Monsters In The Dark #17

Lucky Charms Sugar Cookies

Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Leonard Woolf, featured in The Selected Letters of Virginia Woolf

Monsters in the Dark #24

Warnings; implied sex, language, dark themes, fluff, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate

Monsters in the Dark Masterlist

x

It was late when Billy got home, around two in the morning. The penthouse was quiet, the moon filtering into the living room through the curtains.

He threw his duffle down, kicking off his boots and moving to the cabinet to pour himself a whiskey. He untwisted the lid on the bottle. What a shitshow of a trip, fucking politicians.

He paused in his anger to notice a wrapped package on the counter in the kitchen, and moved to inspect it, as you came down the hall, “Billy?” You asked softly.

Fuck, he’d missed your voice.

Billy dropped the bottle of whiskey, forgetting the package, and moving over to you, and picking you up, carrying you down the hall, his mouth on yours.

He was home.

x

Billy held you, content post coitus, fingers stroking your spine. “Missed you.” He husked in your ear, making you smile.

“Missed you too, Billy.” You kissed under his ear, making him hum.

“Did Billy have a good trip?” You asked, as he shrugged;

“I hate dealing with bureaucrats.” He said. “I wish I could take you with me.”

“Billy would never get anything done.” You laughed.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He said roughly, nose skimming your collarbone.

A pause, and then; “What was that little package on the countertop?” Billy asked, remembering it suddenly.

You looked shy suddenly, and slowly moved to get out of bed, throwing on his shirt.

Billy realized it was for him. His heart thudded, so rarely in the receiving end of gifts. Women usually expected him to do the gift giving. Billy didn’t even give a fuck what it was. Just that you’d thought of him. But why? Was there a special occasion he’d missed?

You came back in with the little package, crawling onto the bed next to him. “I saw this, and thought of you.” You murmured.

Billy unwrapped it to reveal a little black plastic toy car. “It reminded me of Billy’s Wraith. And I know he likes cars, so…”

Billy felt like there was something caught in his throat, as he looked up at you. “Thank you.” He managed out.

“I’m sorry, it’s not much—“

Billy cut you off with a hard kiss, “I love it.” He said roughly.

You smiled softly.

x

Billy stood with his hands in his pockets, calmly and coldly taking out his opponent’s team in the simulation, directing his team with the cool precision of a hardened Marine. The government official watched wondering what sort of man Billy was, and that he was glad he was on their side.

He’d make a devastating enemy.

Billy guided the official to his office afterward to sign some paperwork. Billy was intimidating, and had no interest in small talk. His office wasn’t warm and inviting, but he didn’t expect that from Billy, who pulled the papers out of a drawer at his desk.

That’s when he saw it. A little plastic black toy car sitting there. So playful in an otherwise cold office. “Kids?” He asked, nodding towards the car.

A fond smile made its way on Billy’s face. “My girl.” He said, handing him the forms to sign.

He looked stunned, both at Billy’s soft expression, and the car. A far cry from the cold tactician a few minutes ago. But he had a feeling Billy would spill blood for you from his own observations.

Shivering, he signed the papers, and afterwards his eyes drifted back to the toy car, and Billy followed his gaze. “She special?” He asked.

Billy grinned, and it was almost threatening. “She’s the kind of girl you’d kill for.” Billy answered.

The man swallowed.

OC/canon and selfships are good y’all are just scared of having fun

“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

I feel like it's so easy in the plush community to always get caught up in looking for the 'next one' to add to the collection, I know I sometimes get stuck in this, so here's your (and my) reminder to value and cherish the plush you have, make fond memories with them, and love them! Always focus on the present and what you have rather than what you "could" have, plush are the best!

Play

A Drabble set in the Monsters in the Dark universe.

—dark themes, abandonment, abuse (mentioned), sexual abuse (mentioned), kissing, fluff mixed with angst, fem!reader—

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

It was when the nights were quiet, and neither of you could sleep that Billy played for you.

His fingers skillfully flew across the keys, while you sat next to him, cheek pressed into his shoulder, eyes closed as you listened to him play.

It wasn’t something he shared with many—the hardened Marine, a virtuoso.

“It was my escape in the group home, music.” Billy had told you, laying in bed one evening after you’d caught him playing.

His fingers had laced with yours as he spoke; “Especially after Arthur. Didn’t want to think, so my teacher got me set up with classes. I guess I was bein’ a troublemaker. Actin’ out.” He recalled, voice low.

Then, one night you hadn’t been able to sleep, and neither could Billy. You asked him to play for you, “Please, Billy? You sound so good.”

“Sure, baby.” He’d said, and you’d both traipsed into his living room to play.

Billy wanted you to play with him, but he knew the trauma your father had caused, and didn’t push it.

“My dad was always harsh on me when I missed a note.” You whispered one evening. “It started so many fights between my mom and him. He swore I was coming between them. Mom said she’d always choose me.” It was the most you’d spoken on the subject.

Billy felt the same way as your mom did. He’d choose you every time, too.

There was a pause, and you said in a small voice; “My dad didn’t want me. I was just a disappointment to him.” You mumbled.

Billy stopped playing, looking over at you; “Did you ever think he was just trying to justify his shitty actions because of guilt?” He knew a little of your father, who had been physically and emotionally abusive. You had talked a little about it.

It always made Billy silently rage, the things your father did to you.

But otherwise you rarely spoke of it.

You chewed your lip, “Maybe.”

“I think it’s more than maybe.” Billy said, tapping your nose. “You were a kid. None of it could have been your fault, especially not him hurtin’ you.”

“But maybe if I was better, a good girl—“ you began, but Billy grabbed your face making you look at him.

“Baby, it wasn’t your responsibility to be better for him, it was his responsibility to be better for you.” He kissed your mouth, lingering. His fingers tangled in your hair, letting you cling to him.

“Wanna hold onto Billy forever. So you can never leave me.” You said, gripping his hand.

Billy kissed you, he wanted you to hold onto him. His own abandonment issues lingered. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, baby.”

You shivered pleasantly. His words brought you comfort. His hard kiss soothed the hurt in your heart, as you clung into him.

Sometimes you wanted to climb inside his heart, and stay there warm and safe, where nothing could touch you.

His heart was your safe haven.

Maybe yours could be his.

It's always so uplifting to see tha you have posted some of your fiction 🤩

Thank you, my friend. I really appreciate you. It’s uplifting to see you in my notes when I post something. ♥️😘

Restart.

A Monsters in the Dark Drabble.

Warnings; angst, mentions of Billy’s bad childhood and reader’s, language, fear of attachments, kissing, possessive behavior, fem!reader.

I’ve rewritten this more times than I can count, so I’m posting it for better or for worse.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate @aoi-targaryen

Monsters in the Dark Masterlist

x

And I am done with my graceless heart, so tonight I’m gonna cut it out and then restart.

You knew you shouldn’t have been, but you were snooping in his office. You wanted to know where he went every week. It wasn’t your business, but curiosity killed the cat.

You ended up finding a picture of a woman and what presumably was Billy as a child. He was cute, you thought unable to tear your gaze away from the photo. He had her eyes, but neither were smiling in the photo.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Billy stood at the door looking thunderous.

“I just—“ you began, head snapping up.

“Get. Out.” He snarled, cutting you off, snatching the photo out of your hand, his face contorted in fury.

“Wanted to know Billy.” You whispered, brushing past him, your throat burning with the effort to keep from crying.

“By invading my privacy?” He seethed from behind you. You sniffed, and god Billy almost pulled you into his arms, knowing what you’d been through with your father.

But he didn’t need or want your pity.

He was going to kick you out, you just knew it. You began making contingency plans. You wouldn’t be homeless again with nowhere to go, you swore.

x

“Billy’s mad at me,” you whispered into your tea, sitting with Curtis.

“He’ll cool off. He just doesn’t want your pity. Billy’s very independent that way.” Curtis said, having coffee himself.

“I don’t, though. My daddy didn’t want me, either. If anything I felt understood, but I’ve gone and blown it.” You said, keeping out that you’d been sleeping with Billy.

Your chest ached knowing you’d have to sleep on your own tonight. That the memories of your father would likely resurface, scaring you. You chewed your lips until they were bloody.

Curtis extended his leg, he looked like he was in pain. “Don't chew your lips,” he scolded, lightly dabbing at the blood there. You had a habit of worrying at your lips, something Curtis often scolded you for, “Want me to talk to him?” He asked, pulling the cloth away from your lips.

“No, it’ll make it worse.” You said, finishing your tea.

Curtis hummed, “It’ll be okay, Billy’s stubborn but I can tell he cares about you, even if he doesn’t say. He’s not good with emotions.” He explained sipping his coffee.

You hoped Curtis was right, because you’d grown to care for Billy, even knowing he wasn’t entirely good, and made his living out of violence.

You trusted him, and even as angry as he got, he hadn’t struck you. He’d been controlled.

You only wished his anger hadn’t hurt so much. A curse of feeling everything strongly, everything felt so deeply.

x

Billy couldn’t fucking sleep. The image of your eyes filled with tears stuck in his head, that he’d caused them. But more than that he missed your warm body next to his, the feeling of your even breaths, and soft snores, the way you played with the scar at his hip before you went to sleep every night. You always had a fixation with it.

You were the only woman he’d let into his bed. It was his one safe space, but he hadn’t been able to turn you away that night you’d begged to sleep with him.

And now he was attached to you. The very thing he hated, because it meant he could be vulnerable again. Sometimes he wanted to cut his heart out, it would make life so much easier.

The woman who was supposed to love him, had abandoned him. The most important relationship he’d ever have in his formative years. His fingers fisted his duvet seeing your sweet face in his mind again.

But god he liked you. He still had the lavender under his pillow that you got him.

“Fuck this,” he hissed, throwing his duvet off. He wanted you in any capacity you’d have him. There was nothing to think about.

x

You laid in bed that night in the guest room, trying not to see your father in the shadows as you usually did, his shadow still hanging over you, frightening you years after his attempt on your life.

You hid under the covers letting out a shaky breath. He’s not here, you told yourself. He can’t get you. You chanted over and over, but a tingle of fear trickled down your spine, making it hard to breathe.

You screamed when you heard someone knock on your doorframe. You peeked out from the covers, “Billy?” You asked, shaking.

“Who else?” He asked not unkindly, his hair mussed from laying on it. “Come to bed,” he said hoarsely, as though he hadn’t gotten much sleep, either.

You hesitated and he ached at your reluctance, “I’m not mad anymore, sweet pea.” He said seeing you shake, before you threw off your duvet, and followed him into his room. When you climbed in, he pulled you against him, stroking your spine, burying his face in your hair. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he rasped, surprising himself. He rarely apologized. But he realized he valued you.

You kissed his mouth, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have been snooping around.” You mumbled against his lips.

Billy’s fingers dug into your hips, “I just wanna love Billy. Every part of him, even the parts he’d rather forget.” You continued, trying to make him understand.

Billy ached at that. His own mother hadn’t loved him, how could you? You kissed him again, soft and slow making him groan softly, tasting the toothpaste on your tongue.

And just like that the ache in Billy’s heart eased in the wake of your kisses, sweet and yielding.

“You’re mine.” He rasped, making your heart leap with hope.

“You promise?” You asked softly, minty breath blowing over his face.

“I promise.” He said, kissing your forehead, before tucking you under his chin.

And after hours of fighting for sleep, you both fell asleep at two in the morning.