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kayssweetdreams · 6 months

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Owls, Neighbors and Caramel Apples

(A BBU X WH FanFic)

As it turns out, Having your own pocket dimension, and not having a party was a combination for being really bored. Barnaby sighed as he gazed at the forever spinning clocks in his manor. He knew that it would be a while before he could throw another party, but he didn't think it would be THAT long.

"Hoo. Who would have thought waiting could be so boring!" He shouted, his voice echoing through the mansion's many halls. He stretched his neck out as he looked around for something, ANYTHING to do. But alas, it was all for naught. There was absolutely NOTHING to do.

Suddenly, an idea popped into the swirling mass of chaos that was his head. If he was bored here...why wouldn't he go and visit somewhere ELSE for a change! See new sights, hear new sounds, 'invite' new guests! Oh it was going to be so FUN! Using his little gem, he opened up a small portal and quickly flew inside.

On the other side of his swirling mass, lied a small, and colorful neighborhood, surrounded by a multi-colored forest. Barnaby's eyes lit up, he never seen so much color before! The most he saw was the orange glow of his Barnaboos, or the bright green glow of acid, so this was quite a treat to him. That's when he heard something, it sounded to be two sets of feet walking to where he was.

Thinking quickly, he transformed himself into a small beetle (of course with his swirling orange and yellow eyes) and flew onto a nearby bush. Barnaby then saw WHAT was walking towards him. There were two...living puppets. One of them was as Grey as the tombstones outside his manor, but wore a colorful vest and bow tie, and was holding a butterfly net, the other one was bright and colorful, with long blonde hair, a pink dress and two small horns on her head.

Barnaby in his beetle like disguise smiled, New Party Guests! He needed to make sure to give them invitations...and a good way for them to die. "Oh Frank! Look at this one! I've never seen anything like it before!" He heard the pink one squeal. Looking up, Barnaby noticed the two puppets looking down at him. He scuttled backwards, he never was the one being looked down on before, especially since he usually was the one looking down on others.

"I must say Julie. I've never seen anything like this either." The Grey puppet said, getting down to the Pink Puppet's level. Barnaby looked between the two of them, before deciding to fly off somewhere else. Finding a good spot between a barn and another house that looked like a costume chest, he then sat down on a small box of props as another puppet, with a sun for a head walked out, along with another orange puppet and a large red bird puppet.

"Ok. Let's go over the scene again. The brave knight kneels before the queen, as the fair queen knights him for his acts of bravery." The sun puppet said. Barnaby internally smiled, this should be interesting. "U-Um...O-Ok...I suppose I could do that...B-But are you sure that I can't use a spoon?" The bird puppet asked "No. It must be the sword of light that the brave knight had brought back from slaying the giant. It'll be alright Poppy." The sun said. The bird puppet shakily held the sword, trembling so much that the sword ended up slipping between the bird's wings, making it squawk in fear.

The sun puppet sighed "It's alright Poppy, the sword is made of foam, you couldn't hurt the mailman even if you wanted to." The sun puppet said. The bird puppet (now known as "Poppy") trembled "B-But what if something else happens Sally? I-I wouldn't want to hurt Eddie, he does so much for us and I don't want to hurt him!" She squawks. The orange puppet gently placed a hand on Poppy's shoulder. "Now Miss Partridge, It'll be OK. I've taken bigger tumbles than a foam sword, I'll be alright." He said, his voice having a southern accent.

Barnaby fought back a chuckle, he wondered what kind of death he should give this fellow, as he wondered what kind of tumbles he had taken. The sun puppet then sighed "OK. Let's take 5! I'll try and revamp the script so that you can use a spoon instead." She said, getting a sigh of relief from the bird puppet "Oh thank you Sally. I don't know what I would have done if I had hurt Eddie" Poppy said. Wondering what else this little neighborhood had in store, Barnaby decided to fly over to a small store that read "Howdy's Place!"

Landing on a nearby fruit stand, Barnaby looked inside, and saw one lone green puppet wiping down the counters, but upon closer inspection, he noticed that said puppet had 4 arms! That's when he heard a small bell chime, and a large blue dog puppet walked in "Howdy-Do! How ya doin Barn?" The green puppet asked "I'm doing good Howdy. Just got my brand new juggling balls delivered." The dog puppet said, as the green puppet'a lower arms began making what appeared to be a hot dog...covered in whipped cream...and condensed milk.

A little odded out from the peculiar order, Barnaby flew over to a large red house that sat in the middle of the small neighborhood. Outside of the house sat a small yellow puppet with a blue pompadour, a canvas in front of him. "What should I draw today Home?" He asked the house in a monotone voice. The red house that sat beside him creaked and squeaked as two big black eyes in the windows looked at him.

The yellow puppet tilted his head. "I don't know Home...what I want to draw." He said. Barnaby's eyes lit up, the little puppet was bored! Like him! Without a second thought he summoned up a small portal, making the puppet, his canvas and easel fall below him, with him following suit. Back in his ghostly manor, Barnaby returned to his normal owlish form, and stretched his neck down to his new "visitor"

"Ooh Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo! Hello there my felted fellow!" He greeted, his usual smile on his face. The yellow puppet looked up at him with a smile "Oh. Hello there...I'm Wally..." He said, lazily waving at him. "Why hello there Wally! I'm Barnaby! Owner of this dimension, and the best host of parties!" Barnaby said, his face spinning with glee. Wally's smile somehow got bigger "Oh...I have a friend named Barnaby too...he's a dog." He said.

"I saw your friends, and I would like to invite you, and all of your friends to my party!" Barnaby said, hooting excitedly. Wally tilted his head "A Party? That's the Most." He said, still smiling. Barnaby smiled as he sent out his "special" invites back to Wally's Home, for everyone back there "Your friends should he here soon, so in the meantime, would you care for a Caramel apple?"

@bbu-fan-blog @billiebustupofficial

#Billie Bust Up #Welcome Home #BBU Barnaby #Barnaby #Wally Darling #Barnaby B Beagle #Frank Frankly #Julie Joyful #Eddie Dear #Sally Starlet #Poppy Partridge #Howdy Pillar

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hungermakesmonsters · 9 days

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(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Six

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour in a semi-public place. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 4.7k

A/N : I think I've finally sorted the tagging issue.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE

MASTER LIST

Chapter Six

It felt like you were in a daze, like the night before had just been a fever dream. You’d almost been willing to write it off as a dream before you saw a note in your kitchen from Billy, telling you that the leftovers from dinner had been put in the refrigerator for you. There was no telling if he’d brought them through himself or if he’d had the maid do it, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

After your usual morning routine, you headed to the library to finally return Billy’s copy of Dorian Gray, exchanging it for Jane Eyre, another book that you’d never been allowed to read growing up.

By the time Billy emerged at sunset, you’d finished the leftovers and you were sitting on the sofa, with your nose buried in the book and your stuffed beagle on your lap. You’d even put tonight's blood in his thermal travel mug, hoping to keep it warm for him.

“Good evening,” he said as he joined you on the sofa, eyeing his travel mug before turning his attention to you and smiling all the more when he noticed the stuffed toy. “I hope I’m not interrupting the two of you.”

“Not at all, me and Bill were just reading.”

“Bill?” He laughed. “You can’t call him Bill.”

“But he’s Bill the Beagle,” you told him, biting your lip and trying your damnedest to stifle your own laughter. “It’s too late to change it, he’s used to it now.”

The both of you sat for a moment, trying to fight back the laughter but it didn’t last. You cracked first and, soon enough, the pair of you were laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Just the sound of his laughter had you smiling. It was nice, precious even. It was only then that you realised that you didn’t hear him laugh very often, at least, not properly. He seemed happy, honestly happy with no hint of smugness.

“Is this for me?” He asked, reaching for the mug.

You nodded, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious at how much thought went into the gesture. “I just thought…”

“Thank you,” he offered, obviously sensing your discomfort and not wanting to force you to finish the thought. After taking a slow drink, his attention turned to the book on your lap. “So, what are you reading now?”

“Jane Eyre,” you answered and caught a questioning look from him. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just very... apt.”

“Is it?

“I wouldn’t want to spoil it for you,” he answered. Then, a beat later, he changed the subject. “I’d like to ask you something; I’m throwing a party here next month, and I’d very much like you to come. It’ll mean taking you for a new dress, of course, but -”

“A new dress?” You repeated, barely keeping up with all the information he was throwing your way. “But I already have so many.”

“I want you to have something special, something you picked for yourself. And it means an evening out of the penthouse,” Billy explained. You didn’t need to answer, he could tell just from the look on your face that you wanted to. “We can go on Wednesday.”

“Okay,” you smiled.

“Great, now that that’s settle, what do you want to do tonight?”

You fell silent, wondering if it was a trick question, if there was an expected answer. It’d be a lie to say that some part of you wasn’t hoping for a repeat of the night before, but you couldn’t say that.

“We could watch something?” You offered and Billy almost seemed taken aback by the simplicity of the suggestion. “Just - you know, because we talked a lot last night and I haven’t exactly done anything interesting today...”

“If that’s what you want to do,” he shrugged.

“We don’t have to, if you’d rather...” you trailed off, cheeks starting to warm.

Billy reached for you, fingers ghosting your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “No pressure or expectations, remember?” He told you softly. “If you want to watch a movie, we can watch a movie, okay?”

The only response you could give was a meek nod before quickly excusing yourself. When you returned a couple of minutes later, you had a blanket and a bowl of popcorn, explaining to Billy that they were crucial for a TV night. He nodded while fighting back a laugh and you realised that, while you’d been out of the room, he’d been and grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Why don’t you find us something to watch?” Billy asked, handing you the remote.

And then began five minutes of mindless scrolling through Netflix, watching trailers, and trying to find something that you’d both enjoy.

“What about this one?” You asked, lingering on Black Sails, a show that caught your attention because it was about pirates and you’d been interested in pirates ever since you’d secretly read Treasure Island as a child. “It’s a series but... well, we’ve got all year, right? Maybe we could watch TV together more often?”

For a moment, he just looked at you, the smile on his lips growing, like you were offering him far more than the occasional night in front of the TV.

“Okay, let’s watch some pirates,” he agreed, filing the two wine glasses and handing you one of them.

When you’d chosen the show, you’d thought that you’d be able to watch and talk but, within five minutes, you were hooked.

It wasn’t long before Billy was awkwardly reaching across, trying to steal your popcorn, prompting you to edge closer and closer until you were pressed against his side. You were so caught up in the show that you barely noticed Billy draping his arm around you or the way your head had ended up resting on his shoulder.

One episode finished and another started, then another. You made little comments to each other, but after the popcorn and wine were gone, you were mostly silent. There was more sex and nudity than you’d expected and you felt your cheeks warm every time. If Billy noticed, he was nice enough not to say anything about it. But, aside from that, you were enjoying it; you were enjoying the whole night. It was nice. And Billy seemed to be enjoying it too.

“Oh, now I see why you’re watching this,” Billy joked when a particularly muscled and shirtless pirate appeared on screen. You pulled a face. “What? He not your type?”

“I don’t have a type,” you confessed, playfully nudging him with your elbow.

Billy retaliated by nudging you back and things seemed to escalate from there. You gave him a shove and he pushed back, his hand discovering a ticklish spot on your side and, once Billy realised you were ticklish, it was game over. You squealed as he started to tickle you, laughing and pushing against him but, somehow, you ended up on your back with him above you. The tickling continued for a moment, but it soon turned into kissing.

“What is it about you?” he asked softly. “How do you make me want like this?”

Before you could answer his lips were on yours again, the kiss more eager than the last. He pressed closer, his hips between your thighs, and you soon felt the increasingly familiar press of his erection against you. A soft sound slipped from your lips and into his, your heart hammering in your chest.

“The things I want to do to you,” he muttered, lips pulling from yours to your neck, kissing and sucking, leaving little marks in your skin. “The ways I want you,” he continued. “I’d ruin you. I’d make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

It sounded insane but that didn’t stop you from wanting it, craving it.

Your hips pushed up against his while your fingertips pressed against his spine, holding him against you. A loud moan spilled from your lips when he pressed back, causing your body to tremble, your back arching against him of its own accord.

His head lifted from your neck, his dark eyes looked down at you, his jaw tense.

“I want to make you mine,” but this time it wasn’t Billy’s voice, it was something closer to the way he’d sounded that night in the kitchen when he’d been hungry.

Every fibre of your being suddenly tensed, your heart stuttered and your breath caught. Your eyes were wide as he leaned to roughly press his lips to yours, his tongue dominating the kiss. His hips pressed down against yours again, grinding his clothed cock against you.

“I want to make you scream my name.” He growled before sinking against your lips again.

The whimper that escaped you next wasn’t one of pleasure, it was shock and, if you were honest, a little bit of fear. But that little sound seemed to be enough to snap Billy out of it.

His lips pulled from yours suddenly, and he buried his face against your neck. He was still and silent for a few seconds. All you could hear was your own panted breaths and the echo of your pounding heart in your ears.

The shock lingered but the fear was quick to dissipate. He’d stopped. You hadn’t even had to ask him to. He’d stopped the moment he realised that you were uncomfortable, even though you could still feel how unfulfilled he was.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered against your neck, then again; “I’m sorry.”

Your mind was racing, between this and the night in the kitchen, you didn’t know what to think. He’d been hungry that night - at least, that was the excuse you’d given for his behaviour, but now it was starting to seem like it might be something else entirely.

“Are you -” you dared to quietly ask, “- okay?”

“No,” he answered and that one broken syllable shattered your heart.

Without hesitation or pause to think, you started to run your fingers through his hair, wanting to soothe whatever it was inside of him that was hurting. You heard him take an uncomfortable breath, but you didn’t stop.

After a few minutes, he finally started to relax a little.

“It’s okay,” you muttered. “You didn’t hurt me.”

His head lifted slowly and the look on his face caused your stomach to knot.

“I could have,” he told you, looking almost sick at the thought.

Finally, he moved, pulling away from you and sitting up, his head in his hands. You followed suit, sitting beside him, giving him a moment of silence to think.

But that silence quickly felt deafening and you felt worse for the part you’d played. You hadn’t expected the things he’d said and they’d unsettled you a little, but that was all. You weren’t used to men being so forward and borderline aggressive about their desires. But he’d stopped. He hadn’t done any of the things he said. He hadn’t hurt you. He certainly hadn’t forced you into anything.

“You could hurt me right now,” you stated. “You could’ve hurt me last night, or that night in the kitchen, but you didn’t. And I don’t think you will. I get that I’m fragile and weak, and that worries you, but -”

“I don’t think you’re fragile or weak,” he told you, lifting his head and fixing his gaze on you. “You’re not either of those things.”

It was your turn to drop your gaze, cheeks warming as you shook your head.

“Hey, look at me,” he said, and you did as he asked. “You being here is proof that you’re not

weak. Taking this job, being stuck here with me for a year, there’s nothing weak about any of that.”

Your head shook again. “You don’t understand. You were right, I am running away. I’m here because I wasn’t strong enough to do anything else.”

“Everything you’ve done since you got here - standing up to me, the night you helped me, that was reckless and dangerous. It was brave.” He told you, not giving you a chance to argue. “So, no, it’s not because I think you’re fragile and weak. It’s me, I...” he sighed, “I told you, control is an issue for me.”

Cautiously, you reached for him, taking his hand between yours and holding it tight.

“I didn’t even have to ask you to stop, Billy,” you told him softly. “You stopped yourself before you took things too far. You were in control. And I - I don’t know, it’s not like I was scared, I’m just not used to things being that... intense.” You watched him swallow awkwardly and decided to cut him off before he could speak. “Why don’t we rewind this episode and finish watching?”

He gave an uncertain grumble and you reached for the remote, winding back the last fifteen minutes of the show, back to the last thing you remembered. Sitting back, you grabbed Bill the Beagle and pulled your blanket back up over your legs, and when Billy finally sat back, you snuggled into his side again. And, eventually, he wrapped his arm around you again.

The rest of the night passed without incident. Your eyes started to close and, for a few minutes, you even drifted off. Billy woke you with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Bedtime, sleepyhead,” he muttered softly, and you reluctantly agreed, stifling a yawn as you got to your feet. “I should see you briefly tomorrow, but I’m needed in the office pretty early.”

Nodding, you headed for your rooms, saying goodnight before leaving him.

True to his word, the next day you saw him at sunset for a few minutes on his way out. On Tuesday, he was almost late leaving because he pulled you into a hot and heavy makeout session in the kitchen that seemed to suggest he was frustrated about not getting to see you. But then Wednesday rolled around, and it was time for Billy to take you dress shopping.

The moment you stepped into the elevator with him, he took your hand in his and kept hold of it all the way down to the parking garage below the building, leading you to his car and opening the door for you. You’d never been in a Rolls Royce before, and you caught Billy smiling as you looked around the car in wonder as your fastened your seatbelt.

It wasn’t a long drive to the dress shop - a large boutique affair, filled with bespoke pieces as well as off-the-rack gowns and dresses. And, while you’d been in fancy dress stores before, you found yourself taken aback. Usually at times like this, you’d have your mother at your side, and she always had an idea of what you were supposed to wear; what colours were acceptable and how much skin a decent woman should show.

“Mr Russo, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” one of the assistants said as she approached.

You watched as she approached Billy and he kissed her cheeks in, what you could only describe as, a Parisian fashion. He introduced you and she took a step back, looking you up and down. Next to her you felt more child than woman - she was obviously a vampire, with perfect skin and hair that fell in natural tight ringlets, framing her face. She was another example of the stunning women who seemed to gravitate around Billy.

But it was her looking at you in an appraising way that really caught you off guard.

“Your pictures really didn’t do you justice,” she remarked and you quickly looked at Billy for clarification.

“Hannah picked your wardrobe,” he explained.

“Oh.” Suddenly you found yourself looking down, thinking about the outfit you’d put together - jeans, a blouse and boots - wondering what the person who’d chosen all the items thought of how you’d decided to wear them.

“Why don’t you have a look around, see what speaks to you?” Hannah offered.

Billy gave a wave of his hand, indicating for you to do just that and, slowly you started to move towards the racks of dresses. It wasn’t long before you were looking at the sorts of dresses your mother might have picked for you; a-line dresses that showed a hint of your waist and with necklines high enough to cover any and all cleavage. You could practically hear her voice in your head telling you how no respectable man would ever want you if we went around showing too much skin.

While you looked, a bottle of champagne was opened and two glasses were filled; one for you and one for Billy. He kept hold of your glass while you looked around.

You pulled one dress out and looked at it front and back. It was like every other dress you’d had since you’d started to grow into your figure. It felt safe but boring, like it wasn’t really you but what you thought was expected of you. But you weren’t that person anymore - at least, you were trying not to be.

“If you don’t mind me saying, with your figure, I’d suggest something a little more fitted, something with some slink.” Hannah offered.

“Slink?” You repeated, looking at Billy, wondering what he thought.

“I think you’d look lovely in a slinky dress.”

“Can you help me choose?” You asked Hannah. “I don’t know where to even start.”

Rather than the expected look of judgement, Hannah just smiled. “Of course. Why don’t you and Mr Russo go sit down and I’ll put together a collection for you to try.”

“That would be brilliant, thank you Hannah,” Billy answered for you, handing you a glass.

Fifteen minutes later, you were in a fitting room the size of a small bedroom, looking through a whole rail of dresses. You started with a black dress, but hated it the moment it was on, then you half pulled on a short red dress but decided that you couldn’t stand the colour. Then you started to rummage through the rail again.

Your attention was quickly drawn to a silver number, and finally you understood what Hannah had meant by slink. It had thin spaghetti straps and a neckline that plunged to a couple of inches above your belly button, and a slit running up one side from ankle almost right to your hip. Even the back of the dress hung low.

You pulled it on and looked at yourself awkwardly in the mirror. Because of the way the dress was cut, you had to remove your bra to get a real idea of how the dress was supposed to look. You stood on tiptoes and turned this way and that, not sure what to think.

“How’s it going?” Billy called from outside.

You stayed silent for a few moments before sighing. “I don’t know,” you called back.

“Need a second opinion?”

You poked your head around the door, the awkward discomfort on your face drawing a sympathetic smile from Billy. He waited a beat before getting to his feet, you felt your cheeks warming as he approached you. You remained hidden behind the door, not sure you wanted him to see.

“I look ridiculous,” you pouted.

“Are you gonna let me see?” He asked, a hint of laughter in his tone. You shook your head and he gently pressed against the door with his hand. “Come on, let me see.”

For a moment more, you held the door in place before finally stepping back and letting the door swing open so he could see you. When he didn’t immediately say something, you took another step back.

“You hate it.”

“What? No, I’m speechless,” he told you, stepping forwards, closing the gap between you. “You look amazing.”

“I feel like a kid playing dress up.”

He kicked the door shut behind him as he stepped into the fitting room, his gaze roving up and down your body. Clearing the distance between you, he placed his hands on your hips, turning you to face towards the mirror.

“Look,” he instructed in a low voice, spoken into your ear, and you did as you were told, looking at your reflection. “You only feel like a kid because that’s how you’ve let people see you. But that’s not what I see. I see a sexy, elegant woman. I see curves and tits that get me hard, and it kills me that you don’t realise how amazing you are.”

His lips pressed to your neck before you could respond and your breath caught, watching your reflections.

Whether it was his words or the way he was touching you, he made you feel more confident, like you really could wear the dress and not be seen as ridiculous. You pressed against him and felt his cock against your hip, and that felt like all the proof you needed that he meant what he was saying.

His hands began to move, one pressing against your stomach while the other moved to rest over your racing heart. You took a breath, filled with a sort of wanting that only he seemed to bring out in you. Not giving yourself a moment to second guess, you reached behind him, palming his erection through the fabric of his dark jeans.

“Can I -” you started quietly, voice little more than a whisper, cheeks starting to heat. Billy stared at you in the mirror, expectant but patient, letting you find the nerve to finish. “Can I touch you?”

He smirked at you through the mirror as he undid the fastenings of his jeans and pulled his cock out. Your eyes widened, watching everything through the mirror because you were too embarrassed to look down. Billy took your hand in his and wrapped it around his shaft, and you started to stroke him slowly. And, when your gaze dropped, you found Billy’s fingers beneath your chin, urging your head up.

“Don’t be shy,” he muttered in your ear, his breath catching as your thumb brushed over the tip of his cock. “See how amazing you look right now, taking what you want?”

You bit your lip, watching his reflection, seeing the way his jaw went slack as his breathing got heavier in your ear. Once he was certain you weren’t going to look away, his hand moved from your chin to your breast, slipping beneath the fabric of the dress.

“You look so fucking good in this dress,” he groaned, returning his lips to your neck, “so confident and sexy. You’ve got no idea what I want to do to you right now.”

His hand moved, slipping one of the thin straps down your arm, causing the front of the dress to fall, exposing your breast to him. Your hand faltered for a moment, cheeks burning hotter.

“Don’t you dare look away,” he husked in your ear, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. There was a seriousness about him that sent a shiver down your spine despite the smile on his lips.

Your hand started moving quicker as his cold hand moved to grope you again. And, finally, you started to see it; when you looked at your reflection, you didn’t see the shy, embarrassed girl, you saw the woman who had Billy Russo, desperate and groaning, in the palm of her hand. You felt almost powerful, filled with a kind of confidence you’d never been allowed to feel before, and it was all thanks to Billy.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he grunted, face pressed against your neck. Your hand moved quicker as his body started to tense. “Oh, shit...”

You felt him twitch in your hand and watched him come undone. It was a beautiful sight, even if you did go straight back to feeling embarrassed once it was over.

“Are you going to try any of the others?” He asked, pulling the strap back onto your shoulder and straightening the dress, before tucking himself back into his jeans.

“I don’t think I’ll like any of them as much as I like this one.”

“I don’t think I will either,” Billy agreed, smirking at your reflection. “Why don’t you get changed and we’ll have Hannah help you find some shoes.”

You nodded and Billy pressed one more kiss to your neck before pulling away from you. He left to speak to Hannah and, for a moment, you couldn’t even move. You kept your eyes on the mirror and the woman that was staring back at you; was that really you? Could you be the confident woman who took what you wanted? Eventually your gaze dropped, realising that Billy had managed to get cum on the mirror.

That got you moving.

You quickly, but carefully, dropped the dress and started to pull your clothes back on when, suddenly, the door opened and someone stepped in.

“Sorry, I -” you started to speak but stopped the moment she lifted her fingers to her lips.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” she explained in a hushed whisper. “My name is Agent Madani, I’m with Homeland Security, and I believe you’re in danger.”

“What? I -” you took a step back, head shaking.

“Are you being kept against your will?”

“No, I - it’s my job, I -” you didn’t get to finish.

“Your parents believe that you’ve been kidnapped,” she sounded almost confused at the revelation you were there of your own free will.

“No, I left home. It was my choice,” you told her. “They don’t know I’m here, do they?” Your voice quickly turned frantic, trying to make sense of what was happening. Surely your parents wouldn’t have been able to get Homeland to look for you.

“No, they don’t know yet -”

“Yet? They can’t know at all,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“Your parents aren’t why I’m here,” she continued quietly. “Has Russo said anything to you about the other women who’ve worked for him?”

“No, I just know that they quit because they didn’t want to work for him anymore,” you tried to explain, your mind racing.

“Three of them are missing. All presumed dead,” she told you. “Each went to work for Russo and haven’t been seen since.”

“Billy wouldn’t, he’s not -” you stopped abruptly, noticing her eyes finding the mess Billy had left on the mirror and obviously putting the pieces together. When she looked back up, you could barely hold her gaze.

“Have you seen anything suspicious? Has he tried to feed from you without permission?” She asked. “Is he forcing you to sleep with him?”

“No - no, nothing like that. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you told her, so confused by everything she was trying to tell you.

“You need to be careful. He can’t know that we’ve had this conversation. He’s dangerous -” a noise outside the fitting room seemed to spook her, “- I’ll be in touch again soon. Don't worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And, then, just as quickly as she’d appeared, she left.

Your mind was reeling over everything she’d said. It seemed insane, ridiculous. Billy had been nothing but kind to you, nothing but careful and considerate. You couldn’t imagine him hurting anyone. There had to be some other explanation.

You must have been taking too long because, soon enough, Billy appeared at the door again.

“Are you alright? You’re not having second thoughts about the dress are you?” He asked with that soft smile that caused butterflies in your stomach.

“N-no, sorry... I guess I just got distracted,” you told him, deciding not to mention Madani to him, not knowing how he’d take it.

“Come on,” he offered you his hand, “Hannah’s picked out some shoes for you to look at.”

There was something about him in that moment, something about the way he was smiling at you that made you want to believe the best in him. After all, you’d met monsters before, and Billy Russo just didn’t seem to fit the bill.

Grabbing the dress, you took his hand and let him lead you across the store to look at shoes. Agent Madani was nowhere to be seen and, for that evening at least, you decided to try and forget all about it. Tomorrow you’d be having lunch with Karen, maybe you’d be able to find out something then. But, in that moment, you were content to hold his hands and look at shoes, trying to forget the stain on an otherwise amazing evening.

End Note : Dun-dun-duuuuuunnnnnnnn. I have nothing to say because I don't want to potentially spoil what I've got planned. But, yeah, I decided that reader and Billy should watch Black Sails together because it's been showing up on my dash a lot and it's an a+ show if you haven't seen it already.

As always, thanks so much for reading (and also thank you so much for all the new followers) I've really loved all the feedback from this fic and for my last fic, and you've all just been wonderful.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (I think I've found a way to get tagging to work properly again, please let me know if it doesn't tag you.)

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