Thank You, Terry! I’ve Missed Writing. I Don’t Know Often I’ll Write, But I Miss Being Creative.

Monsters in the Dark #12

—dark themes, talks of Billy’s kill count, alcohol consumption, kissing, possessive behavior, fem!reader—

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

You were straddling his waist while he laid back on the bed, sharing a glass of wine with him, his cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. You couldn't help but admire him beneath you. His fingers danced across your thighs, making you hum. The rain pelted the window, and occasionally lightning lit the room up. Billy could tell you wanted to ask him something, but were too shy to ask.

"Spit it out, baby," said Billy, taking a cheeky sip from your wine glass. His obsidian eyes were shining with something dark. It excited you.

"Who was Billy’s first kill?" You asked finally, wiggling your hips making him hiss, his hands moving to your waist with a bruising grip, as you slowly rocked against him, enjoying the friction.

"A target over in Iraq. I don't even remember his name. But I sniped him from a rooftop." He told you, "I had nightmares for a while about it. Your first kill is always the hardest. I used to wonder who he was. Did he have a family? A wife? What made him a terrorist? But now I know to not let my thoughts go there, easier to kill when they're faceless."

You stroked his face, "Would you kill me if I became your enemy?" Your lips brushed his mouth, licking into it making him groan.

"You plan on bein' my enemy?" Hs teased, eyes fluttering at your soft touches.

"No, but what if I did?" You insisted, letting your fingers slip underneath his sweater, feeling his muscles twitch under your touch.

His fingers dug into your waist, as he rolled his hips into yours, making you keen with an ache for Billy alone. "I'd punish this pussy, make you see the error of your ways." He purred, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

"But what if I persisted?" You whined, as his fingers teased you.

You were suddenly flipped over, pinned beneath him. "You'll always be mine, no matter what. Even if I have to hold you in chains, pretty girl." His hands trapped your wrists as he rutted against your hips, making you moan.

"You promise?" You whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist, holding him to you.

"I promise."

{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.”

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.

Such a good swimmer

-Homer, from The Odyssey, -700

why do you delete things and repost them /gen i love all ur stuff and reread it happily

Because I tend to get embarrassed of my own writing, and delete it on impulse, and then end up regretting it once the feeling has passed. I’m Bipolar/BPD and I tend to let my feelings control me, and I can be very impulsive. Today, I’ve wanted to do nothing but delete my whole profile and fade from the internet. I’m trying to remind myself the feeling will fade. But it’s hard when the emotion feels like it’s dragging me under. 😔 I’m glad you love my stuff, it means a lot because I’m often extremely self critical.

-Kat💜

Monsters in the Dark #20

Death, angst/fluff, dark themes, mentions of abandonment and issues surrounding it, bitterness, kissing, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

x

The graveyard was cold as winter waned into spring. The ground was muddy, and Billy hated how it ruined his pristine dress shoes.

You were standing next to him, arm wrapped around his elbow as he stared at the fresh grave marker, “Carla Russo,” it read above the dates of her birth and death.

You looked up at him, “Are you sad?” You asked softly, gripping him tighter as you readjust on the soft ground. You were sinking a little.

Billy’s lip curled, “No. She didn’t care about my life, I don’t care about her death. It’s just a relief not to have to pay for her hospital bills.” Billy admitted, a bitter tone to his voice.

He hated that he was so bitter, but once again she had abandoned him, this time by dying. Billy hated that he felt abandoned, he thought he was over this.

But he felt like a boy again, standing at that fire station asking when she was coming back. He wanted to shatter the grave marker. He wanted to hate her, but deep down he knew he’d been hoping up until the day she’d died that she’d want a relationship with him.

I’m a goddamn fool, he thought.

You laid your head on his arm for a moment as you both stood there in silence. The wind blew and Billy wondered silently if she was free from her addiction. A big part of him hoped her soul was trapped here, still in the grips of it.

It seemed too kind for her to receive peace after abandoning her child.

“Billy’s pain could be mine, if he wanted.” You said, drawing his gaze down to you. “I would take it all into me if I could, but I could at least share in it?” You asked sweetly.

Billy swallowed. You were the only reminder of anything good in this cold world. The one thing that made him believe in anything good.

He turned to you, cupping your face in his gloved hands, before kissing you, as if you could share in his pain. And maybe you could, because standing there in the crisp spring morning, he felt just a little bit better with you standing next to him.

When he pulled back, he nudged your nose with his. “You already do, baby.” He squeezed your hand, “Let’s go home. I’m freezing my balls off out here.”

You giggled, “Can we have hot chocolate?” You asked, following him carefully out of the muddy cemetery.

Billy smiled, “Sure, baby.”

His heart felt lighter with you by his side.

Friendly reminder to all the writers on here:

You don’t owe anyone good writing.

You don’t owe anyone a complete storyline written in order.

You can jump around. You can abandon projects. You can write really shitty stories! Writing is about telling stories and creating worlds. Not about what makes your followers happy.

I have to remind myself of this a lot, because in most of my stories I’ve gotten stuck and don’t know where to go. But you can jump around. You can skip parts. It doesn’t matter.

Write what makes you happy.

when hozier said "i'd burn every soul i knew if i thought the fire was warming you" and when he said "no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her" and when he said "i'm so full of love i can barely eat"