“Hang on a second.” Billy says, his voice clear as he stands from his chair at the back of the small church and makes his way towards the front where you’re standing at the altar. “So, Sophie may be mine, but she may be Matt or Frank’s?”
You nod, holding your head high as Billy stands in front of you.
“Yeah that’s right, and you needn’t sound so self righteous about it. You have no one but yourself to blame.”
Your daughter, Sophie, throws her veil back, revealing her dark eyes that are narrowed at Billy.
“Yeah, if you hadn’t dumped my mom and married someone else…”
It’s been years since you had seen Billy. Years since his departure had hurt you. But you’re glad Sophie is expressing the same frustration you felt when Billy had left you.
“Hey hey, wait a minute.” Billy interrupts. “I had to go back to New York. I was engaged. But I told Dinah I couldn’t marry her, and I came right back.”
Your face falls, shock filling your features.
“You came back?” You ask in a small voice. Billy nods. “Why didn’t you call me?”
He stares at you, shrugging slightly with a depreciating laugh.
“Because I was crazy enough to think you’d be waiting for me.” His eyes meet yours, as he sighs quietly. “Only when I arrived they told me you were off with some other guy.”
Guilt washes over your face, warming your cheeks as you glance slightly at where Frank and Matt are sitting.
“Dinah called me an idiot, and married me to prove it.”
There’s sadness in his eyes as he looks at you, no doubt imagining the life the two of you could have had together. Raising Sophie together. Founding the hotel you now own. He shakes his head slightly.
“I should have looked for you.”
“I don’t think that would have changed anything.”
“Then I shouldn’t have left in the first place.”
“I wouldn’t have let you stay.” He breathes out a tiny laugh, and you remark quietly, “I guess we’re both idiots?”
“Not much has changed then.” He says with a small grin. A fond smile tugs at your lips,
“Speak for yourself Russo.”
His own smile softens - into something you never thought you would see again. He takes a tentative step towards you. His gaze trailing from your eyes to your lips. Even after all these years, you recognise the glint in his eyes, and the corner of your mouth quirks into a smirk as you step forward to meet him.
His head dips down, and your fingers curl around the front of his shirt as you pull him into the last few inches between you both. Then Billy’s lips meet yours, and the years melt away.
Boutique Owner!Fem!Reader x CEO!Single Dad!Billy Russo
(small drabble under the cut)
You’ve known Billy Russo for several years now. You were the one who sold him his first suit, and the one who pressed it to perfection on the day he visited the bank - the day he secured the loan which allowed him to open Anvil. You think you had a very minor impact on these events, believing that Billy’s passion and determination would have carried him through regardless. Billy, however, owes a small piece of his success to you, even though he’s never mentioned it to you.
You’re also very fond of his daughter, Ava. Whenever Billy visits your store, Ava always insists on helping you pick out Billy’s outfits. Meaning that, you usually point Billy in the direction of your newest collections whilst you scoop Ava up into your arms and together you pick out a new tie for Billy.
One day, Billy is telling you all about his celebratory gala in honour of five successful years of business for Anvil. As usual, you help him pick out a suit.
“Will that be all Mr Russo?” You ask with a smile. He glances around at the racks of clothes surrounding you both, before asking,
“You sell dresses don’t you?” You nod in confirmation, before you ask him,
“Anything in particular?” He looks down before holding up the tie he’s planning on wearing for the gala.
“Something to match this?” You nod quickly and head towards the back of the store, with Billy following behind you. Looking through the dresses, you try to ignore the thought of Billy taking a date to his gala. The two of you had been friends for years - it would never be anything more.
“There’s this?” You say, pulling one of the dresses out to show Billy. The colour is a perfect match for his tie. He looks the dress up and down, then grins.
“It’s perfect. What sizes do you do?”
“What size are you after?” You ask, fingers skimming over the hangers as you take in the different sizes available.
“Whatever your size is.” You freeze at his words, turning to look at him.
His smile is almost shy as he adds,
“That was my attempt at asking you out smoothly.” His lips quirk into a small grin, “Did it work?”
There’s a throbbing behind your eyes, and your side aches as you shift beneath the soft silk covers. Then you frown. Silk covers? Where are you?
Then you remember. Climbing through the pillars of stone that support the foundations of the Cavern of Stygia - known for its pitch black tunnels and the low survival rate of explorers who dare to brave the darkness. Your torch had gone out, and you had squeezed your way through a large fissure in the rock after catching a glimpse of light. Feeling your way through the dark, you thought you could hear voices in the distance.
There was a sickening crack, and the floor seemed to dissolve beneath you. You must have lost consciousness. But that still doesn’t explain the silk sheets.
You open your eyes slowly, though the low light in the room helps with your aching head. As you tilt your head to survey your surroundings, you hear a voice remark softly,
“You’re awake.” You sit up hurriedly in alarm, ignoring the searing pain as your body protests against the sudden motion. A cushioned headboard presses into your spine as you back away from the figure standing at the end of the bed. A pair of impossibly dark eyes meet your frantic ones. A shiver runs through you as you note his lack of irises.
You swallow hard, trying to keep your breathing steady as you come to the realisation that you are in the company of a Dark Elf - meaning that you are in a colossal amount of trouble.
If the pitch black eyes weren’t indication enough, as your eyes adjust to the low light more of his features become clear to you. Pale skin, with deep scars that trace their way over his cheeks and forehead. There’s some dark facial hair surrounding his lips that creeps over his jawline. His hair looks thick, though it’s currently slicked back, and it’s just as dark as his eyes.
Your eyes flicker briefly over the room, taking note of the contents. Everything looks ornate and luxurious - all in varying shades of black with shimmering silver accents threaded throughout the room.
“You’re a clever little thing aren’t you?” He muses, and you raise your eyebrows questioningly, hardly daring to voice your thoughts. “Awake for barely a minute and you’ve already picked up on three exits.”
You swallow hard, your eyes fixed on him.
“I hope I don’t have to tell you not to bother. You won’t get passed me.”
He’s right. There’s no chance of you fighting him off. Out of all the species of Elves, Dark Elves are the most dangerous. They pride themselves on their ruthlessness, and are trained to kill from infancy. His smile twists dangerously,
“Though I wouldn’t mind if you tried.”
They’re also known for their sadistic nature.
You remain still, every muscle in your body tensed in wary anticipation. The elf in front of you is still watching you with his dark eyes, a spark of curiosity dancing in their depths.
“You know what I am?” He asks, and you nod slowly. There’s a small crease of confusion that crinkles his forehead, making the scars there shift slightly. “And you’re not screaming?”
Your voice is a little hoarse as you remark quietly,
“I doubt screaming would help me.” He laughs, and it’s a clear, chilling sound.
“So clever.” He remarks in a sigh, before asking in a small voice, “Will you say it?”
“A Dark Elf.” He grins, leaning closer, his hands press onto the obsidian covers at the foot of the bed.
“Would the clever little human like to share their knowledge?” He phrases it like a question, but you scour your memory quickly.
“Dark Elves live deep underground. They rarely visit the world above, and are known for their efficiency with weapons and fighting.” Your voice is unsteady, and you trail off at the end. His gaze is far too direct and you don’t know whether you should meet his eyes or look away.
“Anything else?” He prompts, knowing that there’s one fact in particular that’s been burning bright in your thoughts. After a shaky breath you add,
“Dark Elves enjoy torturing humans.” He shrugs lightly as he moves slowly around the bed.
“That’s actually a common misconception.” You frown before asking tentatively,
“You don’t like torturing humans?”
“I didn’t say that.” He says with a smirk. “It’s usually more of a personal preference.” You decide not to ask what his preference is, not certain whether you’ll like the answer.
He leans his hip against the bed, his eyes still fixed on you.
“Did you know we have a matriarchal society?” He asks, his head tilted to watch your reaction. You shake your head, and he continues. “Meaning that, whilst I have value as a Lieutenant, my standing in society will always be lesser - without a wife.” The corner of his mouth curls when he catches the confusion in your eyes, and he shifts closer.
“Humans are quite the rarity for us. Every elf dreams of having a human spouse.” His eyes roam appreciatively over you, and your cheeks warm instinctively. “Soft and warm, where we are cold and hard.” There’s an edge of longing in his voice, before he sits down on the bed beside your legs, and he remarks offhandedly, “You have no idea how many people I had to fight off to bring you home with me.” Your eyes widen when you realise what he means. That he had most likely killed the other elves that had tried to take you for themselves.
He reaches out, tracing a finger over your cheek delicately. His fingers are pale and cold, and a shiver runs through you at the feeling of his skin brushing so tenderly against yours. His voice is quiet as he purrs,
“With a little treasure like you for a wife, I’d be practically royalty.”
You retreat, shaking your head as your heart hammers in your chest. Your fingers curl tight in the pillow beneath you, and the elf in front of you tilts his head as he watches your reaction.
“No?” He asks softly, and you swallow hard.
“I can’t marry you.” He pushes himself off the bed, crossing over to the drawn curtains. You narrow your eyes in expectation, waiting for the room to be bathed in light. Instead, the level of light barely increases.
“You think you’d survive out there on your own?”
The smooth wooden floor is cold against your bare feet as you cross the room, you eye the man beside you warily, before you turn to look out from behind the glass. You can feel his gaze on you, as you stare out of the window, but you’re too shocked to care.
You’re in an underground cavern, dark rock enclosed around you for as far as you can see. Roads and pathways have been carved into the stone, which allow elves to wind their way along the streets. Strange, pale lanterns provide the only light, as well as the low light from the windows of houses. You’re surprised by how beautiful the buildings are, all made of stone with intricate carvings that include mixtures of precious stones and metals which simmer in the muted glow of the lanterns.
His voice is low, and he’s closer than you realised as he speaks.
“There’s countless elves that would see you as their own personal toy. Your only purpose would be a pretty thing for them to break.”
“And you don’t?”
“I won’t hurt you.” He insists, his voice serious. Then he smirks. “Not unless you ask me to.”
“How can I trust you?” You reason, and he shrugs lightly.
“You can’t. But I have an offer for you.” You eye him cautiously as he continues, “You can’t go back to your own world yet.” You frown at him, alarmed by his assurance.
“Why?”
“The only way out is through climbing the Starless Steps.” Your frown deepens, and he continues. “The only time the Steps are visible is during the height of the Full Moon, meaning that you have a whole month until you can leave.”
The Starless Steps. The moon must have been at its height when you climbed down, and it must have shifted when you were plunged into darkness. Which was how you had ended up falling down and losing consciousness.
“What’s your offer?” You ask warily.
“Spend the month with me.” Your eyes widen, and he hurries to continue his explanation. “If, by the day before the next Full Moon, you don’t want to marry me then I will personally take you to the Steps.”
“And if I try to leave now?”
“I’d say that’s a waste of a good opportunity - for us both.”
“For us both?” You remark, with doubt in your voice. He nods,
“Yes. I get granted the social status I want, and you get to live a life of luxury.”
“Who says I want that?”
“Everybody wants that.” He looks around the room. “All of this could be yours, clothes, jewels, the house itself.”
“I don’t even know your name.” You say softly, and he turns back to study you with his dark eyes. There’s a crease between his brows for a moment, then his expression softens,
“It’s Billy.” Such a normal name - you’re rather taken aback by it. You look down at the floor briefly.
“Just Billy?” He shakes his head lightly, with a soft grin,
Billy opens up Blackbird Studios, the tattoo shop, buying the space next door to your cafe - The Bird’s Nest. Due to the similarity of the names of your businesses, people often comment on how cute of a couple you are, even though you and Billy have never actually met. Though in the few months since Billy opened up shop, you have met Billy’s friend Frank, and his wife Maria, as they often let their kids stay in your cafe while Frank gets a new tattoo from Billy.
(kinda inspired by the John Wick Universe - there’s also a little hint that the reader is bi but it’s only a sentence or so)
drabble under the cut
“Business or pleasure?” A familiar voice asks you. A smile tugs at your lips, and against your best efforts, your heart skips a beat. You tilt your head aside, looking at the man beside you. Billy Russo smoothes down the front of his perfectly pressed suit as he leans his back against the bar. The bartender places your drink down in front of you.
“You know the rules Russo, no business on hotel grounds.”
“And you’re such a stickler for the rules, aren’t you darlin?” You shake your head at him with a small sigh, trying to ignore the warmth blooming over your cheeks. He smiles teasingly as he leans closer to you, speaking in a low voice, “You know a little birdie told me, that you might be in line to take over this place after good old Alfred kicks the bucket.”
“Oh really?” You remark coyly, narrowing your eyes at him. “Can I guess which little birdie?” He shrugs, rolling his shoulder lightly,
“Feel free.” You hum in thought, looking down at your glass.
“Angela? No, wait no. She’s not your type.” You tap your finger against your lips, your brows creased in thought. You don’t notice Billy’s eyes fixed on your lips. “Lucy.”
He tilts his head aside with a tiny frown.
“How do you know what my type is?”
“Was it Lucy?” He nods, his frown still evident. A victorious smile tugs at your lips, and you take another sip of your drink. Noticing Billy’s frown hasn’t softened, you add an explanation, “We have the same type.” He takes a drink, his eyes never leaving your face.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He says, his voice deepening slightly which makes you shiver. “You didn’t answer my question earlier. Business or pleasure?”
“Pleasure.” You respond, taking a sip of your drink with a small hum of satisfaction. “These are the only drinks in the city I can trust.” Billy signals to the bartender, a silent request for his usual. “What about you - business or pleasure?”
A wicked grin spreads across Billy’s face, his eyes dark in the low light of the bar.
“Both.” You laugh lightly, shaking your head at him. He nods in thanks to the bartender as his drink is placed down in front of him.
“Isn’t it always with you?” You remark teasingly. His mouth parts in faux shock, before he mumbles into his drink.
“Not sure if I should be offended by that.” You shrug lightly before explaining,
“If you’re here on business you usually find a good looking someone to spend the night with.” Mischief fills Billy’s eyes in response to your words, and he leans one arm against the bar as he looks at you. “And if you’re here for pleasure, your buddy Frank usually ends up pulling you onto one of his jobs.”
“You’re very observant.” He says earnestly, then a smirk tugs at his lips. “Should I be concerned?”
“I told you. I’m not here on business.”
“Would you be open to somethin’?” You mull it over briefly, it wouldn’t be the first time you and Billy worked a job together.
“Depends.” You say, and Billy’s smile widens. “What’s the job description?” His tongue darts out, licking a line over his teeth and he grins when he notices your eyes following the motion. His dark eyes look you up and down as he takes another drink, before he sets his glass down in front of you.
Summary: As a part of an undercover operation to gain inside access to Russo’s illegal activity, you end up getting more than you bargained for.
Warnings [18+]: public sex, fingering, dirty talk, sir kink, bit of praise kink, smidge of humiliation, tiny bit of pussy slapping, Billy technically ends up owning the reader so that’s a little dodgy (but it’s a mafia!au so it could be a lot worse)
“There’s no way Russo would fall for that.” You insist, your hands on your hips as you hear Jim talk you through his latest plan.
“Our behaviourists have picked up on the fact that he generally tends to protect vulnerable women.” He reasons with a shrug as he spins his chair around to face you.
“Well it’s nice to know he’s not a complete asshole.” You remark.
“We think it’ll work.”
“Didn’t he murder his last girlfriend?”
“That was an abnormality.”
“Let’s hope it wasn’t a common abnormality - for the sake of the poor girl who’s subjecting herself to your crazy ideas.”
“Collins has already put your name forward.” Your mouth drops open.
“Me? I can’t do it.”
“Why not? You’ve got experience working undercover, you know plenty about his business already, and - the most important part - he won’t recognise you.” You frown at him, as he continues to explain. “The majority of us have had altercations with either Russo or his men - you haven’t for some reason.”
You hope that you manage to look surprised by this revelation of his. Though you’re not surprised at all - Billy somehow always knows which ops you’re on, and clears out his men before you even arrive.
But Jim’s plan relies solely on the fact that Billy won’t know the chosen agent. The story he’s manufactured is actually rather good - you will admit that.
You would be visiting one of Billy’s clubs with a small group of female agents who would be acting as your friends, and one male agent who would be your fake boyfriend. You would be playing the classic, innocent girl dragged to a club by her friends, and her thoroughly dissatisfying boyfriend.
Your boyfriend would be tasked with racking up a large amount of debt by losing as many games as possible. When he fails to pay up, the plan is for him to offer you to his opponent as compensation. Jim is certain that Russo would step in, either claiming you for himself or simply throwing your group out of the club.
The only problem is, Billy knows what you look like, and he certainly knows what your voice sounds like. You’re positive he would know you anywhere. But, of course, you can’t tell Jim that. You can’t tell anyone that you regularly chat - amongst lots of other things - to the infamous mobster.
A small, hopeful, part of you believes that the plan would still work out. That Billy would try and protect you. But the rational part of you insists that he’ll see through the act, and he’ll send his men after you - he might even kill you himself. Whilst you want to feel assured by your somewhat unusual relationship with him, you’re not. Actually meeting him in person seems surreal. What if he sees you in person and decides you’re actually not worth pursuing anymore? What if he’s only interested in you at a distance?
»»———————►
This is a bad idea. It’s a terrible, terrible idea. Yet somehow you are sipping on a drink that is approximately 95 percent fruit juice, in a white dress. You had protested against the white dress, no one ever actually falls for the innocent girl in a white dress act. But Jim insisted, so here you are. It’s a nice club, you will admit. Somehow, your group had managed to get into the more upscale area which suits you just fine.
You haven’t seen Billy yet, and whilst you don’t know exactly what he looks like, you’re certain you’ll recognise him. Your mind drifts back to a conversation between the two of you.
“Do you know what I look like?” He asks. You’re lying down on your bed, your phone tucked into the crook of your shoulder as you talk to Billy.
“I know you’re 6 feet tall. Black hair, brown eyes, white Caucasian.” You say, recounting the facts from his file. “I’ve seen a grainy photo of you, but your face was practically a pinprick. So I have an idea, but not really.”
“Does that bother you?”
“On the list of things that bother me, that’s at the very bottom.”
Now you’re nervous at the thought of not recognising him - you’re also nervous at the thought of him actually recognising you. Would he just walk up to you? Would he ignore you completely?
You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you lose focus of the game in front of you. David - your fake boyfriend - has already lost a lot of money. Then the unexpected happens. The agent tasked with opposing David gets interrupted.
“Mind if I cut in?” A familiar voice asks smoothly. You look up, meeting a pair of dark eyes. Your breath catches in your throat. It’s him. It’s finally him. Billy Russo. His eyes are still locked on yours as he unbuttons his suit jacket, and takes the seat across from you. The agent in front of you casts you an apologetic look before he hurries away - not wanting to fall onto Russo’s bad side. But you haven’t looked away from Billy’s eyes. They’re so dark. You’re hardly breathing, far too captivated by him to notice the lack of oxygen, though you do feel a little dizzy. His dark hair is slicked back perfectly, and you can’t help but wonder how disheveled it would look after running your hands through it. There’s a few thin scars over his forehead, but the largest ones curl over both of his cheeks in jagged patterns. There’s two scars over the bridge of his nose as well. Your eyes merely ghost over the scars, not paying too much attention to them. Your gaze shifts to his lips, and the dark stubble surrounding them before drifting down his neck to look at the immaculate, tailored suit that hugs his body perfectly.
He knows you’re eyeing him, and he smirks, running his tongue over his teeth. The sight of his tongue pushes the last of your thoughts from your head. A thrill runs through Billy at the sight of your eyes darkening to match his own hungry gaze. Your dress doesn’t reveal too much of your body, which Billy appreciates. He doesn’t want anyone else looking at you the way he is currently looking at you.
You’re so distracted by Billy’s sudden appearance that you forget why you’re even here. That is until David’s hand settles on your thigh. You jump a little at the contact, and you shift slightly away from him. His hand is a little too close for comfort, and since it’s beneath the table you know it isn’t a part of the act. Your eyes flicker to his as he takes a drink, a grin on his face. There’s thinly veiled disgust in your eyes. The two of you have never got along with one another - you were surprised when you were partnered on this op.
Luckily, one of the female agents asks you to join on a visit to the restroom. You nod, but David’s hand wraps around your wrist as you stand.
“Where are you going?” He asks with a frown.
“Restroom.” You inform him, hoping that your tone conveys how many lines he is currently crossing. Your expression softens dangerously, “That okay darling?” He returns your smile, releasing his hold on you.
“Course it is.” Billy watches your fists clench and unclench as you walk away. A small smile curls at his lips at the thought of you punching David in the face. Though, Billy has some far more extensive plans for David’s fate.
You’re not gone for long. You spend a little time checking your makeup and complaining about David and his audacity. You frown when you see Billy and David still playing.
“Why is he still playing against Russo?” The agent beside you murmurs. A small sigh of frustration falls from your lips before you reply,
“I don’t know.”
You look uncertain as you make your way back to the table. The majority of the women who visit Billy’s clubs wear black, red, or some other dark colour. Dressed in white, you look like a lost little lamb. Billy knows that quick mind of yours is trying to figure out what he’s up to, but from the looks of that sweet confusion in your eyes you don’t know what’s going on.
David doesn’t look at you as you sit back down beside him. He doesn’t move to touch you either, which you appreciate, but it confuses you. Billy smiles amicably at you, and you know something is wrong.
“Your boyfriend here has racked up quite the debt.”
“Cards clearly isn’t his strong suit.” Billy’s eyes glitter in amusement. “But whatever it is, he can pay it.” Billy assumes that your statement is meant to sound like innocent optimism, but he hears the prompting in your tone as you look at David. There’s a company credit card in his wallet, one to use in emergencies like this. Yes, your department will lose a large chunk of their budget, but none of their agents end up in the hands of dangerous criminals.
David meets your eyes warily, and your expression falls. You turn to face him harshly, rummaging your hands through the pockets of his blazer to search for the card. Finding nothing, you pull out his wallet. Opening it up, you scour the contents frantically.
“You don’t have it.”
“I thought I wouldn’t need it.” He argues, and you’re tempted to throttle him. You breathe out slowly, trying to find some way to ensure that none of your team dies for David’s mistake.
“Mr Russo, I’m so sorry-“ He waves away your apology.
“Don’t you worry your sweet little head about it. Your boyfriend and I have come to an agreement.” You swallow hard, not sure if you like how pleased Billy looks.
“You have?” Billy finds himself enjoying the uncertainty in your eyes, especially when he knows what the endgame of tonight will be.
“His debt has been settled. Him and your friends are free to go.”
“But?” He tilts his head, pleased that you picked up on the catch.
“But you’ll be stayin’ with me.” A few of the agents exchange looks, not wanting to leave you behind, but they certainly didn’t want to argue with Billy Russo of all people. When Jim had first walked you through the plan, you had considered something like this happening. Never in your wildest dreams had you thought Billy would actually be willing to take you for himself. You nod faintly at them, assuring them that you would be fine. Slowly, they gather themselves together and Billy’s men escort them out.
You keep your gaze on the table separating the two of you, afraid of losing yourself in his eyes again. Once you do find the courage to lift your head, you find his eyes already on you.
“So,” you say in a timid voice. “What now?”
»»———————►
Your body thuds against the cold wall behind you, and you feel the chill of it through your thin dress. Billy’s mouth is on yours and you melt against his lips. He grips the back of your neck hard, squeezing the muscles there, which pulls a moan from your lips. His all encompassing kiss muffles the sound of it, but Billy feels it in your chest, pressed tightly against his own.
Billy had walked you out to the deserted lobby, where the two of you were waiting for the valet to bring his car around. His arm around your waist, the two of you had exchanged several heated looks before Billy’s mouth was on yours, pressing you against a wall.
“You’re not thinkin’ straight.” Billy says against your lips, his mouth moving against yours as his other hand grasps at your hip. A frown creases at your brows as you struggle to understand his words. “You’re in shock.” He catches your lower lip between his, and sucks on it gently, drawing another moan from you. “Poor thing.” You whimper at his almost sympathetic tone. “Abandoned by her friends, throwin’ herself at the only person who’ll make her feel safe.” You know his words are most likely correct. You’re probably an idiot for feeling safe around him of all people. But you’ve also wanted to kiss him for months now.
“Please.” You whine.
“So desperate.” He remarks lowly with a smirk. Both of his hands dip lower, one squeezes at your ass, the other pawing lightly at your breast. “I bet you’d let me fuck you right here in the lobby.” His words remind you of how public your little display would be. You shake your head, your cheeks warming in embarrassment. He breathes out a sharp laugh. “No? You wouldn’t?” You shake your head again, your desperation leaking into your movements.
“No.” You insist, but your voice is shaky and filled with need. “I wouldn’t.” He hums in acknowledgement, as if he doesn’t really believe you and is only agreeing to pacify you. He sucks at the exposed skin of your shoulder, his teeth scraping lightly over your collarbone. You tip your head back, knocking it lightly against the wall behind you. He trails his lips up your neck so murmur against your ear,
“I’m sure it won’t be long before you’ll let me fuck you anywhere.” Your mind unhelpfully supplies you with a number of different places he could have his way with you. You whimper at the thought of your legs wound tightly around his waist, your back arched over different pieces of furniture as he fucks you.
He takes your earlobe into his mouth and your hips shift forwards in an attempt at finding some friction. Billy’s hands grasp at your hips, holding your hard against the wall.
“I wonder,” he whispers softly against your ear. “If I slip my fingers into those lace panties of yours, will that little pussy be wet already?”
“How- how do you know they’re lace?” You ask with a gasp.
“The whole good little girl act, you’re definitely wearing lace under this.” He remarks, smoothing the fabric of your skirt between his fingers. Then he slides both his hands under your skirt, stroking your bare thighs and you keen into his touch. Your hands are still grasping tightly at his arms, fingers curled into the fabric of his blazer. You’re not sure whether you’re ready to pull him closer or push him away, but you don’t have the strength to do either.
When his fingers trace the edge of your panties, his face breaks into a grin.
“Now look at that.” He ducks his head down to look under your skirt. “White lace panties.”
His thumbs dig into the flesh of your thighs and you rut your hips further into his touch. He tuts at you.
“No movin’ darlin. You get what I give you.” You let go of his arms, pressing your hands against the cold wall behind you, you lean your entire body against it, hoping that it’ll keep you steady. Billy squeezes your thighs, before sliding his hand to to cup against your clothed pussy. His eyes drink in every inch of you as you try your hardest to obey him and not buck against his hand. There’s an adorable crease in your brows, and your chest heaves as he begins to rub his hand against your pussy. He groans when he feels your wetness seeping through the fabric. He’ll be able to smell you on his hand for the rest of the night. He takes a step closer, pressing his entire body against yours.
“You know you’ve been a very bad girl this evening.” He says sternly against your ear and he feels you tremble. “Puttin’ yourself in danger like that.” He speeds up the motion of his hand, before stopping to gently rub against your clit. Your toes curl in your shoes, as sparks of pleasure course through your body. “That idiot coulda been playin’ against any old criminal. Would he have sold you to them?” He muses darkly. Billy would never have let that happen. You were his, and his alone. “You’re lucky I was there. Least now you’ve got an owner that’ll take care of you.”
As always, his words have you nearly falling to pieces, and his fingers press harder against your clothed clit which prompts you to choke on a moan. He hooks a finger under your chin, guiding your wide eyes to his, and once again you’re drowning in their depths.
“I will have to punish you for this. You understand that don’t you, sweet girl?” He asks you in such a soft voice that you nearly melt.
“Yes sir.” You agree, tilting your head back against the wall again. “Oh please.”
“Please? You wanna cum darlin?” You nod hurriedly, gasping erratically against his touch. “You really think you deserve it?” You whine, shaking your head.
“Words, darlin.”
“No sir. I don’t deserve it.” He grins, you’re so perfect already. He can’t wait to break you in properly. His grin turns wicked as he swats lightly against your sensitive clit. A startled yelp is ripped from your throat, and you begin to plead. “Oh please sir.”
He rubs a few soothing circles over your mound before he gives you another gentle swat, which has you whimpering in need. He tilts his head aside, you seem to be enjoying his harsher treatment.
“How about a deal?” He proposes. “I let you cum here and now, ruinin’ those sweet little panties.” You whine at the mere thought of being granted an orgasm. “In return, you come home with me.” You stare up at him with wide eyes. “No fightin’, no runnin’, just you bein’ a good girl for me.”
You don’t hesitate for as long as you should. As soon as you nod, Billy props your legs apart with his own.
“Words, darlin.”
“Yes sir. I’ll come home with you.” A growl hums in his throat at your submission, at allowing him to take you to his house, where you will be at his complete mercy whenever he wants you.
He pulls your panties aside, sliding one finger inside your dripping pussy. You cry out at the unexpected intrusion, clenching tightly around his finger. With his other hand he works at your clit, rubbing firm circles that have you gasping. His mouth returns to your neck, dragging the soft skin there between his teeth. You squeeze your eyes closed tightly as you climax, slumping your body against Billy’s. He slows his motions, drawing out your pleasure. There’s a beautiful glaze over your eyes as Billy looks down at you. Your breathing is beginning to even out as you come down from your high, leaving you with shaky legs as you cling to Billy. He smiles at the sight of you looking so dependent on him, fucked out of your head by his fingers, curling yourself against his chest. He withdraws his fingers from your panties, and he marvels at how wet they look as he traces them over your lips. You mindlessly open your mouth to accept his fingers, humming at the taste of your release. Billy’s eyes nearly roll back in his head as your tongue laps at his digits. Fuck, you really are perfect for him.
He wraps his arms around you, keeping you against his chest for a few moments longer. The warmth of his body is comforting, as the chill of the lobby has you shivering lightly. Billy tugs his blazer off, before settling it on your shoulders. His warmth and scent envelopes you, and you shudder at the sudden sense of comfort. You still cling to the front of his shirt, and he keeps an arm around you.
“Think you can walk to the car, sweet girl?” He asks teasingly, but it’s a genuine question. Billy would gladly carry you to the car, and you’re not one hundred percent certain your legs will hold. But you nod, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. He keeps you tucked against his side as you walk through the rest of the lobby.
Billy opens the passenger door of his car, and you sit down.
A small huff leaves your lips as you pull at the seatbelt. Billy leans over, taking the buckle from your hands and securing it around you. Your wide eyes meet his, and he smiles gently at you before he reaches down to slide your shoes off, casting them down into the footwell. Once he’s done, he traces his fingers over your cheek.
“Feel free to get some sleep, sweet girl.” He withdraws from you, shutting the car door behind him. Billy walks around the car, and opens the drivers door before sitting down. The keys slide into the ignition and the car hums to life.
Practically speaking, you should stay awake and see where he takes you since he is sort of kidnapping you. But you’re going willingly? So is it kidnapping? Billy watches as your brows crease, and he smiles at the sight of your pout. You fold your legs underneath you and settle your face against the side of the chair. Billy turns the heat on, and you’re soon feeling cosy with the scent of his cologne filling the small space.
Billy can sense the moment you drift off to sleep, and he drives as smoothly as possible, ensuring that you remain asleep the entire drive home.
The events of the Punisher season one are the same, with Billy betraying Frank, and the showdown at the carousel which leaves Billy scarred.
When he wakes up, the majority of his memories are intact though he feigns amnesia to manipulate his therapist - Dr Durmont.
He’s familiar with people using him to achieve their own means, and he can see that Durmont is slowly becoming infatuated with him.
So, once he’s broken out of the hospital he seeks out Durmont who provides him with a place to stay, and access to a number of other former soldiers which he recruits into his business.
From there, Billy rebuilds his empire.
He picks up contacts he knew through Rawlins, establishing himself as a name in the weapons smuggling business.
He makes his money, buying more and more of the city, until he owns a number of clubs and hotels, establishing his territory clearly.
Durmont was a means to an end, though there were times where Billy believed her words. That she was the only one who would ever look out for him.
He kills her himself. As a statement to her, and himself, that he doesn’t need anyone to look out for him.
Then you appear.
You work for the FBI or some other government agency.
You had heard about the nickname he had earned from the scars on his face - Jigsaw. No one ever called him Billy. It was Mr Russo, or Jigsaw. He had any images of him wiped from as many databases as possible. Aside from an old grainy photo from his time in Afghanistan, you didn’t know what he looked like.
You were impressed by how quickly he had established himself in the city’s underground activity. Of course, that meant your workload increased, so you weren’t too impressed.
It was after yet another fruitless raid on a warehouse by the docks, when you receive the first phone call from him.
At first, you’re terrified. He’s remarkably casual as you talk - though in truth he does the majority of the talking - his voice is smooth and light and you find yourself still reeling hours later. You’re wary as you walk home that night, constantly looking over your shoulder.
In his next phone call, he assures you that he doesn’t mean you any harm. Which only proves that he was watching you the other night. You’re not sure whether you’re actually reassured by that.
The next time you’re tired and stressed when he calls, and you end up snapping at him. As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re frozen in fear. But then he laughs softly, a genuine laugh that you’ve never heard from him before.
From that point onwards, you accept that he’s too clever for you to actually catch him, and he certainly isn’t going to stop his phone calls, so you might as well enjoy the company.
Billy grows attached to you quite quickly. He ensures your safety, buying your apartment building through a few of his subsidiary companies. He keeps tabs on you, sometimes even tailing you himself just to make sure you’re safe.
Part of him wants to keep you at a distance. He doesn’t want to rely on anyone. Now that he’s finally fought his way to the top again, he can’t afford to have a weakness. Even though he won’t admit it, he’s also afraid of your rejection. Whilst you seem to be warming up to him, you haven’t seen his face. He’s convinced himself that, should you see his face, your interest in him will turn to disgust.
Whilst you’re curious about his scars, you’re far too occupied by the fact that you might be falling for this incredibly dangerous criminal. Which will put your career, and entire life in jeopardy.
A soft smile tugs at your lips as you nuzzle your face into the crook of Billy’s neck. The diamond ring on your finger twinkles in the morning light as you slide your hand over his chest. His breathing shifts slightly, and he hums happily in response to your touch. His lashes flutter open and his dark eyes land on your face.
“Good morning Mr Russo.” You coo softly. A sleepy smile spreads over his face.
“Good mornin, soon to be Mrs Russo.”
Your hand trails up his chest to ruffle through his bedhead. He wraps one of his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. His lips are soft against yours as he holds you tight. Billy slides his hands down your body, squeezing your hips as they rock against his. Your hand grasps a fistful of his hair and he moans into your kiss. He presses his hand against the small of your back, as you grind your hips down on him. His teeth tug down on your lower lip, drawing a moan from the back of your throat.
“You’re so beautiful.” He breathes out, hands sliding down to squeeze at your cheeks. You nuzzle your nose against the side of his neck and press a trail of kisses along his throat. One of his hands slips through the hair at the back of your neck, keeping your lips in place against his skin. You nip lightly at his collarbone, and he groans, grasping at your panties.
Withdrawing your hands from him, you hook your fingers under the edge of your shirt - Billy’s shirt - and tug it over your head before casting it aside. His eyes widen with awe, as he takes in the sight of you. A sight he’s more than familiar with, but he reacts the same every time. He lifts your hips up, sliding your panties down, and you do the same to him, tugging at his boxers.
“Can’t wait to call you my wife.” He rasps, his voice still thick with sleep.
His hand snakes down your body, and you rock your hips against his fingers. His finger circles your clit and you press your forehead against his shoulder as you gasp.
“You know what I’m gonna do, sweetheart?” You shake your head heavily, your hands grasping at his biceps as you grind against his fingers. His smiles at the blissful look on your face, as you melt into his touch. “Gonna make my beautiful fiancée cum all over my fingers.” You gasp again as he presses harder against your clit, increasing the pressure of his circles. “You like the sound of that baby?” You nod several times before a whine escapes your lips. He hushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The pace of his finger speeds up, as does your breathing. He watches your face as you gasp and writhe, your body pressed hard against his.
He dips his head down to brush his lips against your neck, nipping lightly at the warm skin there as he murmurs,
“Y’know you were whinin in your sleep last night, sweetheart.” Blood rushes to your face as you register his words. “Havin sweet dreams about your future husband?” Your nails bite into the skin of his biceps as you cling to him, another wave of pleasure rolling through your body.
“Billy please.” You whisper. With his free hand, he hooks a finger under your chin, guiding your eyes to meet his. He takes in every inch of your face, eyes wide in pleasure, parted lips ready to cry out his name.
“Go on sweetheart, I’ve got you.” Your head drops back down to press against his shoulder as you approach your climax. Whispered gasps of his name reach his ears and he speeds up his motions, pushing you over the edge. A broken moan spills from your lips, and Billy helps to work your body through the aftershocks. You’re panting against his skin as the cozy gaze of pleasure clouds over your mind and body.
Billy leans down to kiss you, and you meet his lips eagerly with a soft moan.
“I love you.” He whispers, and you smile widely at him.
“Love you too.” You echo softly, your left hand smoothing over his bicep, rubbing carefully at the crescent prints left by your nails. Billy shivers at your touch, your tender motions warming his heart, and the chill of your engagement ring against his flushed skin. Your hand moves up to his shoulder, squeezing lightly at the muscles there. He raises a brow at you, but you ignore it, keeping your focus on your hand as it slides over his chest. Your fingers brush delicately over his stomach, and his breathing hitches.
It’s only when your fingers curl around his cock, do your eyes finally lift up to meet his. Billy’s eyes are always dark, with hidden depths buried in them. But as you begin to move your hand, his gaze darkens even further, his pupils blown wide with pleasure.
You watch as he throws his head back against the pillows with a groan, followed by a whisper of your name. With his throat bared, you take the opportunity to trail your lips over his skin. As you suck marks into the tender skin of his throat, you alternate the speed of your thrusts, drawing loud moans from his lips as he bucks his hips into your hand.
His fingers curl around your wrist, not seeking to control your motions, just needing something to hold onto. His other hand grasps the back of your head, tightening in your hair when you speed up. His entire body shudders as you run your tongue along the column of his throat.
“Sweetheart please.” He begs, his voice breaking slightly. You shush him tenderly, pressing a kiss to his cheek before sucking lightly on his earlobe. He moans at the feeling of your hot mouth on his skin. “Please.”
You nuzzle your nose against the side of his face and he gasps as you tighten your fingers around his cock. You continue to kiss over his neck and face, stopping for a moment to murmur against his ear,
“I’ve got you honey. Let me take care of my future husband.” He swears under his breath at your words, clenching his jaw hard. You kiss along his jawline, encouraging him to relax under your touch. His breathing shifts into erratic gasps as he approaches his own climax. His hand tightens in your hair, tugging your lips to meet his. You increase the pace of your hand, swallowing each of his moans with the kiss. He squeezes the back of your neck hard and you moan alongside him. You’re both gasping, foreheads pressed together as he nears the edge. You continue to press firm kisses against his lips, until his head tips back and he spills into your hand with a cry of your name. After ensuring he feels every last second of pleasure, you withdraw your hand, leaving him with his chest still heaving as he comes down from his high.
When Billy finds the strength to lift his head up, he sees you cleaning your hand with your tongue, lapping at his release. He can see the mischief in your eyes - you know exactly what you’re doing to him. A mixture between a laugh and a groan escapes his throat, as he meets your eyes, before he flops his head back against his pillow. It’s only a brief moment before your body is sliding over his, and your lips meet in an affectionate kiss. You both smile at one another.
“I love you.” You whisper against his lips. Billy wraps his arms around you, pressing your body firmly against his.
“Love you too sweetheart.” You rest your head in the crook of his neck, tracing small patterns over his shoulder with your fingertips. He smiles down at you softly as you trace over the scars there carefully. You press a soft kiss there and Billy tightens his hold on you.
“We planning on staying here all day?” You remark lightly and Billy nods with a soft grin.
“Absolutely.” Your own smile widens as you settle down beside him with a shrug.
“Okay then.” Billy laughs softly, and leans down to press a kiss against your forehead. With a contented sigh, you rest your head against his chest, your eyes fluttering closed to enjoy this quiet moment with your fiancé.
The reinforced door slams shut behind Billy, and he feels the echo of it thrum through his entire body. He’s dressed in his long wool coat, leather gloves, and scarf tucked neatly between his lapels. Even under his layers, the chill of the empty fire station makes his shoulder ache.
The Albany Fire Station had been relocated ten years ago. The building that Billy had been left in as a baby was now run by a charity that wanted to preserve the city’s historic buildings.
Emotion wells in Billy’s throat as he looks around. He always shrugged off his past, claiming that it didn’t bother him. His mom had made a choice, and he had been forced to live with the consequences. It had made him a stronger man.
Stooooooooopppppp this is the sweetest thing ever!
I love the look you give into his past and how the firefighters all loved on him as a baby. And the BEAR. AND THE PICTURES. You’re killing me in the best way. He deserved so much better.
