This Fic Is So Amazing, And I'm So Excited To See An X Rosalie Story!! Love The Way You Write Her As
This fic is so amazing, and I'm so excited to see an x Rosalie story!! Love the way you write her as well, author! Take Care <3
Bound | Chapter 3
Word Count: 4.2K Warnings: implied/reference SA, torture, murder, bodily harm
Summary: Rosalie always carried the resentment of not being able to fulfill the image of the perfect family she had in her head. But the universe had set out to grant her everything she could've hoped for in the most unconventional way and in the form of a witch. Can their love withstand the promise of forever, or will Rosalie and (Y/N) succumb to the grapples of time?
A/N: well, we continue with Rosalie's revenge. Still one more chapter to go for the murder I am sure we are all waiting for. The next chapter will also be from Rosalie's "POV" since I want to show the parallel time frames for both the reader and Rose, and there's a time frame when nothing important is happening for Reader, but it does for Rose. I literally made an entire timeline to make sure things add up. Anywho, hope y'all enjoy! Also, I want to say to any and all survivors of SA that you are not alone and what happened to you is not your fault, it never will be. I hope you have healed or are healing. And if you ever just need an ear to listen, I am here. 🤍
<- Previous
It was astounding how different two lives that were connected could look so different in the same time span. Whilst (Y/N) basked in the presence of her best friend, in their love and closeness, Rosalie was going back to the Cullen residence after taking the lives of two men, with no knowledge that the witch that would change her life was less than four hours away. Had life turned out any differently, that was the closest their souls would have been to meeting. So close, yet so far.
Alas, neither knew of the existence of the other. Not yet, at least.
The blonde was angsty with revenge. Her veins itched with the need to rid the earth of those demons, to make sure no other woman ever fell victim to their claws. Her entrails churned and tightened. She needed them gone in order to finally sit with her thoughts, to allow the weight of everything that had happened to her to sink down her body.
“So you really killed them?” Edward’s voice broke through the silence of the room Carlisle had designated as hers days after the murders. “News is spreading about a psychotic killer that took the lives of the Hubert brothers. Essentially tortured them both without spilling a drop of blood. And apparently, some men have been receiving threatening letters from this killer.”
“What do you want, Edward?”
“Don’t you think it’ll serve you better just to move on? Killing those men will accomplish nothing in the long run,” he said. “Even if you think you’re ridding the world of these monsters, they will be replaced by three more. That’s the world we live in.”
“Just because you can hear my thoughts doesn’t mean that you know me,” she spoke through gritted teeth. “If you’re here to stop me from going through with my plan, then I will save you time. Carlisle could not get me to desist, and you certainly would not be able to.”
“I’m just saying, Rosalie. It won’t help you in the long run to take their lives. You’ll live with them in the back of your mind for eternity. It’s not an existence you’d want.”
“This is already an existence I don’t want, Edward. And their faces are already embedded in my head because of what they did to me. They took everything I hold dear. They took everything from me! The least I can do is take their lives. And I certainly don’t need a morality course from you.”
Edward’s words died in his throat at that moment, and Rosalie was thankful for that. The last thing she wanted was to listen to a man who thought he was better than everyone around him because he could hear their thoughts. It didn’t take long for her to figure him out. He believed he was above scrutiny. He was arrogant and entitled. And he made it all that easy to get over the fact that he did not find her attractive –not that she’d let him know. It was the thought that would protect everything she really felt.
“Well, then. If that is all, I will ask you to leave,” she smiled. “I have better things to do.”
Rosalie had nothing to do, in reality. As she let fear fester in the other three men, she did not know what to do with her days. She couldn’t leave the house because she was meant to be missing. She felt no desire to do any of the things she loved. Not even work on the 1928 Series 341-A blue Cadillac Carlisle had bought her to fix up. The only thing she could do was grow the fear inside the surviving monsters. To make sure they were sleeping with one eye open as they awaited their reckoning. Once that was over, she truly did not know what she would do with her life after.
What Rosalie did know was where Ulysses Levitt lived.
The boy came from new money, but he thought he was larger than life. Everyone in town knew where his family’s money had come from, and it wasn’t through the most legal of methods. Still, they were untouchable. Their money and their reputation made sure of that. They were safe from humans. Safe from the law raining fire down on their house and their businesses. But it didn’t protect their child from an immortal beauty dressed in the finest clothes. It didn’t keep him from becoming the next name on her revenge list.
It was still morning, but it was a cloudy day in Rochester, New York. The darkness in the sky cloaked the rains of the sun, allowing her to walk freely through the streets. Ulysses’ apartment was in the town center. And where it was usually bustling with people, barely a soul was walking the streets. The town was still reeling from the murdered Hubert brothers, the case too important to fall into the pile of cases that littered the station. There was too much money and too much influence surrounding these murders, and they needed to be solved so the people of Rochester could sleep in peace at night.
And they should have. But they did not know that the danger that lingered in their city was directed onto a very specific group of men –boys. Death had kissed the eyes of five men and had given Rosalie the power to execute Her will. If others got in her way… well, every war has its odd casualties.
Ulysses was her prey, and she was ready to go hunting.
In a sense, she pitied him. The boy had spent his entire life trying to belong. Old money mixed with new money like water and oil. It didn’t matter how much money his family had. It would never be enough to gain the same power the other families had. So, the boy –only a few years older than Rosalie– had done everything he could to fit in with the world around him. And when the events of that night were taking place, he had gone along with what his friends had told him to do. He had ravaged her body without her consent. Still, the Levitt boy was the only one of the five who had not even been able to look her in the eyes when the deed was done. He was the quickest to finish and the first one to go. And she remembered that grain of mercy.
But he had still done it. Ulysses Levitt was still the worst kind of monster.
She would grant him the same amount of mercy when it came to his death, though. Rosalie would grant him a quick and clean death. Well, with a hint of taunting. What fun would it be to simply kill him? His death would be swift, but that had nothing to do with the foreplay.
She wasn’t surprised when she found his apartment to be locked. An anxious Ulysses was talking to his father on the phone, asking if he had heard anything regarding the Hubert brothers’ killer. Telling the man that he was terrified about the threatening letters he had received and how he feared whoever had sent them would be true to their word. Unbeknownst to him, she was standing right outside his door. Granted, they were looking for a him, and they were looking for a human. Two things she was not.
Rosalie granted him the decency to end the phone call. For him to promise his father that he would call Mrs. Levitt later in the week. That he would go home on Friday for a family dinner. Things he would never get to do. But there were so many things she couldn’t do either. Not anymore. Because of him and his friends.
Just like him and the Hubert boys, she would no longer be able to have dinner with her parents. She wouldn’t be able to take a stroll outside in the daytime, feel the sun warm her skin, or even breathe the fresh air. She wouldn’t be able to plant roots in any city she would live in. And she would never be able to have children or grow old –what she had wanted most in the world. Well, that and her beauty. The only thing she would have for eternity.
But it was starting to taste bitter. Her beauty had gotten her everything, and her beauty had taken it all away. Still, she couldn’t dread on that just yet. Not until her job was done.
When Ulysses hung up the phone, she knocked softly on his apartment door. The sound of the wood echoed deep inside her ears. She covered the peephole with her hand in case he decided to look through it and ruin the surprise. But a man like him had no fears. At least, not ones he knew of.
“Hell… oh,” he choked. His eyes grew big, all the blood draining from his face. “Wha… how…?”
He tried to close the door on her, but just by reaching her hand out, Rosalie stopped it. She wanted to laugh at how scared he looked. He tripped going backward, scrambling on the floor for something to defend himself with. “What’s wrong, Ulysses?” she smiled sweetly. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Y-y-you were dead,” he stammered. “We… you were dead.”
“And I still am,” she said. “Don’t worry, you’re not going crazy, nor do you see a ghost. I can confirm that I am very much here in your presence.”
“B-but how? If you are dead, there’s no way you could be here. It’s not possible.”
“There are so many unexplainable things in this world, Ulysses. My new and improved life is one of them,” she grinned, though the words tasted bitter in her mouth. She hadn’t improved. She didn’t even want that life. But, it gave her the upper hand. It gave her just enough power to end the ones that had given Doctor Cullen no other choice but to turn her into what she was –for her body not to be a waste. “But I won’t bore you with those details. We have other things to attend to… well, we is too many people. I have other things –people– to attend to.”
“You killed Andre and Buck,” he gasped silently. “It was you that murdered them that night. And the letters… oh my god, the letters were from you too.”
“Guilty as charged,” Rosalie chuckled. “And after I am done with you, John and Royce will get what’s coming for them.”
Ulysses kept silent for a moment, his green eyes staring into the crimson red of hers. His heart had steadied, and his breathing was no longer sporadic. Somehow, being faced with inevitable death was calming him. “I deserve that,” he said. “So did the Huberts, and so do John and Royce. What we did to you was unforgivable, so I won’t stand here and apologize. I know what I took part in, and I know just how despicable my actions were. If someone had done that to my sister, I would have gone to the ends of the earth to make the ones who had done it pay. But, can I just ask for one thing?”
“And what makes you think you are deserving of a last wish?” she questioned. “I surely did not receive that commodity.”
“I know I am in no place to ask anything of you, nor do you have to grant me this request,” Ulysses responded as silent tears fell down his cheeks. “But, my mother, she’s sick, and I know it will kill her to find me here. All I want is to write her a letter. Tell her I’ve left town too ashamed of where our family has made its money. When she calls tomorrow, and I don’t answer, she will surely come here and find the letter. Then, I ask that you hide my body where she will never find it.”
“Why should I grant you this? What convolutes you into believing that you deserve that?”
“I don’t.”
His candor took Rosalie aback. All he wanted was to ease his mother’s pain because a runaway son was better than a dead one. And the look in his eyes, the way they pleaded without any more words, twisted something inside her. Maybe she was pitying the boy. Maybe she wished she could have done something like this for her own parents. Maybe it was the fact that he truly seemed to repent for his actions, unlike the empty apologies of Buck and Andre.
“Alright,” she asserted. “I will grant you that request. For your mother’s sake.”
With a sad smile, he scurried to his phone table. It took him maybe a minute or two to scribble down what he needed to say. Her eyes followed him as he packed away clothes and papers to make the lie even more believable. When he was done, it truly seemed like he was ready to journey out of New York rather than to the afterlife.
“Okay,” he sighed, tears still streaming down his eyes. “I’m ready.”
Rosalie stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She placed one hand on the back of his head and the other on his jaw. The coldness from her hands seemed to make him shiver, but other than that, he was as still as a statute.
“May your god have mercy on your soul, Ulysses,” she whispered, her eyes trained intently into his.
“Amen,” he seemed to say before the cracking of his neck filled the air.
His body fell limp onto the floor, thudding against the wood. But it was done. His green eyes were now empty, and his chest no longer breathed. Wherever his soul was sent to, she wished it a safe voyage.
The mere thought made her want to burst out in laughter. How she was wishing him a pleasant trip into the afterlife after what he had done. Even more, how she was fulfilling his last wish so that his mother could die with the hope that one day her son would come back. Those were the kinds of ironies the universe seemed to like to play.
It wasn’t hard to disappear his body. Dirt in the cemetery had recently been overturned, and it was easy enough to lay his body to rest there. The name on top of the grave would not be his, but at least he had been buried. No family to sob over his corpse, no missing posters littering the town, no one to mourn over. It was clean. It was easy. And it was much more than he deserved.
Rosalie discarded the suitcases in a garbage pile she walked by a week later on her way to the Cadillac Hotel, where John Harris was probably nursing a glass of whiskey in his room, packing his bags to head back home to Atlanta. Unfortunately, he would not return home to his money and family. He wanted to leave his mark in Rochester, and she would make sure it was a corporal statement.
Getting into the hotel was easy. As the day transitioned into night, more and more people trickled into the bar, hoping to settle their nerves while a killer ran free in their city. Unknowingly, that same killer walked amongst them in a place they thought they were safe in. And they were, technically. There was only one man amongst them who should have been trembling in his shoes, terrified of all she could do –all she would do.
She spotted him across the bar, trying his luck with a couple of girls not much older than her. And it irked her that he was not as scared for his life as he should have been. But they were paying him no mind. Thankfully, in there, they were safe. He was alone, and there were too many people around to reveal the monster that lay dormant beneath his skin. After they said no too many times and laughed in his face, he left his glass on the mahogany counter and headed for the elevators.
Rosalie thought she would lose him, but his scent had already permeated her nostrils, and she could hear the gears of the elevator clanking to a stop on the third floor. She sped up the stairs, quick enough to see him sway into room 314 and hear him lock the door behind him. Not that it would help him in any way, but he would open the door willingly.
The vampire ensured the coast was clear before she knocked on his door, standing just out of sight from the peephole.
“Who is it?” he called from the other side.
“It’s Clara,” she spoke in a higher pitch of voice. “Thought I would take you up on your offer after all.”
“I knew you’d change your mind,” he chuckled. “You girls always do.”
“Well, I couldn’t give you the wrong impression of us Rochester girls.”
“Sounds good, darling,” he said as the door clicked open. “Hel…”
His voice died in his throat as Rosalie pushed him inside. She sped until his body slumped against the armchair, and the light could hit her face. “Hello, John.”
“You’re… you’re… not…”
“I’m not Clara,” she grinned deviously. “Luckily, she was able to escape your disgusting claws. You get me for the night instead.”
“No, no, no!” John stammered. “You’re dead. I saw you… on the street. You were dead.”
“I’m honestly getting tired of people saying that,” she laughed dryly. “I am dead –in a sense. My heart is not beating, my lungs are not breathing, and my appetite… well, let’s just say it’s out of this world.”
“W-what do you w–want? I’ll give you anything,” he pleaded. Tears fell down his eyes, and it made her scoff. “Please, I am a good man.”
“It’s hard to say with all those clothes on,” she grinned. “How could you ever measure the caliber of a person with a simple look? Especially when your vision is shielded with so many pieces of clothing.”
“I’m sorry I said that,” he cried. “I was drunk and off my head. I promise I have never done anything like that before.”
“Somehow, I highly doubt that, John. See, you paint me as the type of man that takes what he wants when he wants it, regardless of who you hurt. You take, and you take until you are satiated and leave others to deal with the aftermath of your actions. You took everything you wanted from my body and left me there to rot on that street.”
“And I know how wrong it was of us,” he rambled. “But we were drunk out of our minds, and we weren’t thinking straight. We should have come back for you. At the very least, we should have left you at the hospital.”
“You shouldn’t have touched me in the first place,” Rosalie spat. “You should have let me go home to my family. You should have allowed my marriage to go through. You should have let me have the life that I deserved. Instead, you took everything from me.”
“Then, tell me what to do to fix this. Please, I know I can fix this.”
Rosalie smiled, unable to shed tears of anger. There was something he had to do, but it would not spare his life. No. It would only gift him with a few seconds more. “What you will do is pick up that phone,” she said, pointing at the ivory-white device. “You will call your pal, Royce. And you will warn him that someone is coming for him. That somehow, a man found out what you did to me and is picking you all off one by one. You will tell him that he should hide. To burrow himself in the deepest corner he can muster. And then, you will hang up.”
“And after, will you spare me?” John questioned, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.
“Oh, John, of course not,” she laughed melodiously. “But I’m saving Royce for last, and I want his death to be delicious. At least make my death count for something.”
“W-what if I called the police instead? They will tear down this door and stop you.”
“I’d be long gone before they even had a chance to step foot into the hotel. And you’d still be dead as well as Royce. Because, thanks to your brutality, I have become faster and stronger than any human in existence. I am invincible, John. Something I wasn’t that night. So, pick up that phone and call your friend before I lose my patience and snap your neck earlier in the schedule.”
With trembling hands, John lifted the receiver from the stand, rotating in the number she dictated. She could see the beads of sweat that were forming on his forehead; she could hear the way his heart beat frantically; she could almost feel the way his bones rattled inside his skin. It was an addictive feeling. The power she had over him, and she didn’t even have to move a muscle. All she required was the way she looked and the words she spoke. Maybe that was why they had done it. Simply because they could.
“Oh, hello, Mrs. King,” John said as the other line picked up, panic deeply laced into his words. “Yes, it’s John. I just had some quick words to say to Royce… I did hear about the Huberts. Such a shame… I didn’t know that Ulysses ran away… Yes, maybe one day… Yeah, I don’t have much time. Is Royce there…? Of course. Thank you, Mrs. King.”
Rosalie listened to every syllable he spoke, making sure he did not step out of script. She wanted to terrify Royce King with an invisible threat. She wanted him to feel like he was being watched –like he was being hunted. She wanted him to cower into despair, even if only for a few hours. She wanted him to feel weak.
“Listen, Royce,” John’s voice spoke again. “I don’t have much time. But someone found out about Rosalie just like we thought… I don’t know how, but they are picking us off one by one… He tried to get me tonight, man… Listen, just… you have to hide, okay? Find someplace secluded and stay there until shit dies down… Ulysses didn’t leave, Royce. He’s dead… Just hide. Tonight!”
The receiver hit the base with a loud pang, and John’s gaze fell back on Rosalie. The devilish smile she wore made his insides shiver; she could perceive that much. He looked frail and weak. Nothing like the monster that had ravaged her body without her consent. The creature that had used fangs and claws to take from her something that she was not giving.
“Good,” she applauded. “It’s nice to see a man that can follow instructions. Now, John. This won’t be messy, but it will be rather slow. And I’ll tell you exactly how I’m going to do it.”
“God, please, just spare me. Royce is the one that you want,” he begged, falling onto his knees before her. “He’s the one that should have protected you. Please, just let me go back home.”
“Do you think I can go home, John? Did any of you spare me and grant me the mercy of going home?” she asked through gritted teeth. “You didn’t. No. You took my life into your hands and watched as, minute by minute, it drained and slipped from your fingers. And that’s exactly how you’re going to go, John. I will wrap my cold, dead hands around your throat and cut out your life source until there is nothing left. I will look into your eyes until your soul leaves your body. And I will make sure I am the last face you ever stare at on this earth.”
John scrambled backward on the armchair. The piece of furniture clattered onto the ground as the man made a futile attempt to escape to his balcony. There was nowhere he could go. No one he could call.
“You can’t do this!” he wailed. “Not to me. You can’t do this to me!”
“Don’t you get it? The time for clamoring is over, John. Now, say your goodbyes to the world.”
In an instant, Rosalie stood before him. Her pale hands wrapped around his neck, just as she had described. He tried to claw at them, to hurt her enough to run. But his nails were met with stone-like skin –impenetrable. He could not even move his head at the grip she held him with. Only his arms and legs could reach for a desperate attempt at freedom. Something that would never come.
She knew it hadn’t taken long. But time seemed to have slowed as she watched the colors change on the man’s face. Her fingers barely squeezed, but his skin turned an array of reds and purples until it finally paled. And she swore she could tell the second his soul finally left his body. His eyes turned lifeless right before her own. They had emptied themselves, confirming the void that had been created inside of his body. There were no more pleas, no more tears, no more anger. He was simply another body. And just like he had done to her, Rosalie left his body on the ground for someone else to find.
He wasn’t the death that would satiate her. No. Royce was on his way to dig his own grave. He just didn’t know it yet.
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More Posts from Cheshirecat484 and Others
As a bag balm fan, I'm insulted. But also I totally understand lol, maybe try Aquaphor or Vaseline! A bit pricier but works really well, and doesn't smell like sheep.
Me, to a group: hey it's like bitter cold and my skin's killing me, old lotion isn't cutting it
Group: try bag balm, it's amazing! Cheap! Farmers use it on their hands and put it on a cow's udders in cold weather! We swear by it!
Me: cool, I'll grab some!
Me, 2 days later:
I SMELL
LIKE FUCKING
SHEEP
The angst was painful today, ouch 😔
Gorgeous chapter with a really cute and wholesome ending. I'm so excited to see more of this series!!!
Running in Circles | Chapter 10
Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: mentions of death, religious trauma
Summary: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss, and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?
A/N: a few days behind is better than a whole year 🫣 anywho very sentimental chapter ahead
<- Previous
Winter had come at full force that December, and maybe that was the first sign of all that was to come. But for (Y/N), it only signified the anniversary of her mother’s death.
Just like she had done every year before, she had taken that day off, knowing her mind would be elsewhere, and her body would want to be there. Even if it fell on a weekend, she had to be sure that no calls would disturb the day. The monsters could wait one more day.
She looked herself over in the mirror. The turtleneck she had chosen felt particularly choking, her pants hung too low for comfort, and her mother’s necklace stood out too brightly against the dark clothing. Nothing was right. Nothing would ever be right. She pushed her hair behind her shoulders and sighed. That was as good as it would ever get.
She slipped her coat on before she left her house, and she wondered what her mother would have thought of her home. Would she have wanted her closer to the family home? Would she have liked the décor? Would she have poked fun at how messy the house could sometimes get, or would she not have cared at all? Those were answers she would never get. At least not from the one person that mattered the most.
Her father’s car was waiting outside for her, his face wearing a similar solemn look to the one she had. It was the same routine every year. He’d come to pick her up, they’d go to the cemetery, and when David would tell stories of Iris, she would listen. Because she had none to share of her own. She had no memories, no stories, nothing to know of her mother that was her own.
“Hey, dad,” she said as she jumped into the SUV. “It’s a cold one today.”
“It really is,” he chuckled softly “I brought you some coffee and a butter croissant. Something tells me you didn’t eat breakfast today.”
“You know me too well, dad,” she snickered, taking the warm cup between her hands to heat her freezing hands. “Did you eat already?”
“Had myself a bowl of oatmeal with berries and bananas like your mom used to like,” he replied. “Washed it all down with some coffee and came here.”
“That’s good,” she croaked, forcing a smile. “Were you able to get the flowers? My local shop was closed when I went by yesterday.”
“Yeah. I’ve got the bouquet back there,” he smiled. “Peonies, irises, roses, lilies, and baby’s breath. All the ones she liked.”
Every time her father said things like that, her heart broke just a little more. He didn’t know it. She would never say it. But the fact that he had lived a life with her mother when she didn’t even know what she sounded like hurt. It pained her to miss a person she never had a chance to remember.
“Do you know it was your mom that would call you little bird?”
“Did she?”
“She said you were always jumping around and fleeting from flower to flower when you were outside, just like a hummingbird would. That’s why she got that necklace made for you,” David chuckled at the memory. “Even when you were just a little baby, you always seemed to calm when you were with her in the garden.”
“Well, her garden has to be the best one in all of Virginia. Even to this day.”
“You have Emile to thank for that,” he laughed. “If it had been up to me, it would have died so many years ago.”
“And I guess I inherited your lack of a green thumb.”
“That you did, little birdie,” he said. “But you did inherit her good taste. For your third birthday, the last one with your mother –may God have her in his glory—you insisted on having a garden fairy party. Iris asked you what flowers you wanted everywhere, and you said peonies. Well, at the time, you called them peenies.”
“I… I don’t remember that,” she stammered. “I wish I did.”
“That’s okay, little bird. We have the pictures, and I’m sure there’s a VHS somewhere with the video. Just have to check in storage, which might take a bit more than it should.”
“It wouldn’t if you let me organize it, dad. I’ve told you many times that you need to set up a system so things don’t get lost in all the junk you still have from the olden days.”
“Hey! You learned a lot from those olden days,” he pouted. “Those olden days paid for everything we have.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not disorganized.”
By the time they had reached the cemetery, they were a mix of laughter and sadness, coupled with the most beautiful bouquet they’d brought to date. There was a thin blanket of snow covering the ground, a cold breeze whistling through the air. It was a horrible day to be out, but they wouldn’t miss it for the world.
(Y/N) was expecting the bad weather. And although her coat did nothing to warm her against the wind, she hugged it closer to her body. What she was not expecting was to find Hotchner and Jack waiting on a bench right in front of her mother’s grave.
“Aaron,” David called out with a smile that alerted the father and son to their presence. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Once they were near enough, Jack took off on a soft run toward the woman. “(Y/N)!” he called as he reached to hug her. “You said we could come, remember?”
“Of course I do, buddy,” she smiled softly. “I’m happy to see you.”
“This is your mom, right?” The boy led her to her mother’s tombstone by the hand. “Iris Jensen.”
“That’s right,” she said. (Y/N) knelt down and ran her hand across the picture of her mother, tears already building in her eyes. “This is my mom.”
“She’s very pretty.”
“She is, isn’t she?” (Y/N) chuckled as her body betrayed her. Tears fell down her eyes before she could stop them, warming her skin before turning freezing under the weather. Jack quickly reached into his jacket, pulled out a blue handkerchief, and handed it to her. “Thanks, kid.”
“Jack, why don’t you join me on the bench, and I can tell you about her?” David said. “I’ve got some great stories.”
“Is that okay, (Y/N)?”
“Of course, Jack,” she smiled. “Go ahead.”
As the kid ran to her father, Hotchner wrapped his arms around her. Normally, she would have grown flustered at the interaction, but at that moment, she needed the comfort. “You okay?” he asked quietly. “This must be so hard.”
“I don’t know why I’m like this,” she muttered. “It’s been years already. I barely even knew her.”
“She was still your mom, (Y/N). It’s only natural that you feel this way.”
“I don’t even remember what she sounds like,” the woman sniffled. “I don’t even know what kind of mom she would have been growing up.”
“I… I’m sorry, (Y/N). I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s okay,” she smiled softly as she let him go. She got on her knees and started cleaning the tombstone, removing all specs of snow regardless of how futile it may have been. “There’s not much to say.”
“All I know is that I wish I had met her.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled. “Me too.”
Aaron left her by herself then, allowing her the space to tell her mother about the year that had passed. She told her about her cases, told her about her friends, and even told her about her ever-growing feelings for an unmentionable person. But, most of all, she told her about how much she missed her.
But it didn’t go over her head how she missed someone that much without really knowing who they were. She carried inside an emptiness that wasn’t easily filled, and as hard as her father tried, never would be. And David tried, in his own way. He had his own grief to carry, and she knew that. She knew he hurt and wished Iris was still with them. But he’d found solace in the time he had shared with her while (Y/N) yearned for even just a second more with her mom.
“I wish you were here, mom,” she cried as she stood. “I see videos of you, and I can’t tell if that’s what you really sounded like or if your voice is too distorted by the camera. I wish you’d had more time, mom.”
“You and me both, little birdie,” her father said as he joined her. “But she’s in God’s glory now.”
(Y/N)’s blood boiled at that moment. She had never been religious, much to her father’s dismay. More than just the deity not fitting into her scientific mind, she couldn’t believe in a god like her father did. Normally, she didn’t mind his religious interjections. They were a part of who he was, and she didn’t want to belittle his beliefs. But that day, something inside her couldn’t stand it. Much less when he started to mutter a prayer.
“I’ve asked you to please not pray aloud when we’re here, dad. Do you mind?”
“Honey…”
“No, dad. I really don’t want to listen to you talk about your god or ask to have mom in his infinite mercy. I don’t wanna hear about it!” Her tone came out harsher than she intended, but she couldn’t contain herself. Years and years of bottling up her feelings had her at her limit, and it was that moment that they had chosen to spill over. “Just, keep it in your head.”
“I don’t understand, (Y/N). You never minded before,” David muttered. “There was a time you used to believe in God. You even used to ask me to pray with you.”
“Jesus, dad, I did that for you.” As she exclaimed Hotch told Jack to wait for him in the car, that (Y/N) needed a moment to herself. Hesitantly, the boy followed his father’s instructions and walked the short trail to the van. All he could understand was that (Y/N) was upset. Once Jack was gone, she continued. “How could I ever believe in a god that took my mother away before I could even remember what my name sounded in her voice? I only went along with it because it seemed to make you happy, but I can’t anymore. I can’t listen to another word of how your god is merciful and how it was all his plan. He took my mother from me. How could I believe in a god that would take a mother from a child? All the memories I have of her are from behind a screen or moments lived by other people. I don’t remember anything about her that’s mine only, dad. You always tell me how you would love to have a second chance with my mom, and I didn’t even get one.”
(Y/N) crumbled to the ground once more and suddenly felt arms around her. Instantly, she knew who it was and found herself sinking into Hotch’s embrace. He tried his best to calm her, telling her that everything would be okay and that she wasn’t alone. She was normally the strong one. She was always the one who kept it all inside and helped others. But too many years of that had her shattered on the ground of the cemetery.
It took a few minutes for her sobs to finally subside, Hotch’s soothing circles on her arms working overtime to calm her down. They had ended up sitting on the cold ground, the snow slowly making its way through their clothes, but neither seemed to care. All that mattered was the comfort and the presence. Nothing else.
“You okay?” Hotch whispered as she finally seemed to calm. “Feeling better?”
“I don’t even know,” she chuckled weakly. “Your pants are dirty now. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry, I have a washer,” he joked. “But how are you feeling? I know this must be a very overwhelming situation.”
“I don’t know what I’m feeling, honestly,” she sighed, sinking into the warmth of Hotchner. “It’s the first time I’ve ever blown up like that toward my dad, and I don’t know why I did. It’s been over twenty years that we’ve been coming here, and I’ve never acted like this.”
“I think it’s safe to assume you’ve been bottling up all these feelings for all that time. They were bound to come out one day or another.”
“Don’t profile me, Hotch,” she pouted. “But you’re right. I mean, he lost the woman he loved, and even though I lost my mom, I felt bad for him because he’s the one who had all the memories with her. I never wanted him to feel bad or guilty for the fact that I had to grow up without her. Still, every time he says something like her death was god’s plan or that he has her in her mercy, it just sets me off.”
“Have you ever thought that religion is the way that he copes with her death? Maybe thinking that she is in heaven or that it was her time is his way to come to terms with the fact that she is gone.”
“I guess a part of me does understand that. But there’s a side that doesn’t want to,” she sighed. “But I guess I have to apologize for the tantrum.”
“Your feelings are valid, (Y/N). It’s just the way you express them that could be hurtful to others. But your dad’s a big boy,” he chuckled softly. “He’s at the car with Jack. You ready to go over there?”
“As ready as I can be.”
Hotchner got up first, waiting with his hand extended until she needed it. And with another glance at the tombstone, she took the hand and stood up as well. The man walked beside her the entire time, his presence alone was enough to keep her grounded. As much as she wanted to break down and fall apart, she needed to keep it together.
“And she could spend days in her studio just painting, forgetting that hours passed. She would just lose herself painting and painting,” her father smiled as he talked to Jack. “She would have been there the entire day if I had let her.”
“Do you have any of her paintings still?”
“Of course! All over the house,” he chuckled. “Would you like to see them, Jack?”
“Yes! Can we, dad?” Jack asked as he noticed his father’s approaching figure. “I wanna see the paintings.”
“If it’s alright with Dave, then it’s alright with me.”
“Of course!” the man exclaimed. “The more the merrier. We’ll see you there.”
David and (Y/N) walked to the car in silence. Not saying a single word until they were inside. “I’m sorry, dad,” she finally muttered. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did. You don’t deserve that.”
“I’d say it was long overdue, kid,” he smiled softly. “You like to keep the peace and keep everything in. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before. You have nothing to apologize for, little bird.”
“But I do, dad. I shouldn’t have yelled at you regardless.”
“Your mother used to say that yelling is the way the soul speaks,” he said. “When you can no longer keep anything in, it comes out fast and unmeasured. Words come out with thorns and spikes. And much like a flower, they don’t mean to hurt you, but it is in their nature to protect themselves. It’s okay to let it out once in a while. Doesn’t matter how it hurts. If my beliefs hurt you, mia bella, all you have to do is tell me. I will try my best to keep it to a minimum.”
“And I will try to talk about how I’m feeling instead of yelling it,” she smiled, taking her father’s hand in hers. “I love you, dad. And I’m still sorry.”
“I love you too, little bird,” he beamed. “And you can make it up to me by helping with dessert tonight. We’re making your mom’s favorite.”
“Tiramisu,” they chorused.
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I'm sad that it's over, but this was such a lovely end to it! I love how you tied up the loose end with her sister, and gave us a somewhat vague, but still sweet idea of what the future for these characters would be.
One part I loved was that Reader got a job, and is becoming her own person, outside of Billy, but still with him by her side, it's really great to see that development.
I loved this entire fic, so if I'm not already on the next taglist, feel free to add me, your writing is fantastic!
Thank you for the amazing fic, and I can't wait to see more!
Take Care Author! <3
(Once Bitten) Twice Shy
Epilogue
Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut and fluff. A lot more violence than usual. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.
Word Count : 4.3k
A/N : 😭
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN
MASTER LIST
Epilogue
It wasn’t easy.
But, then, when had anything in your life ever really been easy?
In the weeks that followed, you struggled to adapt to your new reality, your body waking you at daybreak and having you exhausted by nightfall, suffering with pangs of hunger that seemed almost unquenchable. Both Frank and Billy told you it would get better, that you would adjust, but that didn’t stop the occasional breakdown, the moments where everything felt like it was too much.
You watched as Billy’s heart broke over and over again, when he’d find you on the floor in your kitchen, sobbing and eating oreos, or walking around the penthouse in the middle of the day so exhausted that you could barely function.
On the bad days, he would take you into his rooms, close the curtains and hold you in pitch blackness, softly shushing you as you sobbed in his arms, whispering gentle apologies in your ear.
Feeding wasn’t any easier; you still gagged and felt sick sometimes, and certain kinds of blood didn’t seem to agree with you.
Finally you understood why Billy had made you follow such strict rules when it came to your health and diet as sometimes, some blood left you feeling ill like you’d eaten something that had gone off. And, as your senses became more acute, it only seemed to get worse.
But, eventually, a solution was found to every problem; Billy stayed with you for weeks, helping you adjust to your new day/night cycle, and special blood was ordered for you once he figured out exactly what you needed. And, once those issues were sorted, your breakdowns became fewer until you finally felt like you could handle your new life.
After that, the only issue left was Billy and your relationship.
You loved him, and you knew that he loved you, but you needed time. Everything between you had happened so quickly and it felt like you’d missed out on so many steps. When you finally felt up to it, Billy started to take you out on dates; to dinner, to museum exhibitions, and even to the cinema. Little things, little steps that allowed you to grow closer as a couple. And, at the end of every night, he left you to decide if you wanted to sleep in his bed or your own.
The physical side of your relationship didn’t change or slow; Billy couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you and you didn’t want him to. Being a vampire made everything feel heightened and you soon got why Billy craved moments of touch and intimacy. But, as far as your relationship went, you took things slowly.
And, after a few months, you were finally able to do what you’d told him you wanted to do. You found a job.
It was only a few nights a week at a local library and, for the first couple of weeks, Billy had insisted on walking you there and back, but he soon had to focus on his own work and you were able to gain the sense of freedom that you sought, both physically and financially.
Billy laughed every time you tried to pay for something or split a check, telling you to spend your money on yourself, on things that you wanted, things that would make you happy. At first, it annoyed you but, as you got closer, and you became privy to things like his finances, you realised just how wealthy he was.
But you didn’t let that deter you. You’d taken a job because you wanted to be able to contribute and that’s exactly what you started doing.
It was a cactus first. A tiny plant that you hoped would grow much bigger. You’d read that, in the right environment and with proper care, some cacti could live hundreds of years and that was what you wanted; something that would stay with you over the decades.
When you’d first brought the tiny little thing into the penthouse, Billy had frowned, then laughed, before getting a little table from the library for it to sit on and placing it by the window.
Over the weeks that followed, you got more plants, more things that made the penthouse feel like a home; cushions, lamps, artwork for the wall. You even insisted on hanging some fairy lights around that, when turned on, gave the place a magical and romantic glow.
And Billy went along with it, never complaining, always helping you, whether it was putting up more shelves for plants, hanging lights, or moving furniture to make space.
Karen gushed over the new furnishings, commenting on how Billy’s bachelor pad now looked like a real home, and your heart melted when he responded that it was a home now that you were in it.
And, every now and then, Billy would turn up with a new stuffed animal for you, until you had a small menagerie of stuffies, each with names more ridiculous than the last, all some loose version of Billy - though he threatened to stop when you announced that one of them was to be called Billiam.
After five months had passed, you’d fallen into a rhythm with Billy and, for the first time in your life, everything felt perfect. You were happy, you were in love. All the self-doubt and uncertainty that you’d carried when you first arrived at the penthouse was gone. And, no matter how much time passed, Billy seemed intent on constantly surprising you and doing everything he could to keep showing you that he loved you.
The moment Karen offered to pick you up after work on your birthday, you knew something was going on, you knew she’d been roped into one of his schemes. But nothing could have prepared you for the surprise party that was waiting for you when the elevator doors slid open and you stepped into the penthouse.
Everybody yelled ‘surprise’ as they jumped from their hiding spots, but the moment your eyes found him, it felt like there was no one else in the room.
He stepped towards you and took your hand in his before kissing you softly.
“Happy birthday, hummingbird,” he said with a smile that always made you feel loved and safe in equal measure.
“Did you do all of this on your own?” You asked, finally letting your gaze drift about the penthouse.
“I had a little bit of help from Karen,” he admitted. “But I do have something else for you, something special that I want you to have before the party really starts.”
You looked at him, searching his face for some idea of what it could be, your mind racing back to the first party you’d attended in the penthouse. But on his face you found something you didn’t expect, an uncertainty, a nervousness, as if he wasn’t sure how you were going to react to his surprise.
“What is it?” You asked.
“I think it’s easier just to show you,” he explained.
Billy didn’t wait for a response before slowly starting to lead you towards the library. Whatever it was, your friends seemed clued in; you caught a reassuring smile from Karen and a nod from Frank. Even Foggy managed to look silently supportive of whatever you were about to face.
As the library door opened, a figure stood up from the sofa.
You froze in the doorway, a thousand different emotions going to war inside you.
“Irene,” your sister's name fell from your lips as little more than a whisper, too quiet for any but Billy to hear it.
She offered an apologetic smile but seemed just as lost for words as you were. Billy’s hand gave yours a reassuring squeeze, letting you know that he was still there and that he’d support you if you needed him to.
Finally she took a step forward.
“You’re all grown up,” she remarked softly and all you could do was nod.
You hand gripped Billy’s even as you managed to take a step, still not sure how you wanted to feel or what you could possibly say to her after so many years apart.
“Billy found me,” she tried to explain, “he told me about what happened and how you ended up here.”
Your eyes flickered to Billy and he saw just how lost you were.
“Madani tracked her down,” he said softly. “I didn’t want to say anything to you until I knew that Irene wanted to see you. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case she decided that she didn’t want to see you.”
It made sense and you certainly weren’t upset about it, but you still struggled to deal with the situation.
“You left me,” you finally said, voice breaking as you turned your attention back to Irene. “You said you’d come back for me.”
“I -” she started before hesitating, “- I tried. Just before your eighteenth birthday. I came to get you, but dad caught me. He told me that if I ever left with you, he’d make sure I was arrested for kidnapping and I -”
She fell silent again and you watched as she tried to blink back tears. In the silence, you found yourself leaning into Billy’s side.
“I’d just found out I was pregnant,” Irene continued. “I have children now. Three of them. I wanted to take you away with me, but I...”
You watched her wipe a tear from her cheek and your heart ached for her, finally starting to understand what had happened and why she hadn’t come back for you. She had to choose between you and her unborn child, and you couldn’t fault her for putting the baby first.
Nodding, you struggled to find the words. It was overwhelming and, while you didn’t blame Irene or Billy for the situation, you wished that you’d had some warning, some time to prepare all the things you wanted to say to her. Although you’d played this moment over and over in your head since the day she’d left home, you’d never really been able to settle on what you’d say or how you’d feel.
You gave Billy’s hand one last squeeze before letting it go and moving towards Irene.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” he said softly, waiting just a moment to make sure you didn’t need him to stay, before leaving the library and closing the door behind him.
“He seems really nice,” Irene offered, smiling at you.
“He is,” you answered. “He saved my life.”
“Can you tell me about it?” She asked cautiously. “I want to hear about your life, about everything I’ve missed out on.”
You took a seat on the sofa and waited for her to join you, your mind still racing, wondering how you could ever explain the last eleven months of your life to someone who wasn’t there to see it.
“Well, it started when I saw a job advertisement online, just over a year ago...”
Irene sat, mostly quiet, listening as you explained how you needed to leave home in order to escape a forced marriage, just like she had. You told her about coming to New York and how you and Billy had slowly bonded over your shared love of literature, and how it had culminated in you falling in love. Then, with a little less certainty, you told her how you were turned and how your life had been going since that moment.
At some point she’d taken hold of your hand and held it between her own on her lap, her eyes never leaving your face, completely caught up in your story.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” she told you at the end.
“It’s okay... I wasn’t on my own.”
You could see that now; Billy, Karen, even Frank, and Matt and Foggy. You had people in your life, people who cared about you. People who looked out for you. (People who would kill for you.)
She looked at her watch and a sadness filled her expression.
“I should let you get back to your party. Tom - my husband - and the kids are at the hotel,” she explained and you visibly brightened.
“You’re staying in the city?”
“Yeah, for a few days. I’d like you to meet my family. If - I mean, if that’s something you’d want to do, I know -”
“You want them to meet me, even though I’m a vampire now?”
“Of course,” she answered without hesitation. “You’re my little sister and I want you back in my life.”
“I’d love to meet them,” you told her, finally finding the strength to throw your arms around your sister’s shoulders and hug her tight.
Her arms wrapped around you and, for a few bittersweet minutes, you stayed like that, both of you trying desperately not to cry. After a few false starts, she managed to pull away from you and you both got to your feet. You walked her out of the library and towards the elevator, making plans to meet the next night so you could finally meet your niece and nephews.
No sooner had the doors slid shut, Billy was at your side, his arms wrapping around you as you pressed your face against his chest. You clung to him, feeling overwhelmed again, feeling so full of emotion that you might burst. His hand stroked your hair and he kissed the top of your head, muttering how much he loved you, holding you until you were ready to enjoy your party.
And you did enjoy it.
The night was spent laughing with your friends with Billy always close to your side, barely able to keep his hands off you for more than a few short minutes at a time. You talked about work and made plans for the future, and Karen managed to ruin one of your birthday surprises by telling you about a two-week polar night cruise around Alaska that Billy and Frank had booked so you could have a couples vacation that was vampire friendly.
Billy was a little upset that his surprise was ruined prematurely, but he seemed to forget all about it when you pulled him close and kissed him deeply, something that you didn’t usually like to do in front of other people.
You drank, ate cake, and laughed the night away, until it was time for your friends to start leaving.
While Billy lingered by the elevator, talking to Frank, you waved farewell to Karen and decided to go get ready for bed, stopping off at your room to pick up a little present you’d been holding onto for Billy that you finally wanted to give him. Then, you made your way to his bedroom.
You quickly washed and changed into a sheer, powder blue negligee, and sat yourself on the edge of his bed next to his gift, waiting for him. It wasn’t long before he joined you, stepping into the room and pausing at the sight of you, making no attempt to hide the way his eyes took in every inch of your body.
Getting to your feet, you twirled, deciding to really give him an eyeful. Billy laughed and, before you knew it, you were laughing too.
“Not that I’m complaining, but what’s all this for?” He asked.
“I want to sleep in here with you, and -” you hesitated a moment as you turned and picked up the carefully wrapped gift and offered it to him, “- I wanted to give you a present.”
“You got me a present?” He looked down at the present in his hands, confused but still smiling. “But it’s your birthday.”
“I know, but it’s for both of us... kind of...” you said, a sudden feeling of nervousness causing a tremor in your voice.
Slowly, carefully, Billy tore open the wrapping and was left more confused than ever by what he found.
“It’s bed linen,” you explained.
“I can see that,” he answered, a hint of uncertain laughter in his tone as he looked at it.
You’d chosen a striking pattern of dark blues and petrol green, dark but still colourful, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn’t the bed linen itself that he didn’t understand, it was the gesture and what it meant.
You took a slow breath and started to explain; “it’s just... well, it’s really dark in here, and if I’m going to start staying in here, I thought we could make it a little brighter, and -”
“You want to stay in my room?” He asked, clearly trying to fight back a smile just in case he was jumping to the wrong conclusion. “You want to move into my room permanently?”
In the time it took you to nod, Billy had dropped the bed linen and cleared the distance between you, his hands framing your face and tilting it up so his lips could find yours. He kissed you with an eager desire that told you all you needed to know; he was happy, he wanted you to move into his room.
“I love you,” he muttered against your lips. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” you answered back.
As he kissed you again, your fingers started to tug at his shirt, untucking it from his pants before clumsily pulling open the buttons, so you could touch his bare skin. While you dealt with his shirt, Billy quickly undid and lowered his pants, leading you backwards towards the bed as he stepped out of them.
He kissed you in a way that left you feeling bereft, like you didn’t think he’d ever be able to match the passion and love that he was showing you then, that no moment would ever feel as good as that one did. But it was a silly thought, one you knew was wrong. There was no limit to the depths of his love. And there was none to yours either, not when it came to Billy.
His shirt slipped from his shoulders, joining his pants on the ground just a split-second before you were lifted off your feet and deposited on the bed beneath him. Already, you could feel the hard press of his erection between your thighs, and it was enough to have you moaning against his lips.
For a few wonderful minutes, he was content to stay like that, his body pressed down on top of yours while you kissed. You loved moments like that, moments where there was no frantic rush, moments where it felt like you had all the time in the world to just love and enjoy each other.
Finally, he pulled away from your lips and lifted himself, letting his eyes drift down your body, taking in the sight of you all over again.
“You’re beautiful,” he told you softly, just enjoying the moment of stillness before letting his hand trail over the sheer fabric of your negligee. “And I love this.”
“I thought you might,” you smiled up at him, content to let him take his time.
His hand began to trace the curves of your body through the gossamer fabric, making a point of running his fingers over the ticklish spot on your side that he’d discovered that first night you’d spent together in front of the TV. A smile spread across his lips as you squirmed and giggled beneath him.
“I love you,” he said again.
There was something so serious in his voice, something that had you reaching up to cup his cheek, wanting to settle any terrible thoughts or doubts that might be in his head.
“I know you do, Billy,” you reassured him softly. “And I love you. With all my heart.”
His smile grew wider and whatever had taken hold of him seemed to let go. And, finally, he started to move down your body.
Soft hands slipped up your thighs, fingers hooking the little panties that you wore beneath the negligee and quickly relieving you of them. And, still, despite all the months that you’d spent with him, he always managed to look at you like it was his first time really seeing you. Once your panties were gone, he slowly moved down the bed, settling himself between your thighs, slowly trailing kisses from your knee up your leg.
Even though you were more than used to his lips between your thighs and the way his tongue could make you feel, you still gasped at the first touch, each and every time. In your time together, he’d learned every inch of you and how to make your body shake with pleasure.
Your fingers slipped into his hair and tugged lightly as his tongue slid between your folds. He groaned against you, tasting your arousal before focusing his attention on your clit, circling the throbbing bundle. Unrestrained moans started to fall from your lips and, soon enough, you felt his fingers breach your walls, slowly thrusting into the heat of your body while he undid you with his tongue.
His name fell from your lips over and over as you felt yourself climb higher and higher, your fingers curling tighter in his hair.
You looked down at him, waiting for his permission as pleasure coiled tight inside you and, finally, he gave you the slightest of nods. It was all you needed. You came hard as his fingers and tongue continued to work in concert with each other, trying to prolong your ecstasy until it was too much to bear and your thighs started to tremble violently.
Finally he pulled back, wiping his lips and watching you as your head fell back on the pillow.
“Mmmm,” you hummed, breathless but smiling. “Best birthday present ever.”
“Oh, hummingbird, I’m just getting started,” he muttered.
You didn’t move until prompted, sitting up for him so he could finally remove your negligee, then dropping back to the pillow while he got rid of his boxers. And you watched him, you watched every little move that he made, taking in the sight of him just as he had with you only ten minutes before.
It brought a smile to your face to think how obsessed you still were with each other.
Soon, he was positioned between your thighs again, teasing you, running the leaking tip of his cock between your folds, trailing it up and down from your entrance to your clit until you were needily squirming beneath him.
“Billy, please...”
“What do you need, hummingbird?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know.
“You, Billy,” you whined. “I need you.”
And that was all he needed to hear.
Your head fell back and you let out a long moan as his cock notched into you and started to fill you. His pace was torturously slow and he watched every little flicker of pleasure that crossed your features. You loved these moments when he’d take his time, when he’d make love to you and show you how much you meant to him.
Linking your hands behind his neck, you pulled him down and into an eager kiss. More little moans slipped from your lips and into his as he started to move in slow, deep thrusts that sent bolts of pleasure up and down your spine. You back arched, heels digging into the mattress, lifting your hips to meet his every movement.
When the kiss broke, your lungs felt like they were burning. But there was no time to think about that, no time to think about anything but the way Billy was making you feel. His lips moved to your neck, kissing and sucking at your skin, while one of his hands played with your breast. He was everywhere and everything to you, and when you were together like this, you felt like two pieces of a whole.
He made you feel like the characters from all the books you’d read; you felt like Jane Eyre finally happy and free with her Mr Rochester (just minus the burnt down home).
He made you happier than you’d ever dared to believe you could be.
“Billy,” you moaned softly into his ear with reverence.
“Come for me, little hummingbird,” he muttered in response.
On command, you fell apart for him, clinging to him as your body shivered and shook with pleasure.
“Billy, I love you,” you managed between your moans.
Billy gasped, suddenly overcome by his own orgasm. The movements of his hips turned sloppy as you felt him empty himself inside you, trembling almost as much as you were.
“I love you,” you said again, finding his lips and kissing him, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight.
When he stilled, he lingered, not wanting to pull out or pull away from you but, eventually, he rolled away, ending up on his back beside you. You both basked in the afterglow as you slowly came down from your highs.
Turning on your side, you lifted yourself so your face was above his. His eyes closed and he let out a contented sigh as your fingers ran through his hair, lightly scratching your nails against his scalp just the way he liked. Then you leaned, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, then one of each of his closed eyes and then, finally, his lips.
“Thank you,” you whispered softly.
“What for?” He dared to ask.
“For loving me for who I am,” you tried to explain, “and for letting me have a life of my own.”
“I should be thanking you for exactly the same thing,” he told you, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you towards him, holding you against his chest.
Neither of you said another word that night.
You didn’t need to.
You had each other, and that was all you needed.
End Note : It's finally over 😭😭😭 Thank you so much for all the lovely comments and messages over the last week, it really means a lot that so many people have enjoyed this story. I hope the epilogue gives an added bit of closure on a couple of issues (I know some people were interested in the sister) though I have also left some things open because I would love to come back to this version of Billy some time in the future. (Honestly, I need a little break from gothic stuff because I made the mistake of rereading Flowers in the Attic the other day and it left me emotionally broken 😅) There won't be any Billy fics from me next week, which feels so weird to me, but I realised that I've posted at least once a week, every week for the last 42 weeks so I think I'm due a week off. At the moment, I think I'll be starting the stalker!Billy fic on the 6th of September but, in the mean time I might also work on my omegaverse!Bucky fic. In the meantime, my ask box is always open if you have thoughts/feelings/questions/headcanons about anything I've written.
Anyway, thank you so much for reading and following week after week, and thank you so much to those of you who have liked/commented/reblogged! Hope you all have a great weekend!
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.
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@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad
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As a bag balm fan, I'm insulted. But also I totally understand lol, maybe try Aquaphor or Vaseline! A bit pricier but works really well, and doesn't smell like sheep.
Me, to a group: hey it's like bitter cold and my skin's killing me, old lotion isn't cutting it
Group: try bag balm, it's amazing! Cheap! Farmers use it on their hands and put it on a cow's udders in cold weather! We swear by it!
Me: cool, I'll grab some!
Me, 2 days later:
I SMELL
LIKE FUCKING
SHEEP
Saving this for later! <33
Fic Recs (Harry Potter Editon III)
All fics are fem!reader
Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Four Five Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist
Why Didn’t We Work Out? by @astonishment
Pairing: James Potter x Reader Summary: “James Potter had two girlfriends in his seventh yeat at Hogwarts. Y/N Y/L/N, who he dated for five months; and Lily Evans, who he dated afterwards. When he’s dared to call one of his exes, guess who’s number he dials…”
Morning Coffee by @thewriterghost
Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Reader Summary: “You bring morning coffee to the boys.”
Not So Secret Admirer by @kquil (Part Two)
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: “you can't hide your adoration for remus lupin and often end up staring at him, good thing he thinks you're really cute”
With All Due Respect by @writesowhatnext
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: “Remus and the reader are best friends and that’s it and it’s so absurd that Remus keeps insisting that they’re anything more, right?”
Never His by @weasleykisses
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: “when James needs help asking out Lily, he enlists you to play his fake girlfriend to make her jealous. In the process, you end up making Remus Lupin green with envy.”
Dealbreaker by @luveline
Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader Summary: “you work in a bookstore. sirius keeps finding reasons to need books. ”
Pretty Boy by @alwaysmoncheri
Pairing: James Potter x Reader Summary: “you think james is really pretty—unfortunately for you, sirius notices and decides to take matters into his own hands”
Dizzy by @moonstruckme
Pairing: Roommate!James Potter x Reader Summary: “when your roommate James comes home after a night out with his friends, he's acting even more affectionate than usual”
Coach P. by @soupandsimple
Pairing: Coach!James Potter x Teacher!Reader Summary: “gym coach James being called out by a student for often visiting you during their art class”
Flirtation by @moonstruckme
Pairing: Sirius Black x Shy!Reader Summary: “when Sirius won't stop tormenting you with pet names, you think to take revenge, but he doesn't react as you expected”
i watched one (1) video on how to draw hands that changed my life forever. like. i can suddenly draw hands again
these were all drawn without reference btw. i can just. Understand Hands now (for the most part, im sure theres definitely inaccuracies). im a little baffled
This is super interesting, I never thought about the way etiquette changes depending on past or current situations in certain regions.
Natalie Portman being confused by the fact that you have to say “hi” to someone before starting a conversation in France got me like ?????
This is one of my favorite fics so far! I love the way you've written Matt as well, I think it's very accurate, and sweet! Billy needs to get his crap together, cause making Reader miserable isn't helping anyone.
(Once Bitten) Twice Shy
Chapter Fourteen
Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Slight smuttiness and angst that might make you scream. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.
Word Count : 5.4k
A/N : I'm dialling the angst up to 11...
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MASTER LIST
Chapter Fourteen
Everything changed.
It felt like it had when you’d first taken the job, like you were alone in the penthouse with no idea of where Billy was or if he’d even come home the night before. The only indicator was the blood you left for him; if it was gone, that meant he was home but some days it would collect until there were three or four days worth waiting for him.
Those days were the worst.
You hated not knowing where he was or if he was drinking someone else’s blood, wondering if you weren’t enough for him anymore, if your blood wasn’t enough. If he stopped taking your blood, you knew you’d have no purpose there.
Day after day, your thoughts spiralled, and you hated yourself for how much of your time was spent thinking about him.
Despite her promises, Karen hadn’t been to see you. Instead, when Thursday had rolled around you’d been greeted by a note from Billy, lacking all the charm and feeling of his previous notes.
Karen asked me to let you know that she can’t see you today because of work.
B.
The next week there was a similar note. It made sense, you supposed; she’d missed work to look after you for a week, she probably had to make up for lost time. Or, maybe she just didn’t want to see you again. You wouldn’t have blamed her, not when you’d caused so much chaos in the lives of her and those around her. Either way, it meant you were stuck in the penthouse. Alone.
It wasn’t long before you fell back into old habits, following a little routine every day to try and keep yourself from losing your mind; exercise in the morning, followed by a shower, preparing and cooking dinner, and some reading and baking in between.
You still sat out in the penthouse during the day, in your favourite spot on the sofa, alternating between taking in the view and reading, but you didn’t dare linger until sunset anymore.
Every few minutes you found yourself looking at your watch, knowing exactly when to head to your room, knowing with almost pinpoint precision how to avoid him. By day the penthouse was yours and, once late afternoon started to give way to evening, it was Billy’s. As it always should have been. As per your contract.
So, when he chose to slip out of his room far earlier than expected, you weren’t sure whether to be shocked or annoyed.
It was the first time you’d seen him since he’d tried to pay you to leave, and being near him again was enough to remind you that that wound still hadn’t started to heal. You tried not to watch as he made his way to the kitchen.
For a moment you waited, expecting him to do whatever he was doing and then return to his room. Only he didn’t and that prompted you to start moving.
“What are you reading now?” He dared to ask, watching you as you closed your book and started to gather up your things.
The question caught you off-guard, it made you think of how things had been only a few short weeks before, it reminded you of all the times you’d sat and discussed literature, the way he’d always wanted to know your thoughts and feelings on whatever you were reading.
But things weren’t like that anymore, and the question felt weighted, like he was trying to draw you back in, even though he’d been the one to try and send you away.
“The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde,” you answered, your words coming out sharper than intended, making it sound almost like an insult. And, a moment after you said it you realised how it might seem to him, how he might draw parallels between the book and his own situation.
Billy didn’t respond straight away and you took it as your cue to leave, tucking the book and the pack of Oreos under your bad arm. You heard him sigh as you turned away but didn’t think to look back.
“Hummingbird,” he called after you and, then, your name when that didn’t work, a hint of desperation in his tone.
It made your heart ache.
You kept walking, speeding up, wanting to reach your room and close the door on this uncomfortable experience. But Billy didn’t want to give you that.
Your breath caught and you flinched as his hand wrapped around your wrist, reminding you of the night he’d lost control. Billy noticed your panic immediately and let go of you before taking a step back, giving you a little bit of space but nowhere near what you wanted. It took a moment before you could bring yourself to turn and look at him and, when you did, you found that you hated the look of anguish on his face.
“What do you want, Billy?” You asked, barely holding back a sigh.
“This is unbearable,” he told you.
It was. Everything about the last couple of weeks had been so much worse than you ever could have imagined when you first decided that you were going to stay against his wishes.
You quickly found that you couldn’t look at him, that you didn’t want to see the torrent of emotions from behind his dark eyes.
“This is what you wanted,” you muttered.
“I didn’t want this.”
“No, that’s right, you wanted me gone completely,” you said, your voice betraying the pain you still felt at that fact.
The last thing you expected was for him to take your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. Seconds ticked by and he just stared, his gaze seeming to look right through you. His head shook.
“That’s not what I wanted,” he replied softly.
When you tried to look away, his hold remained firm.
“You didn’t want me anymore,” you told him. “You tried to send me away.”
“You think I don’t want you?”
“Of course you don’t.”
His head shook again and, before you realised what he was doing, he’d closed the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. He stepped closer, trying to eliminate the space between you, causing you to step back. Billy didn’t let you pull away from him, continuing to kiss you until you felt the door at your back.
“Billy -” you managed to pull your lips from his for a moment, but anything that followed was quickly muffled by another kiss.
It was easy to surrender to it. Far easier than you would have liked. For a moment you kissed him back, feeling his hand drop from your cheek to your neck, fingers over your racing pulse. He pressed closer, filling you with a longing that you’d been trying so hard to forget. Your lips parted, allowing him to deepen the kiss, allowing him to make you want.
You wanted to melt into him, to lose yourself in his embrace, in his kiss. In him.
For a few wonderful seconds, you forgot everything that wasn’t him, allowing yourself to believe that the moment would continue to escalate. Your thighs clenched at the familiar press of his erection against your hip, and you let your hand grip his shirt at his waist, not wanting it to end.
For a moment you felt wanted again, like you could really belong here, in his life. For a moment it almost felt real.
But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Not now, not after everything that had happened.
Reluctantly, you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him back. Billy choked back a desperate noise, giving you only a fraction of the space you wanted. His hand remained on your neck, fingers curled against skin, as if wanted to hold onto you in any way that he could.
You watched as his tongue ran over his lower lip as he struggled to find the words.
“Please,” he muttered softly, his voice causing your stomach to knot, “let me...”
He leaned in again and you allowed his lips to ghost yours before turning your head. The shuddered sigh that left him was almost enough to break your heart completely. As much as you wanted to be strong, you wanted to give in just as much. You wanted to close your eyes and let him kiss you, you wanted to pretend that the last few weeks hadn’t happened.
His hands pulled away from you, though not by much. He placed each on the door on either side of your head, keeping you boxed in as he lowered his head in shame.
“I just...” He started and stopped just as quickly.
You weren’t sure you even wanted to know what he wanted to say or how he was feeling. It felt like too much to bear, like you couldn’t carry the weight of your own emotions along with his.
It took a few seconds for you to realise that your hand was still pressed against his chest, over a heart that barely gave a beat.
Finally you shook your head.
“This isn’t fair,” you muttered.
Billy finally dared to look up, the flicker of hope on his face quickly extinguished when his gaze met yours. You didn’t dare ask what he thought you’d meant by the comment but it was clear he now understood what you really meant; he wasn’t being fair.
“I can’t do this again,” you confessed, your voice little more than a whisper, and almost immediately regretted the words when you felt him tense beneath your hand. “It hurts too much when it doesn’t mean anything to you.”
“Don’t say that,” he said as his chest lurched. “Of course it means something.”
“It means something now, because you want something now,” you said, trying so hard not to break down completely. “What about tomorrow, or next week, or the next time something bad happens? The next time you decide it’s better for me to not be here anymore?”
The change in him was visceral, his hands finally pulling away from the wall, the corner of his lips curling. When he pulled back, he stood at full height, making you feel impossibly small, practically looking down his nose at you. Gone was the pleading look of desperation and the flashes of shame, leaving a nothingness on his face as he looked at you a moment longer.
It was as if a mask had dropped and you were finally seeing him for the first time. Your hand dropped lifelessly to your side and you bristled, holding your breath and ready to move at a moment's notice.
But nothing happened.
“Fine,” was all he said before pulling away from you and heading towards the elevator.
You remained pressed back against the door, barely daring to draw breath as he left, running away instead of daring to admit that you were right. Even though you knew it was for the best and that you’d done the right thing, there was a pang of regret deep in your gut and a feeling of inconsolable loneliness that you weren’t sure you could handle.
The next few days, you watched as the blood in the fridge started to pile up, and there was no sign of him in the penthouse. Another Thursday came and, this time, there wasn’t even a note to tell you Karen wasn’t coming. You waited, daring to hope, but by mid afternoon you’d given up on ever seeing her again.
Another week passed and you continued on, refusing to give in and give him what he wanted. You kept drawing blood and leaving it for him, content to fill the whole damned fridge just to prove a point. You weren’t going to stop doing your job just because he’d rejected you. It became something of a passive aggressive statement, making sure you wrote the date on the jar in big, bold numbers, even going as far as to start doodling little smiley faces on them.
You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, to wonder where he was or what he was doing for blood. The thought of him having someone else’s blood still turned your stomach and caused a jealousy inside you that you couldn’t quite temper.
But, when your period hit, you found you couldn’t help but miss him. You missed his notes, his little gifts, and the way he’d always be waiting for you. Now you were alone, with nothing but the stupid bear and stuffed beagle for company. It didn’t stop you from drawing blood, didn’t stop you from doing your job, but it was definitely the closest you got to quitting.
Somehow, you made it through, refusing to feel anything when there were thirteen jars of blood in the fridge. It was just your job to provide blood, you told yourself, if Billy chose to waste it, that was on him.
The only problem, you realised, was the cast on your arm; it had been about six weeks, and you hadn’t seen a doctor since. You knew that, eventually, you’d have to use the intercom and ask Lissa about it if Billy didn’t return, otherwise you could be stuck in the cast for the rest of your year there.
At around ten on Friday evening, you finally heard the sound of the elevator and movement in the penthouse.
You pressed your ear to the door separating your rooms from the penthouse, trying to build up the courage to face him, practising what you were going to say while your hand gripped the door handle. But, then you heard something else; a laugh. A woman’s laugh. Your heart sank at all the possibilities, a thousand terrible scenarios playing out in your head.
Wasn’t this what you wanted? For Billy to give up on you and move on?
Yes.
No.
Your chest tightened and it got harder to breathe, your stomach threatening to turn itself inside out. You loved him, but he didn’t love you. That had been painfully clear for weeks now.
He’d found someone else and he’d brought her home. You didn’t know whether to be jealous or worried about what might happen. Would he fuck her? Would he hurt her?
There was only a slight sense of relief when, about twenty minutes later, you heard the elevator again and more voices. Music started playing, like there was a party going on out there - a party that you weren’t invited to.
You moved back to your room, settling on talking to Lissa about your arm and your need to see a doctor, resigning yourself to avoiding Billy for the foreseeable future. You got comfortable and tried to ignore the noise from the party that only seemed to be getting louder and louder as the minute passed.
Less than an hour later, a knock on your door startled you, and you were slow to go and see who it was. Your mind racing over what you might do if it was Billy standing out there, what you might say to him.
“Hey, there you are,” Karen smiled at you, “we were looking for you.”
Matt was at her side, his arm looped with hers, smiling.
“What?” You answered, obviously confused.
“At the party. We were looking for you,” Karen stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why are you hiding in here? Aren’t you feeling well?”
“No, that’s not -” you shook your head, more confused than ever, “- I wasn’t invited.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she told you, not giving you a chance to protest as she grabbed your arm and started to pull you out of your room. “Of course you’re invited.”
“She dragged me here too,” Matt said, barely holding back a smirk. “It’s best not to fight it when she gets like this.”
“No, wait, you don’t understand -” you protested, voice threatening to break.
They both stopped, attention fully on you. For a moment you felt like you might burst into tears. It was overwhelming. You felt suffocated by the situation.
There were so many things you wanted to say, so many thoughts and feelings that had been bottled up inside you over the last few weeks, but when your mouth opened, all you were able to say was; “he doesn’t want me out there.”
“Yeah, well, fuck what Billy wants,” Karen said. “If he has anything to say about it, he can say it to me.”
You relented realising it was futile when she started to pull on you again, leading you out into the penthouse.
The party wasn’t quite what you expected. There was none of the style and propriety of his vampire night party and, instead, it looked more like you’d wandered into a frat party. You glanced around uncomfortably, easily finding Billy in the kitchen with two beautiful women hanging off him and a third looking at him like he was the only other person in the room.
It took a moment or two, but he eventually looked your way. You held his gaze for a split second before his attention returned to his guests, as if you didn’t even exist. As if you didn’t matter. And Karen didn’t miss the exchange.
“Okay, what’s going on?” She asked, finally seeming to understand that something was seriously amiss.
You glanced at Matt who seemed just as interested to hear your answer, even though he didn’t really know all of the details like Karen did. Your cheeks warmed and your gaze dropped.
“It’s nothing. It’s stupid,” you answered with a forced shrug. “We had an argument a couple of weeks ago and I haven’t really seen him since.”
“He’s been avoiding you?” Matt offered.
“He hasn’t even been here,” you answered.
“Wait, what?” Suddenly it was Karen’s turn to act surprised. “If he hasn’t been here, how did he know you were still sick?”
“What? Still sick? I haven’t been sick...”
Karen looked like she’d been hit by a sudden realisation, the smile dropping from her face completely.
“That son of a bitch...”
Before you could even ask, Karen had let go of your arm and had started striding across the penthouse towards Billy, looking angrier than you’d ever seen her.
“I wouldn’t want to be Russo right now,” Matt muttered under his breath.
“I don’t understand. What’s going on?”
“He told Karen that you were sick from the stress of everything that’s happened lately, and that the doctor had recommended complete bed rest,” Matt explained. “We were all kinda worried, so when Karen heard he was throwing a party, she thought that meant you were finally feeling better.”
An awkward sound managed to claw its way from you, something so painful that it almost sounded like a sob. He’d deliberately lied to you. Again. He’d gone out of his way to isolate you, and left you feeling unwanted and alone.
When you took a step back, set on returning to your room, Matt’s hand took yours. “Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
“He made me think no one wanted to see me...” you muttered in little more than a whisper, not expecting Matt to even hear it over the loud music.
You watched from across the room as Karen stopped in front of Billy, quickly clearing away the women who’d been hanging on his every word. He looked annoyed, then just as angry as Karen. Her finger was jabbing at his chest and your heart nearly stopped when Billy took hold of her wrist to force away her hand. There was no telling where Frank had come from, but the moment Billy laid a hand on Karen, he was at her side making sure Billy didn’t repeat the mistake.
And, while you couldn’t hear what was being said, it was very clear that Karen was explaining what Billy had done to you when all eyes looked your way.
You took another step back and felt Matt’s hand squeeze yours, trying to reassure you.
“I should go, I should -”
“You have every right to be here,” he told you, “he has no right to keep you prisoner.”
It didn’t strike you until Matt said it that that was precisely what Billy had been doing. You’d been willing to agree to the idea of not going out alone, but by stopping anyone from taking you out, he was effectively making you a captive.
Billy’s gaze burned into you for a few moments before returning to Frank and Karen, obviously trying to respond and defend himself from whatever criticisms they were levelling at him.
“I need a drink,” you decided, moving towards the library and pulling Matt along with you.
Billy had a small liquor cabinet in there, no doubt for the rare occasion he worked from home and made use of the desk in the library. You picked the bottle that looked the most expensive, and the most full, before grabbing two glasses, filling one for Matt and then filling one for yourself. He took a drink the moment he had his glass and then let out a huff of laughter.
“I always suspected he was hiding the good stuff.”
His little joke almost managed to bring a smile to your lips.
Ordinarily you didn’t drink whiskey. Growing up it had been classified as a man’s drink, and it wasn’t proper for you to drink it. The moment you took your first sip and felt it burn down the back of your throat, you found yourself almost believing it.
“Oh god,” you muttered, “that’s awful.”
Matt laughed fondly before taking another drink, seemingly unaffected by the burn.
“You get used to it,” he shrugged.
“I’m not sure I want to.” Though that didn’t stop you from taking another large gulp from the glass, coughing as it set your throat ablaze.
Matt was quiet for a few moments before he finally asked; “do you want to talk about it?”
You shook your head and didn’t say a word.
“Did you shake your head?” He asked a few seconds later, and you realised your mistake.
“Oh, Matt, I’m so sorry,” you said, feeling your cheeks start to burn.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he told you, still smiling at you, like he was glad to just be around you. “I think it might help, though - talking about it, I mean. I think you’ve been in here on your own so long that maybe an outside perspective might help you figure things out.”
There was nothing forceful about his comment, nothing that seemed to suggest he’d keep pushing if you said no. And, after a moment of thought, you wondered if maybe he was right.
So, you started to explain.
You used broad strokes, not giving away any part of things that weren’t yours to tell; you told him how alone you’d felt when you’d first arrived, how you and Billy had bonded over literature, and how spending time together had developed into something more physical. You made sure to tell him that you’d always consented, that you’d wanted it and had even agreed to it being something purely physical. Leaving out mentions of his illness and times he’d lost control.
Once you were done, Matt was silent, thoughtfully sipping his drink.
“You fell for him,” he stated softly, and you didn’t have it in you to argue.
“We agreed it wouldn’t be like that,” you sighed. “He doesn’t know, I didn’t tell him. He doesn’t want me here anymore.”
Again, there was silence. You drained your glass and quickly refilled it, before topping up Matt’s glass for him.
“It’s not your fault, you know?” He offered. “Billy keeping you here, keeping you isolated - that’s on him. Especially since he already knows how it affects you.”
“He’s trying to make me quit...”
“Maybe it’s worth considering,” Matt said, shrugging. “Do you really want to keep doing this? Letting him play these mind games with you?”
“It’s... complicated,” you sighed, knowing better than to tell a lawyer about your predicament. “Anyway, it’s not like he could do anything worse...”
“That’s a terrible way of looking at things,” he said with a hint of a smile on his lips that almost had you laughing.
He was right, of course, but the ridiculousness of it all made it funny in an awful sort of way.
Grabbing the bottle again, you decided to take hold of Matt again, telling him that you were going to find Karen and have your own party in your room with Billy’s expensive whiskey, and seemed more than willing to oblige.
You took a deep breath before stepping out into the party. More people had arrived in the half an hour or so you’d been in the library with Matt, and the party seemed to be in full swing. Looking around, you tried to stop Karen, instead finding Billy, surrounded again by his trio of beautiful women.
As they spoke, one leaned into him, pressing her lip to his, and you felt your heart shatter in your chest.
“What’s wrong?” Matt asked, feeling your arm involuntarily tighten around his.
“Nothing,” you muttered, your eyes fixed on Billy and the woman kissing him, watching her fingers running through his hair and -
The kiss broke and Billy looked your way, an indiscernible look on his face, and you felt sick.
“Come on,” you told Matt, starting to lead him towards your rooms. “Karen can come find us.”
Matt agreed and you quickly pulled him through the door and closed it behind you, not daring to look back at Billy again.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked once you were both settled on the sofa in your room.
“I’ll be fine,” you lied, betrayed by your own voice.
You knocked back another drink before refilling both of your glasses, content to sit silently. Matt didn’t try to push for conversation. He was just there. Silently supportive while you tried to rationalise what you’d seen.
Billy wasn’t yours. He didn’t want you. It shouldn’t have mattered that he was kissing someone else. But it did, it hurt so fucking much.
Soon enough your glass was empty again and you could feel the effect of the alcohol. It didn’t numb the pain like you’d hoped, in fact, it seemed to be making it worse. But that didn’t stop you from pouring yourself another.
“Maybe you should slow down,” Matt offered gently, placing his hand on your arm.
“Why did you ask me to go to dinner with you?” You asked abruptly, ignoring his suggestion.
“What?”
“The night we met, you asked me to go to dinner with you... or for coffee...”
He’d been so kind that night, keeping you company and making sure you felt included, and you - you’d be so caught up on thoughts of Billy that you’d barely noticed. Matt was alway so kind, so attentive, and all you did was think about Billy when you were around him.
“Because I wanted to take you out,” he shrugged.
“On a date?”
“Well, yeah -”
Before he could finish, you let go of your last scrap of common sense and leaned towards him, surprising him with a kiss. Despite being stunned for a moment, Matt didn’t push you away, instead he indulged the moment, letting you deepen the kiss. You quickly lost yourself to it, trying to hide from your pain by pressing yourself closer to him.
“Are you sure you want -” he said against your lips, only to be cut off by another kiss. And it seemed to be all the answer he needed.
You weren’t sure who moved first, but you soon found yourself on your back with Matt on top of you. Your hands slipped beneath his shirt, fingers finding taut muscles as you pulled him closer.
He didn’t kiss like Billy and, when his hands started to explore the curves of your body, you realised that he didn’t touch like Billy either. He didn’t steal your breath away or make you feel like the world could end at any moment.
No matter what he did, or how you tried to lose yourself in the moment, Matt just wasn’t Billy.
Your hips moved, pressing up against his, moaning into the kiss when you felt his erection.
You weren’t being fair but you were too drunk and heartbroken to care. That is, until his hand slipped into your panties beneath your leggings. Your breath caught, threatening to choke you, but it wasn’t enough to make you stop, even though it was Billy’s fingers you were craving between your legs.
Matt wanted you. Billy didn’t. And that was all you wanted to think about.
You just wanted someone to want you.
His fingers circled your clit, drawing gasped breaths from you, while his other hand had slipped beneath your top to grope your breasts. Your body felt like it was on autopilot, responding because that was what it was supposed to do and not because it desperately needed his touch.
Pulling from the kiss, his lips moved to your neck, and even that made you think of Billy and the way his every touch seemed obsessed with any place he could feel your racing heart.
Your eyes closed tight, trying to think of all the reasons you should want this, why Matt was better for you than Billy, but you couldn’t. In theory, Matt was perfect and, more than that, Matt actually wanted you. But Billy, in all his fucked up glory, was the one you loved so desperately and painfully that you couldn’t even allow yourself to indulge in one moment of pleasure without him.
“What’s wrong?” Matt asked, no doubt noticing the sudden tension in your body.
“I -” you needed a second, suddenly feeling on the brink of tears at how awful you were being, “- I’m sorry, I-I can’t do this...”
Matt slowly pulled back, and you could feel the shame burning across your cheeks as you righted your clothes. You hated yourself, hated how disgusting the whole thing had made you feel; he’d been so nice and you’d taken advantage of him. You were no better than Billy.
“I’m sorry, I -”
“It’s okay,” he told you, sounding a little breathless but, surprisingly, not upset.
“I just -”
“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he said, “I get it, you’re going through a lot right now. We both just got caught up in the moment.”
“Why are you being so nice about this?” You asked in a choked up tone, struggling to keep your emotions in check.
“Because you’ve been through a lot lately and I know none of this has been easy for you.”
You didn’t know what you could say to that. There were no words to excuse what you’d done, but there was something you could say to at least explain it.
“He was kissing someone else.” The words tumbled out and, before you could stop yourself, the tears started to fall.
His arm pulled around you as you started to cry, hating yourself for being so weak, for still caring so much after everything Billy put you through. He muttered softly, trying to comfort you, but there was really nothing he could say or do to stop the tears once they started.
At some point Karen appeared, finding you drunk and sobbing in Matt’s arms, and decided to take control of the situation, ushering Matt from the room. She made sure to make you drink a glass of water before putting you to bed and trying to settle you. She sat on the edge of the bed, brushing your hair out of your face - an act that reminded you of your sister and the gaping hole that she had left in your life.
“You’re going to get through this,” she told you softly. “I promise I’m going to be around from now on. He’s not going to pull this shit again.”
As much as you wanted to believe her, you knew that Billy was going to keep trying to get you to leave. You just weren’t sure how much more you could take.
End Note : 😅 I promise that I have a plan, I just need you all to trust in the process. As always thank you so much for reading/commenting/liking/reblogging. Hope you all have a great weekend!!
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.
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@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad
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I read a lot of fanfiction.... 20 years old I don't know what I'm doing anymore
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