Billy’s intervention, things could have gone a lot worse than they did. And, honestly, you weren’t even sure why you were so upset about it - because she hadn’t told you? Because Billy hadn’t thought to mention it? Or, maybe it was because you hadn’t even thought to ask him why he was still there. But it made what he’d said to you outside seem a hundred times worse.

They all thought you were weak. That you were some helpless little thing.

Of course, it would blow over; arguments with Jenna always did. You weren’t sure what it was, but you could never stay mad at her. Still, for the next few hours, you kept to yourself, clearing glasses, serving anyone that wasn’t Billy. And it was more than obvious to everyone around that you were ignoring him, ignoring the way his eyes followed you around as you worked.

But Jake - he found himself stuck in the middle, receiving all of your usual charm and attention just to prove a petty point to Billy. He was a customer, just like Jake, nothing more. 

“What is it about you and spiders, anyways?” Jake dared to ask after he’d had enough to drink to loosen his tongue.

Tension ran up your spine and it took a second before you could think of an answer.

“Friend of mine died from a Black Widow bite when I was a kid,” you said, refilling his glass.

“Shit,” he offered sympathetically, blowing out his cheeks. 

“It was my fault,” you continued, “we’d been playing by an old log pile and I dropped this stupid ring that I used to wear. It disturbed a nest and a couple of these big spiders came crawling out, so we ran. But Thomas - he went back later to find my ring and got bitten. Poor kid had a real bad allergic reaction, he didn’t stand a chance...”

“Shit,” he muttered again, his head shaking, eyes dropping, ashamed. “Look, I’m sorry ‘bout earlier - laughing at you. If I’d known...”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you told him.

From the corner of your eye you could see Billy staring, and you knew he’d heard the whole tale, and when you finally dared to look at him you caught an unreadable expression on his face. He didn’t say anything. You didn’t give him the chance to.

By the end of the night, the rest of Jake’s friends had turned up and the whole group had vanished about twenty minutes before closing. 

And, as you and Jenna locked up for the night, it was more than enough time to settle your differences. You explained to her that you’d snapped because of Sam’s prank and because you didn’t like being made to feel useless. Jenna listened and nodded along before telling you that she’d only asked Jake and Billy to keep an eye on things because didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

In the end you hugged it out and Jenna invited you back to her place to eat leftovers that her mom had made and - well, you’d never been able to say no to Jenna’s moms cooking.

You decided against telling her about Billy or what had happened after he’d ‘saved’ you and, instead the two of you spent the night drinking wine and watching crappy reality shows until you finally crashed on her sofa.

The next morning you briefly headed home to shower and change before heading into the city, a little day off ritual you’d developed over the last year. 

The subway was packed and you quickly put on your headphones, drowning out all the noises and people around you. You didn’t look up until you felt a prickling sensation on the back of your neck, like someone was watching you. You looked around, silently telling yourself that you were being paranoid, but, as you looked forward again, you saw him.

Your heart skipped a beat, breath catching, but by the time you looked again, he was gone. It was just your imagination - though why you were imagining Billy following you, was something you really didn’t want to think about. But, once the thought was in your head, it was hard to shake and, for the rest of the day, you found yourself looking over your shoulder.

Every time you caught a glimpse of short dark hair, or a jacket like his, you found yourself wondering if it was him.

You even approached one guy as you left your favourite coffee shop in the village, about to throw your steaming hot latte in his face when you realised that it wasn’t Billy when he turned and looked your way. 

Feeling ridiculous, you decided that you were going to put him out of your mind. You weren’t going to think about him any more, you were just going to think of him as a one night stand whose name you couldn’t remember. Outside of the bar, Billy no longer existed.

By the time you got back to your apartment, you were exhausted and most of your pay was already gone, except a little kept aside for bills and food. You’d replaced the clothes that Billy had destroyed, buying yourself a pleated plaid skirt that you were sure would earn you more than a few extra tips.

But even in the safety of your apartment, something felt off.

You couldn’t put your finger on it and, again, you felt ridiculous. 

The draw on your nightstand was slightly open and, for the life of you, you couldn’t remember if it had been closed or not. It bothered you far more than it should - you had a habit of leaving drawers and cupboards open when you were in a rush, and you didn’t think Billy had bothered to shut it after he’d taken out a condom when he’d been with you.

That was probably it. 

What other reason could there be for that drawer being open? It wasn’t like anyone was going to break in to steal a condom or the dildo you kept in there. Pushing the drawer shut, you collapsed onto the bed, deciding that you’d have an early night, that all your paranoia was due to two late nights of drinking.

And, it helped. You felt a lot better the next morning, rested, calmer. Which was a good thing because it was finally Friday, and that meant that the bar was going to be slammed. So, you decided to wear your new skirt and spent way longer than usual on your make-up and hair, needing to up on the tips you’d missed out on the other night because of your bad mood.

An audible sigh of relief left you when you reached Sam’s and you realised that Billy didn’t seem to be there. As you walked through the bar, you let your gaze wander, checking the tables at the back, looking for any sign of him.

“Lover boy’s not here,” Jenna told you. “Wasn’t here last night either. I think you must’ve upset him the other night.”

“Oh well,” you said, grinning, “guess we’ll have to go back to making tips the old fashioned way.”

Shrugging off your coat, you strut past her into the back, letting her see your new clothes. 

Jenna laughed at your little display and called after you; “good thing Paul’s helping out tonight, with you dressed like that we might need to hose some of the regulars down.”

You laughed at the thought, but you were glad to know that you and Jenna would have help. Paul was an old friend of Sam’s, semi-retired, but he liked to come in and help out whenever he needed some extra cash. And, fortunately for you and Jenna, everyone knew not to fuck around with Paul. 

Rumour had it that he used to run with some biker gang, though others would say he was an ex-hit man for the mafia. It was all bullshit, but Paul liked to indulge it so no one tried to mess with him.

It got busy fast, Jenna cranked up the music and you both got to work. It felt good, it was fun. People were drinking and the tips were coming your way. Everything was going great.

And then you saw him at the bar. 

You hadn’t noticed them slip in, the whole crew, all looking amped up already. It made you wonder where they’d been and what they’d been doing, but you didn’t want to ask.

Taking a breath, you forced yourself to move towards Billy. You were going to do your job and try to put everything else behind you.

“The usual?” You said, not quite able to force a happy and bubbly tone.

“So you’re talking to me tonight?”

“Do you want a drink or not, Billy?” 

“Whiskey.”

As you moved to grab the bottle, you felt his eyes on you, something that he didn’t bother to try and hide when you turned back towards him.

“New outfit?” He asked, eyes drinking in the sight of you.

The way he was looking at you made your cheeks warm and, even though it was the last thing you wanted to think about, suddenly all you could think about was the memory of his head between your thighs and the way his greedy tongue had felt against you.

“Yeah, my favourite skirt got ruined, so I needed a new one,” you told him, pouring his drink.

“You should be careful,” he warned, “I have a feeling that one’s gonna end up getting ruined too...”

“I doubt it,” you retorted flatly, somehow resisting the urge to press your thighs together.

Turning and walking away, you spent the rest of the night so run off your feet that you didn’t even have to try to avoid him, it just seemed to work out that whenever he approached the bar Jenna or Paul served him. It was so busy that you didn’t even have time to think about him or the way you could feel his gaze on you. 

When things started to die down, Paul left you and Jenna to finish up, but there were still plenty of people drinking, so Jenna left the music blaring and the pair of you kept working for your tips.

Soon, it was quiet enough for you to head into the cellar to grab some fresh bottles. It was a relief to be away from the noise upstairs and you decided to take your time, knowing Jenna could handle things fine on her own.

“I’ve gotta be honest, I’m starting to take this whole playing hard to get thing personally, kitten.”

His voice suddenly sounded through the darkness was enough to startle you, shock almost causing you to trip over your own feet as you turned to face him.

“You can’t be down here, Billy,” you warned, not wanting to get pulled into his games.

“Can’t I?” The smirk on his lip tinged his words with a dark sort of amusement that sent a shiver down your spine.

“No, you can’t,” you said, “so...”

You let it hang in the air, hoping that he’d take the hint and that he wouldn’t make things any weirder than they already were, but Billy didn’t move.

“So you are playing hard to get,” he said, taking a step towards you. “Lucky for you, I like games.”

“I’m not playing games,” you answered back, holding your ground despite every fibre of your being telling you that you should move, leave. “You need to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere without what’s mine,” he told you, taking another step, then another.

“There’s nothing of yours down here.”

“We both know that’s not true,” he stopped in front of you, his fingers ghosting over your cheek causing you to recoil and finally take a step back, only to find the kegs at your back.

If he cared about your discomfort, he didn’t let it show. He stepped closer, reaching for you again. Part of you knew that you could scream, but you knew no one would hear you over the music and the noise of the bar. And, besides, it wasn’t like Jenna would be able to do anything, any more than you could.

“So the other night was just an act then?” You asked. Billy looked confused, so you continued. “You beat the shit out of that guy for putting his hands on me, but you’re doing the same thing right now.”

“It’s not the same,” the playfulness dropping from his voice, replaced by something far darker. “I’d never hurt you.”

You bristled as his hand cupped your cheek and his thumb ran over your lips. You glared, pulling away from his touch once more, defiant despite the knot of fear that was tightening in your stomach. Unperturbed by your resistance, he reached for you again, this time grabbing your chin and unceremoniously pressing his lips to yours. 

A shocked gasp escaped you, parting your lips and allowing his tongue entrance. For a moment, you were frozen, letting him take what he wanted. As he kissed you, he pressed closer, pinning you against the kegs, a telltale bulge pressing against your stomach through his jeans.

It took a few seconds to overcome the shock and push him away, swinging your hand and revelling in the satisfying crack of your palm striking his cheek. You managed to create some space, but not enough and not for long. He grabbed you by the wrist and pushed you back again.

“I like it when you’re feisty, kitten,” he said, that playful tone in his voice again, like this was all just a game to him.

“I’m not scared of you,” you spat, trying to pull away from him.

“Where are you tryin’ to go, kitten? I’m not done with you yet.”

“What do you want, Billy?” Your voice threatening to break.

“I told you. I want what’s mine.”

“I’m not yours,” you answered back, trying to shove him again, but this time he didn’t budge an inch.

“Deny it all you want,” he replied, while the fingers of his free hand ghosted over your cheek. “I saw how much you wanted me the other night, how much you needed me. You’re gonna realise real soon that you don’t have a choice.”

Your blood ran cold at the implication in his words, body tensing. Again you thought about screaming but - well, what if you screamed and no one came? Your heart ached at the prospect.

“What are you gonna do?” You finally dared to ask, hating that your voice came out so small and afraid.

“Nothing.”

The word didn’t register. It didn’t make sense. There had to be something he wanted, some reason he was doing this.

“I’m not gonna force myself on you,” he continued, his fingers still tenderly brushing against your cheek. “I’d never do that. I don’t have to. Eventually, you’re gonna realise that you want to be mine.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“It will. I’ll make sure of it,” he told you. “If I have to, I’ll take away everything you have until I’m all that’s left, until you’re begging to be mine.”

“I’ll never beg for you,” you answered back.

“You already have,” he said, barely holding back a laugh.

He was right. You hated how right he was. You’d begged for him that night in your bed, over and over again. You’d begged and pleaded as he’d made you feel things you’d never felt before. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down your spine and stoked that shameful heat between your thighs.

(What was wrong with you that this was turning you on?)

“I’m a patient man, but I’m not gonna wait forever,” he told you, leaning close, lips brushing your ear. “One way or another, you’re gonna be mine, kitten.”

Before you could answer, he was kissing you again, groaning against your lips, fingertips pressed into your cheek. Then he pulled away and turned, leaving you there, uncertain at what the fuck had just happened and how you felt about it. 

But, for a second, at the bottom of the stairs, he hesitated and spoke; “it was bees.”

“What?”  You asked in a confused whisper.

“The story you told Jake, about spiders - you got that from a dumb kids movie, but it was bees not spiders that killed the kid.”

You didn’t say anything.

What could you even say, knowing that he’d caught you in a lie? But Billy didn’t seem to expect anything from you. You watched him disappear up the stairs, leaving you completely alone and, by the time you returned to the bar, Jenna was locking up behind the last customer and Billy was nowhere to be seen.

End Note : For anyone old enough to get the My Girl reference, I'm sorry. I recently remembered how traumatic that was for a kids movie and decided if I had to suffer, everyone else did too 😂 (Also the thought of little Billy Russo sitting and watching My Girl is hilarious for some reason???) From this point on the story will be taking a much darker turn (I know I keep warning about that, but this is really the last time I'm going to explicitly mention it). ALSO I managed to break a key off my laptop keyboard and am having to use a crappy bluetooth keyboard that can be kind of laggy. I think I've caught most of the random typos that slipped through, but if I haven't I'm sorry. I might have to buy a whole replacement laptop keyboard which is money I don't want to spend right now (honestly fuck Dell so much) so just as a warning going forward there might be some dumb typos slipping through.

As always your comments/likes/reblogs/asks/general screaming is always cherished and appreciated. I hope you all have an amazing weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt (and on AO3 at some point in the hours after).

Tag List : @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @sweetserendipity65 @dreadfulxives18 @snowkestrel @ladyblacky

@readingabouthim @cheshirecat484 @broadwaybabe18 @oliviaewl @lincerad

@benbarnesprettygurl @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @whereismymindnow @danzer8705

[123passwort]

Awesome story, but "a cry like a chicken" left me in tears laughing , like what 🤣😂 ?!?

Desperation

Summary: you and your boyfriend move to the city. Little do you know, your ex had plans of his own.

Ex!Reader x Billy Russo

4.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. DON'T BE SHOCKED THAT BILLY RUSSO IS A MANIPULATIVE STALKER. smut, swearing, alcohol, pet names, manipulation, stalking, lying, fluff, reconciliation, exs to lovers, cheating. Dead Dove Do Not Eat.

"Billy?" You think as you walk down the aisle of the grocery store towards the tall man in a dark suit, his hair almost the same as his had been the last time you saw him, "can't be him." You try to reason, he's probably still overseas and you haven't seen him, since… well, since he walked away from you all those years ago. You're just about to turn, having talked yourself out of it when the man turns and sees you.

"Hi,” he rakes his hand through his hair, “is that really you?" he squints, his head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Billy," you smile, trying not to melt at how happy he seems to see you, “Hi.” you give him a small wave.

"How've you been?" He asks, stepping towards you, "I didn't know you lived in this neighbourhood." Billy lies. He knows you and your little boyfriend just moved into the apartment building next to his.

He wasn’t surprised that it only took a week to memorise your new routine. You always moved like clockwork, just like you did when he knew you all those years ago. It was only when he spotted you last night staring out into the city lights that he decided that it needed to be today. You have been living on takeout for a week and you always did hate that. You’ll need a home cooked meal after a week of moving and unpacking. It's perfect. A perfect place for a chance meeting of old flames. 

"I've been okay," your eyes glance over him. He looks good, better than good. His suit is so perfectly tailored and shit, is that armani? Billy's shiny dark hair is combed back in a way that looks effortless but you know he would have taken years to perfect. You’re so focused on ogling him that you forget to say anything for a second, "We just moved here."

"Good choice,” he says, like he isn’t just itching to reach out and touch you, “it's a nice neighbourhood." He pauses, taking a step toward you, "we?" He asks, trying to feign ignorance like he hasn't kept tabs on you since he got back. Like he doesn’t know about Ash the guitarist or Leo the bar owner or Bobbie the artist. All of them, useless, appalling mimics, comparisons, terrible shadows of Billy and none of them as useless as James the entrepreneur who always claimed he was one shot from making it big.

"Yeah, Jim said there’s opportunity in the city. So we decided it would be easier to move," you shift, why is he looking at you like that? “Be where the action is and all that.”

"Jim, huh. Sounds nice." He takes a step back, hoping that you're going to follow his movement like you always used to. You’re looking at him almost like you used to, except now your eyes are darting to the left, seeing if anyone sees you, if you can run maybe?

"He is." You step forward, "he's a really good guy." He is, he’s nice, reliable, he loves you and he isn’t going to fuck off to a war the moment things start to get real. 

"I'm happy for you." His hand reaches out wanting so badly to touch you after so long. But instead of holding your cheek like he wants to, it lands on your shoulder. Billy smiles so sincerely at you, and says the one thing he’s always known to be true, "all I ever wanted was for you to be happy."

"Hmm. Yeah " you step back from his hand, his intense gaze getting a little too much for you. Your stomach and heart swirling from the way those pretty brown eyes stare into your soul, "well it was nice seeing you. I better run."

"Wait," he calls as you turn to leave, catching your wrist in his hand, “before you go. I'd really like to catch up for coffee sometime."

"I don't know Billy."

"Please, it'll be fun. Can’t we just- It’s just coffee. It’s been what? 5 years?” 7 years, 6 months, 1 week and 3 days. “I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to.”

"One coffee." You give in so easily like you always have, scribbling your number down on one of Jimmy's business cards and handing it to Billy, "in case you deleted my number."

"I didn't."

"Just let me know when you're free."

XXx

"Hey,” Billy smiles as you answer on the fourth ring, “just wanted to see if you were free tomorrow?" Billy says as you answer the call and when you stay silent he keeps talking, "if you're not, that’s cool. We can catch up another time."

"I ah-"

"What's wrong?" He says, instantly recognising your tone. The tone that says you’re angry, but you don’t want to show it. Billy knows you're with him, he saw James. He watched the both of you go up the evaluator ten minutes ago. 

"Now isn’t a good time." you stutter out, hanging up the call. 

Billy picks up his glass, swirling it as he leans onto the large window of his apartment. He spots you in a second. Your hand on your hip while James turns away from you. Billy sips at his whiskey as you pace your apartment. James follows you, his arms flying around wildly. You spin on your heel, as Billy clicks open his phone, easily selecting your number and calling again under the guise of concern.

He knows the moment your phone starts ringing and you flip it over on the counter. James looks like he's yelling now. When the call rings out, Billy flicks open a message as you sit down in what looks like a huff.

Hi, you seemed upset. Hope everything is ok.

James is still swanning about, flapping his arms about as you sit on the sofa. Billy smiles, it took a lot of work to get you an apartment directly opposite his. It was worth every penny to get to see you argue with the man you up tried to replace him with. Like you could ever replace him, he sure as shit had a hard time trying to replace you.

Billy smirks as the theatrics of the rest of the argument unfolds, the scotch in his hand empty as your boyfriend starts to throw clothes into a bag. You follow him, trying desperately to get James’ attention. He should have put mics in your apartment, so he could listen to this man tell you how insecure he is, how he knows he’ll never compare to the love you shared, tell you he knows how much better you’d be without him and how it eats away at him. 

You’re crying, Billy hates it, but it needs to be done. He pours another drink as the idiot finally leaves with his bag. Billy waits. Waiting for the call that he knows is coming. Who else could you call? You don’t know anyone else in the city, there's only one person in this city of millions who knows you well enough to make you feel safe. So, he waits. Waits for the call that he knows is coming.

It only takes 2 hours. He’s been watching you, you cried into the couch for 30 minutes before grabbing a bottle of wine and slipping into the bedroom. He resists the urge to go to you, to wrap his arms around you and dry those pretty tears. An hour later you reappear with a tub of ice-cream and lay down on the couch. He’s on his third glass of whiskey, when his phone starts to vibrate. He waits a moment, setting his glass down before reclining and reading the text.

Kitten: Billy, are you free now? 

Billy: I am. Is everything alright? You seemed upset

Kitten: Fine, just have some time to kill.

Billy: Do you know Cool Beans? It’s on the corner of-

Kitten: yeah, The red brick place? I know it. Can we meet in 30?

Billy: I’ll see you there. 

Billy arrives a few seconds after you, following you down the street will do that. He watched you, your shoulders hunched over, your pace quicker than he thought it would be. You must be desperate to see him. Good. 

He enters the cafe, immediately spotting you sitting at a table near the back wall. You look so beautiful in those yoga pants, your pretty hair tied up in a bun. He only sees that your face is still fresh from where you tried to wash the tears away, when you lift it from your hands.

"Didn't mean to be late,” Billy lies as he approaches your table, "got caught up with a work thing.” his face changes to concern as he gets closer and he can see the red in your eyes. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying?”

"Yeah,” you rub your eyes and smile up at him, “I only just got here."

Billy spends the next hour asking you a million questions, like he doesn’t already know. Sure, he doesn’t need you to tell him, but he loves to hear you talk and the way you tell your story. He loves how talking distracts you and you start to smile. 

You’re on your second cup of coffee and your third piece of cake when you let out a sigh. Small tears run down your cheek as Billy reaches out to hold your hand. “You can tell me, maybe I can help?” he tries to comfort you, without reaching too far too fast.

Resting your head in your hand you look up at him. Whispering about how your boyfriend decided to go on a fishing trip with his friends suddenly. How you thought you’d be spending the weekend together and now you’ve been left in a city you don’t know by yourself. You leave out some of the hurtful things James said to you, brushing them aside as you squeeze on Billy's hand. You really want to talk to him, to sort this out, but he’s screening your calls and all because you had a call from an old friend. You confess all this to him and he just stares at you, his eyes sympathetic and you feel like you’ve crossed a line. “Sorry, you just wanted a coffee and I’ve dropped all this on you.” you start to pull your hand away, but Billy gives you a tight squeeze.

"Why don't you come hang out with me? I don’t live far from here."

"I don't know. I’m sure I’ve already ruined your day.”

“Don’t be silly. It'll be fun. We can watch legally blonde and eat junk food.”

“You promise?” you wipe the tears from your cheek, “I feel like I just lumped all my problems on you and now you’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“I am. I just thought you might wanna see a friendly face,” he pauses, standing up and grabbing your coat, “maybe not be alone.”

“I really don’t want to be a burden.”

“You could never burden me.” Billy helps you slip on your coat, and when you duck away from him he steps in front of you, “I mean it. Never.”

“Thanks,” you give him such a tiny smile.

“I’m just down the street.”

“Alright, lead the way.” you agree, thoughts of sitting alone in your apartment looking over everything. Replaying the fight over and over again/ Wondering where James could actually be, is he going to come back? This is exactly what you need, a distraction and if the distraction happens to be a tall, handsome, expensive suit wearing old friend, who are you to complain? Maybe today is just the luckiest unlucky day ever.

You walk together, your shoulders brushing as you make your way down the busy street. Billy walks you in a circle, around several unnecessary buildings hoping that you don't notice that his apartment building is opposite yours. But as you approach the glass towers you point out your new place on the other side of the road. 

“Weird, what are the chances,” you ponder, thinking it must be fate that Billy lives just across the way from you. Maybe moving to the city was the universe's way of telling you things are looking up. Billy’s changed so much since the last time you saw him on that cold winter night. He’s grown, seems more mature, more at ease in his own skin. But the way he looks at you, the feelings that swim still inside your heart, maybe this wasn’t a good idea. You glance over at him and he’s still smiling at you, in that soft, warm way that calls to you.

“Yeah, that is weird. Small worlds huh?”

“Mm, must be.” You shrug, following him up to the elevator.

When you make it to his apartment Billy tries not to be smug about how much bigger it is than yours. About how his huge windows have a clear view of the city and how you're already taking off your coat and making yourself at home.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah that'd be nice. Do you gave any-”

“Prosecco? I think I have a bottle here somewhere,” He opens the fridge with 3 bottles in it, ready and waiting for you.

“Thanks,” taking the glass he offers you. You relax into the large sofa, resting your drink on your knee. 

“So you had a fight and he left huh?” Billy asks, sitting down next to you. A drink in his hand as his arm spreads out behind you on the couch, “Seems a bit extreme.” 

“Basically. I can't believe he'd be so jealous.” You huff, taking a sip of your wine, “we haven't seen each other in years. And he just- I don’t get it. That he could think-” you roll your eyes, trying not to see the way Billy is looking at you.

“I wouldn't have called if I knew it was going to be a problem for you.” he gives your shoulder a squeeze, “You should’ve just said.” like he would’ve listened, like he wouldn’t have tried again and again.

“I know, he's just being irrational. Hopefully he'll come around.” you shuffle, adjusting yourself on the couch and resting your head on Billy's shoulder. It feels nice, safe. Like for the first time in hours you can breathe again.

“He's an idiot if he doesn't,” he moves to wipe away a tear that's falling down your cheek, “he'd be an idiot to lose you.”

“What does that make you?” you ask, peering up at him, forgetting just how close your faces are with your head resting on his shoulder.

“Biggest idiot ever,” his sincerity beaming into you, “or luckiest man alive, to run into you in that store. Take your pick.”

“Billy.”

“Kitten.”

“Haven’t heard that in a very long time,” the mention of your old nickname sends a shiver down your spine and the blood pumping into your veins like it always did when he called you that.

“Haven't said it in a long time either.” his hand brushes along your cheek, “I missed you, Kitten.”

“Billy.”

“Do you want to watch the movie?” he asks, so softly his fingers gently stroking over your cheekbones, “I can move, if it makes you more comfortable.” he doesn’t want to, doesn't want to ever let you go now that he’s finally got his hands on you. "Or you can yell and scream at me," he suggests, "like old times. “Take some of that anger out on me." He hopes you take the bait, desperately wants you too. But this is important, you need to choose this. Even if he had made getting you to this choice possible. 

“Is that what you want?" you ask, pulling your head back.

"What I want? I told you already, all I want is for you to be happy."

"Oh." You stand, hands on your hips, "how could that possibly be true?" You turn from him as you start to walk away, "I know that's a lie."

"It's not a lie, Kitten."

"It fucking is." You spin, your eyes glaring daggers into him. Fuck, you're beautiful, "you want me to be happy?" You stomp, "I was happy. Once. A long time ago." You shout, stamping towards him with your finger pointed at him. So pretty when you're angry. "You were the person who took that away from me."

"I miss you."

"You miss me?" You slap at his chest, "it's your fault you don't have me!"

"I need you."

"The only thing you ever needed in your life was violence. You never needed me!" You feel the fury in your hands start to shake as Billy lets you slap at him.

"I always needed you," he stops your hands holding them close to his heart, "I needed you so badly it scared the shit outa me."

"So you ran." You pull your hands free, glaring up at him with such defiance in those pretty eyes.

"I did." He reaches out for you, but you step back, "not my finest moment. Probably the stupidest thing I ever did."

"So what now, Billy? We’re just meant to be friends?" You throw your hands up in the air, "pretend like whatever we had is gone?"

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what William?"

"Don't."

"What William? Tell me I'm wrong."

"I think we’re getting too heated. We just need to take a breath." He hopes you take the bait, that you see his lie for what it is. So he turns away, " you don't mean that."

"This conversation is not over, William." He can hear you stomping towards him, "don't you fucking turn away from me again." You shout grabbing him by wrist and slapping in his face when he turns back to you.

"You feel better now?"

"No. You asshole. I don't feel better!" You attempt to slap him again, but he catches your hand in his.

"Stop."

"Fuck you."

"Yeah, fuck me. I'm an asshole." He stares down at you, watching your eyes as he releases your hand. "What are you going to do about it?" His eyes trace over your tongue as it slips over your lips.

"William." Your hand wraps onto his collar pulling his lips to yours and you melt into his kiss. Shit, did he always taste this sweet? Yeah, he did. But with the tang over whiskey on his tongue you may become addicted. His hands slip into your hair, holding your face so close as you cling to him. His heart soars as your body presses into him, his hands unable to control the way they roam over your body.

You can’t stop kissing, neither of you saying anything as you rush to undress each other as he guides you both towards his bedroom.

You fall back onto the bed together, both panting from the lack of air. "Are you sure about this Kitten?" He asks you, he needs to know. He craves it, the knowledge that you want him just as badly as he wants you.

"Is It wrong to want this?" You ask, your hand already travelling down his torso towards his cock, "that I missed it?"

"You miss me too or just my dick?"

"I missed all of you."

"Are you worried he will find out?”

“I hadn’t even-” he cuts off your train of thought.

“We keep this between us." He slows down the pace of your hand, gently pressing kisses into your neck, "I won't tell a soul, just tell me you want me."

"I want you." That's all he needs to hear as he grabs your legs wrapping around your waist as he leans down over you.

“Tell me again.”

“I want you, Billy.”

"Fuck, you’re so wet already."

"I am"

"For me?"

"Yes, Billy."

"Good girl, now open up for me." He says as his cock prodding at your pussy, itching to get inside. He swipes it up and down, gathering your wetness on his cock, "let me in, kitten." He moans as he reaches the end of you.

He kisses you fiercely, the feeling of coming home overwhelms him as he thrusts into you. His hands gripping tight at your hips, his chest weighing down on your as your fingers roam over his back. 

"I missed you," he breaks the kiss, his nose bumping yours as he stares down in your eyes, "did you miss this?"

"Missed you, so much." You moan in reply, your nails digging into his back. You need him closer, need his hands all over you and his marks on your pretty skin and his name on your lips.

"You're so fucking beautiful."

"Billy, you-" you pant his cock grinds into you, brushing against your g spot.

"That's it. Clamp down on me, Kitten." His hands slip up from your thighs, grabbing a better hold at your waist so he can pound his cock into you, "Shit, you feel too good. I need to- slow."

But you're so close, you can't slow down. You grind your hips into him, feeling the head of his cock flexing inside you and making your legs start to twitch, "you're getting close"

"Please don't stop, Billy."

"I won't."  He moves you, grabbing hold of your waists and pulling you up onto his lap. "I got you." His strong arms lift you, fucking you onto his cock, your head barely hanging on as your clit starts to brush against his lean torso. 

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your fingers in his hair, pulling his head back from your tits and making him look up at you, "I missed you."

"I love you." He admits as his fingers bite into your side, "I love you." You free his hair and his face slides into your tits, exhaling into the soft flesh, biting and pinching with his mouth.

"You-" you try to breathe, "you can't mark me Billy."

"Say that you love me." He moves to the other breast swirling your nip in his mouth, his eyes not leaving yours.

"You can't- he'll"

"Mean it."

You grab at his hair again, pulling him off you as your hand connects with his face, "I love you."

"Do it again."

"I love you." You slap him again, this time following it up with a kiss as his hands slip up your back and cradles you close to him. 

"My Kitten." He sinks you back into the mattress, his whole body towering over you as he moves faster and more desperately. "Fucking perfect Kitten." His cock is so deep inside you when he starts to grind down into you, "cum for me." He keeps it in, the grinding sends your legs wild as your back arches underneath him, "what a pretty girl," he whispers as his lip brush over yours, "cum Kitten." He grips at your thighs, holding your pussy over his cock when you try to squirm away, "cum for me."

You moan his name, along with a garbled cry that sounds like a chicken let loose as your back arches all the way off the bed, your tits push into his chest and your eyes start to cross.

"Keep cumming Kitten," Billy's cock throbs inside of you and the wave still going, "fuck I'm so close." He pulls out just a little, before plunging back in, "where do you want it?"

"Insi-" you try to say as another wave of pleasure washes over you.

"Kitten," he smiles, as his own pleasure is reaching its peak, "you want to take my cum inside you?"

"Yes."

"You want me to fill you up?".

"Please Billy."

"Good girl." He starts to shake, his eyes open wide as he watches you still riding out your own pleasure, "I love you." He screams as he floods your insides with his cum. 

He doesn't stop and within seconds you feel a third wave washing over you and your whole body starts to twitch as your mind goes numb, "I love you." You whisper ,your words hoarse and breathless as you start to gently comb your fingers through his hair.

"Kitten," he whispers into your shoulder as his whole body drops on to you, "you ok?"

"Great, beyond great."

"Not angry anymore?"

"No." 

"Good, I'm going to roll us. You ready?" You give him a small nod and Billy rolls you on top of him. His fingers dance along your spine as you rest on his chest. "I'll grab you some water in a minute. I just wanna hold you a bit longer."

"Mm, this is nice." You start to pepper kisses on his chest, "I missed this the most."

"The angry fight sex?" He laughs, brushing your hair from your face when you look up at him.

"No, the cuddles after." You reach up and boop his nose, "you're always so sweet after."

"How could I ever stay mad at you when you take me so well? My pretty Kitten." He holds you tighter, like if he doesn't you're going to drift away again. “And then you smile at me like that.”

"See, sweet."

"Only for you."

"Hmm," you ponder, still wrapped up in your afterglow, "no one ever loved me the way you do." you whisper the throw away thought.

"They couldn't.” he gives you a tiny kiss on your hand,  “Noone else appreciated how spectacular you are."

"I'm not, I-".

"You are the most incredible person I've ever met. And I never knew what you wanted with me or what I did to deserve you, but I know that my life is not right without you in it. In whatever way I can have you."

"Billy what are we going to do about-" he cuts you off with a kiss.

"Don't." He pleads, "not while I'm still inside you. This is all I need," he gives you a squeeze, "to know that you're mine, that you love me too."

"I'm not yours." 

"You have always been mine, Kitten."

[dreamcatcher92]

Coercion Chapter Five

So this is my second smut story that I have been working on. I am hoping you all enjoy!

It is a bit dark. Yes, Billy Russo is of course our main character aside from a girl named Cassidy. Who is completely made up and meant to be played by the reader. The other characters that are mentioned in this story are made up as well and not based on anyone in particular. I did this one differently than my first story, but I wanted to switch up my writing style a bit. So you may see more differences in other stories to come. Things that are bold and italicized are thoughts.

Now for some warnings for the entire story but necessarily in the current chapter you read: dark Billy for sure, non-con, dub-con, kidnapping, NSFW, 18+, smut, sex, rape, attempted rape, physical violence, abusive behavior, language. I think that covers it, but sorry if I missed something.

Read at your own risk.

A bead of sweat dripped into the dirty dishwater from Cassidy’s brow. She has been working hard on her chores all morning while Billy was in his office working online and getting things squared away for the upcoming company party. Once she finished, she went to Billy’s office door and knocked lightly.

“Come in!” Billy called out.

Cassidy slowly opened the door and stepped inside, “I’m finished with my chores Billy.” She kept her eyes to the floor.

Billy looked at her intently as he leaned back in his office chair. He sat silently staring at her for a few moments, then stood and walked over to stand directly in front of Cassidy, never once taking his dark eyes off her. Her heartbeat began to speed up a bit the closer he got and when he came to a halt in front of her, she felt like she was going to pass out from how fast her heart was racing. Stay calm Cass. Stay. Calm.

Billy gently lifted her chin so that now they were looking into each other's eyes, “Show me.”

Cassidy gulped and nodded. Billy guided her back into the kitchen where she showed him the hard work that she put in cleaning up the dishes, cleaning the counters, and mopping the floor. After Cassidy finished explaining everything that she had done to Billy, she stopped and turned to look at him. He stood with his long, strong arms crossed and was leaning against the entryway wall. He smiled.

“Looks good.” He said, now slowly making his way over to Cassidy.

“Thank you Billy.” She said in a soft and timid tone.

Now inches away from her, he reaches out with one hand and brushes some of her hair behind her ear, “I think it’s time we go back into the city for a little while. What do you think?”

“R-really?” 

“Are you going to obey me and be a good girl?”

Cassidy straightened up and was getting more excited, “Yes! I promise Billy!”

Billy chuckled and placed his hands on her shoulders, “Alright, let’s go pack then.”

Once in the bedroom, Billy handed Cassidy a duffle bag and told her to pack some clothes and personal items to take with them to the city. He told her that they would only be there for about a week and not to overpack. She grabbed a few of her new outfits that Billy ordered for her and went into the bathroom to pack some toiletries. 

When she turned around from grabbing her toothbrush, Billy was right behind her. She gasped from being startled. She didn’t hear him walk in. He smiled because he found it comical that he scared her.

He grabbed the bag from her hand and put it on the bathroom floor, “Take off your clothes.”

Cassidy’s insides began to feel like jello from nerves, “B-but I’m not finished packing.”

He stepped closer and leaned down to her face, “I said, take off your clothes.”

She began to shudder. Was this the moment that she has been so terrified of? Was he going to force himself on her? Would he hurt her? Her mind raced with horrible thoughts, but she did as she was told because she was too panicked to find out what would happen if she didn’t.

“Y-yes Billy.” she said shakily as she began to pull up her shirt.

After completely undressing, Cassidy looked up at Billy with tears in her eyes. She sniffled and waited for Billy to tell her what to do next.

“Why are you crying?” Billy asked calmly as he gently caressed her arms.

“I’m sorry Billy, I’m just really nervous.” Cassidy said anxiously. 

“Nervous because of a shower?” 

Her heart skipped, “A sh-shower?”

“Yes, silly.” He said as he took off his clothes.

After taking off all of his clothes, Billy walked over and started the shower. Cassidy was still in shock and quite nervous because she has yet to shower with Billy. Billy motioned for her to get into the shower, then he followed. 

The shower had two shower heads and had plenty of room inside for both of them. Billy grabbed the shampoo and squirted some into his palm. He turned her around and began washing Cassidy’s hair. 

She didn’t really know what to do or think. As she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, her mind kept racing with thoughts. She wiped the water from her eyes and looked at Billy. His perfect body and dark hair getting soaked by the hot steaming water. She couldn’t stop staring. Billy noticed her watching him wash himself and smiled. 

“So what did you think was going to happen Cass?” He said knowing exactly what she was thinking.

Cassidy broke from her trance and locked eyes with Billy, “I uh, well I…”

Billy inched towards her, “Did you think I’d do something?

She opened her mouth, but couldn’t speak.

“Maybe I’d do something like this?” Billy said as he spun her around to now have her back up against his chest.

“I…”

“Or maybe this?” he said, now caressing her breasts with his large hands.

She began to breathe heavier and her eyes were shut, “I…”

“You've been such a good girl for me. Good girls should get rewarded, don’t ya think?” His right hand is now trailing past her chest and down her stomach.

Her head is laying on his chest and she lets out a small whine, “Yes Billy.”

She has never been touched like this before and she had no idea what to do. She was just letting him do whatever he wanted to her because right now, she was feeling so good. She could feel her pussy tingling the closer his hand got.

When his middle finger reached her clit, he pressed down, and Cassidy let out a moan. Billy smiled and continued to draw circles on her swollen clit and pinched her nipple with the other hand. Cassidy was unsure exactly what she was feeling, but the faster he got, the more she moaned and whined in pure ecstasy. 

“Billy!”

“That’s it baby. Just relax.”

She grabbed onto Billy’s strong arms and he plunged a finger inside of her wet entrance. She screamed out. He pulled his finger in and out of her faster and faster until she let go and her pussy tightened around him. 

“Billy!” she screamed. 

“There’s my girl.” he said into her ear as he let her ride out the intense orgasm. 

She came hard and her body collapsed. Billy pulled out his finger and picked her up into his arms. He turned the water off and carried her to the bed. He didn’t care how wet they were. He laid her down in the bed and climbed in behind her.

“Sleep now sweetheart. We have a long day tomorrow.”

[strawberriesandhotmen]

Shameless

a/n: Hello my lovelies. This scenario has been hiding in the back rooms for some time, so I thought I’d go ahead and get it out there. It’s a little shorter, but a beauty if I do say so myself. 

pairing: CEO!Billy Russo x fem!secretary!reader

CW +18 smut: swearing, tension, hickeys, oral (f!receiving)

word count: 2.5k

“Mr. Russo is not available right now, I’ll have him get back to you.” You sighed as you hung up the phone; that was their third call today. Couldn’t people take a hint? Your boss had been stressed beyond belief in recent days, and you, being the fantastic secretary you are, had been doing everything in your power to be sure he remained unbothered. This task had, however, proven harder than anticipated.

Your boss was a very attractive man; quite the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Those dark eyes of his rendered you unquestioningly obedient, yet not to a fault. You never failed to set him straight if you thought he was acting too rashly, and he always managed to complain about it. It was a strange relationship between the two of you.

“I need to see you in my office.” The sudden buzz of the intercom startled you, but you ignored the racing of your heart to tend to Mr. Russo’s needs. After all, that is what you’re paid for. Upon standing, you smoothed out your black pencil skirt and fixed the collar of your white button up, the click-clacking of your stilettos echoing around the marbled office building. With a quick knock, you entered Mr. Russo’s office, closing the door behind you.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” His head laid in his hands, lifting to face you only when you spoke. A heavy sigh escaped him, and he gestured to the chair opposite his own. You sat, rather hesitant internally, crossing your ankles and waiting for instructions.

“I need you to remind me of my meeting schedule for the day.” ‘Please’ was a word you had never heard the man utter, so you had come to stop expecting it. You didn’t mind, really, it was understandable to a point.

“Only one meeting today, sir, with the president of that prospective merger you’ve been considering.” He muttered a string of curses under his breath, clearly not looking forward to that appointment.

“Time?” Your eyes flickered to your lap as the answer appeared in your head.

“Fifteen minutes, sir.” He closed his eyes, seeming to be swallowing back a scolding. You hadn’t actually done anything wrong; in fact, you had reminded him of the meeting just yesterday, but you should’ve anticipated his anxious forgetfulness. “Shall I let you know when he arrives?” He merely nodded, leaving the room in silence once again. You took this as your cue to leave, making your way back to your desk once again.

After letting Mr. Russo know that the president of that merger had arrived, you decided to take your lunch break. Since the couch you ate at was sat quite close to Mr. Russo’s office, you could practically hear their whole conversation (not that the legal jargon was making much sense). It was only when you noticed your boss’s tone turning more agitated that you decided to step in.

With a swift knock, you cracked open the door and stuck your head in.

“Mr. Russo, sir, you’re needed upstairs.” He wasn’t needed, of course, but you thought a break might be helpful. You sensed a flash of relief behind his agitation, but he maintained his previously apparent expression for the benefit and ignorance of the merger president.

“Excuse me, John.” He muttered lowly, sliding on his suit jacket as he made his way to the elevator. You decided to do something to…relieve his tension, and followed behind him. Mr. Russo furrowed his brow in confusion as the doors slid shut and he saw you standing beside him; yep, definitely caught him off guard with this one.

“Don’t you have work to do, Miss-” You shook your head, interrupting his assumption. It wasn’t entirely incorrect, but it was an assumption.

“I’m on break, sir.” You clarified politely, subtly batting your lashes as you peered up at him. Billy’s eyes flickered over your face, taking in your appearance. He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to you, you were beautiful. But he tried his best not to show it, keeping his facial expression stoic.

“Ah, I see.”  He said simply, looking away from you and focusing on the elevator doors in front of them. The elevator began to move, the silence in the small space between you palpable. Billy remained painfully aware of your presence beside him.

“You seem stressed, sir.” You stepped closer, speaking in a quiet tone in an attempt to relax and soothe his anxiousness. It seemed to do the opposite, however, as Billy’s eyes widened slightly as you stepped closer, his gaze involuntarily sweeping down your figure. He took in the sight of your skirt and button up, the outfit hugging your curves perfectly. Despite his best efforts to remain indifferent, he couldn’t help the way his heart thumped slightly faster in his chest. He cleared his throat and looked away, his mind racing. 

“I’m fine.” In his attempt to sound casual, his voice wavered, betraying the facade he displayed to everyone else.

“Are you sure, Mr. Russo?” You prodded gently, placing a manicured hand on his forearm. The feeling of your hand on his arm sent sparks through his body. Your touch was intoxicating, it was driving him insane. He took a deep breath, still avoiding eye contact. He tried to keep his voice steady, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. 

“I said I’m fine.” He repeated, his tone a bit brusque. You pulled your hand away, momentarily questioning your original goal. The absence of your touch was like a jolt to his system. He missed the warmth of your hand on his arm. Despite his better judgement, he found himself wanting to pull you back towards him, to feel your touch again. But he resisted the urge, keeping his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know.” You pointed out, sharply breaking the tense silence. Billy closed his eyes, sighing deeply. He knew you were right, he shouldn't be pretending. But he had always been good at putting up a front, and he had never been good at letting people in. He opened his eyes again and looked at you, his expression softer than before. 

“I’m just…tired. I’ve been working non-stop and I feel like I’m about to snap.” He admitted softly. He leaned back against the wall of the elevator, letting his head fall back against the cool surface. He was exhausted. He had been pushing himself too hard, trying to juggle everything on his own. But he was so used to doing things alone, he didn’t know how to ask for help. Luckily, you could think of just the thing.

“Maybe you need to do something to...relax you.” You took a step toward him, fluttering your lashes again. You would get him this time. Billy raised an eyebrow at you, intrigued by your suggestion despite himself. He was well aware of the innuendo behind your words, and he surprisingly didn’t mind it.

“And what exactly do you suggest?” He asked, an uncharacteristic and playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Well, I am on break, sir…” I began, matching his expression. Billy’s smirk grew as he looked you up and down, taking in the sight of you in your short, tight skirt. He was getting more and more tempted by the second. He knew he should resist, it would be highly unprofessional. But he found it increasingly difficult to care about that fact.

“I suppose you are…” He said, his voice lowering to a huskier tone. He stepped closer to you, closing the distance between you. He was so close that you could feel his minty breath on your face as he let his gaze wander over your figure, taking in every curve and contour. He brought a hand up to your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles against your waist. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“You know, the elevator is currently stuck between floors.” He whispered, reaching back to push the ‘stop’ button as his fingers traced the edge of your skirt. You merely hummed in response, enjoying this.

“How unfortunate for us.” Yeah, very unfortunate. Billy chuckled softly, the raspy sound sending a wave of heat straight to your core. He brought his lips to your neck, peppering light kisses along your skin.

“What ever shall we do to pass the time?” He teased, his hand slowly trailing up your thigh.

“It seems to me like you have a few ideas, Mr. Russo.” You tilted your head to the side, granting him better access as you continued the arbitrary banter. Billy smirked against your neck, kissing his way up to your jawline. He brought up his other hand, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to look at him.

“Oh, I have plenty of ideas, darling.” He said with a low growl, his eyes darkening further with desire. Billy's gaze shifted even more as he took in the sight of you, your sultry look driving him wild. He couldn’t resist you any longer. With one swift move, he scooped you up into his arms and pressed you against the wall of the elevator, his lean body pinning you in place. He buried his face in your neck, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing up your skirt and exposing more of your skin.

As his lips trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone. His hands continued to explore your body, roaming over every inch of you. He cupped your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pressed himself closer to you. He could feel your breath hitch, which only fueled his desire even more.

“God, you’re stunning.” He murmured against your skin, his hands moving up to unbutton your blouse. You hummed, biting your lip as you assisted him in the removal of your top, leaving you in a white lacy bra. Kissing his neck, you rolled your hips into his, his prominent bulge poking into your hip. A low growl escaped him at the feel of you grinding against him, his lips returning to your neck. He nipped and sucked at your skin, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. He moved his hands back to the hem of your skirt, gathering up the material in his hands and tugging it up higher.

“You’re a lovely fucking woman, darling.” He rasped out, his voice gruff. You let out a gasp as he kneeled before you, the look in his eyes feral as he tugged the skirt above your hips. Now, the wet puddle between your legs would be quite clear to him. He tsked once or twice, rather feignedly condescendingly, shaking his head.

“Oh, love, you’ve ruined these already. They’ll have to go.” He didn’t wait for a response before virtually ripping off your poor panties, tossing them behind him somewhere. Cursing under his breath, he tugged your legs apart and began placing wet kisses along your inner thighs. You let out a deep sigh of contentment, threading your fingers through his hair and grasping onto it for stability. Without another word, Billy brought his mouth to your dripping center, his lips gently placing a kiss there. A low, appreciative moan left his lips before he looked back up at you.

“Fuck, princess, you taste divine.” He breathed against your throbbing pussy, his tongue slipping out to lick a long stripe up through your folds. A whimper of his name left your lips at the sensation, and your hold on his hair tightened. A strand of his perfectly gelled locks had fallen over his forehead, making him look impossibly more heavenly. 

He groaned against you as the taste of you hit his tongue, his head moving back and forth as he tried to get more of you. His hands gripped tighter at your hips, holding you firmly in place as his tongue worked to bring you ever closer to that edge, that high. You were almost to the point of dripping onto the floor, which would be quite embarrassing, but you found yourself not caring in the slightest as Billy continued to work you over with his expert tongue.

He took his time with you, not rushing in his actions. He wanted to take all the time in the world to savor you as best he could, his tongue and lips working to memorize every sensitive spot, figuring out what made you gasp and what made you moan. His hands gripped and caressed every inch of bare skin he could reach as his tongue fucked you mercilessly, shamelessly. A rather desperate-sounding groan left his lips, vibrating against your quivering folds as you felt another drop of cum leak out of your hole.

“Billy, m’close.” You moaned, fighting to keep your knees from buckling as the knot in your stomach grew with each lap of his tongue. The lewd sounds of Billy making out with your sopping cunt filled the small, confined space, drawing you that much closer to the edge. He didn’t even bother to respond with words, merely speeding up his actions, displaying how desperate he was to have your cum fill his mouth. His nose bumped your clit every so often, and when you decided you wanted more, you let your own hand travel downward to place small circles over the swollen bud. When Billy noticed this, he drew your hand away and replaced it with his own, demonstrating just how much better he was at this than you. You couldn’t contain your moans now, whimpering and gasping incessantly as you came to your peak.

“B-Billy, m’cumming, m’cumming…” You cried out, although you were sure he knew with the way his ministrations increased in urgency. He groaned lowly as your cum poured out of you, grasping your thighs tightly to keep you supported. Lapping up every last drop of your arousal, he gingerly worked you through your high, standing only when your breath slowed.

“You did so well f’me, princess.” He mumbled against your neck, placing a kiss or two down the side. “So fuckin’ pretty when you come.” You breathed deeply as you wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling softly as you looked into his eyes appreciatively.

“That was quite shameless of you, you know that?” You smirked as you teased him, absently dragging your nails along the nape of his neck. He snorted out an amused chuckle, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to your temple.“

What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

SOME TYPE OF SKIN (1).

PAIRING — billy russo x reporter f!reader

CONTENTS — ficlet; fluff; tiny bit of angst if you squint really, really hard; a dash of pining; references to some canon-typical violence; some very mild innuendo.

SUMMARY — after a harrowing experience, billy surprisingly takes the matter of your personal safety into his very own hands.

WORD COUNT — 1.6k

NOTES — so I decided to write something short and fun for @elixirfromthestars’s cinema writing challenge and honestly, i’m not 100% satisfied with this (when am i ever tho?) but also trying not to overthink this too much. please excuse me while I continue to scream into the void about this stupidly beautiful man. I apologize in advance for the person I have been and am going to be for the next few weeks; ben barnes has such a firm grip on my fucking throat lmao 🤭

✩ masterlist ✩ ben barnes characters m.list ✩ library blog

When he asked you to meet him here at Anvil headquarters so you could finally interview him for that story in the Bulletin, this isn’t exactly what you were expecting. 

Instead of being seated in his second floor office overlooking the main part of the warehouse, you’re standing in the basement dressed in your crisp white blouse, hastily pressed pencil skirt, and low heels. You toy with the press pass hanging around your neck, unsure what to do with your hands. 

Your interview subject, however, seems quite relaxed save for the slight wrinkle between his dark brows as he very deliberately lays out several objects on a table in the middle of the room. He’s switched out his usual sharp business attire for a green pullover that looks soft to the touch, dark cargo pants, and a pair of combat boots. 

It takes you a few seconds to find your voice, because does he have to recline against the damn thing like that? He looks tall and lean, but damn it when he’s like this, showing off the corded muscles in his arms and shoulders, you cannot doubt that he’s an ex-Marine. 

“Russo?” 

“Hm?” He hums distractedly. 

“Are those knives?” 

Well, that gets his attention. He lifts his head and finally makes direct eye contact, and a shiver shoots down your spine. 

“Yeah, they are,” he confirms casually, as if you’ve just asked him if the sky is blue. He leans his hands on the table, shamelessly giving you a slow and careful once over before he frowns a little. “You’re gonna have to change.” 

“I feel compelled to tell you Karen knows I’m here,” you say quickly, raising an inquisitive eyebrow when he just chuckles like you’ve said something adorably funny. “Also, I thought we were doing an interview?” 

Billy Russo stares expectantly at you for a few seconds, lips slowly turning upward into a mysterious smile that you know has captured hearts all over the city. 

But you won’t fall for that, will you? 

Nope. Not in the slightest. 

“Nah, not yet anyway. Sorry, darlin’.” 

Ignore that! You scream mentally, but your brain does not cooperate. “Then what am I doing here, Lieutenant?” 

Whoops. His head snaps up again, his already sunless eyes getting darker by the second. Without breaking the intense eye contact, he just gestures around the room as though it’s oh so obvious. 

“Self-defence training.” 

“And why would I need—ugh, I don’t have time for this, Billy.” You heave a sigh, dropping all pretenses now, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. 

You’ve always known that Billy marches to the beat of his own drum, ever since the two of you met when Karen introduced you a few months ago while you were researching for a story about army veterans—a friend of a friend’s, she’d said, but never elaborated—but this seems excessive. 

“You wouldn’t have come if I were honest,” he says, his smile falling away in an instant, the glint of amusement in his eyes disappearing like smoke in the wind. “I don’t need to remind you of the… unpleasantness that happened last week.” 

“And yet here we are,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m fine.” 

“You were attacked,” Billy corrects, walking around the table to perch himself on the edge closest to you. You roll your eyes; as if you’ve forgotten. Getting ambushed in front of your apartment by two masked assailants isn’t exactly an easy thing to forget. 

“Everything worked out, didn’t it?” You uncross your arms and saunter over to the table, ignoring the heavy weight of his gaze on you. And it really had! 

Just as one of your would-be kidnappers, whatever it was they wanted, hit you in the face in retaliation for you kicking him in the shins and biting the other on the arm, your neighbour had come out of the apartment building just in time and began screaming bloody murder. They had no choice but to drop you and run, leaving you dishevelled and bruised, but otherwise fine, on the sidewalk. 

“They could come back,” Billy points out, since they obviously didn’t get what they’d come for, the same thing the police had said when they arrived just minutes later. You didn’t think much of it, though. Karen had had her fair share of run-ins with such undesirables, and she assured that this just meant you were pushing precisely the right buttons as a reporter. 

Even so, she still urged you to call Billy for protection.

You wonder if he gets all of his clients to undergo this self-defence training, or if he always personally offers to instruct them.

“Can’t guarantee it won’t happen again,” Billy doesn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. The two of you stare for a moment, engaging in a silent battle of wits that you, of course, end up losing when you’re the first to look away. He nods at the various knives and daggers strewn across the table. “C’mon, pick one and we’ll start small.” 

“Small?” You squeak as you eye the particularly ornate handle on one of the knives that honestly looks more like a short sword. 

“Aw, don’t be scared,” Billy chuckles and pats you on the shoulder, watching with those hawkish eyes of his as you consider your options. “This is a safe space.” 

Is it though? You wonder as you pick up a small dagger closest to you. “Wouldn’t guns make more sense since I’m not exactly trained in hand to hand combat?” 

“I am training you. And you’re not ready for guns yet,” Billy grins when you unsheathe the dagger, eyes widening just a fraction at the way the blade glints in the light. “‘Sides, picturin’ you with a knife is way hotter. You gonna wear a thigh holster?” 

You flick the tip of the blade in his direction, “Watch it, Russo. I’m armed.” 

But he just laughs, a sound that comes with a dangerous surge of pride in your chest, “That’s not how you hold a dagger.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you bristle, cheeks warming and trying not to watch, enraptured, as he stands up to his full height, his boots thumping heavily on the concrete. 

“Careful,” he warns, but he sounds more amused than offended as he closes the distance between you in just a few small strides. “You’d better play nice if you still want that interview.” 

But there’s nothing professional about the way he steps behind you, the way his arms pull you back against his chest, or the way his hand lands on yours to adjust your grip on the dagger’s handle. 

“Not all of us can be badass ex-Marines, can we?” It takes everything you have not to stammer, not to gulp nervously when you feel the calloused ridge of his trigger finger caressing the same spot on your own hand. 

“Yeah, well, I believe in you,” you can hear the smirk in his voice as his free hand comes down to rest on your hip, warm and heavy as it guides you slowly into a proper stance. “Bend your knees a little.” 

“Pretty sure I hired you so I wouldn’t have to take matters into my own hands like this,” you huff in annoyance, grumbling but following his instructions anyway, feeling a bit silly doing this in your work clothes. He never did give you a chance to change. 

“Please, you couldn’t afford me,” Billy murmurs so low against your ear that it sends a shiver down the side of your neck, all the way to a certain part of your anatomy you refuse to acknowledge at the moment, his beard slightly rough against your cheek. Is he doing this on purpose? “Also, did you technically hire me if I’m doing this pro bono?”

“Yeah, and on that note,” you grow bold when he squeezes your hip in encouragement, leaning back against him with your arm extended, your hands joined together, the tip of the dagger’s blade angled upward at an imaginary assailant. “Why are you? The Billy Russo I know never works for free.” 

You see, you know precisely the kind of man Billy is. He would never invest this kind of time and energy into something like this, not unless he had something to gain from it—

Even without looking back, you feel his dark obsidian gaze on the still healing bruise that’s formed on the side of your face. His fingers tighten around yours, there’s a slight hitch in his breath you can feel with his chest pressed to your back, and the hand on your hip slides forward and around to your other side in an almost embrace. Protective, possessive, and maybe even a little petrified.

—or unless he had some type of skin in the game. 

And suddenly, despite the way you’re dressed and your hilarious lack of experience, you start to feel pretty invincible. You allow yourself a proud grin, squaring your shoulders so you stand a little taller in his arms.

They fall instantly, however, when Billy steps away and moves to stand directly in front of you. You feel immensely colder at the loss of proximity. 

“Alright, let’s see what you got,” he’s smirking again, all that vulnerability and whatever warmth you sensed in his body language once again hidden away behind a layer of arrogance and swagger. He beckons you with a come here gesture of his hand. 

“What?” You blink. 

“I’ve just broken into your apartment,” he states matter-of factly, “what do you do?” He coaxes you again with another wave.

“But wait!” You almost shriek, your bout of confidence once again faltering. “You didn’t even teach me anything yet!” 

“I need to see where you’re at first before I can teach you, darlin’,” he’s still smirking, half condescending and half amused, and your hands twitch to fling the knife at his stupid head.

“I’m at nowhere! I’ve got nothing! And you don’t even have a weapon, I could slice your damn face off!” Or worse, scar it. 

Billy laughs again, his eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. “Oh, sweetheart, you can certainly try.” 

to be continued…

PART 2 »

© 2025 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. no part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. followers with zero engagement, serial likers and blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.