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persephonescottage · 1 year

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Honey & Wine | 03.

Pairing: Billy RussoxFem!Reader

Summary: Billy forgot the heart.

Warning: References to sexual situations, swearing, obsessive thoughts. Although this chapter might not include it, this fic will include kidnapping, stalking, somnophilia, CNC (between two consenting adults), knife play, age gap, dub con, Stockholm syndrome, gaslighting and other triggers I will include as we go along, please only read if you’re 18+. If any of this warnings trigger you please don’t read.

A/N: I have horrible writers block! I managed this, sorry about it. Pony will get sluttier if that makes you feel better. Love ya!

Time feels different in Santorini.

Or maybe it’s just time with Billy that moves in a way that didn’t before him.

You had been on edge on your visit down to the beach a couple days before, watching him slowly drink beer while you pretended to read your old book.

He didn’t need to know that you re read the same sentence a million times while waiting for the shift on his calm demeanor.

For the usual innapropriate comment from him, a groping touch, a flirty tone on his voice.

But it never came.

He looked at you from time to time but seemed lost in thought. Even when you accidentally on purpose dripped pomegranate juice down your chin and neck.

He didn’t move.

Instead he kept his gaze on the horizon, watching the sun make the waves shine like they were sprinkled with iridescent glitter.

And then that phone call came and he fled, just left you there. So much for kidnaping you, now he left you alone?

You dropped the book on your lap when you saw him disappear through the quaint restaurant by the shore.

How long would he be?

Enough for you to escape?

But where to?

Anywhere!

Why weren’t you running?

Because you didn’t want to, you hear a little voice in your head. You simply don’t want to leave.

You want to be here in Santorini and read by the beach with Billy and that cute tan line he was getting on his nose from wearing sunglasses too much.

So you won’t run, you decide.

You sit back on the beach chair, cross your legs and read ahead of that one sentence you had memorized by now, only lifting your gaze to see him when he comes back and sits next to you.

“Who was that?”

“No one important.” He smiles.

“Ok.”

You smile back, and you’re sure you see a twinkle on his eye from this nonchalant answer. You’re not fighting him, but really, when had you fought him before?

The real surprise comes to you when you get back home. His hand on your back, guiding you up the beach stairs and through the cobblestone streets that lead you there.

Your skin is hot from the sun and you can smell the sunblock on him. You want to draw him a bath and wash it off his skin with your bare hands.

And suddenly there’s a tingle on your lower stomach.

Anticipation.

Maybe you’ll wear the ruffled lingerie after all.

He cooks you pasta that night and you finally accept a glass of wine from him, hoping it’ll give you courage, thinking this is the night you finally sleep with Billy on an actual bed and off the influence.

You imagine how disappointed you must have looked when he walks you down the hallway to your bedroom door after dinner, kisses your forehead and leaves you behind.

Closing the door of his very own bedroom behind him.

What?

He stalks you, threatens you, finds about your deepest darkest secrets, drugs you, kidnaps you, and he won’t even try to touch you?

Where you missing something here?

You sit on the bed he made perfectly for you that night. Embarrassment coating your cheeks when you realize you were ready to ride that dick down the road of immorality and he couldn’t care less.

What if he had lost interest?

Maybe he just liked the chase, now that you were here and willingly playing house with him he was over it.

You pace around the room, unable to sleep. Wondering why you’re planning your outfit for tomorrow.

Why you set your alarm early and think of how you’ll wear your hair.

You’re really thinking how to gain your stalkers attention back.

Billy carries full paper bags as you both walk through the local market the next morning.

You had woken up and put on a light summer dress, walking barefoot in the apartment, cursing him for only getting you modestly short dresses.

If there ever was a time in your life when you were in need of a slutty dress, this was it.

But you do what you can with what you have.

You’re like a cat, moving your hips side to side and rubbing yourself on things to get your scent to mark your territory, hoping your perfume on his belongings will spark some kind of primal desire.

If Billy noticed your attempts, he didn’t comment on them, but he sure eyed you up and down when you entered the kitchen.

“You look pretty.”

He said almost whispering but he wouldn’t look at you as he handed you a cup of coffee.

‘It’s all for you’, you wanted to say but you don’t dare to yet so you just drink from the mug and say thank you.

Now you walked parallel to the fruit stands of the market one hand linked to his arm, the other holding fresh lilac flowers.

He asked you to choose a bouquet for the dinning table. He told you that was your job from now on and you hope he won’t notice the flushing of your cheeks.

Why did that have you giddy like a schoolgirl?

You walk down the street for a while choosing fresh herbs and vegetables for dinner when you see a girl selling pastries on a stand.

She has all kinds of flavors and sizes and then your brain welcomes a memory so intense you stop on your tracks, holding Billy back with you.

Cupcakes.

Colorfully iced cupcakes catch your eye and you remember why you’re here. Billy notices too and wastes no time to take your hand and drag you away.

His hand holds your arm around his even though you’re not planning to let go.

In fact you’re scared to let go and loosing him on the crowd at the market because he’s in such a hurry, passing people that become blurry to you at the pace he’s taking you.

Both his reaction and yours don’t give you a chance to speak until you’re on the doorstep of your beach house, about five blocks from the last stand.

You look for his sight but he looks down, eyes glued to the set of keys he kept in his pants pockets, fingers moving fast trying to look for the right one while you discretely struggle to catch your breath after the commotion.

Is he mad?

He looks frustrated, almost embarrassed and you think you know why.

Does this man want you both to pretend New York never happened?

As soon as he opens up you beat him inside, moving through the small patio with terracota tiled floors.

You fake a smile before you turn back to him. He already closed the door and he stands against it, a tense look on his face.

Like you would have to kill him before he lets you walk out that old wooden door.

But he’s looking at you.

“Why did you run? I really wanted some baklava.” You sigh giggling as you head inside the house.

You can sense him relaxing and he steps away from the entrance, suddenly realizing you won’t try to run.

“I’ll get you some tomorrow.”

#Honey and wine #Pony 2 #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic

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persephonescottage · 1 year

Text

Honey & Wine | 01.

Pairing: Billy RussoxFem!Reader

Summary: Pony wakes up to a home just not hers.

A/N: Here it is! Thank you to everyone that still wanted to know about my silly little characters and thank you for choosing to read this. This is a sequel to Pony and I’m excited to give this two a proper ending. PS. Billy is back at it!

The smell of the sea you remember from growing up in California present as soon as you open your eyes to the white room you’re laying in.

Warm sun rays fill it as linen curtains fly around with the breeze that comes in through a pair of french doors.

Your hair lays on cream colored pillows embroidered with blue threads and your body is tangled in sheets that smell like lavender. There’s a bouquet of pink peonies on a vase on the night stand right next to a water filled carafe.

Where the hell are you?

The adrenaline in your body interjects you out of the bed and you run to the doors to look outside. The sea is right there, just passing a small patio with bugambilia bushes and a small table round up with two chairs.

The waves crashing against the colorfully tiled concrete ledge that separates you from the sea.

You touch your body slightly, moving your arms, lifting your legs. Nothing hurts and you’re not injured, in fact you feel quite rested apart from the strange sweet taste in your mouth.

You’re barefoot but you don’t care, you walk in a trance letting your naked feet touch the warmth of the terracotta clay floors outside as you reach the ledge, the cotton camisole you wear sticking to your body.

The sun is shinning bright.

You’ve never seen such a shade of blue.

“What are you doing?”

You hear his concerned voice behind you and you suddenly remember. Your trashed apartment, you kneeling on the floor fighting a panic attack as Billy Russo dragged you out through the emergency stairs of the building in John Street.

Everything went dark after that.

“You scared me.” You say, your hand on your chest as you turn around to face him.

His hair is tousled and he is wearing a grey linen shirt and some shorts, a white kitchen towel over his shoulder. His cheeks pink in a sun kissed look and you panic.

How long have you been here if he already has a tan?

“Step away from the ledge Pony.”

“I’m not gonna jump.” You assure him baffled, because its the truth, but also because your instinct says you have to be on his good side.

“Get back inside then.” He looks slightly relieved but you know he’s still has his suspicions “I’m making breakfast.”

“Wait. Where are we?”

“Where you wanted us to be my love.” He smiles.

Therapy?

“We’re in Santorini, come on inside, I’m making omelettes.”

With that he disappears into the house that you can now see from the outside. Irregular white walls that seem brighter with the sun rays, slight touches of the same blue you saw on your bed sheets, the wood frames of the doors that lead inside.

How long have you been asleep?

Is anybody else here with you?

But most importantly.

Are you free to go?

He went inside and you could run, you tell yourself checking for a door out of the home, but all you can see is the sea surrounding you. If you wanted out you would have to go in.

But, do you want out?

You let your naked feet touch the rustic tiles on the inside of the home, the walls are decorated with colorful art and it’s fully furnished. You hope he had someone decorate it before you arrived and not that you’ve been unconscious long enough for him to do all of this.

“You hungry?” His tone is so casual, so domestic, that it terrifies you.

The house smells like chives and fresh cream and you can hear the sizzling sound of the skillet where he is cooking over classical music that plays quietly on a vintage radio. You stare at him while he works, without the fancy suits and the sleeked back hair, he looks slightly boyish.

Or maybe you were just so used to the edge of the Blackbird mask.

“Sit sweetheart it’s almost done. You want some wine?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s always five o clock in Santorini babe!” He laughs so carefree and you try your best to smile.

You’re fighting yourself to not look alert but you’re not that great of an actress and you’re sure you look like a scared little mouse when he comes near you and guides you to the dinning table.

You would lie to yourself if you said the feeling of his hand on your lower back didn’t make your heart skip a beat.

“How are you feeling doll? Dizzy? Nauseous?”

“Not really.”

“Perfect.” His smile warm again “Hungry?”

You shrug but you sit down on the table anyway.

You see him get back into the kitchen and come back with a couple plates. There’s fresh fruit, eggs, coffee, toast, everything looks delicious and your hand automatically goes for the coffee mug, taking a much needed sip.

He wouldn’t poison you would he?

“Now that you’re up, I was thinking we could go down to the beach.”

“Now that I’m up?” You question him but all he does is keep eating, as if you had said nothing.

“You need the fresh air and I-“

“Why are here?” You cut him off bluntly. “What happened to me?”

“You were asleep for a while.” He dismisses it.

“Define a while.”

“Couple days.”

Couple?

And he says that so nonchalantly?

“What’s going on here Billy?”

“Jesus, so many questions, eat your breakfast we’ll talk later.”

“No. Let’s talk now.”

You see him put his fork down and you get tense. He doesn’t look as angry as much as he looks frustrated but his dark eyes look up to you and that always triggers feelings in you.

Sometimes sexy sometimes scary, but always feelings.

“We’re in Greece, just you and me, that’s what’s going on.”

“So like a holiday?” You want to believe.

“Not exactly.”

You can feel him going around your questions, dodging the real explanation and you think if you weren’t on the other side of the world without rhyme or reason you could find it cute.

“Billy?” You talk slower this time warning him “Why are we in Santorini?”

“This is what you were working three jobs for. Isn’t it?” He’s smiling now “You wanted a house in Greece.”

“Yes but not-“

“Not with me?” He laughs, his eyebrows raised in surprise “Well that’s a nice thanks for the place Pony! By the way it’s under your name. The new one of course.”

You look at him perplexed and he catches on.

“If I found out you killed your ex anyone can. Just wanted you to be safe.”

His words make your face burn.

He talks about your crime in such a casual manner, a secret that closed you up like a clam for years. You fled California, you shut yourself from the world and focused all your time and energy on running away, and he speaks of it as a stumble on the road.

You don’t think you can eat anything at the moment as your stomach churns with memories of your crime and you see him finish his plate, reading your face and taking yours to the kitchen as well.

There’s this familiar dynamic going on but you’re not sure if it’s safe yet. He acts as if you’ve lived together longer.

Coming back to the dinning room you see him swirl a glass of red wine on his hand and he bends down to peck your cheek on his way to the patio.

“Get yourself ready for the beach honey. The fresh air will help your head.” It’s half a sweet request and half a command and you know you can’t argue with it when you stand and walk behind him to the patio down the hall where you walked in.

As soon as he steps out the breeze playing with his now longer hair he calls out for you after he’s pulled out and sat on one of the chairs around the glass table.

“Hey Pony?”

“Yeah?” You find your voice quiet and shy.

“Why Greece?”

“I love Mamma Mia.” Is all you say before walking to the direction of your bedroom, his loud laugh following you through the doors.

It did sound ridiculous now that you said it out loud.

&&&

You find strange how the bedroom feels so much like you decorated it and you have mixed feelings when you keep finding objects of your old apartment scattered around in the decor.

Your makeup sits in the vanity, along with your perfume bottles, vintage iron brush and handheld mirror, your skincare tucked in a cabinet of the bathroom, your art on the walls and certain pieces of your clothing hang in the closet.

You recognize those pieces as the ones in the polaroid pictures you once had to show to the police when he left them on your nightstand in Brooklyn, when you didn’t even know he existed in the first place.

So this is why all your place was trashed.

He could’ve done it in a more organized way, you think.

You go through the drawers of your dresser finding everything inside. They’re all full with clothing in your size, accessories exactly to your taste and you eye the shoe rack on the wall that has all kinds of designer on it.

You even reach the lingerie drawers and scoff when you find all dainty lace and bows in there.

After he kidnapped you?

Not gonna happen sir!

There’s a couple of bathing suits there and you’re relieved they’re not so revealing but you still put a light short dress on top of a one piece red one and a large hat that hangs behind your door.

How did he manage this? To create this environment where you feel so immediately at home, where you find everything naturally and everything is to your exact taste?

The waves keep crashing outside of your window and you wonder what would happen if you refused to go to the beach.

You can hear Gianna’s voice in your head. You’re in Greece with New York’s hottest bachelor, he got you a full new wardrobe and wants to take you to the beach, and you’re nervous?

She would be so disappointed but you’re just not sure how much freedom you’ll have in this paradise.

Maybe you should start by asking for your passport.

“Ready sweetheart?” He calls for you again and you sigh.

You did kinda want to see the beach, you’d think of escaping later.

#billy russo #billy russo x female reader #pony 2 #billy russo x reader #stalker!billy #billy russo fanfic #my writting

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