{Monsters In The Dark #5}

How I’m Imagining You.

A Monsters in the Dark Drabble.

Warnings; sexual fantasy, sexism, misogynistic ideas, religious/spiritual abuse, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate

Monsters in the Dark Masterlist

x

You were drawn to Billy like a moth to a flame, but your strict religious upbringing made shame descend, making your neck prickle as though God himself was watching. As though he’d cared about some nobody girl hung up on her roommate.

For a while, you allowed yourself to indulge in sin, as you laid in his bed and fantasized about his kiss, his mouth on you, and his beard scratching your thighs. How his cock would feel in your hands, like velvet steel.

The way he’d taste on your tongue, the feel of him in your mouth, heavy on your tongue, how he’d make your jaw ache in the best way. How he’d fuck your throat.

“You’re ruined for me, aren’t you baby?” You could hear him say in your head, making you press your thighs together. He’d laugh; “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Your cheeks were hot, and you ached between your thighs, desperate for his touch.

“Where do you want me, pretty girl?”

He was your hallelujah, amen. You wanted to worship him; you were sure he’d make you see God.

Your foster mother always warned of passion, of it snares.

“Why buy the cow if he can get the milk for free?”

As though women were cattle to be sold, a commodity. As though marriage was all they were good for. Pleasure was for men, childbearing was for women. You remembered the first time you touched yourself, she’d caught you and beat you with a rod.

“Spare the rod, spoil the child.” She used to walk around saying, making sure all the children behaved.

His bedroom door opened and you jumped, “Want some takeout, baby?” Billy asked, raising an eyebrow at you. You looked like you’d gotten caught with your hand in the cookie jar. You were supposed to be taking a nap.

You nodded, cheeks warm.

You left his room with him, aching.

But that was what you got for thinking impure thoughts.

The self flagellation felt good.

haha the new PFP, I love it. 🐈 🍷

Thank you, Dove! ♥️ My two favorite things, cats and wine. He looks like he’s got off from a hard days work, and is done with everyone’s bullshit. 😂

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."

-Homer, from The Odyssey, -700

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My Jack Skellington pillow. I sleep with it every night, lol.

Playing video games with my mom. We love to play Lord of the Rings Online, among others.

Iced Coffee. Caramel Macchiato.

Rainy days. Those are the best days.

The LOTR movies.

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~Kat 💜

In the Darkness

A Drabble set in the Monsters in the Dark universe.

—fluff, fear of abandonment and attachments, kissing, fem!reader—

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

You were pressed against Billy on his bed, giggling. “I think all nursery rhymes have the same tune.” You said, humming to yourself as if to test your own theory out.

It was out of the blue, but Billy thought it was cute.

His lips twitched, “Yeah?” He asked, playing with your hair.

“I used to drive my mom crazy singing Little Bunny Foo Foo growing up.” Your fingers were drawn to his hip where his scar was. Always drawn there.

Your thumb rubbed back and forth, liking the feeling of the scar tissue. You haphazardly scooted down, pressing your lips to the scar, tongue tracing it.

Billy’s fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you up, and pressed his mouth firmly to yours.

You made him want you.

x

Sometimes Billy wondered why he must be attached. It only led to heartache, to pain, to eventual abandonment.

He wondered why he couldn't cut you out. But you’d been so hated by your father, Billy couldn’t hurt you like that again.

Besides, you had nowhere to go.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

But as you laid there chattering sweetly about this and that, he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

He had already lost.

He was hopelessly attached to you.

He was yours and there was nothing he could do about it.

x

It was around two in the morning when you finally fell asleep, fingers still touching his scar, as though that grounded you.

You’d both obviously had difficult childhoods. You’d had a father who had never wanted you, and made sure you knew it every day, so you’d turned inward; discovering books and reading quietly for hours.

A father that hated you so much, he’d tried to kill you.

There was something to be said about having been hated by a parent, verses being abandoned by one like Billy.

He pressed his lips to yours.

It was in the darkness of his room that he allowed himself to love you for the first time.

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.”