hi! im the anon from yesterday and i really understand how u feel and actually wrote on here a lot, but the bigger i got with followers i just got anxious and deactivated LOL anyways, i check the billy russo tag everyday and love reading ur stuff posted there it's apart my ✨️routine✨️ and was just curious. i think u write really beautifully and ur portrayal of billy is so 👩🍳💋 keep writing as long as it makes you happy! 💗
Thank you so much for that. I’ve had some people that were extremely critical of me as a young girl, so I often think everything I write is worthless, and constantly compare myself to others. But it always helps when kind people like you come along an offer such sweet compliments. So, thank you again. 💜💜💜
Hi! This is regarding your post asking which of your fics is my favorite. It was a recent one... Butterfly(?). Billy wants to clip your wings so you stay with him forever. I commented that it'd be a cool twist if you end up clipping his instead. Lol
Hi, Kim! 💜
Oooh, yeah. Blood and Butterflies. I actually stepped out of my comfort zone with that one, and ended up really liking it. I’d really like to continue it, along with a bunch of other WIPs, lol.
your billy x bunny mafia au is very cute.
very cozy as well regardless of the dark themes that come with mafia. but I guess it's just your writing that's comforting and cozy.
it makes me want to bundle up in Billy's arms and fall asleep while he's telling abt military tactics and the use of weapons and stuff like that.
truly a treat.
thanks for writing 💖
Thank you so much! You’re right though, I do tend to write cozy things. I was thinking about that the other day. I could probably do well in the cozy mystery genre. 😂
Thank you again for reading, and the follow! I really appreciate it! 💜
“this character is dead” to you maybe. I don't know where y'all live but I live in denial
Monsters in the Dark #19
Dark themes, ptsd, nightmares, abandonment issues, language, fear, fem!reader.
@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack
x
Billy tossed and turned, a cold sweat breaking out over his body. He couldn’t find you. His heart raced, as adrenaline coursed through him. He called for you and called for you. Nothing. He ran around an abandoned looking hotel, frantic. The silence was deafening.
He tried to calm himself, use tactics that they’d taught him in the Marines, but he was too frantic.
Attachments were a weakness, and he’d created his own with you.
Sometimes it looked like you’d ghosted around a corner, but you were never there. All he heard was the whistling of the wind. It was maddening.
Billy woke up gasping for air, and reaching across the bed for you. It was empty.
He wiped sweat from his brow.
Fuck.
What if it was real? What if someone had taken you? He remembered climbing into bed with you, but nothing felt real right now.
He threw the duvet off, bolting out of the bedroom. There you stood in the kitchen at the fridge, a spoon in your mouth as you looked up at him, innocently.
“Billy?” You asked, pulling the spoon out of your mouth.
He moved around the island countertop, and grabbed you, crushing you to him. His heart rate returned to normal, feeling your very real form against him.
“What’s wrong, Billy?” You asked, letting him hold you, peeking up at him.
Billy licked his lips; “Couldn’t find you,” he rasped, clinging to you. “I don’t believe in fairytale endings, life has proven time and again that nothing lasts forever. I know someday we’ll be parted from each other, but I thought it came sooner than I expected.” Billy explained, hating how desperate he sounded. He hated being weak.
“Don’t say that. I’ll fight Heaven and hell itself to make sure we’re together forever. Never gonna let Billy go.” You whispered, clinging to the spoon in your hand, and to him.
God, you made him want to believe in forever. But it had never been proven to Billy. He remembered getting free ice creams from this kind older black man when he was still in the group home. But one day he died because he’d gotten shot accidentally in a drive by.
The one person who cared about Billy had been cruelly ripped from him. Billy just knew someday you’d be ripped from him just like Mr. Avery.
That his enemies would either kill you, or old age or illness would take you, or maybe you’d just leave someday, tired of him.
Billy kissed you, fingers digging into your hips. “You swear?” He rasped.
“I swear. I’m with Billy until only death parts us.” You said, and waved the spoon in his face. “Want some ice cream?” You grinned trying to lighten the mood.
Billy smiled, relaxing. “Yeah, baby.” He hummed, “I’d love some.”
So there the two of you ended up, at half past two in the morning, sharing ice cream.
For now, Billy was content not to think about the past or the future, but to just enjoy the moment with you.
For now.
A Monsters in the Dark Drabble.
Warnings; angst, mentions of Billy’s bad childhood and reader’s, language, fear of attachments, kissing, possessive behavior, fem!reader.
I’ve rewritten this more times than I can count, so I’m posting it for better or for worse.
@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate @aoi-targaryen
Monsters in the Dark Masterlist
x
And I am done with my graceless heart, so tonight I’m gonna cut it out and then restart.
You knew you shouldn’t have been, but you were snooping in his office. You wanted to know where he went every week. It wasn’t your business, but curiosity killed the cat.
You ended up finding a picture of a woman and what presumably was Billy as a child. He was cute, you thought unable to tear your gaze away from the photo. He had her eyes, but neither were smiling in the photo.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Billy stood at the door looking thunderous.
“I just—“ you began, head snapping up.
“Get. Out.” He snarled, cutting you off, snatching the photo out of your hand, his face contorted in fury.
“Wanted to know Billy.” You whispered, brushing past him, your throat burning with the effort to keep from crying.
“By invading my privacy?” He seethed from behind you. You sniffed, and god Billy almost pulled you into his arms, knowing what you’d been through with your father.
But he didn’t need or want your pity.
He was going to kick you out, you just knew it. You began making contingency plans. You wouldn’t be homeless again with nowhere to go, you swore.
x
“Billy’s mad at me,” you whispered into your tea, sitting with Curtis.
“He’ll cool off. He just doesn’t want your pity. Billy’s very independent that way.” Curtis said, having coffee himself.
“I don’t, though. My daddy didn’t want me, either. If anything I felt understood, but I’ve gone and blown it.” You said, keeping out that you’d been sleeping with Billy.
Your chest ached knowing you’d have to sleep on your own tonight. That the memories of your father would likely resurface, scaring you. You chewed your lips until they were bloody.
Curtis extended his leg, he looked like he was in pain. “Don't chew your lips,” he scolded, lightly dabbing at the blood there. You had a habit of worrying at your lips, something Curtis often scolded you for, “Want me to talk to him?” He asked, pulling the cloth away from your lips.
“No, it’ll make it worse.” You said, finishing your tea.
Curtis hummed, “It’ll be okay, Billy’s stubborn but I can tell he cares about you, even if he doesn’t say. He’s not good with emotions.” He explained sipping his coffee.
You hoped Curtis was right, because you’d grown to care for Billy, even knowing he wasn’t entirely good, and made his living out of violence.
You trusted him, and even as angry as he got, he hadn’t struck you. He’d been controlled.
You only wished his anger hadn’t hurt so much. A curse of feeling everything strongly, everything felt so deeply.
x
Billy couldn’t fucking sleep. The image of your eyes filled with tears stuck in his head, that he’d caused them. But more than that he missed your warm body next to his, the feeling of your even breaths, and soft snores, the way you played with the scar at his hip before you went to sleep every night. You always had a fixation with it.
You were the only woman he’d let into his bed. It was his one safe space, but he hadn’t been able to turn you away that night you’d begged to sleep with him.
And now he was attached to you. The very thing he hated, because it meant he could be vulnerable again. Sometimes he wanted to cut his heart out, it would make life so much easier.
The woman who was supposed to love him, had abandoned him. The most important relationship he’d ever have in his formative years. His fingers fisted his duvet seeing your sweet face in his mind again.
But god he liked you. He still had the lavender under his pillow that you got him.
“Fuck this,” he hissed, throwing his duvet off. He wanted you in any capacity you’d have him. There was nothing to think about.
x
You laid in bed that night in the guest room, trying not to see your father in the shadows as you usually did, his shadow still hanging over you, frightening you years after his attempt on your life.
You hid under the covers letting out a shaky breath. He’s not here, you told yourself. He can’t get you. You chanted over and over, but a tingle of fear trickled down your spine, making it hard to breathe.
You screamed when you heard someone knock on your doorframe. You peeked out from the covers, “Billy?” You asked, shaking.
“Who else?” He asked not unkindly, his hair mussed from laying on it. “Come to bed,” he said hoarsely, as though he hadn’t gotten much sleep, either.
You hesitated and he ached at your reluctance, “I’m not mad anymore, sweet pea.” He said seeing you shake, before you threw off your duvet, and followed him into his room. When you climbed in, he pulled you against him, stroking your spine, burying his face in your hair. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he rasped, surprising himself. He rarely apologized. But he realized he valued you.
You kissed his mouth, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have been snooping around.” You mumbled against his lips.
Billy’s fingers dug into your hips, “I just wanna love Billy. Every part of him, even the parts he’d rather forget.” You continued, trying to make him understand.
Billy ached at that. His own mother hadn’t loved him, how could you? You kissed him again, soft and slow making him groan softly, tasting the toothpaste on your tongue.
And just like that the ache in Billy’s heart eased in the wake of your kisses, sweet and yielding.
“You’re mine.” He rasped, making your heart leap with hope.
“You promise?” You asked softly, minty breath blowing over his face.
“I promise.” He said, kissing your forehead, before tucking you under his chin.
And after hours of fighting for sleep, you both fell asleep at two in the morning.
A Monsters in the Dark Drabble.
Warnings; sexual fantasy, sexism, misogynistic ideas, religious/spiritual abuse, fem!reader.
@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate
Monsters in the Dark Masterlist
x
You were drawn to Billy like a moth to a flame, but your strict religious upbringing made shame descend, making your neck prickle as though God himself was watching. As though he’d cared about some nobody girl hung up on her roommate.
For a while, you allowed yourself to indulge in sin, as you laid in his bed and fantasized about his kiss, his mouth on you, and his beard scratching your thighs. How his cock would feel in your hands, like velvet steel.
The way he’d taste on your tongue, the feel of him in your mouth, heavy on your tongue, how he’d make your jaw ache in the best way. How he’d fuck your throat.
“You’re ruined for me, aren’t you baby?” You could hear him say in your head, making you press your thighs together. He’d laugh; “I haven’t even touched you yet.”
Your cheeks were hot, and you ached between your thighs, desperate for his touch.
“Where do you want me, pretty girl?”
He was your hallelujah, amen. You wanted to worship him; you were sure he’d make you see God.
Your foster mother always warned of passion, of it snares.
“Why buy the cow if he can get the milk for free?”
As though women were cattle to be sold, a commodity. As though marriage was all they were good for. Pleasure was for men, childbearing was for women. You remembered the first time you touched yourself, she’d caught you and beat you with a rod.
“Spare the rod, spoil the child.” She used to walk around saying, making sure all the children behaved.
His bedroom door opened and you jumped, “Want some takeout, baby?” Billy asked, raising an eyebrow at you. You looked like you’d gotten caught with your hand in the cookie jar. You were supposed to be taking a nap.
You nodded, cheeks warm.
You left his room with him, aching.
But that was what you got for thinking impure thoughts.
The self flagellation felt good.
36. | because we are living in a material world, and I am a material kitty. | my cat, probably. Masterlist I
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