Monsters In The Dark #15

“She thought to herself, "This is now." She was glad that the cozy house, and Pa and Ma and the firelight and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.”

— Laura Ingall’s Wilder, Little House in the Big Woods

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.

shared;

Roommates, jealousy, soft!reader, dacryphilia, kissing, drunk!reader, alcohol consumption, fem!reader.

A Drabble set in the Monsters in the Dark universe.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

x

“I think Billy’s fucking someone,” Karen had said to Maria, who laughed as you all shared wine, whiskey, and takeout.

“When isn’t he?” She asked, grabbing a crab roll. Neither of them seemed to notice you retreat into yourself, drinking heavier than usual, and eating very little. You wanted Billy to yourself, and your stomach was sick at the thought that your roommate would never be yours. Curtis would tell you that you were being a fool, you thought in a drunken haze.

Later that night, you were laying in Billy’s bed. It smelled like him, and you were drunk from all of the wine and whiskey that you’d had, and you were so needy when you were drunk.

You felt the bed shift, and a pair of arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You sniffed, feeling his hard body against yours. Your throat burned from how hard you were trying not to cry.

“Don’t wanna share you,” you complained softly, wiggling in his grip.

Billy reached over you, and turned your face, holding onto your jaw tight. “Baby, who would you have to share me with?” He asked, squeezing you. His brows were drawn together seeing your distress.

You wiggled again, rolling around to face him. He was watching you through dark eyes, looking at you intensely as he usually did. Like he wanted to devour you. And you wanted to let him. To let him have his way with you. You wanted to be his best girl. “Wanna make love to you,” you blurted through tears, heart aching, and instantly regretted it, feeling embarrassment descend. Damn being drunk.

Billy raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” He husked, tongue darting out to taste your tears, making you whine. It made him feral. God, you were sweet. “Is that what you girls talked about?”

“Yeah.” You whispered feeling your throat constricting, “About who you’re fucking. Don’t wanna share you with some floozy.” You slurred, feeling your heart ache some more. Why did you have to be so jealous of some woman?

“Well, I’m not fucking anyone.” He said, making you relax, but the tears still flowed. It wasn’t from lack of trying, either. But none of the women were you. “Better?” He hummed, thumbs wiping your tears away.

God, he wanted you. More than he should have. You were all he could think about. His sweet, soft, and sensitive girl.

Your heart raced, as he kissed you making you melt against him as his tongue slowly slid against yours. He pulled back, “We’ll make love. But when you’re sober. I want you to remember me when have you.” He husked.

“How could I not remember you?” You whispered, but Billy heard.

Billy’s heart squeezed as you tucked yourself under his chin, and tangled your legs with his.

He was known, and it fucking terrified him.

“this character is dead” to you maybe. I don't know where y'all live but I live in denial

Vasilisa Donbay ph.

If Aphrodite had stomach rolls then so can I

oh. I was wondering where your works went & I spent ages looking for them 😬 love that you’re back on here !!! and I’m totally loving all of you writings ❤️ so glad I found you again :)

So sorry about that. 💜 But I’m glad you found me again, and are enjoying my stuff! 😄 I’m slowly reposting some of my old stuff as I find it in my mess of a Google doc folder. :p

~Kat 💜

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 ✨😌

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.