Hi, I'm Chelsea, and my current muse is Billy Russo from Netflix's The Punisher series. Enjoy this masterlist I put together just for you. I love you all. ❤ Please remember to read my warnings.
* = smut
Eddie Munson Masterlist
The Agony of Desire Masterlist
🌙 Werewolf Billy Masterlist 🌙
Monster!Billy Masterlist 🎃
Drabble Masterlist
Ours is Not to Reason Why (On Hiatus)
Part 1* / Part 2* / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5* / Part 6*
Mr. & Mrs. Russo
(No correct order to read them in)
Whiskey Kisses*
A Fire of Devotion*
What Kind of Man Part 1
What Kind of Man Part 2*
Where The Heart Is
Billy & his best friend
Undisclosed Desires*
Devil's Advocate*
Give Me Your Trust*
Wicked And Divine*
Movement*
Dark! Billy Russo
In The Shadow Of Your Heart Masterlist
Accidentally on Purpose Masterlist
No Other Gods
Taste of a Poisoned Paradise
Part 1*
Part 2*
Part 3*
Fractured (drabble)
Bring Me To My Knees
Part 1*
Part 2*
Part 3*
Stand Alone fics:
Thinking of you*
Thinking of me*
Innocent reader and Billy*
Billy with a cat (drabble)
Now Our Tongues Are Tied *
Soft Breath, Beating Heart*
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8
Warnings: Dub-con, canon-typical violence, mentions of injuries and blood, intentional use of sex pollen, smut (18+), bondage (f and m), anal plug, oral (f), spanking, semi-public sex, obsessive thoughts and behaviour. (These warnings carry across to all parts!)
Summary: You're a reincarnation of the goddess of spring and you ask your friend, Billy Russo for some help with a mission. Billy's had a crush on you for a long while, but he's insecure about his new scars and doesn't think he's worthy of you. He's given a once in a lifetime chance on the mission, and he'd be a fool not to take it.
Hi hi!! I adore your work!! You’re so talented 💕 I wanted to ask if you are still continuing An Alter for our sins with demonic Billy? I fell in love with it ❤️🔥
Helloooooooo my love
Thank you thank you 🩷
Yes I am still working on it 😁 but it's soo lore heavy at the moment that my ass is being proper kicked.
I can tell you what I came up with so far about purgatory? I've been trying to design a realm that basically aims to equalize everything, and any kind of extreme isn't welcome.
“I can still fucking smell him on you. You know that?” His hand cups the back of your head, tilting it so he can press his nose to your neck.
You didn’t need to ask who. Figuring it must be Danny he was scenting on you with his super secret heightened sense of smell.
“Then hold your breath.” You snark.
He makes a soft growl, his fist closing in your hair, pulling so deliciously taut that tingles go down your spine, causing your eyelids to flutter and your nipples to stiffen in your work blouse.
Warnings: Work shenanigans, anxiety, angst, jealousy, possessiveness.
A/N: I feel like I say this a lot but Jesus Christ I am having the roughest time. Like... my dog's sick, and work is fucking insane and trying to balance life is an absolute nightmare. Being alive is making me mad right now. Send help.
Anyways, here's Teeth.
Danny hovers over your shoulder like a bug you desperately want to swat.
Surely HR would understand it if you just gave him one swift smack with the server’s operator manuals on the desk nearby.
He’s just… too close.
It’s scrambling your thinking, you can’t read properly when his breath is dusting your shoulder. Seriously, who stands so close?
He’d only been here half a month now, he’d supplied that information too eagerly to you on his way up. He was like a puppy, with his shaggy brown hair and glasses, shifting behind you to see better and asking questions while you were trying to do your checks.
Questions were okay, you didn’t mind answering questions- except it was hard to read the results of your diagnostic checks and answer his million questions.
“Why did you decide to become a consultant?” Danny asks.
Jesus Christ.
When you part your lips to politely answer him, an error pops up. One or more nodes not responding.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Uh,” You hedge, leaning in to reboot the system in hopes that it fixes the problem. In the time that it takes to reboot, you scrape together a polite answer for Danny.
“Honestly, I didn’t think consultancy was a logical path because my old boss made it out to be a nepotistic boy’s club. Maybe his way of holding me in that role. It worked for a while, but Mister Russo just made me an offer I’d have been too stupid to refuse.” Not to mention he’s hot as sin and his cum is still leaking out of me, you think to yourself with a small smile.
When the system reboots, the error is still present. You let out a soft breath of annoyance, opening up the error logs to search for any hints as to what might be causing the issue.
“Why don’t we just reboot everything again?” Danny asks.
Thankfully you’re facing the computer screen so he doesn’t see your right eye twitch. You glance at the operator’s manual longingly for a moment.
“Maybe if the error was related to synchronisation that might work. But I suspect there’s a corrupted file somewhere causing this. Servers don’t usually like unexpected power losses. Maybe we shouldn’t have a single button that-”
Your fingers freeze on the keyboard.
Something strange washes down your spine, an ache in your throat as if you’ve swallowed a handful of nails.
Wrong.
Danny keeps talking.
You can’t hear him properly, his voice muffled under the ringing that has started in your head.
You try to swallow.
Standing suddenly, you glance from the computer to Danny, unable to explain why you suddenly feel like your insides, your soul, your very essence is no longer in the room with you, having left your body without warning.
“I have to… do something,” You rush out inexplicably, “Run the diagnostic again, I’ll-” Turning, you run out the door.
.
The feeling is so unfamiliar that it shocks you. It’s like an instinct you’d long forgotten about, coming to life and demanding your compliance. You don’t know where you’re going, just letting your feet take you as though your head has rescinded control to something buried deeper.
It takes you through the halls, to the elevator, your hand hovering over the numbers, trying to discern with unfamiliar senses where to go.
Your heart begins slamming in your chest, pulses of warm blood racing through your head, the distinct feeling of running out of time overwhelms you.
Which floor? What was going on? You close your eyes and jab without thought.
Top floor.
Billy.
Yes, that was it, you had to find Billy.
This wasn’t like the anxiety attack you’d had before, this was strange, the urge to see him- to soothe him- almost swallows you.
Your finger jabs the button again and again, as though pressing it more times will move the elevator faster. You can hear your own breathing, feel the shallow squeezes of your heart, but something else is in control.
The doors pull open slowly, you squeeze yourself through the first gap you can.
You know where you’re going now, your thoughts in your head have aligned somewhat with the movement of your body until you’re pressing against his office door.
“Billy?”
He turns as though he’s been caught. You draw in deep breaths, eyes scanning the room for threats. Your eyes roam the room, finding nothing, before something catches your eye.
In the corner of the room, on one of his couches, is the scarf you’d lost a week ago.
It’s not the scarf that’s strange, but the items around that seem odd- a broken phone- not just broken- crushed- as though squeezed under an object while lying on its side. A torn shirt, that makes you approach curiously. Ripped right down the middle, splashes of mud all over it.
Then, another piece of dark, ripped fabric, curiously, you reach for it. It’s stiff, crusty, flakes of mud settling on your palm as you pick it up. Except that… mud doesn’t usually smell so metallic.
Gasping, you drop the fabric, stepping back, wiping your hands against your pants automatically. You realise where you’d seen it before. They’d shown you pictures of the mangled serial killer after your near death escape, anything to help jog your memory of the events.
The fabric… had once been a part of his shirt.
Your hands can’t seem to feel clean, as you wipe them repeatedly.
“What is this?” You turn your head to look in Billy’s direction, his face is calm, his eyes making a slow assessment of you as you feel like you’re going a little crazy, “What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing.” He says, the clicking of his desk drawer as it slides shut. You hadn’t realised it was open in the first place.
“This isn’t nothing.” You swallow, turning your head back to the little pile of items.
“That’s my scarf- and the torn shirt is from-” Your throat tightens before you can say the words.
“Why are they here?” You turn to look at Billy, his eyes seem to plead with you to stop, but you don’t want to, you want answers, “Why?”
And the phone, you turn back to look at the phone. Was this his?
You stared at the items, and stared and stared and the pieces wouldn’t fit, they didn’t make sense.
Did the stalker leave these items during the power outage? Why?
Your fingers trace over the torn shirt. Ripped, as though torn from the body in a sudden haste, or maybe shredded under claws-
Your breath shudders out.
The crushed phone was indented weirdly, curled in, one side held a wider surface area of damage than the other, you could almost imagine it, held in someone’s hand and squeezed.
Not someone. A predator.
You straightened, turning to look at Billy once more.
He looked back at you, stoic, like the man you’d met all those months ago was here once again.
You waited, and waited, and hoped he’d explain, but when a minute had passed in tense silence between you, the realisation came that you would not be hearing an explanation.
Your throat ached, your heart tore.
You would have believed him. You would have understood. You would have kept it a secret.
He didn’t trust you.
Without a word, you turn, and walk out the door.
.
The silence that echoes through his head is short lived.
The beast roars in his head, so loudly that he squeezes his eyes shut and tightens his fists. Unconsciously, he takes a step forward as if to chase you, stopping himself short.
Angry.
The predator rages at him. Billy feels his teeth elongate, his eyes shift, pushing at him to find you, to confess to you, to kneel at your feet and beg for your forgiveness.
To claim-
A sharp, guttural breath leaves his chest.
He reaches for his phone, and calls Madani.
She answers on the third ring. Neither of them speaks.
“Anvil. Now.” Is all Billy can find the control to say through gritted teeth. He can barely hear himself think over the angry roaring of the panther in his head.
He ends the call, gripping his table tightly as he tries to think.
Fuck, he should have locked the building down. He’d have to call security.
He’d been so busy hiding the more… revealing evidence in his desk that the thought had slipped him.
Worse- he was still warring with himself to go after you.
The look on your face had crushed him. How could he have done that to you? Why didn’t he say anything?
You were in enough danger already, without him adding confirmation of shapeshifters into the mix. The thought of what could happen to you if hunters got their hands on you was enough to momentarily silence the beast.
They would capture you, torture you, try to turn you against him, and if they couldn’t- they’d kill you.
Which was… a best case scenario.
He couldn’t think about worst case- not without the memories of his past being dredged up, the shouts of shifters reverberating in his head as they’re killed by their brainwashed mates. The agony of betrayal in the sound of their screams, begging their loves to remember them.
Putting her deeper into harm’s way wasn’t an option.
The day is almost over when Dinah arrives. He asks Sergei to make sure you get home safely before he finds himself being dragged into a game of endless possibilities with the Homeland agent.
Sitting at his desk, all the evidence laid out before him as the sun sets behind him. He tilts his head, watching Dinah scan the items, leaning in to pick up the black scrap of fabric you’d handled earlier, sniffing at it.
“It’s a warning.” Billy says, stating the obvious.
Madani hums, “It’s more than that.”
His eyebrow twitches curiously.
“This person has collected a lot of evidence about you. They know the places you’ve been, they know what you are-” She picks up what looks like a large petri dish, holding a cutting of mud that contains one of his perfectly preserved paw prints, “They’ve cleaned up after you. They want you to know that.”
She examines the paw print, leaning in to take a tentative sniff.
“All I can smell is you. Even that tells me something. This isn’t just a warning, this is… obsession.”
He turns away, sifting through his head for anyone that might be willing to go to these lengths.
Unfortunately, the list is long.
Combing through security footage is longer still.
Billy paces behind Dinah as she sits and scrolls through the screens.
“How can there be nothing?” He asks for a second time.
Dinah is no doubt tired of him, her annoyance growing in every breath she takes.
“There are no freezes, or splices in the footage, no inconsistencies in the hallway movements. Everyone on your floor is accounted for.”
Billy pauses his steps, “What if they came in from another floor?”
Dinah itches at the corner of her eye, “Like through a vent? Do you have a vent that would fit a human?”
“No,” He drawls, “But-” He turns to face her swiftly, “Maybe we’re not looking for a human.”
“Shifter?” Dinah utters in disbelief, the quick clicking of the mouse as she scrolls, “As in, a wereferret pulling a bag of werepanther evidence through the vents?”
Billy makes a face.
“Are wereferrets real?” He asks.
Dinah chuckles.
“You tell me, you might have one running through your vents obsessed with you.”
He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“I’ll make the shifters on my team do a sweep. If there’s anything there- they’ll find it.”
Madani nods absentmindedly.
“I’ll take a copy of the footage, and keep sweeping. There has to be something.”
Billy agrees.
.
It’s almost ten p.m. when they step into the garage. Billy’s heading to his car, and Dinah’s isn’t parked too far away.
“Someone should check in on…” Billy says, refraining from speaking Frank’s name, always trying to keep his best friend safe.
She knows what he means though.
“I’ll reach out within the week and let you know.”
“Thanks.”
He pauses when he sees another car in the parking lot. Sure, the building isn’t empty, but this is the car Sergei should have used to take you home hours ago.
Shit. When was the last time he’d checked his phone?
There’s a message from you, telling him that you’re working late- part of his system isn’t communicating- that you sent Sergei home and that you’ll grab a taxi.
He lets out a swift curse.
Dinah lifts an eyebrow curiously.
Something wrong?” She asks.
“It’s fine, I just forgot something inside. I’ll talk to you later.” He says, turning to walk back the way he came.
He finds Sergei standing outside the server room with a bored expression on his face. The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement, that you thought you could have dismissed his bodyguard after he’d received orders to make sure you got home safely.
“Go home, Sergei.” Billy murmurs as he pulls open the door.
He doesn’t wait to see if the man acknowledges his command.
Your scent is sweet in the air, a little tart around the edges. He can even smell himself, still lingering on your skin and that makes the predator purr in delight. He feels himself stir in his trousers, the thought of being here alone with you stirs something wicked inside of him.
His smile drops when he smells another, and then his mood sinks even further when your laughter rings out.
Who the fuck is making his girl laugh?
He rounds the corner, and stops, catching your side profile.
There you are, with your hair pulled back, a little messy, as though you could care less about righting it. That soft, pretty way you look, your eyes rimmed red with exhaustion and still a smile on your face as you glance over at-
Fucking Danny.
The beast growls.
You shiver, and he watches you tug something tighter around you. He swears he feels his teeth crack under the strain of his anger.
Who's fucking jacket were you wearing?
And why the fuck was that man so close to you?
He raises a hand, and raps loudly on the nearby steel doorframe. Two heads swivel in his direction.
“Mister Russo.” You say, rising.
Mister Russo?
Mister Russo?
Forget his fucking nickname, he was going to condition that tight cunt to get wet every time you called him Mister Fucking Russo since you insisted on saying it so goddamned much.
After today, he was going to teach you the very hard way, what his fucking name was.
He feels the predator wrap tightly around his thoughts, influencing his demeanour. Billy draws in a deep breath, glancing at the monitor while he gets himself in check.
“A little late, isn’t it?”
You make a small hum, looking back at the monitor as well.
“Yes. I had to reload the software-” You spare a look at Danny, “-twice, and then the backups I made are being restored now.”
His eyes fall on the man’s jacket wrapped around you as you talk. The predator urges him to rip the jacket off of you and strangle Danny with it.
“Hmm.” he intonates softly.
You turn back to him with wide eyes.
“Can I speak with you outside?” Billy asks, moving aside to allow you to pass, not really giving you the option of saying no.
He scents your spike of interest in the air as you nod easily, looking back at Danny for a second and giving him instructions in case the backup finishes loading before you get back.
When you walk past him, he catches your scent, mixed in with Danny’s, and his canines elongate in his mouth. He tosses Danny a murderous look before he turns to follow you out.
.
You lean your shoulder against the wall outside, waiting patiently for Billy. You let out a slow sigh, squeezing your eyes closed for a moment before reopening them.
Damn, you really should have tried harder to fall asleep last night.
You hear the door click shut and you raise your head, fighting a yawn.
“If this is about overtime-”
Your body is pressed squarely into the wall and his mouth is on yours before you can even finish your sentence.
Fuuuuck.
His kiss is harsh, almost punishing. Difficult to keep up with and hard to comprehend with your tired brain.
But you love every second of it.
Your hands lift, pressing to his shoulders and a low growl leaves him, as he reaches up to grip your wrists, pinning them beside your head.
You suck in a breath of surprise, but he doesn’t relent, slipping a leg between your own as you feel your stance buckle slightly.
“B- Billy.” You murmur into his mouth.
He makes a sound of defiance, releasing one wrist to grab a fistful of the hair on the back of your head.
You whine, hips gliding unconsciously over his thigh, searching for friction.
His hand grips your hair tighter, a small sound of bliss and surprise leaves you.
His mouth finds your neck, kissing and worrying the skin, sharp teeth nipping as he moves to that sweet spot between your neck and shoulder. You sigh, tilting your head eagerly, nipples pebbling at the hungry way he mouths at you. He pushes the jacket off your shoulders and you let it drop to the floor eagerly.
His mouth is gone from you almost instantly.
You’re so confused for a moment, the absence of him causing your head to spin as you press your body to the wall behind.
Eyes zeroing in on him, standing across from you, wiping at your gloss clinging to the corner of his mouth.
You watch, as he slowly tugs his jacket off, your eyes eating up the way he looks in his shirt, the muscles of his arms flexing, barely contained. A slow breath of awareness as he approaches.
“What-” You start to say, but you’re interrupted by him turning you to face the wall, and the next thing you know, he’s tugging his jacket onto your body like you’re just an oversized doll.
Fuck, your brain is essentially scrambled right now, thrown off-kilter by his confusing mannerisms.
He pulls the jacket to your shoulders before turning you to face him. His hands smooth over the lapels, studying them with a careful eye.
His thumb strokes your racing pulse point on your throat gently. You find yourself swallowing under the intensity of his gaze, his eyes tracing the movement.
You feel his thumb, press into your throat more firmly.
“You should be more careful about whose things you wear. You wouldn’t want to… put someone in danger.”
It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to figure out what exactly he means.
You part your lips to say something, to defend the guy you'd warmed to just a little while working with him. Yes, you still wanted to smack him over the head with the Operator’s Manual, but in a slightly less homicidal way.
“You know I'm going to have to swear him to secrecy now, right? If I walk back in there with your jacket-”
His hand moves to secure itself around your throat. Not even squeezing, just holding you there in a way that tells you he's trying his best to be nice.
You fight a smile.
“Don't care.” He utters gruffly, “You're mine.”
Now when he says it like that, with his dark eyes on you, promising every wicked thing you've ever fantasized about, it makes you feel just a little bit crazy with how much you want him.
You nod in understanding, and he lets out a soft sigh.
“I'll wait for you in the car.” He murmurs, placing one last lingering kiss to your cheek, before he steps away.
.
“Hey,” Danny says when you step back into the room, his eyes still fixed on the monitor, “Upload just finished and I'm just rebooting like you said.”
You let out a soft sigh, “Okay, cool.”
“Everything alright with Russo?” He asks, finally turning to face you. You watch his eyes drop to the jacket on your shoulder which is distinctly not his.
“Oh… right.”
You give him an apologetic smile, stepping in to take your seat, passing him his jacket.
You can't figure out what to say, your chest sort of aches with the thought that Danny now thinks less of you because you’re wearing your boss’ jacket. Correction- that you took his offered item of clothing off when you were cold to wear Billy’s.
That he now thought you maybe seduced your way into this position, that you weren’t actually good at your job.
Fuck, why did you care so much?
Dumb question obviously, you literally built your career from scratch with your bare hands, of course you’d be sensitive to people questioning your credibility.
“So,” Danny finally says, in his attempt to split some of the tension in the room, “You and Russo?”
“Y-yeah.” You whisper softly, “It’s… new.”
“That’s cool.” Danny’s tone is casual.
You turn to study him.
“Please don’t tell anyone. I know most of the team sort of hates that I’m here, and I don’t want to give them another reason to.”
He nods, deep in thought, the curls in his hair bouncing as he looks at the screen in front of him.
“I won’t say a word. Trust me, the last person I want to piss off is you.”
You cock your head to the side, not expecting that response.
“Me?”
“Yeah,” He laughs, “You’re the person that caused some guy’s computer to explode from miles away without him even knowing.”
I hope she didn’t completely forget what happened in Billy’s office. I know he just wants to protect her but the truth will inevitably come out and delaying that will only hurt worse! 😫 This was another amazing chapter! My love for this story only continues to grow and I can’t wait to see where it goes next!! 🥰🥰
Warnings: Anxiety, work drama, public sex, unprotected sex, zero prep.
A/N: Please love me still thanks bye
Everything is fine.
I am definitely not scared.
You gather the sheets around you, bunching it up as you bring your knees to your chest.
Nothing is wrong, it’s just in your head, it’s all in your head.
It was safe to say your first night back in your apartment wasn’t going well.
You’d been too insistent, too believable, smiling and reassuring Billy that you would be okay, that he was just a house away if you needed him.
Damn, you needed him.
I can hold out, I’ll settle in a minute.
He’d left you about an hour ago, after walking you here, and running through some quick improvements he’d done to keep your apartment more secure.
The windows are sealed, the doors are double bolted, there are cameras focused on the hallways outside your door being monitored constantly by his security team. He’s not far if you need him, he’ll come running if you call.
Still… it feels like you’re not alone.
Like there’s something lurking… watching… waiting for you to relax, to drop your guard, so that it can reach out from the darkness around your bed and drag you into the depths.
You shudder.
The windows are sealed, the doors are double bolted, there are cameras focused on the hallways outside your door being monitored constantly by his security team. He’s not far if you need him, he’ll come running if you call.
You should call.
Fuck, but you don’t want to give up so easily, you don’t want to surrender to the fear, to prove the stalker right- you don’t want to be weak.
The doors are bolted. The doors are bolted. The doors are bolted.
He’d come running if you call.
Your fingers reach for the panther hanging around your neck. Each breath you take is more unsure than the last.
What if he didn’t come when you called?
Should you try taking something to help you sleep? No- something could happen and you wouldn’t be able to wake up.
You close your eyes but the darkness gets in closer, and when you open them, the room has less light in it than before.
It’ll pass, it’ll go away. I just have to make it through tonight.
Fuck, you should keep the lights on.
He’d shown you hiding spots. Your closet, under your bed, places you could get to that would buy you time for him to get to you.
But your thinking was irrational, and you knew it.
What if someone gets in?
What if they’re already inside? The shadows at the corner of your room take shape into a human-like form. You stare at it, unable to blink, trying to ascertain whether there was a real person there or not.
No, no, Billy swept the place and though he refuses to admit it, he must have used superhuman abilities to do so.
Google says there’s advanced hearing, and sensitive smell, he’d know.
The windows are sealed, the doors are double bolted, there are cameras focused on the hallways outside your door being monitored constantly by his security team. He’s not far if you need him, he’ll come running if you call.
You wanted the panther. The sleek black predator that would lie beside you, let you curl into him, and watch over you while you slept.
The dangerous, lethal beast that wouldn’t harm a hair on your head, but would tear limbs off the people that wanted to hurt you.
Why couldn’t he give that to you? Admit that he was who you already knew he was.
Why couldn’t he trust you?
Your doors were bolted, your windows sealed, and all you wanted was that damned predator of a man sleeping beside you.
.
“You didn’t sleep.” Billy notes when he sees you the next morning, standing outside, waiting for you beside his car.
You resist the extra snarky response, your eyelids feeling impossibly heavy as you glance up at him.
“Thanks.” you murmur, reaching for your sunglasses, a migraine threatening to form behind your right eye.
You tug the passenger door open, and his hand immediately pushes it closed.
You resist the groan of annoyance, turning your head to look at him.
“You should have called me.”
You let out a sigh of defeat.
“I thought I could handle it.”
He pauses for a long moment, and you spend the time studying his hand, pressed to the door.
You long to be touched by him, but what you long for even harder is to be told the truth, so that you have the chance to know him, really know the entire person, than just the stoic, occasionally romantic man he gives to you right now.
You want too much, you think.
“I don’t enjoy seeing you like this.” He finally confesses, and something in your chest tightens because of it.
You close your eyes, sucking in a deep breath to get the venom of your thoughts under control.
“It has to happen.” You finally say, “Recovery isn’t easy, and the alternative is over-dependency on you.”
“There are other ways- more gradual ways.” He leans in, his chest pressing to the back of your shoulder, you feel your body relax involuntarily as his scent wraps around you.
He reaches for your hand with the one not pressed to the car. You feel your fingers interlock with his. He leans in, and presses a soft kiss to your neck.
You hum, tilting your head to give him more access, sharp tingles erupting from the feel of his warm lips on your skin.
“Promise me you’ll call next time.” Billy whispers, you can feel the brush of his lips as he speaks the words, his nose gliding up the column of your neck to right below your ear.
Common sense tries to break into your thoughts, reminding you that you’re on the sidewalk of a not so busy street. Anyone could be watching.
The nonsensical part of your head tells you that nothing matters when he’s by your side.
“Okay.” You say, and if you’re totally honest with yourself, you don’t even understand what you’re agreeing to.
“Thank you.” he places one final kiss to your cheek before he moves his arm from bracing the door to allow you to open it.
As previously discussed, this is my official correspondence informing you that there will be a security simulated threat carried out on Thursday at 12pm.
I have attached documents highlighting the scope of my simulation and the anticipated response time and protocol.
This simulation is expected to last approximately two hours and expected impacts are as follows:
Alerts to be triggered in monitoring systems.
A temporary increase in network activity.
Interruption of IT workflows while the team investigates and responds.
No actual threats will be introduced and no permanent impact on systems or data is expected. All security system configurations and data have been backed up in duplicate to avoid any loss of information.
A post-simulation report will be provided to review findings and recommendations.
Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions on the subject matter.
When the lights go out five minutes into your security simulation, you freeze.
That, was definitely not part of the plan.
You straighten in the darkness, trying to fight off the initial wave of panic that flushes through your entire system.
Someone turns on the flashlight on their phone, but it’s not enough, and you find yourself standing, in an attempt to find the nearest window and secure yourself to it until the lights come on.
“The back up generator should have kicked on by now.” You hear someone say to another in the darkness, and you blink, realising the accuracy of the statement.
You remain outwardly calm, closing your laptop and scooping it under your arm, using the light of your phone screen to navigate toward the door.
You hear running in the hallway outside, and you pause, sticking your head out, squinting into the darkness for any signs of trouble.
What on earth was going on? Should you find Billy? You step into the hallway, determined to find the stairwell. The area is dark, and it terrifies you, but the anxiety that this power outage could be your fault overrules the fear of a potential threat in the building.
Maybe it was coincidental, maybe the power failure had nothing to do with you.
You hold onto that hope as you push the door to the stairwell open. It swings much faster than you push, and you gasp in surprise as you realise it’s being pulled open from the other side.
Your heart jumps into your throat, a precursor to a scream manifests as a sharp breath before a familiar hand is clamping over your mouth and pulling you into the darkness.
“It’s me, sweetheart, shhh.” You hear his rushed voice as he tries to reassure you. Oak and jasmine fills your nose and your panic halts as you realise who it is.
“Billy.” You murmur happily, throwing yourself into his arms, still trying to hold onto your laptop, crushed between you as you embrace each other.
“I’m right here,” he reassures, “Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m okay.” You shake your head burying your face into the collar of his shirt and sighing blissfully as you enjoy the feel of him, “What’s going on?”
He brings a hand up to cup the back of your head, his thumb gently stroking the spot right below your ear as you hear him take a deep breath into your hair.
Was he smelling you? Could he breathe in and know how anxious you were?
“All I know is that power went out when I was in my office. The first thing I did was find you.”
“You ran down five flights of stairs in two minutes in the dark?” You challenge. He wasn’t even out of breath, you could hear his uncharactaristically slow heart as you shift your head to press your ear to his chest.
“What,” Billy murmurs, humour filling his tone, “like it’s hard?”
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head, his hands roam over your back and hips softly, as if feeling each part of you in the darkness comes second nature to him.
“You should probably find out what’s going on. I’ll wait down here-”
“-No,” he interrupts, “Until the power comes back, you’re safer with me.”
You raise your eyebrows, turning your head to look up at him, barely making out his facial features in the darkness.
“That will look suspicious.” You try to reason.
“Don’t care. I want you by my side where I know you’re safe. HR be damned.”
You find yourself smiling, heart tripping over itself in your chest.
“Okay,” You agree, “lead the way.”
He links his fingers with yours, and tugs you in the direction of the stairs. You know from your exploration of the building that the main power and UPS rooms are on the first floor, which is three or four floors below you.
Damn, at least you weren’t going up. Down would be a little easier on your feet, and the small manageable heel you’d worn today-
Your brain comes to a halt when he stops, two steps below you, turning, and looping his arm below your butt to lift you.
You gasp, brain sputtering for a moment as he continues moving down the stairs, not even a jolt going through you with how carefully he moves.
“I can walk!” You whisper-shout down at him.
He only had one arm supporting you, and he hadn’t even slowed down.
“I know!” He responds with sass, mimicking your tone.
“You’re soo not beating the kitty allegations.” You whisper quietly, pulling your laptop closer to your chest with one hand, the other bracing for balance against his shoulder.
He has the audacity to chuckle.
“Keep testing me sweetheart, and I’ll break every goddamned HR rule right here on these stairs with you.”
You make a small whimper of desire, mind running wild with all the possibilities.
“How can you even see?” You demand, wondering what excuse he’d find, “Aren’t you afraid you’ll trip and drop me?”
His hum sounds like one of amusement, not giving an answer.
“Hypothetically speaking, sweetheart, if I were what you say I am-”
“-You are.”
You can almost hear his eyes rolling.
“-What would you even do with that information?”
“Who says I have to do anything? Maybe I just want to support you.” You pause for a moment, deep in thought.
“It might be nice to know that someone like that is on my side.” You finish.
“Am I not enough?” His tone is flippant, but you know better.
Something cold and hard pierces your heart.
“No that’s not what I meant-” You rush out, shaking your head, “I’m sorry Billy. You are enough, you’re more than enough.”
The words have died a slow painful death in your throat. You frown as he turns onto his last flight of steps.
“I’m sorry,” You repeat earnestly, “I just meant- with every threat against me- it might be nice to know that the person on my side is not as easily hurt as I am.” You try to swallow the ache but it just won’t budge, “Because maybe the reality of it is that you can get hurt, and I don’t think I could live with that.”
When he gets to the first floor, he places you down gently, before he cups either side of your face, thumbs sweeping over your cheeks affectionately.
You drink in his comfort greedily, pressing your face to his palm, closing your eyes as you let the sensation of his presence soothe you.
“Don’t fret, sweetheart, not for me.”
You shake your head to silently disagree with the way his tone implies he’s not as important as you think he is.
“You mean a lot to me.” You murmur, looking up at him in the darkness.
.
In that moment, he wants to confess everything to you.
And if this was only about him- if it didn’t potentially risk Frank or Dinah- he might have.
Something inside of him aches so badly without you close, he dreads the distance he's encouraged.
He hears the growling of the panther in his head, so loudly that it drowns out every other sound for a moment.
He feels like he's been brought to his knees and the pretty eyes looking up at him are solely to blame.
He brings his hands up to cup your cheek, his eyes seeing clearly in the darkness, memorizing your face, and the way you look up at him with so much want.
Why was he doing this? Torturing you both by moving slowly when he finally had you in arms reach?
Your suspicions are right. I'm the panther that saved you all those months ago and you're my fated soulmate that I can't stop thinking about for a single second. Move in with me.
“Let’s have dinner.” He says instead.
He watches you blink, and glance away, and he knows he's fucking ruined something by avoiding the topic yet again.
“Okay…” you agree with a nod.
You turn, and you extend a hand, navigating the short distance to the door.
He doesn't want to end this here, and when you take a step away from him, he reaches out, and grabs your wrist.
He hears your breath catch, it echoes in the empty stairwell, music to his ears as he pulls your body against his.
He wants to apologize, to crumple like a man obsessed, give in to you so that you stop pulling away.
His breathing is sharp, the smell of strawberries all around him, everything about you- your hair, your eyes, your skin- all of it calling out to him in the most maddening way possible.
“Stop me.” He begs, as he drops his forehead to touch yours. Your eyes flutter closed as you enjoy the sensation of him.
How could you be upset with him and still be reaching out to him for comfort? Your hand squeezes his shoulder for a brief moment.
“Why would I do that?” You ask, tipping your head up, sharing the same breath with you, your mouths so close together that he could almost shake.
Inside his head, the beast rumbles, shows him images of you leaving him when you get tired of his lies.
“Because- I don't know how to stay in control around you.” The confession burns in his throat, he hates himself for this the most.
You give him a breathy laugh, your hand inching into his hair, delicate fingers tangling with the strands the way he knows your souls are tangled together.
“I don't want your control, Billy.” You say simply, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cupid's bow, “I never have.”
He shakes his head. You don't know what you're asking for and he can't explain it right now.
“It’s overrated anyway,” you say, drawing him into you, taking slow steps back until you trap yourself between his body and the wall, you tip your body slightly to place your laptop down, “What about us gives you the notion that we're in control?”
You're not in control either? He hopes he's the reason.
“We should be.” He says, eyebrows drawing together as the ache of terrible thoughts fills his head.
“Where's the fun in that?” You tease, lifting your head and closing the small space between your mouths.
He tries to quiet his groan but it echoes anyway, your mouth makes him greedy, cupping your face and holding you still so he can press scalding kisses to your mouth.
He hears a small sound leave your throat, and he knows he wants more of that, pressing into you, palming your hips to pin you to the wall with his.
He whispers your name, needs you to hear how desperate you make him, how quickly he would get on his knees and seat you on his face if you wanted.
You nod, humming, as if you can hear his thoughts and you agree wholeheartedly.
Arching into him, he can feel the swell of your breasts against his chest, he grips the fabric of your pants and wishes he could tear it right off of you without consequence.
He’s honed his sensitive hearing into the dark stairwell and the door right beside them, ready to move you at a moment’s notice, or just eradicate the person that dares to interrupt them.
You sigh into his mouth, fingers dancing over his cheek and well kept beard.
A small huff leaves your mouth, and he interprets the action as your desire to say something, drawing back just enough to allow you words.
“Are we really going to have sex in this stairwell? Where the sound echoes and anyone can walk in?”
He doesn’t need to breathe to know the idea of it arouses you further, he can hear it in the sharp uptick of your heart, the hastening of your breath, the way your grip tightens on his shoulder- daring him to consider stopping.
But his control is as thin as a piece of floss, further fraying with the sweet scent of your cunt, calling out to him.
He grins, and he hears your heart beat even faster, amusing the beast inside of him, who acknowledges that you like the way he looks when he smiles.
“I told you last time, sweetheart, if you tell me no, I won’t do it.”
.
You were definitely not going to say no.
“And if I say please?” You taunt, feeling all the control he gives you go straight to your cunt.
“Then I’ll do it twice.”
You laugh, giving him one last kiss before you face the wall.
He surrounds you in moments, kissing your neck, warm hands reaching under your shirt to cup your bra, tugging the material just low enough to skate his fingers across your stiffening nipples.
“Fuck.” You gasp into the darkness, tipping your head back, grinding back against him, feeling his stiff erection through your clothes.
Not a word is spoken between the two of you, but this want transcends words, it lies in the movement of your hips, in the unsteady shifting of two people trying to be as close as possible in a place they definitely shouldn’t be.
You take one of his hands, guiding it down between your thighs. You feel so hot there, and his fingers move over your clothed pussy experimentally, testing your reaction before his hands are sliding under the waistband of your pants.
You scramble to unbutton them, giving him more space to move his fingers, and he wastes no time gliding under your panties, finding your clit so easily, trapping the swollen bud between two fingers.
You press your lips together but a sound still leaves you, his mouth kissing at the side of your head.
You bring your other hand up, pressing into the side of his face. You feel him kiss the inside of your wrist, and that small act, while his fingers are expertly circling your clit, makes you lose any semblance of rationality.
You want him now, and you refuse to wait any more.
Finally, you find the will to speak. “Please fuck me.” You whisper, grinding your hips into his fingers.
He makes a low sound of protest, “I need to get you ready-”
You make a swift shake of your head, pushing any fabric around your hips down your legs, exposing your lower half to the open air except it doesn’t feel like it with his body pressed in right behind you.
You lean forward, bracing your hands on the wall and presenting your ass to him, groaning when you hear the quiet curse he sets free followed by the sound of his belt being undone.
You clench around nothing, very eager to wrap yourself around him, groaning softly as his cock rests on your ass when he leans in.
“Sure about this, sweetheart?” Billy asks bracing one arm beside you on the wall, and when it’s not enough he covers your hand, fingers interlocking with yours.
You don’t know how else to convey your desperation, nodding your head, pushing your hips back and forth, pleasure exploding in your head from the simplest touch of him.
He reaches down, warm breaths disturbing your hair as he notches the head of his cock against your entrance.
Your body resists at first, wet, but not quite relaxed enough. You hear him let out a shuddering breath, face pressed into your shoulder before he finds the strength to talk.
He doesn’t give you more than you can take as he works himself into you, moving with careful strokes as you grow used to his size.
It’s you that grows impatient first, and while he’s still being careful to make sure he doesn’t hurt you, you press back against him, pushing him to fill you to the brim very quickly.
Your breathing stutters, your walls clenching around him steadily as you feel yourself teetering on a weak orgasm.
“Fuck.” You breathe.
Your eyes roll back in your head, fighting the premature bliss, waiting till your pleasure is more manageable before you begin moving your hips.
The length of him fills every inch of you, and it’s hard to believe with how well you take him now, that you ever had any trouble to begin with.
There’s something perfect about your motions, it saps the strength from your arms till your face is pressed to the chilled wall, only able to move your hips in a slow yet purposeful rhythm.
He lets you take control, allows you to fuck back on his cock and use him for pleasure until your body is shaking and you can barely think.
“You.” He says lowly, his voice almost a grovel, drowning too deeply in pleasure to raise your head, you settle for turning your face just a little to let him know you’re listening.
“Look so perfect taking my cock like this.” He grunts.
A soft hum of thanks leaves you, and you press your hips back even more, body shaking with the overabundance of pleasure.
You feel different somehow, dictating the pace like this, an entirely sexual being chasing that high point with no care other than this.
You want to feel like this more, you want to explore this side of yourself in his bed, delivering pleasure to both of you completely bare to each other.
It’s not something you’re used to though, and after a few minutes, you’re unable to hold your pace.
Which is when you feel him take over. Your boyfriend.
His fingers tighten on your hips, in a way that you love even though you know it's going to bruise. You'll wear them with pride, enjoying the marks he gives you that show his claim.
His first thrust is deep, hard, the tip of his cock pressing right into that spot inside you that makes you tremble violently, tears springing to your eyes as you barely comprehend the pleasure.
He pants in your ear, trying to be quiet but you can hear how good it feels for him in the stuttering of his breath.
Your bodies meet with a slapping sound, you're almost ashamed at the way it echoes in the stairwell, the shame only making it that much sweeter.
Someone could find you here, pressed against this wall, sweat sticking your hair to your cheeks, taking your boss’ cock deep into your pussy…like a whore. The thought makes you clench, his grip tightening on your hips.
It pulls a smile onto your face, one he can't see, but his pace quickens and it's all you need to fall apart.
It isn't the most comfortable orgasm, but it hits you like a fucking truck all the same, body trembling, a whimper you can't restrain leaving your mouth, and your eyes rolling back in your head in the darkness.
His hips stutter, and you feel his cock pulse, cum coating your greedy walls, tightening at the sensation of his release.
Billy gasps into your ear, trying to catch his breath, pressing his forehead to your temple. After a few short moments, the reality of what you've just done makes you laugh.
You turn your head to catch sight of him properly, a warm look on his face as you meet his eyes.
“I can't believe we just did that.” You whisper, his cock still deep inside of you, still pulsing, one of his hands release your hip, sliding over your womb, the sensation soothing you in a way you don't quite understand but you don’t fight it.
His smile deepens.
“I can't resist you.” He whispers, “I don't want to.”
You tip your chin up, and he leans in for a kiss.
.
…And after all of that, you're expected to work.
Sore from all your vigorous activities, legs wobbly and heart pounding just a little bit harder than usual, you suck in deep slow breaths as you listen to the sheer incompetence that happened to cause the power outage.
You glance at Billy, his stoic features as he listens, a touch of displeasure on the set of his brows and the only thought on your mind is how badly you want him.
….again.
How much sex could you have before your body gave up? You had a general idea from your second night together, but you wanted to push that even now.
You're a little distracted that you miss a bit of the explanation, only zoning back in when you feel that the conversation is about you.
“-only warned us about a possible test, maybe not the exact time, we might have been a little bit more ready.”
You blink, a world of thoughts going through your head and you're sure it shows on your face.
These dumbasses… pulled all the power… from all of the systems… and are trying to blame you for it?
You turn your head away, acting like you’re clearing your throat as your face breaks into a ridiculous grin.
“I don’t know why you think this is funny.” Keith, one of the associates working under Phil says aggressively.
You can’t help it, your shoulders start shaking as you laugh, holding up a finger as you turn away fully, dropping your head, trying really hard to pull yourself together.
It was really unprofessional of you, especially in front of the company's CEO, but you literally couldn't help it, you were running on such little sleep that your mind might have snapped into delirium, finding humor in what would most likely be a ton of work to ensure that all the systems were back online like normal.
And somehow… it was your fault.
Typical.
You turn back to the group of three men, dabbing at the corner of your eyes where tears of laughter have formed, no longer trying to hide your expressions.
“Sorry, just trying to understand which part of the SOP says to panic and cut all power to the building.”
Keith doesn’t say anything, but his eyes narrow sharply on you, and you realise that by saying this in Billy’s presence, you’ve made an enemy of him.
Evidently, he’d have to get in line.
Beside you, something in Billy shifts- you can almost feel it in the air, a tension that prolongs the silence. You keep your eyes on Keith as his focus shifts from you to the predator in a man’s body beside you.
“That’s a fair point.” His deep voice sounds calm, but there’s an undercurrent of warning, something you’re not sure is tangible enough for Keith to notice, or if to him, something just feels off.
“Who authorised a full shutdown?” He continues, and you watch as both men stiffen, avoiding eye contact and choosing to count the eyelets on their shoes instead.
You weren’t sure if his silent support of you was intentional or not, but it was definitely hot as fuck. To have him on your side, defending you, trusting in your word, it felt like something beautifully unfamiliar, but very welcome.
Your body warms, you glance away as your core tightens eagerly, as though you hadn’t just taken him in the stairwell moments before. God, you’d become so fucking insatiable for him.
The lights coming on distracts you from your thoughts, just as Phil comes back into the room with the head of maintenance. You don’t like the way their eyes both land on you, some sort of accusation there, that this was your fault.
You clear your throat, eager to get out of there.
“Okay, I’m gonna go check out the server rooms, make sure everything is coming online.” Laptop tight in hand, you look at Phil for approval. He gives you a small nod.
“Why don’t you go with her, Danny, in case she needs something.” Phil says, and in your peripherals you see Danny, who was the guy standing beside Keith, shrug, with a small ‘Sure’ of acceptance.
You don’t look in Billy’s direction as you turn, and leave the room.
.
He really didn’t like watching you leave with another man. The panther growled in his head, at the sight of Danny following you out the door.
He knew he couldn’t follow, that he had to stay behind and listen to these men fumble through their mistakes. The smell of you lingered- strawberries and your combined releases had made you a potent aphrodisiac, and the predator was desperate to breathe you in.
The shifters on his team would no doubt realize you were with him, and the men on security duty on the day of the elevator incident, and of course Katerina, with her knowing eyes- but no one else could know.
“If we’re running full-scale tests like this, I feel like my team needs to be included in the planning stage.” Phil says calmly.
Billy sees it for what it is- a subtle jab at you and your methods.
“That’s irrelevant at this point, a building- wide power drop isn’t a standard response.” Which brings about a strange itch in his head.
Glancing at Keith, “Who actually pulled the power?” He asks.
Keith raises his hands, “Wasn’t me, when the attack started, it looked bad, I heard a couple of guys suggest it, and then the power was out. I figured one of them must have.”
“Then what are you doing down here?” Billy follows with, listening to the man’s heart race with anxiety.
“I just came down to help.” Keith answers, sounding genuine.
Billy doesn’t say anything else, simply turning to walk out the door. He listens to Keith let out a sigh of relief.
“That fucker’s intense.” Keith says to Phil.
Phil lets out a hum of acknowledgement, “Do you know who pulled the power?”
“Yeah, didn’t want to throw him under the bus, but I think it was Danny. He’s still learning, we were isolating the server cluster for shutdown… he must have misread the control panel I guess.”
“We’ll deal with that later, why don’t you check each floor for any issues?”
“-What would you even do with that information?” He says? Giant kitty cuddles. I would demand giant kitty cuddles whenever I wanted. Turn into the panther and let me snuggle into your soft warm fur and let me play with your large toe beans. 😩😍
Also, I can’t remember if it was mentioned in previous chapters that the reader was on a contraceptive but if not, I’m surprised she’s not pregnant yet. Not that I would mind, I feel there’s an upsetting lack of dad!billy fics. 😅
Warnings: Work shenanigans, anxiety, angst, jealousy, possessiveness.
A/N: I feel like I say this a lot but Jesus Christ I am having the roughest time. Like... my dog's sick, and work is fucking insane and trying to balance life is an absolute nightmare. Being alive is making me mad right now. Send help.
Anyways, here's Teeth.
Danny hovers over your shoulder like a bug you desperately want to swat.
Surely HR would understand it if you just gave him one swift smack with the server’s operator manuals on the desk nearby.
He’s just… too close.
It’s scrambling your thinking, you can’t read properly when his breath is dusting your shoulder. Seriously, who stands so close?
He’d only been here half a month now, he’d supplied that information too eagerly to you on his way up. He was like a puppy, with his shaggy brown hair and glasses, shifting behind you to see better and asking questions while you were trying to do your checks.
Questions were okay, you didn’t mind answering questions- except it was hard to read the results of your diagnostic checks and answer his million questions.
“Why did you decide to become a consultant?” Danny asks.
Jesus Christ.
When you part your lips to politely answer him, an error pops up. One or more nodes not responding.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Uh,” You hedge, leaning in to reboot the system in hopes that it fixes the problem. In the time that it takes to reboot, you scrape together a polite answer for Danny.
“Honestly, I didn’t think consultancy was a logical path because my old boss made it out to be a nepotistic boy’s club. Maybe his way of holding me in that role. It worked for a while, but Mister Russo just made me an offer I’d have been too stupid to refuse.” Not to mention he’s hot as sin and his cum is still leaking out of me, you think to yourself with a small smile.
When the system reboots, the error is still present. You let out a soft breath of annoyance, opening up the error logs to search for any hints as to what might be causing the issue.
“Why don’t we just reboot everything again?” Danny asks.
Thankfully you’re facing the computer screen so he doesn’t see your right eye twitch. You glance at the operator’s manual longingly for a moment.
“Maybe if the error was related to synchronisation that might work. But I suspect there’s a corrupted file somewhere causing this. Servers don’t usually like unexpected power losses. Maybe we shouldn’t have a single button that-”
Your fingers freeze on the keyboard.
Something strange washes down your spine, an ache in your throat as if you’ve swallowed a handful of nails.
Wrong.
Danny keeps talking.
You can’t hear him properly, his voice muffled under the ringing that has started in your head.
You try to swallow.
Standing suddenly, you glance from the computer to Danny, unable to explain why you suddenly feel like your insides, your soul, your very essence is no longer in the room with you, having left your body without warning.
“I have to… do something,” You rush out inexplicably, “Run the diagnostic again, I’ll-” Turning, you run out the door.
.
The feeling is so unfamiliar that it shocks you. It’s like an instinct you’d long forgotten about, coming to life and demanding your compliance. You don’t know where you’re going, just letting your feet take you as though your head has rescinded control to something buried deeper.
It takes you through the halls, to the elevator, your hand hovering over the numbers, trying to discern with unfamiliar senses where to go.
Your heart begins slamming in your chest, pulses of warm blood racing through your head, the distinct feeling of running out of time overwhelms you.
Which floor? What was going on? You close your eyes and jab without thought.
Top floor.
Billy.
Yes, that was it, you had to find Billy.
This wasn’t like the anxiety attack you’d had before, this was strange, the urge to see him- to soothe him- almost swallows you.
Your finger jabs the button again and again, as though pressing it more times will move the elevator faster. You can hear your own breathing, feel the shallow squeezes of your heart, but something else is in control.
The doors pull open slowly, you squeeze yourself through the first gap you can.
You know where you’re going now, your thoughts in your head have aligned somewhat with the movement of your body until you’re pressing against his office door.
“Billy?”
He turns as though he’s been caught. You draw in deep breaths, eyes scanning the room for threats. Your eyes roam the room, finding nothing, before something catches your eye.
In the corner of the room, on one of his couches, is the scarf you’d lost a week ago.
It’s not the scarf that’s strange, but the items around that seem odd- a broken phone- not just broken- crushed- as though squeezed under an object while lying on its side. A torn shirt, that makes you approach curiously. Ripped right down the middle, splashes of mud all over it.
Then, another piece of dark, ripped fabric, curiously, you reach for it. It’s stiff, crusty, flakes of mud settling on your palm as you pick it up. Except that… mud doesn’t usually smell so metallic.
Gasping, you drop the fabric, stepping back, wiping your hands against your pants automatically. You realise where you’d seen it before. They’d shown you pictures of the mangled serial killer after your near death escape, anything to help jog your memory of the events.
The fabric… had once been a part of his shirt.
Your hands can’t seem to feel clean, as you wipe them repeatedly.
“What is this?” You turn your head to look in Billy’s direction, his face is calm, his eyes making a slow assessment of you as you feel like you’re going a little crazy, “What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing.” He says, the clicking of his desk drawer as it slides shut. You hadn’t realised it was open in the first place.
“This isn’t nothing.” You swallow, turning your head back to the little pile of items.
“That’s my scarf- and the torn shirt is from-” Your throat tightens before you can say the words.
“Why are they here?” You turn to look at Billy, his eyes seem to plead with you to stop, but you don’t want to, you want answers, “Why?”
And the phone, you turn back to look at the phone. Was this his?
You stared at the items, and stared and stared and the pieces wouldn’t fit, they didn’t make sense.
Did the stalker leave these items during the power outage? Why?
Your fingers trace over the torn shirt. Ripped, as though torn from the body in a sudden haste, or maybe shredded under claws-
Your breath shudders out.
The crushed phone was indented weirdly, curled in, one side held a wider surface area of damage than the other, you could almost imagine it, held in someone’s hand and squeezed.
Not someone. A predator.
You straightened, turning to look at Billy once more.
He looked back at you, stoic, like the man you’d met all those months ago was here once again.
You waited, and waited, and hoped he’d explain, but when a minute had passed in tense silence between you, the realisation came that you would not be hearing an explanation.
Your throat ached, your heart tore.
You would have believed him. You would have understood. You would have kept it a secret.
He didn’t trust you.
Without a word, you turn, and walk out the door.
.
The silence that echoes through his head is short lived.
The beast roars in his head, so loudly that he squeezes his eyes shut and tightens his fists. Unconsciously, he takes a step forward as if to chase you, stopping himself short.
Angry.
The predator rages at him. Billy feels his teeth elongate, his eyes shift, pushing at him to find you, to confess to you, to kneel at your feet and beg for your forgiveness.
To claim-
A sharp, guttural breath leaves his chest.
He reaches for his phone, and calls Madani.
She answers on the third ring. Neither of them speaks.
“Anvil. Now.” Is all Billy can find the control to say through gritted teeth. He can barely hear himself think over the angry roaring of the panther in his head.
He ends the call, gripping his table tightly as he tries to think.
Fuck, he should have locked the building down. He’d have to call security.
He’d been so busy hiding the more… revealing evidence in his desk that the thought had slipped him.
Worse- he was still warring with himself to go after you.
The look on your face had crushed him. How could he have done that to you? Why didn’t he say anything?
You were in enough danger already, without him adding confirmation of shapeshifters into the mix. The thought of what could happen to you if hunters got their hands on you was enough to momentarily silence the beast.
They would capture you, torture you, try to turn you against him, and if they couldn’t- they’d kill you.
Which was… a best case scenario.
He couldn’t think about worst case- not without the memories of his past being dredged up, the shouts of shifters reverberating in his head as they’re killed by their brainwashed mates. The agony of betrayal in the sound of their screams, begging their loves to remember them.
Putting her deeper into harm’s way wasn’t an option.
The day is almost over when Dinah arrives. He asks Sergei to make sure you get home safely before he finds himself being dragged into a game of endless possibilities with the Homeland agent.
Sitting at his desk, all the evidence laid out before him as the sun sets behind him. He tilts his head, watching Dinah scan the items, leaning in to pick up the black scrap of fabric you’d handled earlier, sniffing at it.
“It’s a warning.” Billy says, stating the obvious.
Madani hums, “It’s more than that.”
His eyebrow twitches curiously.
“This person has collected a lot of evidence about you. They know the places you’ve been, they know what you are-” She picks up what looks like a large petri dish, holding a cutting of mud that contains one of his perfectly preserved paw prints, “They’ve cleaned up after you. They want you to know that.”
She examines the paw print, leaning in to take a tentative sniff.
“All I can smell is you. Even that tells me something. This isn’t just a warning, this is… obsession.”
He turns away, sifting through his head for anyone that might be willing to go to these lengths.
Unfortunately, the list is long.
Combing through security footage is longer still.
Billy paces behind Dinah as she sits and scrolls through the screens.
“How can there be nothing?” He asks for a second time.
Dinah is no doubt tired of him, her annoyance growing in every breath she takes.
“There are no freezes, or splices in the footage, no inconsistencies in the hallway movements. Everyone on your floor is accounted for.”
Billy pauses his steps, “What if they came in from another floor?”
Dinah itches at the corner of her eye, “Like through a vent? Do you have a vent that would fit a human?”
“No,” He drawls, “But-” He turns to face her swiftly, “Maybe we’re not looking for a human.”
“Shifter?” Dinah utters in disbelief, the quick clicking of the mouse as she scrolls, “As in, a wereferret pulling a bag of werepanther evidence through the vents?”
Billy makes a face.
“Are wereferrets real?” He asks.
Dinah chuckles.
“You tell me, you might have one running through your vents obsessed with you.”
He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“I’ll make the shifters on my team do a sweep. If there’s anything there- they’ll find it.”
Madani nods absentmindedly.
“I’ll take a copy of the footage, and keep sweeping. There has to be something.”
Billy agrees.
.
It’s almost ten p.m. when they step into the garage. Billy’s heading to his car, and Dinah’s isn’t parked too far away.
“Someone should check in on…” Billy says, refraining from speaking Frank’s name, always trying to keep his best friend safe.
She knows what he means though.
“I’ll reach out within the week and let you know.”
“Thanks.”
He pauses when he sees another car in the parking lot. Sure, the building isn’t empty, but this is the car Sergei should have used to take you home hours ago.
Shit. When was the last time he’d checked his phone?
There’s a message from you, telling him that you’re working late- part of his system isn’t communicating- that you sent Sergei home and that you’ll grab a taxi.
He lets out a swift curse.
Dinah lifts an eyebrow curiously.
Something wrong?” She asks.
“It’s fine, I just forgot something inside. I’ll talk to you later.” He says, turning to walk back the way he came.
He finds Sergei standing outside the server room with a bored expression on his face. The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement, that you thought you could have dismissed his bodyguard after he’d received orders to make sure you got home safely.
“Go home, Sergei.” Billy murmurs as he pulls open the door.
He doesn’t wait to see if the man acknowledges his command.
Your scent is sweet in the air, a little tart around the edges. He can even smell himself, still lingering on your skin and that makes the predator purr in delight. He feels himself stir in his trousers, the thought of being here alone with you stirs something wicked inside of him.
His smile drops when he smells another, and then his mood sinks even further when your laughter rings out.
Who the fuck is making his girl laugh?
He rounds the corner, and stops, catching your side profile.
There you are, with your hair pulled back, a little messy, as though you could care less about righting it. That soft, pretty way you look, your eyes rimmed red with exhaustion and still a smile on your face as you glance over at-
Fucking Danny.
The beast growls.
You shiver, and he watches you tug something tighter around you. He swears he feels his teeth crack under the strain of his anger.
Who's fucking jacket were you wearing?
And why the fuck was that man so close to you?
He raises a hand, and raps loudly on the nearby steel doorframe. Two heads swivel in his direction.
“Mister Russo.” You say, rising.
Mister Russo?
Mister Russo?
Forget his fucking nickname, he was going to condition that tight cunt to get wet every time you called him Mister Fucking Russo since you insisted on saying it so goddamned much.
After today, he was going to teach you the very hard way, what his fucking name was.
He feels the predator wrap tightly around his thoughts, influencing his demeanour. Billy draws in a deep breath, glancing at the monitor while he gets himself in check.
“A little late, isn’t it?”
You make a small hum, looking back at the monitor as well.
“Yes. I had to reload the software-” You spare a look at Danny, “-twice, and then the backups I made are being restored now.”
His eyes fall on the man’s jacket wrapped around you as you talk. The predator urges him to rip the jacket off of you and strangle Danny with it.
“Hmm.” he intonates softly.
You turn back to him with wide eyes.
“Can I speak with you outside?” Billy asks, moving aside to allow you to pass, not really giving you the option of saying no.
He scents your spike of interest in the air as you nod easily, looking back at Danny for a second and giving him instructions in case the backup finishes loading before you get back.
When you walk past him, he catches your scent, mixed in with Danny’s, and his canines elongate in his mouth. He tosses Danny a murderous look before he turns to follow you out.
.
You lean your shoulder against the wall outside, waiting patiently for Billy. You let out a slow sigh, squeezing your eyes closed for a moment before reopening them.
Damn, you really should have tried harder to fall asleep last night.
You hear the door click shut and you raise your head, fighting a yawn.
“If this is about overtime-”
Your body is pressed squarely into the wall and his mouth is on yours before you can even finish your sentence.
Fuuuuck.
His kiss is harsh, almost punishing. Difficult to keep up with and hard to comprehend with your tired brain.
But you love every second of it.
Your hands lift, pressing to his shoulders and a low growl leaves him, as he reaches up to grip your wrists, pinning them beside your head.
You suck in a breath of surprise, but he doesn’t relent, slipping a leg between your own as you feel your stance buckle slightly.
“B- Billy.” You murmur into his mouth.
He makes a sound of defiance, releasing one wrist to grab a fistful of the hair on the back of your head.
You whine, hips gliding unconsciously over his thigh, searching for friction.
His hand grips your hair tighter, a small sound of bliss and surprise leaves you.
His mouth finds your neck, kissing and worrying the skin, sharp teeth nipping as he moves to that sweet spot between your neck and shoulder. You sigh, tilting your head eagerly, nipples pebbling at the hungry way he mouths at you. He pushes the jacket off your shoulders and you let it drop to the floor eagerly.
His mouth is gone from you almost instantly.
You’re so confused for a moment, the absence of him causing your head to spin as you press your body to the wall behind.
Eyes zeroing in on him, standing across from you, wiping at your gloss clinging to the corner of his mouth.
You watch, as he slowly tugs his jacket off, your eyes eating up the way he looks in his shirt, the muscles of his arms flexing, barely contained. A slow breath of awareness as he approaches.
“What-” You start to say, but you’re interrupted by him turning you to face the wall, and the next thing you know, he’s tugging his jacket onto your body like you’re just an oversized doll.
Fuck, your brain is essentially scrambled right now, thrown off-kilter by his confusing mannerisms.
He pulls the jacket to your shoulders before turning you to face him. His hands smooth over the lapels, studying them with a careful eye.
His thumb strokes your racing pulse point on your throat gently. You find yourself swallowing under the intensity of his gaze, his eyes tracing the movement.
You feel his thumb, press into your throat more firmly.
“You should be more careful about whose things you wear. You wouldn’t want to… put someone in danger.”
It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to figure out what exactly he means.
You part your lips to say something, to defend the guy you'd warmed to just a little while working with him. Yes, you still wanted to smack him over the head with the Operator’s Manual, but in a slightly less homicidal way.
“You know I'm going to have to swear him to secrecy now, right? If I walk back in there with your jacket-”
His hand moves to secure itself around your throat. Not even squeezing, just holding you there in a way that tells you he's trying his best to be nice.
You fight a smile.
“Don't care.” He utters gruffly, “You're mine.”
Now when he says it like that, with his dark eyes on you, promising every wicked thing you've ever fantasized about, it makes you feel just a little bit crazy with how much you want him.
You nod in understanding, and he lets out a soft sigh.
“I'll wait for you in the car.” He murmurs, placing one last lingering kiss to your cheek, before he steps away.
.
“Hey,” Danny says when you step back into the room, his eyes still fixed on the monitor, “Upload just finished and I'm just rebooting like you said.”
You let out a soft sigh, “Okay, cool.”
“Everything alright with Russo?” He asks, finally turning to face you. You watch his eyes drop to the jacket on your shoulder which is distinctly not his.
“Oh… right.”
You give him an apologetic smile, stepping in to take your seat, passing him his jacket.
You can't figure out what to say, your chest sort of aches with the thought that Danny now thinks less of you because you’re wearing your boss’ jacket. Correction- that you took his offered item of clothing off when you were cold to wear Billy’s.
That he now thought you maybe seduced your way into this position, that you weren’t actually good at your job.
Fuck, why did you care so much?
Dumb question obviously, you literally built your career from scratch with your bare hands, of course you’d be sensitive to people questioning your credibility.
“So,” Danny finally says, in his attempt to split some of the tension in the room, “You and Russo?”
“Y-yeah.” You whisper softly, “It’s… new.”
“That’s cool.” Danny’s tone is casual.
You turn to study him.
“Please don’t tell anyone. I know most of the team sort of hates that I’m here, and I don’t want to give them another reason to.”
He nods, deep in thought, the curls in his hair bouncing as he looks at the screen in front of him.
“I won’t say a word. Trust me, the last person I want to piss off is you.”
You cock your head to the side, not expecting that response.
“Me?”
“Yeah,” He laughs, “You’re the person that caused some guy’s computer to explode from miles away without him even knowing.”
I come back to Tumblr after a hell of a busy week and weekend to find not one, not two, but MULTIPLE updates.
Oh, no. I gonna need to hunker down for a couple hours to refresh my memory and remember where these plot lines left off.
I’m so excited!!! 🎉🎉🎉
Thank you!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️🎂
I would never kill one of the 5 people that read my works how dare you.
Alsooo I have another update for teeth 😆 but I just have to format it
Okay... I should totally do one of those Previously on... for Teeth
It'll be something like, Previously on Teeth,
Billy is a werepanther and reader knows, he's in denial about it and reader is accepting-ish. Dr. Stut made a very fine recommendation for the reader to move back into her own apartment because she was (quite obviously) growing too dependent on her new boyfriend Billy.
The stalker has been suspiciously quiet (for the time being) ever since they (maybe) stole reader's scarf and gave it to Billy on the full moon which resulted in the panther taking control and hunting her down only to find her in his bed where they had hours of sex.
And uh... Frank is fine for now... probably eating a fish next to a river or something in bear form for the enjoyment.
I am clearly terrible at these and will be stopping now 😅
Billy is absolutely losing it. Yeah, nobody knows, except these people, and these other people and that one, of course. And the major electricity failure is just for the nice tryst in the dark, NOT part some nefarious plans 🙈🙈🙈.
I'm seriously worried about them and love every minute of it.
I CACKLED reading this because yes yes these people know and that people know but this is a secret like... suuurrreee Billy.
And as someone who's already read the next part... you're so right there's the *mumbles incoherently* but I'm sure the stairwell sex was worth it
Warnings: Anxiety, work drama, public sex, unprotected sex, zero prep.
A/N: Please love me still thanks bye
Everything is fine.
I am definitely not scared.
You gather the sheets around you, bunching it up as you bring your knees to your chest.
Nothing is wrong, it’s just in your head, it’s all in your head.
It was safe to say your first night back in your apartment wasn’t going well.
You’d been too insistent, too believable, smiling and reassuring Billy that you would be okay, that he was just a house away if you needed him.
Damn, you needed him.
I can hold out, I’ll settle in a minute.
He’d left you about an hour ago, after walking you here, and running through some quick improvements he’d done to keep your apartment more secure.
The windows are sealed, the doors are double bolted, there are cameras focused on the hallways outside your door being monitored constantly by his security team. He’s not far if you need him, he’ll come running if you call.
Still… it feels like you’re not alone.
Like there’s something lurking… watching… waiting for you to relax, to drop your guard, so that it can reach out from the darkness around your bed and drag you into the depths.
You shudder.
The windows are sealed, the doors are double bolted, there are cameras focused on the hallways outside your door being monitored constantly by his security team. He’s not far if you need him, he’ll come running if you call.
You should call.
Fuck, but you don’t want to give up so easily, you don’t want to surrender to the fear, to prove the stalker right- you don’t want to be weak.
The doors are bolted. The doors are bolted. The doors are bolted.
He’d come running if you call.
Your fingers reach for the panther hanging around your neck. Each breath you take is more unsure than the last.
What if he didn’t come when you called?
Should you try taking something to help you sleep? No- something could happen and you wouldn’t be able to wake up.
You close your eyes but the darkness gets in closer, and when you open them, the room has less light in it than before.
It’ll pass, it’ll go away. I just have to make it through tonight.
Fuck, you should keep the lights on.
He’d shown you hiding spots. Your closet, under your bed, places you could get to that would buy you time for him to get to you.
But your thinking was irrational, and you knew it.
What if someone gets in?
What if they’re already inside? The shadows at the corner of your room take shape into a human-like form. You stare at it, unable to blink, trying to ascertain whether there was a real person there or not.
No, no, Billy swept the place and though he refuses to admit it, he must have used superhuman abilities to do so.
Google says there’s advanced hearing, and sensitive smell, he’d know.
The windows are sealed, the doors are double bolted, there are cameras focused on the hallways outside your door being monitored constantly by his security team. He’s not far if you need him, he’ll come running if you call.
You wanted the panther. The sleek black predator that would lie beside you, let you curl into him, and watch over you while you slept.
The dangerous, lethal beast that wouldn’t harm a hair on your head, but would tear limbs off the people that wanted to hurt you.
Why couldn’t he give that to you? Admit that he was who you already knew he was.
Why couldn’t he trust you?
Your doors were bolted, your windows sealed, and all you wanted was that damned predator of a man sleeping beside you.
.
“You didn’t sleep.” Billy notes when he sees you the next morning, standing outside, waiting for you beside his car.
You resist the extra snarky response, your eyelids feeling impossibly heavy as you glance up at him.
“Thanks.” you murmur, reaching for your sunglasses, a migraine threatening to form behind your right eye.
You tug the passenger door open, and his hand immediately pushes it closed.
You resist the groan of annoyance, turning your head to look at him.
“You should have called me.”
You let out a sigh of defeat.
“I thought I could handle it.”
He pauses for a long moment, and you spend the time studying his hand, pressed to the door.
You long to be touched by him, but what you long for even harder is to be told the truth, so that you have the chance to know him, really know the entire person, than just the stoic, occasionally romantic man he gives to you right now.
You want too much, you think.
“I don’t enjoy seeing you like this.” He finally confesses, and something in your chest tightens because of it.
You close your eyes, sucking in a deep breath to get the venom of your thoughts under control.
“It has to happen.” You finally say, “Recovery isn’t easy, and the alternative is over-dependency on you.”
“There are other ways- more gradual ways.” He leans in, his chest pressing to the back of your shoulder, you feel your body relax involuntarily as his scent wraps around you.
He reaches for your hand with the one not pressed to the car. You feel your fingers interlock with his. He leans in, and presses a soft kiss to your neck.
You hum, tilting your head to give him more access, sharp tingles erupting from the feel of his warm lips on your skin.
“Promise me you’ll call next time.” Billy whispers, you can feel the brush of his lips as he speaks the words, his nose gliding up the column of your neck to right below your ear.
Common sense tries to break into your thoughts, reminding you that you’re on the sidewalk of a not so busy street. Anyone could be watching.
The nonsensical part of your head tells you that nothing matters when he’s by your side.
“Okay.” You say, and if you’re totally honest with yourself, you don’t even understand what you’re agreeing to.
“Thank you.” he places one final kiss to your cheek before he moves his arm from bracing the door to allow you to open it.
As previously discussed, this is my official correspondence informing you that there will be a security simulated threat carried out on Thursday at 12pm.
I have attached documents highlighting the scope of my simulation and the anticipated response time and protocol.
This simulation is expected to last approximately two hours and expected impacts are as follows:
Alerts to be triggered in monitoring systems.
A temporary increase in network activity.
Interruption of IT workflows while the team investigates and responds.
No actual threats will be introduced and no permanent impact on systems or data is expected. All security system configurations and data have been backed up in duplicate to avoid any loss of information.
A post-simulation report will be provided to review findings and recommendations.
Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions on the subject matter.
When the lights go out five minutes into your security simulation, you freeze.
That, was definitely not part of the plan.
You straighten in the darkness, trying to fight off the initial wave of panic that flushes through your entire system.
Someone turns on the flashlight on their phone, but it’s not enough, and you find yourself standing, in an attempt to find the nearest window and secure yourself to it until the lights come on.
“The back up generator should have kicked on by now.” You hear someone say to another in the darkness, and you blink, realising the accuracy of the statement.
You remain outwardly calm, closing your laptop and scooping it under your arm, using the light of your phone screen to navigate toward the door.
You hear running in the hallway outside, and you pause, sticking your head out, squinting into the darkness for any signs of trouble.
What on earth was going on? Should you find Billy? You step into the hallway, determined to find the stairwell. The area is dark, and it terrifies you, but the anxiety that this power outage could be your fault overrules the fear of a potential threat in the building.
Maybe it was coincidental, maybe the power failure had nothing to do with you.
You hold onto that hope as you push the door to the stairwell open. It swings much faster than you push, and you gasp in surprise as you realise it’s being pulled open from the other side.
Your heart jumps into your throat, a precursor to a scream manifests as a sharp breath before a familiar hand is clamping over your mouth and pulling you into the darkness.
“It’s me, sweetheart, shhh.” You hear his rushed voice as he tries to reassure you. Oak and jasmine fills your nose and your panic halts as you realise who it is.
“Billy.” You murmur happily, throwing yourself into his arms, still trying to hold onto your laptop, crushed between you as you embrace each other.
“I’m right here,” he reassures, “Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m okay.” You shake your head burying your face into the collar of his shirt and sighing blissfully as you enjoy the feel of him, “What’s going on?”
He brings a hand up to cup the back of your head, his thumb gently stroking the spot right below your ear as you hear him take a deep breath into your hair.
Was he smelling you? Could he breathe in and know how anxious you were?
“All I know is that power went out when I was in my office. The first thing I did was find you.”
“You ran down five flights of stairs in two minutes in the dark?” You challenge. He wasn’t even out of breath, you could hear his uncharactaristically slow heart as you shift your head to press your ear to his chest.
“What,” Billy murmurs, humour filling his tone, “like it’s hard?”
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head, his hands roam over your back and hips softly, as if feeling each part of you in the darkness comes second nature to him.
“You should probably find out what’s going on. I’ll wait down here-”
“-No,” he interrupts, “Until the power comes back, you’re safer with me.”
You raise your eyebrows, turning your head to look up at him, barely making out his facial features in the darkness.
“That will look suspicious.” You try to reason.
“Don’t care. I want you by my side where I know you’re safe. HR be damned.”
You find yourself smiling, heart tripping over itself in your chest.
“Okay,” You agree, “lead the way.”
He links his fingers with yours, and tugs you in the direction of the stairs. You know from your exploration of the building that the main power and UPS rooms are on the first floor, which is three or four floors below you.
Damn, at least you weren’t going up. Down would be a little easier on your feet, and the small manageable heel you’d worn today-
Your brain comes to a halt when he stops, two steps below you, turning, and looping his arm below your butt to lift you.
You gasp, brain sputtering for a moment as he continues moving down the stairs, not even a jolt going through you with how carefully he moves.
“I can walk!” You whisper-shout down at him.
He only had one arm supporting you, and he hadn’t even slowed down.
“I know!” He responds with sass, mimicking your tone.
“You’re soo not beating the kitty allegations.” You whisper quietly, pulling your laptop closer to your chest with one hand, the other bracing for balance against his shoulder.
He has the audacity to chuckle.
“Keep testing me sweetheart, and I’ll break every goddamned HR rule right here on these stairs with you.”
You make a small whimper of desire, mind running wild with all the possibilities.
“How can you even see?” You demand, wondering what excuse he’d find, “Aren’t you afraid you’ll trip and drop me?”
His hum sounds like one of amusement, not giving an answer.
“Hypothetically speaking, sweetheart, if I were what you say I am-”
“-You are.”
You can almost hear his eyes rolling.
“-What would you even do with that information?”
“Who says I have to do anything? Maybe I just want to support you.” You pause for a moment, deep in thought.
“It might be nice to know that someone like that is on my side.” You finish.
“Am I not enough?” His tone is flippant, but you know better.
Something cold and hard pierces your heart.
“No that’s not what I meant-” You rush out, shaking your head, “I’m sorry Billy. You are enough, you’re more than enough.”
The words have died a slow painful death in your throat. You frown as he turns onto his last flight of steps.
“I’m sorry,” You repeat earnestly, “I just meant- with every threat against me- it might be nice to know that the person on my side is not as easily hurt as I am.” You try to swallow the ache but it just won’t budge, “Because maybe the reality of it is that you can get hurt, and I don’t think I could live with that.”
When he gets to the first floor, he places you down gently, before he cups either side of your face, thumbs sweeping over your cheeks affectionately.
You drink in his comfort greedily, pressing your face to his palm, closing your eyes as you let the sensation of his presence soothe you.
“Don’t fret, sweetheart, not for me.”
You shake your head to silently disagree with the way his tone implies he’s not as important as you think he is.
“You mean a lot to me.” You murmur, looking up at him in the darkness.
.
In that moment, he wants to confess everything to you.
And if this was only about him- if it didn’t potentially risk Frank or Dinah- he might have.
Something inside of him aches so badly without you close, he dreads the distance he's encouraged.
He hears the growling of the panther in his head, so loudly that it drowns out every other sound for a moment.
He feels like he's been brought to his knees and the pretty eyes looking up at him are solely to blame.
He brings his hands up to cup your cheek, his eyes seeing clearly in the darkness, memorizing your face, and the way you look up at him with so much want.
Why was he doing this? Torturing you both by moving slowly when he finally had you in arms reach?
Your suspicions are right. I'm the panther that saved you all those months ago and you're my fated soulmate that I can't stop thinking about for a single second. Move in with me.
“Let’s have dinner.” He says instead.
He watches you blink, and glance away, and he knows he's fucking ruined something by avoiding the topic yet again.
“Okay…” you agree with a nod.
You turn, and you extend a hand, navigating the short distance to the door.
He doesn't want to end this here, and when you take a step away from him, he reaches out, and grabs your wrist.
He hears your breath catch, it echoes in the empty stairwell, music to his ears as he pulls your body against his.
He wants to apologize, to crumple like a man obsessed, give in to you so that you stop pulling away.
His breathing is sharp, the smell of strawberries all around him, everything about you- your hair, your eyes, your skin- all of it calling out to him in the most maddening way possible.
“Stop me.” He begs, as he drops his forehead to touch yours. Your eyes flutter closed as you enjoy the sensation of him.
How could you be upset with him and still be reaching out to him for comfort? Your hand squeezes his shoulder for a brief moment.
“Why would I do that?” You ask, tipping your head up, sharing the same breath with you, your mouths so close together that he could almost shake.
Inside his head, the beast rumbles, shows him images of you leaving him when you get tired of his lies.
“Because- I don't know how to stay in control around you.” The confession burns in his throat, he hates himself for this the most.
You give him a breathy laugh, your hand inching into his hair, delicate fingers tangling with the strands the way he knows your souls are tangled together.
“I don't want your control, Billy.” You say simply, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cupid's bow, “I never have.”
He shakes his head. You don't know what you're asking for and he can't explain it right now.
“It’s overrated anyway,” you say, drawing him into you, taking slow steps back until you trap yourself between his body and the wall, you tip your body slightly to place your laptop down, “What about us gives you the notion that we're in control?”
You're not in control either? He hopes he's the reason.
“We should be.” He says, eyebrows drawing together as the ache of terrible thoughts fills his head.
“Where's the fun in that?” You tease, lifting your head and closing the small space between your mouths.
He tries to quiet his groan but it echoes anyway, your mouth makes him greedy, cupping your face and holding you still so he can press scalding kisses to your mouth.
He hears a small sound leave your throat, and he knows he wants more of that, pressing into you, palming your hips to pin you to the wall with his.
He whispers your name, needs you to hear how desperate you make him, how quickly he would get on his knees and seat you on his face if you wanted.
You nod, humming, as if you can hear his thoughts and you agree wholeheartedly.
Arching into him, he can feel the swell of your breasts against his chest, he grips the fabric of your pants and wishes he could tear it right off of you without consequence.
He’s honed his sensitive hearing into the dark stairwell and the door right beside them, ready to move you at a moment’s notice, or just eradicate the person that dares to interrupt them.
You sigh into his mouth, fingers dancing over his cheek and well kept beard.
A small huff leaves your mouth, and he interprets the action as your desire to say something, drawing back just enough to allow you words.
“Are we really going to have sex in this stairwell? Where the sound echoes and anyone can walk in?”
He doesn’t need to breathe to know the idea of it arouses you further, he can hear it in the sharp uptick of your heart, the hastening of your breath, the way your grip tightens on his shoulder- daring him to consider stopping.
But his control is as thin as a piece of floss, further fraying with the sweet scent of your cunt, calling out to him.
He grins, and he hears your heart beat even faster, amusing the beast inside of him, who acknowledges that you like the way he looks when he smiles.
“I told you last time, sweetheart, if you tell me no, I won’t do it.”
.
You were definitely not going to say no.
“And if I say please?” You taunt, feeling all the control he gives you go straight to your cunt.
“Then I’ll do it twice.”
You laugh, giving him one last kiss before you face the wall.
He surrounds you in moments, kissing your neck, warm hands reaching under your shirt to cup your bra, tugging the material just low enough to skate his fingers across your stiffening nipples.
“Fuck.” You gasp into the darkness, tipping your head back, grinding back against him, feeling his stiff erection through your clothes.
Not a word is spoken between the two of you, but this want transcends words, it lies in the movement of your hips, in the unsteady shifting of two people trying to be as close as possible in a place they definitely shouldn’t be.
You take one of his hands, guiding it down between your thighs. You feel so hot there, and his fingers move over your clothed pussy experimentally, testing your reaction before his hands are sliding under the waistband of your pants.
You scramble to unbutton them, giving him more space to move his fingers, and he wastes no time gliding under your panties, finding your clit so easily, trapping the swollen bud between two fingers.
You press your lips together but a sound still leaves you, his mouth kissing at the side of your head.
You bring your other hand up, pressing into the side of his face. You feel him kiss the inside of your wrist, and that small act, while his fingers are expertly circling your clit, makes you lose any semblance of rationality.
You want him now, and you refuse to wait any more.
Finally, you find the will to speak. “Please fuck me.” You whisper, grinding your hips into his fingers.
He makes a low sound of protest, “I need to get you ready-”
You make a swift shake of your head, pushing any fabric around your hips down your legs, exposing your lower half to the open air except it doesn’t feel like it with his body pressed in right behind you.
You lean forward, bracing your hands on the wall and presenting your ass to him, groaning when you hear the quiet curse he sets free followed by the sound of his belt being undone.
You clench around nothing, very eager to wrap yourself around him, groaning softly as his cock rests on your ass when he leans in.
“Sure about this, sweetheart?” Billy asks bracing one arm beside you on the wall, and when it’s not enough he covers your hand, fingers interlocking with yours.
You don’t know how else to convey your desperation, nodding your head, pushing your hips back and forth, pleasure exploding in your head from the simplest touch of him.
He reaches down, warm breaths disturbing your hair as he notches the head of his cock against your entrance.
Your body resists at first, wet, but not quite relaxed enough. You hear him let out a shuddering breath, face pressed into your shoulder before he finds the strength to talk.
He doesn’t give you more than you can take as he works himself into you, moving with careful strokes as you grow used to his size.
It’s you that grows impatient first, and while he’s still being careful to make sure he doesn’t hurt you, you press back against him, pushing him to fill you to the brim very quickly.
Your breathing stutters, your walls clenching around him steadily as you feel yourself teetering on a weak orgasm.
“Fuck.” You breathe.
Your eyes roll back in your head, fighting the premature bliss, waiting till your pleasure is more manageable before you begin moving your hips.
The length of him fills every inch of you, and it’s hard to believe with how well you take him now, that you ever had any trouble to begin with.
There’s something perfect about your motions, it saps the strength from your arms till your face is pressed to the chilled wall, only able to move your hips in a slow yet purposeful rhythm.
He lets you take control, allows you to fuck back on his cock and use him for pleasure until your body is shaking and you can barely think.
“You.” He says lowly, his voice almost a grovel, drowning too deeply in pleasure to raise your head, you settle for turning your face just a little to let him know you’re listening.
“Look so perfect taking my cock like this.” He grunts.
A soft hum of thanks leaves you, and you press your hips back even more, body shaking with the overabundance of pleasure.
You feel different somehow, dictating the pace like this, an entirely sexual being chasing that high point with no care other than this.
You want to feel like this more, you want to explore this side of yourself in his bed, delivering pleasure to both of you completely bare to each other.
It’s not something you’re used to though, and after a few minutes, you’re unable to hold your pace.
Which is when you feel him take over. Your boyfriend.
His fingers tighten on your hips, in a way that you love even though you know it's going to bruise. You'll wear them with pride, enjoying the marks he gives you that show his claim.
His first thrust is deep, hard, the tip of his cock pressing right into that spot inside you that makes you tremble violently, tears springing to your eyes as you barely comprehend the pleasure.
He pants in your ear, trying to be quiet but you can hear how good it feels for him in the stuttering of his breath.
Your bodies meet with a slapping sound, you're almost ashamed at the way it echoes in the stairwell, the shame only making it that much sweeter.
Someone could find you here, pressed against this wall, sweat sticking your hair to your cheeks, taking your boss’ cock deep into your pussy…like a whore. The thought makes you clench, his grip tightening on your hips.
It pulls a smile onto your face, one he can't see, but his pace quickens and it's all you need to fall apart.
It isn't the most comfortable orgasm, but it hits you like a fucking truck all the same, body trembling, a whimper you can't restrain leaving your mouth, and your eyes rolling back in your head in the darkness.
His hips stutter, and you feel his cock pulse, cum coating your greedy walls, tightening at the sensation of his release.
Billy gasps into your ear, trying to catch his breath, pressing his forehead to your temple. After a few short moments, the reality of what you've just done makes you laugh.
You turn your head to catch sight of him properly, a warm look on his face as you meet his eyes.
“I can't believe we just did that.” You whisper, his cock still deep inside of you, still pulsing, one of his hands release your hip, sliding over your womb, the sensation soothing you in a way you don't quite understand but you don’t fight it.
His smile deepens.
“I can't resist you.” He whispers, “I don't want to.”
You tip your chin up, and he leans in for a kiss.
.
…And after all of that, you're expected to work.
Sore from all your vigorous activities, legs wobbly and heart pounding just a little bit harder than usual, you suck in deep slow breaths as you listen to the sheer incompetence that happened to cause the power outage.
You glance at Billy, his stoic features as he listens, a touch of displeasure on the set of his brows and the only thought on your mind is how badly you want him.
….again.
How much sex could you have before your body gave up? You had a general idea from your second night together, but you wanted to push that even now.
You're a little distracted that you miss a bit of the explanation, only zoning back in when you feel that the conversation is about you.
“-only warned us about a possible test, maybe not the exact time, we might have been a little bit more ready.”
You blink, a world of thoughts going through your head and you're sure it shows on your face.
These dumbasses… pulled all the power… from all of the systems… and are trying to blame you for it?
You turn your head away, acting like you’re clearing your throat as your face breaks into a ridiculous grin.
“I don’t know why you think this is funny.” Keith, one of the associates working under Phil says aggressively.
You can’t help it, your shoulders start shaking as you laugh, holding up a finger as you turn away fully, dropping your head, trying really hard to pull yourself together.
It was really unprofessional of you, especially in front of the company's CEO, but you literally couldn't help it, you were running on such little sleep that your mind might have snapped into delirium, finding humor in what would most likely be a ton of work to ensure that all the systems were back online like normal.
And somehow… it was your fault.
Typical.
You turn back to the group of three men, dabbing at the corner of your eyes where tears of laughter have formed, no longer trying to hide your expressions.
“Sorry, just trying to understand which part of the SOP says to panic and cut all power to the building.”
Keith doesn’t say anything, but his eyes narrow sharply on you, and you realise that by saying this in Billy’s presence, you’ve made an enemy of him.
Evidently, he’d have to get in line.
Beside you, something in Billy shifts- you can almost feel it in the air, a tension that prolongs the silence. You keep your eyes on Keith as his focus shifts from you to the predator in a man’s body beside you.
“That’s a fair point.” His deep voice sounds calm, but there’s an undercurrent of warning, something you’re not sure is tangible enough for Keith to notice, or if to him, something just feels off.
“Who authorised a full shutdown?” He continues, and you watch as both men stiffen, avoiding eye contact and choosing to count the eyelets on their shoes instead.
You weren’t sure if his silent support of you was intentional or not, but it was definitely hot as fuck. To have him on your side, defending you, trusting in your word, it felt like something beautifully unfamiliar, but very welcome.
Your body warms, you glance away as your core tightens eagerly, as though you hadn’t just taken him in the stairwell moments before. God, you’d become so fucking insatiable for him.
The lights coming on distracts you from your thoughts, just as Phil comes back into the room with the head of maintenance. You don’t like the way their eyes both land on you, some sort of accusation there, that this was your fault.
You clear your throat, eager to get out of there.
“Okay, I’m gonna go check out the server rooms, make sure everything is coming online.” Laptop tight in hand, you look at Phil for approval. He gives you a small nod.
“Why don’t you go with her, Danny, in case she needs something.” Phil says, and in your peripherals you see Danny, who was the guy standing beside Keith, shrug, with a small ‘Sure’ of acceptance.
You don’t look in Billy’s direction as you turn, and leave the room.
.
He really didn’t like watching you leave with another man. The panther growled in his head, at the sight of Danny following you out the door.
He knew he couldn’t follow, that he had to stay behind and listen to these men fumble through their mistakes. The smell of you lingered- strawberries and your combined releases had made you a potent aphrodisiac, and the predator was desperate to breathe you in.
The shifters on his team would no doubt realize you were with him, and the men on security duty on the day of the elevator incident, and of course Katerina, with her knowing eyes- but no one else could know.
“If we’re running full-scale tests like this, I feel like my team needs to be included in the planning stage.” Phil says calmly.
Billy sees it for what it is- a subtle jab at you and your methods.
“That’s irrelevant at this point, a building- wide power drop isn’t a standard response.” Which brings about a strange itch in his head.
Glancing at Keith, “Who actually pulled the power?” He asks.
Keith raises his hands, “Wasn’t me, when the attack started, it looked bad, I heard a couple of guys suggest it, and then the power was out. I figured one of them must have.”
“Then what are you doing down here?” Billy follows with, listening to the man’s heart race with anxiety.
“I just came down to help.” Keith answers, sounding genuine.
Billy doesn’t say anything else, simply turning to walk out the door. He listens to Keith let out a sigh of relief.
“That fucker’s intense.” Keith says to Phil.
Phil lets out a hum of acknowledgement, “Do you know who pulled the power?”
“Yeah, didn’t want to throw him under the bus, but I think it was Danny. He’s still learning, we were isolating the server cluster for shutdown… he must have misread the control panel I guess.”
“We’ll deal with that later, why don’t you check each floor for any issues?”
Warnings: Predator/Prey vibes, Serial killers, stalking, smut, minors DNI, Soulmate trope, protector vibes, anxiety, angst. Specific warnings come before each part.
Warnings: Anxiety, work drama, public sex, unprotected sex, zero prep.
A/N: Please love me still thanks bye
Everything is fine.
I am definitely not scared.
You gather the sheets around you, bunching it up as you bring your knees to your chest.
Nothing is wrong, it’s just in your head, it’s all in your head.
It was safe to say your first night back in your apartment wasn’t going well.
You’d been too insistent, too believable, smiling and reassuring Billy that you would be okay, that he was just a house away if you needed him.
Damn, you needed him.
I can hold out, I’ll settle in a minute.
He’d left you about an hour ago, after walking you here, and running through some quick improvements he’d done to keep your apartment more secure.
The windows are sealed, the doors are double bolted, there are cameras focused on the hallways outside your door being monitored constantly by his security team. He’s not far if you need him, he’ll come running if you call.
Still… it feels like you’re not alone.
Like there’s something lurking… watching… waiting for you to relax, to drop your guard, so that it can reach out from the darkness around your bed and drag you into the depths.
You shudder.
The windows are sealed, the doors are double bolted, there are cameras focused on the hallways outside your door being monitored constantly by his security team. He’s not far if you need him, he’ll come running if you call.
You should call.
Fuck, but you don’t want to give up so easily, you don’t want to surrender to the fear, to prove the stalker right- you don’t want to be weak.
The doors are bolted. The doors are bolted. The doors are bolted.
He’d come running if you call.
Your fingers reach for the panther hanging around your neck. Each breath you take is more unsure than the last.
What if he didn’t come when you called?
Should you try taking something to help you sleep? No- something could happen and you wouldn’t be able to wake up.
You close your eyes but the darkness gets in closer, and when you open them, the room has less light in it than before.
It’ll pass, it’ll go away. I just have to make it through tonight.
Fuck, you should keep the lights on.
He’d shown you hiding spots. Your closet, under your bed, places you could get to that would buy you time for him to get to you.
But your thinking was irrational, and you knew it.
What if someone gets in?
What if they’re already inside? The shadows at the corner of your room take shape into a human-like form. You stare at it, unable to blink, trying to ascertain whether there was a real person there or not.
No, no, Billy swept the place and though he refuses to admit it, he must have used superhuman abilities to do so.
Google says there’s advanced hearing, and sensitive smell, he’d know.
The windows are sealed, the doors are double bolted, there are cameras focused on the hallways outside your door being monitored constantly by his security team. He’s not far if you need him, he’ll come running if you call.
You wanted the panther. The sleek black predator that would lie beside you, let you curl into him, and watch over you while you slept.
The dangerous, lethal beast that wouldn’t harm a hair on your head, but would tear limbs off the people that wanted to hurt you.
Why couldn’t he give that to you? Admit that he was who you already knew he was.
Why couldn’t he trust you?
Your doors were bolted, your windows sealed, and all you wanted was that damned predator of a man sleeping beside you.
.
“You didn’t sleep.” Billy notes when he sees you the next morning, standing outside, waiting for you beside his car.
You resist the extra snarky response, your eyelids feeling impossibly heavy as you glance up at him.
“Thanks.” you murmur, reaching for your sunglasses, a migraine threatening to form behind your right eye.
You tug the passenger door open, and his hand immediately pushes it closed.
You resist the groan of annoyance, turning your head to look at him.
“You should have called me.”
You let out a sigh of defeat.
“I thought I could handle it.”
He pauses for a long moment, and you spend the time studying his hand, pressed to the door.
You long to be touched by him, but what you long for even harder is to be told the truth, so that you have the chance to know him, really know the entire person, than just the stoic, occasionally romantic man he gives to you right now.
You want too much, you think.
“I don’t enjoy seeing you like this.” He finally confesses, and something in your chest tightens because of it.
You close your eyes, sucking in a deep breath to get the venom of your thoughts under control.
“It has to happen.” You finally say, “Recovery isn’t easy, and the alternative is over-dependency on you.”
“There are other ways- more gradual ways.” He leans in, his chest pressing to the back of your shoulder, you feel your body relax involuntarily as his scent wraps around you.
He reaches for your hand with the one not pressed to the car. You feel your fingers interlock with his. He leans in, and presses a soft kiss to your neck.
You hum, tilting your head to give him more access, sharp tingles erupting from the feel of his warm lips on your skin.
“Promise me you’ll call next time.” Billy whispers, you can feel the brush of his lips as he speaks the words, his nose gliding up the column of your neck to right below your ear.
Common sense tries to break into your thoughts, reminding you that you’re on the sidewalk of a not so busy street. Anyone could be watching.
The nonsensical part of your head tells you that nothing matters when he’s by your side.
“Okay.” You say, and if you’re totally honest with yourself, you don’t even understand what you’re agreeing to.
“Thank you.” he places one final kiss to your cheek before he moves his arm from bracing the door to allow you to open it.
As previously discussed, this is my official correspondence informing you that there will be a security simulated threat carried out on Thursday at 12pm.
I have attached documents highlighting the scope of my simulation and the anticipated response time and protocol.
This simulation is expected to last approximately two hours and expected impacts are as follows:
Alerts to be triggered in monitoring systems.
A temporary increase in network activity.
Interruption of IT workflows while the team investigates and responds.
No actual threats will be introduced and no permanent impact on systems or data is expected. All security system configurations and data have been backed up in duplicate to avoid any loss of information.
A post-simulation report will be provided to review findings and recommendations.
Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions on the subject matter.
When the lights go out five minutes into your security simulation, you freeze.
That, was definitely not part of the plan.
You straighten in the darkness, trying to fight off the initial wave of panic that flushes through your entire system.
Someone turns on the flashlight on their phone, but it’s not enough, and you find yourself standing, in an attempt to find the nearest window and secure yourself to it until the lights come on.
“The back up generator should have kicked on by now.” You hear someone say to another in the darkness, and you blink, realising the accuracy of the statement.
You remain outwardly calm, closing your laptop and scooping it under your arm, using the light of your phone screen to navigate toward the door.
You hear running in the hallway outside, and you pause, sticking your head out, squinting into the darkness for any signs of trouble.
What on earth was going on? Should you find Billy? You step into the hallway, determined to find the stairwell. The area is dark, and it terrifies you, but the anxiety that this power outage could be your fault overrules the fear of a potential threat in the building.
Maybe it was coincidental, maybe the power failure had nothing to do with you.
You hold onto that hope as you push the door to the stairwell open. It swings much faster than you push, and you gasp in surprise as you realise it’s being pulled open from the other side.
Your heart jumps into your throat, a precursor to a scream manifests as a sharp breath before a familiar hand is clamping over your mouth and pulling you into the darkness.
“It’s me, sweetheart, shhh.” You hear his rushed voice as he tries to reassure you. Oak and jasmine fills your nose and your panic halts as you realise who it is.
“Billy.” You murmur happily, throwing yourself into his arms, still trying to hold onto your laptop, crushed between you as you embrace each other.
“I’m right here,” he reassures, “Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m okay.” You shake your head burying your face into the collar of his shirt and sighing blissfully as you enjoy the feel of him, “What’s going on?”
He brings a hand up to cup the back of your head, his thumb gently stroking the spot right below your ear as you hear him take a deep breath into your hair.
Was he smelling you? Could he breathe in and know how anxious you were?
“All I know is that power went out when I was in my office. The first thing I did was find you.”
“You ran down five flights of stairs in two minutes in the dark?” You challenge. He wasn’t even out of breath, you could hear his uncharactaristically slow heart as you shift your head to press your ear to his chest.
“What,” Billy murmurs, humour filling his tone, “like it’s hard?”
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head, his hands roam over your back and hips softly, as if feeling each part of you in the darkness comes second nature to him.
“You should probably find out what’s going on. I’ll wait down here-”
“-No,” he interrupts, “Until the power comes back, you’re safer with me.”
You raise your eyebrows, turning your head to look up at him, barely making out his facial features in the darkness.
“That will look suspicious.” You try to reason.
“Don’t care. I want you by my side where I know you’re safe. HR be damned.”
You find yourself smiling, heart tripping over itself in your chest.
“Okay,” You agree, “lead the way.”
He links his fingers with yours, and tugs you in the direction of the stairs. You know from your exploration of the building that the main power and UPS rooms are on the first floor, which is three or four floors below you.
Damn, at least you weren’t going up. Down would be a little easier on your feet, and the small manageable heel you’d worn today-
Your brain comes to a halt when he stops, two steps below you, turning, and looping his arm below your butt to lift you.
You gasp, brain sputtering for a moment as he continues moving down the stairs, not even a jolt going through you with how carefully he moves.
“I can walk!” You whisper-shout down at him.
He only had one arm supporting you, and he hadn’t even slowed down.
“I know!” He responds with sass, mimicking your tone.
“You’re soo not beating the kitty allegations.” You whisper quietly, pulling your laptop closer to your chest with one hand, the other bracing for balance against his shoulder.
He has the audacity to chuckle.
“Keep testing me sweetheart, and I’ll break every goddamned HR rule right here on these stairs with you.”
You make a small whimper of desire, mind running wild with all the possibilities.
“How can you even see?” You demand, wondering what excuse he’d find, “Aren’t you afraid you’ll trip and drop me?”
His hum sounds like one of amusement, not giving an answer.
“Hypothetically speaking, sweetheart, if I were what you say I am-”
“-You are.”
You can almost hear his eyes rolling.
“-What would you even do with that information?”
“Who says I have to do anything? Maybe I just want to support you.” You pause for a moment, deep in thought.
“It might be nice to know that someone like that is on my side.” You finish.
“Am I not enough?” His tone is flippant, but you know better.
Something cold and hard pierces your heart.
“No that’s not what I meant-” You rush out, shaking your head, “I’m sorry Billy. You are enough, you’re more than enough.”
The words have died a slow painful death in your throat. You frown as he turns onto his last flight of steps.
“I’m sorry,” You repeat earnestly, “I just meant- with every threat against me- it might be nice to know that the person on my side is not as easily hurt as I am.” You try to swallow the ache but it just won’t budge, “Because maybe the reality of it is that you can get hurt, and I don’t think I could live with that.”
When he gets to the first floor, he places you down gently, before he cups either side of your face, thumbs sweeping over your cheeks affectionately.
You drink in his comfort greedily, pressing your face to his palm, closing your eyes as you let the sensation of his presence soothe you.
“Don’t fret, sweetheart, not for me.”
You shake your head to silently disagree with the way his tone implies he’s not as important as you think he is.
“You mean a lot to me.” You murmur, looking up at him in the darkness.
.
In that moment, he wants to confess everything to you.
And if this was only about him- if it didn’t potentially risk Frank or Dinah- he might have.
Something inside of him aches so badly without you close, he dreads the distance he's encouraged.
He hears the growling of the panther in his head, so loudly that it drowns out every other sound for a moment.
He feels like he's been brought to his knees and the pretty eyes looking up at him are solely to blame.
He brings his hands up to cup your cheek, his eyes seeing clearly in the darkness, memorizing your face, and the way you look up at him with so much want.
Why was he doing this? Torturing you both by moving slowly when he finally had you in arms reach?
Your suspicions are right. I'm the panther that saved you all those months ago and you're my fated soulmate that I can't stop thinking about for a single second. Move in with me.
“Let’s have dinner.” He says instead.
He watches you blink, and glance away, and he knows he's fucking ruined something by avoiding the topic yet again.
“Okay…” you agree with a nod.
You turn, and you extend a hand, navigating the short distance to the door.
He doesn't want to end this here, and when you take a step away from him, he reaches out, and grabs your wrist.
He hears your breath catch, it echoes in the empty stairwell, music to his ears as he pulls your body against his.
He wants to apologize, to crumple like a man obsessed, give in to you so that you stop pulling away.
His breathing is sharp, the smell of strawberries all around him, everything about you- your hair, your eyes, your skin- all of it calling out to him in the most maddening way possible.
“Stop me.” He begs, as he drops his forehead to touch yours. Your eyes flutter closed as you enjoy the sensation of him.
How could you be upset with him and still be reaching out to him for comfort? Your hand squeezes his shoulder for a brief moment.
“Why would I do that?” You ask, tipping your head up, sharing the same breath with you, your mouths so close together that he could almost shake.
Inside his head, the beast rumbles, shows him images of you leaving him when you get tired of his lies.
“Because- I don't know how to stay in control around you.” The confession burns in his throat, he hates himself for this the most.
You give him a breathy laugh, your hand inching into his hair, delicate fingers tangling with the strands the way he knows your souls are tangled together.
“I don't want your control, Billy.” You say simply, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cupid's bow, “I never have.”
He shakes his head. You don't know what you're asking for and he can't explain it right now.
“It’s overrated anyway,” you say, drawing him into you, taking slow steps back until you trap yourself between his body and the wall, you tip your body slightly to place your laptop down, “What about us gives you the notion that we're in control?”
You're not in control either? He hopes he's the reason.
“We should be.” He says, eyebrows drawing together as the ache of terrible thoughts fills his head.
“Where's the fun in that?” You tease, lifting your head and closing the small space between your mouths.
He tries to quiet his groan but it echoes anyway, your mouth makes him greedy, cupping your face and holding you still so he can press scalding kisses to your mouth.
He hears a small sound leave your throat, and he knows he wants more of that, pressing into you, palming your hips to pin you to the wall with his.
He whispers your name, needs you to hear how desperate you make him, how quickly he would get on his knees and seat you on his face if you wanted.
You nod, humming, as if you can hear his thoughts and you agree wholeheartedly.
Arching into him, he can feel the swell of your breasts against his chest, he grips the fabric of your pants and wishes he could tear it right off of you without consequence.
He’s honed his sensitive hearing into the dark stairwell and the door right beside them, ready to move you at a moment’s notice, or just eradicate the person that dares to interrupt them.
You sigh into his mouth, fingers dancing over his cheek and well kept beard.
A small huff leaves your mouth, and he interprets the action as your desire to say something, drawing back just enough to allow you words.
“Are we really going to have sex in this stairwell? Where the sound echoes and anyone can walk in?”
He doesn’t need to breathe to know the idea of it arouses you further, he can hear it in the sharp uptick of your heart, the hastening of your breath, the way your grip tightens on his shoulder- daring him to consider stopping.
But his control is as thin as a piece of floss, further fraying with the sweet scent of your cunt, calling out to him.
He grins, and he hears your heart beat even faster, amusing the beast inside of him, who acknowledges that you like the way he looks when he smiles.
“I told you last time, sweetheart, if you tell me no, I won’t do it.”
.
You were definitely not going to say no.
“And if I say please?” You taunt, feeling all the control he gives you go straight to your cunt.
“Then I’ll do it twice.”
You laugh, giving him one last kiss before you face the wall.
He surrounds you in moments, kissing your neck, warm hands reaching under your shirt to cup your bra, tugging the material just low enough to skate his fingers across your stiffening nipples.
“Fuck.” You gasp into the darkness, tipping your head back, grinding back against him, feeling his stiff erection through your clothes.
Not a word is spoken between the two of you, but this want transcends words, it lies in the movement of your hips, in the unsteady shifting of two people trying to be as close as possible in a place they definitely shouldn’t be.
You take one of his hands, guiding it down between your thighs. You feel so hot there, and his fingers move over your clothed pussy experimentally, testing your reaction before his hands are sliding under the waistband of your pants.
You scramble to unbutton them, giving him more space to move his fingers, and he wastes no time gliding under your panties, finding your clit so easily, trapping the swollen bud between two fingers.
You press your lips together but a sound still leaves you, his mouth kissing at the side of your head.
You bring your other hand up, pressing into the side of his face. You feel him kiss the inside of your wrist, and that small act, while his fingers are expertly circling your clit, makes you lose any semblance of rationality.
You want him now, and you refuse to wait any more.
Finally, you find the will to speak. “Please fuck me.” You whisper, grinding your hips into his fingers.
He makes a low sound of protest, “I need to get you ready-”
You make a swift shake of your head, pushing any fabric around your hips down your legs, exposing your lower half to the open air except it doesn’t feel like it with his body pressed in right behind you.
You lean forward, bracing your hands on the wall and presenting your ass to him, groaning when you hear the quiet curse he sets free followed by the sound of his belt being undone.
You clench around nothing, very eager to wrap yourself around him, groaning softly as his cock rests on your ass when he leans in.
“Sure about this, sweetheart?” Billy asks bracing one arm beside you on the wall, and when it’s not enough he covers your hand, fingers interlocking with yours.
You don’t know how else to convey your desperation, nodding your head, pushing your hips back and forth, pleasure exploding in your head from the simplest touch of him.
He reaches down, warm breaths disturbing your hair as he notches the head of his cock against your entrance.
Your body resists at first, wet, but not quite relaxed enough. You hear him let out a shuddering breath, face pressed into your shoulder before he finds the strength to talk.
He doesn’t give you more than you can take as he works himself into you, moving with careful strokes as you grow used to his size.
It’s you that grows impatient first, and while he’s still being careful to make sure he doesn’t hurt you, you press back against him, pushing him to fill you to the brim very quickly.
Your breathing stutters, your walls clenching around him steadily as you feel yourself teetering on a weak orgasm.
“Fuck.” You breathe.
Your eyes roll back in your head, fighting the premature bliss, waiting till your pleasure is more manageable before you begin moving your hips.
The length of him fills every inch of you, and it’s hard to believe with how well you take him now, that you ever had any trouble to begin with.
There’s something perfect about your motions, it saps the strength from your arms till your face is pressed to the chilled wall, only able to move your hips in a slow yet purposeful rhythm.
He lets you take control, allows you to fuck back on his cock and use him for pleasure until your body is shaking and you can barely think.
“You.” He says lowly, his voice almost a grovel, drowning too deeply in pleasure to raise your head, you settle for turning your face just a little to let him know you’re listening.
“Look so perfect taking my cock like this.” He grunts.
A soft hum of thanks leaves you, and you press your hips back even more, body shaking with the overabundance of pleasure.
You feel different somehow, dictating the pace like this, an entirely sexual being chasing that high point with no care other than this.
You want to feel like this more, you want to explore this side of yourself in his bed, delivering pleasure to both of you completely bare to each other.
It’s not something you’re used to though, and after a few minutes, you’re unable to hold your pace.
Which is when you feel him take over. Your boyfriend.
His fingers tighten on your hips, in a way that you love even though you know it's going to bruise. You'll wear them with pride, enjoying the marks he gives you that show his claim.
His first thrust is deep, hard, the tip of his cock pressing right into that spot inside you that makes you tremble violently, tears springing to your eyes as you barely comprehend the pleasure.
He pants in your ear, trying to be quiet but you can hear how good it feels for him in the stuttering of his breath.
Your bodies meet with a slapping sound, you're almost ashamed at the way it echoes in the stairwell, the shame only making it that much sweeter.
Someone could find you here, pressed against this wall, sweat sticking your hair to your cheeks, taking your boss’ cock deep into your pussy…like a whore. The thought makes you clench, his grip tightening on your hips.
It pulls a smile onto your face, one he can't see, but his pace quickens and it's all you need to fall apart.
It isn't the most comfortable orgasm, but it hits you like a fucking truck all the same, body trembling, a whimper you can't restrain leaving your mouth, and your eyes rolling back in your head in the darkness.
His hips stutter, and you feel his cock pulse, cum coating your greedy walls, tightening at the sensation of his release.
Billy gasps into your ear, trying to catch his breath, pressing his forehead to your temple. After a few short moments, the reality of what you've just done makes you laugh.
You turn your head to catch sight of him properly, a warm look on his face as you meet his eyes.
“I can't believe we just did that.” You whisper, his cock still deep inside of you, still pulsing, one of his hands release your hip, sliding over your womb, the sensation soothing you in a way you don't quite understand but you don’t fight it.
His smile deepens.
“I can't resist you.” He whispers, “I don't want to.”
You tip your chin up, and he leans in for a kiss.
.
…And after all of that, you're expected to work.
Sore from all your vigorous activities, legs wobbly and heart pounding just a little bit harder than usual, you suck in deep slow breaths as you listen to the sheer incompetence that happened to cause the power outage.
You glance at Billy, his stoic features as he listens, a touch of displeasure on the set of his brows and the only thought on your mind is how badly you want him.
….again.
How much sex could you have before your body gave up? You had a general idea from your second night together, but you wanted to push that even now.
You're a little distracted that you miss a bit of the explanation, only zoning back in when you feel that the conversation is about you.
“-only warned us about a possible test, maybe not the exact time, we might have been a little bit more ready.”
You blink, a world of thoughts going through your head and you're sure it shows on your face.
These dumbasses… pulled all the power… from all of the systems… and are trying to blame you for it?
You turn your head away, acting like you’re clearing your throat as your face breaks into a ridiculous grin.
“I don’t know why you think this is funny.” Keith, one of the associates working under Phil says aggressively.
You can’t help it, your shoulders start shaking as you laugh, holding up a finger as you turn away fully, dropping your head, trying really hard to pull yourself together.
It was really unprofessional of you, especially in front of the company's CEO, but you literally couldn't help it, you were running on such little sleep that your mind might have snapped into delirium, finding humor in what would most likely be a ton of work to ensure that all the systems were back online like normal.
And somehow… it was your fault.
Typical.
You turn back to the group of three men, dabbing at the corner of your eyes where tears of laughter have formed, no longer trying to hide your expressions.
“Sorry, just trying to understand which part of the SOP says to panic and cut all power to the building.”
Keith doesn’t say anything, but his eyes narrow sharply on you, and you realise that by saying this in Billy’s presence, you’ve made an enemy of him.
Evidently, he’d have to get in line.
Beside you, something in Billy shifts- you can almost feel it in the air, a tension that prolongs the silence. You keep your eyes on Keith as his focus shifts from you to the predator in a man’s body beside you.
“That’s a fair point.” His deep voice sounds calm, but there’s an undercurrent of warning, something you’re not sure is tangible enough for Keith to notice, or if to him, something just feels off.
“Who authorised a full shutdown?” He continues, and you watch as both men stiffen, avoiding eye contact and choosing to count the eyelets on their shoes instead.
You weren’t sure if his silent support of you was intentional or not, but it was definitely hot as fuck. To have him on your side, defending you, trusting in your word, it felt like something beautifully unfamiliar, but very welcome.
Your body warms, you glance away as your core tightens eagerly, as though you hadn’t just taken him in the stairwell moments before. God, you’d become so fucking insatiable for him.
The lights coming on distracts you from your thoughts, just as Phil comes back into the room with the head of maintenance. You don’t like the way their eyes both land on you, some sort of accusation there, that this was your fault.
You clear your throat, eager to get out of there.
“Okay, I’m gonna go check out the server rooms, make sure everything is coming online.” Laptop tight in hand, you look at Phil for approval. He gives you a small nod.
“Why don’t you go with her, Danny, in case she needs something.” Phil says, and in your peripherals you see Danny, who was the guy standing beside Keith, shrug, with a small ‘Sure’ of acceptance.
You don’t look in Billy’s direction as you turn, and leave the room.
.
He really didn’t like watching you leave with another man. The panther growled in his head, at the sight of Danny following you out the door.
He knew he couldn’t follow, that he had to stay behind and listen to these men fumble through their mistakes. The smell of you lingered- strawberries and your combined releases had made you a potent aphrodisiac, and the predator was desperate to breathe you in.
The shifters on his team would no doubt realize you were with him, and the men on security duty on the day of the elevator incident, and of course Katerina, with her knowing eyes- but no one else could know.
“If we’re running full-scale tests like this, I feel like my team needs to be included in the planning stage.” Phil says calmly.
Billy sees it for what it is- a subtle jab at you and your methods.
“That’s irrelevant at this point, a building- wide power drop isn’t a standard response.” Which brings about a strange itch in his head.
Glancing at Keith, “Who actually pulled the power?” He asks.
Keith raises his hands, “Wasn’t me, when the attack started, it looked bad, I heard a couple of guys suggest it, and then the power was out. I figured one of them must have.”
“Then what are you doing down here?” Billy follows with, listening to the man’s heart race with anxiety.
“I just came down to help.” Keith answers, sounding genuine.
Billy doesn’t say anything else, simply turning to walk out the door. He listens to Keith let out a sigh of relief.
“That fucker’s intense.” Keith says to Phil.
Phil lets out a hum of acknowledgement, “Do you know who pulled the power?”
“Yeah, didn’t want to throw him under the bus, but I think it was Danny. He’s still learning, we were isolating the server cluster for shutdown… he must have misread the control panel I guess.”
“We’ll deal with that later, why don’t you check each floor for any issues?”
Warnings: Predator/Prey vibes, Serial killers, stalking, smut, minors DNI, Soulmate trope, protector vibes, anxiety, angst. Specific warnings come before each part.
Dark!Frank Castle, Dark Priest! Billy Russo, Dark Priest!Matt Murdock
Warnings: Blasphemy, corruption, masturbation (in a church), spit kink.
A/N: @ittybxttykxttytxtty I will out boop you
“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.”
You touch four points on your body, symbolising the cross.
“It has been years since my last confession, I thought I had put this behind me.”
“It's alright, dear child, what has been done, can always be forgiven.”
You stiffen, heart hammering. This wasn't the priest you were used to. This voice was unfamiliar, alluring, and much warmer than you'd ever heard it before.
You hesitate now, because if you confessed your sins, he would know that he'd been right about you from the very start.
“Are you there?” Father Murdock calls.
“Yes, sorry, it's not easy to say.” You answer.
“Speak, little one, and I will not cast judgement.”
The spot between your thighs tingle at his words, did he know it was you?
“I have been experiencing… desire.”
“Desire in itself is not inherently sinful. In what form has this desire manifested within you?”
You let out a shaky breath.”
“I- try my best not to… let my thoughts run, but I still feel it.”
“Suppressing desire often only makes them stronger, like trying to hold a rushing river with your bare hands.”
You nod in understanding, letting out a frustrated breath.
“Why am I made this way, Father?” You ask, your throat tightening.
“Don’t fret, little one, you are not defined only by your weaknesses and temptations, you are worth more than that.”
“And what if- what if I’ve allowed these desires to manifest?”
There’s a long silence.
“What do you mean?”
You dip your head in shame, remembering the ways Billy’s hands felt on your body, the way Frank’s tongue had been haunting you into avoiding him.
“My body responds eagerly to touch, and I- it takes me longer than I’d care to admit to stop.”
You squeeze your eyes shut.
“Tell me about these touches.” His warm voice relaxes you, despite the uncomfortable topic of conversation.
“Something as simple as a hand on my cheek, and my body tingles more than I can comprehend.”
“I see, and do you ever, chase these feelings?”
“D-do you mean- when I am alone?”
“Yes, do you explore the depth of your urges?”
“No, I pray.”
He lets out a hum, deep in thought.
“I worry that the normal ways of dealing with this desire would only make things worse for you. I might suggest to immerse yourself in prayer, but my concern is that this makes it worse.”
“So, your suggestion is-?”
“Think of your desire as a sealed pot that’s building pressure, if left untouched, will explode, however, slowly easing the pressure over time, is more likely to prevent something catastrophic.”
You blink.
“So-?”
“Touch yourself, little one.” He utters, in no hidden terms, “Allow yourself to feel what your body craves and maybe it will discourage you from seeking out others.”
You gasp, curling your hands into fists.
“No one’s ever suggested this before. How do I even begin?”
“Your body knows where it wants to be touched. Don’t be afraid of yourself.”
“Okay,” You breathe out, “Okay.”
You wait a moment, to see if he will move first, but he doesn't, and you slip out easily from the dark wooden booth.
.
A soft groan makes you stop, and you pause, committing the sound to memory, wondering if being in such a small space was difficult on Father Matthew, or perhaps the topic of conversation was one he heard so often that it had exhausted him.
You don't follow through with Father Murdock's suggestion at first.
Instead you carry on like you usually do, kneeling before bed and drowning yourself in prayer. When the storms come during the night, you find that you can't sleep, donning your daily wear without the restrictive underclothing, and heading out to the church.
It takes you some time to get there, dodging the rain and occasionally using the scarf you'd grabbed to protect yourself from the showers.
When you finally make it, you're only a little damp, your hair spilling out from under your veil, your dress dripping from the knees down.
You take a moment to dry yourself off, grabbing some items to help you light the candles that have no doubt gone out during the day.
When you step in, you note several people kneeled at the pews, praying. You smile quietly to yourself, moving to the far right where the candles are.
Quite a bit have gone out during the day, and you begin slowly, hanging onto good intentions as you light each wick.
It calms you, eases the ache, you hum to yourself, wishing you could feel like this always.
By the time you're finished, you think almost everyone has gone, and you feel more comfortable moving into the main area of the church.
You pause suddenly when at the front of the church, you find Frank and Billy talking quietly to each other.
Any sense of peace you had, locks up, remembering the feel of Billy’s lips on yours, the way Frank's tongue had traced your inner thigh- you suck in a deep breath and tried to manage your emotions.
Just as you contemplate turning around, Frank raises his head, and looks right at you.
Your body forces your legs to begin moving as normal, smiling at both men politely when Billy finally turns his head to look at you too. Your heart pounds, watching as both men approach you right as you get to your normal pew in the second row.
“Father Russo, Mister Castle, how nice to see you both.” You nod in greeting.
“How nice indeed,” Frank says, and you blink up at him, surprised to find such a mischievous look in his eye.
Billy steps up to place a chaste kiss of greeting on your cheek, but your eyes remain locked on Frank's.
“Are you here to pray? Would you like some company?” Billy offers, glancing at Frank, who nods in approval.
“Oh, that's alright, I don't want to take you away from whatever you were doing.”
“Nonsense,” Frank's voice rumbles over you, stepping into the pew you were going into, “It's no trouble.”
With Billy behind you and Frank in front, you have no choice but to step in, standing between both men for a moment before smiling politely and lowering yourself to your knees onto the soft cushioned bar before you.
You glance up at both men expectantly, watching them share an odd look before kneeling beside you, a little too close for your comfort.
Your arms brush theirs, you can't help but notice Frank's size in comparison to you, and the way Billy's fingers look as he links them together.
“In the name of the father, the son, the holy spirit.” Billy murmurs, and you squeeze your eyes shut automatically, years of training kicking in.
Focusing is hard, when you can feel the presence of both men on either side of you.
You suck in a deep breath, huffing when you catch the faintest hint of sage in the air, reminding you of breathing in Frank's scent from his thick jacket. You tilt your head away, but all that does is allow what you think is Billy’s soft oud scent to reach you instead.
You accidentally groan too loudly, frustrated.
“Is everything alright?” Billy asks, noticing that something was amiss.
“Yes, I- I'm- “
You gasp when Frank presses the back of his hand to your temple.
“You're burning up, sweetheart, are you sure?” He asks, voice laced with concern.
You can feel the ghost of his touch on your skin when he pulls away, your face tingles.
“I'm sorry- I- It’s nothing really- I just haven't- I was supposed to-” You glance at Billy, watching his eyebrows furrow in confusion.
You huff, realising that an explanation would be necessary to get yourself out of this one.
“I went to confession earlier this week, and I just, I've been having some trouble.”
Frank's hand smooths over your back.
“Would you like to talk about it? Maybe we can help.”
You bow your head in shame.
“It's just that the priest I spoke with- he told me to… help myself… so that I wouldn't be tempted by others.”
“Help yourself…” Billy murmurs in thought, “Do you mean… touch yourself?”
You swallow, nodding swiftly, aching to melt into the ground.
“And what's the problem, sweetheart?” Frank's voice interjects, “What's wrong?”
You look up at him with glassy eyes, glancing at Billy who gives you a smile of encouragement.
“I d-don’t know how to or where to begin.”
Billy clicks his tongue in sympathy.
“Poor girl, why don't we help you?”
Your body responds eagerly, you shake your head.
“We won't touch you,” Frank whispers, leaning in, “We'll just tell you what to do.”
The warm look in his eyes unnerve you, but there's a spot between your legs that aches too much to be ignored.
“O-okay.” You whisper.
Billy leans in next.
“We'll start slow, why don't you press your hands to your body?” He whispers.
You suck in a shaky breath, and slowly bring your hands up to your shoulders. You wait expectantly, looking at Billy for more orders.
It's Frank that speaks next.
“Good, now slide those pretty hands down.”
You go slowly, glancing up at the large crucifix above the altar as your hands brush over your nipples through your robe, the coldness of the air and your thin attire making you shiver.
You stop at your hips, feeling unsure. You want to reach lower and touch between your legs, but you just don't know.
“Is this a sin?” You ask, turning to look at Billy, whose eyes are locked to your hands.
He shakes his head.
“This is perfectly normal, you were made this way for a reason.” He murmurs.
“Move lower,” Frank says, catching your attention, “right where it aches, reach down and touch that pretty spot.”
You whine softly, doing as he says, slowly bunching your skirt up with one hand, and then moving your fingers slowly under your skirt.
You suck in a shaky breath when your fingers land on yourself, a surprising amount of slick present.
You glide your fingers experimentally through, gasping, wide eyes staring up at Frank as pleasure sparks deliciously inside of you.
“How does it feel?” Billy asks.
You struggle to find the willpower to speak.
“Wet,” You answer finally, “warm.”
Both men make sounds of approval.
“Tug your skirt up, let me see.” Frank whispers, impassioned.
You nod, pulling your dress, and then chemise up higher, so both men can see your hand pressed in between your legs.
You draw your fingers away, your wetness clinging to your fingers, you hear Frank hiss as though he's in pain.
“Keep going, rub that little bud faster.” Billy hums, and you nod, guiding your fingers back to that aching spot.
You shudder, making a low moan, raising your other hand to cover your mouth. Before you can, Billy catches your wrist tightly.
“Don't,” he grunts, “We want to hear you.”
“There's no one around.” Frank says in agreement.
You nod, circling your bud slowly.
“That's it,” Frank whispers, “Do you like playing with yourself?”
You nod, your hips moving of their own accord, grinding down onto the tips of your fingers.
Something strange begins to happen, your body growing warmer, your heart pounding in your chest. Your movements grow more wanton, fingers speeding up, desperate to reach a forbidden point.
“I-” You stutter, trying to convey a message, but you're not sure what's happening, “I'm-”
Frank's hand moves over your back soothingly.
“Don't fight it, let it happen.”
Your eyes roll back into your head, breath halting in your throat.
Your body stiffens, the feeling of weightlessness overcomes you and then you moan, crying out as pleasure slams into you.
It comes in waves, your center pulsing, feeling oddly empty through everything.
You struggle to support yourself, body leaning against Frank's, panting, trying to understand how that's supposed to make you want less.
Billy turns to look at you.
“I want to taste your release.” He says with a tilt of his head, “Put your fingers in my mouth.”
You raise your head in shock.
“But-” that's dirty, you want to say.
Frank chuckles in amusement beside you. You raise your head to look at him for an explanation.
“Let him,” Frank instructs, “It's all he's going to get tonight anyway.”
You're not sure what that means, but you oblige, raising your wet fingers up from between your slippery thighs.
He cups your hand, bringing it the rest of the way to his mouth, wrapping his warm lips around two of your fingers, sucking.
He hums around your fingers, his tongue delving out to make sure they're clean, eyes fluttering closed as he seemingly enjoys the taste of you.
You gulp, a terrifying thought of his tongue on the spot where your fingers were makes you stiffen for a moment.
Frank reaches around, gripping your jaw firmly to tilt your head up to him.
“Open your mouth, beautiful.” He grunts softly, and you do without hesitation.
“Stick that pretty tongue out.”
You're not sure what his intention is, but the last thing you expect is to watch him with hooded eyes, lean forward and deliver a stream of spit into your mouth.
It's warm, and when he tells you to swallow, you do without question, though you definitely know you should be asking questions.
Billy chuckles next, and you feel your face heat at having him observe something so… intimate.
“I hope you learned a lot tonight, sweetheart, why don't you go back to your room and get some rest?”
You nod, rising onto wobbly legs, Billy and Frank rising with you. When you make it a step away, Billy grabs your wrist.
“Tell no one what we did tonight, I worry they wouldn't understand.”
You swallow, nodding, trusting Billy with your life the way you always have.
You smile, turning, allowing his hand to slip from yours.
You walk away.
.
.
.
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