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#dark frank castle
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Bad Reputation 1
Warnings: dark elements, noncon, abuse, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.
Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.
Part of The Club AU
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“I can’t tell you how much I need this,” Maria sighs as you put down the cocktail before her.
“Yeah, me too,” you sit back and twirl the straw in your drink.
“You sure about this place?” She looks around as she lifts the glass filled to the brim with a pink and purple ombre, topped with a wedge of bright lime. “Seems a bit young for us.”
“Uh, well, Google Maps isn’t exactly intuitive, I guess. You said drinks and I didn’t think you’d wanna go down to some dive.”
“Mm, yeah, I might run into my husband,” she scoffs, setting down her drink and rubbing her temples, “I can’t explain to you how intense it’s been. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”
“Sounds like he wants to be your father, not your husband,” you roll your eyes.
“No, no ‘I told you so’s’,” she crosses her arms, “because I know. You were right. He’s controlling. I just… I didn’t think he’d get this bad.”
You nod. You don’t want to be right. You care for your friend. You want her to be okay.
“Where does he think you are right now?”
“With the kids,” she says guiltily, “I told him I was taking them to my parents’ place. Which I did, he just thinks I’m there too.”
“Jeez,” you rub your chin, “so, what do you think? Talking to a therapist or a lawyer?”
She looks at you, a dire spark in her eyes, “I don’t know. I’m trying to figure it out. Either one is going to be like pulling teeth.”
“Yeah, I can only imagine.”
“God, I wish I was you,” she lifts her glass again, “single, childfree, alive.”
“Oh, Mar, don’t say that. You just need to get through this. And you can. The both of you just need to figure it out. You need to adjust. You never did, really. He kept on doing the same things, meanwhile you gave up everything to be with the kids. You deserve to get some of you back.”
“Please,” she wiggles her nose, “you know I get weepy when I drink.”
“And look at me getting sentimental,” you chuckle, “alright, that’s it.” You pick up your cocktail and chug it, trickling a little down the corner of your mouth. You wipe away the excess and slam the glass down, “you’re going to finish that. Then we’re going to get another and we’re going to dance.”
“Dance? College ended a long time ago–”
“We’re still wild, Mar, you’ll see. Down it and lets do a double to get in the mood. I’m not letting you go until your leaning.”
She huffs and shakes her head, hovering her drink before her lips, “you really are a bad influence.”
“Oh, you can be sure to tell Frank he was right about me,” you wink.
🎶
You come out onto the pavement as the buzzing of the music sticks in your ears. You made it to last call but Maria is barely holding on as she clings to your shoulder. You giggle and search for a cab among the rabble of clubbers dispersing in pairs and larger groups. 
You see the Golden Arches just behind the row of buildings across the street, “how about some Mickey D’s, huh? Suck up some of that vodka?”
“No, I gotta get home,” she babbles into a belch.
“You know you want a McChicken? Oh, how about nuggets? You know the sweet and sour sauce is your fave.”
“Stop!” She nearly shouts in your ear.
“I’m not going home till I have a juicy Big Mac in these paws,” you drag her down the sidewalk.
“Ugh, I can’t believe it’s after two,” she manages to bobble beside you, swaying slightly as she keeps a hold of your arm, “I’m a mother! My kids–”
“Are well taken care of,” you assure her, “this is girls’ night and it’s not over yet.”
You turn the corner, a few others ahead of you seem to have the same destination in sight. In the back of your mind, you know you’ll regret it in the morning but right now, your mouth is watering for over processed meat and cheese. Maria hiccups and hums.
“I’m gonna feel like shit,” she voices your inner monologue.
“We can feel like shit together,” you laugh, “just like college–”
Suddenly she slips away from you. At first you think she tripped but then you see the shadow dragging her back down the pavement. You know that gait, that lumbering rhythm, shoulders squared, nostrils puffing like a bull. Really? That jackass.
“Frank,” you shuffle to catch Maria’s other arm as she stumbles senselessly behind him, whimpering, “let her go.”
“Let my wife go,” he marches but you cling to Maria, drawing him back, “stay out of my marriage.”
“This isn’t about you, we’re having fun–”
“You need to grow up,” he keeps one hand on Maria as he rears on you, wagging his thick finger in your face, “mind your fucking business and stay away from my goddamn wife.”
“She’s an adult. She can do what she wants–”
“I know your bullshit. You get her all worked up then talk her into your dumb shit. Because you can’t hold onto a man of your own–”
“Pfft, whatever, I don’t need some asshole like you, Frank Castle–”
You stagger back as his fist cracks across your cheek. You taste blood as you fall backwards onto your ass, crying out at the pain that zips through your hip, ankle thrumming as you manage to unhook your heel from a crack in the sidewalk. You whine and cradle your head.
“Oh my god, are you o–” Maria reaches for you, hanging from Frank’s grasp.
“Come on. Home,” he snarls and jerks her away, “where you belong.”
“Hey,” you get to your knees, head swirling as you try to plant a foot.
“You follow me and I’ll leave you in the gutter,” he stops and points at you again, “fucking trash.”
You spit out blood into your hand, frozen in fear and dizziness. You can barely believe he hit you. He really hit you. You just hope he doesn’t do worse to Maria.
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bxwitched · 1 year
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Waiting Eyes
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Warnings: Explicit content, 18+ only. Stalking, non-con, dub-con, voyeurism, mental illness, delusion, PTSD, veterans, sexual assault, dark themes.
Character Pairing: Dark!Frank Castle x Reader
Word Count: 1.8K
Summary: Frank has watched and he's waited, but now his patience has run out.
A/N: I've had this in my drafts for a while. Comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated! You can find my Masterlist here.
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Frank watches as you move around your apartment from his place on the neighbouring rooftop, his eyes locked on the way that the soft skin of your midriff bares as you stretch your arms up and loosen your hair from it's hold. 
He's been watching you for months, looking out for you he reminds himself. He'd been visiting Curtis at the VA the day that he'd met you, you'd been talking quietly with a vet in the corner when he first caught sight of you, the younger man had been visibly panicked, eyes wide with fear but you showed no fear as you had kneeled down in front of him, your eyes locked with his whilst you spoke softly and gave him calm reassurance.
Frank could see the genuine kindness as you eased his nerves, could practically feel the care in your voice as you had talked him down.
He'd decided then and there that he had to know more about you and had followed you home that night, careful to blend into the sea of strangers on the sidewalk as he tailed you for several blocks.
Your apartment building is nice, nothing too grand but the neighbourhood is decent and your fifth floor, one bed apartment is a good size. Frank knows because he may have climbed up the fire escape a few days ago whilst you were at work and taken a look around. He'd made a mental note to get you some better locks for your windows, he needed to make sure you were safe.
Since that first day Frank had been working on getting closer to you, often stopping by the VA a few times a week under the pretence of visiting Curtis, though he knew that his old friend wouldn't be there. It was on those days that you'd humour him, letting him uncover new little parts of you as you put him to work, helping you to set up for groups or restock supplies.
Frank's breath hitches as you move into your bedroom and start to peel off your clothes, revealing more and more of your supple skin to his hungry eyes. He can't withhold the deep groan when you turn away from the rain-spattered glass and reach back to unclasp your bra, the black fabric falls away and leaves the expanse of your back bare to his hungry eyes.
He refocuses as you bend down, disappearing from view before reappearing, he can't see below the curve of your waist but the the thought of you fully exposed is still enough to drive him mad. He grunts, his gloved hand flexing against his thigh as his cock twitches against the confines of his jeans.
The lamp on your bedside table casts a soft light over your silhouette, framing your body with a heavenly glow that makes you look like an angel, he thinks. Beautiful.
Frank wonders just how heavenly you'll sound when he finally gets you underneath him. 
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You sigh as the heavy stream beats down on your back, the hot water flows down your body and melts away all of your tension, making you feeling lighter after your nightmare of a day.
First you had overslept your alarm which made you late for work, then you had missed your train which made you even later. Finally, to top it all off some Wall Street asshole had been so distracted texting that he had walked straight into you on the sidewalk and soaked you from head to toe in his overpriced coffee. He'd even yelled at you for it, ranting about 'do you even know how expensive organic arabica is?' whilst you did your best to fight back tears of frustration.
You switch off the shower and slip on a a long sleeved tee and some sweatpants. A chill sweeps over your skin as you draw your bedroom curtains, the cold New York air prickling your flesh as it seeps through the old glass.
You still as you walk into your living room. Something feels off but you can't place what it is, the room is unchanged, exactly as you'd left it and your door is locked and bolted as usual.
You shrug off the strange feeling and put it down to your frazzled nerves as you go about your evening routine. You make yourself a hot drink and settle down on the couch, cradling the comforting warmth between your palms as you indulge in some crappy tv.
You're several episodes deep into a comically bad crime drama when your eyelids start to droop and you relent, deciding to call it a night. You switch off the tv and lights and place your empty mug in the sink before ambling into your bedroom, half asleep.
You stop as you cross the threshold, a cold chill runs down the length of your spine.
You stumble as a hard body crashes against your back, nearly toppling you and a large hand clamps over your mouth, silencing your scream before it can escape. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest, adrenaline flooding your veins as you struggle, trying to shake off the unknown person's hold on you.
"Easy, easy! Hey!" Their grip tightens around your body until you can do nothing but squirm in their grasp, your nails dig crescents into your palms as your pulse pounds loudly in your ears.
Your attacker presses their body further into you, moulding themselves against your body and you whimper, feeling the tell-tale bulge of male arousal against your ass. The man hushes you softly as he buries his face into your neck, inhaling against your skin.
"Shh, shh. It's ok." His voice is gruff but his tone is soft, soothing and you whimper as tears fill your eyes. It's a stark contrast from the rough flesh of his palm as it moves down, feeling along the bared skin of your stomach. He nuzzles into your hair, grazing his lips over the shell of your ear as a growl rumbles in his chest.
"Atta' girl. I'm gonna take my hand away and you're not gonna scream, understand?" Your tears are falling freely now and you nod shakily as his hand loosens over your mouth, testing the waters before it falls away completely.
You stutter an inhale, your breath shaky as the stranger runs his fingers along the line of your collarbone, his callused touch dipping just below the fabric of your shirt.
"There you go, good girl." His praise is unsettling, as are his gentle caresses and you let out a sob when his hips grind into your backside once more, a low groan leaving him at the contact.
"Please- who are you?" You choke on another sob. "Why are you doing this?"
He sighs and his hips still against you, his large palms clasp around your elbows and he turns you around slowly in his arms.
Your blood runs cold and you swallow deeply when your eyes finally settle on his face.
It's Frank.
Polite, quiet Frank who comes around the VA now and again to see his old friend, your boss, Curtis. The man who always holds the door open for you and calls you ma'am, who makes you laugh as he helps you to stack away the chairs after a session and volunteers to help you rearrange the supplies in the storage room, a task that would make you want to bang your head against the wall if it weren't for his stimulating conversation.
He had even come to your rescue the time that Curtis had been away and a veteran had had an episode at the centre. Despite your tactics and by no fault of his own, the man had lunged for you in the midst of his attack. Frank had heard your panicked voice and immediately ran in, he had pried the other man off of you and carefully restrained him as he had screamed and lashed out.
"Frank?" Your voice cracks. "I don't understand-" He looks different you think. Lost. Empty. His dark eyes rove over your face, studying your features as you try to even your breathing, to quell the feeling of nausea churning your stomach. "What are you doing?"
He chuckles then, it's deep and warm and if it weren't happening under the current circumstances you would find it endearing.
"It's ok, I'm here. I'm home, baby." Your brows furrow with concern and you push lightly against his chest, trying to put some distance between the two of you.
"What are you talking about?"
"First time I saw you I couldn't take my eyes off of you. Looked so soft and sweet and the way that you just took away all that man's anger and pain? Knew right then that you were the one."
You shake your head slowly and try to back away from him. His eyes are glassy as they search yours and his throat bobs as he swallows thickly. It's a look that's you've seen before on dozens of veterans, he's broken.
"Frank, you need to-" He lunges forward and silences you with his lips before you can finish. The kiss is bruising, desperate as his lips move against yours with fervour. You struggle against him, your palms pushing against his toned stomach as he winds a hand into you hair.
You're in shock and you shut your lips tightly as his tongue presses against them, begging for access. He makes a sound of displeasure then and lightly pulls on your locks, angling your head back further. You groan from the discomfort of it and Frank seizes the opportunity to force his entry into your warm mouth, letting out a low hum as he melds his tongue with yours.
When he finally pulls away from you his expression is one of awe. He moves his hands to cradle your face in between his rough palms and your breath hitches, his thumb moves across your bottom lip, tracing the plump flesh and his eyes follow the movement.
"Don'tcha see? You need me to look after you, like that day at the VA. Need me like I need you."
His gaze moves downward, his dark eyes settle on the dip of your shirt and he groans, his pupils are fixed on the way that your chest heaves with your frightened breaths. Warmth begins to bloom in your stomach and your core clenches involuntarily as you whimper, feeling betrayed by your own body.
"So fuckin' beautiful, needed you for so long."
"Please, Frank-" He hushes you and pulls your body closer to his, too close. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against you with every breath and you're sure that he can feel the frantic pounding of your heart against his as the fear courses through your veins.
"Don't be scared, baby. Gonna give you everything."
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the-soulofdevil · 6 months
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Pairing: Frank Castle x reader. Tony Stark x Steve Rogers.
Theme: Dark
Genre: Marvel Horror Au
Warnings: Manipulation, gore, death mention, spooky, horror themes, mention of smut. 18+
Prompt: The Mysterious Neighbor Your neighbor's house always seemed normal until Halloween night. You notice something strange and decide to investigate.
Note: It's been a while since I participated in a challenge. Hope i could do justice to the challenge. It was an honor to participate in the lovely challenge you hosted @jtargaryen18
🎃
AO3
🎃
Anthony Howard Stark was not only your roommate but also a childhood friend. You were practically siblings at this point as both his parents were too busy for him and he spend nearly all day with you. In college you sure lost contact but after you reconciled, there was no drifting away again. You lived on your own until your landlord kicked you out. Tony insisted you live with him and his boyfriend Steve Rogers. Living with them was interesting, Steve was quite the opposite of Tony. You shared similarities with Steve more than you did with Tony. Their anniversary was coming up and hence you and Steve decided to throw a big surprise party.  Nothing better than to align the party with that of Halloween. The plan was simple, Steve will take Tony out for a long extravagant vacation while you would stay back to decorate and plan for the Halloween anniversary. It was a perfect idea. Costumes, sweets, drinks and celebration of love.
As planned three weeks prior the Halloween Steve took Tony to Paris. Tony being Tony he wanted you to join and was quite adamant until you played I feel so single with you card. You began by simple decorations. You some flowers to begin with. While you coming home your attention was captured by the neighboring villa.
You hadn’t seen anyone but the house seemed clean. You had always tried asking about the owner but Tony brushed you off. Today for some reason you felt drawn to the house. You placed a flower by the main door and left whistling away a tune you had caught not paying attention to the shadow that moved.
You began working on the flowers and other simple DIY projects. The movement outside the kitchen window though caught your attention. A guy was working in his backyard. It was strange considering you never saw anyone. Curiously you went out and called out for the person.
“Hi! Um... I never saw anyone work here.”
The guy stopped for a brief moment and turned towards you.
He smiled. “I am Frank. Frank Castle. I own this place. My timings of work are different and maybe that’s why we never ran into one another. I like working outdoors, so on my day offs I work here.” He offered another smile.
You smiled back. He looked handsome. Sweat covering his body and yet he looked mesmerizing. He had tattoos. By his built he looked like he was in army or in similar line of work.
“Do come over if you feel like. You do look like you could use a lemonade.”
Frank chuckled. “Surely. Wouldn’t decline such a sweet offer by a beautiful lady.”
Your face heater up. You offered a smile and quickly went in preparing the drink. Frank knocked at the back door soon after. He took in the interior and overall kitchen décor.
“You have an elegant taste.” He complimented.
“Oh all this is Tony. He is very good in making any place look royal and luxurious.” You said admiring your friend’s work.
“Lucky husband Mr. Tony.” Frank said with a stone cold face.
“Oh no, we’re not married. He is with Steve. They’re the couple I’m just an awkward third wheel who they adopted.” You said jokingly. You surely missed them being around.
And just like that, the smile and spark returned Frank’s eyes. He mirrored your smile. “Still lucky to have you.”
For a brief moment you looked in one another’s eyes. A shy smile hugging both your faces. It was near close to a beautiful moment when your phone rang.
“Oh this must be Steve!” you exclaimed.
You began talking to Steve missing the look on Frank’s face.
Frank was immediately enchanted by you. You were the fresh breath of air he desperately needed. A ray of sunshine he lost years ago. He wanted to have you. He wanted to have you with all the passion, desire, lust and love he had inside of him. And he was going to get you.
“You guys should enjoy and not worry about me. Our lovely neighbor is here for a drink. He’s very sweet and I’m sure you guys will like him. Now I gotta go. It’ll be rude to keep him waiting.” You hung up leaving Steve in pit full of questions as to how did the poor old bedridden Fury managed to come in for a drink.
“They worry about me. Steve and Tony. It’s after a long time I’m going to be living alone without them for 3 weeks. They’ll be back on Halloween.” You rambled.
“Oh good. We have plenty time to get to know each other.” Frank smiled.
🎃
The following days were spent decorating and talking to various bakers and restaurants who would be available for catering. You insisted Frank to join you in the taste tour but he declined every time. He was reserved and denied meeting anyone other than you, you figured. If you were not decorating you were spending time with him at either your place or his. Eventually you began spending nights in each other’s arms.
Frank whispered sweet nothings in your ears as he made love to you. At a point you thought it was too early to be doing this, but then, Steve had always said love hugs us out of nowhere and it the most comforting thing. So may be this was it.
🎃
Maria hill was a nurse appointed for Mr. Fury. She would at times come at your place for a quick chit chat and even had an extra key of your place. And like every time, Maria used her key, except this time she wasn’t greeted by your bubbly self. She called out your name.
You were upstairs kissing Frank when you heard Maria. As usual Frank quieted down.  You grabbed his shirt and went down to greet her.
As soon as you arrived Maria’s smile faded. She gave you a weird look and was about to ask you something but your usual self, distracted her.
“You are invited to Halloween Anniversary party!” by now you knew Frank got uncomfortable when you told about him to people. It seemed little unfair but you knew what he might feel. You yourself were shy person until you met Tony. Because of him you opened up a little and eventually you were more open to meeting new people. You hoped you could be same for Frank.
Maria had never seen you this happy before. Sure you were happy, but this time you were content. She ignored everything and you both engaged in conversation as usual. She left leaving you alone with Frank.
“When should we tell them?” you asked pulling him close.
“Anniversary night? Sounds good?” He smiled, kissing you.
You smiled back.
🎃
Halloween day
Tony and Steve were to arrive in the evening you were busy with last minute preparations. At this moment you were not thinking about Frank. You were excited to meet and celebrate with Tony and Steve. You had called everyone around 6 PM so you still had half an hour before the guests arrived. And Tony and Steve’s flight was late so they were to arrive by 6:30 PM. For the last time you were checking if everything was in the place and your eye caught Frank’s house. All the lights were out. You remembered him telling he didn’t like decorating his house for Halloween but just because you had carved a pumpkin he decided to keep it on his window. That pumpkin was missing too.
You tried calling him but the no response. In fact the lady said the number you’re calling is switched off. You were worried and hence you decided to go look for him.
To your surprise the front door was locked and so was his back door. Million thoughts ran in your head. But you remembered him showing you the secret passage to his house that opened in the backyard. You went in through the passage. It was dusty and filled with cobweb. As Frank had told you the passage opened in his basement. Although scared you found a way upstairs. You didn’t expect what you saw.
The inside looked like no one lived there for over a decade. No cute sofa covers, no decorative no nothing you witnessed with Frank. The walls had mold, furniture was broken and there was a peculiar sting. Nothing you remembered was there. It was like you hallucinated the three weeks. You were shivering and sweating at the same time. Your eyes watered and lips quivered. Suddenly the basement door behind you closed making you jump in fear.
A part of you wanted to run. A part of you wanted to find answers. You choose the latter. You roamed around the house looking for some sense of familiarity. Looking for answers. The sting grew stronger now. You opened the door only to be greeted by horror.
On the bed lay Frank. Half decomposed wearing the shirt he often wore claiming to be his favorite one.
Your screamed was silenced by the sight before you.
Your feet somehow dragged you back but you tripped and fell down the stairs losing your conscious. You woke up to greeted by the darkness. Your first instinct was to grab the phone and call for help. Your blurred vision was strong enough to let you know your phone had died. With a thumping headache you tried to get up on your wobbly legs. When the memory came back to you, you made a run for the door. You ran out from the main door towards the gate only to re-enter from the backyard. Your head was still woozy you thought. So you ran in the house, again to the main door from there to the gate. Once more you ended up coming to the backdoor.
You began crying. But you decided not to give up. You went up to the backyard wall you shared with your house and tried climbing up the wall. Jumping on your side of the yard you still ended up being in Frank’s yard. You did it again and again and again until you gave up and cried in frustration.
You were trapped.
“I know the feeling.” Came Frank’s voice.
You looked up at him. He was standing before you in flesh and bones. Although his face was mutilated. Like his head was shot with a gun.
He came close to you, giving you a hand to get up. You flinched moving away from him.
“Please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” you begged.
He only chuckled.
“Can’t do anything munchkin.” He called you by your pet name. “This...” he gestured around. “Is not me.”
Frank began walking back into the house. “You can stay there all night running in the circles or you can see your friends for the last time.” He said as he walked off.
You were confused now more than ever. You followed Frank. “What do you mean?” you asked angrily. “Answer me!” you demanded when he didn’t give an answer. “What did you…” your eyes fell where Frank was standing.
Your body was been taken away by paramedics. While Steve and Tony hugged each other and cried. You looked outside there was ambulance, police and all your friends who were supposed to attend the party. Tears filled your eyes. You tried hugging both your friends for one last time but all they could do was shiver. Steve held Tony in his arms and walked away. You walked with them till the gate. Where you heard the cops tell them the death was due to falling down the stairs and impact on your head. You cried harder knowing no one will hear you. You tried following Steve and Tony but they moved ahead leaving you entering the backyard again.
Your legs gave up. You hugged yourself and cried, Frank being the only one to hear you and comfort you. As much as it broke him to see you like this, he was happy he wasn’t going to be alone. He had you. And eventually you would accept your fate just like he did.
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chasingmidnights · 1 year
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⚠️⚠️⚠️ Brace yourselves!
Marvel Characters (plus our beloved Sheriff Lee Bodecker) as Death Eaters! And I freaking love how these turned out!
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And all that I have
Part 8 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series
Warnings: Smut (18+), cockwarming, conversations about CNC (consensual non-consent) play, kink discussions, talks about non-consensual kinks, toxic relationship, conversations about burglary, insecurities, angst, obsession with reader, mild body insecurity. Charred the dove and the dove kinda liked it.
Disclaimer: I want to be clear that although the conversations are centred around non-consent, the entire thing is completely consensual, if reader was uncomfortable, the conversation would stop. They are discussing a scene they plan to do in the future, so be warned that this will come up later in this series.
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You loved him.
You knew it now, without a doubt.
You’re gazing at him from your spot at your desk, peeking over your laptop so that it’s not obvious to him that you’re staring.
You watch him scratch at his eyebrow, deep in thought as he reads the report on his desk. You feel your stomach flip as he squints for a second, no doubt reading something he disagrees with on the page.
He runs the backs of his fingers over his cheek, scratching at his beard, deep in thought, unaware that just a little distance away, you’re admiring him with every piece of your heart.
Whatever  you had felt for anyone else before was nothing compared to what you were feeling for him right now. Your relationship with Dominic had been nothing but a shell, hollow, it had been filled with moments of self- doubt, separated by spaces of indifference that you’d tried to convince yourself was happiness. But it wasn’t, it wasn’t contentment or satisfaction or delight. Being with Dominic had been nothing but a mediocre meal when you were starving, only perceived as amazing because you were unfed.
Now, with Billy, you knew what it was like to really feel.
“Billy.” You say softly, watching him blink and raise his head. He gives you a tired smile.
“Yeah?”
“I’m bored.”
The corner of his lip twitches before it pulls up into a smile.
He looks down at his report before looking back up at you. 
“Feeling for anything in particular?”
You study him for a moment, before closing your eyes.
“It’s been two weeks since we last had sex-”
“Two weeks and six days…” He pauses when you open your eyes to look at him curiously, “...To be exact, but,” He clears his throat, “who’s counting?”
You can’t help planting your face in your hands and letting out a little laugh.
“Fine, it’s been two weeks and six days, and there’s still about a week left before we can- and I really want a distraction from it.”
He swallows, nodding eagerly, in full agreement with your words.
“I get it," Billy agrees, and you watch him drop his papers onto the desk with a decisive thump, "It's been actual hell to not be able to follow through with any of the things I want to do to you."
You give him an amused raise of your eyebrows, a slow feeling of delight spreading in your abdomen. You take a slow breath to help ease the feeling.
“Well, that didn’t help distract me, just made me want you more.”
The look on his face is one of pure mischief.
“Oops.” Is his only response.
You blink at his audacity.
“You know,” You say, pushing yourself to a stand, “You really shouldn’t tease, there’s no chance of you winning this.” You advise, moving toward him. You don’t stop till you’re leaning against his desk. 
You take your time, moving his phone and staple remover out of the way, and when it’s just papers, you lie down on his desk, smiling proudly as you turn to face him.
The muscle in his jaw jumps as he clenches his teeth, eyes skimming your body as you lie on his desk, knees bent for comfort. After a moment, the pins in your hair begin to stick your scalp and you grunt as you unpin your hair and let it splay across his reports.
“Everytime you tease me, I play this game in my head where I come up with payback.” He says, eyes fixed on you, “At the rate you’re going, you’re not gonna be able to walk after.”
You smile at him, your only response is to raise one hand, and undo the top button of your shirt.
His eyes follow the movement. 
“I doubt,” You hum undoing another button, “That you’d be able to last long after four weeks of no sex.”
“Maybe not.” He sighs, “But I’ll find a way.”
When you reach for a third button, his hand reaches up to cover yours.
"Mercy." He whispers finally, "You're pretty, and I want you and I don't know how much more of this I can take."
"Poor baby." You tease.
He grunts out a laugh, closes his eyes and shakes his head.
"God, you're really in for it when I’m fully healed."
“What am I in for?” You tease, tugging your shirt open as wide as possible.
He looks up, as if asking a higher being for his sanity back.
“You really wanna know? It might scare you.”
“God I hope it does.”
He groans, low in the back of his throat.
“Alright. I’ll tell you.” He looks down at you again, the back of his fingers tracing over your cheek softly.
You smile, closing your eyes as he touches you softly.
“I want to tie you to our bed, and use you whenever I want. I want to leave that sweet little cunt dripping with my come.”
He lets out a soft sigh, his thumb tracing over your lips gently.
“I want to… rent a cabin in the woods, and chase you, make you run, play with you and when I catch you- I want to make you regret running.”
You swallow, excitement swells like a wave within you.
“I’d love that.” You confess to him softly, “Make me regret running from you, sir.”
You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his eyes a hue of darkness you’ve never seen before.
His fingers slip down your chin, tracing its way over your jaw.
“I didn’t expect you to be so… open about this.”
Maybe I'm just right for you, you think helplessly.
You smile up at him.
“I’ve always wanted to explore that side of myself, but Nic wasn’t very accommodating, so I hid those desires from him. But I’ve… I've wanted to be touched the ways you want to touch me for a long time.”
You think about the last time you’s asked Dominic to choke you- he’d done it so poorly, despite the way it had intensified your orgasm, and then he’d never done it again, it was like he wasn’t willing to learn what really got you off, so why would you ever try to push him further, or ask him for more?
Billy grips your jaw tightly, pulling you back into the present, into his dark, hungry eyes.
“Let’s come up with something, that we can,” His tongue darts out to swipe at his bottom lip eagerly, “do together.”
You feel a smile creep onto your face.
“Of course, Mister Russo.”
He leans in, his lips meeting yours softly, contradicting the rough implications of his words.
“Come sit on my lap.” He offers when he finally breaks from the kiss, and you nod easily, rising from his desk, giggling when you feel some papers stick to your arms. He helps you remove them, and then guides you into sitting on his lap, your legs being tossed over one of the arms of his chair.
“Will this even hold us?” You ask, resting your cheek against his chest.
He wraps an arm around you, humming an affirmative.
“Am I hurting you?” You check next, worried.
“Not at all, Mrs. Russo.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head, “Now, tell me about your limits.”
You smile, looking down, playing with your fingers.
“I’m not that into anal, or hitting. Those are hard limits. I like being spanked.”
Billy hums in acknowledgement, his arm on your knee to keep you steady.
“What about slapping?”
You feel your insides clench.
You shake your head, looking up at him.
He smiles, the hand on your knee moving up to cup your cheek.
“So you like small amounts of pain? But nothing harder than a spank?”
“Yeah.” you answer, breathless at the conversation. No one had ever made you feel this comfortable and safe talking about topics like this.
“I like being scared.” You offer up, “I wanna be scared into acting like a good girl.”
He makes a low sound in the back of his throat.
“God you’re so fucking hot.”
You giggle in disbelief.
“What about pet names? I know you like the nice ones, but what about degrading ones?”
“I like ‘slut,’” You offer, “But not ‘bitch’ or ‘whore.’”
You groan when a thought pops into your mind.
“Literally, I think calling me your little plaything would make me see stars.”
His laugh is deep and alluring.
“What about you?” You ask, desperate to hear him affirm your desires with his own, “Tell me some things you like.”
“The idea of forced breeding is nice,” He starts, and you nod eagerly, already obsessed with that idea, held down and made to take his cum, being teased about having his kids. It makes your skin flush with heat.
“I have- uhhhhh-” He hesitates, and you adjust yourself to watch him carefully.
“Sorry, fuck, it’s embarrassing to say.” He mutters, and you realise that maybe he needs some reassurance.
You raise your hand, cupping his cheek, loving the feel of his coarse beard against your hand. You trail lower, fingers caressing his neck, before you try to slip your fingers under the collar of his button up shirt.
“You can literally tell me anything. I won’t run, I promise.”
He goes still, looking up at you, something unnameable in his eyes. After a moment, he blinks, looking down.
“I have a little fantasy about being a thief, maybe you have something valuable I want. Maybe it’s not what you think it is.”
You swallow, nodding your head eagerly, thinking about what it would be like to find him rifling through your home, touching things that weren't his to touch. You think about the way he’d grab you, about the way he’d lean in to kiss you harshly, the way he’d rip at your clothes-
“T-that’s a nice idea.” You whisper hoarsely. 
You think about him all masked up and taking you on the floor of your home. You shift a little in discomfort caused by your definite arousal.
“I can't- I really need to be inside you.” He rushes out.
“Couch?” You offer, and then you slip off of his lap when he nods.
While he settles himself, you reach up under your skirt, pulling your panties down the length of your legs, smiling when you catch him staring at you.
You carefully climb onto him, reaching to undo his belt, the sound of it making you more and more aroused. 
“You're so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, and you glance up at him feeling a little shy under his obsidian gaze.
“Thanks.” You whisper, your voice so soft that you barely hear it.
The back of his hand traces your cheek.
“Do you need help?” He asks, and you manage to be amused at the question, considering how absolutely wet you were between your thighs.
You shake your head, clenching when you finally get his cock free, giving him a few gentle strokes that has him groaning and dropping his head back.
He's so big, heavy in your hand, you love the slight curve of him, the wideness.
“Ready?” You ask, and he raises his head to look at you.
“If you are.” He says, voice pained.
You lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips before raising your hips to guide his thick cock to your entrance.
His head falls back again, his breathing shallow as he stares wide-eyed at the ceiling.
When you start slowly sinking down on him, you watch him suck in a deep breath, his hands gripping harshly at the couch.
“You're so wet, sweetheart. Fuck.” Billy exclaims, finally able to look at you once more.
You clench around him, your prolonged denial in support of his, claws at the walls inside your mind.
You feel a pinch of pain, the size of him stretching you open but you pay it no mind, your wetness makes taking him in so much easier.
Your eyelids flutter as you sink down onto him fully, you bite your lip harshly when the head of his cock presses firmly to your cervix.
“Oh my god.” You groan, panting, unable to comprehend the world around you with his cock so deep within you.
Before him, you weren't so desperate. You could usually go a month without sex without any problem at all, now though, Billy made lasting four weeks the biggest challenge.
He stays perfectly still, But you can't help yourself, making micromovements on his cock, rolling your hips a little just so you can feel something more.
“Princess.” He warns, and then groans loudly when he feels you clench hard around him in response. He loses himself for a moment, rolling his hips into you, before he grits his teeth, stopping his motions.
“You've never called me that one before.” You purr, trying to distract him while keep your body still.
His hands grip your thighs, blunt fingers pressing into your skin, sliding up to grip your ass harshly.
“It's cause I've got you so spoiled right now.” He hisses, "Couldn't tell you no if I wanted to.”
It makes you clench down on his cock a second time. You watch your own desperation mirror itself in his expression.
“You're so big, Mister Russo.” You moan, gripping his shoulders to keep your body steady.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, to relax the vise grip your cunt has around his stiff erection.
Billy has always thought of himself as a man with great strength, but it's in this very moment, he learns precisely how weak he is. Watching his gorgeous, breathtaking wife, try her best to sit still on his cock, brings out a darkness in him, gives him ideas of what exactly he's going to do the moment he can.
No woman has ever felt as good as you, and he knows no woman ever will.
You're having your own debate in your head at the same time, wondering how you're going to last another week without him fucking you into oblivion.
“Tell me what you want to do to me.” You plead, eyes squeezed shut to hide from him.
He doesn't speak for a moment, the only sound filling the room is both of your laboured breaths.
“I want to see you submit to me completely.”
You squeeze your eyes tighter, nodding.
I want that too.
“And I don't care how hard it is, or how long it takes, I want to fuck you until you're just my messy pile of wife, no brain at all.”
You whine, a low sound in the back of your throat, you can almost taste the pleasure on your tongue as if it’s something physical.
You roll your hips, feeling him inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass tightens.
Your eyes meet his, half lidded, panting and desperate as you gaze at one another, you know that it wouldn't take much to get you off, and you're trying your hardest not to, you really really want to support him this way.
It makes you a true mess, aroused beyond thought. You can see it in his eyes too, delirious yearning looking right back at you.
“What else?” You ask, needing to know the exact ways he wanted to unravel you.
He licks his bottom lip.
“I wanna fill you up, watch my come drip right out of you with the number of times I come inside you.”
“Yeah? M-maybe you can… use a plug if you get tired of watching your cum drip out.”
The sound he makes next is nothing short of a gowl, pulling you closer until your noses brush, You swear there's a fire in his eyes that you've never seen before.
“I can't stop picturing it,” he whispers roughly, one hand leaving your ass, trailing around to your front. You cry out when the tips of his fingers press to your aching clit, “The way you'll look when I'm done with you, passed out of course, my come messy between your thighs, I'll ask you if you're okay and you wouldn't be able to do anything more than make a little sound.” You tilt your head to the side when his finger begins rubbing softly at your swollen bud, he doesn't take kindly to the movement, his other hand reaching to grip the back of your head, forcing you back to him, “Maybe I'd keep fucking you. Even when you're out cold I could still fill you. You'd be so far gone you wouldn't even want me to stop.”
You nod, whining, knowing that you'd let him do anything he wanted so long as he was doing it to you.
“I know how that makes me look- I've been so ashamed of this side of me, but I want this, every little bit of it, and I want you.” You confess.
“There's nothing wrong with you I promise.” He says, leaning in to kiss you softly, his fingers speeding up their touch on your clit.
You gasp into his mouth.
“S-stop or I'll-” You find that the words evaporate on your tongue.
“You'll what, little wife? Come around my cock? Don't you want to?”
You shake your head violently.
“Not if you can't. Don't make me.”
He drags his fingers away, and you sigh in relief despite the way your body burns, aching for you to just take the edge off.
He kisses you again, harsh and all-consuming, you hum happily, trying to return his passion with a little of your own.
“No more.” He says, and you nod, rising from his cock, your cunt clenching as you get free of him, registering the emptiness, before you feel disappointment immediately follow.
He reaches down, grunting as he wraps his fist around the base of his cock, squeezing in what you can only assume is a method to avoid orgasm.
He’s beautiful, the way his skin is so flushed and his breaths are shallow and you think it’s mostly because of you, and you wonder why on earth would someone like him ever-
You swallow nervously, looking away.
You don’t want to ask, exhausted with your own insecurities to voice them.
Luckily you don’t have to, because at the same time, your cell on your desk starts ringing.
You turn to it, standing, adjusting your skirt before taking the few steps to it. You sigh internally when you see it’s your mother calling.
“Hey mom.” You greet softly.
“Hello. I’ve been sending so many messages. Why haven’t you responded? I thought you were dead.”
You try to hold it in but a laugh comes out against better judgement.
“Dead? Really? Wouldn’t someone have given you a call?”
“Who? Who’s going to call me if you die? Dominic? Your friends? This mysterious husband I have never met that might be the person doing the killing?”
“Why was murder the first thing you thought of?” Humour dripping from your voice.
“Because you’re living with a random stranger and I’m very worried.”
You let out a slow breath.
“I get it mom, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to reply to your messages, I’ve been trying to take care of Billy.”
After a moment, you swear you can hear the anger leave her over the phone.
“Okay well… how is he?”
You feel like you've won something.
“He's doing great, recovering well, that's what the doctor said, a few more weeks and he'll be recovered.”
“That's good to hear. When am I meeting him?”
“Soon.” You promise.
“That's fine. I also have something I want send to you. Can you give me your new mailing address?”
“Yeah, no problem, I'll message it to you.”
She's silent for a long time, and you know she's thinking about saying something terrible to you. You tilt your head back in frustration.
“Mom? You still there?” You ask politely.
“Are you doing okay? Dominic said you gained some weight.”
Your mouth parts in surprise.
“Why are you still talking to him?” You ask in disbelief, looking down at your body automatically. Why did everyone care so much about the way you looked?
“I called him. I wanted to hear his side of the story and to hear more about this Billy guy.”
You stiffen, realising that Billy was still in the room somewhere overhearing this conversation.
“Tell me that you didn't believe a word he said.” You beg.
“Some of it was definitely a lie, I remember when you'd called to tell me you'd broken up, that sounded genuine. I don't think you actually cheated on him, and I know you well enough to know that gold digging isn't your style.”
You smile, “Thank you.”
“But,” she continues, “One thing that confuses me is the custom rings. How did those happen?”
“Um,” you squeeze Your eyes shut, shaking your head, “We um,” Fuck, you didn't know what to say, “We had them made the day after.” You lie.
“Why? Why a stranger? Wouldn't you have tried to get the marriage annulled first?”
Shit.
“Um, we tried and then decided not to on the same day. Hey mom? I gotta go, my next meeting arrived early.”
“Okay, cupcake, talk to you soon.”
“Yeah,” you say with a shaky voice, “Bye, love you.”
You hang up before you can hear her parting words.
You stare at your phone, forgetting how to breathe for a long moment.
When he says your name, you turn quickly, looking at him. You finally find the strength to take in a breath.
“I'm fine. I just need a minute, be right back.” You rush out, walking out the room without a second thought.
You press your hand to the wall outside, taking a few deep breaths. You wanted to hide, to stop being perceived at all.
You glance at Martha, sitting at her desk, typing into her computer. When she senses you looking, she turns her head with a smile.
“Are you doing alright, Mrs. Russo? Do you want me to get you some water?”
Mrs. Russo. That was you.
You straighten.
“I'm okay, thank you though.” You say with a smile, turning in the direction of the elevators.
You press the button for his floor when you're inside, and only after you shift your feet impatiently, do you realize that you're not wearing any panties.
It gives you more confidence if anything, you were just sitting on your husband's cock, and he'd asked you to. He'd called you beautiful, he'd wanted you. 
You squeeze your hands into fists, Dominic would not take him from you.
He’s in a meeting, his receptionist says to you, apology in her voice, and when you inquire with who, you find out that it’s just his boss.
You give her a smile, before walking right past her desk and knocking on his door.
You open it without waiting for a response, a smile on your face when you see both men looking at you.
“Sorry to interrupt, but can I please have a moment to speak with Dominic? It’s urgent.”
Both men glance at each other, and you know that his boss would not deny you your request.
“Of course,” The man says, rising from his chair, “We’ll pick this up later.”
Dominic only nods, his face set into harsh lines.
The door closes behind him softly, and you don’t speak for a moment, studying the landscape picture on his wall.
“That day we broke up,” You declare, not turning to look at him yet, “You told me that I wasn’t as pretty as some of your old girlfriends, you told me my laugh was irritating, that my friends annoyed you. You gave me reason upon reason as to why you didn’t like me and why we weren’t a good match, and I’d sat there and apologised to you.”
“Look,” He interjects, “I’m sorry I was so harsh-”
“-I’m not done.” You interrupt, turning to look at him, showing him that there was nothing between you anymore, that he could look into your eyes all he wanted, he would not find the version of you he once knew.
He lets out a breath, raising his eyebrows to seem amused by your intervention. 
You didn't care.
“I can’t believe I ever did that, apologise to you for not being what you wanted. If I could go back, I’d tell you to go fuck yourself.”
He blinks, stiffening his shoulders.
“And then, you come back, assuming that I’d forgive you for the shit you said, and get back together with you. But I was never going to, marriage or not, I’d rather be alone forever than spend another minute with you.”
“So stop trying to mess with me, stop trying to destroy my life over something that happened after you broke up with me. You can’t hurt me anymore, and if you try to, I’ll show you exactly what I’m made of.”
You turn to the door, reaching for the handle.
“I love you.” He blurts, making you freeze in place.
You can’t help it, laughing softly at his admission.
You pull his door open, a smile still on your face as you glance back at him.
“You don’t even know the meaning of the word.” 
.
“Where’d you go?” Billy asks when he sees you come in a few minutes later.
“To give some closure.” You say with a smile, approaching him, cupping his face in your hands, and leaning in to place a kiss on his lips.
You feel him relax under you, you hum softly at the feeling of it.
“Are you in any pain?”
“A little,” He confesses, “I might have pushed myself a little too much.”
Your eyebrows draw together, worried that you might have hurt him.
“I’m sorry, my full weight-”
“-was perfect. It was the tensing up when I got too close to coming that caused the strain.”
You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, one hand pressing to your tummy.
“Why do you even like me?” You rush out, in disbelief that you were literally making power moves just now, to come back to him with your insecurities.
Maybe power was exhausting to hold on to for you.
“Because I do.” He says softly, with an encouraging tone of voice, “Because you see me.” He’s quiet for a moment, biting the edge of his lip in deep thought. 
“Growing up in the system was bad, it was real shitty. I don't think I’ll ever truly recover from the abandonment. I pretend I’m okay, and I pretend that I’m whole but,” He shakes his head, “I’m just pieces on the inside. Broken glass.”
“You make me feel like something more. A mosaic.” He utters, as if the word has just come to mind.
You take in a deep breath, your face contorted into one of sorrow.
I love you, Billy Russo.
You simper, leaning in to kiss him again.
“Let’s go home.” You suggest.
He’s nodding before you can even get the sentence out.
.
The hardest thing is keeping your hands to yourself. You want to touch him all the time, run your fingers through his hair, slide your hands under his t-shirt, gently trace the veins on the back of his hands. You want to smooth your thumbs over his eyebrows and taste his collarbones and you try your best to resist for a couple of reasons.
The first reason is that you don’t want to get him hard- you don’t want to torment him any more than he’s already being tormented. The second reason is because you worry he’ll eventually get annoyed with your insistent touching, that he may find it irritating eventually. The smallest hint that he’s getting annoyed with you might be enough to dissolve you into thin air, you don’t think you’d ever recover from it.
So sometimes you find yourself reaching for him, only to draw back at the last second, hoping he doesn’t see how hard you’re fighting yourself.
You should be more open about it- you know that- he tries so hard to open up to you and the least you can do is respond with the same effort.
And yet, your experience with Dominic lingers. 
You and him had been so good at one point too, and the next thing you know, every aspect of you had irritated him.
How long would it take before Billy felt that way too?
This was bad, you had no support system in place, no one to talk to aside from him, no one to tell you that your thoughts were unreasonable. This, this was why staying with him wasn’t sustainable.
You’re lying motionless in the bath when he finds you after excusing himself to take a work call.
You turn when you catch movement, smiling up at him when he approaches. He’s got an apologetic look on his face, one that tells you that he has to leave you alone before he even says it.
“I’m sorry.” He breathes, coming to sit on the edge of the tub, “There’s an issue with our servers and I have to go.”
“It’s 8 p.m.” You state, “You can’t do this tomorrow?”
He shakes his head.
“Some of our guys are at risk without the intel.”
You take a deep breath, giving him your easiest smile. You wanted to fight, but maybe in this moment you didn’t know if you were capable of winning.
“Alright, Billy, I’ll see you later.”
He leans in, kisses the top of your head, then your cheek, and then tilts your head up for a quick kiss.
He leaves the room, and you hear him grab his things before the front door closes.
You close your eyes, letting your body sink below the surface of the water.
.
You sneak out maybe an hour later.
You wait by the door till the guard stationed there gets up to use the bathroom, and then you slip out in your fluffiest coat, making it to the elevator right outside with your heart slamming into your ribs.
Only after the doors close do you realise that you don’t have anything to help you get back inside, and that you should have maybe left a note. No worries though, you know Billy will call once he gets home and finds you gone.
You’d called Martha earlier, and begged her to find the address you were looking for, apologetic for disturbing her evening.
You take a taxi there, and you knock on the door softly once, in the cold air, before realising that you hadn’t knocked loudly enough.
The second time you knock, you hear footsteps, and you suck a deep breath in, smiling at the peephole before you hear the door unlock.
Maria looks concerned, her lovely brunette hair pulled over one shoulder.
“Are you okay?” She says with worry heavy in her tone.
You try to give her a cheerful expression.
“I’m great, I was just a little lonely, Billy left a while ago.”
She opens the door wider to let you in.
“Yeah, Frank left too.”
“I figured,” You admit, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind some extra company?”
“Of course! I’m just cleaning up. You can hang your coat over there.” She says, pointing to a place behind you.
You thank her, shedding your coat with minimal difficulty and hanging it on the spot she had pointed to.
You follow her into the kitchen, where she’s mostly done with her dishes, only a few left to dry.
“Can I help?” You offer.
“No, thank you, I’m almost done. I have some leftovers if you want. Chicken parm, or do you want tea or coffee or something?”
You’re a little shy in her presence, trying to pick something easy so that she doesn’t insist.
“Water, for now, though I might pick at your teas later.” You say politely.
She smiles, and you feel so soothed by it, you find yourself smiling back. Not long after, she places a glass of water in front of you. You thank her again, sipping on it gratefully.
“So,” She starts off easily, looking over her shoulder to glance at you while she wipes a pink plate dry, “What brings you here at this hour?” 
God, you wanted to tell her the truth, fold like a stack of cards because you didn’t think you could lie to her. For once, you wanted to be honest about your situation.
But you couldn’t. You couldn’t do that to her, and you definitely couldn’t do that to Billy. You’d ruin their friendship if you said anything, you’d ruin his relationship with Frank, he’d hate you for it.
You let out a pained breath.
“All my friends kind of hate me.” You murmur, deep in thought, “and you don’t seem like you’d hate me.”
She nods in understanding.
“Why don’t you tell me everything?” She says easily, and you nod, willing to try.
“My ex- Dominic- we’d been together for two years before we broke up. He works at Anvil, and for a long time I thought I was going to spend forever with him.” You look down into the glass of water, studying the stillness.
“Looking back at it now, I realise how wrong we were together. He never really liked me, I was just a convenience, he only kept me around because it was better than being alone, you know? We took care of each other at first, but somewhere along the way he stopped caring and then any little thing I did pissed him off.”
You watch her finish one plate, reaching for another.
“Our breakup was really brutal, he literally just picked me apart and left me outside my apartment, and then three days later I woke up married to Billy.”
“And you think,” She says, interrupting your thoughts, “That this one is going to end up like your last one.”
“Isn’t it?” 
She smiles, shaking her head.
“You wanna know how long I knew Frank before we got married?”
“A reasonable amount of time?” You offer.
She laughs.
“Four months.”
Your eyebrows raise in surprise.
“I’m in no place to judge.”
She grins.
“I got pregnant three months into dating him, and we were married a month later. The first time I met Billy, was stepping on him when I woke up to pee in the middle of the night.” Her shoulders shake as she laughs, remembering the entire story.
“According to Frank, he’d climbed into our small apartment at the time from the fire escape, drunk off his ass, and crashed on the floor before Frank could help him to the couch in the living room. The way Frank says it, he just tossed a sheet over Billy, and stuffed a pillow under his head where he passed out and went back to sleep. I woke up, and stepped on him and he didn’t make a sound,” She laughs,” I screamed though, because there was a random man on the floor and I’d just put my full weight on his leg and he hadn’t made a sound. I thought he was dead.” 
You try not to grin at the imagery.
“After some convincing from Frank, I fell asleep, and in the morning both men were gone. Billy… well he didn’t like me at first. He was sure I’d trapped his friend in the marriage or something, but over time, he… honestly he didn’t really warm up to me until I went into labour.”
You sit there, transfixed by her story.
“Frank thinks she came a week early, but she was just on time. He was supposed to get back before she came but something top secret kept him there longer- anyways- Frank called Billy and Billy showed up at my doorstep in maybe ten minutes. Back then, he had this old, beat up Harley- strictly american- you know?” She glances at you as if you’re supposed to understand what she’s saying, but you can only shake your head in confusion.
She grins, “Sorry, he used to be real patriotic, American brands as much as possible,” She shakes her head, “He’s grown out of that since his discharge. Anyway- that was maybe the first day he actually cared about me, held my hand all the way to the delivery room, almost punched a nurse that told him family only. I was so mean to him too, probably almost broke his hand with the contractions. And then Lisa decided to wait, had me in labour for fourteen hours.”
Your eyes widen drastically, mouth dropping open. She laughs when she sees your face, finishing up her last mug to sit next to you.
“Yeah, gave Frank just enough time to get there. And then there were four of us.”
She blinks, smiling, deep in thought.
“Billy was scared of her, he didn’t hold her for at least two months after, he’d somehow worked it into his head that she wouldn’t like him, but one night I got real sick, and while Frank was taking care of me, he’d begged Billy to come over and take care of Lisa. The first time Frank put her in Billy’s arms, she cried, at the top of her lungs. I thought Billy would have given up immediately, but he didn’t, he rocked her in his arms till she was asleep, and even after he held on to her for as long as he physically could.”
“The moral, of my very long story is that Billy isn’t someone who gives up at the first sign of trouble, and he’s definitely not someone that gets annoyed with someone he loves. If he chooses you, he’s going to stick with you. He knows what it’s like to have no one on his side, and because of that, his loyalty is unbreakable.”
Your heart squeezes in your chest. You wanted to know him the way she did. You wanted stories like this to smile at when you thought of him. You wanted to know what he looked like, riding an old era motorbike, and to see him so drunk he can’t make it to a couch.
“I lost all of my friends because of him.” You whisper, heartbroken, “They thought I cheated on Dominic. Friends that I loved, blocked me because they thought I’d done something terrible.” 
She reaches to place her hand over yours, squeezing tightly.
“Maybe they weren’t very good friends to begin with.” She suggests softly.
You nod, understanding the point she was trying to get across. 
She makes you tea, something calming that makes you sluggish, offers up one of Billy’s old shirts for you to sleep in, and shows you to the guest room. Not once, does she suggest you go back to his home, so easily welcoming, that sleep is attainable within minutes.
Maria, considers for a moment while watching you sleep, that she should tell someone that you’re here. No doubt Billy doesn’t know you left, travelled all the way here by your lonesome. She unlocks her phone, pulls up her husband’s number, and hesitates on the call button. Maybe Billy’s reaction to finding you gone would set the both of you straight. 
She grins deviously, putting her phone away and getting ready for bed herself.
.
It’s almost three a.m when Billy gets back home. He’s tired, his shoulders sagging with having to carry the weight of them. His eyes hurt, feels so much discomfort in his whole body that only sleep can provide.
His shower is quick, functional, though the warm water begs him to stay and enjoy it, he gets out as soon as he can, ambling to the closet to grab a pair of comfortable pants for sleeping.
He moves in the dark, working on a memory of where everything is to stop him from making too much noise, not wanting to turn on the lights either, he really doesn’t want to wake you.
In the dark, his bed is deliciously comfortable, he lies on his front, before the area where his appendix was removed screams in protest and he’s forced to roll onto his back. He tucks his body under the soft duvet, feeling a thick sense of coziness overcome him.
He reaches a hand out- won't be fully comfortable until he touches your skin, confirming that you're there. In his drowsy state, he struggles to find you. He groans, moving even closer to where he thinks you are, fingers scanning the bed, only finding chilled sheets. He opens his eyes, squinting at the other side of the bed and sees no shape that even resembles you. You simply weren't here.
Were you sleeping somewhere else? 
He sits up, rubbing an eye so that he can see a little more clearly, turning to flip on the bedside lamp to confirm that you really weren't next to him.
Yeah, definitely not in bed.
He stands, sways, groans, pads his way to the living room to find it empty, then searches your office, then his. He says your name, but the only thing that answers is the silence.
He grabs his phone, looking into the almost too bright screen, trying to decipher words that help him find your contact. He squints, pressing the call button before waiting.
Your phone rings and rings and rings and no one answers.
It's then, that Billy begins to feel the panic. He takes a deep breath, calling your number again, searching his house for anything he might have missed, anything at all that tells him where his wife had gone.
He calls for you, all sleep erased from his mind, he does a finer walk through of his place, looking for items out of place, signs of struggle.
If you'd left, someone would have seen you and told him, right?
What if you'd been kidnapped?
Billy feels his lungs seize up.
He looks down at his phone again, hands shaking, opening up the location app he'd installed just in case. He'd told you about it, told you how to disable it if you really didn't want to be found. This would help him narrow down what kind of situation he was in.
He lets a breath out when he sees your little symbol pop up- you'd chosen the image of a black cat for some reason- he zooms out, eyebrows drawing together when he sees where your phone is.
He closes the app, calls Frank.
“Whad'ya want, Russo?” Comes Frank's sleepy voice after a few rings.
“Is my wife in your house?” Billy asks, a lot calmer than he feels.
Frank says your name in question.
“Yes, Frankie, ask Maria.”
He hears some shuffling.
“It's four in the morning Bill, I'm not waking my wife for that, I'll just check the guest bedroom.”
Billy waits, listening to Frank's slow breaths, his hand gripping his phone tightly, his other hand curled into a fist.
“Oh yeah, there she is.”
Billy sags with relief.
You were okay.
“I'm coming.” Billy announces.
“Use your spare, I'm going to bed.” Frank grunts, before ending the call.
Billy grabs his coat and the keys to his fastest car and nothing more, leaving his apartment quickly, wide awake now more than ever.
He breaks every speed limit possible, makes it to Frank's home in half the time it usually takes. His body hurts as he has to move slowly now, quietly so that he doesn’t disturb the peace in the house.
He uses his spare key, locking the door behind him, double checking Frank's security while he's here. 
He finds the guest bedroom easily, having stayed here countless times, he knows this place like he knows his own.
His stomach twists, he wonders why you left. Did you not want to be around him? Had something else happened? He knew that the chances of you running away were low, ever since he'd shamelessly listened to the conversation between you and Dominic (He'd bugged the office of course) he'd had an inkling that maybe you were growing to love him as much as he loves you.
The door clicks shut behind him, and he feels a sense of ease wash right over him at the sight of your sleeping form. 
He pushes his coat off his shoulders, torso bare underneath as he climbs into bed and hovers over you.
His hands cup your face, waking you with a little start.
“Billy?” You hum, voice so tiny, his little wife disturbed from slumber.
He can't help it, leaning in to kiss you softly, followed by him wrapping his arms around you tightly.
“Why'd you leave home, baby, hmm?” He asks, cheek pressed to the top of your head.
Your voice is muffled in his chest.
“Was lonely.” You say.
It damn near breaks his heart.
“I'm sorry.” He sighs, and he means it with every bone in his body.
“S’alright, you're here now.”
And he is, crawls under the sheets, wraps you in his arms, and feels the stress drip right out of him. Only then, does he allow sleep to take him.
.
He wakes to laughter. He blinks, sitting up, an automatic response to the sound.
Hearing laughter while he slept was never a good sign. In the group home it meant that some poor kid's face was being written on. In the military, it was shaving cream on your hands, or dirt in your bed.
He bolts up, looks around, determines no danger before he relaxes.
He smiles, slips out of bed, and goes in search of one of the shirts he keeps around for situations like these.
.
“Honestly,” Maria says enthusiastically, uncapping the milk she just pulled from the fridge, “I thought we were goners, Billy was still recovering from that gunshot that almost made him bleed out in the desert, and Frank had several grazes, but even injured like that, the burglars never stood a chance.”
Your eyes are wide in suspense.
“Where was Lisa?” 
“In bed beside me, Frank shook me awake and we hid in the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he came and got me cause the fight was over.”
“Holy shit, that sounds terrifying. I've had some almost run-ins with burglars as well at my old place.”
“Really? What happened?” Maria asks, really interested, concern in the undertones of her voice.
“It was close to Christmas and almost everyone in the building was out visiting family, but I was studying for an exam the next day for my old job.” You think back to it, deep in thought, “I remember hearing heavy footsteps in the hall, and then the sound of doors shaking. I had my lights off because they’d made my eyes burn and I was just using my lamp lights, so it maybe looked like I wasn’t home. The person was trying each door, shaking them hard. I can still hear the rattle. I texted Nic, and he’d told me to hide, but before I could call the police, the rattling just stopped. I sat in silence for a long time. I was kind of shocked dumb, and I didn’t call the police because it seemed like he left without any real harm being done. I probably should have, but also I really needed to study for this stupid exam. I did tell my landlord though, and she tightened security and it never happened again. I really regret not calling the police though.”
Maria nods, relating to you.
“Fear can really hold you in place. I’m sure whoever it was, got what they deserve, don’t stress about it too much.”
You smile, mimicking her nod. She really understood you, and you find yourself hooked to the Castles just a little bit more.
Just then her smile widens as her eyes flit behind you for just a second.
You turn to look back curiously when suddenly you get pulled into someone’s arms. You know it’s him from the moment you touch, you grin widely at the way he squeezes you.
“Excuse us for a second, Maria,” Billy says, hand gripping your wrist to tug you in the direction of the guest bedroom, “I need a moment with my wife.”
She nods, before remembering something.
“There are kids in the house.” She warns sternly, locking eyes with Billy.
“Wet blanket.” He shoots back as he tugs you around the corner and out of the room.
The door to the guest bedroom can only slink shut before you’re pressed against it. Your eyes fall shut as his mouth meets yours, your heart fluttering so surely that you’re sure it’ll fly soon. He kisses like he’s starving, hands holding your face, mouth eager against yours, you copy his fervour, pulling him closer by the shoulders, the delight of feeling your passion mirrored isn’t lost on you.
You smile up at him happily when the kiss breaks, only for him to drop his head once again, ever eager for just one more kiss.
“Is everything alright?” You whisper softly, confused about his feverish kisses.
“I’m sorry.” 
“...For?”
He touches the tip of your nose softly with his.
“Where do I even fucking begin? I’m sorry I left you alone, I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to sneak out, I’m sorry that I’m the reason you have no friends-”
“-That one wasn’t really all you,” You interject, “They didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt.”
He shakes his head.
“I’m just… sorry for all the pain I put you through.”
You can’t bear to hear him say it, your throat squeezes tight at the very sound of the words.
“It’s alright,” You reassure, rising onto your toes to kiss him, “We’re alright.”
.
You peek at him while he drives, wondering if now was the best time to talk to him.
He catches you looking, raising an eyebrow curiously, eyes turned back to the road.
You think that maybe there’s no time like the present, and you take a deep breath, reaching out for his hand before you catch yourself, moving your hand back to your side.
Before you can get fully there, he reaches out, taking your hand in his. You turn your head to look at him in surprise.
“Notice you’ve been doing that a lot.” He murmurs, tugging your hand up to his mouth so that he can kiss the back of your hand, “Reaching for me and stopping halfway. Making fists with your hands to stop yourself. Why?”
“I just, don’t want to annoy you is all.”
He huffs in amusement, you feel his warm breath on the back of your hand.
“You’re funny.” He hums, giving your hand another kiss.
“I’m serious.” You whisper.
His lips part, eyebrows drawing together as he slows his driving a little to look at you.
“You’re serious?” He echoes, “You think you could annoy me?”
“I think I could annoy a saint.” You grumble.
“You know that I’m… obsessed with you right?” 
“Are you? I hadn’t noticed.” You say dryly.
He huffs out a breath of amusement for a second time.
“Do you know what that means? It means I’ve seen your medical records.” 
You glance at him, shock running down your spine.
“And?”
“And I’ve done background checks on everyone you’ve ever met.”
You try to swallow but your throat has gone dry.
“And?” You whisper, his hand is still in yours, holding on to you.
“And I know where you went to school, I pulled your student records, I’ve scoured the internet for your face and I’ve probably seen photos of you that maybe you don’t even know existed. I’ve wanted you since the day we met, and nothing could have stopped me,” He turns to look you in the eye, “Not even you.”
“I’m sorry to scare you, but if you think that I don’t know how needy you are, how touch starved, how badly you want to be held, what makes you cry, you’re lying to yourself. I know all of these things, and I want you because of them.”
You close your eyes, trying to process his words in a reasonable way.
God, there had to be something seriously wrong with the both of you. Him, for saying those things, and you, for managing to somehow feel reassured by them, even if there was a little fear mixed in.
You don’t say another word to him the rest of the way back.
There’s a silence all around you as you follow him into the apartment, a whirring in your ear that sounds like waves of static, disconnecting you from reality.
You reach out, gripping his arm tightly. He turns, looking down at you with an unnameable expression.
“I need you.” You say softly through half-gritted teeth, pulling him roughly, feverishly toward the living room.
He doesn’t say a word, and you’re grateful for that, he’s said enough already.
“Take it off.” You breathe, reaching for your own pants, pulling them off, followed by your shirt. He catches the intention behind your movement, and drops his coat easily.
When you get yourself naked, you lie back on the couch, not having to wait long before his naked body covers yours.
“Do you need me to-” He offers, and you silence him by pressing a finger to his lips.
You shake your head, reaching down, pumping his hard cock a few times before guiding him into your dripping wet core.
Billy gasps in surprise.
“Shocked?” You tease, “I thought you knew everything about me.”
His eyes darken, something terrifying crosses his features. He moves his arms, braces one on each side of your head. Your eyes flit to the snake curled over his shoulder.
“I don’t know everything about you,” He hums, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement, “But I will.”
.
.
.
A/N: Happy Holidays to you!
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Unspoken Crimes
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Masterlist
Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, violence, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You finally make a splash at college, but you come to regret being noticed. (short, plus sized reader)
Characters: Frank Castle, Billy Russo
A note on reader characters:
For clarity,  each reader will have a defined nickname when appearing in any installment not their own. This is Sunny. This fic also features Foxy.
Note: It took me ages to finish by I did it.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all like Donkey love Waffles. Take care. 💖
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The blaring alarm startles you awake. You peel your face off the textbook, the page sticking to your cheek for a moment before you can sit up straight. Your study session as usual turned into naptime. You rouse in confusion, as put off by the siren as the missing memory of when you dozed off.
You grip your skull as it pounds with the constant noise and you murmur at your dead laptop. You don’t think your test is going to go very well tomorrow. You stand and stretch out the kinks, the babble of voices and shuffle of footsteps sounding from outside your door.
You go to the door and open it, yawning as you keep a hand over your left ear, the whirling echo in the hall even louder than in your room. Girls wrapped in blankets stagger by sleepily, some drunkenly, eyeliner smeared and uggs clamouring beneath them. As Radeesha passes, you wave to her, trying to catch her attention.
“Hey, what’s going on?” You yell above the alarm.
She shakes her head at you and rolls her eyes. You smile and apologise under your breath. She looks tired and must be as put off by the alarm as you. You watch as the rest of your floor traipse by, some faces you don’t recognise, boyfriends, girlfriends, and other visitors. 
You quickly grab your slippers from beside the door and follow the tide of students to the nearest exit. It must be the fire alarm. A drill at 2am hardly seems likely and you smell smoke. Oh shit, is it for real? Is there a fire?
As you come out into the frigid early morning air, you near Brianna, the girl who lives next door, and voice the question aloud.
“I don’t fucking know,” she grumbles as she shivers under a pink duvet, “the fuck you asking me for, loser?”
You hug yourself and back away. She’s tired. She’s always grumpy when she has to wake up early and it’s really early. You don’t feel too great yourself. You excuse her snappy retort and go to stand near the back of the crowd, clusters of students watching the approach of a wailing red fire truck.
Your teeth chatter and you regret not grabbing more than your woolly slippers. The bottoms have no traction on the icy ground and your thin PJs offer little shield against the billowing winds. You blow into your hands and rub them together as a Campus PD cruiser pulls up beside the fire truck.
The officers speak with one man in a yellow jacket before letting him follow the rest of his crew towards the building. The firefighters disappear inside to clear out the place as smoke plumes from the back of the building. Hopefully it’s nothing too serious.
“I told Carissa candles were against the rules,” a girl you don’t recognise sneers, “she never fucking listens.”
“Could be something else,” someone replies, “gas stoves aren’t exactly the safest around drunk coeds.”
“Says the drunk coed…” the reply comes dryly.
“Everyone, get back,” the officers call out, herding back the hordes with a wave of their arms, “get to the gathering point.”
The taller officer gestures past the wall of students to the bright green sign on the other side of the street. You turn as slowly the bodies begin to retreat, grumbling and griping about the campus police. You slip across the road, the cold biting through your cotton tee and stinging your skin.
“Hey,” you see Radeesha as you step up on the curb, “how’s it going?”
“What do you want?” She scowls.
“Cold out,” you chirp.
“No shit,” she scoffs and sends a look to Emma and mouths ‘what the fuck’? You look back to the building and rock in place, jeez, no one likes being woken up in the middle of the night, do they?
You drift away as you watch the building and a lick of orange gleams through one of the windows. You gasp as several others notice and let out their own surprise. Your eyes round and you worry you might not have a bed to go back to that night.
You shake as the cold crawls up your legs, your fingertips and toes numb, your skin raw and your bones aching. It’s freezing. You squat down and grab your feet, trying to warm them as you try to conserve your body heat. 
The snow crunches under heavy soles and suddenly, you’re knocked over as a leg collides with your shoulder. You squeak as you catch yourself on your hands, fingers sinking into the hard snow. You peer up as a dark figure looks back. The officer’s uniform is lined with iridescent strips that glow in the night and limn his figure.
“What’re you doin’ down there?” He bends and grabs your arm, yanking you to you feet, “where’s your coat?”
“I… I forgot— I didn’t have time–”
“Little thing like you will freeze out here,” he tisks, “we’re all outta blankets…”
You look around and see other students wrapped in the crinkly silver blankets, huddled together as you’re lost in your usual floating solitary.
“It’s okay,” you chime, “I’ll be alright. I’m sure the fire’s not too bad.”
“Aren’t you a chipper little thing,” he remarks as he unzips his coat, “here.” He shrugs out of the jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, “vest makes me sweat anyway.”
“Oh, I can’t–”
“You’re gonna catch cold if you don’t,” he warns with a point in your face, “don’t worry, it’s got my name on it. I ain’t worried about losing it.”
“Uh, thanks, sir,” you sway as he pulls the coat closed around you, his warmth and scent clings to the fabric and surrounds you, “I’ll make sure I give it back.”
“Oh, I’ll come find ya if you don’t,” he warns with a smirk, “now go back with your friends. Can’t have you getting lost out here.”
He looks over at the other students and you give a nod. You sidle over towards the chattering coeds, glancing back at the officer until he finally turns away. Those around you avoid you as you stand amid the crowd, leaving you adrift in the sea of your peers.
You peek down and reach to smooth down the collar. You read the name sewn into the jacket, ‘Castle’. That’s an interesting last name. You retract your hand, pulling the coat snug around you as you’re attention is drawn back to the dorm, the orange glare no longer glowing on the top floor.
As you pass Ellie, another girl on your floor, you give a wave but she doesn't seem to notice. She leans against the boy beside her as you skirt around to the curb and stare across the street. The cold has you wide awake now, maybe you'd have time to actually study.
"Little girl," the other officer emerges in the wode umbrella of the streetlight above, "nice jacket…"
"Oh, uh," you sputter and look down.
"You know it's a serious offense to be stealing from police," he smirks, "and Castle," he flicks the letter beside the zipper, "that's my partner. We look out for each other."
"What--n-no, he let me– he lent it to me, sir, officer," you stutter and look at the name sewn into his matching coat; B. Russo, "I swear, he was just…" you look around, searching for the other man.
"I'm kidding with you, girl," he winks as you turn back to him, "he's too nice for his own good sometimes."
"Oh," you nod, "yeah, he was nice."
"Especially to girls," he adds.
"Hm, ah, well, I forgot my coat."
"Cute," he scoffs, "you like candles?"
"What?"
"Satsuma candles?"
"Um, no, they're prohibited," you frown, realising his inference. "I got one of those plug in thingies."
"Ah, yeah, you wouldn't do anything 'prohibited', would you? You seem like a good girl."
You bite the inside of your lip to keep a grimace from marring your face. He talks in riddles. You shrug.
"I try," you answer half-heartedly.
"Do you know anyone," he lifts a single gloved finger and steps closer, his thick coat rustling, "who likes candles?"
"Well, I…" you glance around as Carissa leans against another girl, barely awake on her feet, "no," you can't be that one. The snitch. You won't make any friends that way, "I don't really know… too many people."
"You don't? Don't you got friends?"
"Erm, I didn't say I didn't," you’re defensive at her accusatory tone, "but they don't live here, is all."
"Relax, I'm sure you're a popular one, mousey," he says derisively, "now you make sure to give my partner his jacket back before you go back to bed." He tucks a thumb into his pocket, "cops don't take too kindly to stealing."
"I–"
"And try not to think too much about him before you fall asleep," he winks, "he's a married man." You frown and shake your head, shocked by his very obvious suggestion. He chuckles and leans in, "but I'm not."
You look around awkwardly. This isn't happening. This doesn't happen to you. The only time a guy ever hit on you was part of a high school bet, one you couldn't win.
"Don't worry, you'll see me around," he stands and shifts his hat, "this is my patrol block. Night watch."
You take a breath and force a smile, "thanks, officer, I uh, think they're letting us back in now."
"I hear them heaters are shit. I got a bit of a magic touch myself if you ever need someone to have a look. Those old radiators just need a little…" he putts his hands out in an almost lewd gesture and gropes the air, "coaxing."
"Um, thank you, okay, sir," you murmur as you back away, "can you give this back for me?" You take the coat off and hand it over, "I got a test tomorrow."
He tilts his head and accepts the coat, but not without grazing your arm and giving a long look to your PJs.
"You're smart not to sleep naked," he snickers as he tucks the thick coat under his arm, "too bad, though."
You don't know how to reply, so you don't. He's an officer, what are you gonna say? Who are you gonna tell? Besides, you heard guys say way worse behind you in class.
"Have a good night," you eke out as you hesitantly step past him.
"You too, mousey," he clicks his tongue, "sweet dreams."
You cross the street and join the train of students lining up to be let back inside. A remnant of smoke lingers in the air and parches your throat. You glance around at the chattering and dazed faces. What a strange night.
📖
Your grandmother always told you you have bad impulse control. You can't help but agree with her as you come out of the corner shop with your haul; a bag of doritos and several fruity energy drinks. The craving drew you out of your dorm into another chilly night, but with another walk across campus ahead of you, you regret more and more the hasty decision for a late night snack.
You swing the bag as you set off, the campus shrouded as distant orbs float around the edges of buildings and between the barren trunks and branches. The green lights atop the square poles and the taller pillars that curve over the walk with lantern-style shades that cast a patchy glow across the ground. You keep your chin down as a chill rattles your bones and you crunch past a snow-dusted bench, turning off down the next path.
Distant echoes of footsteps and muffled tones that could be voices waft in the air. You can't tell as the frigid air and heaps of snow dampen all noise. Cars whish by along the roadways divided by the plots of academies and offices, an eerie feel to the mostly empty sprawl.
As you delve into the shadows of the social sciences facade, you hear the scuff of soles and the gritty crunch of pebbles and frozen snow. A figure specks in a cone of light beneath a towering pole before dissipating into the endless night. You clutch tight the plastic bag as it noisily brushes against your long coat. The stranger is gone without a look in your direction.
You hear another scrape, a soft mewl, a sniffle, and the scatter of a stick across the cold pavement. You gulp as you stop, teetering as you try to decide whether to keep going or take another route. A shaky breath makes up your mind as a whimper piques at the end.
You round the corner, one of the tall square poles at the cross point of the walkways ahead. Between you and the green light is a person. The body sits on the ground, her legs splayed and bent as she cradles her head. You don't know her. Of course you don't, it's impossible to know everyone. It's even hard to keep your professors straight. 
"Uh, are you okay?" You ask gently. She flinches as she raises her chin and looks at you, her eyes hollow with shadows, "did you fall?"
She doesn't say anything, instead planting her hands as she brings her feet down flat. She tries to stand but can't seem to find the strength. You rush forward and offer your hand.
"Pretty icy out here–"
"Icy?" She snarls as she stands for a moment, only to stumble and catch herself on a bench.
"Did you slip?" You ask again and drop your hand to your side.
She shakes her head before she leans forward and grips her temples, "no."
"What happened?" You step closer.
She's quiet as he fixes her rumpled jacket and winces again. You look around, searching for any evidence of what unfolded there. She looks dazed, lost. You wonder if she hit her head.
"Nothing," she utters at last.
You narrow your eyes as you see a metal shape in the crack of the pavement and you bend to pick it up. The kind of button you find on a pair of jeans. You look at her as she wipes grains of dirt from her cheek.
"This yours?"
She shakes her head as she grips the side of the bench and huddles over her lap, "I'm fine–"
"Did someone hurt you?"
Your question hangs. Unanswered. You stare at the button and think of the shadow you saw a few minutes ago. They came from this direction.
"Someone did this–"
"No, it doesn't matter," she touches her stomach as she stands, her legs wobbling from the effort.
"Oh my god," you close your fingers around the button, "we have to tell someone."
You turn on your heel and scurry towards the bright yellow button attached to the pole, 'press for help'. You sense her behind you. She grabs onto your elbow right as you hit the button with your other hand. She spins you to face her as she grabs the front of your parka.
"Why would you do that?" She bellows over the beeping siren as the flashing green hues limn her frazzled features.
"You're hurt," you say bluntly.
"What the fuck are those donut-breathed idiots gonna do about it?" She sneers and lets you go, once more hugging her middle. 
Her fly shows through her open jacket, the top split, buttonless, the denim wet and stained. She turns and hobbles away, thighs daintily kept apart as she takes stunted steps. You follow her as she turns down the next walkway, in the opposite direction of your dorm.
"Wait, I'm trying to help."
"Help? Too late for that."
"But–"
"Don't you get it? Help don't happen. What's that bullshit we gotta listen to at orientation? Be vigilant…"
You scrunch your nose as you scurry beside her. You recall that first day safety presentation. The one with all those statistics, the numbers that made you even more nervous to be away from home.
"But if you don't tell someone, nothing can be done–"
"Nothing would, you–" she stops herself and faces you as you stand at the edge of Elm Plaza, "I appreciate you trying but that's not how these things work." She exhales and shakes her head, "you'd be the only one who believes me. Or cares."
"N-no, that's not right–" 
"No, it's not," she shrugs, "that's life."
You watch her as she struggles to do up her coat. You wish she would listen to you. You're just trying to help her. You wish anyone would let you try. You'd be a great friend if anyone wanted you.
"Look, you should go. I'll be fine–"
A sudden whoop deafens you and had her snapping shut her mouth. She rolls her eyes as she drops her arms rigidly. She turns on her heel to face the curb as the cruiser pulls up. Your heart flutters, they can help you!
The passenger door opens and a familiar man steps out. Tall, slender, dark hair. Officer Russo.
"Ah, good evening, ladies," he shuts the door and leans casually against the car.
The driver side opens and another figure gets out. You recognise Castle too as he rounds the hood of the car, crossing his arms as he comes to stand parallel with his partner. His lips slant slightly as your eyes meet.
"You don't happen to know anything about that alarm, do ya?" Castle asks.
"Nothing," the girl replies, "we're going home. We didn't see anything.'
"Wait," you begin and she elbows you.
"You two on the prowl again? We're not interested so run along and find someone else."
"You know, Foxy," Russo tuts as he wags his finger at her, standing at his full height, "that mouth makes me wanna do things."
"And you make me wanna hurl, fuck off, officer."
"That's no way to talk to a police man doing his duty. Serving and protecting and all that," he rebukes.
"Me and my friend are going home. That's it," she lies, "now you can take your brute and bug someone else. We didn't do anything."
"I don't know if I believe you," Russo steps onto the curb, toe to toe with the girl. Foxy, he called her.
"Hey, shug," Castle nears you, "you know anything about that alarm? You can tell me."
You look at Foxy and she takes a breath, raising a brow as she shakes her head evasively. You should tell the truth. They could find who hurt her. Then again, you heard all the same things she did. Odds are, nothing will happen. It's her choice, not yours. And that's what friends do, they support each other's decisions. 
"No, we just went to the store for some snack," you lift your forgotten bag of goodies.
Russo snatches it and you gasp as the handles nearly tear. He looks inside and fishes out one of the tall cans. "This shit is bad for you," he reads the label, "you girls got an exciting night planned. Need lots of energy?"
"Oh, lots of it," Foxy's tone turns sarcastic as she sticks her tongue out but you notice how her fist balls tightly, "I told you, I got a type."
"Mm, sure do," Russo ogles you and shoves the bag against her chest, "you sure you don't want a few more guest for the party."
"Not you," she takes the bag but doesn't back down, "I'm not into weasels."
"What about your… friend?" He leers over at you.
"Billy," Castle hits his arm, "we got shit to do."
"I'm tryna get us something better to do," Russo growls.
"Ladies, have a good night," Castle tugs Russo back off the curb, "shug," he nods at you and as he dips the brim of his hat courteously, "be safe."
Foxy stands unmoving as the officers get back in the car, Russo watching her venomously as he slams his door. You sidle closer as a puff of exhaust clouds behind the cruiser. She turns to you and hands back the bag.
"Stay away from those two pigs," she says.
"Foxy? Is that your name?" You ignore her warning.
"Yeah," she stares after the car as it rolls down the road.
You give her your name as you wait for her to tear her gaze from the car. You weigh your wares, you have a few cans and got a party sized pack of chips. You could split the chocolate bar.
"Are we really friends?" You cringe at how dumb you sound. 
She blinks and finally turns to you, "huh?"
"You said I was your friend."
"Well, uh, sure, I guess…" she considers you and pokes her cheek with her tongue, "yeah, we can be friends."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I can always use more," she says breezily.
"Um, did you wanna… hang out? I got snacks."
She smiles, a small curve of her lips. Her throat tightens and she nods.
"Sure, I don't feel like being alone right now. You okay coming back to my place or… you live around here?"
"That way," you point back the way you came, "but uh, my dorm mates can be a bit… rowdy."
"Mine too but so can I," she says, "let's go to mine, that's fine."
She gestures you down the street and falls into a slow gait beside you. She puts her hands into her pockets and her teeth chatter, a fog escaping her lips. You walk in silence as your soles grinds across the salted sidewalk.
"Thanks," she mutters and clears her throat, "I know you meant well and I know I can be a bitch. So thank you for… not leaving me on the ground."
You want to ask her what happened. You want to ask if she's okay. You want to know more about her. Your first friend. You want to be able to undo whatever happened to her.
"Thank you," you say as you peek over at her, "for letting me be your friend."
📖
Your friend Foxy is cool. And strong. And she has so many friends.
You sit in the corner of her bed among a spread of open notebooks and your laptop. She sits at the top as her friend, Tweed, sits cross-legged against the wall and incessantly checks her phone.
Another girl, Flora sits on the floor with Muse, a colourful girl you admire for her dreamy words. The last, Cookie, brought a container of squares for the study session, though she doesn’t have any herself. There’s an odd sort of malaise over the group, though you’re elated for the company.
“Six is a lucky number,” Muse says as she looks up for her sketchbook, her sweater stained with charcoal.
“Is it?” Flora scoffs.
“Seven is overrated.”
“Right,” Flora crooks her lips and goes back to reading a thick volume. Her phone lights up, drawing a brief peek but she ignores it. They must all be so popular. So why then are you there?
“She’s a cynic, don’t listen to her,” Muse warns, “dry like all those boring books she reads.”
“Whatever,” Flora falls back and fan flops her legs over Muse’s lap, “you make a better cushion than a radio.”
Tweed holds her phone tight in her hands, ripping your attention from the playful row. She looks startled as Foxy watches her, her lip twitching. She leans over to whisper, “tell him to fuck off. His buddy too.”
You try to act like you don’t hear but Foxy catches your eye. She doesn’t call you out, instead sitting up and swiping Tweed’s phone.
“Fucking assholes,” she snarls, “Cookie, can I have another one of those magical chocolatey things?”
“Fox,” Tweed whispers, “he’ll be mad.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” she tucks the phone under her, “you’re with us right now. He can wait to— Oh, thanks, Cookie,” she stops herself and accepts a crumbly square. You can’t help but think it has something to do with the night you met but you don’t want to pry. You’re still the new one. Disposable.
“Can I try one?” You ask, finally plucking up the courage.
“Sure,” Cookie leans over to offer the container. She’s quiet like Tweed but she smiles at Muse when she talks. Their roommates, you think Foxy said so but you were too overwhelmed to listen.
“Fuckers,” Flora grumbles as she tosses her phone away, “men. All of them.”
You round your eyes. You wouldn’t know. You must be obvious as she glances at you and huffs.
“Consider yourself lucky if you haven’t found that out yet.”
There’s a hum of commiseration but nothing much said as the girls focus on their respective books, papers, and screens. You think about Officer Russo and his dark eyes, mysterious like and animal. But the other one, Castle, he seems nice. They just have bad luck. It’s the same tedious complaints you hear on those TV shows. All men are dogs.
“Yeah, I don’t… talk to many boys. Men.” You rub your neck, “to be honest, y’all are the first people around here not to tell me to go away.”
“Well everyone else are a bunch of assholes,” Foxy snorts.
“You said it,” Flora agrees.
“I think you’re nice,” Tweed offers.
“Thanks, you too,” you smile, “all of you.”
“Buncha weirdos you mean,” Flora chuckles, “yeah, we sure are.”
📖
“You don’t have to walk me home,” you tell Foxy, “really.”
“It’s not safe alone,” she insists as she wraps a scarf around her neck, the bluster of the winter blowing through the doors as she pushes through ahead of you, “we both know that.”
“But what about you?”
“I can handle myself,” she reaches in her pocket and edges out a shape, a canister. “one spray in the face and I’ll fuck the jerk up.”
“Oh, smart.”
“You should get some too. Buncha creeps hanging around here, you know?”
“Probably,” you agree quietly.
“No one thinks it’s gonna be them until it is. I really thought I could help Tweed–” she stops herself, shaking her head, “whatever, I couldn’t even help myself.”
You swallow, silent as your footsteps echo in the grim darkness of a moonless night.
“Did you… see anyone? A doctor?”
“I got tested,” she answers, “apparently, the guy was clean enough.”
Her acknowledgement makes your stomach sink. You knew what happened but her as good as saying it makes it so much more real. You don’t know how she’s still going.
“How–”
“Don’t ask me how,” she sighs, “I don’t know. You just keep on. Think about how you would bash his head in if you could, not about what he did.”
“I’m sorry it happened to you–”
“Don’t be. I put my nose where it didn’t belong, foot in my mouth. I got a habit of that.”
Outspoken, yes. Brave, bold, blunt. Everything you’re not. The same things you love about Foxy, she seems to hate herself for.
“You can’t blame yourself.”
“I do though.”
“I…” you almost apologise again but bite your tongue.
“Look, let’s talk about something else,” she peers around, “please.”
“Yeah, of course,” you rub your cold hands together as they tingle, “I got another test tomorrow. See if I can break my record of a fifty-four.”
“Already outdoing me,” she scoffs, “it’s a fucking joke. Picking A, B, or C isn’t gonna do shit all. What kinda experience is that?”
“Uh, I don’t know. I guess you’re right. It’s stupid–”
She stops short and you nearly tip over before she puts her arm out to save you. You follow her gaze across the street. A police cruiser, two men stood before it in the glare of blue and red. She grabs your wrist and pulls you sideways off the curb.
“Come on, I know a short cut,” she says.
“Wait–”
She hushes you as she pulls you across the road, only to step back abruptly and nearly knock you over. She gasp and grunts as he put your behind her.
“Jesus Christ,” she murmurs.
“Nice to see you again,” the deep voice rumbles and a flash comes behind you, a yellow circle of light encasing you.
“Fuck off,” Foxy squeezes your arm.
“Don’t worry, I see you got a witness with you this time,” the man says as you try to look around Foxy. 
“Something goin’ on?” A voice calls over as you turn to face the officers and their gleaming flashlight.
“Nothing, officers, just walking my friend home,” Foxy keeps her hand on you.
“You know, I didn’t peg you for such a good girl, Fox,” Russo says as he comes up next to Castle.
"Shut up. Would you do your job and get this guy to leave us alone?'
“Sup, Buck,” Russo ignores her as he greets the other man, “all done for the day?”
“Just about,” the stranger behind you answers, “you know how shit goes with girls. Say one thing wrong and they never let you live it down.”
“Lover’s quarrel,” Castle intones, “see a lot of those–”
“Whatever,” Foxy tugs on you but Castle catches your other arm, holding you in place.
“Not so fast, we’re still talking to you.”
“Sir,” you gulp as hesqueezes you tightly, “can you let me go?”
“Yeah, get your hands off her jackass.”
“Watch your mouth,” Russo steps up.
“You want me to shut her up,” the man, Buck or whatever, offers, “I got a trick or two for this one.”
“Oh ho, you like the fiesty ones, Barnes.”
“I got a way with ‘em.”
“What’s going on?” You tug on both your arms, “Foxy?”
“Let us go, you dummies,” she barks.
“Now, now, hold on, we can’t just let you two go off in the dark alone–”
“Oh shut up–”
“Watch your mouth!” Russo grabs Foxy by her chin and she clings to you tighter, “you’re about to find yourself in hot water.”
“Billy,” the third man says darkly, “let me take care of her… you and Frankie can have her friend.”
There’s a pause. You don’t understand it. What are they talking about?
“I just want to go home,” you whimper.
“We’ll take you home, shug, won’t we, Bill?” Castle says, “come on with us.”
“Foxy,” you squeal as he tries to pull you away from her.
“Fuck off!” She digs in her pocket and pulls out the canister, “fucking ratface–”
There’s a loud hiss and she screams as her arm is twisted around and she lets you go. You drops the mace and covers her eyes, shrieking in agony. You tug against Officer Castle as you try to latch on Foxy. The air stings in your eyes.
“Come here. baby,” The other man rips her out of your grasp, “why would you do something so stupid, huh? Let’s go wash those eyes out.”
“Get off–” She swings blindly and he pulls her off balance so she stumbles before scooping her up on his shoulder.
“Officers, if you hear any more trouble, I trust you’ll look the other way,” the man salutes as he strides away with Foxy beating on his back.
“Foxy!” You squeal and flail against the vice of Castle’s grip, “please, don’t let him take her–”
“You can’t get mixed up in these sorta things, mousey,” Russo grabs your reaching arm, “girls like her will only get you in trouble.” You’re hauled back to face them, “think she already has.” 
"Please," you whine, "I didn't– she didn't do anything."
"Shug, it's alright. We're the good guys. We're not gonna hurt you," Castle coaxes, "why don't you come get warmed up in the cruiser. We'll drive ya back to your place."
"I don't want to," you gulp and hear Foxy's voice fizzle, "Foxyyyy."
"God's sake, Frank, get her in the car," Russo snarls.
"She's scared, give her a moment–"
You throw your foot out and your toe bounces off Castle's shin as you spin and Russo swears. You get two steps before you're caught by your hood and wrenched back. You thrash and squirm as you stumble back, your coat slackening as a pair of arms wrap around your middle.
"Shug, I was being nice," Castle's deep timbre gristles.
"Why are you doing this?"
"It's not that bad, sweetie," Russo says as he drags you back. You writhe, boots scraping loudly on the salty ground, "just close your eyes and breathe."
"No, no, please–"
"We're just gonna take ya home," Castle says.
"Nnnnnnooo," you try to kick him again as he grabs your legs, lifting you off the ground. You wriggle between the men and whimper, "please. Help her! Help–"
A glove covers your mouth and muffles your voice. Your eyes sting as they carry you across the road and stop beside the cruiser, struggling to open the door as you squirm in their grasp. They twist you between them and angle you around, stuffing you into the back of the car. 
You cry out as you're flung roughly over the seat and the door slams behind you. You roll onto your knees and grab the handle, pulling fruitlessly as you push desperately. The officers get in the front and you throw yourself against the barrier.
"I didn't do anything–"
"You assaulted an officer," Castle growls, "my partner witnessed it himself."
"But I… didn't mean to. I'm scared–"
"Sweetie, you got nothing to be scared of yet."
Yet. Your vision goes fuzzy behind a sheen of tears.
"I'm sorry. But my friend–"
"Friend? Sluts like that don't have friends. They just do whatever gets them what they want."
"She's nice," you sniffle as you hook your fingers through the grating. You peek out the window as a streetlight reflects off the glass of the engineering building, "aren't you taking me home?"
Russo laughs and Castle elbows the barrier so you fall back with a yelp.
"Missed your chance there, shug," he sneers as his shoulders square against the seat and he looks at you in the rearview, "she's a cute one, ain't she, Bill?"
"She'll do," Russo agrees, "virgin, I'll put money on it."
Your heart stills, clenching painfully as you press yourself against the leather. They can't mean what you think. They're police. They can't do this.
"No, no, you're…"
"You're a bad girl," Russo snickers, "and it's our job to punish bad girls."
"Please," you quiver and fold your arms around yourself, "please, I… I'm not bad."
"No?" Castle says, "if you're a good girl, you'll have to prove it. Good girls listen."
Your eyes burn and spill over. You shake as you try to blot away the mess, barely able to breathe past the lump in your throat. Your heart drums loudly as your skin buzzes. This can't be real.
You remember what the girls said. They can't be right. They can't.
"Okay," you eke out, "what do I do?"
The men laugh but don't answer. The turn down the boulevard towards the gates and you slide over to the window. You peer out at the dark shapes hidden in the dreary night.
They drive and drive. You watch helpless from the cab, the inevitable, the inescapable growing closer and closer. They turn off into an empty lot, cracked tarmac framed with heaps of plowed snow, enclosed from the view of passing traffic. Your insides crawl as the engine rolls over and quiets.
"It's not too late," you croak as you hit the grate with your palms, "you can take me home. You don't have to do this–"
Russo unbuckles the seatbelt and reaches for his door, your pleas unheard. Castle catches his arm before he can get out.
"Where're you goin'?"
A scoff is the only answer he gets.
"I found her."
"So what?"
"You don't just get to call first go."
"Dibs," Russo tries to shake him off.
"Flip a coin," Castle grabs him by the collar.
"Ha," Russo leans and reaches in his jacket pocket, "that Maria is sure one lucky woman, hey? You're such a romantic, Frankie boy."
"Shut up."
Russo takes out a nickel and shows it to the other man. Frank snatches it and you collapse back against the seat. This isn't real. You pull your knees up and crawl across the leather, yanking on the handle as you hammer with your other fist.
"Call it," Castle demands.
"Tails."
He flicks the coin, the subtle metallic ting off his fingernail as it glimmers in the dark. He slaps his hand down as you drag a palm down the window. There's a low snort and a groan from the front.
"Heads," Castle proclaims, "and a whole five cents to boot."
Russo clucks and bends his arm against the door. Castle's belt recoils as he opens his side and steps out as the snow and gravel mulches under his boots. You back away and go to the other end of the seat, again pulling desperately at the plastic handle.
"You should be happy," Russo taunts as the door opens at your feet, "he's the nice one."
Large hands wrap around your ankles and pull you back. You whine and claw at the seat, fingers squeaking on the leather. Castle climbs between your legs, forcing a knee between them as his hands travel up to your thighs. You wiggle and slap behind you as you try to get him away.
“Come on, sugar, I don’t wanna hurt ya, calm down,” he grabs your shoulders and pushes your chest to the seat as he leans his weight on you. “Take a breath.”
“Please. Pl-please. Pleeaassssse,” you babble, “please, I don’t—”
“Ah, louder, baby,” Russo chimes, “god, I love it when they beg. ‘Oh, Frankie, please fuck me. I want your thick cock in my tight cunt.’”
You bat your lashes as tears stream out and you hiccup through the sobs. Your fingers curl into the seams of the seat as you’re pinned by the heavy man above you. He keeps a hand on your shoulder as his other walks down the back of your parka, pushing the bottom up slowly.
You heave and turn your face down as Russo’s shadow looms through the barrier. He’s watching, you know it. You reach up, dragging the tips of your nails down the door weakly. It’s over. You’re stuck, there’s no getting out of this. No one to save you, no one to stop them. They are the ones who are supposed to do that.
“That’s it,” Castle breathes, “just relax, sugar, just relax,” he spreads his hands over the back of your jeans, kneading you through the denim, “mmm, you like that?”
You shudder and let out a quaking sob. You clutch your hands tight and pull them down, burying your head beneath your arms. He follows the waist of your jeans around front as he leans over you, fumbling with the button as you shake in horror. He flicks it open and dips his hand down your pants, the zipper splitting as his intrusion.
He pokes his fingers along your cunt and rubs you through your cotton panties. His breath puffs beside your head, tickling your ear as hooks his arm around your neck. You swallow and suck in air, holding it in until you can’t. He continues to play with you through the fabric, the friction hot and painful.
“Sugar, it’s okay, I’ll treat ya nice,” he rasps, “remember how nice I am. Gave ya my coat.”
You choke on your terror and he hushes you. Your arms drape limps over the seat as his weight robs you of your strength. He lifts you slightly with the arm at your throat and slides his hand out of your pants. He flips you over suddenly, dropping you harshly on the seat as you shield yourself.
He pulls down the tab of your zipper, undoing your park as you lay rigid. He pushes apart the downy coat and cups your chest through your hoodie. He groans as he gropes you, bouncing your tits in your bra as the strap slips on your shoulder.
“You’re such a pretty girl,” he drawls, “so pretty.” 
His hands trail down your stomach and his rough fingertips tickle above your jeans. He lifts your legs and leans them against his torso as he kneels on the seat. He yanks the denim down your ass and guides it past your thighs. You whimper and twitch as he bears your skin to the cold air drifting in around him. He tugs down your panties in quick succession, rolling them down to tangle against your jeans.
He curls his arm around your legs, holding them snug against him as he feels down his crotch. He shifts and growls as he struggles to undo his belt. The jangle of the metal and leather freezes your blood. You turn your face away and gulp as you squeeze shut your eyes.
He touches you again, rubbing your cunt gruffly. You cry out and sink your nails into the leather. 
“I bet I’m right, Frank,” Russo sneers, “hey, sweetie, you ever been fucked before? I’m not gonna ask if you had a real man before cause we know the answer to that.”
“Bill,” Castle growls.
“Tell me, baby, is Frankie gonna stretch that tight hole for the first time?”
“Stop,” you croak, “stop. I can’t–”
“Dammit, Bill,” Castle shoves a finger against your entrance and you yelp.
“What? Don’t act like a saint, cause we both know you’re not. Come on, Frank, I want you to punish her. You always were good at that.”
You push your head back as Castle forces his finger into you, the thick digit burning you from the inside. He pulls in and out, in and out, until you're squirming and mewling, desperate for him to stop. He adds as second and you squeal. A third and you holler, stretched past your limit.
“Fuck, she is tight,” Castle whispers as he rocks his hand, “Bill, why don’t you have some fun with her mouth.”
“You gonna share already?” Russo hits the barrier in excitement, “hot damn, how can I turn that down?”
You flinch as the driver’s door swing open and snaps shut. The door above your head is pulled back and another set of knees settle on the seat. Frank lifts your ass off the leather as he drags his fingers out of you. He feels around and suddenly a warm, bulbous shapes is against your folds, flicking between them, from clit to entrance, and back again.
“Now, sweetie, I know how you girls think,” Russo tisks, and reaches to his belt, “so let’s keep those teeth to ourselves.”
He reveals a blank shape and a zap cracks from its metal teeth. You murmur and he chuckles as he opens his fly. You shut your eyes again but can’t block out the world closing in on you. The seat dips by your head and firm flesh touches your lips.
“Open up, sweetie,” he urges.
You seal your lips and large hand frames your chin. Castle squeezes until you gasp, “sugar, you be a good girl and listen.”
You open your mouth and it's filled at once. The prodding at the back of your throat has you arching your back and gagging. Castle retracts his hand as Russo wraps his long fingers around your neck and tilts his hips, urging deeper and deeper.
Castle continues his steady poking along your cunt, pressing to your entrance as he lets out a sandy snarl. Your walls clench as he enters you, just his tip as you fight his invasion. He presses his wide thumb to your clit and rolls it.
“Come on, sugar, get wet for me. It’ll be–” he jerks his hips, managing another inch, “easier.”
You choke as Russo shoves himself down your throat. Your hand flies up and bounces off his coat sleeve as he hovers the taser above you again and hits the button. The loud crackle startles you back to complacency.
Russo rocks slowly, fucking your mouth as he grips your neck tighter with each thrust. Castle dips into your cunt, gritting out a breath as his thumb swirls around your tender bud. He finally gets to his limit, a fullness swelling agonizingly in your pelvis. He hisses and slowly eases out to his tip.
“Come on, Frank, I’m gonna finish in her mouth by the time you get going,” Russo snickers.
“You’ll get your turn,” Castle huffs and bucks his hips. You gurgle around Russo and contort between them, “fuck, she’s worth the wait. Good thing I’ll get her nice and loose for you.”
“Mouth isn’t too bad,” Russo strokes your throat with his thumb as he feels his bulge inside, “fuck, I really had my doubts about this one but I’ll say it, I was wrong.”
“Fuck, she’s good,” Frank plays with your clit as you tremble and moan, ashamed at the brewing heat in your core, “aw, baby, don’t cry, ain’t that good? I feel ya gettin’ wet. Yeah, that’s good.”
You sniffle and gulp, Frank’s other hand delving beneath your hoodie and slipping up to your chest once more. He kneads you as he speeds up, your bones thrum and your muscles wind tight. The horror erupts and overflows as you succumb to it, senseless and battered between them.
Foxy tried to warn you. The others too. You should’ve listened. 
213 notes · View notes
chasingmidnights · 2 years
Text
Where Do You Think You're Going?
Title: Where Do You Think You’re Going? 
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Summary: Somehow, you’re not really sure how honestly but you managed to get out of the restraints that you were in. Everything is still a bit hazy actually but you can worry about that later. Right now all you could focus on was getting out of his house. What was his name again? Was it Frank? Or Shane?  
Author’s Note: This is kind of a Part 2 to my first story, Let’s Hang Out Sometime. This story is also a bit longer than the first story. 
Warnings: slight torture; angst; blood; character death/murder; being manhandled; a kick to the groin; cussing; stabbing; dark!frank; dark!shane; and if I missed anything, I apologize but you are responsible for what you read, I just post here. 
Word Count: 1,094
Needless to say, you were panicking, actually that would be an understatement if you were being honest. Mere seconds away from a true panic attack. As quietly as you could, you crept through the house, trying to control your breathing the best that you could. You don’t remember it being this big. Oh yeah, that’s right, you were knocked unconscious almost as soon as you got here. That’s why you don’t remember. You could feel your heart racing as you wandered the halls of his house. It felt like you were in the Winchester Mystery House. 
You needed to hurry though, you had no idea when this guy would return. Hell, for all you knew he could still be in the house somewhere.You turned down another hallway and shit, a dead end. You let out a quiet, disappointed sigh at the sight in front of you. It’s like he purposely designed this house to be a maze. A window catches your attention and for some reason you’re drawn over to it. When you look out the window, your eyes widen in shock. You were now on a second story which you find to be troubling because you don’t remember going up any stairs. Although to be honest, everything is a little fuzzy and right now you’re pretty sure that you’re running on pure adrenaline. 
You turn around to go the way you came and a gasp escapes your lips. The man you’ve been trying to escape from is right behind you. A shiver crawls up your spine as your eyes land on the evil smirk playing on his lips. He’s leaning against the wall with head tilted and he’s expertly twirling some kind of knife in between his hands. You can feel the cold air seeping through the window causing goosebumps to rise up all over your body. The cold air doesn’t help the already rising heaviness in the air as the two of you stare at each other. It seems as though the two of you were in a sort of standoff. Then, a horrible clicking sound fills your ears and you realize it’s coming from him. 
“Now,” He begins, his voice deep and rough. “Where do you think you’re going, hmmm?” His drawl lingers in the air. 
You need to do something, come on, think. But you’re frozen in your spot. You hear him scoff and watch as his smirk twitches even more upward. As you continue to keep frozen, you see him wipe quickly at his nose with his right thumb before he speaks up again. 
“You weren’t trying to escape now were you sweetheart?” 
You shudder at the nickname that he’s bestowed upon you. Why aren’t you doing anything? He’s going to harm you or worse kill you! Do something you idiot! It’s as if all of the adrenaline from earlier has dissipated from your body. Fear has completely taken over your body now. You know you should do something but for some reason you can’t. It’s like he’s hypnotized you to stay put in your place. Your brain is screaming at you to move. MOVE you fucking idiot, move! 
Then, it’s like a switch flipped in your brain and you lunge at the man in front of you. You try to think of his name again but honestly you don’t fucking care any more. You lunge at him, throwing him off guard. He definitely wasn’t expecting that to happen but he quickly regained his composure. He threw you into the wall, your back hitting it first causing a grunt to slip from your lips. He presses his forearm roughly against your chest, you can feel his hot breath fan in your face. You cringe at the feeling and try to turn your face away the best you can. He however, has different plans and forcefully grabs you by your jaw and makes you look at him. Your eyes widen in fear as he brings his knife towards your face. Your breathing becomes heavier and then you feel it, the cold metal of the blade against your cheek. The tip dancing around your cheek but not enough pressure to break the skin. Not yet anyway, he’s only teasing you at the moment. You can tell by the Chesire cat smile that’s formed on his lips, sending a shiver down your spine. 
You try to move against him but he pushes you back, tutting you as he did so. “Ah, ah, ah sweetheart, I don’t think so.” 
You then feel the blade slowly, slice open your cheek, blood instantly begins to trickle down your cheek. A few grunts and whimpers escape your mouth during the process of being cut open. And there’s something else running down your cheek now too. A droplet lands on your lower lip and there’s a salty flavor that is left behind. When did you start crying? You can’t really think about that now, you need to get out of this guy’s hold on you. You do the one thing you know will hurt him. You lift your knee up and thrust it into his manhood. He groans at the action and it causes him to double over in pain. You push him back and he falls over to the floor, still groaning. You take this opportunity to bolt and you push yourself harder than you ever had before. 
Adrenaline returns to your body, you can feel it pumping through your body and your breathing becomes labored. You round a corner and finally, you see the stairs that lead down to the first level. Finally! You’re almost there you know it. You rush down the stairs and search for the front door, well any door that may lead you to an exit. To freedom. Once you find one, a smile slowly creeps across your face, maybe you actually have a chance. Just maybe, a small hope ignites inside of you. You rush towards the door and fling it open, taking a moment to breathe in the cold, fresh air. Then you feel it, the twist of a blade piercing through your back. A gasp falls out of you as you feel the blade twisting inside of you and moving upward. You feel the blade slip through your skin, making a squelching noise as it is being removed from your body. Your body twists and you’re able to see his face one more time. You swear he looks proud at what he’s just done. However, the last thing you feel is failure. 
Because you failed to escape.
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