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becauseicantthinkwritings · 2 years

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Ineptitude

A Billy Russo x Reader fic

A/N: You're just not ready for it. Tagging some moots I think will like it: @marvelmusing @this-is-serenaa @outlawadvocate @idaofinfinity @fivequartersoftheorange @stardust-danvers *evil laughter*

This is probably the filthiest thing I've ever written, thank you Jess for inspiring it, and so many others for helping me along and giving me ideas. Love you all.

This is technically a follow up to His Best Kept Secret and Duplicate.

Warnings: Smut (18+), degradation (he calls her so many names), dumbification, daddy kink, face slapping, choking, spitting, oral/facefucking (m), spanking, p in v sex, he sort of force feeds her some wine, but she can stop him at any time she wants.

"Daddy please!" You beg quietly, almost in tears as he tugs you out of the store. Though he's pulling you along, you try to move in time with him so that it doesn't look like he's dragging you.

"I said no, princess, and even you should understand that no means no."

"But they're so pretty!" You say, skipping to keep up with him, trying to convince him of your need for the iridescent butterfly heels.

He chuckles.

"Yeah, they're gorgeous, and you'd look so good in them too, but you've already spent way too much this month." He chastises, referring to the duplicate purse you'd accidentally bought a week ago. Your ass was still stinging from the punishment of ten spanks for each thousand that the purse had cost. He'd at least been kind enough to distribute the punishment over the week, giving you five a night for the last seven days.

You whine in frustration.

"Please, please, please, please." You sing, hoping to convince your boyfriend to buy you the things that you want.

Billy pauses, looking down at you, deep in thought. You try to give him the sweetest look you can muster in your excitement. His face relaxes after a moment, and he leans down to kiss your forehead. You think you've got him, ready to go back to the store and walk out with the pretty heels that were calling your name. He follows up with a kiss to your cheek, his hands cupping your face and you feel so giddy with excitement.

"If you don't get in the car right now, I'm going to make you sit through dinner tonight with a plug in your ass."

Your mouth drops open in shock. He wasn't going to buy them for you?

He chuckles.

"And then maybe I'll add twenty more spanks on top of that to really let the lesson sink in."

That has you moving without a word, accepting that the heels weren't coming home with you today.

You were crazy about him, liked the way he smiled at you when you were good, and loved the way he chuckled when you were bad. He loved pulling you apart at the seams just as much as you loved being pulled. His hand on your thigh as he drives, gripping the back of your neck at traffic lights to seal his mouth to yours for just a few moments, smearing your lip gloss around your mouth. He acts as if he can't breathe without your mouth on his, in those few moments, and when he pulls away, it's always with a smile of approval.

"How 'bout we get some ice cream on the way home, hmm?" He offers and you smile.

"Okay." You say, and he leans forward again to kiss you when the car behind you presses on the horn.

You laugh at his annoyed look, pulling away from you to drive.

You're a real brat tonight, as God intended when he made you.

It starts off with asking him to pick your outfit, and then deciding to wear something else instead, ignoring the way his eye twitches in annoyance when he sees you in a much shorter dress than he'd agreed too.

You shake with the cold as you step out of the car, and he looks a little annoyed again when he has to shed his jacket to drape over your shoulders.

"I told you to bring a jacket, didn't I?"

"I forgot." You say in a small voice and his lips quirk. You know he'd have something to say about you being a dumb little girl if the valet was out of earshot.

Nevertheless, his arm wraps around your body, guiding you towards the entrance.

"Reservation under Russo." He says in greeting, and a bell goes off in the back of your head. You'd forgotten to make the reservation.

"I'm sorry, I can't seem to find you." The man at the front desk says apologetically.

"Billy..." you call out to him, feeling absolutely terrible.

He takes one look at you, and sighs in disappointment.

"Oh, baby, did you forget to make a reservation?"

You pout, nodding up at him.

"Shh, don't fret." He says, petting the top of your head, looking up at the man next, "Is there anything you can do?"

The man glances at you, meeting your eyes for a quick second.

"Excuse me for a moment while I talk to my manager." He says, and Billy nods at him in assent.

" 'M sorry Billy, didn't mean to forget. Maybe I can... flirt with him or something?" You suggest, looking up at him innocently to feel the delight burn through you as anger touches his features for a quick moment.

He breathes a long sigh, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, but you know it's just an excuse to whisper in your ear, his hand cupping the back of your neck firmly.

"You want someone else to believe that they'd ever have a chance with my favourite cunt?" He hisses in your ear, "I'd quicker fuck you right here in front of all these people than watch you flirt with someone else, you dumb little girl."

Your breath hitches in your throat, already way too turned on to survive dinner. His hand is tight on your skin when the man returns.

"Great news, Mr. Russo, we have a space available, follow me, please."

Billy's hand stays firm on your back, as you both follow along. You hum in displeasure when you see the table.

"Um, can we have a booth instead? I want to sit next to him, not opposite."

The man's eyes linger on you, before he glances at Billy.

"Sure thing," he says suddenly, "right this way."

You're not sure what the man has to do to get you the seat you requested, but you're very grateful, smiling at him in thanks when you slip Billy's jacket from your shoulders to slide into the booth, stumbling a little, bending over to catch yourself when your heel hooks on the foot of the table. You settle in, and you notice the man's eyes are now fixed on the ground and Billy's are fixed on you.

"A waiter will be around to tend to you soon," the man says in a rush before he's gone.

You smile at Billy watching him sit beside you, he gets in close, wrapping an arm around your waist and sliding it gently down to grip at the flesh of your thigh.

You gasp when he squeezes just a little too harshly, and you look up at him with wide eyes for an explanation.

"You know, I think I might have to take the day off tomorrow." He says.

Your eyebrows furrow, not understanding his meaning.

"Wh-why?" You murmur, wiggling a little to ease his rough grip, that only gets tighter when you try to get out of it.

"You're going to need a lot of care tomorrow." He says simply.

"What? Why?"

A kiss to your cheek, and you turn your head instinctively so that he can whisper in your ear.

"Because," he murmurs slowly, the heat of his breath on your skin makes your nipples tighten in your bra, "I'm going to punish you so thoroughly tonight that I doubt you'll be able to stand tomorrow."

You sputter.

"What? But- I didn't even do anything wrong!" You protest.

He makes a noise of sympathy.

"Oh, my dumb little princess." He coos, pinching your chin between his fingers, "You haven't done a thing right today at all."

"Hello! My name is Martha and I'll be you're waitress this evening. Have you had a chance to look at the menu?"

But Billy is a man who already knows what he wants, and he does so with an ease of familiarity that makes you wish you could pull his cock out and get on your knees right here-

You blink when he says your name in question. Both him and the waitress look at you expectantly and you freeze.

"Can you, um, is it okay if you pick something for me? I can't decide."

You know what he'd say if there was no one listening, but instead of telling you what a dumb girl you are for needing daddy to order, he simply smiles, and tells Martha what you'd like.

"Would you like red or white wine?" He asks, and though you usually prefer white wine, this time, you ask for red.

•

"Wow." You say in admiration, leaning into Billy as you watch a woman walk past, "I really love her shoes."

Billy hums, eyes following where you're looking.

"Those are the Aveline one hundred," you murmur in appreciation, "so cute."

"They're just shoes." He says, and you know he's only teasing you, but you smile, ready to tease back.

"Yeah," you say with a challenge in your voice, "and your Wraith is just a car."

A smile breaks out on his face.

"Oh, how dare you," he groans, turning to pull your body as close to his as possible, his hands tight on your behind.

"My Wraith is an experience, a way of life."

You giggle, hands roaming up his chest and around his shoulders, "And so are those shoes." You argue.

Laughing together, his forehead pressed to yours and his body all around you.

"I bet those shoes would look pretty on my shoulders while I railed you." He says, trying to get under your skin.

"Only one way to find out," you taunt back.

•

Dinner is delicious, he orders you lobster pasta while he eats an amazing platter of lamb chops and risotto. He feeds you bites of his food intermittently and you do the same.

The wine is a bit too dry for your tastes, but you try to appreciate it a bit more, because it's going to come in handy later.

You have to time it right, or else it won't work. You excuse yourself to use the restroom, accidentally dropping your napkin and bending over to reach for the small square of cloth before placing it onto the seat and giggling as you walk off confidently. You maybe get a little lost searching for the restroom, and you smile easily at the waitress that guides you.

You take a little longer, making sure everything is perfectly in place for him to tear it off you tonight, and you smile at yourself in the mirror.

"Sorry," you say with a giggle, returning to him, "got a tiny bit lost looking for the restroom."

He smirks.

"It's okay, princess, I understand."

And at the the very last moment, your heel catches the foot of the table once more, and you trip, accidentally knocking over your glass of red wine.

It's like art, the way the wine glides through the air, hits the light grey of his shirt and drips down the front.

There's a stunned moment of silence between you two, before you're murmuring apologies, reaching for a napkin to dab at his shirt.

"Oh, god Billy I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean to." You pause your dabbing to look up at him, freezing at the look he's giving you.

He's like a coiled predator, looking at you carefully with a calm expression on his face.

The corner of his lip twitches as he takes in your worried an apologetic expression.

He doesn't say a word, grabbing your wrist and pulling the napkin from your grip, discarding it somewhere before he's pulling at you.

You once again have to stumble to keep up, always trying to draw less attention to yourselves unless someone thinks you're unwilling in this little game you're playing with him.

"My car, please." He says to the valet, who's already scrambling when he notices Billy approaching.

Billy's hand remains tight on your wrist, you lean into him a little when the cold of the night cuts into you, remembering that you left his jacket behind and you'll have to shyly remind him tomorrow.

"I'm sorry, Billy, I didn't mean to."

"I know, princess, I know you're just too dumb to be careful."

You ignore the look the valet throws your way when he overhears, uncaring about what other people might think when you're about to get exactly what you want.

•

He doesn't look at you as the car pulls up, but his hand remains tight on your wrist. He takes the keys from the valet and guides you into the passenger seat before shutting the car door for you. He doesn't say a word the entire way home.

•

He pulls you into his apartment, and when the door slams shut, he finally releases your wrist.

"Knees." He says quickly, and your mouth opens to speak.

"I didn't mean to, Billy. Please..."

He laughs, and the sound send shivers of fear and arousal down your spine.

"Mean to?" He asks, approaching you slowly, but you step back with each step he takes forward.

"Are you saying that riling me up wasn't your plan? Dressing up in that little dress, forgetting to bring a jacket when I told you to? Almost flashing that man when you were sitting down?"

You're shaking your head with each accusation he throws your way.

"I didn't- I didn't-"

"Oh? You didn't?" He mocks, "So you're you're so much of a ditz that you didn't know you put your ass right in my face earlier when you dropped your napkin? That ruining daddy's expensive shirt was an accident?"

"I'm-"

You're cut off when he grabs the back of your head, pulling your body to his, stopping your movements.

"Get. On your knees. Before I put you there." He says evenly, and you whimper, kneeling slowly onto the hardwood floor near his kitchen.

"Finally," he sighs, pulling away, "at least a dumb little girl like you understands orders." He steps behind you, and you can't see what he's doing. You hear moving around, but you know better than to look, you know your punishment is going to be harsh enough without the added penance of looking at him.

You jump when you hear a pop, the sound of a wine bottle being uncorked.

"I bet you're still thirsty, princess, after spilling all your wine. You never even got a good sip of it hmm?"

You can only look up at him when he circles back into your vision, a bottle of red in his hand.

You gulp.

"Here baby, why don't you have some more?"

You can't protest, because he's pressing the mouth of the bottle against your lips in the next second. You're forced to swallow or get your dress dirty, and you try your best, taking a few mouthfuls of the concoction before pushing the bottle away from your face.

"That's it? All full? But there's so much left."

You whine in distress.

"I guess if you can't drink it, you'll just have to wear it."

You gasp when the cool liquid touches the crown of your head, soaking your scalp and clumping your hair. It runs in rivulets down your chest and into your dress. A little runs too close to your eye and you tilt your head up to avoid it accidentally hurting you. He adjusts his hand, pointing it toward your chest and you look up at him, while he smirks in satisfaction, dousing you with the wine.

You shiver as it traces its way down your dress, soaking your skin and filling your nose with the scent of fermentation. Your nipples tingle as the liquid soaks into your bra and causes your dress to cling to your thighs.

He finally stops drenching you, tilting the bottle up, and you watch the wine form a little puddle on his floor that you know he could care less about.

He looks pleased when your eyes meet his.

"Oops." He murmurs evenly, "Guess my hand slipped."

You pout at him.

"That sweet pout," he murmurs, leaning forward to take your jaw in his hand, his thumb brushing over your lips, "makes me want to ruin you in every way possible. Open your mouth."

You only part your lips a little, watching him take a long sip from the bottle before leaning over you. His hand tightens on your jaw, opening your mouth more, and your eyes widen when he parts his lips to let the wine fall from his mouth into yours.

Your eyes flutter shut in bliss, fuck yes you wanted him to destroy you, pull you apart and make you his own little plaything.

"Don't swallow yet, baby, let's see if your dumb little brain can follow orders."

He leaves you then, walking away, while unbuttoning his shirt, you kneel in the puddle of wine, your mouth full of the same thing, trying to be as good as possible.

You wonder what your punishment's going to be. Is he going to spank your ass? No, too easy, maybe your pussy. You press your thighs together. Maybe he's going to fuck your face and come all over you and get you even messier than you are now. You shift a little, feeling your body ache for him.

You hear the sound of his footsteps as he approaches you, and your body tingles in excitement.

"Still holding onto my spit, princess?" He asks, a hand on your head.

You nod, parting your lips to show him the now warm liquid sloshing around in your mouth.

He hums.

"You can swallow now." He permits, and you don't hesitate to do as commanded.

You look up at him, noting that he's removed his shirt, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.

"Up." He says, and you scramble to your feet as best as possible. Your knees ache from where you've been kneeling, and your ankles hurt, uncomfortable in your heels.

He doesn't ask, grabbing your upper arm and pulling you with meaningful, measured steps into the living room. He doesn't stop until your face is pressed into the floor to ceiling window.

"Look at the pretty view you have because of me." He says, angrily pulling at the zipper of your dress, handling it so roughly that you hear several seams break as he pulls it from your body.

"I buy your clothes, and your shoes, and all those bags you love-" he tugs your bra off next, kneading your breasts in the palm of his hands, "- you only have to look pretty and be my good girl. Instead-" he pinches your nipples roughly and your head falls back against his chest, "- instead you act like a dumb little slut that can barely keep her head on straight."

You whine his name.

"Well if you want to be a dumb slut, I'll just have to treat you like one, yeah?"

You can't respond, to lost in his rough groping to respond.

Suddenly he slaps your cheek, and you moan, the sting is too gentle for your tastes but it gets your attention.

"This is an easy one, princess. Do you want me to treat you like the dumb slut I think you are?"

You nod quickly.

"Yes, sir, please." You beg, smiling when he spins you in his arms, looking down at your body, sticky and covered in drying wine.

"Look at you." He hums, "Ready to do whatever I ask. Eager to let me have any inch of you that I want."

You watch the power settle behind his eyes, a pleased look as he raises his hand to pat your cheek roughly.

"Harder." You beg, and he obliges, the pat moving into a gentle slap across your face.

"Daddy, please." You beg, and he pulls his hand back just a little bit more, a sharp sting on each cheek.

He's watching your face closely, looking for any sign that you're not enjoying it, slapping you across the face was only good for him if he could see and hear how much you enjoyed it.

"Thank you daddy." You say, opening your eyes to look at him, and he wants to break you senselessly right here, come deep inside of you and watch it drip out and have you beg for more.

More of him.

"Let me fuck your face." He says, an order, not a question and you're on your knees again in seconds, no further prompt necessary.

You wait, for his approval, hands fisted in your lap. You know that he'd only slap your hands away and call you an eager little slut if you tried to reach for him without his say.

"Go ahead." He permits, and it's all you need, reaching up to unbuckle his belt, unzipping his pants and getting your first real touch of his cock for the day. You pump him in your hand for a bit, working yourself up, before kissing the tip.

"Hands behind your back. Tongue out." He orders, a hand cupping the back of your head.

You obey, eager and ready for him to fuck your face.

He starts slow for your benefit, working his big cock slowly into your mouth and letting you grow accustomed to the feeling.

You can't help moaning around him as he fills your mouth, and you hear him chuckle above you.

"Does my dumb little girl like having her mouth filled?"

"Mhmm" you hum.

"Is that why you're so dumb? Because you like to suck more than you like to talk?"

"Mmm." You hum again.

He doesn't give you much of a warning before he starts thrusting into your mouth.

You hear him let out a low moan.

"Your dumb mouth feels like heaven, baby, fuck."

He withdraws his length from your mouth.

"Suck on my balls." He murmurs, and angles his hips so that his length rests on your face and his balls are nestled in your mouth. It makes you feel so good, to be an object for is pleasure, almost a basic receptacle for his torment. You want to be debased by him, and only him. You use your tongue, massaging him with your mouth as best as possible until he's groaning loudly.

You wish he would come on your face- you want to feel his warm sticky seed drip from your cheek and down your chest, and you want him to use you in any way he wants.

He pulls back, and you can't resist the little pout you make.

A laugh from him and you're being pulled up and lifted.

Your legs wrap around his hips, and you lean into him as he walks you to his room.

He puts you down, and you watch him sit on the bed.

"Over my lap." He says, and you do as he says, settling your mostly naked body over his, his hand resting on your ass easily.

"How many do you want?" He asks, and you try to conceal your shiver of delight at being asked.

"Twenty, please." You say to him and he chuckles.

"That's quite a lot, baby, sure you can handle it?"

"Now who's asking dumb questions?" You snip.

The first spank is hard, and you groan, feeling your body relax as the pain sinks into your skin.

He tugs your underwear down your thighs, kissing the round of your ass before giving you another.

He's unforgiving, unrelenting, and you find yourself leaning into each touch. He spanks your pussy intermittently, and you squeal when it happens, wriggling to raise your head but he simply presses his hand into your back to keep you bent over.

You kick your legs when it gets a little painful, but it really does nothing more than getting you spanked harder.

When it really starts to hurt, he takes a longer time between spanks, rubbing your bare ass to both soothe and remind you of the sting.

"Are you enjoying this?" He asks, and you moan when you feel two of his fingers ghosting over your puffy slit.

"Yes, Billy." You sigh, yelping when his broad hand smacks your thigh.

"Yes? But this is a punishment, you're not supposed to like it."

You mumble something incoherently and you're rewarded with another painful spank.

"I'm a dumb little girl, sir, and I think every touch you give me is a good touch." You say louder so that he can hear.

"Even when it hurts?" He asks.

"Yes," you moan, "Touch me and see for yourself."

You sigh, feeling his probing fingers slip between your legs, he hums in appreciation, swirling his fingers expertly over your clit.

"Oh, baby, look at how well that pussy's trying to get ready for me." He pushes two fingers into you and you relax on top of him, mewling when he decides to go so slow for your benefit.

He withdraws his fingers and gives you one final spank, before pulling you up.

"How many was that, princess?"

Your eyes widen.

"Um- I'm not- uhh."

He chuckles.

"You weren't counting? Don't you know you're supposed to be counting?"

"I- uhhh."

"Stop making those dumb little sounds." He says harshly and you pout.

He pushes you back on the bed, tugging your heels off your feet.

"Can you even count?" He asks, tossing your shoes haphazardly, reaching for your underwear next, "Or do you need daddy to do everything for you?"

" 'm sorry daddy. I can count I swear."

He hovers over you, grinning.

"Yeah? Why don't you count how many times I make you come?"

You swallow, nodding your head, and he doesn't hesitate to line himself up and push the head of his cock into you.

He groans above you.

"Fuck, your dumb little head is worth it for this cunt." He grunts, pushing a little more of himself in, rocking his hips to get to accustomed to his size before adding a little bit more.

You sob as he fills you, nails digging into his shoulders, he feels unbelievably amazing inside you and you struggle to find the words to tell him.

"Gonna make you come over and over, see if your brain can keep up." He grunts, before he's laying into you with slow, precise strokes.

You come almost immediately, and you hear another grunt before he laughs. He doesn't stop, moving at a measured pace, until your brain is mush and your body is pliant and shaking under him.

You're lost in his body, intoxicated by the pleasure he gives so easily, a melding of your forms as he reminds you why your body is only his.

His mouth descends on your collarbone, biting and sucking, leaving angry marks that you're grateful for.

When you've come a second time, he flips you onto your hands and knees, and pushes into you again.

He takes, and he takes and you're glad to give. He tugs your hair into his fist, keeping your back arched as his pace increases. The room is filled with the shared sounds of your pleasure and quiet adoration.

You lose track after orgasm number five, unable to keep your head on straight with Billy's cock so remarkably deep inside you.

"How many?" He finally asks, when you're on your back again, his body pressed in close, his breath on your lips.

You can only let out a pitiful sound.

He laughs.

"I knew you couldn't count." He teases.

And then his hand is around your throat, squeezing tightly, and you claw at his skin when his hips increase their pace.

"Don't come yet." He orders, turning his head to rub his cheek against your nose. You know he can feel you, clenching around him, near orgasm.

"You don't come unless I say, you don't think, unless I say." He looks down at you, hands tightening around your throat, "You don't breathe. Unless. I . Say."

Fuck yes, you think, eyes welling with tears as you try to hold your orgasm at bay.

A single tear rolls down your cheek and he grunts in pleasure, his grip on your neck eases.

"Come for me."

Your vision goes white, your body convulses violently as you orgasm. You squeeze his cock tightly inside you, until he moans loudly, spilling his come inside you, his cock pulsing along with your walls as you drain him dry.

You're both breathing heavily, and when you meet his eyes, you're rewarded with a smile and a little kiss.

The first kiss of the evening, followed by gentle ones in between breaths.

"You're perfect." He whispers into your mouth and you sigh in pleasure, "My perfect girl."

He stays inside you for as long as possible, but honestly you can't remember too much after that, your body succumbing to exhaustion pretty quickly.

You only come to a little when he's easing you into the warm bath, you watch his back, covered in scratches as he grabs your shampoos and everything necessary to get you clean.

You can barely focus on anything much but his body behind you in the bath, and his hands in your hair.

•

Later, he tucks you into bed, checking you over before pulling you into his chest, slow circles on your back.

"I have a surprise for you." He says gently, and you're caught up in the sound of his heartbeat, "But it can wait until tomorrow."

"Okay," you whisper, "G'night Billy."

A kiss to the top of your head.

"Night, princess."

•

You're sore the morning after, but you're glad to wake in his arms, he kisses the top of your head before he slips out of bed to make you coffee.

Everything aches as you stretch, from your throat to your thighs and your knees too.

You catch a peek of yourself in the bathroom mirror, and smile a little when you see the abundance of bruises and bites left behind.

Walking hurts a little, so you resettle on the bed after shrugging on an old shirt of his.

•

He comes back a little later, giving you a cup of coffee with just the right amounts of sugar and cream. You hum delightfully as you sip it.

"Come," he says when you finish your cup, "I have a surprise for you."

"Walking kind of hurts." You mumble, and he smiles proudly, reaching for you to pick you up.

Your arms around his neck, and your legs wrapped around his waist and he tells you to close your eyes.

You giggle when he kisses the tip of your nose, a gentle command to not peek.

"Okay, open."

He's taken you into his closet, holding out something for you to see, and you gasp in delight as you take the pretty heel from his hand.

"You got them for me? Oh, daddy, thank you, thank you thank you!"

"That's not the only thing." He says with a chuckle.

He turns, so that you can see what's behind you, and your mouth drops open in shock, the heel slips from your hand and falls to the ground with a muffled thud.

Against the far wall of his closet, where his shoes usually are, you're shocked to see that half of the wall has been replaced with heels. Not every spot is filled, but you're shocked to find the gorgeous butterfly heels in several different colours, along with the Jimmy Choos you'd pointed out last night.

"Billy." You say in shock, turning to look at him for some explanation as to why half of his closet is now empty.

"Move in with me." He says, your noses colliding gently.

You can only smile, giddy with excitement, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you lean forward to press his lips securely to yours.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #ben barnes #my writings #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo smut

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