Fear of the Dark
A Monsters in the Dark Drabble.
Nightmares, PTSD, kissing, a bit of dacryphilia, mentions of Billy’s bad childhood, fem!reader.
@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack
Billy woke up to sniffling by the door to his bedroom, he paused wondering if he brought someone home and didn't remember, but then he realized you occupied the penthouse now, taking you in for Curtis, you’d had no place to go.
“Mr. Russo?” You asked, voice watery. “Can I sleep with you? Don’t like the dark, don’t like being alone. I’ll be good, I promise.” Your voice shook as you clung to the doorframe.
“C’mon, baby.” Billy said, patting the bed, unable to resist your tearful voice.
It excited him.
You crawled in, curling in a ball, your whole body shaking. He wondered what haunted your nightmares. He pulled you against him, stroking your hair and trying to soothe your tremors, as he hushed you softly, his lips brushing yours.
You shuddered, pressing closer, returning his affection. You were hungry for it.
You reminded him of a small mouse, looking for safety in a deadly panther.
God, it took him back. His fingers moved to your hips, digging into your flesh, and you sighed shakily, clutching his own hips.
“Where’s my mom?” Billy remembered crying to the firemen at the station, his lips had trembled, his chest had heaved. He remembered he couldn’t breathe because of his sobbing.
Why had she left him there? When was she coming back? He wondered if he had been bad.
It was an unfamiliar place, and he just wanted to go home.
“Your ma ain’t comin’ back, son.” The man had told Billy, who had sunk into hopelessness with no comfort in sight.
Billy stroked your hips, thumbs rubbing back and forth. Your crying slowed down, and you clutched his shirt in your hands, lips only trembling off and on now.
Billy was struck with the idea he was needed. He wanted to chase away your demons, to hurt anyone who had hurt you.
Mine, he thought, surprising himself.
Your eyes fluttered, tears clinging to your lashes, cheek pressed to his chest. Your body shuddered one last time before you slept soundly.
His heart ached.
God, attachments were a weakness but the feeling of being needed was addictive, and that was a very dangerous thing.
Billy groaned inwardly, fingers digging into your flesh, nose skimming your hair. He wanted you in his bed more than he should, wanted to spread you out on his sheets and devour you, hear your sweet sighs and moans while he ruined you. To settle between your thighs, and split you open on his cock.
The last thing he remembered was your soft breathing, and your body slotted perfectly against his.
It brought him more comfort than he wanted to admit.
Comfort that hadn’t been in his life since childhood.
Monsters in the Dark #18
Dark themes, fluff, alcohol consumption, f/reader.
@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack
x
“You know I used to run around pretending to be married to Hades?” You asked Billy, taking a sip of your wine. It was the good stuff, the expensive Zinfandel that Billy knew you loved.
Billy looked over, fingers massaging your calves as you both enjoyed a Friday night together, and watching some action/adventure flick.
You weren’t sure what it was about anymore, too tipsy to care. And too focused on Billy’s touch. You had a one track mind when it came to him.
Something Billy was very aware of.
“Oh yeah?” He asked, sipping his beer.
You scooted closer, spilling your wine a little on your hand, as you giggled a little drunk, “I was obsessed with Greek mythology. My daddy had endless books on the subject. He was a professor. I often stole his books, and climbed my favorite tree and read. It made him mad.” You said, feeling bittersweet remembering your father. You loved him because he was still your father.
Billy’s fingers gripped your chin, noticing your faraway eyes, making you look at him; “You're stronger without him.” He said fiercely.
You smiled softly.
“Later on I became obsessed with villains like the Phantom from Phantom of the Opera, something my foster mother never understood. She said it was dangerous to love the darkness, that I was too soft. But I never cared for white knights. They bored me.” You explained.
Billy smiled, imagining little you running around fantasizing about Hades, stealing your father’s books, and hiding in trees.
“It reminds me of myself, I used to hide in little nooks and crannies reading westerns, and dreaming of being a cowboy. I remember fantasizin’ about rescuin’ the girl.” He told you. His memories were also tinged with bittersweetness.
“I became more of a villain than a hero.” Billy said, finishing off his beer. Maria would say he was an antihero, but sometimes Billy wasn’t so sure.
Because he had told himself you could never leave him, that he’d drag you back if he had to. It made him more of a villain than anything.
You grinned at him, “Billy is my Hades.” You admitted, taking another sip of wine.
Billy chuckled; “I’m your godly lover, huh?” He asked, pinching your cheek.
He could imagine Maria telling you he didn’t need his ego stroked.
You looked at him shyly, “Could I be your Persephone?” You asked, the alcohol making your mind feel warm and fuzzy.
Billy smiled wickedly, “Of course, baby. You’re the only goddess I want to worship.” He purred.
You gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, “Love you, Bill. Thorns and all.”
Billy’s heart skipped a beat. He loved you, thorns and all, too.
Monsters in the Dark #10
//Dark themes, fluff, kissing, fem!reader//
@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack
Billy loved you.
He knew that all consuming ache in his chest could be no other thing.
It was four in the morning, and a few minutes before his alarm went off, and he was watching you sleep curled against him.
He was terrified of this new feeling.
He hadn’t meant for it to happen. But he hadn’t expected you to be so soft. So good. People were mostly a means to an end for Billy, save for Frank.
They’d proven time and again they were shallow, and only after themselves.
But you were different. You saw the best in people, even in Billy. You had a hard life, but you hadn’t let it harden you.
Billy thought you were brave, to wear your heart on your sleeve after being knocked down so many times.
His fingers curled around your hip, pulling you closer. You mumbled something but didn't wake.
He thought love made people pure, but your love had made a monster out of him. He didn’t care who he had to destroy to make sure you remained intact.
He’d burn the world and every fucker in it for you.
He kissed you as his alarm went off, realizing he’d been watching you for too long.
You sighed into his mouth, “Morning, Billy.” You mumbled sleepily.
“Morning, baby.” He purred, kneading your hips. “Wanna take a shower with me?”
You were suddenly very awake and eager. “Mhm!” You said, and the enthusiasm in your voice made him ache in the best way as you threw the duvet off.
He sat up chuckling as you ran to the bathroom, after a few seconds you peeked around the corner. “Come on.” You said impatiently.
Love, indeed.
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
36. | because we are living in a material world, and I am a material kitty. | my cat, probably. Masterlist I
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