Oh Shit, This Is Them! 🥺 💕 I Love This Dynamic Though. I’m Such A Slut For It. 😂 It Makes

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.

Moodboards;

The monsters make me hide, perhaps I’ll eat myself alive.

My flower, withered between the pages two and three.

And it’s my whole heart.

I became insane.

Little House in the Big Woods.

Grandma’s house.

Powerful.

Character moodboards;

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.

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome.💌🥰🥰

Thank you, Kim! 🥰😍

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

—the monsters make me hide, perhaps I’ll eat myself alive.

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.”

christian dior haute couture f/w 2005

i used to feel the need to defend my love of villains by saying shit like "just because i like them doesn't mean i condone their actions" etc...

but now i'm just like: no no, they deserve a little murder and destruction, as a treat ✨😌

Moodboards.

@violetflamesx for my witchy and whimisgoth side blog. @esthers-wine for my fall/autumn themed sideblog. And @zeldafairy for my fic recommendations!

Billy Russo;

Series;

Monsters in the Dark Masterlist

Drabbles;

The Wolf.

Diet Mountain Dew.

Jasmine.