{Monsters In The Dark #2}

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

I appreciate that, Ericca! I love you, girl. ♥️

Croissant appreciation post. The beanie remains

when a hot fictional man commits atrocities i’m like. where are your morals? where is your dignity? where do you live? when can i come over?

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.

freeze! ✧ ─=≡Σ((( つ•̀ω•́)つ you’re under arrest for being so lovely. copy this message to 10 other blogs (only if you want to) that you think are beautiful and deserve it. keep the game going and make others feel beautiful. 💓

You’re so sweet. Thank you, my friend.

ok no I'm still annoyed about what they've done to anne elliot. why must every heroine be beautiful, smart, confident, witty, flirtatious, funny, independent, firm-minded etc.?

what about shy women? humble women? lonely women? women who are just sad and a little bit pathetic? not firm enough to speak their mind? not strong enough to know their mind? who are riddled with anxiety and embarrassment? who have genuine faults and mistakes they regret but are too mortified to acknowledge? who know they are being taken advantage of but who keep sacrificing their own happiness to maintain the peace and reputation of their family? who are smart in their own way and happy with that even if it doesn't amount to anything that can be paraded around as a talent? do they not deserve to have their stories told?

I've had enough of snark!!!!! enough of smugness!!!! i wanna see a heroine who is so miserable and lonely and who feels everything so deeply and who yearns so bloody hard for years that she collapses when he finally gives her that letter!!! i want pathetic pining!! i want miserable social interactions!!! i want stolen glances and subtle questions and agonising despair until a confession so cathartic that i faint with her!!!! i want to feel something real!!!!!!!!! god!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My condolences for your loss. That must be a truly difficult time now. Wishing you all the support there could be and if there's anything I can do from far away, ask.

Thank you, my friend. I’m struggling. I’ll never hear her voice again, never hear her laugh, or have a good conversation with her, and it makes my heart hurt terribly.

There was this Good Samaritan, used to volunteer at the Ray of Hope Group Home. That’s where I was placed at the time. We used to play stickball, hoops, whatever. He’d been going there for years, I mean, we all thought he was so cool. I guess I must’ve been ten, eleven at the time. Let’s just say I wasn’t interested in the kind of games he had in mind.

hi, sorry, I just wanted to ask, and this is prolly going to sound super dumb, are authors chill with people commenting on their old fanfics and stuff?

just want to make sure that I'm not inadvertently being annoying

I believe I speak for most authors when I say they’ll never be annoyed by any positive comments from their readers

authors, reblog if you love receiving new comments on your old works