Astonishing How Good It Can Feel To Get Some Chores Done Sometimes. You’ll Be Sitting There Like Damn

Hi! Dove here on my main.

What's the location in your dashboard photo? It's beautiful!

Hi, Dove! 💜

I found it on Pinterest, it was taken in Portland, Maine. It is very beautiful. I love Lighthouses, and Nautical themes. :)

ppl who don't get cats will try to argue that cats don't love you meanwhile cats will cry and cry and cry and cry like the world is ending until you hold them like a baby and give them a kissy on their perfect lil forehead

{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.

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@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.

Hearts in her eyes post bite.

Monsters in the Dark #19

Dark themes, ptsd, nightmares, abandonment issues, language, fear, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

x

Billy tossed and turned, a cold sweat breaking out over his body. He couldn’t find you. His heart raced, as adrenaline coursed through him. He called for you and called for you. Nothing. He ran around an abandoned looking hotel, frantic. The silence was deafening.

He tried to calm himself, use tactics that they’d taught him in the Marines, but he was too frantic.

Attachments were a weakness, and he’d created his own with you.

Sometimes it looked like you’d ghosted around a corner, but you were never there. All he heard was the whistling of the wind. It was maddening.

Billy woke up gasping for air, and reaching across the bed for you. It was empty.

He wiped sweat from his brow.

Fuck.

What if it was real? What if someone had taken you? He remembered climbing into bed with you, but nothing felt real right now.

He threw the duvet off, bolting out of the bedroom. There you stood in the kitchen at the fridge, a spoon in your mouth as you looked up at him, innocently.

“Billy?” You asked, pulling the spoon out of your mouth.

He moved around the island countertop, and grabbed you, crushing you to him. His heart rate returned to normal, feeling your very real form against him.

“What’s wrong, Billy?” You asked, letting him hold you, peeking up at him.

Billy licked his lips; “Couldn’t find you,” he rasped, clinging to you. “I don’t believe in fairytale endings, life has proven time and again that nothing lasts forever. I know someday we’ll be parted from each other, but I thought it came sooner than I expected.” Billy explained, hating how desperate he sounded. He hated being weak.

“Don’t say that. I’ll fight Heaven and hell itself to make sure we’re together forever. Never gonna let Billy go.” You whispered, clinging to the spoon in your hand, and to him.

God, you made him want to believe in forever. But it had never been proven to Billy. He remembered getting free ice creams from this kind older black man when he was still in the group home. But one day he died because he’d gotten shot accidentally in a drive by.

The one person who cared about Billy had been cruelly ripped from him. Billy just knew someday you’d be ripped from him just like Mr. Avery.

That his enemies would either kill you, or old age or illness would take you, or maybe you’d just leave someday, tired of him.

Billy kissed you, fingers digging into your hips. “You swear?” He rasped.

“I swear. I’m with Billy until only death parts us.” You said, and waved the spoon in his face. “Want some ice cream?” You grinned trying to lighten the mood.

Billy smiled, relaxing. “Yeah, baby.” He hummed, “I’d love some.”

So there the two of you ended up, at half past two in the morning, sharing ice cream.

For now, Billy was content not to think about the past or the future, but to just enjoy the moment with you.

For now.

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.

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

💜💜💜💜 aaaaa, I needed this today. Thank you, Kim!!

“When the band went to London, Nicks scoured the flea markets in Chelsea and on Portobello Road for Victorian lace — “the real deal,” she says. At five foot one, Nicks likes anything with volume that gives her more stage presence, like the endless shawls and scarves she spreads wide into wings. (Among the boxes packed for her spring tour, there’s a giant bin marked Stevie’s saris.) And, along with the platforms, that iconic top hat added height. “I found a top hat at a thrift store in Buffalo, New York, on our first tour, and I loved it,” she says. “Now I have several. It really became part of my look.” 

 Harpers Bazaar, 2011

I love seeing your name in my notifications, too, my friend. ♥️ I feel like I’m enjoying writing again after my break. More ideas without pressuring myself to write every day.

jasmine.

I actually wrote something new and long (for me). I was doing dishes when I got inspired. Please note this is explicit. So under 18s please shoo.

Bffs to lovers, fatphobia, plus size reader, mentions of alcohol, aspectrum!Billy, oral (f receiving), language, possessiveness, fem!reader.

1.2k+.

Tagging; @e-dubbc11 @terry2227 @kayhi808 @firexfate @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @snowkestrel @aoi-targaryen @thejanecampaign @danzer8705

Billy wasn’t watching his best friend discreetly, watching you laugh at that fuck boys joke as if he wasn’t trying to get into your pants, as if he could ever treat you like the treasure you were. Billy hadn’t wanted to go to the bar tonight. He wanted to be with you at home.

Was it too much to ask that you spend Friday night at his apartment watching the Witcher and drinking wine as you got progressively drunker, leaning into him making him feel all kinds of warm.

He wasn’t thinking of how you smelled of jasmine, and the warmth of your skin, and how he’d like to feel your thick thighs squeezing his face.

He shot, and the ball went into the hole, and Billy decided then he would have you.

He just had to get rid of Ryan.

You stepped into the unisex bathroom, wishing you’d just gone over to Billy’s tonight. You weren’t sure you could take another “make me a sandwich” joke. Or the way he kept trying to fondle you under the table like you were a piece of meat.

“Lucky I found ya, no one wants a fatty.” You’d shrunk when he said that, thinking of Billy.

Ryan had been eying a pretty redhead anyway, you weren’t stupid. He thought you were a charity case.

You looked up as you took a step into the bathroom. Ryan had the pretty young redhead pinned against the wall, aggressively making out with her.

He looked up at you, his face smeared with sparkly pink lip gloss and his hair mussed up, and she had her leg around his hip.

You walked out, heart aching.

You wandered over to Billy two hours later after glass after glass of wine at the bar, eyes downcast. “Hey, mouse.” He hummed, throwing an arm around your shoulders, pool stick in his hand.

You leaned against his side. “Can we go to your apartment and have wine, and play rummy?” You asked, nudging his side playfully, a giggle escaping.

Billy scoffed, eyebrows raising, “So you can cheat?” He said, downing his whiskey.

“Mhm. Then we can cuddle.” You said into his sweater, squeezing his hips. He smelled like vanilla, comforting and familiar.

“Is that what we do?” He husked, lips turning up, and eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Absolutely. You’re better than my teddy bear, Mr. Snuffles.” You tilted your head up at him, leaning on your tippy toes, kissing the corner of his mouth.

You didn’t need to tell him twice.

You dug through his pockets to his amusement as you both stood in the elevator. You were such a child.

But you found what you were looking for, a sweet caramel candy he always kept in his pockets.

“There’s a candy tax on that.” Billy said as you unwrapped it.

You looked up, eyes wide, pausing; “Tax?” You asked, leaning closer.

“Yeah. I need one kiss for that.” He said, straight faced.

You giggled, and leaned against him, kissing him, your mouth parted, tasting whiskey and nicotine.

His fingers slid into your hair, stealing your breath with the way he kissed you, like you were desirable.

When he pulled back you were both breathless. The elevator dinged and you pulled him out into the hallway, an ache between your thighs that threatened to set you on fire.

He set his keys down on the counter, turning the lights on in the penthouse.

“Billy?” You asked from behind him.

“Hmm?” He asked, turning to you, shrugging out of his coat.

“I want you.” You said, “I keep looking for you in other men, but I can’t find it.” You spoke in a rush, eyes not quite looking at him.

Billy paused, “You know I’ll give you anything you want, mouse.” His voice was low, warm even. “But I might not wanna give you back.”

Your eyes came to life, as you pulled him down for another kiss.

“Can I taste you?” You asked in between kisses, lying on his bed, his leg between your trembling thighs. You instinctively rubbed on him, trying to find some relief.

Billy hummed, “I’d rather eat you out, sweet pea.” He said, stroking your thighs, before flipping you over onto the bed, and caging you in against the pillows as you squeaked.

He hated being touched. He preferred to give rather than receive if it was with someone he cared about. Ever since Arthur, he’d hated touch. Sex with previous lovers had been a tool, but he’d hated it. He didn’t want it to be that way with you. You, who always got him a new stuffed animal every time you went to a department store. You, who always held his hand in your lap on car rides, playing with the silvery scars on his palm, feeding his need for casual intimacy that wasn’t sex.

“Lay back, imma take care of that needy cunt.” He teased you, eyes darkly inviting.

His dark eyes threatened to swallow you whole. You hoped someday he’d let you touch him, to taste him. But god, as he dragged your hips across the bed to devour you, you were sure he’d ruin you.

“Let me see what you taste like between my teeth, mouse,” he husked as you tried to pull your dress back down, laying in his silk sheets, drunk off his kisses and wine.

It brought back all the fantasies you’d had of Billy. Of the dark figure who forced your pleasure from you, who’d taunted you about enjoying your own ruination. You tangled your fingers in Billy’s dark hair, trembling as his beard scratched your thighs.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer, burying his face in your warm, wet heat. “Oh, god.” You mumbled, toes curling looking up into the lights that seemed all too much and too bright. You looked away.

“Yeah?” He husked, fingers teasing your slick folds, eyes dark like pits. The tip of his tongue teased you, making you whine. He laughed when you pushed his head back down, wrapping your thighs around his head.

You barely recognized your hitching gasps and moans as you rode his face, and he growled, “This pussy’s mine. No one gets to taste it but me.”

He looked up at you, face glistening with your arousal. “Isn’t that right, mouse?” He asked, voice dangerously soft. He let his teeth scrape your clit, and you saw stars, unable to stop the powerful climax that ripped through you.

He watched you doze in his arms, while he played with your hair, a longing in his chest that had threatened to consume him satisfied for now. A contentment stirring within him making him drowsy. His eyes were hooded, as he gazed at you with something he wasn’t ready to put a name to just yet.

He’d always wanted more, more, more. But you satisfied some part of him that had thirsted for love, a part he’d long denied himself, but your tenderness had him hooked on you, never having received that in foster care. His foster father in particular had been hard, often using a belt on Billy whenever he’d disappointed him.

He’d never liked being touched, especially after his sexual abuse, and sex had been his tool to get what he wanted from lovers. But not so with you. But still, he’d rather give to you than receive.

His eyes closed. You were his. He had something of his own.