Stronger Without

It’s not about romanticizing the mundane but about being receptive to the beauty that’s already there. The mundane isn’t void of meaning or romanticism; it’s rich with stories waiting to be uncovered and retold, beauty waiting to be seen and acknowledged — a flicker of sunlight on a windowsill, a stranger's smile in passing, the muffled music from your neighbors through the wall, the way steam rises from a cup of tea. Yet, to see it requires more than just looking — it asks for a surrender, a willingness to let go of cynicism and to meet the world on its own terms. Perhaps this is where the art of living begins — not in searching for grand happenings but in learning to embrace the quiet magic of what’s already in front of us. The extraordinary doesn’t need to be created; it has always been there, nestled within the folds of the ordinary, waiting patiently to be seen.

Y/N: You’re a lying, cheating piece of shit!

Billy: Oh, yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything! WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD!

Y/N: I’m leaving you, AND I’M TAKING FRANK WITH ME!

Frank, picking up the monopoly board: I think we should stop playing now.

{Monsters in the Dark #2}

Billy’s mind, explicit language, kissing, roommate au, fem!reader.

324 words.

+++

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11

You felt tears build in your eyes as you wasted your last quarter trying to get the stuffed elephant out of the claw machine. You watched with trembling lips as it fell.

It was such a silly thing to cry over, but you had always been sensitive, something your father had bullied you over.

You sighed. It looked like you weren’t getting the elephant.

x

“Oh, baby. What’s wrong?” Billy asked, approaching you from where he’d left you to grab some beer.

He couldn’t help but feel his pants tighten at your teary eyes. He was gripped with a sudden fantasy of taking you against the claw machine.

Your dress straps would slip off your shoulders, as he’d bunch up your skirts around your hips. He imagined you teary eyed, “Billyyy.” You’d beg your lips trembling.

He wouldn’t care that people were watching, he’d only be focused on your warm, wet cunt. He’d kiss you, swallowing your sweet sounds, how the machine would move with his thrusts.

“Billy?” You asked, drawing him back to the present.

He blinked, before clearing his throat. “Yeah?” His cheeks were flushed, and you wondered where he went.

“Want the elephant,” you pointed to the soft stuffy in the claw machine.

He gave you a smile baring his teeth, before pinching your cheeks. “Alright, baby.” He said, putting a coin in the machine. You watched eagerly as he slowly directed the claw over the elephant, before grabbing it.

You squealed when he won it for you, with an ease you’d struggled with. He bent down and grabbed it, holding it behind his back. “Gimme a kiss, sweet pea.”

You pressed a warm kiss to his lips, tongue shyly slipping into his mouth. He smiled into it, before handing you the stuffy. “Thank you, Billy.” You said, hugging the elephant to you.

It made him feral at how sweet you were. How little things affected you. “You’re welcome, baby.”

Remember Me

A Drabble set in the Monsters in the Dark universe.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

x

“Billy?” You murmured one night, curled up against him, warm and drowsy, watching him in the dim lightning of the room through sleepy eyes.

“Hmm?” He hummed, letting you know he was listening, as he turned the page in his book. He liked to read before bed.

The night before he’d read a bit of The Song of Achilles to you.

“Will you remember me, like Achilles promised to remember Patroclus?” It was a foolish thing to ask of him, but you were so in love and enamored with him.

He sat his book down on his chest, watching you, the light casting harsh shadows across his face, and he was silent for a long moment before speaking; “Will you remember me?” He asked, reaching over and touching your face.

It was these sweet moments at night you desperately cherished.

“Forever.” You said, earnestly.

Billy’s fingers touched your lip, “I’ll remember you.”

His heart ached at the thought of you dying. As though a part of him had died, too.

He would protect you, he swore, if only for his own selfish desires.

Thank you, Ericca!! I missed being creative, and I really like how this turned out. :) ♥️♥️

—The Wolf.

—slightly canon!Billy, alluding to oral (f receiving), implied poly, alcohol, drunk reader.

—526 words.

—I haven’t written in a long time. I felt a little inspired, so I wrote. :) I’ll tag a few who might be interested. If you don’t see yourself tagged, it’s because I can’t remember my taglist, lol.

— @e-dubbc11 @kayhi808 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @snowkestrel @aoi-targaryen @terry2227 @firexfate @danzer8705

You drowsily watched him work at his desk, leaning your chin down on your arms, feeling jittery. You probably shouldn’t have drank that wine with your antidepressants. “Sometimes I think Anvil is what you love the most. More’n me and Frankie.” You slurred, drunk from the wine he’d given you, and feeling like you’d stepped into a hot bath. The fire cracked in the background, light flickering in the dark room.

Billy leaned back in his chair, clicking his pen, dark eyes watching you. He reached across the desk, a finger curling around your hair. “It’s proof of how far I’ve come.” He said, voice low, making a fire burn deep in your belly. God, you wanted him. In every way, you wanted to devour him like the wolf in the woods.

“But Billy, we love you. Is it really worth everything?” You asked, taking another sip, sinking deeper into the chair, his answer wrapping around you;

“I loved my ma. Where did it get me?” His voice was sharp, as bared his teeth. A pin drop could be heard, and the wind blew outside, making you cold somehow despite the warmth of the fire.

“I could love you.” It was quiet, but he heard you as he pulled back, dark eyes like chips of onyx.

“It doesn’t matter if you love me. You’re mine.” The clock chimed midnight.

“And you’re mine and Frankie’s.” You said, shifting, the chair creaking underneath you. You remembered recently sharing a bed with Frank and Billy, nestled between them while they smoked. You felt an ache between your thighs even now, the smell of Billy’s cologne and nicotine.

Billy fidgeted with the pen, a frown between his eyes, and his lashes fanning over his cheekbones.

The room was dim, casting harsh shadows across his face. He dropped the pen and it rolled across the desk. He grabbed his glass of whiskey, Tennessee Honey, and finished it off. He looked at you over the glass. “There’s no such thing as fairytales. That shit is for the storybooks.”

“But maybe in the fairytale Red Riding Hood gets eaten, and she’s happy for it.” You said, wide eyed, and eager.

“And I’m the wolf, right?” He set the glass down, admiring how you pressed your thighs together under his hot gaze.

“Billy, who says you’re the wolf?” You said giggling, and he couldn’t tell if it was the wine. “I can eat you when you visit your mother in that home you keep her in. When you keep her—“

Billy clicked his tongue. “Careful. You’re clever and I like you, but my ma is off limits.” He said through his teeth.

“Oh, Mister Russo, won’t you keep me and Frankie locked up, too?” You continued, unruffled.

He closed his laptop, and stood up moving around the desk. He fisted your hair, “Alright, little bird. Let’s go to bed. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll eat that pussy.”

You laughed, standing up, running for the stairs, looking over your shoulder, beckoning him. Your hips swayed, taking the first step, and then laughed again racing up the stairs, Billy hot on your heels.

And hell on his.

Unsolicited Witch Tip 36

Want an easy fix for the energy of your home? Burn a black candle alongside a brown one. The black candle banishes negative energy, while the brown one helps to bring balance.

Billy Russo has done nothing wrong, ever, in his entire life.

“wtf is wrong with you”

you mean like today or like in general?

Monsters in the Dark #14

—attempted assault, blood, canon typical violence, mentions of an attempt of reader’s life, trauma, flashbacks, ptsd, fem!reader—

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

You were terrified as you hid in Billy’s closet, listening to them ransack the penthouse, your hands over your ears.

Memories resurfaced of you hiding in the woods, bloody and afraid, waiting for your mother who never came.

Your father had taken her from you.

You were shaking when one of them opened the door, finding you crouching amongst Billy’s clothes and shoes.

“What do we have here?” He said roughly, grinning and grabbing your arm and yanking you out.

You tried to claw at his face, trying to get away, screaming. He slapped you so hard your head turned, and your heart raced.

You were going to die or worse.

x

He had you pinned on the bed, pawing at you. You had tried kicking him several times, but he hit you twice. “Be good, girlie. You might even enjoy it.” He gave you a sinister smile.

“If you have to force women into bed, you can’t be that good!” You sassed him.

He backhanded you again. You were sure you’d bruise tomorrow; “Watch your mouth,” he growled, ripping your shirt open, making buttons fly. “Need to teach you a lesson in respect.”

You spat on his face, as Billy stormed in looking furious. You felt relief swell in your chest. The intruder let go of you, seeing Billy covered in his comrades blood. He looked like a god of war, covered in his enemies blood, fury written across his face.

Billy struck as fast as a snake, slicing your attacker's throat with his hidden blade, over and over again, until bone and sinew showed, and his blade stuck out of his neck at an odd angle. The intruder gurgled over you, spraying you with blood, holding his throat before collapsing on the bed next to you.

x

Billy hummed, watching you reach for his face, wiping the blood off his lip with your fingers, almost mesmerized by him and his violent visage, her eyes dilated. Aroused by his killing of another.

It aroused him. God, you were perfect for him, he thought.

His face no longer held the fury at someone touching you. He looked gentle now.

Like your mother when she shot her husband, and then turned to you. A fierce warrior turned gentle caretaker.

Images churned in your head, the sounds of Chopin, the smell of freshly baked apple pie, a pristine white piano splattered with blood, and your mother wiping your face.

“Mama wiped my face,” you said suddenly, voice soft. You’ve told him before, but it felt good to talk about it.

Billy looked at you, obsidian eyes warm. “I was playing Prelude in A Major, op. 28 no. 7. Chopin. I missed a note. Daddy was angry.” You recalled, trembling.

Billy lips brushed your head, “You could play for me, if you wanted.” He said. There’s a piano in the penthouse. You’d always looked at it longingly, but fear always took over. What if you missed a note?

You shook, fear at missing a note taking over again, and even though you knew Billy would never hurt you like your father; you were still afraid. “Don’t want to.” You mumble into his chest, clutching his dress shirt in your hands, noticing specks of blood on it.

Billy hummed, “When you’re ready then, baby.” He fixed your hair, tucking it behind your ear. The same hands that have shed blood violently, treated you like you’re porcelain. Treasured.

You wanted him to know he was treasured too, but the words don’t come; words had always been difficult for you.

He set the cloth aside, helping you out of your bloody clothes, and handing you one of his t-shirts. You sniffed it. It smelled delightfully like Billy, you couldn’t put your finger on what the scent was, probably his detergent, but it was comforting.

You laid with him that night after his men cleaned the mess up, his touch grounding you as he stroked your spine. “I hope we can be together forever.” You mumbled sleepily, fingers playing with the scar on his hip. You couldn’t stand the thought of losing Billy, you’d lost so much.

Your fingers dug into his hips, as if by might you could keep him by your side. That by your own power he’d never disappear if you just held onto him tightly enough.

Billy held you tighter, too.

If Billy had his say, you would be together forever, even if he had to drag you down to the underworld with him, like Hades took Persephone.

His grip on you tightened further.

Forever.