{Monsters In The Dark #4}

Oh shit, this is them! 🥺 💕 I love this dynamic though. I’m such a slut for it. 😂 it makes me so happy you thought of them, though. 💜

thinking about the dynamic between the self-made cynic and the bleeding heart

“wtf is wrong with you”

you mean like today or like in general?

Croissant appreciation post. The beanie remains

What, are you a genius or something?

Aspen is affectionate this morning. 😍

You know, I’d have given you… the world.

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.

Monsters in the Dark #15

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

x

Billy and Frank were beautiful when they sparred, you thought sitting back watching with excitement tightening in your gut as they danced around each other.

You secretly thought Billy was more beautiful and graceful out of the two of them.

“Cute, huh?” Maria nudged you, a smile playing on her lips.

You grinned shyly, but your eyes didn’t stray from Billy for long.

Frank was like a bear, all raw power and rage, brute strength. Like a strong wave pulling you under.

But Billy? He was like a panther. Graceful and deadly, lithe and clever, all cool aloofness of a cat toying with a mouse.

They were perfectly matched, but Frank got him in the end. Billy grinned, shoving his friend playfully on the shoulder. It was the lightest you’d ever seen him.

His eyes sparkled when they caught your gaze. He sauntered over, sweaty and proud, his hair sticking to his face.

He gulped down some water, wrapping his free arm around your waist, pulling you to him.

Your heart fluttered, and you leaned up kissing him, teetering in your wedge shoes.

Billy hummed, squeezing your ass. “Billy Russo!” you playfully scolded him, and slapped his arm.

He smirked, but felt happy that you seemed more at ease than when he first got you.

He dropped his hand, and you looked at him sweetly, “Didn’t say you couldn’t touch me at all,” you told him petulantly.

He laughed, squeezing your hips, “Better?” He asked, amused.

You giggled, leaned against him, reaching around, and squeezing his ass.

Billy scoffed, “I’m a human being, baby. Not a piece of meat.” He teased you.

“All right, you two.” Frank called, “If you’re done grabbin’ each other, Bill and I got work to do.” He said, making Billy roll his eyes.

He saluted Frank mockingly, before giving you a kiss on the cheek and moving away.

You loved seeing Billy light hearted. It made you happy to see him happy.

DAMN! thirty four?!?! thats crazyyy sometimes i forget that older people too write fanfics

Hahaha, yeah. And I’ve been writing since I was fourteen. More people than you realize, are older that write fanfic. Fandom started back in the ‘60s and and ‘70s. There are people older than me in fandom. ;)

—Kat 💜