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stardustmorozov · 2 years

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Drunk On Rose Water

Read here on AO3 Pairing: Cult Leader!Billy x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You are called to Billy's quarters for a reason he will not reveal to you on paper...

Warnings: (The dove is dead y'all) Smut, Dark!Billy, Scarred!Billy, Billy has a god complex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cockwarming, Heavy power imbalance, use of a blindfold, dub con/non con, the word mother is used in relation to reader, implied forced pregnancy,

Wordcount: 3271

A/N: this is based on one of this moodboard by the amazing @marvelmusing whom has seemed to have made it her mission to torment me with every chance she gets... A/N: The deity depicted here is one I came up with myself so if they have any similarities or overlap with gods that are currently worshipped, these are purely coincidental A/N: Baby's first dark fic! I cannot tell y'all how nervous I am for this one but I hope y'all like it! A/N: This took me nearly four months to write but hot damn am I glad it is done.

The camp was dark around you as branches and dead leaves broke and cracked under your shoes, the cold biting at the exposed skin of your face and neck as you made your way to the largest residence in the camp. You still didn't understand why he wanted to see you this late, the words on note you'd gotten earlier that day still no clearer to you.

You'd burned the piece of paper as soon as the message had been solidly lodged into your mind, as was custom in the community you had been part of for a little over two years now and you knew better than to question his motives, knowing that the few who had had been severely punished for it. Though no one had exactly told you how. Some had said they'd been misfigured, forced to become part of the masked guard that always surveiled the perimiter of your home. Others had said they'd been murdered, or simply cast out and forbidden to ever return.

You shuddered at the thought of ever commiting such blasphemy and with a shake of your head you tried to get rid of the repulsive thought. You had been loyal to the cause your small community fought for and your god; Denadréa whom had manifested themself in the man they called Billy Russo, who was the leader of the small settlement.

The knocking of your knuckles on the faux wooden door made your heart jump into your throat as the sound rolled over the quiet camp. Knocking another two times, you turned your back to the door, as you had been instructed to do. Behind you you could hear Billy coming to the door, his heavy footfall nearly deafining in the silence of the night and the sound of the opening lock made your stomach twist.

"Good of you to come," his voice sounded behind you as you strained not to jump at how close he was. "Close your eyes."

"Yes sir," was all you said as you followed his command. Whatever he had called you here for, you figured it was important as you could feel the soft fabric of a blindfold cover your face, the final knot ending on the bridge of your nose.

Billy didn't have to ask you to follow him as he took your hand to lead you into his space and you guessed by the sound of your feet on the floor that it was made of wood, unlike most of the residences, which had laminated or parquet floors, and led you through a few doors before he stood still.

"Do you trust our god, little dove?" As he spoke, he moved around you, closing the last door behind you.

"I do."

"Good. Because he has decided to reward you for your loyalty. For your effort and your care. And I must say, I agree with him."

You felt a spark of pride bloom in your chest as he praised you, happy that your god had noticed your efforts and appreciated them.

"Will you accept his blessing, little dove?" His words ghosted over your lips from how close he was to you and you simply nodded, but it wasn't good enough for him.

"Words, little dove, I need words. Do you accept the blessing of your god?" His voice had dropped, and you guessed that Denadréa had taken control of his body as his hands wandered over your torso as he spoke, lighting a fire into the pit of your stomach.

"Yes," you said with a deep breath, "yes I will accept his blessing."

You could feel his rough hands on your shoulders as he moved you around, pushing you back until you lost your balance, landing on a bed, feeling Billy's weight on top of you almost instantly, his erection poking into your hip and the feeling of it made you panic.

This was not what you imagined when he said that you would recieve a blessing.

He kissed you deeply, and you were helpless to do anything but kiss him back as he pinned your wrists beside your head. The panic that had risen in your mind spread quickly in the back of your mind.

Leaving your hands be, he drifted down to your chest where his deft fingers made quick work of your blouse as he opened the buttons one by one, removing it from your shoulders as his lips went from yours to your jaw, down to your neck. One of his hands was quick to palm your breast as the other made its way down to undo your pants.

You wanted to question what he was doing, what he was going to do as his hand made its way into your jeans, but you knew that if you did, you would be punished. How, you did not know, but you weren't eager to find out either, so you let him continue what he was doing as he tried to pull your pants down with little result.

"Pull your pants down for me would you, little dove?" His voice is still as low as a few moments ago as his hands and mouth continued to work your body.

Part of you didn't want to comply with his request, wanted to shove him off of you and get out of this. The other part of you still curious to find out what exactly he was playing at, so you hesitantly did as he asked.

"Nervous?" There was a teasing tone to his voice, but you couldn't find it in yourself to appreciate it as you were hyper aware of where exactly his hands were on your body. Of his weight pressing down on you, preventing you from being able to easily get away from him and of the fact that his face was barely an inch from yours as his breath fanned over your face.

"Yeah."

"Your efforts have been noticed little dove, you have nothing to be afraid of. Now let your god give you his blessing to show his appreciation," he said, the same low tone slowly clearing out the panic in your head.

And it didn't go unnoticed by him. "Does my voice calm you little dove? Stop every racing thought in that pretty head of yours?"

You didn't know if he was taunting you or simply trying to stroke his own ego as he traced your jaw with an almost loving touch. It confused you. About as much as it confused you how he thought of whatever he was doing to you as a blessing and you struggled to get any words out of your mouth. Perhaps he did indeed stop every thought in your head.

"I asked you a question little dove. Does my voice calm you?" There was a beat of silence before he placed a featherlight kiss just behind your ear, the silence feeling more like a danger to you than a comfort.

"Yes," you breathed, not quite knowing what exactly to make of the situation. Should you be doing this? Should you even want to being doing this? You didn't know as he put another kiss to your lips, one of his knees nudging your legs apart so he could nestle himself between them.

The sensation of his hands on your back as he presses you against his chest to move you higher up the bed made the heat in your cheeks rise as something burns in your stomach. You couldn't tell if it was the panic and uneasyness of the situation or if it was arousing you that he could lift you like you weighed practically nothing while you kept your hands where he put them as they slid over the cotton covers.

"There is no need to be nervous. Relax, little dove," he said as he put you back down, his hands sliding under your ass to palm them before moving on, his fingers reaching around your legs as they moved downwards to your knees, "All I want is to show you how much I appreciate what you have done for us. For me," he adds as he moves one of his hands under the band of your panties, tracing circles over your mound and pelvic bone.

Between your racing thoughts, you'd lost track of who was speaking to you. Was it Denadréa? Or Billy? You hoped it was still the first, the effect his voice had on you still overwhelming as you tried to keep your head on straight.

Thinking became harder when a jolt of pleasure suddenly coursed through your body as he swiped at you clit, your legs instinctively falling further open at the action while he kissed his way down your jaw, to your chest and abdomen until he was face to face with clothed core, his fingers lazily stimulating you until he was low enough to be able to reach you with his mouth.

The sensation of his lips on your pussy made you whine, though you tried to hide it. Muffling the sound by biting into the back of your hand as you could feel him start to work over your folds and as he progressed, you found it harder and harder to hold back the sounds that were constantly threatening to spill from your lips until he suddenly stopped, kissing the inside of your thigh before he says: "Sing for me little dove, I want to know what kinds of pretty sounds I can pull out of you while I give you your blessing."

At his words you stop biting the skin of your hand. Deep, red indents of your teeth visible from the force you used to try and keep yourself quiet as you put it back next to your head. A pleased hum left his throat, the vibration of his chest making your legs give off a funny feeling and before you knew it, he had his mouth back on you and soon enough you couldn't hold back a whimper when his tongue swept over your clit in a particularly mean angle, only for him to immediately repeat the motion, drawing an even louder whimper from you which only seemed to spur him on when he started to suck on you through your panties, while you could hear the lewd sound of your soaked folds behind the cloth, making you only wetter in the process.

Pleasure buzzed through your whole body by the time he finally pulled your panties down your legs, shoving them past your ankles along with your pants and throwing them somewhere into the room. You wanted to ask if you could touch him, feel him under the tips of your fingers as you mapped out his body, hoping to get a clearer image of him.

But you refrained, he didn't tell you that you could. This was a blessing after all and touching him might break the spell of pleasure he'd put on you. You whine when he suddenly sucked hard on your clit, making you buck your hips and you could feel him chuckle as he licked and sucked at you, making your back arch while you threw your head back into the mattress.

It is only when you moan the name of your god that he stops what he's doing. You let out a whimper of frustration at the sudden loss of stimulation that had began to build your orgasm which was now quickly fading away as your mind tried to figure out what you'd done wrong for him to stop. Even though the gentle way he caressed your abdomen told you otherwise.

"Say that again, little dove?" His voice was quiet, almost as if he was revering you while he placed a kiss where one of your legs connected to your body and like clockwork, his name fell from your lips again.

"seven hundred years on this earth and my name from your lips is the prettiest thing I've ever heard."

You smiled shyly at his praise, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth and you gave him a quiet 'thank you'. He hummed approvingly, placing a kiss on the inside of your thigh before delving back into eating you out with renewed vigor, your lost orgasm quickly building back up, moans of the name of your god falling from your lips like a prayer.

Soon enough you came undone on his tongue. Any rational thought you had until then instantly left your head as pleasure took over your body.

"Beautiful," he murmured as he slowly worked you through your orgasm, lapping up whatever you were willing to give him without overstimulating you too much before shedding his own pants and crawling back over you and you wanted to sink into the matress when your thoughts returned to you.

He'd made you come undone on his tongue and you didn't even know what he looked like. You could hear your mother berating you already as you tried to hide from the man on top of you, holding your arms over your chest and closing your legs as shame burned inside of you.

"Don't hide from me little dove. Your god wants to see you." The sound of his voice relaxed you, but it was not enough to calm you down as your thoughts started to race again.

He kissed you as he pinned one of your legs to keep them open for him, his rough hands gliding over your arms to your wrist and almost gently took a hold of your hands.

"Why don't you keep them on me, hmmm? No need to hide yourself from me." The feeling of his skin under your fingertips was electrifying, while you hesitantly moved your fingers over his chest and you were rewarded with a kiss to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he sucked a hickey into it.

You got lost in the sensation of him and you hoped you could memorise every bump and dip in his skin before this would be over. Your nails turned into his skin when he rocked his hips against yours, a whimper slipping past your lips as you felt his buldge against your pussy, stimulating your still sensitive clit.

You breathed his name in a plea for more, rocking your hips into his as your nails raked over the expanse of his chest, no doubt leaving red streaks in their wake. You were rewarded with a kiss and another roll of his hips against yours. You couldn't speak with his lips glued to yours but you made it very clear as to what you wanted as you pulled him closer to you and and bucked your hips into his. The moan caused by the new friction was swallowed by Billy as he deepend the kiss even further before pulling away.

"You want my cock, little dove?" he chuckled as his face was hardly an inch away from yours, "want your god to fill you up? Fuck you until you only know how to say my name?"

"Yes. yes Denadréa, please fuck me. Please-" you begged easily, not caring how stupid you probably looked. Blindfolded and naked in a stranger's bed, begging him to fuck you properly.

He didn't wait for you to finish your sentence as he kissed you roughly while he pulled down his pants, the tip of his cock brushing against your thigh as it came free.

The feeling of him dragging himself through your folds to make sure he was properly wet made you whine and buck your hips again, showing him how desperately you wanted him.

"Patience little dove," he purred, "I won't keep from you what you deserve."

Your mouth fell open into a silent cry as he pushed into you as you threw your head back into the mattress. The blindfold around your head making you much more aware of whatever else was happening to your body, making you acutely aware of the feeling of his hands palming your ass as he slowly pushed further into you. Tears were pricking at the corner of your eyes as he filled you up, wetting the cloth on your face as you had trouble adjusting to him with little to no preparation.

Your breaths were short as you tried to adjust to him, every inch making you feel like you're far too full and it wasn't long before the blindfold was soaked with your tears as you were writhing to make him somehow fit.

"Easy, easy," he said as his hands ran over your abdomen to your hips, keeping you from moving around. "I know it's not easy, fitting the cock of a god inside of you. But you can make it fit, can't you?"

You could feel his nose against the collumn of your neck as he spoke, ending with a kiss that dissolved into sucking a deep, red mark into your skin.

"I'll help you. Just stay still for me, hmmm?"

You nodded, trying your best to follow his orders as he pushed deeper still, but it seemed impossible with how full you were and how much more he seemed to be able to fit into to you as he kept you from moving too much while you whined and gasped at each inch.

After what seemed like ages he finally bottomed out, his ragged breath fanning over your face before kissing you roughly. Beside you you could hear things moving around in a bedside drawer before he pulled something out of it.

You didn't get to know what it was immediately as he flipped the both of you so you were now sitting on his cock, gravity pushing you even further down on him.

You did not realise you'd started to move until his hand flicked against your ass, the sting of it unable to dissolve into pleasure as he kept his hand ready to strike you again.

"I didn't tell you to move, did I?"

"Sorry... I- ah-" you gasped as you tried to keep yourself still, fighting the urge to relive the burning stretch you were feeling. "I feel... so... feel so full..."

"Not used to being filled up by a god, huh little dove? All those mortals were never able to give you what you truly need," he cooed as his hand trailed from between your breast down to your pubic bone. One of his long fingers easily finding your clit, tapping it a few times, enjoying your struggle to keep still like he asked.

"N-n-no... No they- they couldn't."

"Of course not, but that is not their fault," he spoke into your skin as he pressed a line of open mouth kisses to your collarbone. "They're just simple mortals who do not know what it takes to please you."

You couldn't find it in yourself to disagree with him, even if it was not exactly true what he said. Plenty of men had satisfied you in the past, yet none of them could reach the level of the man that was splitting you open on his cock right now and bragging about it like he'd known all along.

Beside you there was the click of a button, followed by a faint buzzing sound and for a second you wondered what exactly it was when you felt it pressed firmly against your clit. The sudden stimulation made you jolt and it was impossible to not push into the vibrator as waves of pleasure rolled through you.

"Now," Billy said darkly as you slowly grinded against the toy between your bodies, "let's give you your blessing and make you a mother."

Taglist: @becauseicantthink @ramadiiiisme @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @salfira-xd @dreamlandcreations

#cult leader!billy russo #dark!billy russo #dark!billy #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x reader #dark!billy x reader #dark!billy russo x reader #billy russo #dark!billy russo x female reader #the punisher au #the punisher #billy russo the punisher

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 5 months

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An Altar For Our Sins

Part 8 // Masterlist

Demon!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (both f and m receiving), fingering, edging, bondage, cum swallowing, heavy angst, talks of murder and (mild) decapitation, mind control, psychological torment, mentions of toxic and manipulative friendships.

Your arousal burns through him.

It’s not like your pain, it doesn’t slide like a needle between the layers of his skin, awakening discomfort that makes his heart beat in a worrisome rhythm.

Your arousal is different. New to him, and still a little unfamiliar, but he knows it when he feels it. It’s like a soft hand on his skin, the ghost of your touch trailing from his ear down his neck. It’s the sensation of your fingers drifting into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp and makes the hairs on his arms stand on end.

That’s how he knows you’re aroused, when it feels like you’re touching him all over all at once, when realistically, you’re currently just holding his hand.

He finds great appreciation for the feeling, as you tug him through the busy streets. He doesn’t know what you’re looking for, too caught up in your emotions to focus on the destination.

It’s odd, he’s never felt someone else like this before, never given anyone the opportunity to.

A strange pleasure courses through him, that he’s the one responsible for your arousal, that his earlier actions have made you excited, and desperate for him.

His mistress wants him.

He’d do anything to please her.

TEN MINUTES AGO.

Billy has seen his fair share of assholes to know when he’s looking at one.

He’d almost wiped the six-foot tall man clean off the face of the earth for trying to hug you, before absently remembering he was in a public place.

If that wasn’t enough of a reason, he could see the way you were discomforted by the brunette’s appearance, the faux pleasantness of your smile, the stiffness of your shoulders. Billy was aching for blood just at the idea that you might not want to interact with this human at all.

When the man had asked about him, you’d glanced back with that same forced smile.

“Oh, this,” you'd said with barely any hesitation, “This is Billy, my boyfriend.”

The words echo in his head. He looks down at you, feeling his mind rage with the desire to take you. He’s surprised he’s still able to formulate a thought with the way he wants to drop to his knees and sink his tongue into your cunt.

He feels something expand in his chest. His mistress, claiming him in front of others so easily, so readily, made him into a beast of a man, filled with so much want for just a few moments.

The man extends his hand to Billy, and Billy at least musters the courtesy to shake his hand without shattering all the fragile bones beneath the skin, introducing himself.

“Dimitri, I’m the former best friend.”

He nods in acknowledgement, thinking that it’s a little odd to go around introducing yourself like that.

He looks at you, takes a deep breath.

“Wow, you look amazing.” Dimitri says, and Billy wants to rip his eyeballs out of his skull for even daring to look at you.

Your skin crawls at his comment. You swallow, smiling and try to accept it, wishing for this interaction to be over with.

“Thanks, Dima.” You whisper softly, using his nickname accidentally.

His smile widens.

“We should hang out sometime, catch up, you wouldn’t believe the things I have to tell you.”

You blink, wondering why he was so friendly to you, as if the last time you’d spoken had never happened.

You try not to think about it.

“That might be nice,” You say politely, “But, I’m so swamped with things I have to do, and I might be travelling soon too.”

“Really? Where do you work now?”

Fuck, how do you get out of this one?

“I’m not really working anymore, just sort of… freelance.” You hoped it was enough to deter him from asking any more questions.

Dimitri only tilts his head in confusion.

“Really? That’s a bold move. I remember how much you used to struggle with being independent back in college.”

You swallow forcefully.

“Yeah, well, not anymore.” You say softly, feeling smaller and smaller under his gaze. You take a small step back, and you feel Billy’s hand find a spot on your back to remind you that he’s here.

Dimitri looks up at Billy, and you can almost tell that something awful is about to be said.

At the same time, you notice the woman helping you from before approaches, and it somehow helps to see her coming your way.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says with an easy smile, “I just need confirmation of a contact number?”

You nod at her, knowing that Billy doesn’t have that information.

“I can help,” You offer, following when she angles her body to head back to her customer help desk.

“Bye, Dimitri.” You say quickly, hoping he takes the hint and leaves.

Dimitri doesn’t leave.

Instead, he turns to Billy.

“I don’t know how long you’ve been with her, but I have to warn you. Honestly, I wish someone had warned me before I put so much effort into getting to know her.”

Billy sucks in a deep breath, glancing at you, before looking back at the man in question.

“Warn me about what?”

“She’s got… issues, big ones, and she leads people on and then gets upset when they… respond… if you know what I mean.” Dimitri says.

Billy’s trying hard not to lose his cool.

“I thought you were just her friend.” He says easily.

“I was,” the other man states, “but she’s got some problems and I just wanted to give you a heads up, man to man.”

You’re waiting patiently for the woman to enter your number into the system when you feel uninhibited rage swell in the back of your throat.

Your mouth falls open in surprise, breath halting in your chest as raw anger claws its way into your head.

You turn your head quickly to glance at Billy, who’s got his eyes fixed on the shorter man, the look on his face is calm rage, like a snake, coiling tight before an attack.

The woman at the counter, having no idea of the rage swarming your system, smiles at you and thanks you for your time.

You can only give her a distracted nod, walking back to Billy quickly. He looks down at Dimitri, raising an eyebrow casually.

“I don’t see much of a man.” Billy says, and you blink in surprise, wondering what was said when you weren’t there.

Dimitri, not one to swallow insults easily, straightens, squares his shoulders angrily trying to make himself look bigger, more intimidating. You stand a small distance away, too stunned to interrupt the conversation fully.

“Go to hell. I was only trying to give you a heads up. She’s going to smile at you, and beg for comfort and make you think that she’s in love with you, and the minute you take her seriously, she’s going to push you away.”

You blink, looking away, a sharp spear in your chest at the reminder of the things he’d said all those years ago.

It’s the look on Billy’s face that holds you transfixed. He’s angry, his body completely still and for the first time you’re not sure about what he’s going to do next.

Shamefully, the look in his eyes goes right down to your core. This was the man that was capable of taking lives, and though you had somewhat domesticated him, this was what lay beneath the surface at every waking moment. This was the oncoming devastation, and you could feel the rage, his rage, hit a breaking point inside of you.

“Go home and cut your arm off.” Billy says, watching the man’s eyes widen in shock.

“Billy, no.” You murmur, finally finding the words to interrupt him.

He huffs, looking down at you for a second.

“One hand?” Billy offers, and receives a shake of your head.

“Two fingers?” he tries again with the same reaction.

“Fine,” Billy sighs, “One finger, but that’s as low as I’m going.”

“Billy.” You admonish.

He looks back at Dimitri angrily.

“You have no idea how amazing she is.” he says, anger rolling heavily in his words, the colour of his influence cloudy in Dimitri’s eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with her. There never was, and there never will be and you’re lucky that she’s so kind cause I’m ready to make you eat your leg off for her entertainment.” He watches Dimitri swallow.

“So go home, cut your finger off, wrap it, and go to a hospital, and you better thank whatever god there is, that she doesn’t hold grudges.”

When Dimitri is two steps away, Billy speaks again.

“Oh, and Dima?” Billy says mockingly, watching the man turn back with a terrified expression on his face.

“Let’s forget about this, yeah?”

He only nods before scurrying away.

Perhaps you should have been angry with him.

But there was something about the coolness of his anger now, the way you could almost feel the fire burning inside of him, like red hot steel being plunged into frigid water.

The way he’d acknowledged your protests, but still finding some way to punish your old friend, like a balance being struck between your disposition and his.

In truth, you knew it was a very wrong thing, but you also found yourself barely caring as you reached for his hand, and pulled him out of the store.

You try to be reasonable in your head about it, Billy could have killed him out of your sight and you would never know, so this had to be a better alternative…

…right?

Or was this just you trying to excuse your involvement in Dimitri’s punishment?

Regardless, you couldn’t feel your morality at the moment, all you could feel was the empty space inside you, begging to be filled, to be used by him.

And you needed it now.

You tug him into the first cafe you find.

With a lovely outdoor theme to the interior, earth tones and the smell of coffee in the air, you definitely make a little note in your head to come back later.

You’re not thinking too much about anything though, simply following the signs that point to the bathroom.

Billy doesn’t even question when you tug him into the ladies’ room and then into a spacious stall with a door that goes all the way down to the floor.

The stall door barely has any time to close, before you’re pressing your body against his, rising onto your toes and holding on to the back of his neck to bring his face down.

Your eyes close as your mouths mesh together. You hear a little groan slip from the back of his throat.

His hands grip your hips, and when it’s not enough, his arms encircle your waist, crushing your body to his in one swift move.

You can't help the little laugh of surprise that leaves your mouth at his display of enthusiasm, grinning against his eager mouth for a moment. He returns your amusement with a smile of his own, and a dark promise in his eyes that reminds you of who he is, and what he's capable of.

It happens like a switch flipping inside of you, in one second you’re eager to kiss him, blissful with the idea of finally getting his mouth on yours. But it’s the way his mouth feels, the way his hair catches on your fingertips and his beard scratches your cheek that turns gentle need into something indescribable.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, leaning into him, little whines slip from your mouth when you feel like he’s too far away.

Like a burning in your head that demands him, in every way possible.

As high on your toes as you can get, you wobble a little when you try to get even higher, feeling his tail reach out in response to that, wrapping around your leg in an attempt to keep you steady. You groan when his tail brushes between the apex of your thighs. Pulling back for a quick breath, you raise one leg to wrap it around his hip, his hand sliding under your rear smoothly to support you.

His mouth is hot against yours, matching your fervour, an amused chuckle against your mouth when you whine.

He moves so passionately, fingers on your chin to tilt your head up so you can feel the searing heat of his desire for you.

You finally build up the courage, gripping his jaw tightly, encouraging his mouth to open so that you can press your tongue into his mouth teasingly.

He lets out another low groan that goes right to your core, shredding at your sanity when he pulls you even closer.

"Mistress-" Billy attempts to speak, trying to inquire about doing this in a more comfortable spot, instead of the bathroom stall of the cafe you'd just tugged him into.

You're not having any of it though, hands gripping the back of his neck roughly, tongue delving into his mouth with so much wanton need that he can't think to deny you.

You can't seem to stop, or focus, your only desire is to show your appreciation, despite how empty your cunt feels.

You move from his mouth, kissing over his cheek and over to his neck, delivering open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin, hearing the heavy labour of his breath increase.

“Does that feel good?” You ask, teasing him, daring to press your teeth into the column of his neck.

His hiss delights you, hands tightening their grip on you, showing you how much he really likes what you’re doing to him.

When the edge of his shirt gets in the way, you huff angrily, tugging at it so that you can bite down on his collarbone.

"Take this off." You command , tugging at his shirt.

“Mistress,” He tries to protest again.

“Billy,” You hiss, “Now.”

His shirt disappears in a puff of purple.

You drag your short fingernails against his skin, groaning in delight at the opportunity to have him, rubbing your face into his chest, appreciating the feel of his hot skin on your cheek, touching his body the way you always dream of. When you want more balance, you drop your leg from around his hip so that you’re on your own two feet.

You reach for his belt next, tugging at the leather, before reaching a hand down to cup at his erection through his pants.

“Wait.” He sighs, and it stops all your movement. You look up at him with wide eyes.

It takes you back into your head for a moment. Were you going too far?

He’s leaned back against the door, breathing in large heaves of air.

His hands cup your face, fingers tingling against your cheek, you wait patiently for his words.

“Are you sure?” He asks, dark eyes studying you.

Oh. Oh.

“Very.” You reply, “Are you?”

He inclines his head.

“Good.” You utter, keeping your eyes on his as you drop to your knees in one swift movement.

His eyes go red.

You reach for his belt again, and this time he doesn’t stop you. You undo his button and zipper in record time and gently tug his boxers down, salivating at the first sight of his cock.

Billy groans, he senses the increase in your arousal, feels it like you’ve got your tongue dragging on his neck while you’re eye level with his cock.

His breath stutters when your mouth seals over the head of his cock.

“Mistress.” He shivers, head hitting the door as he drops his head back.

You take your time, moving slowly, remembering the way his cum makes you feel, thinking about pleasing him this way, your cunt sticky under all your clothes.

Jaw open wide to accommodate his girth, you hum, taking him down as far as comfortable, listening with delighted ears at the sounds he makes in response.

He’s perfection, you acknowledge, he’s yours.

You take your time, bobbing your head slowly to a quiet drumming inside you, keeping a steady rhythm that you hope he likes.

You raise a hand to pump the rest of him slowly, as you angle your head to slide your tongue along the underside of his cock.

A soft sound leaves his mouth, and you keep looking up at him when your tongue dips even further to touch his balls.

He looks down suddenly, hair askew with the sudden movement, eyes shining red as you sway your tongue from side to side at the base of his cock.

Billy reaches down, and grips the back of your head harshly.

“Mistress.” He utters breathlessly, bending down, he tugs a little painfully on your hair to bring your mouth to his.

Your lips against his feels so sinful, you straighten as much as you can from your position on the floor, humming, delighted that he’s interested in kissing you like this.

You keep pumping your hand on his cock, eager to keep him in that blissed out state, but you realise he might be stalling you when he refuses to release your hair.

You pull away from him, and when he tries to bring you back for a kiss by tightening his grip on the back of your head, you raise your free hand to uncurl his fingers from your hair.

“You’re distracting me.” You complain, looking between his cock and his face.

“Let me take you home. I’ll let you ride my face till you can’t breathe.”

“Later,” you hum, “I want your cum on my tongue.”

He grunts, straightening to allow you more access to his cock.

You immediately take him into your mouth, more eager than ever, need pulsing inside of you, pumping the rest of his cock that you can’t get your mouth on with your hand.

He groans, and it goes straight to that spot inside of you that aches for him.

Something shifts inside of you, and acutely, you’re aware of something else you can feel.

It glides through your body, like two fingers tracing itself over your skin, beginning at your core, it slips over your clit and upward to your ribs. You moan around his cock at the phantom sensation, pushing your head down until he’s at the back of your throat.

Up, over your breast, to your neck and over your cheek, you hum around his cock, as the touch tingles over your scalp.

You don’t know what you’re feeling, not sure what caused the sensation of this invisible touch so you pull back for a moment, looking around for his tail.

When you don’t see any presence of his tail, you look up, searching his eyes for an explanation.

“I feel… what is that?” You ask.

He tilts his head, red eyes flashing purple for a second.

You watch him swallow.

“My pleasure, mistress, you can feel it.”

Your lips part in surprise. The ghost sensation traces its way down your back.

A small smile graces your lips, before you kiss the tip of his cock.

“I like it.” you say to him, licking teasingly at the head of his cock and feeling the way the sensation travelling along your skin heightens.

You close your eyes, and hasten your rhythm, the smooth head of his cock gliding along your tongue and you think you’ve found a little bit of heaven at his feet.

“Mistress.” He groans, a little too loud for the space you’re in, and you think that might be his way of warning you that he’s on edge.

You only hum on his cock, hearing his breath stutter as you hollow your cheeks while taking him down as deep as you can.

You feel his body tense, the muscle of his thighs hardening until it’s stiff as a rock, and then his cock twitches, a small movement, before he begins to spill into your mouth.

You feel it, his orgasm, it rattles through you, makes your eyes roll back in your head at the sensation. It’s like the rush of a heated wave, originating from the deepest spot inside of you, unfurling all the way down to your fingers, and the very tips of your ears.

He moans, it’s a low, euphoric sound, that makes your body tingle from the experience of it.

You swallow his cum eagerly, milking every drop from him, making sure he’s got nothing left to give you before you release him from your mouth.

You can still feel his pleasure, the aftermath of it is just as strong as it was during, and as it settles inside of you, you can’t help the little giggle that leaves your lips.

His eyes still red, your legs wobble as you do your best to stand. He extends his hands to help you, and you grip his forearms tightly for balance.

“Did my lovely demon like that?” You ask, feeling your head begin to swim peacefully, the effects of his release beginning to affect you.

He studies you closely, hands cupping your cheeks to look into your eyes. You can only chuckle more.

Absentmindedly, you lick your lips, savouring the taste of him on your tongue, closing your eyes in bliss, swaying in his arms.

With your eyes closed, you feel him guide you into a very deep sway, and the next thing you feel is your back being pressed against cool, soft sheets.

You sigh happily, your skin sensitive, head lost in a daze.

“Mistress?” Billy whispers softly into your ear.

You smile, eyes still closed, raising a hand to cup his bearded cheek, the wiry hairs tingling along the palm of your hand.

“Yes, Billy?” You hum easily.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to lick your little cunt now.”

Your eyes peek open in confusion, feeling something smooth wind its way around your wrists, pulling slowly at your arms until they’re pinned beside your head.

“What?” you ask in surprise, not fully understanding where this is going in your semi-inebriated state.

“And I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stop until I’m satisfied.” He continues, as if you haven’t spoken.

You can’t do much in your state, relaxed as you feel him carefully tear your shirt in two, exposing your warm skin to him. He snips the straps of your bra, tugging the material down so that your nipples are exposed to the cool air.

You gasp, whining as you pull a little on your restraints, a muted fire burning inside of you from the way he treats you as if you’re his plaything.

His hands are on your pants next, and he at least takes his time to unbutton them, peeling them off your legs, before something begins winding around your ankles too.

“What're you doing to me?” You whine, body aching more and more for each touch.

You turn your head to the side, noticing that the things holding your arms in place are just soft purple ropes. You give another tug, you feel your desire increase as you become aware of your inability to move.

You pant as your legs are pulled apart, you whine pitifully as you realise how exposed, open, and vulnerable you are to him. There’s a sweetness to it, something that makes your body yearn. It’s the thought that he could do anything he wanted to you at the very moment, and you would be helpless to stop him.

Usually that would scare you, but with your demon, you trusted him, wholly, maybe more than you should have.

Finally, you look up at him. His large frame hovers over you, between your legs, looking down at you with something fierce behind his eyes.

He takes a deep breath, and a pleased smile rises to his lips.

“Poor mistress,” Billy hums, raising a hand to flick gently at your nipple, making you gasp in response, “All wet and helpless and at my mercy. Do you want me to stop?”

Your head shouts the answer, but your mouth can only whisper.

“N-no.” You reply.

His other hand raises to touch your next breast, both hands toying with your nipples easily. You hiss, dropping your head back in bliss.

“No?” He mocks, “You want me to keep going?”

“Yes, please.” You breathe.

His grin deepens.

“You really trust a demon like me that much? Do you have any idea how badly I want to ruin you?”

“I want you.” You whine, closing your eyes eagerly when he brings his face in close, hoping that he’s going to kiss you.

“I’d let you ruin me.” You continue, hearing a little grunt leave his throat in response.

“Open your mouth, mistress.” He says darkly, and you obey, parting your lips for him.

He hums, before sealing his mouth over yours, his tongue immediately meeting your own.

You moan, flicking your tongue upwards, delightfully rubbing your tongue eagerly on his, unable to move in any way.

Your head fills with the worst ideas, that if he wanted, he could keep you here, bound, and still somehow you find that appealing.

There’s a drumming in your head, a heat on your skin, the taunting ghost of a phantom touch as his pleasure swells within you.

He begins kissing you softly, his mouth fixed to yours as one hand flicks at your nipples, the other hand supporting his weight so that he doesn’t crush you.

He drops his hips, so that he can press his stiff erection between your thighs. You clench involuntarily, angling your hips as best as possible to feel him.

When you whine against his mouth, raising your head to increase the pressure of his lips on yours, he stops touching your breast to grip your jaw harshly. He squeezes, keeping your head still as he kisses you hard, his rough tongue delving into your mouth easily.

He pulls back with a grin, looking at you with red eyes as you pant.

“Are you still cum drunk, mistress?” He asks.

You swallow, nodding your head.

“Good.”

Without any further words, he kisses your neck.

You hum, tilting your head to the side in a silent plea for him to keep going, a sharp gasp when his teeth drag along your sensitive skin.

You wriggle, but you’re unable to move, your bra is uncomfortable on your skin, and you hope he tugs the material off of your body soon.

His tongue is wicked, sliding over each collarbone, before they connect with the stiff peak of your nipple.

Billy moans, the flat of his tongue gliding over the underside of your nipple, before being flicked meaningfully by the tip of his tongue.

He repeats the motion several times, before tearing the ruined fabric of your bra off your skin, and circling his tongue around your other nipple.

You cry out, blubbering, his arms sliding under you to encourage your back to arch, making it that much harder to move as he circles his tongue around each nipple.

“Mine.” Billy growls, and you feel your eyes almost roll back in your head at the way you feel- debauched and desperate, for him and all the wicked things he does.

He’s not very nice, his tail sliding around your thigh and pressing gently against your panties, rolling in gentle waves over your core, tormenting you, making sure you feel each caress.

You feel his pleasure increase, like a breath over your skin, telling you that he enjoys this, having you helpless at his mercy below him and you crave the feeling of that like never before.

You know from past experience that if he wanted to ease your ache, he could easily increase his pressure to help alleviate your need, instead he only makes it worse.

After a moment, you gasp in surprise as you feel his tail work its way under the fabric covering your cunt.

You whimper, tossing your head from side to side, trying to find a way to get him to touch you where you need it most, but being unable to do much with the way you’re bound.

When you try to close your legs, you feel his ropes snake higher up your ankles, and loop over your calves, stopping right above your knees.

“Billy.” You beg, “Please, I need you.”

“Shhh, mistress,” He soothes, “This is what you get for riling me up so badly.”

“I didn’t-” You try to argue.

“No?” he asks, his tail skirting your slit, offering only a small amount of friction, “Getting down on your knees, licking my cock like that, swallowing every drop of my cum- that wasn’t supposed to make me feverish with desire for you?”

“I only wanted to thank you for sticking up for me.” You whine, trying to argue as he presses his face to the plush underside of your breast, beard scratching deliciously over your soft skin.

“Thank me? Do you have any idea what seeing you like that does to me?” His hands cup your face, and you part your lips as he kisses you softly, “On your knees, looking up, that sweet mouth sucking on my cock like you need me?”

When you don’t answer him, he hums, biting softly on your bottom lip.

You groan, struggling against his bindings for show, knowing that you’re not getting free unless he wills it.

“I’ll show you what it does to me.” He says softly, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

You feel his tail drag upwards under your panties, hovering over your clit, and you sob desperately, yearning for him to touch you where it hurts.

Your thigh twitches involuntarily, body shuddering at how close he is.

“Please.” You gasp, tilting your hips up, sobbing as he moves his tail back too.

“Aw mistress, am I being mean?” He teases rhetorically.

You open your eyes, looking at him, his eyes have remained red the entire time. You think about what you could possibly say to get any semblance of relief.

“I loved sucking your cock, Billy,” You mumble, watching the red in his eyes darken, “I’d do it every day if you let me.”

His mouth parts, and you note the sharpening of his teeth for a brief moment.

Before you can even focus on any one thing in particular, his tail begins to slide easily between your thighs.

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling the appendage slide up and down, catching on your clothed clit, using the slickness of your arousal to move. You clench around nothing, gasping, aching for more, aching for it faster, and getting nothing but his slow, steady pace in return.

Suddenly his tail pauses, and you almost want to cry, only having a moment to open your mouth to beg when you feel his tail wrap around the waistline of your underwear, and pull it harshly till it rips.

“That’s better.” He murmurs, ridding you of the flimsy material, keeping his eyes locked to yours as his tail goes right back between your legs, grinding more purposefully on your cunt.

You drop your head back temporarily in defeat, arms and legs bound, unable to do much moving, all you can do is try your best not to squirm while his tail makes a mess of you.

You’re forced into looking at his gorgeous visage, his arms braced on either side of your head, he looks at all the expressions on your face as you struggle against his bindings, failing miserably at your attempt to stay still.

He speeds up, and your mouth falls open at the delicious feeling, the steady touch on your swollen clit.

Your pleasure swims in his head, drunk on the power he has over you, enjoying every moment of watching you. There is nowhere he'd rather be right now than right here, not even the promise of Heaven could tear him from you.

He slows his tail not long after, watching the torment cross your face, feeling delighted that he can do this to you, that he can make you want like this.

“I should’ve left you hard,” You grit out angrily, groaning inwardly when his only answer is an amused chuckle.

“You talk too much, mistress,” He taunts, before taking his tail away from your dripping core to press it against your lips.

You only hesitate for a moment, opening your mouth easily, and letting his tail, wet with your own arousal into your mouth.

The taste of you is tart on his tail, and you wrap your lips around the leathery appendage, giving it the same treatment that you gave his cock not too long ago.

“You look beautiful like this,” He breathes, red eyes memorising you, “Mouth full like a good mistress.”

Your chest flutters, but you can’t say or do anything except continue sucking on the tip of his tail. It helps distract you from the raging firestorm of desire inside of you.

He drops his head once more, and you gasp around your mouthful of tail as his rough tongue ambles over your sensitive nipples.

You feel the vibration of his groan against your breast, and suddenly you let out a sound of surprise when the rope wrapped around your legs begin to pull them up and further apart.

He raises up, pulling away, his tail leaving your mouth empty as he leans back to look at you. The remnants of his saliva cooling on your breast, the lips of your cunt spread with the further parting of your legs.

Vaguely, you’re aware that he can see every intimate inch of you, and you think you love that. You keep your eyes on his face, making sure he’s looking at your centre when you clench your inner walls.

He looks up at you, his gaze is full of something familiar, something you’re acquainted with intimately at the back of your head, where all your sacred thoughts lie. It’s a look that promises pleasure, above all else.

He leans in slowly, and you watch carefully as the six-foot tall demon bound to you for eternity, dips his head to place a gentle kiss between your breasts.

Your mouth parts in surprise.

He kisses over your stomach, over your belly button, scratching his beard along your skin, teasing you with the sharpness of his teeth.

It feels like nothing before, the careful attention he pays to each inch of your skin, feels like nothing short of worship to you.

You shake, gasping, desperate, tears pooling in your eyes on the brink of crying.

He trails a line of kisses between your hip bones, your body screaming with need and your inability to touch him. When he's not satisfied, his rough tongue retraces the path, your stomach tightening as he leaves pleasure in his wake.

How was he doing this so easily? Playing with you? Toying with your body as if he'd been doing it for all his life?

You make a little sound when he kisses the inside of your thighs.

He hums, drawing away from your thigh to press his lips to the seam of your cunt, staying like that for long, torturous moments.

“Billy please.” You beg on a meaningful breath, desperate for him to do something after he continues to place soft kisses on your pussy for longer than you like.

“I love hearing you beg.” He hums, kissing over your mound gently, slowly, as if there is no rush. You can feel the truth of his statement through your connection, feel the way his pleasure heightens when you make any kind of sound.

Your breath catches in your throat, unable to form a coherent thought in your head that would be enough to push him into pleasuring you the way you’re desperate for. All you can do is lie here, with your arms and legs bound while he places delicate kisses onto your wet pussy.

Your body burns with desire, something dangerously hot, that can only be soothed by his touch. You can feel yourself clench, feel the breath of his laughter on your skin, the way your demon loves tormenting you.

You close your eyes, and you focus on him, you think about all the things you want him to do, all the ways you need him, you hope that the bond between you will help persuade him to have mercy on you.

You imagine him over you, cock pumping between your thick thighs while his tail fills you up. You think about the way you’d kiss his beautiful form. You think about exploring his broad chest with your mouth, tracing the veins on his hands, the way his cock feels, heavy and unapologetic on your tongue.

Between your legs, he lets out a low groan. His skin is hot with your desire, he feels it, the way you need him, the way you ache for him, and he can’t get enough of it.

He’s never felt anything like it, in his centuries of existing, he’s never felt someone as much as he feels you. He knows that he never wants to feel anyone else like this, like he can’t tell where the essence of your soul ends and his begins, or maybe there’s an overlap, a blending of the two of you.

He darts his tongue out, sinks it into your cunt, trails upwards until he meets your clit, savouring the way you taste, your arousal on his tongue, all for him.

You gasp, tugging on your restraints, fighting his hold, and wanting to fight the featherlight touch of his tongue as well. Delight explodes behind your eyes, but it’s not yours you realise, it’s his. He gets enjoyment from tasting you. It makes you whimper, makes you need.

He torments you with his coarse tongue, like the demon you know him to be, gently moving across your clit, exciting your senses, winding you up like an object for his play.

You whine at the very idea of it, being used like this, giving yourself into the reality that he’s in total control of you, that it doesn’t matter what you want, your only purpose is to please him, to let him lick your cunt for however long, however roughly he wants.

It makes you that much wetter.

He takes his time, tongue slowly increasing its speed, moving in every angle over your clit, his careful precision to working you up, ensuring that your body feels good but not too good, a desperation being seared into your bones, or maybe even deeper, a place inside of you that belongs to only him.

His hands trail up from gripping your hips to explore the space beneath your breasts.

You gasp, feeling the tips of his long fingers tease the underside of your breasts, roaming even higher till he can roll your nipples between his fingers.

You say his name, pulling half-heartedly at your restraints, skin searing with open desire, gasping at the way he trails his hands lower once more, his fingertips ghosting over your skin, savouring the way you feel.

The phantom touch of his pleasure is all around you, trailing over your bound hands, up to your shoulders and neck, lingering on your lips.

You gasp, eyes rolled back in your head, lost in the feeling of his tongue when you realise you’re experiencing a clarity that you weren’t before.

You groan sadly, registering that while you’ve been captured in endless bliss, the effects of his cum had worn off.

You try to think about what it means, and what you want Billy to do about it, but it’s hard to focus when his tongue licks over your clit so often. It’s like he’s found the spot on your body that scrambles your thoughts and he’s been abusing that knowledge.

“Billy.” You sigh, calling for your demon, in hopes that he can pull himself from your dripping cunt for long enough to allow you any semblance of thought.

He only moans, rough tongue continuing its constant pace.

You shiver, raising your head, trying to get his attention away from your centre. You watch his head move down, the flat of his tongue connecting with your entrance before his head glides upward, pulling his tongue to meet your clit. He glances up at you with half-lidded red eyes, and as you look down at him between your thighs, he pauses, sliding his tongue slowly from side to side over your clit.

He looks lost in you, nothing registering behind his eyes except the taste of your cunt. You bite down on your lips at the sight of him like that.

You forget what you were thinking about, pulling your restraints taut in desperation, keeping you eyes locked on his as he continues to work his tongue sideways over your clit. A tilt of his head, and you watch his eyes close momentarily as he focuses solely on your clit, giving it soft attention, the perfect combination of right there and not enough.

You make a sharp cry of desperation, and he still doesn’t stop, his tongue speeding up, your toes curling as you begin to feel the burn of a slow oncoming orgasm.

He feels it, because he can feel everything you do, feels how badly you want him and he’s incapable of denying you anymore. He’s eager to taste your orgasm, feel you shiver on his tongue, he can’t stop thinking about it now, but he knows he has a point to make and he’s not stopping until you understand.

His pace doesn’t slow, licking you effortlessly, plump lips pressed together to trap your clit between them, using not just his tongue, but his lips as well to heighten your pleasure.

You shudder out a gasp, and then a little sob, dropping your head back, unable to think anymore. You take what he gives happily, because you have no choice in the matter, you’re at his mercy, despite how badly you yearn for release.

He hums, lips pressed to your clit, your body pulls tight in warning, mouth dropping open.

You only feel a puff of air on your mound, as if he just let out a little breath of amusement, at the way your body begs for him.

He flattens his tongue harshly to your clit, rolls his tongue quickly from side to side, listening to the sound of your whimpers increase.

You want to tell him how close you are, how desperate you are to come all over his tongue, almost ready to cry if he stops. The only thing that leaves your mouth is unintelligible sounds of insanity.

He knows though, he wants it too. To please you, to be owned by you.

Your toes curl, back bowing off the bed, everything held taught by the whims of your demon’s tongue.

And then he stops, detaches his mouth from your dripping heat and listens to you cry out in denial.

You open your mouth to beg him, but he’s already hovering above you, blunt fingers pressed into your jaw to turn your head to the side so he can whisper in your ear.

“Do you feel that?” He hisses, his lips right against the shell of your ear, “Do you feel how desperate you are? How bad it burns in your chest? That’s how I feel every second I’m not touching you, mistress.”

You gasp, trying to wrap your head around his words.

“That’s how I feel when you look at me, that’s how I feel when you kneel for me.”

He leans in even closer, till his nose is pressed to your temple, his lips right in your ear, his voice is a low grovel that thrums against your skin.

“Every time you wrap those perfect lips around my cock, you make me burn.”

“I’m sorry.” You finally say.

He raises his head, turning your face back to his.

“You are?” He asks.

You nod, trembling.

“I d-don’t mean to torment you.” You whisper.

The corner of his mouth lifts, you can see some semblance of sanity reappear.

“You don’t.” he states, as if this is news to him.

“I don’t.” You confirm, “I just want to make you happy.”

He grips your jaw tighter, leaning in.

“Why?”

Was that what this was? Insecurity?

“You do so much for me, Billy, and I like doing things for you too.”

“And if I couldn’t give you anything. Would you still…” His voice trails off, looking away.

“Yes.” You say swiftly, confidently, not letting the fear inside of him take root. “I’d want you even if you had nothing to give.”

Obsidian- the colour his eyes go next. You swallow, a tightness in your throat at the way he looks.

He looks back at you, eyes fixed on yours, dark veins spreading out from around his eyes as he tilts his head slowly.

He looks a little scary, the darkness of his eyes spreading out over his face, but like before, your body holds no real fear of him.

You don’t get a chance to say anything, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you hard.

You tilt your chin up, returning his fervour with need of your own, desperate to show him that you were his, just as much as he was yours. When you can see his face again, the black veins framing his eyes have receded, leaving just his dark eyes.

You wanted to touch him, you pull at the ropes with all your strength.

You don’t get a chance, he moves down your body once more, his head buried between your thighs in seconds.

You gasp when you feel his tongue again, you want to cry with relief.

“Oh god, Billy yes.” You moan mindlessly, tossing your head from side to side.

You tremble, hot tears spilling from the corners of your eyes, every nerve in your body on overdrive, trying to process how one person's mouth could have so much of an effect. He licks over you slowly, kissing your clit, wet sounds of his dextrous tongue filling the room.

What’s worse is the physical need for him, to touch every inch of his skin, to feel him, really feel him, and try to wrap your head around having a person to call your own.

He grips your thighs, squeezes your hips, makes you look up at the ceiling and feel the thoughts drain from your head like it’s a real, physical sensation.

He delves lower, tongue against your entrance a low groan from him as you endure the slow glide of his wet tongue against your walls, shallow, and yet desperate to get as deep into you as possible.

Your hands curl into fists, your eyes screwed shut as your shallow breaths grow loud in your ears.

You say his name but you don’t think he’s capable of hearing you, of pausing the motions of his tongue on your wet cunt.

He holds your pleasure hostage, and once more you feel the fight build inside of you.

You pull at your restraints, crying out when his tongue punishes your sensitive clit with a harsh lick, followed by tender kisses, right on your aching bud.

“I’m sorry.” You gasp, wriggling on the bed, “I’ve learnt my lesson I swear.” You say, trying to bargain with him.

He doesn’t answer, he just keeps going, hot tongue swiping over your clit, again and again, plump lips both a blessing and a curse.

He licks you for long minutes, until you lose control of your limbs, until they ache from being still, until you tremble, desperate to come.

“Pl-ease.” You draw out, voice shaking, your body begging, a roaring in your head that aches so badly you could almost cry.

Your mouth drops open when you feel two of his thick fingers press against your entrance. It hits you like lightning, and all of a sudden, you’re no longer in burning desire, but in a hazy rapture.

“Billy.” You cry, as he takes his time, working his fingers into you. You can hear and feel how wet you are, your head filling with absolute bliss, washing away any semblance of need you once had, any frustration that was being nurtured inside of you.

He keeps his strokes short, drawing out the pleasure you feel each time the thickest part of his fingers threaten to stretch the rim of your cunt, moving so rhythmically, lulling your body into a placid state. He gives you exactly what you need, filling you, licking you, delivering absolution from your burning.

You can’t feel anything except this pleasure, and a connection somewhere deep inside of you, that pulls you to him, draws you near, begs to be each beat of his heart, yearns to be each breath he takes, all paired with the feeling of his tongue lapping softly at your aching clit.

There’s a stuttering in your chest, one that you can feel pulsing in your nether regions as his pace increases. Your body gives no resistance to him, accepting him greedily, wanting more and more and more.

He’s there, giving it all to you, licking you to his heart’s content, pressing his fingers ever deeper, curling them a little, massaging the deepest parts of you, making sure you know that no one will ever make you feel like this.

You gasp in a big breath of air, pulling on the ropes still holding you firm, he lets out a low groan below you and you raise your head to look down at him.

His eyes are still wholly black, a void that pulls you in, the longer he holds eye contact with you.

Billy’s fingers hasten, and all of a sudden you’re right there, on edge again, losing any approximation of time, little whimpers leaving your mouth as you lose all semblance of sanity.

“I- I’m-” You whimper, trying to warn him that it’s all too much, that his touch is unravelling you in the best way possible.

Eyes rolling back into your head, unable to think or breathe for a few seconds, locked in a sharp stasis, balancing right on the brink of euphoria.

And then on your next breath, a release like no other. You hadn’t even realised how tightly you were wound until your orgasm washes over you. You can’t stop the sounds that leave your lips, or the very first squeeze of your cunt around his thick fingers.

One wave of bliss triggers another, and another, until you fall apart completely against his perfect, rough tongue, no hope of keeping your sanity amidst the oncoming flood of pleasure.

It takes you a moment of floating, before you can come back into your body again, only to realise that he hasn’t stopped licking you. You’re almost obsessed with the sensation of his touch, the deep press of his fingers inside of you, soft and languid, bringing you down almost as slowly as he’d lifted you up.

And then there’s the feeling in your head, pleasure swimming through your brain, tingling deep in your bloodstream, wave after wave of mindless, hazy bliss.

The ropes from around your arms and legs loosen, withdrawing, giving back the autonomy it had taken. You sigh with ease, squeezing your hands into fists, to remember how to move once more.

You can’t do much more than little flexes of your muscle, your body is too relaxed, unwilling to move.

He licks you one last time, before you feel his fingers withdraw, his mouth departing from the apex of your thighs.

His eyes are back to their regular red, and you sigh happily as he moves his way up your body.

“How was that, mistress?” Billy asks softly, his body over yours, his fingers sinking into your hair.

“Amazing, Billy, thank you.” You respond in a soft whisper.

He smiles, brings his head down to meet your lips with his.

You get a taste of yourself on his lips, and you make a sound of discomfort when his wet chin touches yours.

You press against his shoulder, breaking the kiss.

“Gosh Billy, your chin is so wet,” You complain, wiping what you assume is a mixture of your arousal and his saliva off your own chin, “We could really use a bath.”

He gives you a slow smile, a potent delight in his eyes that makes you so happy in return.

“Yes, mistress,” He agrees, sliding his other hand below your body, beginning to apply a little force to pull you up toward him.

“One bath coming right up.” Is the last thing he says before he pulls your face up to his.

His kiss distracts you, enraptures you, you hum happily against him, eyes closed and trying to ignore his sticky chin.

He dips you again with a smile against your mouth and the next thing you know is that your bodies are submerged in tepid water.

You don't startle, continuing to kiss him under the water, hands raising to grip his shoulders automatically.

You gasp when he pulls you up, and right into a sitting position on his lap.

He keeps the back of your head gripped in his palm, kissing at your cheek and jaw while you turn your head to the side with a little laugh.

You blink in surprise when you notice unfamiliar surroundings. You're seated in a moderately sized pool, right beside a beautiful open concept house. You turn your head the other way, feeling Billy's lips adapt to kiss your other cheek, noticing that the house is surrounded by thick jungle vegetation.

“Billy?” You ask, feeling his mouth kiss its way down your neck. His only acknowledgement that you've spoken is a curious hum.

“Where are we?”

“Phuket.” He says, voice muffled against your chest.

“Thailand?” You say in surprise.

His only response is another hum.

You grip his face between both your hands, tilting his head up to meet your eyes. He gives you almost the same look that he was giving you before- when he was looking up at you from between your thighs- half lidded, calm.

“Why are we here?” You inquire softly.

“Bath.” Is all he answers, leaning in to kiss your chest again.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, looking down at him, trying to figure out why there was such a spaced out feeling in the back of your head.

“Mhmm.” He replies, lips on your breast, kissing your nipple gently, “Happy.”

Happy. That’s what it was. Like a flutter in the back of your head, behind your eyes, you could tell he was drunk on his contentment.

“Why happy?” You whisper, hoping not to break into his haze.

“Happy to… provide, mistress.”

You feel a tightness in your throat, an inundation of emotion, threatening to choke you with the fierceness of it.

You tilt his head up again, looking into his glassy eyes, before kissing him with all the fire you have inside of you.

You know if you could, if you weren’t afraid of the pain of it, you would slide onto his cock right then and there.

He moans against your mouth, probably receiving some indication of where your thoughts have taken you.

Your hands smooth over his neck, down to his shoulders, fingers feeling over his collarbones.

“I’ve never swam naked before.” You say against his lips, feeling him laugh in response.

“Me neither.” He answers.

You push away from him playfully, smiling as you turn around to dip your entire body below the water, feeling the way the water moves around you. When you break the surface of the water for a breath, pushing your hair out of your face, you look back over your shoulder at him.

He’s in the same spot for just a second, before he’s in front of you, moving at speeds beyond your understanding.

You gasp in surprise, his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you against him. He lowers himself, pulling your legs around his hips, you let out a surprised gasp when his cock slots right between your thighs, tapping against your sensitive clit.

He kisses you again, mouth eager on your own, turning you and walking you to a place you can’t see, his hand gripping your damp hair, angling his head to deepen your kiss and leaving you struggling to catch up with his fervour.

He lifts you, resting your naked body on the edge of the pool, your bare ass warmed by the sun-heated wooden deck.

“Need another taste.” He says against your mouth, his tail wrapped around your thigh, gliding gently along the seam of your cunt. You gasp in amazement at his desperate display.

“What?” You ask, not understanding what he’s saying with the way you’re exposed, naked in the open air. The only thing stopping the sun from hitting you directly in the eyes is an overhead umbrella.

He pulls you forward a little, tossing your legs over each of his shoulders, muttering something that you can’t make sense of.

A quick kiss to your inner thigh and then his rough tongue sinks into the seam of your cunt once more.

His tongue moves a lot more meaningfully this time, no attempt to torment you, his only goal is tasting you.

You gasp, arms buckling from where you’re trying to hold yourself up, his tongue once more attempting to make quick work of you out in the open beside the pool.

You don’t try to stop him, or resist him, simply keeping your thighs parted so that he can have his fill of you, willing to give your demon anything he desired.

He hadn’t stopped until you were boneless, barely able to keep your head up, almost on the brink of passing out.

It had been a really long day, and at the end of it, after he’d cleaned you up and tucked you into bed beside him, he’d hand fed you fruits while you were close to sleep.

“Thank you,” You breathe, face tucked into his chest while you chew on a grape, the sweetness of it is delicious.

His tail flicks happily against your thigh, swaying while your legs are tangled in the sheets of the bed.

“You’re welcome, mistress.” He says softly, kissing the top of your head.

You sigh, closing your eyes. You want to tell him about Dimitri, but you decide that maybe tomorrow would be better. You didn’t want to interrupt the peace right now with those stories.

Sleep comes easy, when you don’t know exactly where you are, and you don’t even have to worry about it.

You're not sure what wakes you. If it's the lack of his heartbeat, or the coldness that seeps into your skin.

Maybe it's something else, a feeling, deep in your chest that something is not quite right.

You're immediately alert, blinking and looking around as if you hadn't been asleep at all.

You take a deep breath, let out a little hum, checking the time.

A little after one in the morning.

You look around for your demon, unable to find him.

You want to call out for him, but something in your head says not to do it.

He’s nearby, you can feel that too, in some kind of distress.

You look around for something to pull on, sighing when you can only get a hold of a satin robe, tugging it on quickly and also grabbing the folded blanket at the base of the bed and throwing it over you.

As expected, outside is cold, and you tug the blanket tighter to you, making sure it’s not dragging on the floor as you try to quietly look for Billy.

He’s not in the immediate vicinity, so you close your eyes, and you reach for him in your head.

Suddenly you feel a connection, like a tether in the air that guides you in his direction. You follow where it leads, taking you down a flight of wooden stairs, illuminated only by the light of the moon.

With the forest on either side of you, you try not to focus on the possibility of any critters showing up, not wanting to think about what you’d do if you saw a lizard.

Or worse yet, a snake.

You take a deep breath, squashing your fears, determined to find him.

The stairs take you down to a little beach, with soft blue lamps at the end of the stairs. It’s so dark here that the stars shine brighter than you’ve ever seen.

There’s a jetty, stretching out onto the open sea, and a small open air hut at the very end, with a roof of something you think is straw above.

You take your time, stepping onto it, appreciating how sturdy it is, watching a little crab skitter away as you approach.

You can see him now, his hunched figure seated on a wooden bench looking out at the dark sea.

He doesn’t turn his head when you approach, and you worry that you’re encroaching on his personal space.

“It’s cold out here.” You whisper, referring to the chilly ocean breeze that washes over you both, you sit beside him, raising the blanket to rest one side of it on his shoulder, hoping to warm him up.

He doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t say anything.

You want to speak, to say something to comfort him, but you're so caught up in saying the wrong thing that you say nothing at all.

Instead, you rest your head against his arm, breathing in the dark sea air with him.

The crash of waves calm you, rids you of any lingering worry and fear you once had.

You can feel his though, something whirring like a broken clock inside of his head, a fear he's too scared to talk about.

You take slow calming breaths beside him, pressing on that connection in your head, soothing over it like it's a knot in a muscle that you're trying to unravel.

“Hell,” Billy finally says with his voice shaking imperceptibly, “Is not hot.”

You smile thinking that this was an odd way to begin a story.

But you don't speak, you don't want to distract him, or break the cadence of his thinking or his words.

“From the second I died, I woke up in the same spot Frank had killed me in, except I wasn't really there.”

He takes a shaky breath.

“I went straight to Hell, and I stayed there for a long time.”

You raise your head to look at him, to watch him as he stares out at the dark ocean.

“My punishment was, understanding exactly what I had done, from every point of view that I had wronged. I lived through all of their lives, I felt their pain, their fear- so much fear, I watched myself kill them, I felt the helplessness of each life I’d taken. Maria, Frank Jr., Lisa, and the countless other people I’d killed- I relived their deaths, over and over again until I could only see a monster where I once saw my face.”

“I guess that’s how it starts, Hell shows you who you are, and by the time the punishment comes around, you know you deserve it with every atom in your body.”

Your lower lip trembles, sad, for your demon.

“They made me relive that night so many times, I can still feel the fear in Lisa when I found her, like lightning running down my spine, freezing my limbs in place. She was just a little girl, and I took the rest of her life from her without a second thought.”

It gets hard for you to breathe at the very thought of it, your heart breaks for the people he’s hurt.

“Maria had only ever been kind to me. She’d taken me in like her own brother without a second thought, she’d given me a home, and I’d torn hers to pieces.”

You feel hot tears slip down your cheeks, unable to speak now, listening to him.

“What would you do to a person like that? A traitor, in every sense of the word. Frank was the closest thing I’d ever had to family, my brother, my best friend, he would have died for me. How would you punish me?”

You don’t want to say it, you don’t want to speak it into existence.

You stay silent.

“I’d tell you how I’d do it. I’d give that monster hope. I’d make him believe in something, believe that he could be better, that he could change. I’d show him what being wanted could feel like, and then when he was at his highest point, just as he believes that everything he’s ever wanted could be his, I’d take it all away.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, the pain of his words is almost too much to bear.

“Is that what you think I am?” You ask softly, “A lesson to be learned? Something to be taken away from you?”

“What if you are? What if I’m still in Hell?”

“Which one are you more afraid of? That you are… Or that you aren’t?”

He shudders out a breath, unable to answer.

You wipe at your tears suddenly, sitting up.

“Billy, I can promise you that I’m a real person. I’ve lived through so much pain, and heartbreak, and loss and betrayal. It haunts me all the time. I don’t know if I’m a good person, but I definitely think I’d know if I was being used to punish you.”

“This is real, those stars up there are real, that moon, the ocean, the wind, the island- all of it is real and I’m real too, so are you and I know that because when I touch you,” You move your hand, reaching for his, “When I put my hand in yours I can feel you-” You suck in a breath, your watery vision meeting his.

“-I can feel you in my head, in my chest, under my skin and I know that you’re real because I know you can feel me the same way I feel you.”

He blinks, his hand tightening its grip on yours before he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours harshly.

A cascading ripple of desire in your head, you raise your hand to cup his cheek.

“You have to remind me.” He says in between kisses, “That I’m real, and this is too.”

You smile into his mouth, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck.

“Of course, Billy. I will.”

He sighs, pulling you tight against his chest, his cheek pressed to the top of your head.

“My mistress.” He sighs.

My demon, you think.

You lie beside him, fingers tangled together while you look up at the stars.

He'd used his influence to get a cozy mattress onto the jetty, and you'd taken up a space in it easily after sitting on the wooden bench for so long.

The ocean makes its relaxing sound below you, rhythmic and soft, daring you to have any bad thoughts here.

“Will you tell me about… Dimitri?”

A sad smile pulls onto your face, you nod, knowing that at least your bad experiences will help ground him.

“We met at the start of college. He was a friend of my roommate, so he was kind of always around, and we just became good friends over time. I never really… liked him like that, but I guess he must have seen things a different way. He was really interested in the fact that I'd never had sex, and he always asked me about it… about my plans for losing my virginity. I didn't know at the time, but I guess looking back at it now, there were a lot of conversations we'd had that had made me super uncomfortable. I thought I was uncomfortable because I was inexperienced, but I think that those were uncomfortable situations to begin with.”

“What do you mean?” Billy interrupts.

“Well, he asked about porn preferences, and odd things like if I'd ever used my fingers- and we've spoken about the same things, you and I- but the context, the situations were totally different. I just wasn't interested in him like that, and he would just keep pushing me more and more each time.”

You shudder, remembering some of the ways Dimitri had made you uncomfortable.

“It wasn't… all bad, he really was a good friend at times, helping me out, being a real friend when I was sad, he even brought medicine for me once when I was too sick to move. But… one night we'd been hanging out, and he leaned over and he'd kissed me. I was so shocked, and I didn't really know if I'd wanted to do this with him or not, and it took me a little too long to figure it out. He was, on top of me, reaching for my jeans when I'd made up my mind.”

You pause, blinking, trying to stop the tightness in your throat.

“He got angry. He told me that I'd just been stringing him along this whole time and that I was a shitty person for making him try so hard to be my friend to get nothing in return.”

You take another slow breath, running your thumb over the back of Billy’s hand.

“It wasn't a scary kind of angry, he was just talking loudly. I just kept saying I was sorry, but I wasn't interested like that. Eventually he stormed off. But… in the aftermath, he'd made it seem to all our friends like I was some girl that enjoyed getting attention from boys, and enjoyed hurting them by making them invest time into getting to know me, only to reject them. Some of them didn't believe him, but the ones that did convinced the others to stay away from me and my roommate got so hostile that I ended up finding another place in the middle of the semester just to get away.”

Your stomach twists, not enjoying having to relive this.

“We'd been such good friends too. I could tell him anything at one point and he'd understand me, that just became another weapon used to alienate me.”

“I should have killed him.” Billy finally says, and when you finally meet his eyes, you see them red, angry on your behalf.

You let out an amused breath, followed by a little laugh. You lean in to press your face into his chest.

“Nah, killing him would be too easy. Having him live to see me happy would be way worse outcome for him. People with those kind of mindsets, well, they have ways of making their lives worse all on their own.”

He cups your cheek, his hands are warm, holding you so gently, tender in a way you've only ever dreamed of. He tilts your head up, so that you can look into his eyes.

“I'm sorry this happened to you.” He murmurs.

“Thank you, Billy.” You lean up to place a little kiss on his lips.

“And I'm so angry on your behalf, mistress. Believe me when I say that you're the only thing keeping him alive right now.”

You laugh, leaning in to kiss him again.

You toss an arm over his body, pulling yourself closer to him, his tail adjusts itself around your thigh as you move.

“Tell me something nice.” You murmur into his chest, breathing in his scent, wishing it would stick to your skin, “Tell me about your childhood.”

It's uncomfortably silent for a long moment, you get the feeling that maybe you've said something wrong.

“You can have something nice, or something about my childhood,” he makes an amused sound, “Not both.”

You groan, squeezing him tightly.

“That bad?”

“I'll put it like this, Hell could have punished me by making me relive my childhood and it didn't.”

“Oh.” You hum sadly, “I'm sorry.”

He sighs, reaching to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head back so that he can place a soft kiss on your lips.

“Don't be sorry. I'll tell you about it another time. But right now I have a surprise for you.”

“Yeah?” You ask, smiling as he kisses your mouth again.

“Of course. Look.” He says, angling his head in the direction of the ocean.

It's dark, and you have to squint your eyes to focus on anything. You wait for a moment, seeing absolutely nothing.

It's just the dark ocean, and the pretty stars in the sky. You feel your eyes adjust to the almost pure darkness that you were looking at, you swear you could almost see a very subtle cloud of light in the sky that you think might be the milky way.

“It's very beautiful, Billy, I love the stars.” You state, studying them as best as you could.

He chuckles beside you, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“So cute, mistress, but I meant the water.”

You blink, confused, you look down.

Suddenly, a streak of blue lights up in the ocean quickly.

What the hell was that? You think, pushing the sheets off your shoulders to stand, walking to the edge of the jetty and looking over.

Your mouth drops open.

Like the sky, the ocean is filled with twinkling light, but it's not a reflection of the stars, but the presence of something bioluminescent in the water.

“Oh my god.” You say excitedly, kneeling on the cold wood, leaning over to see as much as possible.

Any kind of disturbance in the water makes the organisms light up for a small moment. There's a ring of cerulean around the pillars of the jetty, glittering like living stars in front of your eyes.

Another streak of blue illuminates, and you gasp in surprise. You realize that they're fish, lighting up the water as they pass by.

You sit there, hypnotized by the look of the water for a long moment. Billy steps up beside you, and drops a pebble into the water, disturbing the surface so that it glows for you.

You giggle, looking up at him, extending your hands for pebbles as well so that you can toss them in.

He uses his influence to manifest a bag of pebbles that fit perfectly into the palm of your hand.

You feel like a child, transfixed with wonder as you dig into the bag for a few stones to toss into the water.

The ocean ripples with blue light whenever you drop a stone in.

The waves look alive with lustre, and you feel so small under the stars, staring out at all of it, feeling something deep in your chest that you've never ever felt before.

You finally find a way to ask a question that has been on your mind for a while.

“Matt… said that you were trying to corrupt me. Is that still true?”

“Yes.” He says with no hesitation, making something deep inside of you pulse.

“Why?” You ask softly.

“I told you before, I want to own you, the way you own me.”

You find that your arousal is more potent than your fear.

Your lips part, hesitant to ask.

“So, h-how do you intend to do that?”

You feel amusement cascade through your bond.

He leans in, his mouth pressed against the shell of your ear.

“You don’t need to worry your pretty little head, mistress. It’s all going according to plan.”

Your eyelids flutter, your core tightens with excitement.

Perhaps you should be more afraid than you actually were… but where was the fun in that?

#Demon!Billy Russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo x female reader #my writings #the punisher #billy russo smut #dark!billy russo #monster!billy russo

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dreamcatcher92 · 19 days

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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.

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo smut #the punisher #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes smut #billy russo fanfic #fanfic #smut #smut fanfiction #billy russo x female reader #dark billy russo #billy russo x reader #ben barnes x reader #benbarnesedit #fanfiction #s

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0fucsgiveon · 1 year

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𝓐 𝓣𝓸𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓞𝓯 𝓕𝓲𝓻𝓮

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎!- choking, possessive behavior, billy!russo x fem!reader, dark!Billy Russo. Knife play, daddy kink, spanking, guns and knifes, murder, drugs and alchol, (Dom sub dynamics) stalking, overstimulation, squirting, slapping, rough topics. Toxicity (let me know if i miss anything!) not proofread

18+ 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝘿𝙊𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙏

Y/n was a women of power whatever she wanted she got. She was the leader of one of the most top gangs in new york which only consists of women. Though one thing was for sure she despised men they were the annoying fly that she tried to get rid of but they kept comming. That all changed when she decided to make an alliance with the one and only Billy

You took a deep breath the smell of gun powder and smoke filled you nose. The smell was all but familiar it made your heart skip a beat and walk with more force. As you walked along many workers bowed down to you. You loved power the one thing you never had as a little girl and you couldn’t help the smirk that spread across your face. A girl with short red hair and glasses that sat on her nose perfectly, spoke as she fiddled with the pen in her suit. “Mrs, i’m sorry to bother you. But your appointment arrived early and he asked if you could hurry up”

“Ah i see” you spoke softly and looked at the girl who was shaking. “Good job, go ahead and take a break i know its a little scary, and remember he can’t and wont do anything as long as im here”

The girl smiled and nodded as she walked away and sat on a nerby couch.

You slowly walked up the stairs carefully listening to the small sounds of heavy feat walking around the room. As you reached the door you slowly opened the door and locked it behind you. Slowly turning to see a guy with rugged clothes and buzzed hair, he had cuts on his face and deep brown eyes that were trailing down your body and up to your face. You stared blankly at him for awhile than slowly sat down on a leather chair crossing your legs. He looked down at your thighs that the slant on your dress exposed to his feasting eyes . “You know were here for business and i don’t like to have my time wasted. Scar face” you spoke with venom as you stared him in the eyes. Billy’s eyebrows furrowed and he walked towards you with a low chuckle. “Listen, sweetheart I’m not here to waste my time either” he turned around and sat down spreading his legs and leaning back.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before looking back at him. “Before we get down to business i want you to know i hate men and the only reason im talking to you right now is because you have stuff i need and i have stuff you need”

“Trust me princess ive heard all about your hate towards men and how you had such a fucked up life with your poor dad-“ you threw a knife right at the wall it barley touching his face as you walked over to him placing both of your hands on the arm of his chair. “You have no right to talk about him you understand”

Billy just smirked and pulled you closer by the chin with his hand. “Don’t worry princess im not here to hurt you or talk about your shitty life” his voice was stern but spoke with a hint of calmness. That made your heart race and feel your cheek’s turn hot. You both sat there in quiet for a moment before you pulled away and sat down pouring a glass of 1980 rose wine. You looked at him intensely before taking a sip and getting back to the discussion.

The meeting was faster than you thought and billy was more agreeable and not as indecisive as people made him out be.

“See you later sweetheart” he playfully winked and walked out which caused you to roll your eye’s.

A few months went by everything was going smoothly. Billy has moved his crew in your hideout, so you seen him a lot more. You would be lying if you actually didn’t appreciate his presence. He would often talk about his past life, which you related too. But he mostly talked about his “psychologist girlfriend”. You didnt like her and practically wanted to rip her head off. Which led you to this situation right now. You forced yourself to look down at the broken window where her hopeless body laid. She tried to kill you so you fought back which led to her bleeding out on the sidewalk surrounded by random people. You felt your heart thump and blood drip down your face to your eyebrow.

You looked over to see billy with a blank expression than down at the body than back at you. You back up and ran to find your gun. Slowly you crept to the door. “WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU! AFTER ALL I DONE YOU DO THIS. YOUR FUCKING BITCH” billy kicked the door open and when he was about to turn a corner you knocked him down. “Heh, im the bitch shes the one who fucking started it! I did you a favor! She was sleeping with other guys billy!” You shouted. “Your a fucking liar” he flipped you over and onto the floor. “Hmft, i caught her in the act and was about to call you but she attacked me, his fucking clothes are over there.” He slowly let go of you to turn and look where an unfamiliar man’s clothes were.

You slowly got up and wiped your eyebrow and the two slashes on your face one on the left cheek and the other on the right corner of your forehead. Billy slowly got up and turned to face you. You stared at him for a second before he ran and put his hands around your throat enough to hurt but not to remove the air from your lungs. He looked into your eyes than at your lips. “Come on bill, are you going to kill me” you smiled before you raised a knife to his throat. “Now why would i do that sweetheart” he slowly leaned in your lips inches apart and the knife slowly creating an almost scratch mark. “Bill-“ he kissed you before you could finish and you slowly let go of the knife before wrapping your arms around his neck. His grip losened on your throat. Sirens were heard and you both stopped before you walked out with billy right on your track.

When you reached the car you started the engine and sped off. The whole ride was silent. “So your just not going to talk” his voice spoke gently. You cleared your throat “theres nothing to talk about.” You pressed the gas peddle going at 90 now. “Sweetheart, i know your lying” he glared at you.

“Look, I don’t got time for this billy” you glared at him. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Fuck if your going to act like this than stop the car.” You slammed the breaks and looked at him. “Just get the fuck out okay.” He scoffed and open the door slamming it behind him.

One thing was for sure you would never tell him was you were the girl he used to play with the girl with the shitty pedophile of a dad. You slammed you head against you seat speeding to the hideout.

It had been two weeks since the fight you guys had. You hadn’t heard or seen from him since than. You played with your knife examining it, tracing over the edges with your finger tip. Slowly you sat up placing the knife in a secret compartment. Walking out of the room your heels clicking against the wooden floor in the quiet house. Making your way to the kitchen you took out glass of red wine. You looked at the corner of your eye, he was there just staring at you blankly. In his tight black demin jeans with a tight black shirt to match. What you wouldnt do to rip it right of him and leave marks all over his body. His grunt caught your attention and your turned over to look at him than look away.

Not bothering to give him the time of day you walked right past him sitting down crossing your legs. “ah, i see your still mad at me sweetheart” his voice rang in your ears like a soft melody you haven’t listen to in awhile. Ignoring him you took a sip, finally turning to look at him he was already in front of you looking down at you. You slowly looked up. “What are you doing here this late billy. What do you want?” Your voice sounded cruel, you saw the way his jaw clench and he took a deep breath. “ i -i came to say sorry, fuck y/n im so fucking sorry ive been tryna call you but you changed your number so ive been keeping my eye on you..” his confession was quiet but it was loud an clear. Weirdly it made your heart skip a beat at his confession. Normal girls would run away gag and be scared or disgusted that they were being “stalked”. But you weren’t normal far from it. You felt your cheeks get hot and listen to billy mumble for words. “And i just want to be with you. I want to so fucking much y/n” hearing enough you pulled him by the shirt standing up and kissing his lips with so much passion and fire he almost fell over. Slowly he kissed you back moving the stool to push you into the counter.

Your hand went to the back of his neck scratching softly making him groan in response. He pulled your hair to make your mouth open so he could slide his tongue in. You could feel yourself getting wet and your belly make flips. As well as billys hard on. He could hardly take it anymore his jeans becoming to tight. At that moment his hands were touching everywhere. “Fuck i cant take it anymore i need to touch you feel you.. taste you, it’s driving me fucking insane” billy felt like a teenage boy wanting to fuck you right there. He lifted you up and put you on his shoulder dragging you to your room. You laughed at his eagerness with made him slap your ass a few times shutting you up.

He threw you on the bed and just looked at you. You looked so beautiful swollen lips and soft red marks on your neck. Your dress rolled above your plush soft thighs. “Your so fucking beautiful y/n” he rasped and kissed you softly while slowly taking off your dress. you moaned when you felt his knee between your legs grinding against it your core soaking his pants because you forgot to wear underwear.” Billy fuck i cant take it any more.. please do something please” you became a pleading mess not even remembering your self anymore while lust clouded your judgement. Billy laughed above you. Finally finished getting you all naked and bare for his eyes to see. You felt a little insecure hiding your self from his hungry eyes. He make a type of growl sound and lifted your wrists above your head. “ tsk tsk, none of that now i want to see all of this body all of it for me and its so fucking gorgeous so stop hiding it” it felt more of a command than a compliment and a whimper came out of you. “ shh Dont worry daddy will take care of you” he hummed while tying your wrist together with the rope of your dress. You would be mad that he ruined your dress but that was for later.

“Billy please just fuck me now i cant take it anymore” he grabbed your throat and bit your lip making it bleed into his mouth. You whined at the pain but it felt so good. “Thats not my name sweetheart, i only pleasure good girls and you haven’t been so good lately” he softly kisses around your nipples almost feathered like to the point you could barley feel it. He was making you angry with all his teasing and he was doing it on purpose and you knew it. “Bill- Daddy fuck i cant take i need you so fucking bad right just look how wet you made me, i cant take it anymore your the only one that can please me~” your voice was soft full of a seductive tone that made Billy’s ears pick up. “Since you asked so nicely ill give it to you, but you have to follow my rules” he whispered in your ears. You nodded eagerly agreeing to whatever he said.

He slowly kissed down to your thighs leaving bite marks sometimes along the way making you squirm. He slapped your face making you cry a little while he shook his head. You looked in his eyes catching the warning trying to stay as still as possible. He licked. Down your thighs so close to the place you needed him the most.

You where whining for him to lick there. When he finally did a low moan came from him. “So fucking sweet and all fucking mine.” He grumbled while sucking on your clit and prodding your entrance with his fingers. Moans left your lips he was skillful with his actions hitting spots your fingers couldn’t reach licking you like his life depended on it. You felt like you were in heaven. But you couldn’t keep your thighs open no matter how hard you tried. “Fuck daddy t’s too much” you kept squirming. “ mmm i know baby but you got to be still daddy can do something for you but it might hurt okay” he was asking for your consent which you gladly agreed to. He pulled a knife from a nearby desk staring up at you. “All you got to do i keep these pretty thighs open and then you wont get cut, ok princess” he whispered in your ear and nibbled slightly. You moaned in response pleasing billy. He slid down slowly and trace the knife around your nipples. The touch foreign but pleasurable, it felt like a scratch but it didn’t hurt. Slowly he dragged it down to your thighs careful to put light pressure.

When he reached you sweet spot he started his work again giving you beyond pleasure you could imagine. The knife only slightly touching you thigh. Your moans were more than audible and the room was filled with slurp noises. You trued you best to keep you thighs apart and felt your high approaching. “Daddy! Fuck imm gonn-na cum” you almost screamed. Billy moaned in response and continued. Your high washed over you but he never slowed his pace. Making you over sensitive. “Fu- stop it cant take no more” you almost cried. “Just one more baby ok, have to make sure your all prepped and wet” after what seemed like decades you came three times already sore from his torment. He threw the knife aside and came up to kiss you. Your juices still on his lips. You moaned and kissed him back. He rest his head against yours and pulled your thighs around his waist thrusting all of him into you in one push. His eyes rolled back and a low groan came out making you feel butterfly’s.

“Fuck your so tight, made just for me huh,” he slapped your cheek and harshly thrusted up into you. Making you let out a loud mewl. “All for you, fuck fell ssso good” tears were running down your cheeks. And billy started thrusting into you at a fast pace that hit your sweet spot over and over. He whispered dirty words in your ears and looked down at you. He wrapped his hand around your throat still setting a brutal pace. “Fuck look at me. Mmm want to see me little whore all for me!” He felt you clenched at those words and sped up and moved his fingers to your clit. “You like that huh? Being my little whore” he slapped you and you moaned loudly. “Mmgh yess all your daddy. Your little whore.. gonna cum!!” You started shaking feeling an unfamiliar feeling.

“Its ok cum let me feel your juices” he kissed you as you came feeling a flush if juices come out. “Fuck look at that made you squirt so fucking hot” he groaned and released inside of you. You shared a passionate kiss. Flipping you guys over now you on top. Still inside you rolled you hips against him. “Fuck you look so pretty like that baby girl” he grabbed your hims and made you move slowly. “Billy ngh, i need to tell you something.” You stared down at hime while you slowly moved up and down bitting your lips. “Ok baby tell me” he leaned up so now your guys were impossibly close while he sucked on your neck leaving marks. You moaned softly. “ im.. im the girl.. who played with you as a child..” you whispers. He immediately looked up at you staring you in the eyes as he pulled you closes thrusting up into you at such a fast pace your nipples bounced in his face. You moaned loudly as he flipped you over kissing you everywhere. Your face scrunched up in pleasure trying to form words. “Shh. I know your her, i knew for a long time but fuck been waiting for you to say it. Ima give you my kids yeah? Were gonna have a fucking happy family ok?” He moaned in your ears and you just nodded in reply.

“Gonna fill you up now okay?” He started rubbing your clit bringing you over the edge as you saw stars as you both cummed together. He stilled for a moment looking in your eyes. He looked sad and you pulled him in for a hug. “ I’ve done some bad things y/n..” he whispered.

“So have i billy, but that doesn’t matter ok?”

He hummed in response and gave you a soft kiss.

“I love you y/n… i always will” your heart skipped a beat at the confession and your cried a little. His brow scrunched up in worry. And you softly laughed.

“I love you to billy, and i always will”

You both cuddled and enjoyed each others embrace.

You felt safe a feeling that was hardly recognizable.

But one thing was for sure is that your love for each-other was a burning passion with a touch of fire.

#billy russo x female reader #billy russo fic #billy russo smut #dark smut #smut #the punisher #billy russo #ben barnes #ben barnes smut

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marvelmusing · 1 year

Text

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.

#billy russo #dark elf!billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo au #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x you #billy russo moodboard #the punisher au

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Unspoken Crimes

Masterlist

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, violence, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You finally make a splash at college, but you come to regret being noticed. (short, plus sized reader)

Characters: Frank Castle, Billy Russo

A note on reader characters:

For clarity, each reader will have a defined nickname when appearing in any installment not their own. This is Sunny. This fic also features Foxy.

Note: It took me ages to finish by I did it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Donkey love Waffles. Take care. 💖

The blaring alarm startles you awake. You peel your face off the textbook, the page sticking to your cheek for a moment before you can sit up straight. Your study session as usual turned into naptime. You rouse in confusion, as put off by the siren as the missing memory of when you dozed off.

You grip your skull as it pounds with the constant noise and you murmur at your dead laptop. You don’t think your test is going to go very well tomorrow. You stand and stretch out the kinks, the babble of voices and shuffle of footsteps sounding from outside your door.

You go to the door and open it, yawning as you keep a hand over your left ear, the whirling echo in the hall even louder than in your room. Girls wrapped in blankets stagger by sleepily, some drunkenly, eyeliner smeared and uggs clamouring beneath them. As Radeesha passes, you wave to her, trying to catch her attention.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You yell above the alarm.

She shakes her head at you and rolls her eyes. You smile and apologise under your breath. She looks tired and must be as put off by the alarm as you. You watch as the rest of your floor traipse by, some faces you don’t recognise, boyfriends, girlfriends, and other visitors.

You quickly grab your slippers from beside the door and follow the tide of students to the nearest exit. It must be the fire alarm. A drill at 2am hardly seems likely and you smell smoke. Oh shit, is it for real? Is there a fire?

As you come out into the frigid early morning air, you near Brianna, the girl who lives next door, and voice the question aloud.

“I don’t fucking know,” she grumbles as she shivers under a pink duvet, “the fuck you asking me for, loser?”

You hug yourself and back away. She’s tired. She’s always grumpy when she has to wake up early and it’s really early. You don’t feel too great yourself. You excuse her snappy retort and go to stand near the back of the crowd, clusters of students watching the approach of a wailing red fire truck.

Your teeth chatter and you regret not grabbing more than your woolly slippers. The bottoms have no traction on the icy ground and your thin PJs offer little shield against the billowing winds. You blow into your hands and rub them together as a Campus PD cruiser pulls up beside the fire truck.

The officers speak with one man in a yellow jacket before letting him follow the rest of his crew towards the building. The firefighters disappear inside to clear out the place as smoke plumes from the back of the building. Hopefully it’s nothing too serious.

“I told Carissa candles were against the rules,” a girl you don’t recognise sneers, “she never fucking listens.”

“Could be something else,” someone replies, “gas stoves aren’t exactly the safest around drunk coeds.”

“Says the drunk coed…” the reply comes dryly.

“Everyone, get back,” the officers call out, herding back the hordes with a wave of their arms, “get to the gathering point.”

The taller officer gestures past the wall of students to the bright green sign on the other side of the street. You turn as slowly the bodies begin to retreat, grumbling and griping about the campus police. You slip across the road, the cold biting through your cotton tee and stinging your skin.

“Hey,” you see Radeesha as you step up on the curb, “how’s it going?”

“What do you want?” She scowls.

“Cold out,” you chirp.

“No shit,” she scoffs and sends a look to Emma and mouths ‘what the fuck’? You look back to the building and rock in place, jeez, no one likes being woken up in the middle of the night, do they?

You drift away as you watch the building and a lick of orange gleams through one of the windows. You gasp as several others notice and let out their own surprise. Your eyes round and you worry you might not have a bed to go back to that night.

You shake as the cold crawls up your legs, your fingertips and toes numb, your skin raw and your bones aching. It’s freezing. You squat down and grab your feet, trying to warm them as you try to conserve your body heat.

The snow crunches under heavy soles and suddenly, you’re knocked over as a leg collides with your shoulder. You squeak as you catch yourself on your hands, fingers sinking into the hard snow. You peer up as a dark figure looks back. The officer’s uniform is lined with iridescent strips that glow in the night and limn his figure.

“What’re you doin’ down there?” He bends and grabs your arm, yanking you to you feet, “where’s your coat?”

“I… I forgot— I didn’t have time–”

“Little thing like you will freeze out here,” he tisks, “we’re all outta blankets…”

You look around and see other students wrapped in the crinkly silver blankets, huddled together as you’re lost in your usual floating solitary.

“It’s okay,” you chime, “I’ll be alright. I’m sure the fire’s not too bad.”

“Aren’t you a chipper little thing,” he remarks as he unzips his coat, “here.” He shrugs out of the jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, “vest makes me sweat anyway.”

“Oh, I can’t–”

“You’re gonna catch cold if you don’t,” he warns with a point in your face, “don’t worry, it’s got my name on it. I ain’t worried about losing it.”

“Uh, thanks, sir,” you sway as he pulls the coat closed around you, his warmth and scent clings to the fabric and surrounds you, “I’ll make sure I give it back.”

“Oh, I’ll come find ya if you don’t,” he warns with a smirk, “now go back with your friends. Can’t have you getting lost out here.”

He looks over at the other students and you give a nod. You sidle over towards the chattering coeds, glancing back at the officer until he finally turns away. Those around you avoid you as you stand amid the crowd, leaving you adrift in the sea of your peers.

You peek down and reach to smooth down the collar. You read the name sewn into the jacket, ‘Castle’. That’s an interesting last name. You retract your hand, pulling the coat snug around you as you’re attention is drawn back to the dorm, the orange glare no longer glowing on the top floor.

As you pass Ellie, another girl on your floor, you give a wave but she doesn't seem to notice. She leans against the boy beside her as you skirt around to the curb and stare across the street. The cold has you wide awake now, maybe you'd have time to actually study.

"Little girl," the other officer emerges in the wode umbrella of the streetlight above, "nice jacket…"

"Oh, uh," you sputter and look down.

"You know it's a serious offense to be stealing from police," he smirks, "and Castle," he flicks the letter beside the zipper, "that's my partner. We look out for each other."

"What--n-no, he let me– he lent it to me, sir, officer," you stutter and look at the name sewn into his matching coat; B. Russo, "I swear, he was just…" you look around, searching for the other man.

"I'm kidding with you, girl," he winks as you turn back to him, "he's too nice for his own good sometimes."

"Oh," you nod, "yeah, he was nice."

"Especially to girls," he adds.

"Hm, ah, well, I forgot my coat."

"Cute," he scoffs, "you like candles?"

"What?"

"Satsuma candles?"

"Um, no, they're prohibited," you frown, realising his inference. "I got one of those plug in thingies."

"Ah, yeah, you wouldn't do anything 'prohibited', would you? You seem like a good girl."

You bite the inside of your lip to keep a grimace from marring your face. He talks in riddles. You shrug.

"I try," you answer half-heartedly.

"Do you know anyone," he lifts a single gloved finger and steps closer, his thick coat rustling, "who likes candles?"

"Well, I…" you glance around as Carissa leans against another girl, barely awake on her feet, "no," you can't be that one. The snitch. You won't make any friends that way, "I don't really know… too many people."

"You don't? Don't you got friends?"

"Erm, I didn't say I didn't," you’re defensive at her accusatory tone, "but they don't live here, is all."

"Relax, I'm sure you're a popular one, mousey," he says derisively, "now you make sure to give my partner his jacket back before you go back to bed." He tucks a thumb into his pocket, "cops don't take too kindly to stealing."

"I–"

"And try not to think too much about him before you fall asleep," he winks, "he's a married man." You frown and shake your head, shocked by his very obvious suggestion. He chuckles and leans in, "but I'm not."

You look around awkwardly. This isn't happening. This doesn't happen to you. The only time a guy ever hit on you was part of a high school bet, one you couldn't win.

"Don't worry, you'll see me around," he stands and shifts his hat, "this is my patrol block. Night watch."

You take a breath and force a smile, "thanks, officer, I uh, think they're letting us back in now."

"I hear them heaters are shit. I got a bit of a magic touch myself if you ever need someone to have a look. Those old radiators just need a little…" he putts his hands out in an almost lewd gesture and gropes the air, "coaxing."

"Um, thank you, okay, sir," you murmur as you back away, "can you give this back for me?" You take the coat off and hand it over, "I got a test tomorrow."

He tilts his head and accepts the coat, but not without grazing your arm and giving a long look to your PJs.

"You're smart not to sleep naked," he snickers as he tucks the thick coat under his arm, "too bad, though."

You don't know how to reply, so you don't. He's an officer, what are you gonna say? Who are you gonna tell? Besides, you heard guys say way worse behind you in class.

"Have a good night," you eke out as you hesitantly step past him.

"You too, mousey," he clicks his tongue, "sweet dreams."

You cross the street and join the train of students lining up to be let back inside. A remnant of smoke lingers in the air and parches your throat. You glance around at the chattering and dazed faces. What a strange night.

📖

Your grandmother always told you you have bad impulse control. You can't help but agree with her as you come out of the corner shop with your haul; a bag of doritos and several fruity energy drinks. The craving drew you out of your dorm into another chilly night, but with another walk across campus ahead of you, you regret more and more the hasty decision for a late night snack.

You swing the bag as you set off, the campus shrouded as distant orbs float around the edges of buildings and between the barren trunks and branches. The green lights atop the square poles and the taller pillars that curve over the walk with lantern-style shades that cast a patchy glow across the ground. You keep your chin down as a chill rattles your bones and you crunch past a snow-dusted bench, turning off down the next path.

Distant echoes of footsteps and muffled tones that could be voices waft in the air. You can't tell as the frigid air and heaps of snow dampen all noise. Cars whish by along the roadways divided by the plots of academies and offices, an eerie feel to the mostly empty sprawl.

As you delve into the shadows of the social sciences facade, you hear the scuff of soles and the gritty crunch of pebbles and frozen snow. A figure specks in a cone of light beneath a towering pole before dissipating into the endless night. You clutch tight the plastic bag as it noisily brushes against your long coat. The stranger is gone without a look in your direction.

You hear another scrape, a soft mewl, a sniffle, and the scatter of a stick across the cold pavement. You gulp as you stop, teetering as you try to decide whether to keep going or take another route. A shaky breath makes up your mind as a whimper piques at the end.

You round the corner, one of the tall square poles at the cross point of the walkways ahead. Between you and the green light is a person. The body sits on the ground, her legs splayed and bent as she cradles her head. You don't know her. Of course you don't, it's impossible to know everyone. It's even hard to keep your professors straight.

"Uh, are you okay?" You ask gently. She flinches as she raises her chin and looks at you, her eyes hollow with shadows, "did you fall?"

She doesn't say anything, instead planting her hands as she brings her feet down flat. She tries to stand but can't seem to find the strength. You rush forward and offer your hand.

"Pretty icy out here–"

"Icy?" She snarls as she stands for a moment, only to stumble and catch herself on a bench.

"Did you slip?" You ask again and drop your hand to your side.

She shakes her head before she leans forward and grips her temples, "no."

"What happened?" You step closer.

She's quiet as he fixes her rumpled jacket and winces again. You look around, searching for any evidence of what unfolded there. She looks dazed, lost. You wonder if she hit her head.

"Nothing," she utters at last.

You narrow your eyes as you see a metal shape in the crack of the pavement and you bend to pick it up. The kind of button you find on a pair of jeans. You look at her as she wipes grains of dirt from her cheek.

"This yours?"

She shakes her head as she grips the side of the bench and huddles over her lap, "I'm fine–"

"Did someone hurt you?"

Your question hangs. Unanswered. You stare at the button and think of the shadow you saw a few minutes ago. They came from this direction.

"Someone did this–"

"No, it doesn't matter," she touches her stomach as she stands, her legs wobbling from the effort.

"Oh my god," you close your fingers around the button, "we have to tell someone."

You turn on your heel and scurry towards the bright yellow button attached to the pole, 'press for help'. You sense her behind you. She grabs onto your elbow right as you hit the button with your other hand. She spins you to face her as she grabs the front of your parka.

"Why would you do that?" She bellows over the beeping siren as the flashing green hues limn her frazzled features.

"You're hurt," you say bluntly.

"What the fuck are those donut-breathed idiots gonna do about it?" She sneers and lets you go, once more hugging her middle.

Her fly shows through her open jacket, the top split, buttonless, the denim wet and stained. She turns and hobbles away, thighs daintily kept apart as she takes stunted steps. You follow her as she turns down the next walkway, in the opposite direction of your dorm.

"Wait, I'm trying to help."

"Help? Too late for that."

"But–"

"Don't you get it? Help don't happen. What's that bullshit we gotta listen to at orientation? Be vigilant…"

You scrunch your nose as you scurry beside her. You recall that first day safety presentation. The one with all those statistics, the numbers that made you even more nervous to be away from home.

"But if you don't tell someone, nothing can be done–"

"Nothing would, you–" she stops herself and faces you as you stand at the edge of Elm Plaza, "I appreciate you trying but that's not how these things work." She exhales and shakes her head, "you'd be the only one who believes me. Or cares."

"N-no, that's not right–"

"No, it's not," she shrugs, "that's life."

You watch her as she struggles to do up her coat. You wish she would listen to you. You're just trying to help her. You wish anyone would let you try. You'd be a great friend if anyone wanted you.

"Look, you should go. I'll be fine–"

A sudden whoop deafens you and had her snapping shut her mouth. She rolls her eyes as she drops her arms rigidly. She turns on her heel to face the curb as the cruiser pulls up. Your heart flutters, they can help you!

The passenger door opens and a familiar man steps out. Tall, slender, dark hair. Officer Russo.

"Ah, good evening, ladies," he shuts the door and leans casually against the car.

The driver side opens and another figure gets out. You recognise Castle too as he rounds the hood of the car, crossing his arms as he comes to stand parallel with his partner. His lips slant slightly as your eyes meet.

"You don't happen to know anything about that alarm, do ya?" Castle asks.

"Nothing," the girl replies, "we're going home. We didn't see anything.'

"Wait," you begin and she elbows you.

"You two on the prowl again? We're not interested so run along and find someone else."

"You know, Foxy," Russo tuts as he wags his finger at her, standing at his full height, "that mouth makes me wanna do things."

"And you make me wanna hurl, fuck off, officer."

"That's no way to talk to a police man doing his duty. Serving and protecting and all that," he rebukes.

"Me and my friend are going home. That's it," she lies, "now you can take your brute and bug someone else. We didn't do anything."

"I don't know if I believe you," Russo steps onto the curb, toe to toe with the girl. Foxy, he called her.

"Hey, shug," Castle nears you, "you know anything about that alarm? You can tell me."

You look at Foxy and she takes a breath, raising a brow as she shakes her head evasively. You should tell the truth. They could find who hurt her. Then again, you heard all the same things she did. Odds are, nothing will happen. It's her choice, not yours. And that's what friends do, they support each other's decisions.

"No, we just went to the store for some snack," you lift your forgotten bag of goodies.

Russo snatches it and you gasp as the handles nearly tear. He looks inside and fishes out one of the tall cans. "This shit is bad for you," he reads the label, "you girls got an exciting night planned. Need lots of energy?"

"Oh, lots of it," Foxy's tone turns sarcastic as she sticks her tongue out but you notice how her fist balls tightly, "I told you, I got a type."

"Mm, sure do," Russo ogles you and shoves the bag against her chest, "you sure you don't want a few more guest for the party."

"Not you," she takes the bag but doesn't back down, "I'm not into weasels."

"What about your… friend?" He leers over at you.

"Billy," Castle hits his arm, "we got shit to do."

"I'm tryna get us something better to do," Russo growls.

"Ladies, have a good night," Castle tugs Russo back off the curb, "shug," he nods at you and as he dips the brim of his hat courteously, "be safe."

Foxy stands unmoving as the officers get back in the car, Russo watching her venomously as he slams his door. You sidle closer as a puff of exhaust clouds behind the cruiser. She turns to you and hands back the bag.

"Stay away from those two pigs," she says.

"Foxy? Is that your name?" You ignore her warning.

"Yeah," she stares after the car as it rolls down the road.

You give her your name as you wait for her to tear her gaze from the car. You weigh your wares, you have a few cans and got a party sized pack of chips. You could split the chocolate bar.

"Are we really friends?" You cringe at how dumb you sound.

She blinks and finally turns to you, "huh?"

"You said I was your friend."

"Well, uh, sure, I guess…" she considers you and pokes her cheek with her tongue, "yeah, we can be friends."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I can always use more," she says breezily.

"Um, did you wanna… hang out? I got snacks."

She smiles, a small curve of her lips. Her throat tightens and she nods.

"Sure, I don't feel like being alone right now. You okay coming back to my place or… you live around here?"

"That way," you point back the way you came, "but uh, my dorm mates can be a bit… rowdy."

"Mine too but so can I," she says, "let's go to mine, that's fine."

She gestures you down the street and falls into a slow gait beside you. She puts her hands into her pockets and her teeth chatter, a fog escaping her lips. You walk in silence as your soles grinds across the salted sidewalk.

"Thanks," she mutters and clears her throat, "I know you meant well and I know I can be a bitch. So thank you for… not leaving me on the ground."

You want to ask her what happened. You want to ask if she's okay. You want to know more about her. Your first friend. You want to be able to undo whatever happened to her.

"Thank you," you say as you peek over at her, "for letting me be your friend."

📖

Your friend Foxy is cool. And strong. And she has so many friends.

You sit in the corner of her bed among a spread of open notebooks and your laptop. She sits at the top as her friend, Tweed, sits cross-legged against the wall and incessantly checks her phone.

Another girl, Flora sits on the floor with Muse, a colourful girl you admire for her dreamy words. The last, Cookie, brought a container of squares for the study session, though she doesn’t have any herself. There’s an odd sort of malaise over the group, though you’re elated for the company.

“Six is a lucky number,” Muse says as she looks up for her sketchbook, her sweater stained with charcoal.

“Is it?” Flora scoffs.

“Seven is overrated.”

“Right,” Flora crooks her lips and goes back to reading a thick volume. Her phone lights up, drawing a brief peek but she ignores it. They must all be so popular. So why then are you there?

“She’s a cynic, don’t listen to her,” Muse warns, “dry like all those boring books she reads.”

“Whatever,” Flora falls back and fan flops her legs over Muse’s lap, “you make a better cushion than a radio.”

Tweed holds her phone tight in her hands, ripping your attention from the playful row. She looks startled as Foxy watches her, her lip twitching. She leans over to whisper, “tell him to fuck off. His buddy too.”

You try to act like you don’t hear but Foxy catches your eye. She doesn’t call you out, instead sitting up and swiping Tweed’s phone.

“Fucking assholes,” she snarls, “Cookie, can I have another one of those magical chocolatey things?”

“Fox,” Tweed whispers, “he’ll be mad.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” she tucks the phone under her, “you’re with us right now. He can wait to— Oh, thanks, Cookie,” she stops herself and accepts a crumbly square. You can’t help but think it has something to do with the night you met but you don’t want to pry. You’re still the new one. Disposable.

“Can I try one?” You ask, finally plucking up the courage.

“Sure,” Cookie leans over to offer the container. She’s quiet like Tweed but she smiles at Muse when she talks. Their roommates, you think Foxy said so but you were too overwhelmed to listen.

“Fuckers,” Flora grumbles as she tosses her phone away, “men. All of them.”

You round your eyes. You wouldn’t know. You must be obvious as she glances at you and huffs.

“Consider yourself lucky if you haven’t found that out yet.”

There’s a hum of commiseration but nothing much said as the girls focus on their respective books, papers, and screens. You think about Officer Russo and his dark eyes, mysterious like and animal. But the other one, Castle, he seems nice. They just have bad luck. It’s the same tedious complaints you hear on those TV shows. All men are dogs.

“Yeah, I don’t… talk to many boys. Men.” You rub your neck, “to be honest, y’all are the first people around here not to tell me to go away.”

“Well everyone else are a bunch of assholes,” Foxy snorts.

“You said it,” Flora agrees.

“I think you’re nice,” Tweed offers.

“Thanks, you too,” you smile, “all of you.”

“Buncha weirdos you mean,” Flora chuckles, “yeah, we sure are.”

📖

“You don’t have to walk me home,” you tell Foxy, “really.”

“It’s not safe alone,” she insists as she wraps a scarf around her neck, the bluster of the winter blowing through the doors as she pushes through ahead of you, “we both know that.”

“But what about you?”

“I can handle myself,” she reaches in her pocket and edges out a shape, a canister. “one spray in the face and I’ll fuck the jerk up.”

“Oh, smart.”

“You should get some too. Buncha creeps hanging around here, you know?”

“Probably,” you agree quietly.

“No one thinks it’s gonna be them until it is. I really thought I could help Tweed–” she stops herself, shaking her head, “whatever, I couldn’t even help myself.”

You swallow, silent as your footsteps echo in the grim darkness of a moonless night.

“Did you… see anyone? A doctor?”

“I got tested,” she answers, “apparently, the guy was clean enough.”

Her acknowledgement makes your stomach sink. You knew what happened but her as good as saying it makes it so much more real. You don’t know how she’s still going.

“How–”

“Don’t ask me how,” she sighs, “I don’t know. You just keep on. Think about how you would bash his head in if you could, not about what he did.”

“I’m sorry it happened to you–”

“Don’t be. I put my nose where it didn’t belong, foot in my mouth. I got a habit of that.”

Outspoken, yes. Brave, bold, blunt. Everything you’re not. The same things you love about Foxy, she seems to hate herself for.

“You can’t blame yourself.”

“I do though.”

“I…” you almost apologise again but bite your tongue.

“Look, let’s talk about something else,” she peers around, “please.”

“Yeah, of course,” you rub your cold hands together as they tingle, “I got another test tomorrow. See if I can break my record of a fifty-four.”

“Already outdoing me,” she scoffs, “it’s a fucking joke. Picking A, B, or C isn’t gonna do shit all. What kinda experience is that?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I guess you’re right. It’s stupid–”

She stops short and you nearly tip over before she puts her arm out to save you. You follow her gaze across the street. A police cruiser, two men stood before it in the glare of blue and red. She grabs your wrist and pulls you sideways off the curb.

“Come on, I know a short cut,” she says.

“Wait–”

She hushes you as she pulls you across the road, only to step back abruptly and nearly knock you over. She gasp and grunts as he put your behind her.

“Jesus Christ,” she murmurs.

“Nice to see you again,” the deep voice rumbles and a flash comes behind you, a yellow circle of light encasing you.

“Fuck off,” Foxy squeezes your arm.

“Don’t worry, I see you got a witness with you this time,” the man says as you try to look around Foxy.

“Something goin’ on?” A voice calls over as you turn to face the officers and their gleaming flashlight.

“Nothing, officers, just walking my friend home,” Foxy keeps her hand on you.

“You know, I didn’t peg you for such a good girl, Fox,” Russo says as he comes up next to Castle.

"Shut up. Would you do your job and get this guy to leave us alone?'

“Sup, Buck,” Russo ignores her as he greets the other man, “all done for the day?”

“Just about,” the stranger behind you answers, “you know how shit goes with girls. Say one thing wrong and they never let you live it down.”

“Lover’s quarrel,” Castle intones, “see a lot of those–”

“Whatever,” Foxy tugs on you but Castle catches your other arm, holding you in place.

“Not so fast, we’re still talking to you.”

“Sir,” you gulp as hesqueezes you tightly, “can you let me go?”

“Yeah, get your hands off her jackass.”

“Watch your mouth,” Russo steps up.

“You want me to shut her up,” the man, Buck or whatever, offers, “I got a trick or two for this one.”

“Oh ho, you like the fiesty ones, Barnes.”

“I got a way with ‘em.”

“What’s going on?” You tug on both your arms, “Foxy?”

“Let us go, you dummies,” she barks.

“Now, now, hold on, we can’t just let you two go off in the dark alone–”

“Oh shut up–”

“Watch your mouth!” Russo grabs Foxy by her chin and she clings to you tighter, “you’re about to find yourself in hot water.”

“Billy,” the third man says darkly, “let me take care of her… you and Frankie can have her friend.”

There’s a pause. You don’t understand it. What are they talking about?

“I just want to go home,” you whimper.

“We’ll take you home, shug, won’t we, Bill?” Castle says, “come on with us.”

“Foxy,” you squeal as he tries to pull you away from her.

“Fuck off!” She digs in her pocket and pulls out the canister, “fucking ratface–”

There’s a loud hiss and she screams as her arm is twisted around and she lets you go. You drops the mace and covers her eyes, shrieking in agony. You tug against Officer Castle as you try to latch on Foxy. The air stings in your eyes.

“Come here. baby,” The other man rips her out of your grasp, “why would you do something so stupid, huh? Let’s go wash those eyes out.”

“Get off–” She swings blindly and he pulls her off balance so she stumbles before scooping her up on his shoulder.

“Officers, if you hear any more trouble, I trust you’ll look the other way,” the man salutes as he strides away with Foxy beating on his back.

“Foxy!” You squeal and flail against the vice of Castle’s grip, “please, don’t let him take her–”

“You can’t get mixed up in these sorta things, mousey,” Russo grabs your reaching arm, “girls like her will only get you in trouble.” You’re hauled back to face them, “think she already has.”

"Please," you whine, "I didn't– she didn't do anything."

"Shug, it's alright. We're the good guys. We're not gonna hurt you," Castle coaxes, "why don't you come get warmed up in the cruiser. We'll drive ya back to your place."

"I don't want to," you gulp and hear Foxy's voice fizzle, "Foxyyyy."

"God's sake, Frank, get her in the car," Russo snarls.

"She's scared, give her a moment–"

You throw your foot out and your toe bounces off Castle's shin as you spin and Russo swears. You get two steps before you're caught by your hood and wrenched back. You thrash and squirm as you stumble back, your coat slackening as a pair of arms wrap around your middle.

"Shug, I was being nice," Castle's deep timbre gristles.

"Why are you doing this?"

"It's not that bad, sweetie," Russo says as he drags you back. You writhe, boots scraping loudly on the salty ground, "just close your eyes and breathe."

"No, no, please–"

"We're just gonna take ya home," Castle says.

"Nnnnnnooo," you try to kick him again as he grabs your legs, lifting you off the ground. You wriggle between the men and whimper, "please. Help her! Help–"

A glove covers your mouth and muffles your voice. Your eyes sting as they carry you across the road and stop beside the cruiser, struggling to open the door as you squirm in their grasp. They twist you between them and angle you around, stuffing you into the back of the car.

You cry out as you're flung roughly over the seat and the door slams behind you. You roll onto your knees and grab the handle, pulling fruitlessly as you push desperately. The officers get in the front and you throw yourself against the barrier.

"I didn't do anything–"

"You assaulted an officer," Castle growls, "my partner witnessed it himself."

"But I… didn't mean to. I'm scared–"

"Sweetie, you got nothing to be scared of yet."

Yet. Your vision goes fuzzy behind a sheen of tears.

"I'm sorry. But my friend–"

"Friend? Sluts like that don't have friends. They just do whatever gets them what they want."

"She's nice," you sniffle as you hook your fingers through the grating. You peek out the window as a streetlight reflects off the glass of the engineering building, "aren't you taking me home?"

Russo laughs and Castle elbows the barrier so you fall back with a yelp.

"Missed your chance there, shug," he sneers as his shoulders square against the seat and he looks at you in the rearview, "she's a cute one, ain't she, Bill?"

"She'll do," Russo agrees, "virgin, I'll put money on it."

Your heart stills, clenching painfully as you press yourself against the leather. They can't mean what you think. They're police. They can't do this.

"No, no, you're…"

"You're a bad girl," Russo snickers, "and it's our job to punish bad girls."

"Please," you quiver and fold your arms around yourself, "please, I… I'm not bad."

"No?" Castle says, "if you're a good girl, you'll have to prove it. Good girls listen."

Your eyes burn and spill over. You shake as you try to blot away the mess, barely able to breathe past the lump in your throat. Your heart drums loudly as your skin buzzes. This can't be real.

You remember what the girls said. They can't be right. They can't.

"Okay," you eke out, "what do I do?"

The men laugh but don't answer. The turn down the boulevard towards the gates and you slide over to the window. You peer out at the dark shapes hidden in the dreary night.

They drive and drive. You watch helpless from the cab, the inevitable, the inescapable growing closer and closer. They turn off into an empty lot, cracked tarmac framed with heaps of plowed snow, enclosed from the view of passing traffic. Your insides crawl as the engine rolls over and quiets.

"It's not too late," you croak as you hit the grate with your palms, "you can take me home. You don't have to do this–"

Russo unbuckles the seatbelt and reaches for his door, your pleas unheard. Castle catches his arm before he can get out.

"Where're you goin'?"

A scoff is the only answer he gets.

"I found her."

"So what?"

"You don't just get to call first go."

"Dibs," Russo tries to shake him off.

"Flip a coin," Castle grabs him by the collar.

"Ha," Russo leans and reaches in his jacket pocket, "that Maria is sure one lucky woman, hey? You're such a romantic, Frankie boy."

"Shut up."

Russo takes out a nickel and shows it to the other man. Frank snatches it and you collapse back against the seat. This isn't real. You pull your knees up and crawl across the leather, yanking on the handle as you hammer with your other fist.

"Call it," Castle demands.

"Tails."

He flicks the coin, the subtle metallic ting off his fingernail as it glimmers in the dark. He slaps his hand down as you drag a palm down the window. There's a low snort and a groan from the front.

"Heads," Castle proclaims, "and a whole five cents to boot."

Russo clucks and bends his arm against the door. Castle's belt recoils as he opens his side and steps out as the snow and gravel mulches under his boots. You back away and go to the other end of the seat, again pulling desperately at the plastic handle.

"You should be happy," Russo taunts as the door opens at your feet, "he's the nice one."

Large hands wrap around your ankles and pull you back. You whine and claw at the seat, fingers squeaking on the leather. Castle climbs between your legs, forcing a knee between them as his hands travel up to your thighs. You wiggle and slap behind you as you try to get him away.

“Come on, sugar, I don’t wanna hurt ya, calm down,” he grabs your shoulders and pushes your chest to the seat as he leans his weight on you. “Take a breath.”

“Please. Pl-please. Pleeaassssse,” you babble, “please, I don’t—”

“Ah, louder, baby,” Russo chimes, “god, I love it when they beg. ‘Oh, Frankie, please fuck me. I want your thick cock in my tight cunt.’”

You bat your lashes as tears stream out and you hiccup through the sobs. Your fingers curl into the seams of the seat as you’re pinned by the heavy man above you. He keeps a hand on your shoulder as his other walks down the back of your parka, pushing the bottom up slowly.

You heave and turn your face down as Russo’s shadow looms through the barrier. He’s watching, you know it. You reach up, dragging the tips of your nails down the door weakly. It’s over. You’re stuck, there’s no getting out of this. No one to save you, no one to stop them. They are the ones who are supposed to do that.

“That’s it,” Castle breathes, “just relax, sugar, just relax,” he spreads his hands over the back of your jeans, kneading you through the denim, “mmm, you like that?”

You shudder and let out a quaking sob. You clutch your hands tight and pull them down, burying your head beneath your arms. He follows the waist of your jeans around front as he leans over you, fumbling with the button as you shake in horror. He flicks it open and dips his hand down your pants, the zipper splitting as his intrusion.

He pokes his fingers along your cunt and rubs you through your cotton panties. His breath puffs beside your head, tickling your ear as hooks his arm around your neck. You swallow and suck in air, holding it in until you can’t. He continues to play with you through the fabric, the friction hot and painful.

“Sugar, it’s okay, I’ll treat ya nice,” he rasps, “remember how nice I am. Gave ya my coat.”

You choke on your terror and he hushes you. Your arms drape limps over the seat as his weight robs you of your strength. He lifts you slightly with the arm at your throat and slides his hand out of your pants. He flips you over suddenly, dropping you harshly on the seat as you shield yourself.

He pulls down the tab of your zipper, undoing your park as you lay rigid. He pushes apart the downy coat and cups your chest through your hoodie. He groans as he gropes you, bouncing your tits in your bra as the strap slips on your shoulder.

“You’re such a pretty girl,” he drawls, “so pretty.”

His hands trail down your stomach and his rough fingertips tickle above your jeans. He lifts your legs and leans them against his torso as he kneels on the seat. He yanks the denim down your ass and guides it past your thighs. You whimper and twitch as he bears your skin to the cold air drifting in around him. He tugs down your panties in quick succession, rolling them down to tangle against your jeans.

He curls his arm around your legs, holding them snug against him as he feels down his crotch. He shifts and growls as he struggles to undo his belt. The jangle of the metal and leather freezes your blood. You turn your face away and gulp as you squeeze shut your eyes.

He touches you again, rubbing your cunt gruffly. You cry out and sink your nails into the leather.

“I bet I’m right, Frank,” Russo sneers, “hey, sweetie, you ever been fucked before? I’m not gonna ask if you had a real man before cause we know the answer to that.”

“Bill,” Castle growls.

“Tell me, baby, is Frankie gonna stretch that tight hole for the first time?”

“Stop,” you croak, “stop. I can’t–”

“Dammit, Bill,” Castle shoves a finger against your entrance and you yelp.

“What? Don’t act like a saint, cause we both know you’re not. Come on, Frank, I want you to punish her. You always were good at that.”

You push your head back as Castle forces his finger into you, the thick digit burning you from the inside. He pulls in and out, in and out, until you're squirming and mewling, desperate for him to stop. He adds as second and you squeal. A third and you holler, stretched past your limit.

“Fuck, she is tight,” Castle whispers as he rocks his hand, “Bill, why don’t you have some fun with her mouth.”

“You gonna share already?” Russo hits the barrier in excitement, “hot damn, how can I turn that down?”

You flinch as the driver’s door swing open and snaps shut. The door above your head is pulled back and another set of knees settle on the seat. Frank lifts your ass off the leather as he drags his fingers out of you. He feels around and suddenly a warm, bulbous shapes is against your folds, flicking between them, from clit to entrance, and back again.

“Now, sweetie, I know how you girls think,” Russo tisks, and reaches to his belt, “so let’s keep those teeth to ourselves.”

He reveals a blank shape and a zap cracks from its metal teeth. You murmur and he chuckles as he opens his fly. You shut your eyes again but can’t block out the world closing in on you. The seat dips by your head and firm flesh touches your lips.

“Open up, sweetie,” he urges.

You seal your lips and large hand frames your chin. Castle squeezes until you gasp, “sugar, you be a good girl and listen.”

You open your mouth and it's filled at once. The prodding at the back of your throat has you arching your back and gagging. Castle retracts his hand as Russo wraps his long fingers around your neck and tilts his hips, urging deeper and deeper.

Castle continues his steady poking along your cunt, pressing to your entrance as he lets out a sandy snarl. Your walls clench as he enters you, just his tip as you fight his invasion. He presses his wide thumb to your clit and rolls it.

“Come on, sugar, get wet for me. It’ll be–” he jerks his hips, managing another inch, “easier.”

You choke as Russo shoves himself down your throat. Your hand flies up and bounces off his coat sleeve as he hovers the taser above you again and hits the button. The loud crackle startles you back to complacency.

Russo rocks slowly, fucking your mouth as he grips your neck tighter with each thrust. Castle dips into your cunt, gritting out a breath as his thumb swirls around your tender bud. He finally gets to his limit, a fullness swelling agonizingly in your pelvis. He hisses and slowly eases out to his tip.

“Come on, Frank, I’m gonna finish in her mouth by the time you get going,” Russo snickers.

“You’ll get your turn,” Castle huffs and bucks his hips. You gurgle around Russo and contort between them, “fuck, she’s worth the wait. Good thing I’ll get her nice and loose for you.”

“Mouth isn’t too bad,” Russo strokes your throat with his thumb as he feels his bulge inside, “fuck, I really had my doubts about this one but I’ll say it, I was wrong.”

“Fuck, she’s good,” Frank plays with your clit as you tremble and moan, ashamed at the brewing heat in your core, “aw, baby, don’t cry, ain’t that good? I feel ya gettin’ wet. Yeah, that’s good.”

You sniffle and gulp, Frank’s other hand delving beneath your hoodie and slipping up to your chest once more. He kneads you as he speeds up, your bones thrum and your muscles wind tight. The horror erupts and overflows as you succumb to it, senseless and battered between them.

Foxy tried to warn you. The others too. You should’ve listened.

#frank castle #dark frank castle #dark!frank castle #frank castle x reader #billy russo #dark billy russo #dark!billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #mcu #marvel #au #campus au

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billyrussohaven · 1 year

Text

Into My Web

Chapter 16

Dark!Vampire!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Cowritten with @the-cult-of-russo

Ratings: Explicit 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Although this chapter might not include it, this fic will include; Sexual situations, swearing, human slave, biting, blood, murder, obsessive thoughts, dub con, Stockholm syndrome, gaslighting.

“Can I have a drink? I feel like I’ll need a drink,” you asked Billy with a little blush. As excited as you were about the whole thing it made you a bit shy and nervous too. Billy on the other hand seemed cool as a cat.

"You can have one drink. Don't need you gettin' drunk for your first threesome. Want you to remember it," he smirked wryly. He was getting a kick out of your nerves, he couldn't lie. But he couldn't wait until you were experiencing it to see how you'd react then.

You stood up and poured yourself a tall glass of the same wine you adored so much at Frank’s and flopped back down on the couch next to him. Your glass was ridiculously full but you shrugged at his amused look.

“What? You said one drink. One drink,” you answered to his amused look and pointing to the wine glass in your hand. You didn’t want to get drunk anyway, you just needed a bit of liquid courage to untense. You took a long sip of it before opening up the conversation.

“Okay. What’s your rules? Anything I can or can’t do specifically or…” you asked trailing off, unsure how he expected you to behave or do or anything.

He wrapped an arm around you as he thought about it for a moment.

"Just be good. I want you to have fun, see what you like or don't like. Only real rule is to do what I say," he shrugged. He didn't want to impose too many rules on you, he didn't want to suck the fun out of the whole thing. As long as you obeyed him, it was good.

It sounded simple enough and you were also relieved to hear you could be curious and go with the flow.

“Bedroom or…” you asked, the thought of having her in his bed made you grip the wine glass a little tighter but you took a deep breath and kept your cool. No need to get worked up on the little details.

"Bedroom. Beds big enough and it'll be easier, more comfortable," he replied as he toyed with your hair. He had a feeling it wasn't the answer you wanted to hear, as always taking in every little change in your behaviour and body. But he knew it would be better for everyone involved. Threesomes could be tricky anyway, comfort was key. And maybe he also just enjoyed pushing your buttons. You took another long sip of your drink to hide the little annoyance on your face and you shrugged it off. It was just a bed and it wasn’t like she’d ever be around it again. You gave him a small smirk and wondered if there was anything else to talk about, you couldn’t think of anything so you shrugged slightly.

"Alright, I'll head out. Find our friend for the night," he smirked as he stood up, leaning down to place a kiss to the top of your head.

"Make sure you behave yourself. You'll be locked in but if you somehow manage to get out, you know I'll find you," he warned with a wide smile as he grabbed his leather jacket. He had a feeling you wouldn't run though. Not tonight at least knowing what was coming.

You grabbed the front of his shirt pulling him toward you before he could walk away.

“Can I have a kiss before you go?” you asked, leaning forward and biting your lower lip suggestively. You bat your eyelashes at him for added effect and untangled your hand from his shirt.

He grinned, grabbing your jaw firmly as he captured your lips in a dirty kiss. When he broke away, he smirked, placing one last kiss to your lips before he moved away.

"I'll be back soon," he said with a sly smile, moving to the front door.

The silence inside the house was deafening. You wondered how long it'd take him to go and find your partner for the night. You sipped your drink and tapped a finger on the armrest nervously.

"Fuck it," you said out loud and got up to go to his personal bar. You took a mini swing of whisky and shuddered at the burning taste. You walked to the stereo and pressed play on whatever was playing last. You needed to change your mind and untense or the evening was gonna suck. You took another sip of wine and closed your eyes. You focused on the music and moved your hips to the rhythm. You knew these songs, Billy often played them and you liked them quite a lot too. You turned the music a bit louder and danced until you heard the front door open. By then, you were in good spirits, having a good time and all the tension had left your body. You turned to the front door and gave Billy a sly smirk as you danced for him.

He tilted his head as he watched you, really not expecting to come home to this scene. His dark eyes were glued to you, soaking in the way your body moved to the music. For a moment he forgot about the girl with him until he smelt her arousal at watching you dance this way. He hadn't been gone too long but he'd been pretty picky about the girl he chose for you. She was a redhead, which honestly was for his sake more than anything, but he'd picked a girl that reminded him a lot of you. He'd compelled her to do what he told her, to let him feed from her and most importantly, to enjoy herself. He didn't need the night being ruined by her not being into it and killing your vibe. He wanted you to have a good time.

Your gaze switched to the beauty next to him and you grinned. She was perfect. Hot but not too ridiculously hot to make you feel like a lesser woman either. She had a kind and welcoming face and curves not unlike yours. She gave you a bashful smile and you reached out for them to join your little dance floor. You weren't drunk, you were just focusing on the good and fun parts of the evening, that one glass of wine did wonders on your nerves.

"Look what the cat dragged in," you said, when they were a few feet away. You reached for Billy first and welcomed him back home with a dirty kiss, moving your hips against his to the music. He groaned as he kissed you back deeply. He was enjoying seeing this carefree side of you. He could taste and smell the whiskey on you but he decided to let it go since you were nervous and it'd just kill the mood to punish you for it. You weren't the only one who wanted this threesome. Billy was thrumming with excitement for the whole thing. You took a peek around Billy's arm and saw her dance against Billy's back. You gave her a timid smile that she gave back with a wink. You kept dancing with Billy and her but all your attention was on her for now, like a cat studying her prey. She looked back at you with the same curiosity that pulled you toward each other.

"Have you done this before?" You asked her. She shook her head with a sheepish smile moving closer to you. Her answer surprised and pleased you. You wondered if Billy picked her because of that, so maybe you would feel more comfortable. You gave Billy another smirk biting your lower lip and reached to take her soft delicate hand in yours. You slid around Billy to be the one in the middle with him at your back and her in front of you. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you took every inch of her in.

Billy ran his nose along your neck, savoring how fast your pulse was going. His hands gripped at your hips as he rubbed his already hard cock against your ass, letting you take the reins. He'd take the back seat for now as you let your curiosity guide you. You moaned and pushed back against his length. You raised your hands to her chest and slid her jacket off her shoulders slowly. She was wearing a long-sleeved little black dress and the first thing you thought was if Billy would let you keep it.

"I like your dress a lot," you said, running your fingertips on the fabric plunging down in a v shape between her breasts. You trailed your fingertips over the mount of her breasts and licked your lips absentmindedly thinking how warm and soft she was. You turned your head to Billy and gave him a little smirk. You were almost shaking with anticipation and ready to move to the bedroom but he was the master here so you stayed put.

"Let's take this upstairs," he smirked, nipping at your neck before he led both you and the girl he couldn't remember the name of upstairs to the bedroom. His whole body was practically vibrating with excitement about what was to come and so far, you seemed to feel the same which only made him more excited. You were holding her hand when you all entered the bedroom. You led her closer to the bed and closed the distance between you two. You slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders and it fell in a pool at your feet. You helped her out of her dress and you ran your hands on her soft skin, taking in how gorgeous she was in her underwear like you.

Billy was leaning against the dresser as he watched you both with rapt attention. Two seemingly sweet girls enjoying each other's company. It had him rock hard and aching and he bit his lower lip, his eyes taking in the both of you now you were both nearly naked.

You turned your head to look at Billy timidly but with a smirk, feeling her lips on your cheek. You moved your head back slowly and your lips met hers. Your hands caressed the side of her face as you tentatively kissed her soft lips. You licked her lower lip and she kissed you back languidly. You moaned into the kiss and she pressed you closer to her warm body. You kissed and finished undressing each other. She pushed you back on the bed so you were sitting on the edge and she knelt in front of you. You looked up at Billy a bit unsure as she opened your legs wide open and dived right in. You moaned loudly, feeling her small tongue lapping at your clit as you brushed her soft copper hair back. You closed your eyes with your head hanging back and hummed pleasingly. You leaned back on one hand and kept the other in her hair. You opened your eyes feeling an intense jolt of pleasure and locked eyes with Billy watching you both with dark intense eyes. They had a predatory glint to them as he looked at the pair of you, desire running rampant through him. You moaned loudly and wanted to touch him badly.

"Help me undress this one?" You asked looking down at her, she grinned and you gave Billy a wicked smirk. You both stood up and ran your hands over his body pulling his shirt off and kissed his chest and back greedily with giggles. He moaned, thoroughly enjoying being the centre of attention, as always. She moved behind him and ran her hands down his torso to his jeans where you knelt down in front of him working on his belt and jeans. She helped you slide his jeans and boxers down his long legs leaving him gloriously naked between you both. He felt oddly relaxed yet ridiculously aroused all at the same time. He glanced down at you with a wicked smirk, stroking your hair softly. You were doing really well so far and it was turning him on how unabashed you were about all of this, how curious you were to explore your new friend. You stood up and crawled on the bed with her next to you. You looked at her and you both giggled like you were up to no good. Billy smirked, slowly fisting himself as he approached the bed casually.

It surprised you how comfortable you were so far with her around. You were curious and you especially loved how Billy seemed to enjoy the two of you together. You moved so she'd be in the middle and you laid on your side next to her. Billy lay on the other side, head propped up on his hand as he shot you an amused grin. His fingers traced patterns absentmindedly on the girl's stomach but his eyes were glued to you.

You ran one hand over her breasts and kissed her shoulder trailing kisses down to her breast. You kissed and took her nipple inside your mouth enjoying the sounds she made. Billy's dick twitched at the sight and sounds and he moved to kneel between the girl's legs as he watched you lavish her breasts with attention. He parted her thighs before diving right in, devouring her with his mouth as she squirmed and gasped. He hummed against her, enjoying how she tasted. You tasted better but he was still loving it as he fucked her with his tongue. You curiously looked as he ate her, never been able to see it before obviously. It turned you on to see his lips and tongue work around her pussy. You loved how she moaned and you wanted to touch her too. You tentatively ran two fingers between her legs, down her folds where his lips were and he looked up at you.

"Can I help?" You asked with a little timid grin.

He moved away from the girl's pussy, licking his lips as he quirked a brow.

"Be my guest, kitten," he smirked, his voice low and rough from his arousal. His eyes had already changed to red but his fangs were still away.

You bit your lower lip meeting his dark red eyes, rubbed your fingers up and down her folds enjoying how she squirmed at the touch. You moved down on the bed next to Billy so you could have a better view and reach. You didn't want to take her from him just yet. You wanted to try her for yourself but you wanted to watch and learn for now.

"You can keep going, please. I won't be in your way. I'd just like to watch you before I try," you said to Billy with a naughty yet bashful grin biting your lower lip hard. He bit his lip to stifle a groan at your words as he went back to licking and sucking on the girl's clit as she moaned.

You opened her legs wider with your free hand and slid a finger inside her pussy leaving her wide open for Billy to devour. She was so warm and wet like liquid silk, you groaned a bit enjoying the feeling of her around your finger. You made sure to be out of Billy's way as you fingered her at a slow pace and brushed Billy's hair back with your free hand. He was really enjoying the both of you pleasuring the girl, soaking in her sweet little noises from the feelings you were both giving her.

"How do I do the thing I love when you finger me? I'm not entirely sure where.." You trailed off moving your finger around like you were looking for a lightswitch or something. Surely he could fit a finger in with your small one?

He chuckled as he moved away a little, sliding a finger inside of her against yours, making her gasp softly.

"Curl your fingers here, like this," he murmured as he felt that sweet spot instantly, the girl letting out a loud moan as he did. He didn't want to take over since you had plans for her so he slipped his finger back out, eyes on your finger inside of her in curiosity and arousal. You mimicked his movements on the spot he found for you and you felt a slight difference of texture but you were amazed he could find it so fast. Probably with a lot of practice. It was an instant reaction from her as she buckled up off the mattress in moans. Your eyebrows shot upwards and you looked at Billy with a surprised smirk. She was much more vocal and quick to respond to your touch than Billy was but maybe it was a female thing because you reacted like her a lot too. Billy was really getting a kick out of watching you with another girl. The way you were so new to this and exploring her curiously.

After a few minutes of you two pleasuring her, you slowly pulled Billy’s head back by his hair in a pleasurable way. He groaned and glanced at you with a quirked brow.

“My turn,” you said excitingly, making a sly grin creep onto his lips. You leaned down and kissed him while running your hand some more in his hair. You pulled your finger off her as you scooted over and took his place between her legs. She looked down at you panting, her pretty cheeks all blushed and you moaned seeing the state of her. You gave her wet folds a tentative lick and looked up at Billy watching you with something like pride in his eyes and it pleased you immensely. You gave her small kitten licks and studied how she reacted to certain things you did. You could taste both her and Billy as you gave her cunt open-mouthed kisses. You slid a finger in then a second one inside her and wondered if you'd be able to make her come.

Billy was really enjoying watching you pleasure the girl but he was done with just watching and not doing. He moved behind you, his hands palming your ass roughly as he admired it, manoeuvring you so your ass was in the air with your legs spread open for him. He leaned down and started fucking your soaked hole with his tongue greedily, moaning as the taste of you exploded on his tongue. You gasped and let out a loud moan at him pleasing you this new way. Your brain stopped processing thoughts for a few and you forgot about the other girl squirming under you. You went back to pleasing her, only this time a little less focused, sloppily. He went at you harder and faster, the sound of your moans mixed with the other girl's sending him into a frenzy. He fed off the pleasure in the room and fisted himself a little to ease the aching in his cock.

You felt the girl clamp down around your fingers and she came loudly. Her pleasure seemed to call your own, the tale tell tingly feeling growing inside you. You helped her through her high and carefully removed your fingers from her. You rested your head on her lower belly now able to fully focus on your own climax building up fast. You closed your small fists around the bedsheets and you pushed back on his face coming with a loud gasp. He almost came when you did, having to stop touching himself as he eased you through it with his tongue and didn't waste a drop of your cum. He wondered if you'd enjoyed making the other girl cum too. After a long lick, he moved away and lay down, anticipation reaching its peak at where things would soon be going. He couldn't wait.

You whined at the loss of his tongue inside you, missing his touch already. You moved up and flopped down on your back next to Billy and her with a lazy smile. You looked at his handsome face, his lips wet with your juices. You leaned over to kiss him and groaned, tasting both you and her on his lips.

"Can we play all night? There’s just so much I wanna do to you two," you purred above his lips, your voice thick with arousal and neediness. He grinned, taking your lower lip between his teeth and tugging on it a little. He felt a little drunk from his desire and no release but he was waiting for the big finale before he came.

"Can play as long as you want, kitten," he drawled against your lips, his hands roaming your skin everywhere he could touch as a primal desire for him ripped through you.

"Headboard, now" you said to Billy with a sudden uncharastically dominance that took you off guard. You felt a flicker of fear at the startling realisation and you froze like a deer in headlights. You didn't understand what happened or why you'd give an order to him of all persons. You opened your mouth as if you wanted to apologize, talk or maybe even whimper, you didn’t really know. Billy's eyebrows shot up, not expecting you to act that way but he'd be a liar if he said it didn't make his dick twitch.

“Please? Sir?” you added submissively this time, a little hesitant and timid at the tone you had used. He chuckled darkly, not even mad about you trying to order him around. How could he be when you were so adorable? He did as you requested, moving to sit against the headboard.

You crawled to his lap and looked up at him as you stroked his painfully hard cock, making him let out a dirty moan at finally feeling some fiction. You kissed him languidly and slowly, moaning into the kiss. You felt the other girl roll over and move next to you to lavish him with attention too. You scooted over and gave the head of his cock a wet kiss. You saw her lick the side of his cock and you stopped stroking it to lick and suck on it instead with her help. His head fell back, hitting the wall with a dull thud as he groaned, a hand in each of your hairs. He couldn't get enough out of all the attention you were both giving him. You both kissed, licked and sucked his dick together like a shared lollipop. Sometimes your tongue and your lips would find hers and you'd indulge in a bit of kissing before going back to sharing him. Billy just sat there and took it. Moaning and arching up a little as he felt his pleasure increasing almost painfully. The louder Billy moaned, the more you and her wrestled for his dick, both wanting to be the one to make him come.

You stopped fighting her and sat back on your heels glaring at her sucking him hungrily. A curious and dark urge filled your mind and you bit your lip, smirking wickedly. The thoughts had you feel something like arousal, like desire. You gripped her hair roughly and pushed her head down. You felt an overwhelming satisfaction at seeing her choke over his dick and you kept her head there for a few more seconds as she started to whimper. Billy's eyes almost rolled back as he gasped, lewd moans spewing from his lips at the feeling and he tried his hardest to not just cum down the girl's pretty little throat.

You yanked her head back off his dick and chuckled darkly at her face.

"Oh? I'm sorry! For a second there I thought you weren't grateful to have his cock down your throat!" You said to her mockingly, enjoying controlling and dominating her. You considered letting go of her hair, your head tilted to one side with a little pout as she coughed and gasped. Billy's eyes widened, lips parting as he looked from you to the girl. He had no idea what the hell had gotten into you but he fucking loved it. You looked up at Billy for his thoughts like you were asking him about the weather and not about you forcing his dick down the girl's windpipe. You were about to open your mouth to spit more venom at her but Billy's stern voice stopped you.

"Now, now, kitten. Be nice. Don't wanna break her before we get to the… big finish," he smirked devilishly, red eyes glinting with arousal and hunger as they darted from you to the girl. His darkness seemed to swirled around you and you smiled, letting go of her hair. He had reminded you what was coming for her in the end and it soothed your possessiveness and bitter jealousy for the girl. You laid down on your back next to him and invited him between your legs by spreading them wide open, caressing your inner thighs. Billy eyes trailed over your body hungrily, his need only stronger since you showed him a peek of your darkness. He hadn't thought you had it in you. A flicker of vicious anger hit you as she took the invite for herself and crawled on top of you. You kissed her back lazily as you kept your attention on Billy appearing behind her.

One hand stroked your leg as the other smoothed up the girl's back softly. He was done waiting now, he was sure his dick might fall off at any second if he didn't get some release. He roughly pushed into the girl with a loud dirty moan, feeling relief sweep through his body at the sensation. The girl whined and moaned, arching back at him and rubbing herself against you at the same time. You were instantly jealous of her, how he picked to fuck her first when your own pussy was not even 3 inches from her. You kept your mouth shut for Billy’s sake, this whole thing was for him after all. It has pleased you, it was great to try new things and new ways to please him too but you were just about done having her around.

Billy grabbed her hips and started pounding into her harshly. Finally feeling friction made him desperate for his climax and his moans bounced off the walls, mixing with hers as he fucked her senseless. His eyes locked onto yours over the girl's shoulder and he gave you a devilish smirk. There was no way in hell she was gonna be the one to get his cum inside her, no way. You looked at Billy with an evil wicked look in your eyes.

"Tell me, did you compel her to let you feed on her?" You asked curiously, running your hands on her shoulders and neck over you. He slowed down his savage pace with the girl but didn't stop and she whined as she pushed back at him.

"Of course I did. Didn't need her cryin' about it and ruinin' the night," he smirked, giving the girl a particularly harsh thrust that made a keening moan leave her lips. He'd compelled the girl to be a docile little lamb and she'd been a good girl. He'd enjoyed her company. It was almost a shame how the night would end for her. Almost.

"Meh...Shame. I'd have loved to see her frightened little hysterical face," you said almost snarling the last word. Billy couldn't help the dark chuckle at your words. Your blatant jealousy amused him but he was enjoying seeing this darker side of you. You gripped at her hair painfully tight and yanked her head to the side, offering her pearly white neck to him mercilessly. Billy's mouth watered as his eyes darted from her very appealing neck to your face, brows raising at how different you were being.

"I think it's time for a midnight snack, sir." You said, already enjoying seeing him snarl behind her. You were so done, her use had officially expired and the coup de grace of the night was coming.

He groaned, your darkness making the beast inside of him purr as he sunk his fangs into the girl's neck. He started drinking from her greedily, her blood making a wave of pure euphoria wash over him and heighten the pleasure he was feeling as he still thrust into her. He could hear her heart rate slow down quickly as he drank her blood fervently, savoring the taste of her. He kept going until her heart stopped, until there was nothing left. He pulled out of her and carelessly shoved her off you. He did it so roughly that her lifeless body rolled off the bed and hit the floor with a thud but he paid it no mind.

You looked back at him kneeling in the middle of the bed and you felt nothing but adoration for him. He was licking his bloody lips clean with a satisfied smug smirk. Although you just saw him feed, drain a girl of all her blood and shrug her off the bed like a lifeless doll, you wanted him. You gave him a wicked smile and he pounced on you, the blood in his system setting him ablaze with feral need as he pushed into you with a loud groan. He forced his fangs to retract so he could kiss you without worrying he'd cut you. His tongue dominated your mouth as he rut into you like a man possessed. You moaned loudly into the hungry and rough kiss. Your hands were all over his body as you caressed and gripped every inch of him. You felt drunk on him, you needed him like you needed air.

“Yes, please. Take me, I’m yours,” you whispered, opening up wider and meeting his thrusts hard.

He rested his forehead on yours as he fucked you, his hand winding around your throat but only applying a small amount of pressure.

"My sweet kitty," he murmured between moans, sounding drunk almost as he lost himself in his haze of pure ecstasy.

You nodded quickly, looking up into his dark red eyes making soft little moans and gasps over and over. You were so close to a second orgasm your legs shook from the intense build up.

"Such a good girl," he moaned, feeling his release creeping up on him. His pace got harder and faster as he chased it desperately, a hand snaking between you to rub your clit to bring you over the edge first. Your nails dug in the skin of his back as you arched up into him. You let a series of moans so loud it hurt your throat, you came like you were falling down a never ending cliff of pleasure. You felt tears of joy leave the corners of your eyes to disappear in your hair.

He gasped, his whole body tensing up before he let out a guttural moan and he came blindingly hard, spilling himself inside of you. He was sure he'd never cum that hard in his life before and his brain stopped working for a whole minute. You looked up at him with pure adoration. You didn't see him as a monster anymore, his red eyes, his fangs, his thirst for blood, it was all part of him. He was your master, your lover, your everything and pleasing him pleased you greatly. Tears left your eyes as he showered you with attention and praises. He looked ecstatic at the night you planned and gave him. You lived for this. You'd bury twenty other girls if it meant making him this happy and proud with you.

He nuzzled your neck, practically purring as he felt calm and sated and very satisfied. You didn't yet go off him just yet, you wanted to be in his arms like this forever, watching him cum and ride the pleasure you gave him.

He pulled out of you, moving to lay beside you as he turned your face to his. He gave you a lazy grin, feeling more than pleased with you and how the night had gone. You'd surprised him a few times and he was starting to wonder if he was rubbing off on you. It amused him.

"You did good, kitten. I'm proud of you," he murmured with a sweet smile, his fingers sliding up your side softly, his fingertips just kissing your skin. You felt your beaming smile fall slightly, remembering how you didn't follow his order earlier that evening. You felt guilty and unworthy of all his praises suddenly.

"I, uh," you said, licking your lips nervously. You could hide it and never mention it but the thought of not coming clean with it made your skin crawl. He glanced at you curiously, hearing your heart beat change and he raised a brow expectantly for you to continue.

"I-I...I misbehaved earlier," you said without explanation. You looked at him from the corner of our eye wondering if you were about to ruin the night.

"You did?" He asked, confused, wondering how he missed something like that.

"I had a sip of whiskey to calm my nerves when you were gone and you had told me to only get one glass," you said, hanging your head down in shame. Billy suppressed a snort, realisation dawning on him. He thought you were talking about something a lot worse.

"I didn't do it to upset you. I did it because I wanted to calm down, to make sure you’d have a great time like I wanted you to and like you did." You added, brushing a fingertip over his skin.

"Will you forgive me?" You asked him looking up with pleading eyes. He made a show of looking like he was thinking it through. He'd already decided not to punish you for that earlier and he'd already known since he'd tasted it and smelt it on you. But it was only a sip and he knew you were nervous so he'd decided to let it go. And right now he was feeling pretty generous after the night he'd had. He didn't much feel like punishing you.

"I will, but don't do it again, okay?" He asked with a firm look, his fingers tracing circles on your hip.

You nodded and hummed in approval, turning over on your belly.

"Maybe just one smack to make sure?" You proposed biting a finger trying to hold off a giggle at the thought of it. It had been forever since he slapped your ass and it had been an interesting experience. He snorted as he raised a brow, amused at how you wanted to be spanked. His hand palmed one of your ass cheeks as he lay there feeling completely serene. He gave it a quick but harsh smack, a lazy smirk toying on his lips. You moaned and a soft gasp left your lips as you rubbed your hips on the mattress. You bit your lower lip and hummed at the purring pleasure waking up once more. You crawled on top of him and gave him a smirk.

"How about another quick one before I go bury our friend?"

A hand reached up and gripped your jaw, pulling you down for a deep kiss.

"Nope," he drawled against your lips with a devilish smirk.

"You're gettin' greedy. Now go clean up the mess," he grinned wickedly. Just because he was in a particularly good mood didn't mean he'd let you forget your place. Your demeanor had changed so much with him in such a short space of time, and while he was enjoying these new sides to you, there was such a thing as you getting too comfortable with him. He wasn't going to let that happen. You were his pet, not his equal. He wasn't going to reinforce behaviour that would make you more demanding.

#billy russo #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo x female reader #billy russo/reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfics #billy russo x you #ben barnes #billy russo x y/n #dark!billy russo #vampire!billy russo #vampire!billy #vampire billy #vampire #billy russo smut #billy russo fanfic

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russosafehaven · 1 year

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Pieces of Us - 3

Pairing: Dark!Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Content: Dark Fic, Castle!Reader, Billy loves the chase, NSFW, Dubcon, Noncon, Billy is obsessive and perverted, Public Sex

POV: Second

BR Taglist: @snowkestrel @judig92 @k-marzolf

Pieces of Us Taglist: @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

When Billy sent you off to Frank he almost instantly regretted it. Krista hadn’t let him talk about you, she was jealous. He didn’t need to be functioning properly to pick it up. In his hands he held the black fabric of your undergarments. There was a spot of blood from where he accidentally nicked you cutting them off. He missed the feeling, missed your scent. He needed you again.

As he walked out the building he’d been hiding out in Billy pulled on a dark grey hoodie. It was around 1:45pm so you’d be at this local baker getting something to eat. When he spotted you through the window he waited. You’d excused yourself from the person you were eating lunch with, a decent looking man with red glasses perched on his nose. Billy followed you into the bathroom and kicked the door to your stall open.

“B-Billy what are you doing here?”

He raised a finger to his lips, silencing you. You watched with interest as his hand moved to your mouth. Oh… this was his plan.

“I’ve missed you, think it’s about time I get buried in this little cunt of yours”

Your body went rigid, you hadn’t expected it so soon. It’d only been a day or two since he had ruined you last time. As he unbuckled his belt you tried to block out the sounds. His free hand palmed at the curve of your ass, lifting your skirt up over it.

“That guy you’re with, does he fuck you like I do?”

Instantly you shook your head. Whimpering a small chain of “no’s” as you did. No one could treat you like Billy could. He was pure predator, nothing more but a hunter. You were the prey.

Instead of cutting your panties off he pulled the down. It made you curious to his plan. Before you could even try to question it he ripped you shirt open. A button falling to the floor. Billy shoved you around so your covered breasts were on full display.

“I’ve already got some panties, how about I take this pretty little bra instead? Then I can send you back to Frankie with this pretty little number filled with cum”

Your eyes widened, what did you do to deserve this? Billy smiled wickedly, he was going to ravage you. Without any warning he shoved his length inside of you. As you attempted to scream his tightened his grip around your mouth.

“You fucking scream I’ll slit your throat right here you understand?”

You nodded, refusing to speak in case you screamed. His pace was brutal and every time his tip kissed tour cervix you wanted to cry. It wasn’t like you were a stranger to Billy being rough, it was his nature. This… this was something different, you weren’t human in this position. No you were just a convenient pussy for Billy to send a message through. He may tell you he remembered your love together but did he truly? Or was it a ploy so he could keep you around?

“Fuck you’re so tight baby, so good for me”

His words started to slur, guess being in hospital meant Billy couldn’t hold it as long as he used to. With a few more violent thrusts he let go, cum dripping down your thighs. Billy knelt down pressing a kiss to each thigh. Pulling your panties over the mess he pressed his lips to your now clothed core.

“Such pretty thighs”

He stayed down a little while, making you wonder his true motive. Haphazardly he sunk his teeth into the flesh, biting and sucking until a purple mark appeared. Small whimpers left your throat and you had to cover your mouth. Billy repeated the motions a few more times until they were all bruise.

He stood up, cupping your face and kissing you. It wasn’t affectionate or passionate, it was primal. Pure tainted rage all leading up to his lips against yours. As he kissed you your bra was unclasped, dangling in his heads when he pulled away.

“Say hi to Frankie for me baby doll”

With that he walked out, leaving you to get yourself somewhat presentable. As you went back to your table Matt looked at your curiously. You waved him off, muttering something about how it was work stuff. The blind man knew you were lying, you weren’t great at it. What the truth was? He wasn’t sure, but with Karen and Jessica’s help he could find out.

#billy russo #billy russo imagine #billy russo x reader #ben barnes #the punisher imagine #x reader #billy russo fluff #billy russo angst #billy russo x yn #dark!billy russo

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stardustmorozov · 2 years

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@marvelmusing probably not exactly how you were envisioning it... but it absolutely won't leave my brain so here you have a teaser

"Do you trust our god, little dove?" As he spoke, he moved around you, closing the last door behind you. "I do." "Good. Because he has decided to reward you for your loyalty. For your effort and your care. And I must say, I agree with him." You felt a spark of pride bloom in your chest as he praised you, happy that your god had noticed your efforts and appreciated them. "Will you accept his blessing, little dove?" His words ghosted over your lips from how close he was to you and you simply nodded, but it wasn't good enough for him. "Words, little dove, I need words. Do you accept the blessing of your god?" His hands wandered over your torso as he spoke, lighting a fire into the pit of your stomach. "Yes," you said with a deep breath, "yes I will accept his blessing."

#this will be my first dark fic...#if it comes out before the vampire one #which is v likely #but yeah the full fic will be a case of: 'dead dove do not eat'#dark!billy #dark!billy russo #dark!billy russo x reader #dark!billy x reader #cult leader!billy russo #cult leader!billy #the punisher au

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 4 months

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No Other Gods

Serial killer! Billy Russo x Female Reader.

Billy’s POV mostly

Summary: Billy’s on the run, moving from place to place as he leaves a trail of bodies behind. When he steps into a church to hide, he stumbles upon someone that makes him want to stay.

Warnings: Dub- con, violence, gore, blood, blood smearing, so much murder, mentions of Billy's past assault attempt, suggestion of possible sexual assault attempts toward the reader, religious themes, blasphemy, sexual acts in a church, thoughts of non-con (no actual non-con), poison, restraints, oral, fingering, sexual intercourse, wax play/heat play, Devil worship.

If you want clarification on a possible trigger, I am happy to elaborate.

I took the dove out back, shot it, then resurrected it so I could kill it again. Be warned.

For my lovely @ittybxttykxttytxtty who was so instrumental in the design of this fic. This goes out to you, love, who reminded me that I shouldn't be afraid to write whatever inspires me.

He’s calm.

Each step he takes is slow, measured, he hears the echo of it on the quiet street, the drag of his shoe on the concrete sidewalk.

He turns the corner, and has to fight the instinct to hold his breath as they turn their heads to look up at him. The murder weapon tucked into the waistband of his jeans feels ten pounds heavier.

Even breaths, one in, one out, he knows nothing, he has no sense of concern, or worry. He blinks, feels trepidation wash from his skin.

Internally, he readjusts his course, doesn’t want to walk past the group of officers that are studying him from further up the street, doesn’t want to answer questions just yet, not until he has his story straight.

From the corner of his eye, he catches sight of the church and he changes his walk ever so slightly that it looks as though he’s been heading there the entire time.

When he’s at the closest point, he raises his head and smiles, gives a little wave to the officers, wishes them a good day, though he knows what they know, and it’s not a good day for them.

The church is pristine, unlike the other buildings on the street, it stands with fresh paint and the smell of almost dried varnish and scrubbed steps that tell him that this church is probably the most coveted place in the entire town.

Billy, having just cut a man’s throat in the High school gymnasium, steps past the door, and does not immediately combust.

Surely, that must mean he’s doing something right, that his cause is a good one, maybe even approved of in the eyes of God.

He’s not convinced.

For a moment, he thinks it’s empty, thinks he’s alone with God and his thoughts, up until the slight movement of shoulders draws his eye.

He’s in disbelief that he missed you the first time, the light of the stained glass hitting your sedentary form.

He takes some quiet steps forward, swears he feels the concealed knife grow warmer. He watches you, studies in rapt attention the way the coloured lights look on you, the way they illuminate your hair, makes his fingers ache to touch something that looks explicit in its forbiddenness.

Your dress is white, or a cream colour that tells him the outward state of your mind, the purity nurtured in your soul.

He moves faster now, eager to see you, to know what you look like, to hear your voice, to look into your eyes.

He turns when he makes it to your pew, sees the way the light caresses the planes of your face, and he wishes he could do the same.

You are radiant, undisturbed beauty, your hands clasped together beneath your chin, a small rosary wound between your fingers. He wants to touch your hair, swirl strands of it around his finger, he wants to feel your skin, hold your form beneath his palms.

Everything he wants, halts, the moment you turn your head and look up at him.

His lips part in surprise, he’s taken by you. You must be an angel, or something more.

“Hello.” You say softly, gazing up at him with unsure eyes.

“Hello sweetheart, I'm sorry to bother you.” Billy answers smoothly, as though he isn't desperate for you to get closer so that he can catch your scent.

You look like you smell like flowers, he thinks to himself, bristles with delight when you finally stand, the light streaming through the stained glass paints you with a myriad of colors.

“It's okay,” you soothe, “I don't mind helping.” You smile at him, an ease of trust in your eyes. Trust, he could so easily extinguish with the weapon concealed on him.

You extend your hand, giving him your name, he smiles, gives his back. In your eyes, he can see something he doesn’t quite recognize.

Too pure, Billy finally decides. You're too pure, there must be some wrong.

“I’m new to town,” Billy explains, leaning in so that he can stand in God’s light with you, in hopes that you can absolve him of the thing he has done.

“Got a little bit lost. Will you help me find my way?”

You smile, and it reminds him of warm fires in the winter, of standing in sunlight after being drenched from head to toe.

“Where are you going?”

One of the wives whispers something in your ear, Billy watches you tilt your head back laughing. You had this entire town wrapped around your finger and before he’d arrived, he’s sure no one had ever questioned your purity.

A white dress and blue cardigan, he wants to take you into one of the back rooms of the church and push his murderous hands under your dress, feel your gasp in his skin as his hands paw at your delectable thighs.

He wants to ruin the very image of you, reshape you for him, and him alone.

He turns his head slightly, observes that he’s not the only man here transfixed by you, but one in particular catches his eye.

The reverend, in the same clothes he’s just delivered Sunday sermon, gazes lustfully at you, his glasses balanced at the very tip of his nose to conceal the direction of his eyes.

He recognises the expression, knows it like he’s looking into the face of someone who once looked at him the very same way. The reason he started killing in the first place.

He feels the itch swell inside of himself, his fingers flex.

It seems as though it would be time to hunt again very soon.

“Lost again?” Someone says behind him while he’s picking out laundry detergent.

He turns, seeing you there, in a pale pink shirt, and tan pants that hide your figure from his view.

He smiles, watches the way you light up even more. A sweet, little morsel made for his fangs.

He holds up two different boxes of detergent for you to see.

“What do you think?” He asks.

You hum, deep in thought.

“This one,” You say, pointing at the item in his right hand, “smells too flowery for my taste, and you don’t seem like a man that likes to smell like flowers.”

He smiles, raises his eyebrows, intrigued.

“And this one,” You point to his other hand, “Oh, that’s the one I use.”

“So it must be the best.” He agrees, as if you made a proper suggestion, putting the latter into his shopping cart.

You smile up at him in amusement.

“So, how are you getting all of this back to your place?” You ask, tilting your head at the moderate amount of groceries in his cart.

He turns, looking at what you were observing.

“You’re right, I might have picked up too many things for my walk back home. I’ll have to put some things back.” He agrees with her implications.

“No way!” You protest, reaching to take his hand, tugging him with you.

“Pastor Wade brought me along with his wife, I’m sure they’ll have some extra space in the back for you.” He follows, feeling anger that Wade had found himself closer to you than before. You wave your hand excitedly at the reverend, and Billy smiles internally at the sour look he receives from the man himself.

The trunk gets filled with the reverend’s new items, and Billy smiles, looks at you as you tilt your head, trying to solve a problem of too many groceries and too many people trying to fit into one vehicle.

“Give it up,” He says, mouth angled near your ear, “I’ll find another ride-”

“Don't you dare,” You argue, “I promised you a ride home and I won’t back down now.”

He smirks, watches you pile yours, and then his items into the backseat of the car. When you’re done, there’s only just enough space for only one person to fit.

“That’s okay.” You insist, “I can sit on you, if you don’t mind?”

Of course he doesn’t mind.

“If you’re sure.” He taunts.

“It’s a great idea.” Wade’s wife echoes, too eager to have them both in the back seat and the journey started.

Billy does his best to appear aloof, he gets in, and looks up at you expectantly.

You’re hesitant at first, before looking around, and then climbing into the back seat of the car to seat yourself in his lap.

Billy takes a deep breath, exhales, watches the pores on your neck and collarbone rise when his breath touches you.

A few moments into the ride and you’re wriggling uncomfortably in his lap.

“What is it?” He asks.

“Warm.” You explain, reaching for the buttons on your pink cardigan, brushing his stomach with your hand as you tug it off your shoulders.

Billy watches, with rapt attention as you reveal a white shirt beneath your cardigan. When you almost slip off his lap, he reaches to grip your knees.

“Hold on, sweetheart.” He whispers, just so you can hear.

You hold conversation with Wade and his wife throughout the journey, talking about how excited you are for the upcoming Christmas season, and that dressing up as an angel at the annual concert is a highlight for you.

All the while, Billy keeps you seated in his lap, your ass right on his hardening cock, the smell of blossoms drifting from your hair.

He closes his eyes, tries to distract himself from thinking too much about you, but he knows it doesn’t work. When the road gets bumpy, Wade apologises for the rough ride, and you respond with something reassuring.

You stiffen after a moment, and he knows he’s been caught.

He knows you feel him when you turn your head to look at him in surprise, his cock, hot and hard below your ass, rubbing against you as the car sputters along.

He looks right back at you, meets your shocked look with a sinister one of his own, wants you to know what a man feels like, makes sure you commit him to memory.

In the rearview, he sees pastor Wade glance at the pair of you. Billy looks back, holds his eyes, gives the supposedly pious man a smirk.

The next Sunday, you sit beside him in church.

It completely unfocuses him from his next target, he tilts his head to look at you.

Such a curious thing, drawn to something you now know isn’t as wholesome as appeared to be. It makes him feral, makes him want to put his hand on your thigh, slide it slowly up until he’s at the apex, tuck his obscenely large fingers under the waistband of your panties, find you dripping, feel you aching, press a lone finger to your swollen clit, make your sweet little cunt gush in God’s sacred domain.

When it’s time to take his hand in prayer, he makes sure to do it as slowly as possible, dragging his fingers along your palm, your touch makes him feel blessed.

It becomes a habit, sitting beside him for Sunday mass, the eroticism of your touch right before you pray, before you ask God for forgiveness from all your impure thoughts and deeds, and Billy sits besides you, blood dripping from his hands as he imagines the ways he wants to violate you in this very church.

It’s a Wednesday evening when he steps into the church, the most desolate time possible. He knows there’s only two people here, him, and his target.

He moves slowly, cautiously, on the balls of his feet to avoid making too much sound. The wind blows, the front doors to the church groan.

He passes the stained glass windows where he’d first met you, he passes the pew he sits at every Sunday while thinking about you, he passes the doors at the back of the church that he thought would make a decent place to defile you.

He goes deeper, till he can hear the quiet familiar slapping of a man going at it.

He’s not shocked by it, or scandalised, he knows his wife barely touches him, he knows she has an idea of what goes on inside his head. Billy’s studied her too, looked at her while she watched the way he leaned in to speak to you, a spark of realisation in her eyes.

He makes gentle movements, turning the doorknob with two of his fingers at a pace so slow it goes unnoticed by the person on the other side of the door.

He gazes steadily through the small gap.

Pastor Wade has your pink cardigan pressed to his face. Billy remembers the last place he saw you wear it- in the back of Wade's car.

He has one hand to his face, and the other stroking his meagre erection. Billy waits, in the stillness, the only sounds are the preacher’s laboured breaths and the movement of his hand.

There’s a right moment to act, and Billy waits patiently, he doesn’t have to talk himself into this one as much as he’s done with some others before. This one comes easily, in part because he’s grown accustomed to the feel of blood spilling onto his hands, almost craving it now, but mostly, it’s because Wade’s next intended victim is you.

In front of him, Wade groans, tilting his head back pace quickening. Billy pushes the door open. The wooden door doesn’t groan like it did before, Billy had greased the hinges just last week in preparation for this.

Billy stands behind the man, waiting for the precise moment, and when the preacher lets another groan loose from his lips, a warning of impending release, Billy strikes.

The man comes just as his throat is cut open, blood spraying from his neck as semen spills from his cock. Warm blood pours over Billy’s hands, as he supports the man as he drops, not wanting to cause more noise than necessary.

He lies on his side, turns his head upward, mouth parting in surprise as he sees Billy’s face.

“I wish I could punish you more, but I’m not worried, I know the Devil is going to take his sweet time with you.”

He watches the words register behind the dying man’s eyes, and Billy smiles wickedly as life leaves him.

He tugs your cardigan free from Wade’s hand, it’s partially soaked in blood and will need to be properly disposed of, he doesn’t want anyone finding it and linking you to the crime in any way.

He studies the soft pink material, smiles at the thought of you. He brings the material up to his nose, catching the smell of blossoms just barely clinging to the fabric.

The fluttering wings of a bird above makes him glance upwards, and he figures one must have found its way into the space between the ceiling and the roof, searching for a comfortable space.

He uses your cardigan to clean his knife, before turning, and heading for a sink to wash the blood from his hands.

He brings a casserole to the deceased’s house the evening they discover him dead.

It’s just a little something to help out, he explains to Wade’s widow when he greets her in the kitchen. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen, crying from the moment she’d heard the news, no doubt.

He doesn’t stay with her too long, excusing himself despite her attempts to hold onto his hand, the women around her gazing at him, more intrigued than ever about his culinary skills.

He wants to find you, to see you. There’s an itching inside of him that won’t go away until he knows you’re here with him.

When he finally catches sight of you, something inside of him unknots itself. You’re standing in the middle of a large group of concerned people, you look like you’re fighting tears with everything you have. A woman touches your shoulder, and you raise your head to give her a brave smile.

He pauses on the outskirts, wonders how he’s ever going to get your attention.

But he doesn’t have to worry, because your eyes lock with his as soon as he stands still, as if you’d been seeking him out this entire time. He gives you a small smile, something of an icebreaker from so far away, and you take it as an invitation, running right to him with tears already spilling down your cheeks.

Your body collides with his, and for a moment, there’s only you, and the softness of your form, and the smell of your hair and he’s quietly reassuring you that everything is going to be okay.

He enjoys it, the way you grip his shirt, the way you cling to him with every ounce of strength you have. He hugs you back, finding a way to the soft loveseat in Wade’s living room. You don’t pull your head from his chest as you cry, you shake with big, heaving sobs, and he tries his best to comfort you.

If you’d only known what Wade’s intentions were with you, you wouldn’t be crying. After a while you calm, and you continue to cling to him while you sniffle, his shirt damp with your tears and he wears it like a badge of honour.

So many people stop in to check on you, more and more with each passing hour. Billy thinks more people are concerned with your wellbeing than with Wade’s actual widow.

It amuses him, that so many people are drawn to you, that you have such influence on everyone, that they care so much for you, and here you are, tucked into his body, turning your head into his chest to cry every now and again, growing less frequent with the more time that passes.

Later, he offers to take you home. He’s just been able to afford a slightly beat up car, and he asks if you’d be okay with being driven by him. You accept with sleepy eyes, and he smiles internally, going to find Wade’s wife to bid her goodbye.

He overhears one person speaking with another about the state in which the body was found, covered in his own blood and semen, throat slit from ear to ear. Billy is delighted to hear it, he wants everyone to know, he wants to shame Wade’s name, even in death.

His widow is sad to watch Billy leave, she grips at him once more, trying to wrap her arms around him the way you do. When he mentions your name, he watches her stiffen, mouth set in a grim line, something in her eyes like accusation, or knowledge of something that she cannot say to another soul.

She doesn’t speak her accusations to him, and he leaves, wraps an arm around your wobbling form and helps guide you to his car.

You’re so tired, and you fall asleep in his car as soon as you’re buckled in. He drives slowly, takes the long way, anything to be by your side longer. Your cheeks are stained with tears, he thinks about how beautiful you’re going to look in black.

You hum sleepily, reaching across, he blinks in surprise when you take his hand in yours.

“I heard how he died. Can’t wrap my head around it. Someone just decided he shouldn’t be alive anymore. Can you believe that?”

The lord giveth, and the lord taketh away, he wants to say.

Out loud, “I’ve seen it a couple of times, back in New York.” he says instead.

You squeeze his hand.

“Do you think you could ever take a life?”

His breaths pause, it was time to confess to you.

“I have,” He clears his throat, “I have killed people, I was in the army.”

Your head swivels to him in his peripherals, he glances back with a sad smile.

“I just thought you should know.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

You continue to hold his hand.

“You- you’re not- you don’t hate me?”

“It’s not in me to hate, I have to believe that the path you’re on was necessary to bring you to me.”

“To you?”

“So I can help you.” You answer, squeezing his hand.

He wants to rip you apart and reshape you with his own hands.

When he finally gets to your house, he helps you out of the car, helping you up the few stairs and supporting your weight as you get the door open. When he tries to let you walk on your own, you stumble, and he has to catch you before you fall.

“I’m really tired.” You explain to him, and he hums in understanding.

He takes you up to bed, watches you collapse onto the soft surface, knee length dress rucking up so that he catches just the quickest glimpse of your underwear.

His hands clench into fists. He wants to push your skirt up, bury his face between your legs, taste your little cunt, worship you until you come on his tongue.

“Will you stay?” You ask, arms spread out, legs slightly bent as they press together.

He kicks his shoes off decisively.

“What will people say?” He teases.

“You don’t strike me as a man who’s ever cared about that.” You whisper softly.

He grins, climbs into bed beside you, reaches around your hip so that he can pull your body against his.

“Goodnight, angel.” He whispers as your eyelids flutter, struggling to stay conscious.

“G’night, Billy.” You respond, touching your face into his chest once more before you doze off completely.

It's too much power, and you must know it. To fall asleep so easily right beside him, every temptation to be like the predators he hunts. He could press his palm to your thigh, drag his hand up to your hips, you would never even know. He could do so much worse, pin you to the bed, pull his cock out and take you right here, watch you wake in shock while he fills you. Watch his cum leak out of your little hole. What could stop him? You? God? Everything he's wanted at the tip of fingers and all he has to do is take.

In the end, he doesn't do it. He lies beside you and thinks of all the vile things he could do and doesn't act on a single thing and he doesn't really know why.

He thinks it's because of the consequences. Doing that would mean you wouldn't want to be around him, and he needed you to want to be around him.

By the time morning comes, and you wake, he's spent the entire night memorizing the feel of your body against his. If you feel his aching erection, you say nothing of it, and he's not sure if that's a good thing or not.

He finds you right after the funeral, lighting the candles that have gone out when the doors had been wide open to allow the coffin through.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, approaching you, swallows as he finally has a chance to fully appreciate your funeral attire.

It's loose, giving you an almost formless shape, to hide from everyone's view, your skirt is just a little shorter than usual, probably something you haven't worn in a while, resting at mid thigh and no doubt giving the women something to chat about in hushed voices.

You glance at him with a little smile, before continuing your painstaking process of relighting each candle.

“I'm alright. The lord gives, and like natural order, the lord takes.”

He blinks.

“That's right.”

“What do you think about the Devil?” You ask suddenly, not looking up, simply tilting your head to continue your work.

“What do you mean?” He pries.

“Is he evil? Or is he just the way God made him?”

“He's both.” Billy answers.

You smile, and finally turn to look at him.

“Do you think God loves him?”

“Doesn't the Bible say God loves all his creations?”

You smile wider, nodding. For once, Billy feels like he doesn't have the upper hand in a conversation.

“Are you worried about eternal damnation?” Billy asks, taking a step closer, ready to reassure you that someone as sweet as you couldn't possibly end up in Hell. If you were damned, well that didn't bode well for him.

“I'm not afraid of Hell, I can handle fire.”

Billy watches you raise a hand, and hold it closely over one of the candles. He hisses, grabbing your wrist and pulling it away.

He turns your palm to check for any serious burns, but he'd withdrawn your hand just in time.

“I'm alright, Billy.” You reassure him, leaving your hand in his, and using the other to continue with your previous task.

It's the first time he realises that there is more to you than he'd initially thought. He'd seen you as a pristine painting before, something to be looked at, forbidden to touch, to love from afar. Now? You were an enigma, a puzzle whose pieces were made to be handled, to be solved by the right person.

Billy wanted to be that person.

“-He wants to be here with you, the lord is one with everything, he’s in everything you see, and everything you touch. You just have to close your eyes and let him in.”

From around the corner, Billy listens to you speak, your hands holding the other woman’s, who’d stumbled into the church an hour ago, searching for someone to speak with.

“I’m not worth the forgiveness.” The woman sobs.

Billy is ashamed to admit that the very sound of your voice turns him on. He feels sick, that listening to you speak about the lord makes him hard. If he closes his eyes, he swears you talk about God as if he’s just another person in the room,

“He believes in you. You’re here, you found me, because that’s what he wanted. You found the strength to come in, to open yourself up to being judged just a little, and I know he appreciates that. He loves you, and I do too.”

Later, when the woman leaves, with a promise to be here on Sunday, Billy finds you, shuffling and reorganising reading materials near the altar.

“You’re good at this.” Billy murmurs.

You smile.

“I’m just doing what he commands.”

Jealousy stirs in Billy’s chest.

Before he can stop himself, he’s stepping into your space, you look up at him with wide eyes, as you try to back away.

“You’re so selfless, don’t you know what people say about you?”

You blink in surprise, your body lowering as you descend the stairs, away from the altar and toward the pews.

“It- why should it matter what people say?”

“They call you a temptress, you’re the reason Wade’s burning in Hell. I heard his wife say it herself.”

“That’s not my fault.” You defend.

“It’s not? You’re telling me you have no idea of the effect you have on men?”

You go down another step, he follows.

“I- I don’t- I’m not-”

He feels so large, looming over you, frightening you.

“You don’t?”

“I only want to serve.” You whisper.

“Who?” Billy taunts.

“What?”

“Who do you serve?”

“The Lord.”

The back of your legs bump the wooden pew. Billy watches you gasp.

“And what if I wanted you to serve me?”

He doesn’t let your confused expression last for too long.

Billy acts fast, sitting on the pew, and gripping your hips to drag you onto his lap. He guides your legs over his, spreads his thighs so that you’re forced open too.

You suck in a deep breath, head falling back onto his shoulder. You look up at him, mouth parted, eyebrows drawn together.

“What are you doing?” You ask, your body still on top of his own, he realises that you’re not fighting him like he was worried you would.

He shushes you, gently presses the tips of his fingers right above your knees, takes his time dragging them up.

You reach for his hands, covering them, unsure if you should stop him or not.

“I’m giving you what God can’t.” He simply says, looking up at the altar before them, listening for anyone walking in as he brings a veined hand up to cup your mound.

You let out a little whine, fingers gripping his wrist, unable to pry his hand away.

“This is wrong.” You whisper, tugging at his wrist.

“I’ll make you feel right in a minute.” He answers, moving slowly to push his hands into your panties.

This is what your cunt feels like, is his first thought. Billy bites down on his bottom lip, his fingers feeling over your pussy, exploring, learning, and when he finally dips his hands lower to find you wet, he can’t help chuckling to himself.

The wrongness of your situation turns you on, and Billy uses it like fuel, lights a fire so readily, eager to watch everything burn.

“This is all an act, isn’t it?” He jabs, “You pretend to be so pure but that little cunt is dripping on my fingers.” You shake your head in protest.

He’s gentle when he finally touches your clit.

You gasp, let out a strained moan, trying to fight a losing battle with your body.

He circles his fingers on your little bud, pulls your legs open wider when you try to shut them. He’s slow, he’s careful, he feels you tremble, feels your breaths get faster.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cum already.” He chides, “I’ve only just started.”

A soft cry is your only response.

When the sun is at the right angle, it shines through the stained glass and paints you both in multitudinous colours. He looks down at you, your face is one of mindless pleasure while the hues dance on your trembling skin.

“Look at you,” he murmurs reverently, “sinning in God’s light.”

Your eyes roll back in your head, mouth parting with the start of a loud cry, he slips his free hand over your mouth, muffling the sounds of pleasure you make.

You rock on him, cunt spilling more and more onto his fingers, his mouth begs for a taste.

Your nails dig into his wrist, he welcomes the feeling, delighted to have given you something only he could give.

When he’s sure you’re going to be quiet, he slips his hand from your mouth, and after a few moments, he pulls his hand from your panties.

His fingers go right into his mouth, eyes closing in bliss at your tart taste, he licks his fingers clean, runs his tongue over them one more time to make sure he’s gotten every drop of you.

You look at him with parted lips, caught in your own amazement, coloured light still spilling onto you.

He smiles, pulling your skirt down, closing his legs which close yours.

He pauses when he feels your fingers touch his chin, he looks at you in surprise to find something calm in them. You part your lips, like you’re about to say something, and then you startle when the doors to the church are pushed open.

You slip off his lap, rising to a stand, you smile, welcoming the people coming in.

Billy is waiting in the confessional booth for you to pass by. You’d been so exhausted recently, trying to help the newest preacher get settled, and then someone else had been murdered. A woman working at the bank had been stabbed repeatedly in the face inside the bank vault. Her body had been found on a pile of money.

It was odd, Billy thought he was the only one of his kind in town, to know there was another out there, made him want to look out for you more than ever.

This, was not him looking out for you.

Rather, he was waiting to pull you away, to be your distraction from another funeral, to save you, if he so dared call it that.

He hears footsteps, identifies you from the click of your familiar shoes on the church floors.

He hears the large wooden doors at the front open to allow the coffin in, and while everyone looks in the direction of the doors, he slips out, wraps his hand around your mouth, and pulls you, struggling into the confessional.

You stop fighting when you see him, and he smiles, bolting the doors closed from the inside.

He looms over you, cock hardening in his pants, presses a finger to his lips with a smile.

Your mouth parts, curious about him, and when he presses you back, settling your body onto the wooden bench, you don’t have much choice but to obey.

He watches you, fire in his veins. You look up at him with the sweetest eyes, and he knows he’s ready to defile you right here.

Instead, as the funeral begins, he drops to his knees in front of you, pulling your panties down your legs so that he can worship you with his tongue.

He keeps you right on edge for the entire sermon, licking you slowly, your hands in his hair, your breathing deep and low to avoid attracting attention.

He edges you, echoes the prayers being said outside into your heated core, licks at your sweet bundle of nerves, doesn’t stop for a single second.

When the congregation takes up a gospel in praise, he waits till the voices are at their highest point to let your orgasm take you.

He tastes you greedily, thankful to have ever crossed your path.

He closes his eyes, decidedly not done with you, peeling at your virtue until nothing remains.

He takes you home that night, helps your exhausted form like he did before, hands gripping your waist to support your fumbling steps.

“You need to stop expending all your energy like this.” He chastises, lips in your hair, breathing in your scent.

“I’m fine, I just need to sleep.” You protest.

He guides your key into your door.

“Will you stay again?” You ask hopefully.

“If you want me to. But if someone sees me leaving-”

“I know, they’ll have reason to call me a whore.”

“Don’t say that about yourself.” His voice is maybe too sharp with you.

You let out a little laugh.

“Right. Sorry.”

He gets you up the stairs, feels you take a deep breath as you yawn.

“Help me get out of this dress?”

God, you really were tempting him.

He watches you fall back onto the bed, clad in only your underwear. He finds it impossible to look away, when your body looks so divine.

He gulps, wants to kiss every exposed inch, wants to make you see heaven any way that he can.

You watch him while he watches you, he’s transfixed by you.

“You want to touch me, don’t you?”

He curls his hands into fists.

“I always want to touch you.”

You give him a sleepy grin, arching your back, reaching behind to unclasp your bra.

“Can you bring me a dress from my closet?” You ask softly, and he stiffens to obey.

He pulls the door open, searching through the delicate things suspended from hangers for something for you to sleep in. He finds a sheer dress, smiles as he pulls it from the closet, he glances back at you to find you already asleep, your breasts exposed to the cold air.

He smiles, turns back to close the door, pauses when something shiny catches his eye.

It’s behind the wooden walls of your closet, shining through the slats. Billy’s eyebrows draw together, leaning in to press against the spot, the entire panel of wood shifts, and he realises that the closet has a false back.

He tosses your dress over his shoulder, reaching for either side of the wood, he presses down gently, and the entire thing shifts upward, allowing a space for his fingers to fit in.

He pulls, the piece of wood is heavier than expected, turns, and tucks it against one side of the closet.

What he finds… washes his mind blank of any rational thought.

It’s an altar, but it’s not for God.

There’s an inverted pentagram painted onto the wall in something that Billy, with his years of experience in the matter, knows to be dried blood. On the pentagram, there are photos pinned, polaroids of him that he’d never seen you take, taped to your wall with little hearts scribbled on. There’s other things as well, the dog tags from his bedside drawer, the pocket square he’d thought he’d misplaced after Wade’s funeral. So many little items of his, in this space, and he realises that he has no idea who you are at all.

On the floor, is the pink cardigan soaked in Wade’s blood, half burned from where he’d tossed it into a quick fire in the woods behind the church. Billy kneels, fingers brushing the handle of a knife with a blade embellished with flowers, stained with blood. The skull of a goat, surrounded by black and red candles.

He knows he should be feeling fear, but there’s no ounce of it anywhere in his body. He licks his lips, plucking a photo of himself from the wall, he feels his lips curl up involuntarily.

He stands, turns to wake you, to confront you, and halts when he finds you already behind him.

You look sleepy still, swaying on your feet, body still bare, and before he can say anything, you raise a fist, and blow a strange powder directly into his face.

It stings when it touches his eyes. He groans, drops the photo of himself he was holding, presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and stumbles. His throat tickles, he coughs, body trying to expel whatever you’ve dosed him with. He can’t see, and he reaches for where he knew you were last, only to find formless air.

He tries not to panic, if you wanted to actually hurt him, you would have by now. Perhaps you just didn’t know what his reaction was going to be and you were safeguarding yourself.

He feels the handcuff wrap around his wrist, but he fights it, his eyes sting too much for rational thought.

“I’ll help you if you cooperate.” He hears you say.

He huffs out a breath, extending his cuffed arm for your guidance.

You pull at him, bringing him to your bed, and cuffing both his arms to the frame. His eyes sting when he tries to see through them, his face burns too, like it’s on fire.

The next thing he feels is a cold cloth on his face, and then there’s instant relief.

You place a damp rag over his eyes, and on the lower half of his face, leaving his nose exposed for him to breathe.

“Let it sit for a little, it needs to neutralise the poison.”

Poison? He thinks in shock.

He tries to calm himself, tries to tug on his restraints as little as possible. He tries to run through everything he’d learned in the past few minutes, sort them into his head, solve puzzles he didn’t even know existed.

You were entirely not who he thought you were, not even a little, not even at all.

No, not true, he’d seen it, glimpses of the real you from the very start, too pure, he’d thought, too pure that there must be something wrong.

He should have seen it from the minute you took his hand, from the minute you sat on his lap, when you felt his erection and still flocked to him. Billy should have known. It was in the way you thrived under the attention, the memory of you holding your fingers over the candles in the church. He’d seen it all, and had been unable to put the pieces together.

He hears movement, feels the bed dip as you come closer to him, feels your weight settle on his hips, straddling him.

The rags are pulled from his face, and you use the edge to wipe the remnants of something he can’t see.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to hurt you, but it was this or hitting you over the head with a bat.” You smile down at him, he can still see you there.

You don’t look like a new person, you only look more relaxed in his presence, his eyes drop down to find you wearing the dress he’s picked before he’d discovered your secrets.

“You don’t worship God.” He starts.

You smile.

“No I don’t.”

“But you go to church, you help other people find God.”

“You think that saves them? No one in that church is free of sin, no one is made better by being there, they’re only better at hiding it.”

He blinks, tilts his head, waits for you to continue.

You reach for a box of matches, striking one, you light the candle sitting on your bedside table.

“I go to church, because every time I step in there, I spite God.”

He watches you reach to strike another match, lighting the candle on the other side of the bed.

“My Lord, the only one I pray to, is the Devil himself.”

Billy blinks, tilts his head.

“You tempt everyone there with your innocence on purpose.” He says, thinking out loud.

You make a sound of disagreement.

“Not exactly, I’m just charismatic, and the fruits fall where they fall. My intention isn’t to tempt, it’s not my fault that men are so easily… tempted.”

He raises his eyebrows in amazement at your point.

“Look at Wade for example, I was only as nice to him as I was with everyone else, but he took it another way, I’d finally decided to kill him when he touched my thigh for too long… I was watching him from a small space in the roof when you came in.”

Billy watches, hypnotised as you drag your palm over your stomach, your ass grinding gently against his semi-erect cock.

“I watched you stand behind him, waiting for the right moment.” You whisper, hand slipping under your sheer dress, working its way down the front of your panties. Billy’s teeth clench, pulling at the handcuffs.

“I watched you cut his throat,” You groan, “There was blood everywhere.” Your head tilts back as he watches you touch yourself to the memory of his past crimes.

“You took my cardigan. I knew there was something about you before, but it was only then that I knew I had to have you.”

He watches you, fingers hidden from his view as you pleasure your little cunt. He feels rage at not having any control.

“The woman in the bank,” Billy tries to think with you so close, “That was you.”

You nod, smiling down at him.

“She was a bad person. I wanted to give Satan someone to play with. Just like he gave me you.”

Billy’s hands are in fists, blunt nails pressed to his palm.

“Let me go.” He grits out.

You smile dreamily, shake your head.

“Not yet. I want to have you first.”

His breath halts in his chest, desperate to ask you what you mean, but he thinks your intention is clear enough.

He pulls harder on his restraints, not wanting to be bound the first time he feels you.

“Don't fight it, Billy. Let me have you how I want, and then, maybe we'll see about those cuffs.”

He stops struggling, takes a deep breath, goes still.

You smile, undoing his belt as quickly as you can, and then tugging at the buttons of his shirt until his torso is bared to you.

He listens to you hum with delight, feels your scorching tongue lave at his chest, over his heart, flicking at his nipple.

He begins to understand how feral you are, listening to your hums of appreciation as your tongue drifts over his neck. He realises, that you’re just a small thing, searching for someone exactly like you in a world full of people pretending.

When you open his pants, his mouth goes dry, his jaw drops open as you suck on the tip of his cock for just a small moment, enjoying the taste of him before you’re slipping your panties to the side to take him in.

Billy closes his eyes, swears, low in his throat. You feel better than he’d imagined, your walls fluttering around him, pulling his cock deeper into you so naturally that he swears it was always meant to happen.

You moan loudly, head tossed back.

“I would have let you fuck me in that church.” You confess, “I would have let you fuck me in a pool of Wade’s blood.”

Billy groans.

“I’d fuck you in the bare earth.” He grunts, supporting your conversation, “I’d make you beg me to.”

You clench tightly around him, and Billy swears he sees stars for a moment. Your breasts bounce as you roll your hips on him, and after a moment, you pause, reaching for one of those lit candles beside your bed.

Billy looks at you, keeping your steady gaze, trying to prepare himself for the possibility that you might drop hot wax onto his skin.

But you spare him, instead, you tilt the candle, letting a few drops of molten wax fall onto your thigh.

He feels you tighten, grunts in pleasure at the vigour your pace takes on.

He’s so captivated by your enjoyment of it, that he can’t help but ask.

“Do it to me.” He asks.

You smile, hovering the candle over his chest, and when the first drop hits, he gasps. It stings, burns like fire, but then something sweet fills the space, his body somehow asking for more.

You don’t give him any more though, placing the candle back in its original spot, and beginning to rock your hips in tandem.

You’re struggling to achieve orgasm in this position, and he feels amusement rise within him, knowing more about your own body than you seem to know.

It finally makes him relax, knows that no matter how hard you try, you still need him to get you off.

He waits, and waits, and finds that he can be patient when it comes to pleasuring your cunt.

You pause, pouting.

“Poor little girl,” Billy chides, “Can’t manage to come on her own. You need my help, don’t you?”

Your eyebrows are drawn together When you look down at him, trying to make sense of his words.

“N-no, I can, uh, do it myself.”

He grins sharply, relaxes.

“You’re so out of your depth.” He taunts.

“Nuh uh.” You hum, still trying to use his cock to pleasure yourself. Billy turns his head to study his restraints, the wooden pillar he's cuffed to on the headboard is wobbly, he figures one sharp pull at just the right angle would get that hand loose. The other pillar however, is too sturdy for a move like that.

He has to move fast when he does it, find a way to get you to release his other hand.

But first, a distraction.

“You're beautiful like this,” he says truthfully, “Your true self is so much more than I'd imagined and- well maybe we are right for each other.”

He watches you nod eagerly, still trying to reach your peak, your head tilts back, lulled into a false sense of security.

Billy takes his opportunity to strike.

He pulls as hard as he can on the wooden pillar of the headboard, muscles flexing almost painfully. He almost thinks he's going to fail but right at the last second, the wood gives, freeing the handcuff and allowing movement.

Your eyes fly open, and you reach for something behind you, pulling out a knife.

He catches your hand, twists your wrist so that the knife falls free, and pushes it off the bed.

Before you can scramble off of him, his hand grips your hair harshly.

“Unlock me.” He hisses into your terrified face.

Despite your obvious fear, he still feels you clench around his cock, and his desperation to have you exactly how he wants, increases.

“I'm not going to hurt you.” He clarifies, “But you're mine now, so unlock me.”

Your eyelids flutter, your eyes glancing at a spot beside him. He doesn't turn to look, simply leaning his body with yours, hand still fisted no doubt painfully in your hair.

He looks from the corner of his eye, as you tug the bedside drawer open and stick your hand in.

“You better not be reaching for another knife. It wouldn't take much for me to squeeze the life out of you, even with one hand tied.”

He feels you clench around him again.

“You like that? That I could kill you without a second thought? Your cunt’s gripping me so tight, baby.”

You let out a little whine, withdrawing with just a metal key pressed between your fingers.

“Good girl,” Billy praises, feels even that go right to your cunt, “Now unlock me.”

You do his bound hand first, and then pull the other cuff from around his wrist. Your eyes cling to the reddening bruise on his wrist from pulling too hard.

When he's finally free, he grins, right in your face, before pulling you off his cock and flipping you over.

You gasp in surprise as your back hits the bed, Billy leans away to get a good look at you.

He can see your delectably shaped tits through the white sheer dress, he admires the way it looks- like innocence and somehow pure sin wrapped all in one.

He thinks, for the first time, he finally sees you, finally understands what he has, looking up at him with careful eyes.

“You said something earlier. That the Devil sent me here for you,” he leans forward, cups your breasts through the dress, stiffening your nipples, watches you writhe beautifully under him.

“But I'm not your plaything, little girl,” His fingers pinch down, pressing your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, watching you gasp in pain and pleasure, “You're mine.”

It sets off something inside of him, and like an avalanche, any semblance of self control he'd ever had, just crumbles.

He leans down, lips pressed to yours, he feels an ache inside of him lessen.

You kiss back, with forceful lips, your hands gripping the back of his head, fingers in his hair to stop him from pulling away.

His hands press against your shoulders, feeling their way over the sheer sleeves of the material, gripping your hips, fingers catching on the fabric as he touches your body for the very first time.

Your legs wrap around him, it makes him so delighted, that you want him, that he's going to use that against you.

He pulls back, grinning when you whine, reach for his mouth once more, his hand finding your throat too easily, gripping it to push you back.

“Where did my little fighter go, hmm?” He leans forward to lick your cheek, enjoying the surprised expression on your face.

“Please,” you whisper, “I need you to make me come.”

His nose brushes yours.

“Why? Don't you touch yourself all the time?” He taunts, already knowing your responses before you say them.

“I haven't been able to- since you touched me.”

He laughs, watches you get more and more demure with each moment.

“You haven't been able to come since I put my hands on you? I wonder why?”

“You feel too good.” You confess to him.

He tries to fight it but it makes him laugh again, he buries his face into your neck, amusement so heavy in his body and he has to let it out.

“Sorry, It’s just that- you haven't even seen what I can really do yet.”

“Show me.” You beg.

His hands caress you gently, he nods his head, and then, tears your dress into pieces.

You’re so turned on, aching for him, you shudder as he pulls the remnants of your dress from your skin.

His touch is frantic, his palms skate over your skin, gripping, feeling, your thighs, your legs, your arms, it makes you so much more aroused to be felt like this. No part of your body is safe from his wandering hands, it feels as though he’s trying to learn you, and you are so eager to let him.

His lips are next, kissing the top of your breast, working his way between them, the feel of his lips on your skin makes you feel more connected to him than before. He pulls your panties off in a swift rush, kissing at your knees when he finally gets them off.

“Want to know why my touch feels good? Because I know you. I know what your body likes.” Billy says, you lift your head to look at him, his hand sliding up between your thighs, the tips of his fingers making delicious sparks.

He touches your slit, tracing the seam of your cunt so gently, desperation pooling under your skin. He presses a single finger against you, until he just brushes your clit with the very tip of his finger.

“You need this little bundle here touched, kissed, and it can’t be too harsh.”

You cry out when he just softly strokes your clit. Pleasure burning through you at just the simplest move.

“You think that just because you like pain, that this has to be rough too, but no, your pretty body craves a soft touch.”

He proves it to you, his gentle fingers massage your clit, he makes it look effortless, eyes drawn to your centre, looking up at you with dark eyes every now and then.

It’s the burn of his slow movements that make you lose your mind. The worst part is that he’s right, you’ve never touched yourself so gently before.

“Does that feel good, baby? I’ve killed so many people with these same hands. But I bet that makes your little cunt even wetter.”

You mewl, nodding, remembering the way you’d seen Billy kill. The amount of blood he’d left behind, such a messy crime scene.

You bite down on your bottom lip, back arching, hands gripping your sheets.

Just a little bit more, you think, gasping, quietly urging him on, hoping that he doesn’t stop his movements.

“That’s it,” Billy praises, “Just like that, show me exactly who owns you.”

Your breath stutters in your chest, your vision goes white as pure euphoria overtakes you. It comes in waves, cunt fluttering around nothing, your body shudders as your brain tries to process pleasure beyond your comprehension.

It takes you a moment before you can breathe through it, and like before, it feels like you’re floating, somewhere deep in your subconscious.

His face comes into your line of sight, a proud smile on His lips, beautiful in every way as He hovers above you.

You suck in another breath, it helps you feel your body, and the remnants of your still occurring orgasm.

“The first time I saw you, I couldn’t look away. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes on. I wanted you all to myself. Now that I have you here, now that I see you, I want you forever.”

You nod eagerly, smiling up at him, gripping his hand to press your cheek into his palm. You wanted that, you wanted to be His as well.

“Now be a good girl and stay still.” He whispers, lowering his body once more, burying his face between your thighs for the second time in your life.

You almost want to scream. His tongue pushes its way to your clit, flicking softly, dipping down to lick at your entrance.

You hear Him moan between your thighs, you shudder, arching your hips into his face.

He slaps your thigh, a warning that he intends to uphold the discipline of His instruction, you simply clench in response.

You wanted- so much more than you could admit.

You'd thought, for a brief moment, that he was the personification of Lucifer himself, that Billy was a reward for your years of devotion, but somewhere in the back of your head, you were starting to feel something different, new, that not even your devotion to Satan himself could match.

He licks you like he's starving for it, hands on your thighs, tongue in your cunt you want to struggle just so He has a reason to hold you down.

You say His name, you feel your thighs tremble, His lips kiss at your swollen clit.

You don't know what you're feeling, something in your chest, that tugs everytime he touches you.

Drunk on His mouth, you hiss when his pace increases, unsure if you'll even be able to have another orgasm so close to the last.

He's careful, dexterous, precise, he licks cunt the way he kills- with careless precision, a spectacle to be admired, spoken about in hushed tones.

Billy doesn't ask, he simply manipulates your body until you're wound so tightly on edge once again, unable to comprehend how you got here in the first place.

You groan, your grip on sanity crumbles away, all you can think about is Him, and the way his beard feels, scratching between your thighs, and the darkness of his hair and the grip of his fingers on you, holding you to him, daring you to struggle.

There’s a loud rushing in your head when your next peak finds you, your back bowing off the bed once more, something pinches in protest but you can’t focus on it, the pleasure too important to give up just because you’re a little uncomfortable.

He licks at the arousal spilling from you, moans into your body with each taste, making you see stars, or fireworks or maybe even just flashes of bright lights and colours.

It somehow reminds you of the stained glass of the church, makes you feel adjacent to something that’s on the tip of your tongue but you can’t find the right words for it.

He draws back, beard wet with your slick arousal. It’s gorgeous, and you watch him tug his black shirt off- that he’d worn to the funeral of the woman you’d killed- and use it to dab at his chin.

Your eyes roam down his body, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a man as sculpted as he is, lean and muscular, small bits of hair on his chest and a spot right below his navel that your tongue aches for.

You sit up, looking at him, pressing your thighs together as he pushes his pants all the way down his legs, his cock already solid and leaking for you.

You remember the first time you felt Him, the way you knew without a doubt that you were going to have him, before you even fully understood what he was.

He reaches for you, grips your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. You gasp at his easy display of strength, watching as he strokes himself for a few moments before lining his cock up with your dripping entrance.

Your past orgasms have made you more sensitive, each inch of him he presses in makes you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to breathe through the overwhelming pleasure and the stretch associated.

“You're so tight.” He utters with a strained voice.

You can only moan, reach to touch Him, the light of the candles flickering on his bare skin in the dead of night.

Your fingers graze a circular scar on his lower abdomen, and at the same time, he thrusts the rest of his cock fully into you.

You cry out, the sudden bliss of being stretched, goes right into your head, you gasp, your body begs for more, begs to be undone by him.

You swear you can taste blood in your mouth from biting down on your bottom lip too much, unable to vocalise your appreciation of him, he draws his cock out, before making another harsh thrust.

Your back arches, you don’t feel like you’re in your body, or maybe you feel too much in your body, the only thing you know for sure is the pleasure that fills you, that threatens to swell under your skin and explode outward.

He keeps his motions swift, harsh, deep, following through with each shift of his hips fully before beginning another.

“Who’s your God? Tell me.”

“L-Lucifer.” You utter automatically, but it’s the wrong thing to say. He stops, hands gripping your jaw tightly, bringing all your focus to him.

“What was that?” He grits out.

“Lucifer?” You whisper, voice light with pleasure.

He shakes his head, leaning away and reaching for something nearby.

You tighten around him when you spot the burning candle in his hand.

“Say that again.”

“Um…” You stutter, unsure of what to say.

You gasp in surprise when the first drop of hot wax hits your hip. It stings, just for a moment, before leaving the sweetest tingle in its place.

“Please.” You moan, pressing your hips upward for more of his torment.

“Can Satan do that?” He asks, rutting his cock into you at a slow shallow pace. When you don’t respond, you feel another heated droplet sting the skin of your hip.

You peek at him through parted eyelids, watching the way he looks at you in amusement, before tilting the candle again, this time to allow hot wax to fall onto the opposite side.

“Billy.” You moan, and you watch him grin.

“Answer my question, little dove.”

You shake your head.

“N-no. Satan can’t make me feel like this.” You whisper.

He moves, drips wax onto your thigh, making you gasp in pain, feeling it heighten your euphoria.

“Do you like feeling this way?” He asks, and before he can finish his sentence, you’re nodding, raising your hand to your chest to roll your nipples between your fingers for his appreciation.

“I like it, Billy, I love it.”

“Then tell me who your God is.”

You think you finally understand what he's trying to say, his cock pressed deep inside of you. He's the reason you feel so good, he's been the person occupying most of your thoughts from the day you met. He's someone you'd be willing to kill for.

“You.” You finally answer, and he smiles, moves his hand, still holding the candle, wax dripping onto his fingers, he tilts the candle and lets a few heated droplets touch the skin over your womb.

You gasp, the skin there is a little more sensitive, the burn is more intense, more pain than pleasure but He doesn’t seem to care, simply continues to smile as he blows the candle out, putting it back on your nightstand.

There's still another candle on the other side, allowing you to see, though everything is just a little dimmer now.

Your skin tingles, warm, the dried wax on your skin cracks as you move, but you don't get a chance to focus on it too much, because as soon as Billy lets go of the candle, he's pressing into you with renewed vigour.

Your thighs tremble, tears pool in your eyes, He's rough, grunting with each stroke he makes, earning a reciprocated cry when his cock bottoms out inside of you each time.

Skin against skin, sweat glistens on his chest, you want to taste him.

“Say it again.” He commands, leaning over you to brush his lips to your ear, “Who do you worship?”

“You, Billy.” You respond eagerly, gripping his shoulders, pressing your nails in, listening to him hiss in response, gripping your jaw to bring you into a bruising kiss.

It's messy, his tongue dipping forcefully into your mouth like he owns you, his cock doing the same, taking everything as if it's owed.

You bite down on his bottom lip, hears him grunt out a manic laugh in response.

“You're all fucking mine.” He grits, leaning back and pulling your boneless body up until you're on top of him, his hands gripping your hips to keep you moving on his cock. You tuck your head into his neck, unable to be anything more than a receptacle, to take Him, over and over until he's finished with you.

“How does it feel to be saved by your new God?” He grunts between thrusts.

You can barely find the words to speak.

His hand slaps the flesh of your ass hard, demanding a response.

Cruel, you think, that He wants you to speak, that He thinks you're even capable of thought.

“Feels good.” You hum, fingers gripping his neck, nose to his jaw, taking what he gives, you tears dripping onto his collarbone.

He groans into your ear, it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard and you finally begin to understand true devotion.

“Please,” You beg, “Please.”

He grunts out a chuckle between thrusts.

“You don’t have to beg, I’m here, I’m not leaving.”

You tilt your head up, vision hazy, your body tingling with something too intense to be just bliss.

He kisses you softly one more time before dropping you back onto the bed, pushing your knees upward so that they’re almost to your ears.

He feels so much deeper this time, fucking you hard, merciless thrusts that has your cunt fluttering again, warning you that you’re on the right path to an orgasm.

He doesn’t stop, looking right into your eyes as he pushes his cock into you, over and over and over. You see stars, you see him, you see nothing else.

He licks his thumb, lips wet with saliva, he slips it between your bodies, angles it right against your clit, swipes gently from left to right.

You make a loud sound, followed by a flurry of pitiful whines, trying to warn him, to implore him. He doesn’t stop fucking you.

Your toes curl, one small breath of air before the most intense rush of ecstasy takes root in your body. You’re lost in the rapture, taken by the experience to even register the sounds you make.

You feel fire, you feel sparks, tingles that rush all over your skin, your inner walls gripping him so tightly as you’re forced to experience bliss at His hands.

He groans loudly, and before you know it he’s fucking into you rougher than before only for a moment before he makes a sharp sound of relief, cock pulsing as he spills himself into you.

You clench around him, making sure he gives you every drop of himself. Knowing that this is the right way to show your devotion.

There’s a moment of insecurity, when he crashes to the bed beside you, eyes closed, his breathing is quick, as if he’s just run for miles. You worry that once he’s had his fill of you, that he won’t be interested any more.

Your head is turned to look at him, lungs still heaving, the bliss of your orgasm hasn’t left you completely yet, and you watch him, curious to observe what he does next.

He peeks an eye open, mouth pulling into a smile that bares his teeth, he pushes himself up, crawls closer till he’s in the space between your body and arm, kissing at your cheek and shoulders softly.

It opens something inside of you, to feel that, to know without a doubt that He meant every word He said.

You raise your hand in wonder, fingers gently brushing His cheek, before pressing your palm to His face.

He looks down at you, moves his own hand to run the backs of his fingers against your face, two people, finally seeing each other, finally showing themselves, unafraid.

It’s more than you could have ever hoped for.

Billy stands in the shadows, waiting.

He watches his targets leave the bar, two men, laughing with each other as they head to the nearby bus stop.

He follows, observing the way they move, trying to figure out just exactly how drunk they are. One wears a leather jacket, with his hair slicked back, the other wears a plain white t-shirt, and jeans.

They talk loudly, confessing to things Billy already knows about.

When one of them looks up, and sharply elbows the other, nodding to a place ahead, Billy knows what they see.

You lean against the bus stop, face buried in your phone, too occupied with it to notice that you’ve been spotted.

You’re beautiful, Billy muses, white dress, denim jacket, a little purse hanging from your elbow, standing under a small streetlight. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

The man in the leather jacket gets to you first, looking over your shoulder, peering into your phone looking at what you’re doing for a moment before saying something to you.

He watches you startle, look up at both men as they approach.

It’s like a dance, the way your fright gives them confidence, the manner in which you step back, warning them that you’re going to run before you actually do.

He smiles as you slip from their reaching grip, running into the nearest alley, he watches them take chase.

He moves faster, making sure there’s no chance of putting you in any real danger.

When he gets there, they’ve got you cornered, your back against a wall with them closing in. They’re too focused on you to ever notice him.

He takes a breath, waits for a moment, enjoys the thrill of what he’s about to feel.

When one of the men reaches to put his grimy hands on you, Billy strikes.

The man in the leather jacket makes a gurgling sound as his throat is cut wide open, splashing mostly on himself, but some of it gets on your dress and he knows he’ll get on his knees later to apologise for getting your dress messy, even though he knows you like it.

The other man can only make a single sound of terror before he’s falling to the floor, mouth agape as the handle of a knife protrudes from his eye.

He’s still alive, though not for long as Billy watches you drop to one knee, pulling the knife from his skull to plunge it into his vocal cords next.

You look up at him, with bright eyes, excited to be doing this with him. He bites down on his bottom lip, thinks you look adorable when you’re seeking his approval.

He doesn’t care if the men are in their last moments, he reaches for you, grips the collar of your jacket and hauls you up, manoeuvring you until your back is pressed against the wall of the alley.

He drops his head, angles to place a fierce kiss on your lips, smearing blood on your face when he grips your jaw.

Billy pulls away, breathless, heart hammering with the thrill of murder, he looks into your eyes, and finds himself looking back.

He’s not surprised- simply acknowledging to himself that it’s what he’s been seeing the entire time, what he couldn’t put a name to when you first met, he now knows.

“And the lord said ‘Thou shalt have no other gods before me.’”

It makes you look up, to meet Billy’s eyes.

You watch the corner of His mouth twitch in amusement.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #my writings #billy russo smut #dark!billy russo #serial killer!Billy Russo #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #just overall bad #everyone is evil #there is not a redeemable character in sight #Forget 'I can fix him'#reader just said 'watch me make him worse'

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dreamcatcher92 · 7 months

Text

Coercion Chapter One

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.

It’s been eight days since Cassidy’s kidnapping. She is being kept in a tiny room with just a stained twin sized mattress and an old bucket. The door to her room is like the rest of the girls’ doors. They all are metal doors with small windows and metal bars.

The other girls had been there much longer than she had and the stories they told her were like those from a horror movie. They explained to her that this was some sort of trafficking ring, and men from all over came there to buy some of the girls. That’s why they were constantly bringing in what the men called “new inventory.” Girls were made to do several different things, and if they disobeyed or messed something up, they were punished.

When men come in to make their purchases, they are shown the polaroid photographs of each girl and can choose whoever they want to see. Then, the girls are brought into a big room where they are lined up and inspected by the buyer. Whoever isn’t chosen is taken back to their rooms, while the ones being sold are whisked off somewhere else.

Screaming and yelling can be heard off and on all day and night. Cassidy had been chosen a couple times to mop the floors of different rooms and to pass out lunch and dinner to the other girls. Whenever Cassidy was taken from her room to do a job, one of the men who stood guard would follow her and watch her every move. She learned through hearing him talking to some of the other guys that his name is Simon. Cassidy was petrified and did everything that she was told to do to not get hurt, or worse.

A few days ago, one of the girls named Madison slapped a guest that had come to make a purchase. During his inspection, the man was touching each girl anywhere he pleased. Madison hadn’t been there much longer than Cassidy, so when the man began touching her, she got very uncomfortable and angry. When the man cupped one of Madison’s breasts, she smacked him across the face. Immediately, she knew that she had messed up and began apologizing profusely.

Madison was separated from the others being looked at, and once he was finished, the men were told to bring all the girls into the big warehouse room. Standing in the center was the man who Cassidy believed to be in charge. The other six men standing around seemed to do whatever this guy told them to do. She overheard Simon and another guy talking one day about this man while she was mopping floors. They said his name is Vinny. He didn’t sound like a very pleasant person to be around from the conversation they were having about him.

Madison was then brought back into the room and told to stand in front of the line of girls. She was crying and pleading for forgiveness and another chance. However, the girls were about to witness what happens if you piss off Vinny or embarrass him in front of a client.

“Ladies, let this be a warning for you all. I don’t fuck around when it comes to my business. I was made to look like a fool in front of one of my clients today by this little bitch right here. If any of you try what this whore did, this is what is going to happen.” Vinny said in a stern and harsh voice as he turned and looked at Simon. “Go ahead Simon.”

Simon walked over to Madison who was crying and didn’t dare move from where she stood out of sheer terror. She looked at the girls and was barely able to open her mouth to say something before a bullet was put into her skull. She fell to the ground, dead.

Some of the girls screamed and were crying, while others were in such shock that they couldn’t move or make a sound. Cassidy stood and watched the blood pool around Madison’s head. She didn't know what to think or do. Di-did that just happen? Holy shit. I have to get out of here. Moments later, the girls were forcibly led out of the room and back to their bedrooms.

Once everyone was locked in, Jacob, the man that Cassidy hears Simon talking to the most, yelled down the long hallway, “There will be no food for anyone tonight! You can thank the slut for that one. Lights out!”

Cassidy leaned back against her door and slid her way down to the floor. She began to cry. How could someone just kill another person like that? He showed no sort of emotions after he shot Madison. In fact, thinking back, Cassidy thought she remembered seeing Simon smirk down at Madison’s dead body.

“I said lights out!” Jacob yelled, only now he was standing right outside of Cassidy’s door.

She jumped to her feet and quickly switched the light off. The last thing she wanted to do right now was piss these guys off any more than they already were. She then took a few steps away from the door.

She heard his large footsteps go down the hall and she let out a deep sigh of relief. She walked over to her tattered mattress and laid down on her back. She would look up at the ceiling every night and imagine herself lying on a beach. The waves crashing on the shore, seagulls flying overhead, she sometimes thought she could even smell the saltwater in the air. She always stayed in her dreamland until she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Cassidy jolted awake when her door swung open and hit the wall. Simon walked in and she instantly felt her heart sink. Her immediate thought was if she had done something wrong. Was this about not turning her lights off when she was told the first time?

“Get up!” Simon yelled.

Cassidy sprang to her feet and began to shake in fear. She could hear other girls being rounded up as well down the hall. She then thought that maybe this was going to be something else like last night. Simon grabbed her arm and forced her down the hall, up a small set of stairs, and back into the warehouse room.

“Move it!” men yelled to the girls as they filed in and were placed in a small line-up.

“What’s going on?” Cassidy shakingly whispered to the girl on her right.

“Shut up!” a man yelled.

Cassidy stood up straight when he yelled, and tears filled her eyes. She had no idea what was happening, but she was glad that she wasn’t alone. Four other girls, Sienna, Tessa, Heidi, and Macie were there as well. They all stood and trembled in fear while they waited for what was to come next. Breathe Cass, breathe.

Suddenly, a door opened and in walked Vinny and another man who was very well dressed. He wore a black suit and tie with freshly shined black oxford shoes. His hair was combed back neatly, and he kept a serious look on his face.

“Ladies, this is a new and very wealthy client of mine, Mr. Russo. I expect all of you to be on your best behavior. We don’t want another mishap like last night, do we?” Vinny said as he chuckled and looked at Mr. Russo who was not at all amused.

“Let’s just get this done.” Mr. Russo said, sounding annoyed as he stepped towards Sienna who was at one end of the line.

He looked her up and down, then moved onto the next, and so forth. When he got to Cassidy, she was looking at the floor and too scared to look up. He lifted her head by placing his index finger under her chin and pushing up. Time seemed to slow and Cassidy felt like she was going to puke from her nerves.

She was now looking into his dark eyes. As he looked at her, she felt like he was staring straight into her soul with how intensely he was looking at her. After a few moments, Mr. Russo turned around and walked back over to Vinny.

“The one at the end.” Mr. Russo said.

“Sienna?” Vinny asked as he pointed in her direction.

“No, her.” Mr. Russo snapped and pointed.

Cassidy glanced over and realized he was pointing straight at her. Her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. She couldn’t move. She was terrified. Me?! No no no no no no, please God no.

“Luke, Eli, take the others back. Simon, take the young lady to prep her for departure. Mr. Russo, if you’ll come with me, we can finalize everything and get you two on your way.” Vinny said with an uncomfortably big smile on his face.

Simon grabbed Cassidy’s wrist and took her through a different door than the one she had come through earlier. They walked down a short hallway, through another door, and into a bathroom. Cassidy was so confused as to what was going on and what she was supposed to do. All she knew was she was frightened and wished that she could run away from all of this.

Simon shoved Cassidy further into the bathroom, “Get cleaned up and put the clothes on that’s over there.”

Get cleaned up? How? There’s no shower, just a disgusting toilet and a grungy sink. She looked over and saw a yellow dress hanging on the wall. On the floor beside the sink was a washcloth, towel, and a bar of soap. All of which were clearly used.

“You’ve got ten minutes, so you better fucking hurry.” Simon yelled as he slammed the door shut.

Cassidy undressed quickly and tossed her ripped up nightgown, dirty underwear, and bra aside on the floor. She washed the best that she possibly could with the resources she had. After drying off, she walked over to get dressed. She grabbed the dress off the hook and was startled by a loud sudden noise behind her.

The door swung open, and Cassidy gasped as she used the sundress to cover her naked body. Simon walked in and shut the door behind him. He started making his way toward her. He had an animalistic look in his eyes.

“I-I’m almost done. I’m hurrying, I promise.” she said nervously.

Simon grabbed the dress, yanked it from her hands, and tossed it aside. He grabbed her by the hips and shoved her backwards onto the concrete wall. She frantically tried pushing him off her, but he was too strong.

“What are you doing?! Get off me!” she yelled.

“You’re not leaving here until I get a piece of that ass of yours.” Simon said as he spun her around to face the wall.

Cassidy screamed, “Stop it! Let go of me! Please, stop it!”

Simon shoved her face against the wall and started undoing his pants, “Shut the fuck up! You know you want this, you dirty little whore.”

She fought him as hard as she could, but he easily overpowered her. Suddenly, the door swings open. Vinny and Mr. Russo could hear the commotion and intervened just in time. Mr. Russo grabbed Simon and jerked him backwards. He turned Simon around and punched him so hard that with just one punch, Simon was on the ground out cold.

Mr. Russo then turned to Cassidy. She was huddled into the fetal position against the wall. She wanted to disappear. She just wanted all of this to stop.

Mr. Russo grabbed the dress off the floor and handed it to Cassidy, “Put this on.”

She sniffled and got back onto her feet, “Y-yes, sir.”

After slipping the cotton garment over her head, the pair pushed their way past Vinny, who was apologizing abundantly to Mr. Russo, and made their way down the hall. They made it to the garage where his black sports car was parked. Cassidy was tensed up as Mr. Russo forcefully guided her along with one hand on her back. They walked up to the vehicle and she took a deep breath.

He opened the passenger door and said in a firm voice, “Get in.”

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo smut #the punisher #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes smut #billy russo fanfic #fanfic #smut #smut fanfiction #dark!billy russo #dark billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x reader #billy russo fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic writing

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lambtotheslaughterr · 10 months

Text

COMING SOON

Currently in the middle of writing the Lloyd Hansen mini series The Agenda Today, & will soon be posting another Rafe Camerin mini series When The Bough Breaks. That being said though, I always have a constantly evolving WiP list. So, without further ado, here is a glimpse at a Universe series I will begin posting once TAT & WTBB finish.

Let me know what you think!

[ALL OF THE FOLLOWING WILL INCLUDE THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. 18+. READ AT YOUR DISCRETION. MDNFI.]

THE DAY THE WORLD ENDED : AN APOCALYPTIC UNIVERSE

featuring Rafe Cameron, Ransom Drysdale, & Billy Russo

PART ONE : THE BEGINNING w/ Rafe Cameron

1.] RISE - Having finished her third year of college, reader & her friends are excited for an early summer camping trip deep in the woods. However, little do they know, the world they left will never again be the world they return to...

PART TWO : THE MIDST w/ Ransome Drysdale

2.] SUMMIT - Having been raised under a doomsday prepper her whole life, reader is fit for a vastly disintegrated world. It's been a year since the last time she saw another human, & the next one that crosses her path will test her survival skills...

PART THREE : THE CLOSING w/ Billy Russo

3.] FALL - Five years since the world ended. Five years since reader has become the reluctant leader of survivors in the city. Five years, mostly everything has run smoothly. That is until an opposing force wants to take over the world reader has built so carefully...

This is going to be my first Universe wide series. I imagine each part will be 10-20 chapters. There is not set release date until I finish my current Lloyd Hansen & Rafe Cameron mini series.

Until then, talk to me. Are you looking forward to the apocalyptic universe? Which part are most intrigued by? I want to know.

beau<3

#rafe cameron x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #billy russo x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!ransom drysdale #dark!billy russo #the day the world ended universe #coming soon #rafe cameron #ransom drysdale #billy russo #outer banks fanfiction #knives out fanfiction #the punisher fanfiction #dark!fics #non con fic

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marvelmusing · 2 years

Text

In the Dark

Part 3

Pairing: Dark Elf!Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Summary: 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.

Warnings [18+]: smut, fingering, oral (male receiving), praise kink kinda, mention of somnophilia, discussion of non-human sexual activities, dirty talk, switch!Billy, switch!reader

A/N: this was going to be a slow burn series but everyone’s comments on the last one convinced me to make this pure smut - so you’re welcome

Part 1 • Part 2

My Masterlist

Billy loves watching you sleep. You sleep even heavier after drinking so much the night before. He watches your face shift slightly, a sweet, contented look on your face. It makes him want to kiss you again. He can’t stop thinking about the feeling of your lips against his, and the sound of you pleading for him to touch you.

He closes his eyes in an attempt at sleep, he only needs a few hours and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable before allowing himself to drift off.

Billy wakes when he feels you shift beside him, a small noise caught in the back of your throat. His eyes flutter open, and he watches you squirm lightly in your sleep.

Half of your face is pressed into the pillow, and you’re lying on your front. The covers have slid down your body, revealing every inch of you aside from your legs. Luckily Billy had managed to help you get changed into some night clothes last night. If you slept bare Billy doesn’t think he would be able to help himself.

He’s about to pull the covers back over your body when his name falls from your lips in an airy sigh. He freezes, his heart pounding. Were you dreaming about him?

He watches with rapt interest as your hips begin to rock against the mattress. That can’t be giving you much satisfaction. Billy is aching to push your panties aside and give you some relief. You sleep so heavily compared to him, he’s certain you wouldn’t even wake.

He bites down hard on his lip as he imagines how good you would feel waking up after he made you cum in your sleep. That sweet look of confusion in your eyes when your thighs are damp with sweat, and your panties are soaked.

Meanwhile, you’re having a very good dream.

Your face is pressed against the pillow, back arched, with Billy’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Your bent knees brush lightly against the sheets as Billy holds you up as if you weigh nothing, his strong muscles tense as he keeps you in place.

A broken moan falls from your lips as his cock fills you up, stretching you out perfectly. His lips trail up and down your spine, leaving kisses and bites over your flushed skin.

“Does that feel good, treasure?”

Your voice is hoarse as you gasp and nod,

“Yes, yes Billy, please.”

“That’s it, my pretty little wife.” You choke on a moan, tightening around his cock. “Right where you belong.”

His other hand pins the back of your neck, and your back arches even further into his touch, which pushes him deeper inside you.

“You want me to cum inside you, don’t you, little treasure? Want me to fill that tight little pussy with my cum.”

Your head is turned to one side, and out of the corner of your vision you can see Billy rocking into you which makes your moans increase. He bends over you, his breathing ragged against your ear as he whispers,

“You want to make your husband a daddy?” His words throw you into complete bliss, you’re a mess of sensations, the only thing you can focus on is his words. “Come on treasure, let’s make a baby.”

Billy can see when you wake up. You’re not facing him anymore, and he sees you press your hand over your face - most likely berating yourself for dreaming of him.

After a long moment of spiralling thoughts, you roll over to face Billy, finding his dark eyes already open and looking at you.

Your eyes are wide, almost startled to see him. He watches as your gaze drops to his bare chest before looking away hurriedly. He grins softly at your flustered state as you close your eyes, burying your face into your pillow as you mumble,

“Morning.”

You can hear the amusement in his voice when he responds,

“Good morning, little human. How’re you feeling?”

Empty and needy for you, you think to yourself, but you can’t voice that. He laughs at the pout on your lips as you turn to face him properly, and you feel relieved that he isn’t pushing you for an answer.

“I didn’t do anything stupid did I?”

“That depends.” You frown and he laughs softly before he recalls, “You explained in detail how you think you could take the Sovereignia in a fight.”

“Oh God.” You drop your face into your hands, before slumping face first onto the pillow. “Please tell me we had left the palace at that point.”

He nods.

“We were back home by then.”

You try to hide your smile at his words - and the thought of being at home with him.

Billy doesn’t mention the reason why you had wanted to fight the Sovereignia, though he remembers you telling him all about it. That you hated how she looked at him and spoke about him, because he’s yours.

“Do you need anything?” he asks softly, and the question might be innocent but the only responses you can think of are far from innocent.

You shake your head, your eyes closed.

“No,” you answer in a quiet voice.

“No?” he repeats, sliding closer to you to drape an arm around your waist. You bite your lip, and Billy can see the conflict on your face. “You don’t need anything?”

You shake your head and he hums in thought, not believing you for a second. He pulls you closer, until you can feel his body against yours, and you force yourself not to whine with need.

“You know you can ask for anything you want,” he says softly, his lips brushing delicately against the skin of your throat.

He looks up at you, his head tilted aside.

“Do you remember last night?” he asks, and you bite your lip as you hesitate. You do remember last night, but he’s currently giving you an out. You nod your head, and he grins. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No,” you say softly.

His nails aren’t long, but at the right angle they’re sharp. He traces a line down your spine with his finger, tilting his nail to catch against your skin, and he’s shocked at the needy whine that escapes your throat. His eyes darken to near pitch black, and he grins.

“Does my little treasure like some pain with her pleasure?”

You’re far too distracted by his hands to respond, and he smooths his palm over the soft plush of your ass cheek. His fingers dig lightly into the skin, before he tilts his fingers, dragging his nails to draw out another whine from your lips.

“Answer me.”

You nod hurriedly, closing your eyes again as you plead,

“Yes, oh yes Billy please.”

A smirk plays over his lips as he continues to torment you,

“I told you before. I won’t do anything unless you ask for it.”

You sigh in frustration.

“Please Billy.”

His smirk widens at your increasing desperation, as he continues to tease,

“Just ask.”

After a small whimper, you manage to plead,

“Please touch me, kiss me. I need you.”

“Atta girl,” he encourages you, before claiming your lips with his own.

He pushes you onto your back, and he leans over you, slotting himself between your open thighs. You’re gasping for breath when he pulls away. His elbows rest either side of you, caging your body beneath him as he admires you.

“In all honesty, I don’t know exactly what the differences are between Dark Elves and humans,” he says, his dark eyes still trailing up and down your body.

His tongue darts out, licking over his lips, and your eyes follow the motion with a small shiver.

“What do you mean?”

The corner of his lips quirks.

“I mean,” he starts, as his hands squeeze gently at your breasts, drawing a soft moan from you. “These are sensitive for you, aren’t they?”

You nod your head as he continues to knead his hands over you.

“Dark Elf women prefer to skip the foreplay,” he tells you. “They just need something long and hard to cum around and then they’re done.”

You lift your head up from the pillow with a frown.

“You mean you don’t finish?” you ask, rather breathlessly.

He rolls his shoulder lightly, looking down at where his fingers are splayed over your stomach.

“Not always.”

You blink a few times before you say,

“No offence, but Dark Elf women sound awful.”

He laughs, his eyes flickering up to yours.

“They’re not all bad. Just not always focused on mutual pleasure.”

You stare hard at him for a long moment.

“Do you trust me?” you ask, and he nods slowly.

Taking his hand in yours, you slide them both under your panties. His eyes widen slightly at your unexpected move, but his gaze is fixed on your face.

With two of your own fingers, you part your folds, and you find your pussy is already wet from the dream earlier, and having Billy’s body so close to yours. You take one of his fingers and trace it over your entrance to ensure that his digit is coated before you slide it inside you.

His finger is long, and much thicker than your own. Billy’s mouth parts as he feels your pussy walls clench around his finger. He leans closer to moan softly in your ear.

“So warm, and tight.”

There’s surprise in his voice, along with his own excitement. You tilt your head back in pleasure as his finger slides further inside you.

He moans again at the thought of being inside you, before gasping out,

“Once you’re on my cock you’ll ruin me, little treasure.”

You guide his hand, and rock your hips against his finger as he begins to move in and out of you. It doesn’t take him long to find a rhythm you enjoy.

“You know,” he starts, almost conversationally. “Dark Elves have a pleasure point inside them, it should be somewhere around…” He alternates the angle of his finger, and you cry out when he finds your sweet spot. He grins at your reaction. “Here. Is that it, treasure?”

You nod hurriedly and he repeats his motion, hitting the most sensitive areas with every thrust into you.

“You know,” you say with a gasp. “That humans have a pleasure point on the outside too?”

He tilts his head aside, his eyes almost impossibly dark as he orders,

“Show me.”

He doesn’t slow the pace of his hand, whilst you take his other hand, trailing it down your body.

Taking his finger between yours again, you ensure that it’s covered in slick before you slide it up to your clit. You gasp, and clench down on his finger as he traces over your clit delicately.

“This little nub right here?” he asks, rubbing small circles over it, smirking with a raised brow, though from your reaction he can tell he’s found it. Your toes curl in pleasure as he increases the pressure of his finger on your clit.

“Yes Billy. Right there.” You moan softly, before whispering in a broken voice, “Feels so good.”

Billy dips his head down to trail his lips along your neck. He’s in awe at how soft your skin feels against his lips, as he sucks bruising marks for everyone to see that you’re his as much as he is yours.

He noses the neckline of your nightdress down slightly, pressing kisses over the exposed skin your breast, before sinking his teeth lightly into the soft flesh. A cry falls from your lips, and you buck your hips into his hand. He lifts his head back up to watch your face.

“Dark Elf women aren’t very vocal either,” he remarks, and your cheeks warm with embarrassment. You bite down on your lip, squeezing your eyes closed to concentrate on staying quiet.

Billy’s lips meet yours, and you can’t help but moan against his mouth. He sucks on your lower lip, keeping it away from your teeth.

“I didn’t say stop. I wanna hear how good my little treasure feels with my fingers on her pussy.”

“Fuck, Billy.”

You moan at his words, and he’s in awe of how tightly your pussy is gripping his finger. He grins at your response to his words, and with the increasing number of your moans he’s certain you’re close.

“Come on sweet thing, cum around my fingers. Show me who they belong to.”

With a startled cry, you climax, clenching hard around Billy’s finger. He continues his motions, wringing every ounce of pleasure out of you.

Once he pulls his finger out of you, your own fingers curl around his wrist, bring his digits to your lips. There’s not a spark of light in Billy’s eyes as he watches you suck your release from his skin.

When you’re done you move forwards, seeking his lips. The kiss is all tongue and teeth as Billy licks his way into your mouth, moaning at the taste of your cum in your mouth. You’re both gasping when he pulls away from you.

“Little treasure, you are absolutely filthy.”

There’s a wicked grin on your face at his remark, as you attempt to catch your breath.

“I’m guessing no one’s ever gone down on you.”

His eyes widen, a light blush coating his cheeks as he shakes his head. A smirk tugs at your lips, as you trace your hand down his body until you cup his bulge.

“You mean no one’s ever had this sweet, hard cock in their mouth?”

He shakes his head again, nearly whining at the thought of your lips around his cock. You breathe out a small laugh as you smile up at him.

Then, you’re hooking a leg around his waist and Billy’s back is hitting the mattress. His eyes widen, staring up at you as your own eyes twinkle in amusement.

He’s a Lieutenant of the Stygian Army - one of the fiercest group of warriors on this plain of the existence. And you’ve just managed to catch him unawares and pin him beneath you.

His shock soon dissolves as your lips meet his skin, your mouth worshipping every inch in your vicinity. You mark up his neck, pressing bruising kisses and sucking hard against his skin.

You lick your tongue over his collarbones, nuzzling your nose against every scar you find. You kiss your way down his chest, feeling each of his breaths before more and more ragged under your touch.

Once you reach the line of his underwear, Billy actually whimpers. From your position, face so close to where he needs you, you grin up at Billy before remarking teasingly,

“If you want something, all you need to do is ask.”

He gapes down at you for a moment, and you snap the waistband against his skin. He growls some words you don’t understand, his mind reverting to his native tongue as he grits his teeth. Then he grinds out,

“Take them off, treasure. Please.”

You hook your fingers under the waistband.

His own fingers grasp onto the sheets beneath him, his nails digging hard into the fabric as you press a kiss to the tip of his cock. A shiver runs through you at the sound of his whimper.

“You’re so big Billy,” you muse quietly.

He throws his head back, and you admire the length of his body stretched out before you. Blooming marks and scratches over his skin, though you know you’re in a similar state as him. You lick a long stripe down his leaking cock, and his entire body trembles as you murmur,

“Honestly a crime that no one’s ever had a taste of this cock.”

You’re surprised at his restraint. A few muscles in his abdomen twitch, and the sheets clutched in his fists strain as they tear slowly, fibre by fibre.

Billy is embarrassingly wet, and harder than he’s ever been in his life. He’ll make you pay for reducing him to such a mess.

He’s thinking of fucking you against the bedroom window for the entire city to see how you struggle to take his cock. Having you sit on his cock, keeping it warm during his next council meeting. He’ll make sure you wear nothing under a short skirt, allowing your arousal to drip down your thighs all day long as he teases you.

These thoughts don’t help him push away his impending orgasm. Neither does having your mouth move over his cock so eagerly. You kiss and suck over it, his arousal coating your lips. Then you take his tip into your mouth, sucking on it hard. He cries out, and you begin to take more of him between your lips.

As you begin to bob your head up and down, Billy groans softly, and he clenches his jaw hard. He’s holding back. You pull your mouth away to plead,

“Please cum for me Billy. Want to taste you, feel you in my throat.” He groans loudly, looking down at you with wild eyes as you take him slowly.

“In?” he asks with a gasp. Yes, he’d dreamed of cumming in your mouth, but he hadn’t thought that you would actually want it. You pull off again, nodding,

“Absolutely.”

Billy’s hand grasps tightly into your hair, and his hips jerk to meet every slow thrust of your lips around him. Your tongue traces against his throbbing underside and Billy edges towards his climax.

He’s moaning and gasping under your touch, tightening his hold on your hair which makes you moan.

“Fuck,” he swears. “Sweet- oh, dulcis mater tenebris es perfectus.”

At hearing his native tongue yet again, you double your efforts. His nails dig into your scalp, and he cums hard in your mouth. You milk every drop of his cum, eyes rolling back at the feeling of him filling up your mouth.

Sweat beads over Billy’s skin as his muscles finally relax. Once his cock has softened, you pull him out of your mouth. He groans softly, and you leave a trail of kisses up his chest to soothe him. Billy wraps his arms around your body, holding you on top of him.

You nuzzle against his chest, licking a trail of sweat that’s gathered by his collarbone. He stares down at you as you hum at the salty taste.

He breathes out an exhausted laugh, before bending down to kiss your lips. He kisses your nose, and forehead, and you do the same to him. His gaze softens when you kiss tenderly over his scars, and his eyes soon flutter closed in content.

“How long have you wanted to do that?” you ask quietly, your voice muffled slightly against his neck.

“Since the moment I saw you.”

“Really?”

“Soon as I saw you in that cave. Bruised, out cold, and helpless - knew I had to protect you.” There’s a pause before he adds, “I’ve never felt that before, never cared about anyone but myself. I’ve hurt so many people, and enjoyed it. But one look at you, and I couldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

He meets your eyes carefully. He finds it easy to read your body, he knows your behaviours by heart already. But sometimes he struggles with what’s behind your eyes. There’s a tiny smile on your face, but your eyes look uncertain. As if you can’t really believe what he’s saying.

“What about you?” he asks with a teasing smile, nudging you gently. “When did you realise you wanted this?”

You pause for a moment, your eyes becoming unfocused as you cast your mind back.

“My second morning,” you admit, biting down on your lip. Billy tilts his head watching your reaction with confusion. Then he remembers.

You had spent your first day here trying to avoid him. Billy had ensured you were fed and slept well, and by the end of the first day you were more certain that he didn’t wish you any harm.

The two of you had breakfast together on the second morning. He had told you about his library, and wanted to show you it. So, as he requested, you had waited in his room for him to provide you with a tour. Only for him to step out of his bathroom with only a small towel hung low around his waist.

You still remember how brightly your cheeks had burnt, and how Billy’s chuckle had made you shiver.

“You mean we coulda been doing this all week long?” he teases, and you press your face further into the crook of his neck. You feel his chest shake as he chuckles, running his hand down your spine.

You lift your head from his shoulder, looking over at his smile. He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Bath?” he suggests.

You nod with a smile.

»»---------------------►

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years

Text

"Ring around the rose" - Mafia!Billy Russo x Reader x Yandere!Matt Murdock

[TW: mafia themes + yandere trope/obsessive behavior + arranged marriage + explicit language]

Continuation of: [War of the Roses]

Summary: Being the daughter of a mob boss came with various difficulties and limits, like not being able to choose your own husband. Things get a little more complicated when a certain lawyer interested in your fiance intervenes.

WORDS: 3,853

TAG LIST: @originalwitchsworld @voidsunflower14 @restingbitchsblog

The first flowers came roughly six months after your initial meeting with Matthew Murdock. What was odd about them, aside from the fact that no note was ever attached, was that not all of them were fresh - each bouquet came with a few plastic flowers but they were made in such impeccable fashion you could never tell them apart. Only when the water in the vase started to turn murky green and the fresh flowers began to visibly wilt, could you see which ones were greatly unaffected by the passing of time. In a way, it was a fairly horrifying process to witness - nature's offsprings were slowly dying, fulfilling their duty in the cycle of life, while their synthetic sisters prevailed, watching the wilting with triumph and never horror. The artificial flowers, perhaps, never knew that they were vastly different from the fresh ones and so they celebrated their victory over death herself unjustly, for she never once raised her hand at them, although she has always held them in contempt. And how much the plastic flowers held human affection in disregard! No matter how much love or hate they were given, artificial petals and leaves lived on. Fresh flowers didn't have such might - despite human affections, or lack thereof, they were bound to die in seven days' time. Perhaps, most of their beauty lay in that short lifespan.

"You seem to enjoy them," Billy stated once. Despite amusement showing on his face, there was, without a doubt, an irate tone in his voice.

"The only flowers I've ever been given were from sleazy men twice my age or in a funeral wreath. Whatever madman it is now, I'm planning to enjoy the sweet bliss of ignorance while it lasts," you answered. "Speaking of ignorance, how's the warehouse by the docks? I run into Wyatt's boys the other day at the bar, they were talking about upping security."

"I really don't think it's any of your business," he answered indifferently while going through a pile of documents. Most of them looked to be invoices and billing history. Truthfully, he wasn't in the wrong - it was his name written in the real estate register.

"If that shithole scrapyard is even 1% of my livelihood, it is my damn business. We're getting married next month, William Russo. Better get used to me being a lot more than a Hollywood wife."

"You've got some nerve, you know that?" he said finally looking up from the documents.

Billy wasn't keen on admitting that but your intrinsic toughness was growing on him quite quickly. He felt a little easier about his life knowing that the woman he was going to become, by the rules of the demimonde, responsible for, was doing quite well on her own. Any reputation you had and were going to have, partially would become fame of his own as your husband. He knew you well enough to know, without a doubt, that any of your reputations he was going to be held accountable by the fine company of criminals and politicians couldn't be short of impeccable.

Another thing that Billy seemed unlikely to admit before anyone except for God, was the pleasure he got from your assertiveness. In most cases, any form of being challenged only infuriated him, feeling his irate ego clawing at his ribcage with vengeance. You, however, have awakened an unfamiliar excitement inside him - Billy liked the fact that you weren't blandly easy-going as many women tended to be around attractive, rich men. With you by his side, it felt more like gaining a competent associate, rather than decoration, as women were commonly regarded in this line of work.

Lately, he's been spending more time thinking of you. The wedding was approaching and so it shouldn't be of much surprise - there was still so much to do! But Billy's thoughts rarely revolved around the white dress and finger foods. Even if they did, once in a while, their tone swiftly became more unsavoury. As of late, his imagination commonly strolled to admiring your beauty, although he was unwilling to acknowledge that. The rhythm of Billy's heart, however, cared very little for his stubbornness.

"That's why I'm still alive and kicking."

"Warehouse is doin' fine. Nothing to worry about. You should be more worried about your secret admirer but he's not so secret, is he?" No matter how much he tried to cover it, the jealous venom dripped from his words. It was a poison he'd often tasted lately, although its flavour was still largely unfamiliar on his tongue.

"You think it's that lawyer?" you asked. Billy continued watching you without answering. "Could be..." you whispered to yourself. It wasn't out of the realm of possibilities that he was a foreman - leading an organized group responsible for the ongoing flux Billy's business had been suffering. "But other than that he's vanished off the face of Earth. I asked around and everyone says the same thing: leaves for work at 8AM, comes back at 8PM. Every goddamn day."

"That drowns us deeper in shit," he said with anger and run his hand through his hair. Billy hadn't been sleeping well for the past two weeks or so. The bad streak his business had been going through started to rub off on your father too, who became less convinced about the marriage as days went by. "If it's not him jerking his cock, then we've got another player and to make this shit worse, we have no idea who it might be."

You furrowed your eyebrows and studied your fiance's face. To you, it was beyond obvious who was responsible for the bad streak. Only two people in the world had made vivid threats against Billy in the last year - the rest of the demimonde seemed smart enough to keep their appetite for conquers down as the news of a new alliance made their rounds through the crowd.

"Daredevil bleeds and stumbles," you stated. The decisiveness in your voice left no doubt that you weren't discussing a possibility but stating a natural fact. "A fight can tire him, gangrene can eat his body. All that means he's just a man and men, as it usually so happens, have names, mothers and bedrooms."

A mischievous, inexplicable smile crept unto Billy's face. It stayed there, confusing you for the few seconds he was remaining silent before answering you:

"I take it you gonna find all of them."

Ever since that first bouquet of flowers arrived at your doorstep, Billy's behaviour had been changing gradually but he remained in denial over it. Sometimes you wondered whether that observation wasn't just your imagination, somewhere in your girlish heart wishing for your husband-to-be to show any interest in you, even if there was no love between you. After inquiring about his strange behaviour a few times, you stopped asking Billy what was the matter and simply allowed him to be whatever way he really was. Maybe he really was changing as a person but, perhaps, you had assigned quite the wrong source to the said strangeness. His business was, after all, steadily losing its profits and, as it was mentioned before, the said economic flux planted a seed of doubt in your father. From the sides, it could look as though William Russo for a moment had the key to a more than comfortable future and, due to reasons outside of his reach, that key slipped through his fingers.

"Bed 'im then shoot 'im... Sounds quite vintage, I admit. Is it more of a Cabernet or Margaux situation?"

Billy only chuckled at your humorous remark and went back to reading whatever documents he had brought home. It was quite rare that he would bring work into the privacy of domesticity but considering his, to put it lightly, misfortune of the past months, the unending workload seemed quite understandable.

You stood in the kitchen, looking into the living room where Billy was sitting and admired the bouquet. He was right - you were enjoying the gifts, although you had no proof as to who could be the culprit. Maybe that made the whole mystery ever so sweeter. If the sender had a name, the flowers would be tainted with their presence, their faults and quirks. For now, the beautiful carnations, lilies, pansies and tulips were whatever your imagination made them be; you coloured that unspoken love in whatever colours you desired.

Thirty days went by quickly and you found yourself wearing your wedding dress sooner than what you were prepared for. You stared at yourself in the decorative mirror, admiring the lightweight frill of the expensive dress. The reflection of the villa's lounge looked even emptier than it really was, with rustic furniture and Italian construction. It would have reminded you of the mansion by Lake Como your father owned if it wasn't so heavy in its loneliness and emptiness. Beyond those beige walls and wooden doors lay a future one can't quite prepare for beforehand. You found some comfort in thinking about your parents - they, too, were a marriage arranged by their own parents and as far you could tell, life had fallen into place for them, surprisingly finding genuine love where there was none before. Hopefully, it's going to be the same for you and Billy.

The door opened with a quiet click of the lock but their swing did not resound with a creek. You recognized your father in the loud echo of his steps; your whole life he's been wearing dress shoes with wooden soles. He claimed that the bright sounds of footsteps they produced forced some kind of dominance over other people in the room. Considering his success in both shady and legal businesses, there might be some truth to it.

"You look beautiful," he stated. There was a strange and uncharacteristic heaviness in his voice as if he was delivering news no one wanted to hear.

Still looking in the mirror, you caught his sombre gaze. His face as well as eyes were reddish, bravely suggesting that a man of his reputation was capable of shedding tears. You could only wonder how he was going to keep a straight face while walking you down the aisle. He had a single white lily pinned to his suit jacket.

"I'm nervous," you confessed. The man sighed and came closer to you, placing his heavy hand on your shoulder. You took notice of the brazen signet on his small finger. One day, perhaps, it will be your husband wearing that piece of jewellery. God only knows how many lives were ended just to keep that ring on your father's hand...

"I know," he answered in a low voice. His rough hand reassuringly caressed your arm. "But you're a Saint, dear. And that means only God can judge you."

"And only Devil can kill me," you finished.

Those words always brought comfort to you but in the respect of the last seven months - their meaning underwent a bizarre change, suddenly foretelling a completely different menace that ought to haunt you.

A group of men of different ages was currently occupying Billy and for a quite good reason - a fleur-de-lis. It was a moment of grand importance when your father pinned a french lily in your now husband's suit jacket, publicly making him a part of East Coast's most notorious clan. By the look of those gents' faces, it was clear they envied him such honour. That small purple pin was capable of opening doors one always thought of as sealed shut. Even more: opening paths that very few people knew even existed.

You just wanted to steal a few minutes of Billy's glory, simply to talk to him. The reception was in its full bloom, guests celebrating among each other even when the newlyweds weren't present. Among said guests, however, you noticed a figure most familiar to you and yet greatly unexpected. He was standing a good few meters away from Billy and the jealous business partners, perfectly blending in the mob of celebrating people. It felt almost like fate, that the next time he chose to meet you was on your own wedding day. Considering the beautiful flowers, you should have expected exactly that.

"Matthew Murdock," you called out to him. The man turned around, never showing a sign of surprise as if he had been expecting you to finally find him among the guests. That same polite and yet self-assured grin was dancing across his lips. To a degree, that exact smile perfectly described the impression he created. "I don't remember inviting you."

"I assumed the invitation got lost in the mail," he answered sheepishly as if there was an ounce of honesty in those words. The lawyer looked exactly the same way he did those seven months ago, except now there was a faint bruise on one of his cheekbones.

"You're a lunatic for coming here, like an antelope strolling into the lions' den."

Swiftly you looked over your shoulder at Billy, who was still preoccupied with the words of glory envious men fed him on a spoon. You knew that if he was to see Matthew Murdock, a row was going to take place and it truly was the last thing you wanted at your own wedding. Looking at the guests, everyone seemed too busy having a good time to pay attention to the uninvited guest. Uninvited... How did he enter the reception if he had no invitation? The guest list was checked a few times during the night. It seemed that the self-proclaimed beacon of righteousness was more of a troublemaker than he wanted to appear.

"And yet none of them have tried to eat me. Interesting, don't you think?"

Sometimes you still thought about that day you entered his office, wondering if life would have been different had he taken that pin. In some way, you really did wish he had.

"That's why we call ourselves The Saints. We don't shoot first. Especially on weddings and funerals."

"I find it hard to believe in the mafia's moral code."

Matt's words elicited a chuckle from you. It did sound quite ludicrous, to claim that organized crime came with a guide or a rulebook - a quite common misconception. You were wondering whether he was too lost in his self-righteousness to realize just how not different your world was from him. Although, maybe it was for the better? Who could tell what spiral of madness he'd fall into upon arriving at such a conclusion?

"I wouldn't use the word 'moral'. It's more of... game rules if you will."

Once more during your conversation, you took a quick glance at Billy to see what was going on. It felt wrong to do something behind his back - especially something that might have to do with his spoiling business. On the other hand, there was a sensation akin to thrill inside you, having intrigues of your own. Maybe if you don't let Billy open this can of worms, you might get to the bottom of the strange ordeal.

"Speaking of games." Matt brought your attention back to him - right where it was supposed to be. "Rumour has it your husband's business is not doing so well."

For a moment you studied his pleased expression in silence. You were left disillusioned that Matthew knew you had connected the dots but still the two of you walked in circles around each other, pretending that the secret is anything but open.

"Should I be thanking you for such a turn of events?" you feigned obliviousness.

"I'm a lawyer, Mrs. Russo." The title sounded most strange on his tongue as if pronouncing those two words one after another burned his tongue. A cold shiver run down your spine - it was going to take some time to get used to the new state of affairs. "I trust law and justice, not deception and meddling."

But you found it hard to believe that he was convinced he can throw you off his scent. Although, could it truly be called 'deception' if he had announced his will beforehand?

"And yet I have reasons to question your professional integrity."

Matt was about to entertain you with yet another half-truth or a deflecting statement when three consecutive gunshots resounded throughout the garden behind the Italian mansion. A warning.

Soon after you noticed some men pulling rifles from inside their jackets - they clearly had been carrying them hanging over their shoulders throughout the day, waiting for those three fateful shots. Without thinking much, trusting your muscle memory and instincts, you pushed down the table and hid behind it. The piece of furniture shook and moved slightly with each bullet lodged into it. You were sitting next to Matt, the size of the table forcing you to be squeezed against each other. His rough, scarred hand gently brushed against yours but you thought it was just an accident. But has anything ever been accidental with that man?

"I thought there are 'game rules'."

"New York's having a war, mister Murdock," you informed absentmindedly. There was no other explanation for the criminal faux pas you were now part of. You leaned towards the side, trying to see beyond the table but quickly retreated as a bullet nearly penetrated your skull. "And I'm not dying on my wedding day."

Having grabbed Matt's forearm, you run through the ruined villa and gardens. Champagne mixed with blood and icing on the granite floor. You had to be exceptionally careful for your stilettos to not get caught on the garments or limbs of bodies carpeting the floor. The flying bullets only added sophistication to the otherwise gory scenery. This isn't how it was supposed to be.

You were swearing under your nose throughout the escape until you found a car. Each flying bullet made you wince slightly - it wasn't something one can simply get used to. Even when your hand left his forearm, to his utmost displeasure, Matt was following you, himself disinterested in dying young. His muscles were tense and his thoughts resembled a furious hurricane but not only because of the firing rifles. You were married to an undeserving man and on your wedding day, a mob war broke out. It wasn't the life you deserved, no, he kept on reminding himself just how wrong this bizarre ordeal was. Matthew's jaw was clenched tight enough to shave his teeth into mere dust. How awful those inhuman creatures must have been to dare raise their hand over your head? No prayer could ever redeem them and at that moment, when you were breaking into a car while wearing your wedding dress, he promised God himself that those barbaric dogs were never even going to have a chance to do so. Then again his heart returned to its sombre, woeful rhythm, playing a melody of heartbreak against his ribcage - you were the most exquisite bride and yet you weren't his.

"Get in the car," you ordered. Your sharp words pulled Matt back into reality, although he did his best to cover his moment of wandering thoughts. A smirk appeared on his face but he got inside without a comment.

"Running from your wedding with a strange man," he spoke while you were busy hot wiring a car. "And grand theft auto. Never expected that of you, Mrs. Russo."

"What can I say, I'm not exactly an excellent wife."

Matthew did not trust your judgement. At most, maybe you simply didn't know just how excellent you were. It pained him to know that you were going to spend the rest of your life by the side of a man who probably couldn't see past your surname and pedigree. But Matt was familiar with promises of forever - he knew quite well how much they do not hold up. He made a promise to God that this time, too, things weren't going to end any differently.

The screech of tires attracted some attention and soon the two of you were bending down to duck from the bullets. To Matt, it was most endearing that you could be both a polite, soft-spoken young lady and a character taken straight from a blockbuster. Despite that, he absolutely hated the fact that you were so confident and swift in your movements, clearly showing that this wasn't the first time you were escaping gunfire in a stolen car. She deserves better, he thought to himself. Ever since that banquet seven months ago, that one sentence occupied most of his waking thoughts.

The drive back to the heart of New York City took about an hour, even if you were breaking several traffic laws on top of speeding. Neither of you dared, or maybe wanted to, talk. The sun had set already and for a moment you felt as if Big Apple and yourself had quite a lot in common - it never slept and you, as it seemed, could never get a moment of peace.

Out of courtesy, you pulled over at the corner of the street where Matt had his office. It felt completely strange to drop off someone who was meddling with your life and not necessarily in a good way. At the same time, you were sure there was a lot more to him as if the Matthew Murdock you knew was but murky water, hiding treasures and curses below its unclear surface. It was Pandora's box you were eager to place your hands on.

"Before you go, I have to ask something." You stopped Matt when he opened the car door on the passenger's side. He remained still, happily awaiting your inquiry - beyond pleased with himself that he had managed to pique your interest. "Why the plastic flowers?"

"You're not going to ask why I sent them in the first place?" he answered. That self-assured smile once again crept unto his face and you felt your heart involuntarily skip a beat, already expecting a curious half-truth or something akin to a verbal scuffle.

"People send flowers for various reasons, none of them interesting. But a bouquet of both fresh and fake flowers - that's something I haven't seen before."

Matt stayed silent for a moment, thinking as if. Perhaps, he was simply basking in the silent intimacy of sitting inside the car. You didn't notice it but it was fairly obvious that he really didn't want to leave you. Despite fighting for opposite teams, the said silence did not feel awkward or hostile. It felt, in a weirdly specific way, the same as going home after a first date with someone - the quietness of two people who don't know each other very well, if at all, but crave to.

"They stay after everything else is gone," he answered finally and left the car, shutting the door behind him.

You watched him disappear behind a building, thinking about his oddly profound explanation. Although he never said that, you felt his words weren't only in regards to flowers.

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