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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.

Bloody

a Monsters in the Dark Drabble;

—blood, violence—

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate

Monsters in the Dark Masterlist

The first time you got a glimpse of Billy’s tendencies for violence, was when he came home one evening covered in blood. You’d come bounding around the corner to greet him, only to stop dead in your tracks.

You moved closer to him, Billy tracking your every move, like you were a scared rabbit who was going to run.

“Are you afraid, baby?” Billy asked, moving towards you, in his tactical gear, pulling his gloves off. You were in only his t-shirt.

“No, Billy.” You said honestly, surprised by how much his visage excited you, made you want to kiss him, taste the tang of blood on his tongue.

He reminded you of your mother, fierce. The last time you saw her she was covered in blood, defending you. For you violence equated to love in some way. You didn’t ask why he was covered in blood, who he’d killed, because you were so sure Billy would never hurt you, and that you were selfish no matter what he thought.

“Yeah?” He asked, stalking towards you, baring his teeth. “You like monsters?” He taunted softly.

“Billy’s my monster.” You said, pressed against him, fingers clinging to the fabric of gear.

Billy’s mouth was on yours, making sigh, wrapping your arms around Billy, staining your shirt red with a dead man’s blood.

“I could clean you up,” you said, when he pulled back, kicking off his boots.

He gave you a wry grin. “Sure, sweetheart.”

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. ♥️

Monsters in the Dark #21

Nightmares, ptsd, mentions of canon typical violence, dark themes, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

x

You were drowsy that night, curled against Billy while he cleaned his ka-bar. You watched him, eyelids drooping. “How many people has Billy killed with that?” You asked, scooting closer.

“Too many to count.” Billy said, wiping the blade. He looked dangerous holding it, the way the blade gleamed in his hand. The casual way he handled it, and twirled it.

It excited you.

“I’m a monster.” Billy said, though not self deprecating at all. He sounded darkly amused.

“Billy’s my favorite monster.” You said, playing with his sweater, twirling a loose thread around your finger.

“Oh, baby. You’re my favorite angel.” He said, pinching your cheeks.

You giggled, before yawning halfway through your giggle. “Time for bed, sweet pea?” He asked, setting his knife down.

“Wanna be with you a little longer.” You said, yawning again.

Billy’s heart burned for you. You reminded him so much of the boy he was; sweet, trusting, loving. He remembered following his mother everywhere, to her annoyance, clinging to her clothes.

Billy wanted to protect your heart. Even from himself.

He kissed your forehead, watching you.

“Sometimes I dream that I’m in those woods again,” you said, “waiting for my mom. And if I look close enough the trees and the branches look like monsters in the dark.” You continued.

Billy listened quietly. It was the first time you had spoken of your nightmares.

“They pull on me, on my clothes, trying to drag me deeper into the woods, tearing at my skin. I always wait for God, but He never comes. But you know who does?” You asked, looking up at him.

Billy swallowed.

“Billy. Billy comes. And I always take his bloody hand, and we go away, away into the darkness. And then, I’m finally safe in his arms.” You said, softly.

Billy crushed you to him, and tucked you under his chin, and his treacherous heart blazed.

You both sat like that for some time, enjoying each other’s company, feeling full there.

There was never going to be a time that Billy wouldn’t come for you.

do you think cats hear you calling for them, and just smugly stay put because they’re amused by you running around looking for them?

or they’re petty because you didn’t give them chicken??

she was fr mad at me for not giving her chicken off my plate.

Hozier, Francesca ("Unreal Unearth")

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.

Monsters in the Dark #14

—attempted assault, blood, canon typical violence, mentions of an attempt of reader’s life, trauma, flashbacks, ptsd, fem!reader—

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

You were terrified as you hid in Billy’s closet, listening to them ransack the penthouse, your hands over your ears.

Memories resurfaced of you hiding in the woods, bloody and afraid, waiting for your mother who never came.

Your father had taken her from you.

You were shaking when one of them opened the door, finding you crouching amongst Billy’s clothes and shoes.

“What do we have here?” He said roughly, grinning and grabbing your arm and yanking you out.

You tried to claw at his face, trying to get away, screaming. He slapped you so hard your head turned, and your heart raced.

You were going to die or worse.

x

He had you pinned on the bed, pawing at you. You had tried kicking him several times, but he hit you twice. “Be good, girlie. You might even enjoy it.” He gave you a sinister smile.

“If you have to force women into bed, you can’t be that good!” You sassed him.

He backhanded you again. You were sure you’d bruise tomorrow; “Watch your mouth,” he growled, ripping your shirt open, making buttons fly. “Need to teach you a lesson in respect.”

You spat on his face, as Billy stormed in looking furious. You felt relief swell in your chest. The intruder let go of you, seeing Billy covered in his comrades blood. He looked like a god of war, covered in his enemies blood, fury written across his face.

Billy struck as fast as a snake, slicing your attacker's throat with his hidden blade, over and over again, until bone and sinew showed, and his blade stuck out of his neck at an odd angle. The intruder gurgled over you, spraying you with blood, holding his throat before collapsing on the bed next to you.

x

Billy hummed, watching you reach for his face, wiping the blood off his lip with your fingers, almost mesmerized by him and his violent visage, her eyes dilated. Aroused by his killing of another.

It aroused him. God, you were perfect for him, he thought.

His face no longer held the fury at someone touching you. He looked gentle now.

Like your mother when she shot her husband, and then turned to you. A fierce warrior turned gentle caretaker.

Images churned in your head, the sounds of Chopin, the smell of freshly baked apple pie, a pristine white piano splattered with blood, and your mother wiping your face.

“Mama wiped my face,” you said suddenly, voice soft. You’ve told him before, but it felt good to talk about it.

Billy looked at you, obsidian eyes warm. “I was playing Prelude in A Major, op. 28 no. 7. Chopin. I missed a note. Daddy was angry.” You recalled, trembling.

Billy lips brushed your head, “You could play for me, if you wanted.” He said. There’s a piano in the penthouse. You’d always looked at it longingly, but fear always took over. What if you missed a note?

You shook, fear at missing a note taking over again, and even though you knew Billy would never hurt you like your father; you were still afraid. “Don’t want to.” You mumble into his chest, clutching his dress shirt in your hands, noticing specks of blood on it.

Billy hummed, “When you’re ready then, baby.” He fixed your hair, tucking it behind your ear. The same hands that have shed blood violently, treated you like you’re porcelain. Treasured.

You wanted him to know he was treasured too, but the words don’t come; words had always been difficult for you.

He set the cloth aside, helping you out of your bloody clothes, and handing you one of his t-shirts. You sniffed it. It smelled delightfully like Billy, you couldn’t put your finger on what the scent was, probably his detergent, but it was comforting.

You laid with him that night after his men cleaned the mess up, his touch grounding you as he stroked your spine. “I hope we can be together forever.” You mumbled sleepily, fingers playing with the scar on his hip. You couldn’t stand the thought of losing Billy, you’d lost so much.

Your fingers dug into his hips, as if by might you could keep him by your side. That by your own power he’d never disappear if you just held onto him tightly enough.

Billy held you tighter, too.

If Billy had his say, you would be together forever, even if he had to drag you down to the underworld with him, like Hades took Persephone.

His grip on you tightened further.

Forever.

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."

Hey all, a little update—

My mom passed. She’d had Covid been cleared and then home. Two and a half weeks later, she’s gone. I woke up to find her cold and unresponsive.

But I’m probably gonna keep writing as a comfort to me. But I don’t know how often. I might just share random thoughts and posts.

I’m just really sad right now.

@e-dubbc11 @terry2227 @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @bookloverfilmoholic @snowkestrel @kayhi808 @aoi-targaryen @firexfate @ittybxttykxttytxtty