Billy Russo Has Done Nothing Wrong, Ever, In His Entire Life.

So… the hubby did a thing 🥰🥰🥰

Hee 💕 @munsonownsmyass @k-marzolf @kayhi808 @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @iamgettingalife @e-dubbc11 @dreamlandcreations

Hope this wasn’t creepy! I just loved how everyone’s piccrew icons turned out ☺️

PS Only a mockup. Vertigo logo used for illustration purposes only 😅

{Sunshine}

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone.

A Drabble set in the Monsters in the Dark universe.

Kissing, soft dark!Billy, soft dark!fluff, possessive behavior, mentions reader having braids, fem!reader.

143 words.

+++

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11

Billy tugged on your braids, handing you your iced coffee at the bookstore. “Say thank you, sweet pea. Gimme a kiss.” He husked.

You chewed your lip, before reaching up on your tippy toes, and kissing him softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. He tasted bitter like the black coffee he drank.

“Good girl.” He purred against your mouth.

Oh, you wanted to be his good girl.

“C’mon, baby. I’ll buy you a true crime novel.” He said, slipping his hand into yours, pulling you along, not missing how your eyes lit up.

“Can I have two?” You asked sweetly.

Billy clicked his tongue; “Greedy girl. But you’re cute baby, so I’ll get you two.” He teased you.

You reached up, and kissed his cheek.

He chuckled.

This was why you were his, even if you didn’t know it yet. But you would.

It's always so uplifting to see tha you have posted some of your fiction 🤩

Thank you, my friend. I really appreciate you. It’s uplifting to see you in my notes when I post something. ♥️😘

Monsters in the Dark #7

Religious guilt and abuse, cutting (past), mentions of canon typical violence, sexism, kissing, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, possessive behavior, idolatry, protective!Billy, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

You woke up startled, wrapped in his silk sheets, finding Billy laying next to you on the bed, playing with your hair. His eyes were like pits as he watched you quietly. He was almost too quiet, deadly calm.

You waited for him to speak, his nose brushed your cheek, his breath tickling your neck. You sighed, eyes fluttering.

“I maimed a man last night. I cut his fingers off.” Billy said matter of fact, like he was discussing the weather. “He threatened you.” He said, almost seething at the memory.

Despite the admission of violence, you felt warmth bloom in your chest. He often reminded you of your mother, who had killed your father and died to protect you. She was a hard woman like Billy, but like Billy she’d been soft for you.

His nails scraped down your spine, and you whined, scooting closer to him. His lips turned upwards, a dark chuckle leaving his mouth, “Do you like pain, sweet pea?”

You didn’t answer, feeling an ache between your thighs as he pressed harder into your spine. “Asked you a question.” He said, making you look at him.

Pain and pleasure went hand in hand for you, as if the pain absolved you of the sin of pleasure. “Yes.” You whispered, making him hum.

He settled between your legs, your t-shirt riding up your stomach. He noticed silvery scars along your thighs, and shame flooded you, “What are these?” He asked, tracing them.

“I grew up in a strict religious home. Women’s pleasure was taboo and sinful. Pleasure was for men. Every time I touched myself, and got pleasure from it, I’d cut myself for my sin.” You admitted, quietly.

Billy frowned, “If women aren’t supposed to enjoy sex, why did God create you so you can?” He asked, tilting his head.

“I don’t know,” you answered you hadn’t thought about it.

“The Bible was written by old men to control women.” Billy said, eyeing your pussy. You were soaked from the pain he’d given you earlier. You could still feel his nails on your spine, and you ached for him.

He didn’t give you a chance to answer, he dipped his head, mouth latching onto your soaked pussy, making you whine when he let his teeth scrape your clit. His tongue pressed at your entrance and you gasped, fingers sinking into his hair, pulling.

He groaned and it vibrated against you. He took his time, slowly working you up, making you writhe on his bed, begging for him. Your sweet sounds had him aching in his pants. His tongue swiped you roughly, and it only added to your pleasure.

“Billy,” you chanted, staring up at the ceiling as he showered you with the attention you’d craved since being in foster care, neglected and alone.

Your toes curled as he lapped sure and hard, his beard scratched your thighs, and you knew he was the closest to heaven you’d ever be. You came in his waiting mouth, shuddering and moaning.

He pulled back, wiping his mouth, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he looked at you.

x

His breath was ragged against your lips. Your heart ached at the beauty of him. You reached between the both of you, stroking him, thumb teasing the tip of his cock. “You’re so beautiful, Billy.” You said against his mouth, admiring his scarred body, the way his hair fell into his face. His want for you.

He gazed at you, and the sweet idolatry on your face knocked the breath from his lungs. You looked at him like he was God.

x

You were clawing at his back as he slammed into you, over and over again. And you knew you’d be bruised in the morning. You wouldn’t be touching yourself for a week. His mouth latched onto your breast, sucking and biting, making you clench around him. “Shit,” he groaned, pulling from your breast, and looking between you, “you’re so pretty stretched out on my cock.” Billy growled. “You were made to be mine.”

“Oh God.” You panted, feeling a pleasurable tingle down your spine, as you arched, his words making warmth flood your insides.

Here, you weren’t alone.

“God isn’t making you feel this way,” husked Billy, pulling your hair, and making you arch again. He was sweating, and the sounds you made had him close to coming undone.

“You’re the only God in my temple.” You breathed knowing your foster mother would condemn you for those words.

If she saw you now, her southern Baptist heart would fail her.

Your words were Billy’s undoing.

x

Billy watched the city lights from his penthouse window, fingers stroking your spine. You mumbled something in your sleep, and curled closer to him. The man who had threatened you to get to Billy, still making him seethe.

Billy’s grip on you tightened, he didn’t care how many motherfuckers he had to kill and maim. He’d protect you.

“do you really wanna be on that medication for the rest of your life :(?” yes actually I would love that. I know what I’m like off it

You cannot make everyone think and feel as deeply as you do. This is your tragedy … because you understand them, and they do not understand you.

Daniel Saint

Send to 10 other bloggers you think are wonderful. Keep this going to make someone smile! Add a heart so we know how long the chain's been going!💜💚💙💙💛💜💚🩷🤎🖤🧡💚💙💚

Right back at you, my friend. I appreciate your friendship a lot. And your writing is a bright spot for me! 🩶🩷

Lavender.

A Drabble set in the Monsters in the Dark universe.

Warnings; grumpy!Billy, dark themes, and hints of abuse from reader’s father, kissing, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate

Monsters in the Dark Masterlist

x

You came in excitedly, seeing Billy waiting at the door for you, arms crossed, “Billy—“

“It’s been raining cats and dogs outside. Where the fuck were you?” He growled, his worry translating to anger. He was not at all used to worrying after people.

You pulled off your coat. You were soaked through, dripping on the floor. “Getting you this,” you said softly, unconcerned with his temper, soft with him as always, pulling out a bundle of lavender. “It promotes sleep, if put under your pillows.” You said.

Fuck. You were so sweet.

His cheeks flushed, and he looked down. Your socks and everything were soaked from the downpour.

“C’mon.” He said shortly, making you follow him down the hall and into his room. Billy knew you were disorganized and had forgotten to do your laundry.

He pulled out a sweater and some sweatpants. “Put these on,” he said, before leaving the room.

While he waited his heart raced. He wasn’t sleeping well at all lately, and being a Marine he’d learned to go on very little sleep. But sometimes he wanted to sleep without the nightmares.

He usually ended up sitting up in the chair by the window, drinking whiskey.

But you’d thought of him, and spent your own money on him. It made him ache.

He peeked in, and saw your back as you put his sweater on. You were scarred terribly, it looked like you’d been stabbed. You turned as you pulled it down, smiling at him.

“Who hurt you?” Billy asked, trying not to be so aggressive, but whoever hurt you that badly deserved pain beyond comparison.

He helped you tie his sweatpants, they were falling off your hips, you watched him frowning, and wished to smooth the lines on his face.

You leaned against Billy after he’d tied them for you, “My daddy didn’t like me. But—“ you dug around in your bag and pulled out some chamomile tea. “This can help with sleep, too.” You said, watching his expression.

He was stunned. Most people weren’t thoughtful, they didn’t think of Billy. But you’d always thought of him, always wanting to take care of him, or dote on him.

But he hated your father for the scarring on you, he could only imagine what he’d done to make those scars.

Billy’s fingers cupped the back of your neck, pressing a kiss to your mouth, making you press closer eagerly.

“Thank you, sweet pea.” He said, hoarsely.

You smiled softly, “I can make you the tea before bed.” You said against his mouth.

“I’d like that.” He said, surprised by how violently he’d been taken with you, how badly he wanted you. You weren’t what he usually went for.

But when your eyes lit up, because he was going to let you make him some tea, he felt possessive of you. He kissed you again, and you encouraged him with your sweet sounds, the way your fingers tangled in his hair.

He was well and truly fucked.

OC/canon and selfships are good y’all are just scared of having fun

Croissant appreciation post. The beanie remains