listen. l i s t e n. listen. kudos does not equal quality. popularity does not equal quality. i have read some “fandom classics” that i could barely fathom how boring or terrible i - personally - found them, and i have stumbled across some absolute gems that didn’t even break 100 kudos.
what is good doesn’t always get the recognition it deserves. it’s sad, but true. just because you haven’t - or possibly never take - off in fandom doesn’t mean your work isn’t astounding and beautiful, it doesn’t mean you should stop writing; it just means that a very select corner of the internet missed the diamond in the rough.
fanfiction is flooded with content, there are so many of us out there producing it these days, and having a fic that takes off is almost as much about luck as it is about talent. never let a few artificial numbers on the internet dictate to you what is and isn’t worthy writing.
additionally, you don’t have to read or enjoy fics just bcs they’re big. i cannot count the amount of times i’ve read the first paragraph of something fandom adores and immediatly exited out of it.
just… do what makes you happy. write what you wanna write, read what you wanna read. understand that while we all want recognition - and some deserve it more than others - we did not get into fanfiction for that recognition.
recognition is good, but sometimes we get all tangled up chasing it and stop enjoying writing and reading and fandom as a whole along the way. be careful of that, please, or you’ll burn yourself out.
Monsters in the Dark #17
Blood, death, canon typical violence, kissing, oral (m receiving), dark fluff, dark themes, mentions of Billy’s abuse by Arthur, f/reader.
He’d appeared at the penthouse as winter waned into spring. The birds were chirping and making nests, and you’d felt lighter with Billy lately. Happy. It was a strange thing. You’d never been particularly happy.
You’d always been discontented to some degree, but things were different with Billy.
It was Arthur, he’d introduced himself, an old man playing the part of frailty. Of sweetness that left a bitter taste on your tongue. Billy was at work but you knew he’d be home soon, and your mind reeled.
You didn’t want Billy to have to face this man again. You were fiercely protective of Billy.
“Billy and I, we had a misunderstanding.” He said, back to you looking at a piece of art on the wall. “But he’s done well for himself, I see.”
You felt anger spark at his comment. That him abusing and destroying Billy’s arm was a misunderstanding.
“Billy is strong, hardship made him who he is.” You said, closing in on him.
“Oh, yes. Beautiful though, isn’t he?” Arthur asked, nearing the art presumably to see who made it.
As if Billy was a piece of art. Dehumanizing him. “Do you like beautiful little boys, Arthur?” You asked, darkly. It was so strange for your sweet personality to be tinged with this darkness, but this man had deeply hurt the man you loved. The man who would kill for you.
Arthur turned around at your tone, presumably to defend himself, as you raised a knife Billy had given you for self defense, and sunk it into Arthur’s throat.
Surprise flitted across his face. You didn’t exactly have a dangerous aura. He hadn’t expected it.
You weren’t Billy, and murder wasn’t something you were familiar with, so blood sprayed and made an awful mess over you, and the floor, and the wall.
He gurgled, holding his neck.
You brought the knife down. Again and again. It became easier with each strike. You didn’t stop until he laid in the kitchen, dead.
It was a bloody mess, but Billy was avenged.
x
Oh, god. What have you done?
You’d just taken a life. You felt sick as you kneeled by Arthur’s body, almost in a trance, knife hung limply in your hand.
You heard speaking as though you were underwater, before you were shaken. “Sweetheart!” It was Billy.
You looked up at him slowly, eyes glassy but clearing. “He can never hurt Billy again.” You said reaching for your lover.
Billy fisted your hair in his hand, pulling your mouth to his roughly. He tasted the tang of blood on your lips.
The kitchen was a mess.
“I made a mess,” you mumbled distantly.
“I don’t give a fuck.” Billy said, wiping your face with a cloth.
“I made trouble for you. But I wanted to protect Billy like he protects me.” You explained, as he pulled you up.
You wobbled on your legs as Billy stared at you.
No one had attempted to avenge Billy. Frank always had his back, but he’d never gone after Arthur.
You were so soft, it was hard to imagine you stabbing Arthur over and over again.
Billy’s heart burned for you. “I got some people that will clean up the mess. Don’t worry about it.” He said pulling towards the bathroom.
“Billy is mad?” You asked, softly. Almost sounding small.
“Never, sweet pea. I’m just—“ he didn’t know how to put it into words. You were brave for wearing your heart on your sleeve, even surrounded by ravenous wolves like himself.
Billy couldn’t. He wasn’t so free with his heart. It was hard for him to put his feelings into words.
“I’d do it again, Billy.” You say stripping off your bloody clothes.
Billy licks his lips looking at you, aroused by what you’ve done. By your soft body.
“And I’d love you for it stronger each time, baby.” Billy said, stripping out of his own clothes, sitting his gun aside on the countertop.
You both climbed into the shower, where Billy washed your hair, making buzz with contentment. His nails felt heavenly on your scalp.
You turned to face him, pressing your lips to his, before looking at him; “Can I touch you, Billy?” You asked, sweetly.
Billy groaned, and nodded.
You dropped to your knees.
Fuck.
He was already hard.
You stroked him, kissing his length, before taking him in your mouth. You teased the tip with your tongue, before taking him all the way in.
You gagged a little, as he grabbed your hair, pulling.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Billy hissed, rolling his hips into your mouth, cock pulsing in your mouth.
Your mouth felt heavenly.
Murder and sex, a heady combination.
You hollowed out your cheeks, sucking harder and faster.
Billy’s toes curled, and he barely recognized his gasps and moans.
You let your tongue run along the vein on the underside of his cock, making him jerk. “Minx,” he growled.
“Love worshiping your cock, Billy.” You purred, teasing him with your tongue.
He pulled on your hair, forcing you to take him all the way in again. You choked, swallowing around him.
“I’m gonna—“ he said, breathing heavily.
He let go then, cumming into your mouth, and you swallowed every drop.
Billy leaned against the shower wall, sated and drowsy now.
He shut the water off, wondering when you’d become so strong.
He was really fucking proud of you. You’d avenged him, a far cry from the girl crying at his bedroom door, begging to sleep with him.
x
That night you both laid dozing quietly while a spring rain seemed to wash away all the dirt and grime into the city gutters.
You imagined filth like Arthur being washed away. You knew he was just one of many child abusers. But at least he was one less.
Billy’s lips brushed your forehead. He didn’t know how to tell you he was happy. He wasn’t mad. He was relieved Arthur was gone.
He was infatuated with the fact you avenged him.
It was all so much.
“You make me happy,” he said, almost cringing at the words. He didn’t do soft. He didn’t do sappy. But he needed you to know.
“Billy makes me happy, too.” You said, kissing his neck.
He relaxed.
It just cemented the idea that you were his.
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.”
—the monsters make me hide, perhaps I’ll eat myself alive.
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. ♥️😘
The good feeling when a little cat rests their head against you like you’re a pillow is actually pretty significant
him grabbing ur thigh while he is driving >>>
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.
36. | because we are living in a material world, and I am a material kitty. | my cat, probably. Masterlist I
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