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stories-you-wont-hear · 4 years

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– four seasons. | frost

here’s part three, one more to go in this little mini-series. pls enjoy and leave me some love xoxo mira tag list: shameless-pope bellastellaluna the-scarletsandwich @its-my-little-dumpster-fire

“Love is in the air,” Lisa called from the backseat of the car, handing a slightly crumpled flier to you in the passenger seat. “And I’m sick of it,” Frank retorted, despite the handful of pink foil wrapped chocolates he had in his hand. “Says the idiot who got a billion secret valentines,” Lisa shot back. “She does have a point,” Maria chimed in from the driver’s seat as you examined the paper Lisa had given you. It was a flier for tonight’s Valentine’s Day dance, despite the actual holiday being on Sunday. “You going, Lisa?” you asked, catching her gaze in the rearview mirror.

She gave you an indifferent shrug, but something about the way Frank nudged her made you think she felt anything but indifferent about it. “She doesn’t want to go because no one asked her,” he said nonchalantly, to which Lisa stared at him, mouth gaping. “Hey!” Maria cried out, pulling to a stop at a red light, “You don’t need anyone to take you, Lis.” “I know!” Lisa grumbled back.

“Then why don’t you wanna go?” you asked, your tone a lot softer than Maria’s. “Amanda got a new boyfriend,” Lisa explained, referencing her best friend of three years, “And that’s the only thing she cares about now. I don’t want to go just to be a third wheel.” You cast a careful look over to Maria, who met your own concerned gaze with one of her own. “That’s a tough situation,” Maria agreed after a moment.

“So what?” Frank Jr. said, finally getting back into the conversation, “Aunt Y/N third wheels all the time.” “Hey!” Maria called out, giving her son a Look from the rearview. “She does!” he muttered under his breath, to which you sighed. There was truth in Frank Jr.’s words, if anything, you fifth wheeled the entire Castle family.

“Honestly, it’s not that bad,” you said to Lisa, turning your head to face her in the backseat, “And it’s worth putting up with a lame-o guy if it means sticking with your friend.” “Dad’s not lame,” Lisa replied back, unable to hold the smile back from her face. “You get what I’m saying,” you said, your smile mirroring Lisa’s.

She gave a dramatic sigh and replied with another shrug of her shoulders, “I guess I’ll go.” “Atta girl,” Maria replied, giving you a smile.

“What’s been up with you and Bill?” Maria questioned over the quiet murmurings of the TV. The two of you had spent the last hour or so dressing Lisa up and sending her off to her school dance with the promise that a friend’s mom would drop her off after the event was over. Frank Jr. had no intentions of being caught up in your ensuing wine night and had scurried over to a nearby friend’s house before you had left to drop Lisa off. That left you, Maria, and a bottle of wine. You sighed into your glass of white wine, recalling the past few weeks of tepid exchange between you and Billy and the cusp at which you two had been on before everything seemed to change.

The weeks of holiday prep at your office had you wrapped up in end of year business as well as a flurry of office events. Your video calls with Billy became scarce in those few weeks, but you sent him prompt replies to his emails. You filled them with details of work, the time you spent with Maria and the kids, and other things he seemed to crave knowing, normal things.

It was about two weeks after New Year’s Day and you were in the middle of a rare video call with Billy, in the middle of talking about a funny office incident that had occurred the day before when Billy interrupted you. “Did it snow?” he asked, the tone in his voice making you a little uneasy. Billy often sat attentive as you talked and talked, that’s the way he liked it from what you had judged. “Yeah…” you replied slowly, turning your laptop so that he could see at the frosted window past you.

“Sorry,” he muttered, his hand moving up to touch his brow bone, “You were saying something…” “Billy,” you said, unsure of what had just happened. “Are you okay?” you asked, despite knowing he hated that question. “I’m fine,” he replied, his hand still tapping his brow. “Okay,” you breathed, doubt sitting in the back of your mind.

You went on with your story, not knowing if he detected the lack of enthusiasm that you had previously. You said your goodbyes soon after that, the blank screen leaving you alone in the quiet of the early morning. Sitting in a sea of doubt, you went through the rest of your day quietly enough for it to be noticed by a few of your coworkers. You assured them it was nothing, but it sure as hell didn’t feel like nothing.

“I thought it was going good,” you said, more as a question than a statement. Maria nodded softly, quietly urging you to continue without interrupting. “He just seemed to pull back out of nowhere,” you said, pausing to take a long sip of wine. “Frank does that too,” Maria commented, and this time, you looked towards her with quiet patience. “He pulls back, he doesn’t want what happens there to touch us, the kids, me.” You sighed, feeling a bit at ease upon hearing a possible explanation for Billy’s behavior. “It’s not something that’s easy to understand, and not everybody is cut out for it,” she continued. Something about her words prickled you, not so much what she said but the way she was looking at you now, eyeing you like she was sizing you up.

“I know that,” you said with a little more fire than you meant. “I’m just looking out for you,” Maria assured, “The both of you.” You nodded, putting your figurative fighting hands down, “I know, I know.” “It’s hard,” she continued, moving her hand to rest on yours to squeeze it in comfort. “It’s really hard,” you agreed, pouting a bit.

“But you’re strong,” Maria assured you, “And you have an incredible friend backing you up.” You giggled, a probable byproduct of the wine you had been drinking, “A beautiful friend.” “Well,” Maria said with an over dramatized roll of her eyes, “If you say so.”

Hours later, you were in the back of an Uber, a smart decision because you were a smart person, on your way home. In your still slightly tipsy stupor, and without the responsibility of driving, you opened up your last e-mail correspondence with Billy, to which he hadn’t replied yet. You had remained decent enough not to double e-mail him as not to seem obsessive but as you sat in the back of a Honda Civic, you thought to yourself fuck the rules.

“Right on, sister,” your Uber driver agreed, making you realize you had said your thoughts out loud. You smiled sheepishly, but sat up to construct an e-mail to express your thoughts to a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend.

Hey. Billy.

It’s me. how are you doing. I miss you a lot. And it’s so stippid how you keep tryibg to push me away. I hate it, I hatee iyou. I hate beeing away from you. Or you being away fromme. Come back. I’ll give you a millio n bucks. Stop being a jerk. I lik eyou lots.

Love Y/N

The Uber driver pulled up near your apartment building just as you had pressed send on your spelling riddled e-mail. After assuring the kind lady that you could get into your apartment alone and paying a small fortune with a good tip, you bid her good night as you left the car. Taking a minute to adjust your footing in the frosty snow lining the sidewalk, you told yourself you’d hopefully make it alive to your apartment if you just took it… one step… at a time.

Your breath turned into little puffs of clouds as you walked towards your building, carefully placing one foot in front of the other. Despite the wine dampening your cat-like reflexes, you still caught a shadowy figure up the steps in front of your apartment building and you immediately were put on guard. “I have a knife and I know how to use it,” you called out, reaching into your bag for anything sharp. The man stepped into the soft light cast by the porch light, pulling his hood away from his face.

“Hey,” he called, his cheeks thinned out from when you last saw him and hair shorter than when you had ran your fingers through it. “Billy,” you called, standing at the bottom of the short flight of steps dumbfounded. “Hey you,” he called again, leaving his duffel bag near the building door as he moved towards you.

Clarity had found you once more, even through your wine buzz, but you could not believe he was standing in front of you. You stepped back, wanting space to take it, to take him, all in but in the urgency of it, you slipped only to have Billy grab your arms, steadying you. “H-hey,” you called back, shakily. “Hi,” he said earnestly, “It’s the third time I’ve said that. We should probably move past that.” You laughed at his words, although he looked different and you still weren’t sure if he really was in front of you, any doubts you had for the past few weeks melted away.

“We should proba-,” you said, casting a gaze up at the dark sky, catching a glimpse of white. “Oh,” you said, caught off guard by the fresh snow falling. Billy laughed softly as snowflakes fell into your hair, brushing his fingers across your cheek to cup your face. “We should probably what?” he whispered as he drew his face down towards yours. “Get out of the cold?” you whispered back, making no movements to do so. “We should,” he agreed softly, closing the distance between you to press his lips against yours.

Frost continued to fall but you and Billy stood there under the soft light of the street lamp for a few more moments, just the two of you.

#stories-you-wont-hear #stories: four seasons #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fic #reader x billy russo #billy russo x y/n #y/n x billy russo

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stories-you-wont-hear · 5 years

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– precedence. pt 4

i’m HERE i swear, grad school applications kicked my ass and i kicked them right back so here’s part four of precedence in celebration of that fact! also @its-my-little-dumpster-fire updated let it burn and i love that story with a BURNING passion let me tell you it is a fantastic story and everyone needs to go read it and that is what pushed me to give y’all a good and long update. this is front heavy on the case and y/n but we also got some billy boy at the end, so please enjoy & leave me love in the form of comments xoxo mira

@shameless-pope @poindexted @bellastellaluna @the-scarletsandwich

__________________________

News of the prominent guest at the firm had made its way like a flash fire through the grapevine and you had known Cora Rothschild was in the building even before you saw her stepping off the elevator with a posse you could only assume was her hired entourage. They parked themselves outside of the biggest name partners door, and soon after that, you spotted Malcolm Randall and Eva make their way into the office. Monty, who had been training to be Wesley’s lapdog extra hard since you had become Eva’s, was hovering by the reception desk, surely hoping that Wesley would call him and he’d knock the socks off of Cora Rothschild.

You had been in the middle of examining the buzzing noises your phone was making when Clara called for you from across her desk. “Yeah?” you said absentmindedly, reading quickly through the notifications that had popped up. Billy.

B. Russo: How’s your day going?

The simple question had you frazzled. Billy never texted you during the workday. As friendly as the two of you got, he wasn’t the texting type and certainly not this casually and not in the middle of the workday. “Sweetie, they want you in the room,” Clara called. Monty’s ears must have a range of a billion feet because his expression of confusion mirrored your own. “Huh?” you said stupidly. “Now,” Clara urged as nicely as she could. If you had stood up any faster, you might have gotten whiplash, but luckily, you had enough of a brain to remember to take in a notepad and pen, something Eva had pointed out always to do in a meeting early on in your mentorship.

You adjusted your posture and remembered to knock on the door, quietly slipping inside when Wesley gestured for you to come in. No introductions were made, and none were certainly needed for the people in the room.

This had to be some kind of dream. Not a nightmare, and certainly not the kind of dreams Billy Russo had been featuring in lately, but just a strange dream. It was painfully clear that you were the least qualified person in the room, amidst the entire name partner team of Wesley King Randall and quite possibly the richest woman on the island of Manhattan.

Cora Rothschild carried herself exactly how you would think a rich older woman would, her clothes tailored to fit her, hair and makeup impeccable. Hell, she even smelled expensive. Eva was leaning against the desk Richard Wesley was sitting in, far from the usual power move you would have pegged her for but Wesley had insisted the meeting be in his office. Though Cora held power few would ever dream of possessing, she held fast to the traditions she had grown up with. Her fortune came to her despite having two older brothers, after their untimely deaths, there were no other male heirs close enough to the family for her father to bequeath the fortune to. You’d hardly call her a feminist, but you often heard the talking point of her late husband taking on the Rothschild name instead of her taking his. Money weighed over tradition, you supposed.

Her son was to continue the Rothschild legacy, but his and his wife’s death left it in the hands of their young daughter who Cora had taken under her care. Mia was notedly not in the room, though the topic you soon discovered after being brought into the meeting was about Cora’s inheritance.

“Dicky tells me that you’ve got a way with the law, young lady?” Cora said, turning her gaze to you. Keep it together, Y/N you reassured yourself, not wanting to laugh from her reference of the very figure who terrified you since the first day of work as Dicky. “We’re here to provide the best service for your legal needs, Ms. Rothschild,” you said evenly, your gaze trained on her. “Humility is a good virtue for a woman to have,” Cora replied back with a slight nod of approval. Your gaze caught Eva’s from behind Cora, and her eyes rolled so hard you were sure Cora would’ve heard it if Wesley wasn’t busy talking up your legal skills.

Even if he was playing it up and probably didn’t even know your first name, it felt a bit good to be praised by a name partner. “Cora has been a close friend of Wesley King Randall,” Wesley explained, “And now she has entrusted us to draw out her will, which I’m sure won’t be executed for many more years.” The man could really lay it on when he wanted to.

“Don’t flatter me,” Cora replied back knowingly, “You’ve already got my money.” “She wants to know more about conditions in her will,” Eva piped up, drawing Cora’s attention to her. Though Eva was the first to give any solid information about what this meeting was about, Cora seemed to brush her off any time she offered up anything. “Why don’t you send out for some tea, darling?” she said to Eva. You swore you saw a vein almost pop in her forehead, but Eva kept her mouth shut and went to the door to call for someone while Cora turned back to you.

“You must know of the Rothschild legacy,” she explained, looking at you, “And I want to make sure it is protected in the generations to come. My darling granddaughter, my Mia, I have raised her the best I could, but I have to think of her future. Our status, our pedigree if you will, must be carried on, and I want to ensure that the fortune that upholds our family is safe.”

You suddenly remembered Billy’s words from the other day. He had such conviction about fitting into the mold he clawed his way up in the world to buy. Pedigree, Cora had said. A part of you felt dirty for thinking about how that word applied to humans. “Well,” you started slowly, your eye catching Eva’s gaze as she led one of the secretaries into the room with a cart of tea.

“Thank you, dear,” Cora said as the young woman set down a cup of tea on a coaster by her, before turning back her full attention to you. You swallowed before starting again, recalling some reading you had done for fun in law school about crazy conditions people had set up in their wills and trusts and the ensuing legal drama after it. “Dead hand control is an option,” you started, Eva, the partner most knowledgeable about property law nodding along, “Meaning, Mia would not be able to inherit if she didn’t meet those conditions.” “I like the sound of that,” Wesley chuckled, sipping lightly at his own cup of coffee.

“The dead hand part?” Eva called softly, to which Cora raised her eyebrows. “The control part,” she replied back firmly, “I don’t intend to let dying interfere with my family’s good name.” You were a little taken aback with the gravity of what Cora had just said, but reminded yourself that she was a client and you had a duty to the firm to provide her with sound legal advice.

“Exactly that,” you agreed, “You can set certain conditions to ensure that Mia would follow that path, unless…” “Unless?” Randall, the quietest of the partners cut in. “Unless she didn’t take the inheritance,” Eva supplied, her own cup of tea untouched on the desk. You knew she didn’t like the drink, nor did she like coffee, no, Eva King ran purely on her own sheer will. “Which she would,” Cora replied airily, “She’s been living a certain lifestyle for her entire life.” Yeah, you remarked mentally, who’s gonna work for a living? “What sort of conditions could I set?” Cora said, her gaze on you so intense that you swore you started spontaneously sweating.

“Well, to maintain the, well, Rothschild legacy,” you started, wondering what exactly this woman had in mind, “You can’t dictate certain things about a future spouse.” “As I’d imagine in this day and age,” she commented. No one else in the room said anything, but from the look Eva had on her face, your suspicion that that comment was nothing good was confirmed. “There’s also a rule against perpetuities, meaning when you execute the will, the conditions of it cannot extend past 21 years from them on Mia’s life. You can set a deadline for her to be married,” you offered.

She nodded, her hands placed perfectly in her lap as she looked you over. You felt yourself adjust your posture, feeling a bit self-conscious. “You can require her to maintain the family name,” you continued, to which the old woman’s face lit up. “Yes, I quite like that,” she said, turned to Wesley, “Write that down, Dicky. I want that.” Wesley murmured in agreement, quickly jotting it down on his own notepad. Usually, you felt pretty good about finding things to satisfy your clients' legal needs, but there was something about this whole situation that made you feel kind of icky.

You weren’t sure if it was physically sickness or just an impending headache, but something did not feel right in the room. However, it’d be horribly unprofessional of you to just run out of the room and Eva, for all she was worth, would probably kick you into the moon if you did. Although she was uncharacteristically quiet during this meeting, a nod of approval here and there assured you that you were doing fine, and despite it all, you were a representation of her and you were doing just fine.

“How about restrictions on children before marriage?” Cora asked bluntly, catching you off guard. “Yes,” you replied back hesitantly. “Money turns good men into monsters,” she explained, sounding as cliche as the adage was, “The last thing I would want is for some street dog getting my Mia with child just so he could get his grubby hands on some money, write that down, Dicky.” Though you nodded, your feeling of discomfort grew, and you hoped no one in the room would catch your cheeks burning. Billy was right. Someone like Cora would never look twice at you, not from her air-conditioned town car. Her perfectly manicured hands sat gently in her lap, not knowing labor, and her face was set with expensive makeup, her eyes not knowing the toll of hours of studying your way through school.

“Thank you,” she said, once she had the information she wanted, “It’s wonderful to see ambition executed properly in a woman.” Whatever the hell that means, you thought, standing up to leave. “We’ll settle things here, Eva,” Wesley said, dismissing your mentor as you made your way out. You held the door open behind you for Eva, and she caught your arm just after the two of you left, pulling you into her office.

The meeting had gone into the evening, and only a few dedicated workers were left on this floor, namely Clara who never left before the name partners all did. “I keep the Scotch in that cabinet,” Eva said pointing at a cabinet by the bookshelf. Without another word, she sat down at her desk, turning her chair towards the window as you caught her cue and poured a single of the amber liquid.

“Thank you,” she said without turning around as you placed the cup by her. You stood by her desk for a few silent minutes as she continued to stare out the window, unsure whether she wanted to be alone or not. “Should I-” you started before she suddenly turned to take a smooth sip of her drink. “Or not,” you whispered, sitting down across from her desk.

She looked up at you, fingers wrapped around the glass as she gave you an expression you had never seen on her face before. “You’re a good kid,” she said, and you wondered if the hint of raspiness in her voice was what you thought it was. Her cheeks were dry, but she tilted her head up ever so slightly that you knew what she might have been feeling, the feeling akin to you getting your first law school rejection.

“Thank you,” you replied back plainly, wondering where exactly her mind was. Your phone buzzed again, and you set it on the desk, not wanting to take your attention away from your boss.

B. Russo: Busy day?

“I mean that you know,” she continued, taking another sip as her gaze turned to something behind you. You turned your head to catch the two male name partners walking out with Cora Rothschild and her little entourage, both Wesley and Randall with their coats on and that look when they were putting on with a client.

“And no matter what any man makes you feel you’re worth, you’re worth a lot more than that,” she said, finishing her drink with a flair as your phone buzzed again, the two previous unanswered texts still notifications on your screen.

B. Russo: Are you free tonight?

“Looks like someone wants your attention,” Eva said bitterly but with a smile, as she glanced at your screen. You made a mental note to change his name on your phone and quickly pulled it back in your pocket, to which Eva gave a hearty laugh. “Go on,” she said, waving her hand for you to go, “One of us should have some fun after that goddamn meeting.” Your hand wrapped around your phone, wanting badly to answer Billy’s text, but you were still unsure.

“I’m sorry the way that meeting happened,” you said, offering up a measly apology for something you had no bearing over. She gave you a wry smile, and at that moment, you wondered if one day, after selling your own soul, you’d be in Eva’s chair, smiling sadly at the next you. There was something profoundly lonely about that thought, and it pushed you to stand up and take your leave, but not without one final nod from Eva.

You finally replied to Billy once you had gotten on the subway, finding a moment of solace in the corner seat you had managed to get from leaving later than usual, fulfilling your earlier promise to yourself to change Billy’s name to something inconspicuous on your phone.

Y/N: Sorry, it was hectic as hell at work.

B: I figured. Can I help you unwind?

Your mind immediately dropped to the gutter, as it seemed to have a tendency to do with anything Billy related lately. You roped it out and managed to reply to his text minus the eggplant and peach emoji.

Y/N: You’re probably tired, don’t worry about it!

His reply came seconds later.

B: It’s no trouble for my girl.

Your heart soared, and you were sure this is how the female protagonist of a Nicholas Sparks’ novel must feel like.

B: I’ll meet you at your place.

The euphoria you felt cut off as you felt sudden panic, hoping you wore decent looking underwear this morning. You almost smacked yourself, once again roping your mind in from the gutter. This isn’t a booty call, you reminded yourself as you walked up the subway steps. Despite what you were telling yourself, you almost skipped the two blocks from the subway station to your building.

And thank god you hadn’t, because sitting on the steps of your building was Billy goddam Russo, looking as handsome as ever. Dressed down in a hoodie and jeans, leather jacket fitting over his shoulders like it was made for him, he was the stuff dreams were made of.

“Hey,” you called casually, unable to keep your lips from spreading into a smile. “Hey,” he called back, his smile albeit smaller than yours, was a smile for you.

You detailed him on the happenings of the day as you led him up to your apartment, thankful that you had taken the time to clean this past weekend as you opened the door to let him in before you. “She sounds awful,” Billy commented as you told him about how Cora had treated Eva, and Eva’s ensuing reaction, “And Eva is a tough as they come.” “I know!” you agreed, pulling up a food delivery app to satisfy your hunger from having missed lunch. “Pizza?” you asked, to which Billy nodded, pulling out two wine glasses from your cabinet for the bottle he had brought over.

“And can you believe she actually said she was afraid of a ‘street dog’ knocking up her precious little doll of a granddaughter?” you cried incredulously, taking the glass half full of wine Billy offered you. You led him into your living room area, wondering if you should grab the bottle before deciding against it. “I can believe it,” Billy replied, taking a seat a few feet away from you on your couch.

You sighed, taking another long sip of wine as you relaxed into the couch. The feeling of discomfort that had spread like a virus during that awful meeting had settled since setting your eyes on Billy, and you were glad to have his presence around you. “Can you though?” you sighed, raising your eyes pointedly at his casual, but still probably expensive clothes. “Y/N,” Billy replied back pointedly, “You live alone in Manhattan and you work at a private law firm.” “I know,” you whined, knowing full well that he had a point. “Besides, someone like Cora Rothschild would never see us as equals, no matter our bank balance. Money buys a lot, but she’s old money,” Billy went on, his eyes turned down and for a second, you wondered where his thoughts had turned to. You wrinkled your nose at his words, knowing what he meant. The way she treated Eva, and even Richard Wesley, after all, they had worked towards, they were still beneath her despite it all.

After that, you changed the topic but you still felt that you had lost Billy somewhere back in the things Cora had said until the doorbell ringing cut into your conversation. You went to get the pizza, receiving a big smile from the teenage deliveryman when you told him to keep the change. The smell of a pizza pie, well, there was nothing quite like it, and you headed to the kitchen to grab plates and to your surprise, found Billy there with both your wine glasses. “Wine goes with pizza, right?” he said with an easy laugh. “It’s just like how the Italians do it,” you agreed with a laugh, glad to have Billy with you fully. Setting the pie down, you observed Billy pouring the wine.

He had taken off his jacket and the sleeves of his hoodie were rolled up to show his forearms and what might forearms they were. He must have caught you in a daze, because after about a second, he was waving his hand at you, “Earth to Y/N?” You laughed sheepishly, not wanting to admit you were thinking of what those hands could do, shaking your head and brushing it off as stress from work. “They can’t be working my girl like this,” Billy said with a smile. There it was again. Those sparks in your chest. Possibly a work-stress related heart attack, but much more probably a Billy Russo related heart attack. You must have been staring again because though Billy’s lips were moving, you didn’t hear anything. And suddenly, they were on you. Caught by a welcome surprise, you leaned into the kiss, tasting the traces of wine on his lips as you leaned up to meet him.

“So that’s what gets your attention,” he murmured after pulling back, his hand on your waist and to your surprise, your own hands had found their way to his forearms. “Shut up,” you quipped back softly, your brain having short-circuited. “Will do,” he replied, his lips curling into a smile as he leaned back in, your back turned to lean against the counter as you trailed your hand up to his hair.

At some point, you had to pull back for some air and when you did, the look Billy was giving you was pure intensity. The thought of wine and pizza was long gone and you were craving something else entirely. “Bedroom?” you whispered, more from loss of breath than being coy. Billy nodded and that was all you needed to take him by the hand, leaving behind the thoughts of day as you let Billy take you to bed.

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hope you guys liked it! i’d love to know your thoughts on y/n’s moral dilemma, which (for those of you who have read it) we see fester in due process, and what could possibly lead to the nature of y/n and billy’s relationship in due process!

#stories-you-wont-hear #stories: precedence #billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fic

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stories-you-wont-hear · 5 years

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what was the point of having red skull reappear in endgame if he wasn’t gonna come face to face with steve, he’s literally one of the most well known captain america villains😭 and then the writers saying steve wouldn’t recognize him, bitch he literally has a red skull, what’s there not to recognize😭

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stories-you-wont-hear · 5 years

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– four seasons. | storm

hello friends! this is the second installment of the four seasons mini-series ft. billy russo. i really like y/n and maria’s friendship and tbh they end up getting more time together than the reader and billy but IT’S FINE BY ME! i love reading your comments on this, esp bc it’s pre-anvil billy who is a precious sweetheart.

pls enjoy, and as always, leave lots of love! xoxo mira

tag list: shameless-pope bellastellaluna the-scarletsandwich @its-my-little-dumpster-fire

“Mom!” Lisa bellowed, nearly knocking you out as she ran into the kitchen. “Daughter?” Maria called, not moving from her position as her child stood with her hands on her hips staring her down. “Frank keeps taking my headphones! Tell him to stop,” Lisa said, her anger apparent in her tone. “Frank. Stop.” Maria deadpanned, taking a sip from her cup of coffee. You couldn’t help but snort in response to Maria, and Lisa shot you a look of pure hatred for it.

“Mom!” Lisa cried again, this time dropping her arms as she whined. Maria sighed as she shook her head, “Look, you two need to learn how to sort this out amongst yourselves. I’m not a mediator.” “But you’re our mom,” Lisa exasperated. “And I certainly don’t get paid enough for it,” Maria shot back, her hands cupping her cup of coffee. You cut in, wanting to keep Maria’s stress to a minimum. It had been two months since Frank, and Billy, had left and Maria had been handling the kids on her own.

It was nothing she hadn’t done before, but you knew it was never easy. “Lisa,” you called, “Leave your poor mom alone. I’ll take you shopping on Black Friday for new ones.” Maria rolled her eyes behind Lisa, but the kid was satisfied. She left the kitchen with her mood having taken a complete 180. “I birthed them, feed them, keep a roof over their heads, but alas! It’s Aunt Y/N this, Aunt Y/N that,” Maria sighed. You laughed, your hands cupping your own cup of coffee as you looked over at your friend. “Hey, Black Friday shopping is pretty much the equivalent of going into a warzone,” you called back. Maria held a hand up in surrender, “Touche. I’d never do it.” You nodded, giving her a pointed look, “Yeah, you just shop on Monday from your computer like a coward.”

“Better a wise coward than a foolish knight,” Maria said pointedly, moving to wash out her empty cup in the sink. You stood to wash your own empty cup, handing it to Maria’s outstretched hand but made no movement back towards your seat. “So,” you said slowly, not wanting to let your true intentions out so quickly, “Any word lately from Frank?”

“Why do you ask?” Maria asked, her own voice mirroring your tone. An eyebrow raised, she glanced at you suspiciously. “Just wondering,” you said a little too quickly, “The holidays are coming up, I’m sure they’re missing home.”

“They’re?” Maria repeated, now fully looking at you. You felt yourself inched slowly away from Maria, who was now leaning against the counter, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at you through a narrowed gaze. “Frank and… Billy and the rest of the good people who risk their lives for the sak-” you blurt before Maria cut in. “You bitch!” she cried, her eyes wide as she caught Billy’s name. “Language!” Frank Jr.’s voice shouted from down the hall upon catching his mother’s curse.

Maria rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to you, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” You shrugged, playing it off like you didn’t know exactly what she was talking about. “Come on,” Maria said, looking at you expectantly. After a solid minute of silent back and forth, you finally sighed in defeat. “We kissed after the party you guys had over the summer,” you said in a low voice, not wanting Frank Jr. to overhear. “Oh my god,” Maria cried, throwing her hands up, “I know that!”

You scoffed, knowing Lisa probably spilled the beans the second she saw Billy’s lips brush over your cheek during that Sunday morning breakfast that seemed so long ago. “So then what?” you asked. “That’s what I’m trying to find out, Y/N!” Maria said.

“There’s really nothing to say other than that,” you explained, “It’s not like he asked me to see him off or write him long, sappy letters.” “Oh, but you should,” Maria said, suddenly moving to place her hands on your shoulders, “You so should.”

“Geez Maria,” you said as you placed your hands on top of hers, “I so should not be getting into whatever this is. It’s so hard for you and Frank and you guys are so… so solid! Me and Billy? We’re just a few weeks of kisses and back and forth flirting.”

“Y/N,” Maria started, her voice so firm that you probably would have agreed to almost anything she was about to say, “It’s hard. It’s so hard. It’s so unbelievably difficult. But it’s so worth it. Billy is worth it.” She turned squeezed your shoulders before sliding her hands from under your grip, the softness in her eyes so different from the firmness of her tone but that was Maria for you.

“Here,” she said, moving away from you to rummage through a kitchen drawer, “We’re going to send Frank a care package, and we always send Billy stuff, too. You should write him a letter.” “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you said nervously, placing one hand on the kitchen counter to steady yourself.

“I promise I won’t read it,” Maria said, holding up the sheets of notebook paper and pen she had managed to find. You took what she was handing out to you, albeit hesitantly. She also found an envelope and put it on the counter next to you, giving you another reassuring look, “Look, Y/N. I can’t tell you what to do. I’m not even going to lie and say that I don’t want this to happen, you and Billy. Because I do. But, I saw the way you were glowing when the two of you were together. You were happy. You deserve to give this a shot, you deserve a chance at happiness.”

“You should be a motivational speaker, Maria,” you muttered, mustering up a smile to offer in return for her pep talk. “Yeah,” she replied sarcastically, “Once the kids turn 18 and I can quit my day job.” You giggled as Maria slipped past you, giving you privacy to ‘shoot your shot’ according to her.

Dear Billy,

I’m really only writing this because Maria is making me. I mean- I wanted to write to you, but I wasn’t really sure if that’s something you would have liked me to do. I tend to hold myself back a lot because of that.

But here I am, shooting my shot through the lost art of letter writing as Maria likes to say, the first part at least. By the way, she knows about our… practicing. Lisa is a snitch. Totally not to be trusted.

Things here are pretty normal. Normal as can be. Work is work, and I spend a lot of time with Maria and the kids. I really should get friends my own age. Ha. Well, Maria isn’t that much older than me, but don’t tell her I said that. We’re both 29 until we die.

The holidays are coming up, Halloween was fun with the kids. Frank Jr. wanted to be a soldier, but he didn’t because Lisa said it wasn’t just a costume, it was something bigger. She’s definitely Frank’s kid. They ended up going as Ghostbusters. And getting their candy confiscated for fighting on November 1st. Yep, definitely Frank’s kids.

I’m probably going to spend Thanksgiving with them. With Frank gone, Maria needs me. The kids like having me here, or maybe it’s just that I make a decent pecan pie. Wish you were here. And Frank too.

I’ve never really had someone to miss, but I do miss you. Is that cool with you?

Love, Best,

Y/N

And that was that. You folded up the single sheet of paper neatly and slid it into the envelope, sifting through the kitchen drawer Maria had gone through before to find some tape to seal the envelope shut. “Don’t trust my mom?” Lisa called out, drawing your attention to her figure standing by the door. She looked so much like her mom, arms crossed over her chest, but that smile was all Frank. “I honestly don’t trust anyone in House Castle with anything other than my life,” you replied back matter-of-factly. “Good call,” Lisa said with a knowing smile, walking over to lean against the counter near you as you carefully wrote out Billy’s name on the envelope. “I think he’ll write back,” Lisa said simply. You were taken aback by her tone, you blamed the black and whiteness in her perspective on her age. It seemed so simple to kids, kiss a guy and bam, you’re together. It wasn’t as simple as that. Was it?

“You think?” you murmured, your fingers running over the corners of the envelope, still doubting whether you were doing the right thing. “He’d be stupid not to,” Lisa replied, giving you a shrug as if that were that. This time, you weren’t bothered by the plainness of her tone, but instead felt a surge of warmth spreading in your heart, highlighted optimism. “Right,” you repeated with a smile, “He’d be stupid not to.”

Turns out, Billy Russo was not an idiot. He did write back. The letter came, taped up, in the same envelope as one of Frank’s letters. “I didn’t know my husband knew how to write a letter,” Maria had joked, slipping the letter to you after brunch a week after Thanksgiving, “Turns out, Billy was the one who pushed him to it. Something about the lost art of letter writing.”

You were so giddy, you ended up walking over to a nearby coffee shop. You were too afraid you’d be unable to wait until you got home to open the letter, so ten minutes after parting ways with Maria, you were settled at a corner table in a small coffee shop with a hot mocha and Billy’s letter.

Hey Y/N,

Cool opening. Much chiller than yours, you noted.

I already thought I shot my shot with you, but I guess kissing you wasn’t a clear enough hint that I like you? And Lisa wouldn’t have told if you had bribed her the way I do, but that’s a secret that stays with me. You’ll have to find your own way with Lisa. She’s a smart kid.

I’d say that things are normal here too, but there’s nothing normal about being out here. It’s normal for me, but I don’t think anybody else can understand that. And that’s alright, y’know?

God, I do miss pie. Make me some when I get back, will you? It’s the food I miss, the food and the beer. And Maria and the kids, of course. And you. Is that weird?

I guess not. Frank misses Maria. I think I miss you like that. So, it’s fine by me if you miss me. If you want to miss me via e-mail so I can miss you even faster, that’s also fine by me. Hear from you soon, yeah?

Billy

He even closed out his letters in a cool way! You mentally cursed yourself for crossing out that damn love you had written, hoping he hadn’t been able to make out your mistake. After you moved on past your embarrassment, you quickly typed in the email address he had written on the bottom of the letter, typing out a quick message to him.

You nearly pressed sent too, but you held back, finger hovering over the send button.

Hey Billy! Y/N here, as you can probably see as my e-mail address is my first and last name put together. Good point, we should be living in the 21st century and using e-mail. Then again, in the age of texting, e-mail writing is also a lost art of sorts.

And I know what you mean. I just like knowing that you’re well, as well as you can be. I’d like you to come home in one piece, if that’s not too much to ask.

Also, will you tell me your Lisa taming secret for $1 million?

You sighed, wondering if the rules of courtship applied to whatever this was with you and Billy. Twenty long mocha-sipping, barista probably thinks you’re crazy minutes later, you finally hit send. You figured he wouldn’t see the e-mail that quickly anyway, and that rules weren’t real and meant nothing. Just as quickly, you checked your sent folder to see if it had in fact really sent and thanks to the blessing of wireless internet, the e-mail had in fact sent. You then began refreshing your e-mail on your phone, sitting with the strange anticipation of a reply. Another five minutes of that, and you finally headed out to your car after no reply came, dialing Maria’s number at the same time.

“Of course there’s no reply,” Maria’s voice called out over the phone, “You just sent the damn e-mail, Y/N!” “I know,” you whined back, signalling your turn before slumping in the driver’s seat of your car. “Now I want to know what he wrote,” Maria commented offhandedly, and you imagined her leaning over her kitchen counter to stare out the window as she talked you down over the phone. “Over my dead body,” you muttered, to which Maria laughed out loud. “Just hold on, Y/N,” she assured you, “Just hold on.”

Maria was right. Well, she usually almost always was. Billy’s reply came a few days later, and you had practically jumped out of your office chair while at work when the notification popped up.

I’ll try and come back in one piece, but no guarantees. Also, when was e-mail writing ever an art? I thought it was always something painful adults had to do. Even thinking of the word “regards” makes me sick.

Tell me more about how things are for you, work, friends, anything. I want to know more about you.

And I would not sell you my Lisa taming secret for all the money in the world.

You bit back a smile, hoping that no one around the office was looking at you grinning at your phone screen like an idiot. Sure enough, no one was and you reread Billy’s e-mail several times over. And you couldn’t help but smile every time you did.

Over the next weeks, you and Billy e-mailed back and forth with an occasional Skype call in between. The first time you saw him on a screen was when Maria was Skyping with Frank and Billy popped in the background while you were saying hi to Frank.

“Hey stranger!” Billy called, the image of him grainy but sure enough, it was him. “Hey!” you called, your voice immediately brighter than it was a second ago and you caught Maria and Frank giving each other a look. “We can go, y’know, if the two of you want some privacy?” Frank teased as Maria snickered. “Real mature,” you muttered, playfully smacking Maria’s shoulder.

The next time Billy e-mailed you, he gave his Skype ID so that the two of you could talk sans Castle intrusion.

“Hey you!” you called, seated on the floor of your living room as your laptop rested on your coffee table. You had a cozy sweater on, keeping you warm in the midst of the rainstorm outside. It had been pouring for days nonstop, and while it meant no snow to shovel, it was hardly weather to match the cheery-ness of the holiday season.

“Hey sweetheart,” Billy replied, his lips moving in the video a second before the sound processed but you didn’t care. This was the next best thing to having him there. “How was that office Christmas party?” Billy asked, referencing an awful Secret Santa you had been to just two days earlier. “I got a nice set of hot pink oven mitts from this lady in accounting,” you bragged, your eyes wide in exaggeration. Billy laughed and the sound was truly music to your ears, “Hold onto those for me. They sound like they’re just my style.” “Yeah,” you muttered, “And I’ll get you those eyelashes you can put on your car, too.” Billy shook his head at you, unable to push back the smile from his face.

“It’s weird, y’know?” he said suddenly, shifting a bit in his seat. It caught you by surprise, you were telling him about the presents at the party that were so bad that they were good, and the smile dropped from his lips as he spoke. “Secret Santa?” you asked slowly, confused at the sudden change. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve never had anybody like this to talk to,” he said, hands moving to gesture towards the camera. “Mari-” you began before he cut in. “Nah,” he shook his head, “Not like that. Someone who’s mine.” A silence came over you, the weight of his words hanging in the air as you looked at him at the screen. You thought for a second the screen froze, but Billy blinked his eyes. “Did it freeze?” he said softly, after you hadn’t responded or moved. You shook your head, slowly at first. The sound of the heavy rain against your window were a tell-tale sign, but you weren’t sure of what to say at first. “No,” you replied back, just as softly. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, the regret apparent in his eyes, “I didn’t me-” You cut in, “No, I want you to mean it like that, Billy. I want to be somebody for you. I just didn’t know how you felt, and I’m too afraid I’ll overstep something, some kind of boundary…” Billy laughed softly, the skin around his eyes crinkling up the way it did when he really smiled, “You’re an idiot. You and me both. We let dumb shit like this hold us back.” You couldn’t help but mirror his laugh, the tension sliding off your shoulders, even as the storm didn’t let up outside, “No more dumb shit.” “No more,” he repeated, “Just us.” For the first time since that kiss the night of the party at the Castle’s home, you felt at peace. The sound of the rain was now comforting, the pitter-patter against your window now soothing you as you smiled at Billy’s image on the screen. “Just us,” you said softly, “Us.”

#stories-you-wont-hear #stories: four seasons #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fic #reader x billy russo #billy russo x y/n #y/n x billy russo #billy russo

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stories-you-wont-hear · 5 years

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– precedence. pt 3

here is a short short update on precedence. this part focuses on y/n and billy, kind of looking more at their dynamic and it gives a quick intro to what will be the main case of this story. i tend to bog down the long parts with a lot of the case stuff and not enough billy so here’s ya boy! enjoy xoxo mira

@shameless-pope @poindexted @bellastellaluna @the-scarletsandwich

___________________________________________

You weren’t really a milkshake kind of gal but you had said yes every time Billy had asked to go for one and it quickly became something that you two shared. Just the two of you. Well, the two of you, everyone else at the diner, and Tina. Billy always sat across from you in the booth that all but had your names written on it, and the fact that you two now shared an ‘always’ made you smile. “Is the milkshake that good or is it the company?” Billy teased.

You rolled your eyes back at him even though his flirty comments always made your cheeks feel warm. “It definitely isn’t the company,” you shot back at him, sticking your tongue out before taking a long sip of your milkshake. The creamy, sugary goodness left your mouth with a cool sensation and although you hadn’t weighed yourself in a while, surely these sweet treats had made you gain a few pounds in the last few months. “You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart,” Billy said. His lips formed a pout to which you narrowed your eyes, “You’re not fooling me, Russo!” you said, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

Although you had lied to Billy, he had to have known that you weren’t just spending time with him for the sake of building a strong client relationship. Eva didn’t let your leash out long enough for that to happen. You loved working with her, but she certainly believed in tough love as well as a giant ass workload. Honestly, you wondered if the woman even slept. Any free time you found recently was spent with Billy, with few nights left for your friends who lived similarly busy lives.

They questioned you about being as busy as you were initially, but you assured them it was from work. Billy wasn’t exactly the guy next door and you didn’t want to let your friends in on something that wasn’t concrete. Hell, sometimes you thought that maybe you were imagining him actually spending time with you. Perhaps he was a figment of your imagination but then you gave your imagination credit for imagining someone

“How’s work?”

Billy was looking at you expectantly as his words cut through the trance you had been in. “What?” you mumbled, taken aback by his question. The two of you talked about work occasionally, but usually you never ventured past basic workplace happenings. But the way Billy was looking at you, his dark eyes piercing through you. You felt a little naked, the intensity of his gaze making you feel vulnerable in a way you hadn’t felt like before with him. “Good,” you replied, a little too shortly after he repeated his question. His stare lightened up and he didn’t press on, thankfully. “I’d like to say the same, but we had the craziest thing happen today,” Billy say, launching into a story about a client who was part of a big name family.

It wasn’t like Billy to go into it about the happenings of his job, but in the moment you chalked it up to him opening up to you. This is what normal people did right? Talk about their jobs while drinking milkshakes. Except Billy was a highly trained, highly paid soldier and you were a highly skilled, highly in debt lawyer.

A familiar name caught your attention in Billy’s story and you cut in, “Oh! I know her.” “Really?” Billy asked, leaning back into the booth, his eyebrow slightly raised as he watched you, “Rothschild? You know the name?” You shrugged as you sipped the last bits of your milkshake, “Well, it’s been real hush hush at the office because they’re like, made of money. I saw the name on a file and I asked Eva, it’s something about Cora Rothschild, you know, the old lady?” Billy nodded, his arms now on the table as he leaned in with interest.

You also placed your arms on the table, chin resting in your palms as you held your head up. Being away from the other associates now, you relished being away from the drama but at the same time, you missed the juicy bits of gossip that you had access to. Clara, the secretary of one of the other name partners, was hardly one to gossip, although you were sure she had to have known every single thing happening in that office. Eva for sure was not someone you were going to ask anything about the latest hot gossip in the office. She told you what you needed to know, and she would probably literally kick your ass if you ever asked.

“I mean, I don’t know anything really, but I just know she’s involved with the firm,” you admitted, feeling a little disappointed that you weren’t able to tell Billy anything. Not that you should be, but the way he looked at you, like you were an open book in front of him and he was ready to devour the story you had to tell, it sent shivers down your spine and you loved the feeling.

“Probably something with the truckloads of cash she has,” Billy commented offhandedly, “She needs something to do with it, after her son died.” You nodded, remembering the story from the news when you were a teenager yourself. Rothschild’s son had died about a decade ago in a horrible car crash and that left his young daughter in the care of his mother. Mia Rothschild had been the media for the usual charity stuff, but had gotten a lot of attention for an interview she did for a magazine last year talking about growing up with her grandmother. As the sole heir to the Rothschild fortune, Cora had held her granddaughter on a short leash, grooming her to be the perfect socialite.

“I wonder,” you sighed, your mind wandering off, “If that much money is worth living your life to fit a certain mold?” Billy nodded firmly, his eyes steely as he answered your question. “Absolutely,” he said, his voice low and steady, “You either buy your way into this world, or it sells you for pennies.” “Even if the cost is your entire soul?” you asked, unsure if you wanted to know the answer to that. The serious turn the conversation unnerved you a bit, but you didn’t want to make light of what Billy was saying, especially considering what he had told you about his past. He nodded, still leaning his elbows against the table as he looked at you, “People do bad things all the time. It doesn’t mean they’re bad.”

“No?” you laughed, “I thought bad people do bad things.” “So do good people,” Billy said, sliding back to lean his head against the seat of the booth. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, suddenly feeling a little light in the head. As much as you and your friends and the Internet joked about how slimy lawyers were, you always told yourself that you didn’t really do bad things. Not real bad things anyway.

“Touche,” you muttered, wanting the conversation to end. “Sorry,” Billy replied, his expression softening. You looked back at him and eased up a bit. He no longer looked like what you imagined him to look like while doing his job, and you told yourself to let up. He had gone through a lot to get to where he was today, here with you in this moment, and you had to remind yourself that the two of you had led very different lives.

He changed the subject and you felt a little better, laughing about this or that for the rest of the night. He dropped you off in front of your apartment building as he usually did after your milkshake excursions, but this time, he reached out to grab your hand as you undid your seatbelt.

“Hey,” he said quietly, the look in his eyes uncharacteristically soft. Intense Billy, you had seen. Cocky Billy, you had seen. Soft Billy? This was new. “Are you good?” he asked, just as softly as he held your hand. You gave him a reassuring squeeze and a fake smile. “Yes,” you nodded back at him, “I’m good. Are we good?” He took a second to answer, taking a moment to look at you and for a minute, you thought he could see through your lie. “We’re good,” he replied, drawing his hand back. You immediately missed the feel of his hand on yours, your skin still tingling from where he had touched you. “Good night, Billy,” you said, moving to step out of the car. You took one look back at him and he was still looking towards you with those dark eyes, “Good night, counselor.”

#stories-you-wont-hear #stories: precedence #billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fic #reader x billy russo

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stories-you-wont-hear · 5 years

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i need gayle to be a full length series someone give chris fleming the budget

they should remake breaking bad but instead of making and dealing meth it’s a suburban white mom who makes soap and the same levels of violence, gore, and drama remain

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stories-you-wont-hear · 5 years

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for all you billy lovers out there, this story is the shit (in the best way possible)

Let It Burn

–

I just let it burn || I just let it burn || How many times do I got to tell you? || And when will you ever learn? || I just let it burn

–

Billy Russo x Reader, Soulmate Tattoo AU, follows the events of the Punisher S1 (2017) and S2 (2019)….for a while

Before Season 1

Introduction

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Season 1

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

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stories-you-wont-hear · 5 years

Text

– four seasons. | dive

this mini-series is inspired by something a friend told me her boyfriend once told her that i thought was so damn romantic. he said something like, “I want to see all four seasons together with you.” that inspired this four-part bit with billy (pre-anvil), and if there’s interest, i might do it with other characters but billy is definitely the first one to come to mind when I got this idea. hope you all enjoy!

tag list: shameless-pope bellastellaluna the-scarletsandwich

The first time Billy saw you, you were standing at the edge of the pool in Castle’s backyard, your face twisted in annoyance. “Did you have to do that?” you asked him, hands on your hips, the front of your sundress soaked due to the cannonball he had just pulled in an attempt to wow the kids. Sure, a man of his stature didn’t have to do much to impress a bunch of little kids, but the rush from compliments for “Uncle Billy” were worth the effort. “Woah, Uncle Billy do it again!” Lisa yelled from across the pool. Billy couldn’t help but shoot you a grin, cocking his head to the side in a way only he could get away with. “No,” you said firmly, about to continue when Frank Jr. cut in. “But Aun-”

Your eyebrow rose as you glared at the boy who had swam to the edge of the pool, “Francis David Castle Jr., your mother told me to get you little heathens to come eat and I will not fail her.” Both Lisa and Frank Jr. groaned, but upon the mention of their mother, they both began to head towards where Frank Sr. was grilling up burgers.

“So you’re Y/N, huh?” Billy said, hoisting himself up to sit at the edge of the pool. “That’s my name,” you replied, not moving to follow the kids but the edge in your voice wasn’t exactly an invitation to talk. “Listen, I’m sorry about that,” he said, gesturing to the front of your dress which was wet because of his whole cannonball show. “Don’t worry about it,” you replied, your shoulders easing a bit, “The kids loved it.” “They do love a good show,” he added, winking at you. You couldn’t help but laugh, Maria had told you all about Frank’s buddy from the Marine Corps. “They love you. You could sit in a chair and they’d be amazed by you,” you replied, recalling stories Maria had told you over the last few months.

The two of you had worked together briefly, but had kept in touch even after you had moved on to a different workplace. While you were unmarried and childless, the two of you found middle ground in other things. You had met Frank a few times when he had been back home, but most of your time with Maria was when he was away.

As a result, you had only heard of Frank’s “brother,” Billy Russo but were meeting him for the first time today. And the first impression hadn’t exactly been spectacular. You were sure that Maria was especially pushing for the two of you to meet so that you could get over your last boyfriend. “He’s easy on the eyes,” she had said to you the other day as the two of you went down the aisles of the supermarket together, busy preparing for the upcoming barbecue. You rolled your eyes at her, saying something along the lines of not needing a man, but upon actually seeing Billy, you had to admit that Maria was right.

“Maria’s talked a lot about you,” Billy said, taking a seat next to you just as you bit into your burger. “Good things I hope,” you replied, giving him a small smile. Billy mirrored your movements, biting into his own burger as he carried on the conversation. “Great things actually,” he said, “It was sorta like she was working on a sales pitch.” You laughed, catching Maria’s eye from across the yard. She was among other friends, but you had caught her eye on you the few times you and Billy had been near each other that afternoon. She should consider getting a job as a CCTV camera, you thought to yourself.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you said, standing up after the two of you made casual conversation while you ate, “Want anything?” “A beer sounds good,” Billy replied, taking your empty plate from you. You made your way towards Frank who was sipping a beer at the grill while Billy took care of the plates, greeting your friend’s husband warmly.

“Hey Frank,” you called, giving him a small wave. “Hey you,” Frank replied affectionately. While the two of you weren’t especially close, Frank’s appreciation for you being there for his wife and kids went unsaid but was always clear. “Now, what kind of beer do Marines like?” you pondered as you opened the cooler to examine the contents. “If it’s for Billy,” Frank called, gesturing towards a smaller cooler stored near the grill, “Give him some of the good stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow at Frank, eyeing the label of the bottle of what he was drinking. It certainly wasn’t the cheap stuff you and Maria had picked up the other day. “Remind me how to get on your good side, Frankie?” you joked, “I want an in on the good stuff.” Frank smiled in return, a rare sight, but you were sure the beer had something to do with it, “We don’t even get the bad stuff when we’re out there. I figured it’d be a treat for my brothers before we head out in a few weeks.” “Right,” you replied softly, grabbing a beer from Frank’s cooler and a wine cooler for yourself. Frank, and by default, Billy were scheduled to be deployed in a few weeks despite having just come back only about two month ago.

You remember that Maria had been overjoyed the first couple days, especially when you had offered to stay with the kids at the house this weekend so that he and Maria could get away for a few days. Over time, you could sense that she felt that Frank’s upcoming deployment was looming over them. You could sense it when the two of you went shopping together, all you wanted to do was to make sure that the two of them had a good time during the time together that they had. “See ya Frank,” you replied, giving him a nod of acknowledgment as you made your way back to Billy.

“Ah,” Billy said as he examined the bottle you had just handed to him, “Old Frankie broke out the good stuff.” You laughed, cracking open your own drink and taking a long, cool sip. “Not a beer kinda girl?” he asked, taking a long sip of his own drink. You shook your head, “I’m down for a cold one, but I’m watching the kids tonight so I want to keep it light.” He nodded, turning his attention to the rest of the yard which was full of other friends of Frank and Maria’s. There were a few other guys Frank knew from his time over there, but it was mostly families that lived nearby or classmates and parents of Lisa and Frank Jr.’s. “Not a mingle kinda guy?” you asked after a few moments of silent people observing. Billy shook his head, and you couldn’t help but notice how dark his eyes were.

It was summer, so the sunset was slow and orange, like a melting popsicle. The lights Maria had strung up in the backyard, along the fences and near the big pool Frank had bought for the kids to enjoy, were aglow and music was playing softly in the background of everyone’s conversations. In the midst of all this, you and Billy stood off to the side, taking up two chairs in one corner of the Castle’s yard. While Frank made rounds as people began to leave, he had handed Billy another beer, you turning down his offer as the two of you continued your conversation. You found out more about Billy from him, not from Maria this time. He was raised in the foster system up in Albany, and had snuck down to the city that you called home from time to time. You wondered if your paths had ever crossed unknowingly, but then you pushed that question from your mind as you remembered that you were here in this moment together.

The more he talked, the more ingrained you found yourself in his thoughts. All of the military people you knew were Marines through the Castles, and most were married with families. You were a rare friend of Maria’s, without a family of her own much less a spouse overseas, and Billy was a rare first for you. “Y/N?” you heard Maria call you, pulling you from the conversation between you and Billy. You looked up to see the backyard as packed up as it could be after the party today, and Frank and Maria standing at the back door.

“Maria!” you called, standing up suddenly and walking over to your friend, “I should’ve helped clean up, I’m so s-” Maria held her hand up, in that kind of way that made her kids immediately stop talking, so you knew better than to protest. “The Moms helped,” she explained, “Besides, I didn’t want to take you from Billy.” You opened your mouth again but she shook her head, smiling knowingly. “Take care brother,” Billy called from behind you. Frank nodded his head in acknowledgement, and somehow those gestures were enough to communicate for the two of them.

“The kids are inside watching TV,” Maria explained, “So feel free to stay, Billy.” “I’ll tuck ‘em in,” Billy replied nonchalantly, “Tell ‘em a bedtime story.” “Didn’t know you knew how to read,” you blurted jokingly. “Hey!” Billy said with a huff, playfully bumping his shoulder with yours. You didn’t know if Maria could smile any wider than she was now, but even Frank had a little twinkle in his eye. “Drive safe,” you called to the two of them as they waved their goodbyes before heading out towards the driveway.

“You wanna head inside?” you called as Billy stuck his head through the door. “Nah,” he replied, gently closing just the screen door behind him. “They’re busy being enthralled by whatever Lisa’s into right now.” You laughed, sitting down in a patio door close enough to the door so that you’d hear if the kids called out for you. Billy took the seat next to you, opting to take a water bottle from the cooler instead of another beer.

“So, how does it feel being back?” you asked, your voice cutting through the now almost silent backyard. “Funny you ask,” he replied, “Most people asked me how it felt to be going back soon.” “I’m not sure they’d understand even if you answered,” you noted. “They can’t,” Billy said, his voice taking an edge you hadn’t heard before. “There’s nothing ever that can compare, there’s no way for anyone who hasn’t done it to understand,” he continued. You let out a small sigh, partially because you were unsure of how to reply. “But being back,” Billy said, clearing his throat, “It’s strange.” “Strange how?” you asked curiously. You knew bits about Frank’s experience when he came back, mostly through Maria, but Frank was never one to talk much, and especially not about something like this.

Billy turned to look at you, and under the soft lights of the backyard, you could see him really looking at you. You weren’t sure if he’d answer, the topic was a sensitive one even with Frank who you had known for a bit. “It’s like being underwater,” Billy said softly, “Like you dive into the water and nothing feels quite right. You can see, but not clearly. You can move, but it ain’t the same. And then you surface and it’s clear but there’s that moment where you have to get used to not being in the water anymore.” You nodded, understanding what he was saying despite not being able to relate. “I used to think that being deployed was like being thrown back into the water, but lately…” Billy trailed off. “Being back here is the diving pool now,” you finished, and he smiled, genuinely smiled for you.

Neither of you spoke then and you swore Billy had leaned in, and you could feel yourself leaning in as well until you heard Lisa’s shrill voice through the door, “Aunt Y/N!” Both you and Billy pulled back, turning to find Lisa’s face peering through the door. “Were you two kissing?” she called, blinking as she eyed the two of you. “No, you pervert!” Billy retorted. “I’m sorry!” Lisa huffed, pulling the door open to stick her head outside, “Mom just said she can’t wait for the two of you to get married so I just thought you might be practicing.” “I’m going to kill your mother,” you replied, shooting Billy and apologetic look.

“What do you need, kid?” Billy asked. “Well, Frank started this movie and it’s kind of scary… Can you stay with us while we watch?” Lisa asked. “Only if you don’t make fun of me for covering my eyes,” you said with a sigh, turning your gaze to Billy. “I’m gonna head home,” he said, his hand moving to your shoulder as he stood up. “Come soon!” Lisa called over her shoulder as she disappeared back into the house.

“Are you sure?” you asked, standing up to walk him out. “I’ll give you some time to work up some points with the kids, I feel bad that they love their Uncle Billy more,” he said with a grin. You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief as you moved to turn off the lights in the backyard.

You walked Billy through the house so that he could say good night to the kids, with promises that they’d be good for you and get a waffle breakfast in return for Sunday morning. He wrapped them both in a big bear hug, picking them up easily while joking around with them and you could see why they liked him so much. With the kids settled with popcorn while lying in wait for you to return, you assured them you’d be quick with seeing Billy out.

You walked him out through the front door, stepping out to the porch away from Maria’s little spy. “I’ll see you on Sunday then,” you said quietly, crossing your arms over as the summer breeze blew a bit of cool air towards you. “Sunday it is,” Billy agreed, his voice matching the softness in yours. “Good night, Billy,” you said, giving him a smile. Instead of returning the goodbye, Billy leaned down, his hand coming to hold your face softly as he kissed you. You leaned into the kiss, stepping towards him as he ran his thumb over your cheek. When he pulled back, you followed, your hand flat on his chest. “What are we doing, Billy?” you murmured, your head clearing enough to remember that he was about to be deployed in a few weeks. He smiled softly and shook his head, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he brought his lips close enough for you to hear his low voice, “Practicing.”

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so this part was obvs summer, and the next three will be based around billy and y/n’s continuing relationship in fall, winter, and spring. love your comments, so please leave me lots of love! updates to precedence will come soon!

#stories-you-wont-hear #stories: four seasons #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fic #reader x billy russo #y/n x billy russo #billy russo x y/n

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stories-you-wont-hear · 5 years

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stories-you-wont-hear · 5 years

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i’ve missed them

#sister michael is a national TREASURE

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stories-you-wont-hear · 5 years

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– precedence. pt 2

wow have i ever updated anything this fast? NOPE. thank you for the feedback from the first part of this, it really helps me stay motivated to write more. i have a clearer path for this story now, and the next part will get into the main case. as always, enjoy and leave me lots of love! xoxo mira

@shameless-pope @poindexted @bellastellaluna @the-scarletsandwich

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“Y/N?”

“Just a minute,” you called, your eyes glued to the brief you were typing away at so fast that you were surprised your keyboard didn’t just fall apart. “Y/N,” the person said again, this time with urgency that prompted you to look up, “Eva called for you.”

You then stood up so fast that your head honestly spun a little. Nevertheless, you mentally planned how to get to the top floor in negative time in those two seconds until your eyes landed on the aforementioned woman standing just a few feet away from your desk. You cursed at yourself internally, wishing you could teleport whenever your boss asked for you.

For the past two months that had been quite frequently. The other associates had taken to calling you things like “Eva’s little pet,” and that was on the more safe for work side of things. You had bitten your tongue, deciding against telling those people that the associates under the other name partners were secretly called terms that were just as demeaning. Even if you were Eva’s little pet, it had its perks. Being let in on higher up gossip was one, but not from Eva, of course. She was simultaneously above it and the main subject of it, the latter which she credited as the burden of being a woman.

“Eva,” you started, hoping the utter panic you were experiencing wasn’t showing on your face, “I just had to fini-” She held a hand up, stopping you as she looked around your small cubicle. Her own desk was much bigger than the entire space you occupied in this building, so you were sure she couldn’t possibly fathom the conditions in which you did all her dirty work for her. “Pack your things,” she said matter-of-factly. Monty from across the aisle let out a hearty laugh and the other associates began to buzz.

“I-” you began, unsure of where your thoughts would take you until Eva cut in again, “Just pack up. Meet me in my office.” With that, she was gone just as suddenly as she appeared. You looked back at the almost finished brief you had been working on for another senior partner, wondering what the hell you had done wrong. “Guess being Eva’s bitch wasn’t all it cut out to be,” Monty said, leaning against the half wall of his cubicle as he sneered at you.

You sighed, torn between wanting to flip off half the people in the room and breaking down into tears. Others looked towards you in a mixture of curiosity and fear, unsure of their own fates. You had been caught between normal associate work and running point for Eva for several weeks now, and most had been envious. Working for Eva King required less ass kissing and more ass kicking, and as you put the last of your few things into an empty file box, you were sure you were doing a lot of the latter.

The girl from the cubicle behind you sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. She was one of the few other women here, and although you weren’t exactly Friday night wine drunk kind of friends, you could count on her for an eye roll any time another guy was chosen to run point on a case. “I’ll be sure to give you a dollar if you end up homeless on the street,” Jennie said softly, giving you a small smile. “Thanks Jen,” you said, managing to chuckle.

Box heavy in your hand, you headed up to the third floor, trying to remember any kind of prayer despite knowing it wouldn’t help you in the face of someone like Eva. The elevator dinged, letting you know that you were that much closer to meeting your maker, and you stepped off, giving a solemn nod to the receptionist who had no idea your life and career were just about to end.

Surprisingly, Eva was leaning against an empty desk just throwing distance from her own office. “Y/N,” she said, standing up straight as you approached her and another woman you had become more familiar with over the course of the last couple of weeks. “Hello sweetheart,” Clara called, giving you a warm smile. You tried to smile back, but being in front of Eva was making your heart beat five thousand beats per minute and not in a good way.

“I figured having to run up and down is getting tiring,” Eva said, gesturing towards the desk she was standing next to, “I thought it might be a good idea for you to move up here.” Your train of thought immediately crashed as you tried to process what she was saying. Just a minute ago, you were thinking about having to move out of your apartment, probably selling all your shoes and possibly your liver if you wanted to keep living in New York City, and now Eva goddamn King was telling you that she wanted you on the same floor as her.

“Box. Down,” Eva said, looking curiously at you as she gestured towards you. You nodded furiously, putting the box down as you turned back to look at her. “I’m sorry,” you began, looking between Eva and Clara, “It really seemed like you we-” “Firing you?” Eva said plainly, arms crossed. You laughed, mostly out of relief, “Well, yeah!”

“Well, that gave those little rats something to talk about, didn’t it?” she replied with a smile as she headed back into her office.

“She does like to keep things interesting,” Clara said as soon as Eva was out of earshot. You sighed, your shoulders sinking in relief. “That’s one way to put it,” you mumbled, slowly taking out your few personal items to claim this desk as yours.

Clara got you started with your new computer, assuring you that IT would have your files on it by the end of business day. She was a nice change from sitting with the other associates, her banter less bitter than your colleagues. The other associates, especially the guys, had a nasty habit of wanting to one up each other in some weird pissing contest without being blatant about it. They did it through little jokes, through expensive watches, and by bending over backwards to claim credit in front of the senior partners.

By the end of the day, you had all your files transferred and were working on the last of the brief from earlier. You had just sent it over for final review, leaning back in your chair to admire your handiwork while also giving yourself a moment to breathe.

Working at a law firm like Wesley King Randall meant that you had to give your entire self to your career, which was true for anyone that went into corporate law. Was it everything you had dreamed of? You had had classmates who were fully intent on pursuing careers in Project Innocence or even Legal Aid, and then you had classmates who intended on becoming wolves of law street and had moved on to cities like Chicago and DC. It wasn’t really everything you had dreamed of more so because you hadn’t dreamed of much.

All you knew was that you never intended on going back to the place where you grew up. Your parents were good people, but they didn’t understand ambition. To be quite honest, neither did you but you knew that it was something you were supposed to have. It was like you were running this race but you didn’t know where the finish line was. You ran to this firm because everybody was scattering towards something, and here is where you were.

You were snapped out of your daze by Clara, who was calling your name. “Y/N, honey?” You sat up straight, shaking your head to get your thoughts grounded, “Yes, Clara, sorry?” “You have someone for you at reception, honey,” Clara said, giving you a warm smile. You nodded, rising from your desk to make your way towards the desk at reception.

You initially worried that one of your parents had decided to visit, it was just like them to not call before dropping in on you in the “big city.” Your father had done it once before, calling you in the middle of the work day to let you know that he was at your apartment. You called your landlord while knee deep in legal books at the firm’s library to let him in, but it was past midnight by the time you had gotten home. Your dad had been asleep already, a dish of his homemade lasagna sitting with a cover on your kitchen counter. It wasn’t the visits you minded, it was the fact that you couldn’t dedicate the time to them.

However, the person standing at reception, dressed casually but still so perfectly with his beard a bit longer than you remembered, was certainly not either of your parents. It was Billy Russo. You didn’t just remember his name because he was stupidly handsome but because he was a client, or so you told yourself. “Mr. Russo,” you said in acknowledgment as he turned to face you. You gave him a small smile, unsure why he didn’t just let himself into Eva’s office like he had done last time, “I’m sorry but Eva already left to meet another client. Did you have an appointment with her?” Billy shook his head, reaching his hand out to you.

You shook it, warmth spreading across your face as he held onto it for a second longer. “I actually came to see you, Y/N,” he said, to your surprise. “Oh!” you blinked, confused. “I’m sure another senior partner can handle any legal trouble you might be facing, I’m just an associate a⁠—” “Actually, I think you’re the best person to handle the trouble I’m having at the moment,” he replied, crossing his arms.

You shot a look at the receptionist, who was sneaking wide eyed looks at the two of you. She flashed you a quick eyebrow wiggle and you had to hold yourself back from laughing out loud. “Sure thing,” you conceded, stepping back, “We can head to my desk.” Where the hell was he going to sit, Y/N? On top of your desk? Although, that’d be a nice sight…

“Actually,” Billy began, snapping you out of your thoughts, “I thought it might be best to do it over dinner.” “Oh…” you trailed off, standing dumbfounded as the receptionist nodded furiously at you. “Just let me get my bag then,” you said quickly, turning on your heel to get your belongings.

Dinner with a client. It wasn’t something you did often, and certainly not on your own. And certainly not with one that looked as fine as Billy Russo. “I’m going to head out now,” you called to Clara as you picked up your bag. “Enjoy the view from dinner, honey,” she called behind you. You turned back to shoot her a look of surprise, to which she simply winked.

You flashed Billy a smile as you came up to him by the elevators. He had already tapped the button for it, so the two of you stepped in a moment later when it arrived. Much to your disdain, Monty had been lurking on the top floor for the last hour, kissing up to one of the senior associates, and stepped on with you. You were sure that you and Billy on your own would have been awkward enough, but having Monty there staring at you did not help the situation.

“So Y/N,” he said and you prayed for the strength not to punch him for saying whatever he was going to say, “We all thought you were gonna get canned.” “Hoped,” you corrected, glaring at him, “I’m sure you meant to say you hoped I was going to get canned.” He gave a dry laugh, admitting that you were right. “You’re so funny,” he replied as the elevator approached his floor, “At least you’ve got that going for you.”

You sighed in relief as he left, Billy looking over at you curiously. “Are all lawyers assholes?” he asked with a chuckle. “No,” you sighed, “Just the ones in suits.” Billy laughed as he shook his head, “Wait, aren’t all of yo—”

You cut him off with a pointed look, to which he laughed again. Ah, what a sound. You had met the man about three times, twice after that first meeting to settle his case, and then you didn’t hear from him. Not that you had expected to, and he also had left for that mission thing or whatever. You weren’t entirely sure what he and his company did off of US soil, and he didn’t seem the type to sit down and hash out the details of it all.

Stepping off the elevator to the first floor of the building, you waved to the security guard at the front as you and Billy went outside. “You drive?” Billy asked, walking towards the street. You laughed, “No, Mr. Russo. I live below the 59th Street Parallel and take the subway like the rest of the proletariat.” “You’re the one who works at one of New York’s “finest law firms,”” he shot back, making the finger quotes as he spoke.

You shook your head as the two of you stopped in front of Billy’s car, “I work here. Talk to me when my name is on the door.” “Touche,” Billy agreed, reaching to pull the door for you. “No fancy car today?” you asked, slipping into the seat. “I thought I’d keep it lowkey today.” You scoffed as he shut the door, making his way to the other side. Billy Russo, keeping it low key. As if.

You had run into him for the final meeting to negotiate taking legal action or not against the contract his company had taken, having seen him stepping out of a Rolls Royce only he could pull off. You were used to people flashing their money, your clients in their expensive suits and high priced handbags, but it didn’t seem to glare you in the face with Billy. He didn’t stick it in your face, but it was there. In the end, you and Eva had gotten the other company to follow through with their contract or face getting sued “for every last penny you and your goddamn company have,” as Eva had oh so wonderfully put it.

“So,” you started after having been driving for the past 10 minutes in silence, “What’s the legal emergency?” Billy glanced at you, giving that half smile of his, “I just came back from my trip this morning and wanted a milkshake. Didn’t wanna drink it alone.” You couldn’t hide your surprise, scoffing out loud as you turned to him. “That’s your emergency?! Milkshakes?” you cried. He looked at you again, this time holding eye contact before turning back, “That and wanting to see you again.”

If you could roll your eyes any harder, you would have. “That must really work on all the ladies,” you muttered. “Nah,” he called back, having caught your words, “Just you.” You shook your head, trying to prevent the blush from spreading across your face, but for all the supposed wit you possessed, you didn’t have a reply to that.

After another 10 minutes of driving, Billy pulled up to the curb in front of what appeared to be a diner. You wondered if it was one of those “vintage” diners that the hipsters that plagued Manhattan had taken over. “Come on,” he called to you as you stood still by the car. You followed him wordlessly, admiring the interior. From the outside, it was nice and neat but still had that diner feel. On the inside was similar, neat but still genuine. “Tina’s son had this place renovated a little while ago, but it has the same feel it did 15 years ago,” Billy said as the two of you slid into the booth.

“Tina’s your girlfriend?” you joked. Billy rolled his eyes at you before he explained, “Tina’s owned the joint since I used to scrap any money I had together to get one of these shakes once a month.” “Ah,” you remarked, “So she’s your sugar mama?” Billy couldn’t help but chuckle, you had seem to found your missing wit.

“What’ll it be, Y/N?” Billy asked as the two of you browsed through the menu. It was simple enough, none of that over the top crap with a giant cookie and cereal stuffed into a milkshake glass. “Salted caramel,” you replied, setting the menu aside. The waitress caught your eye and made her way over. Billy simply repeated your order, adding onto it as the waitress wrote it down.

Sitting back against the booth, Billy looked you over as he spoke, “The milkshakes here are unlike anything you’ve ever had.” “I’m sure,” you agreed, “Especially if little Billy loved them.” He laughed, and the sound felt good to hear. Just as good as it had that one night a few weeks ago.

After your last meeting with Billy and Eva at your firm, you had offered to walk him out as you were heading down to an associates meeting. The elevator ride was short, but there was something about it that made you feel different when you stepped off. You had given him one last handshake and a smile, having settled his legal troubles just a half hour ago. He had smiled in return, thanking you just as most clients did. “Thanks again, Y/N,” he nodded, “Because of you, my men are going to have an ounce more of security.” He held onto your hand, and you felt conscious of his touch as you pulled away as the elevator dinged to let you know you had arrived.

“Come back safe, Billy,” you called before stepping off the elevator, giving him a small wave. He looked back at you through the closing elevator doors, as if confused at what you had said. Had you said something wrong? That thought was in the back of your head for the next couple of days until you woke up in the middle of the night to your phone ringing.

“Hello?” you called sleepily into your phone. “Y/N?” the voice called back. It was deep, a man, but a bit raspy. “It’s me,” the voice called again through the phone, “Billy.” “Billy?” you yawned, turning over in your bed. “I’m sorry,” he said, as you heard him clearing his throat, “I honestly don’t know why I called, I just…” He trailed off from there and you spent a few moments of silence until he abruptly spoke again, “I’m sorry, this was a mistake.” “No!” you blurt out, “It’s okay, Billy. Talk to me.”

He sighed through the phone and you wondered where he was. Probably not back in New York yet as the number didn’t look like a US number, but you also knew better than to ask. Him calling you out of the blue, you of all people, had to mean something and you didn’t want to scare him off with any questions. “It’s just hard,” he spoke into the phone, “I’ve been on tour before, I’ve been on missions like this before, but it’s just hard, y’know?” “I know,” you assured him, although you didn’t quite, “It’s hard to be far from home.” “Home,” he scoffed, “That depends on your definition.”

You hummed in agreement, assuring him that you understood some degree of that. While you didn’t quite understand what he was going through, you were glad he had called you. Whatever he was feeling, outside the bounds of your relationship as client and lawyer, he had called you to talk. You weren’t sure if that changed anything, or if there was even anything in the first place to change. For that moment, you were happy enough to nod off to the sound of his voice.

Billy hadn’t called back after that night, in fact, the first time you heard from him after that was when he had shown up at work earlier and swept you away for milkshakes. Yet, he sat across from you, thanking the waitress as she slid each of your milkshakes, whole and smiling. Whatever had been going on that night when he had called you seemed to have passed, but the change since that night between the two of you remained. You weren’t sure what this was, but for the moment, your hands wrapped around the cold glass of your milkshake.

Billy slid his glass towards yours, his smile giving away his eagerness. “Here’s to coming home,” Billy said, his eyes locked with yours. They were so dark, you knew you could find yourself sinking into them if you looked too long. You cleared your throat, pushing your own glass towards his, the contact making a soft clinking sound. As much as you tried to avoid it, your eyes found their way back to his and pulled you in. “To coming home,” you repeated.

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aaaaand that’s it. things are gonna get more interesting, but i wanted to keep most of this on billy and the reader as i feel that my stories tend to focus less on the pairing and more my reader lol i’m going on vacation soon so i’m not sure how long until i get to the next part, but hang in there! xoxo mira

#stories-you-wont-hear #stories: precedence #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fic #reader x billy russo

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