Authors, Reblog If You Love Receiving New Comments On Your Old Works

i need to tell you that your Billy Russo Pomegranates series makes me so happy. that is all. thank you for putting each little work out there. keep on, my friend.

Thank you so much, love! 💜 Sometimes I doubt myself and my writing, so this was really quite nice to hear.

Tutus.

+roommate au, fluff, possessive behavior, reader is ADHD coded, kissing, fem!reader+

I realized I had described a Calvin Klein cologne that did not exist, so I did more research into what some of them smell like. My apologies.

Monsters in the Dark Masterlist.

&&&&

He fisted your hair, “Asked you a question, sweet pea.” You had been distracted by how good he smelled, like something spicy, his cologne probably. It was entirely Billy.

His new roommate was always distracted, however. His fingers tightened in your hair, wanting to make you his, to kiss you in a way that left no room for question on who you belonged to.

He was taken with you almost violently. By your tenderness.

You raised your eyes to his, so rarely you gave eye contact to people. You didn’t like them looking into your soul, and you didn’t like looking into theirs. You always ended up focusing on the whites of their eyes, or maybe if that person had a god complex, or if they were thinking about touching you. People liked to approach you, and touch you without asking.

But you gave Billy eye contact, always drawn into his dark gaze that stripped you down. He was the only person who could touch you, too, besides Curtis. They made you feel safe, the only two who didn’t make you feel like ripping your skin off. “Huh?” You asked, tilting your head.

He laughed, “Text me when you get home from Curtis, okay?”

You looked at him sheepishly, “You smell good,” you said, leaning closer.

“Calvin Klein.” He answered, as you sniffed his neck.

“Can I wear some?” You asked sweetly.

“Men's cologne?” He raised an eyebrow, fingers still tangled in your hair.

“Mhm. Wanna smell like you.” You hummed, eyes hooded.

“Sure, sweet pea.”

You didn’t answer his previous question, kissing him instead. But you’d been kissing him ever since he’d come home with your favorite tea last week. Apparently the way to your heart was tea.

He smiled into your mouth, unable to resist your want of him.

Finding a fresh new daydreaming plot is honestly the best feeling.

//Monsters in the Dark #9//

Dark themes, mentions of abandonment, anxiety, codependency, kissing, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

&&&

The clock ticked overhead, and you chewed your nails, nearly down to nothing. Billy had been gone for hours after having left you with Frank and Maria. He was dealing with someone who had come after his client.

He’d left when the sun was still up, it was dark now. Maria had tried to soothe your worries, “Billy’s very capable. He’ll come home.”

It didn’t take away the anxiety from your stomach, the heavy feeling in your chest that another person had abandoned you.

You moved to the window, watching for the headlights of the car. The clock ticked, and you wanted to rip it off the wall, as it measured Billy’s absence.

You thought of your mother. She had always protected you, but she couldn’t help herself against your father. She’d killed him as she went down in flames.

Your heart ached. Billy protected you, but could he protect himself? You’d lost so much, that the idea of losing more was crippling.

Headlights flashed across the driveway, your heart rate picked up, as the car shut off and the sound of a door being opened and closed could be heard.

You could hear his feet on the gravel pathway leading up to the house.

You ran to the front door as it opened, and Billy stepped through. He looked tired, but when you pulled him down for an eager kiss, he hummed and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, nipping at your bottom lip.

You pulled back, “Welcome back, Billy.” You said, trying to mask your relief. But he could see. He could always see.

Billy nodded to Frank, before taking your hand and pulling you out of the house, and towards his Wraith.

“Missed you, baby.” He whispered in your ear, before ushering you into the passenger seat.

You relaxed as he walked around the car and got in, starting it up. You admired him as he turned the heat on for you.

He was back. He was safe.

I just scrolled through and saw your update. I'm so sorry for you loss, kat. I'm sending you all the love and hugs from here 💛

Thank you so much, it’s painful and strange. I’ve always lived with my mom. Never alone, and now I am fiercely the first time in 35 years. But my kitty Aspen helps, and all my of you on here. It makes me feel less alone. Like a warm hug. You don’t know how much I appreciate that. I only have one family member left and two godparents. They are all very distant. I haven’t talked to them all year, so it’s just me, Aspen, and my Tumblrinas. Which is wonderful I’ve met so many great people on here. 🩷♥️

blue moon.

( inspired by this YouTube video )

( a Monsters in the Dark Drabble. )

( @idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack )

x

It was raining, and an oldies station he knew you loved was playing as you laid curled in his bed, warm and sleepy while he smoked. His scent of vanilla and clean linen surrounded you.

His fingers touched your head sitting on the side of the bed, “Billy,” you mumbled, eyes fluttering as you reached for him with your eyes closed, wanting more of his touch.

He chuckled, knuckles brushing your cheek. “Sleepy, baby?” He hummed, taking a drag off his cigarette, and admiring how pretty you look wrapped in his sheets. Soft and warm, and inviting.

It made him fucking ache. You were his, not in a way of possession like had thought, but more in the way of you were his to care for, to protect, to love. Things he never thought possible of himself.

He always thought he was just some asshole who thought he could have the good things in life. Things he didn’t think he deserved.

But you always saw the good in Billy, even when he couldn’t see it himself. Your idealism often clashed with his cynicism. But he wouldn’t trade you for the world. His fingers stroked your face, and you yawned.

“Mhm,” you mumbled, pulling on him, your eyes half lidded. “Come to bed, Billy.” You said, sweetly. You tilted your head, pulling on him again. “Can’t sleep without you against my back.” You said, yawning again.

He stood up, kissing your forehead, before putting out his cigarette, and turning the music off, before he began to undress. It was the last thing you were aware of, besides his body pressing against your back, making you sigh.

You felt warm and safe in his embrace, and you clung to the feeling of happiness, a feeling so foreign to you.

But maybe it didn’t have to be.

Send this to ten other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going, make someone smile!!! ♡♡♡

Thank you, and I love ya, Ericca! 💜

you'll get the urge as an artist or a writer to say out loud the things you're worried about "the proportions are off" "kind of out of character" "i'm not good at summaries" "didn't get as much detail as i wanted" "i made a mistake and here's how" and that's the self-conscious part of your brain telling you "it's bad and if you don't tell them you know it's bad then they'll think you're stupid" but you've got to ignore that little voice and pretend you think it's good or else that little voice is going to ruin your life

Hot girls sleep with stuffed animals

Restart.

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.