Jasmine.

You heard the tape. That’s why we’re here.

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.

got this glittery dust from lush im abt to start my career as edward cullen

my instagram explore page loves showing me those like erotic dark romance novel tiktoks and i really have to wonder: why do all these straight women desperately want to fuck a mafia boss

ppl who don't get cats will try to argue that cats don't love you meanwhile cats will cry and cry and cry and cry like the world is ending until you hold them like a baby and give them a kissy on their perfect lil forehead

{Soft}

Part of the Monsters in the Dark universe.

Soft!Billy, mean!Billy, kissing, dacryphilia, roommate au, fem!reader.

216 words.

+++

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11

“Oh, baby.”

You were sniffling, trying to hide it from your roommate, as you closed your book. But he’d noticed, as you hid your face in his chest.

“Let me see those pretty tears,” he hummed, pulling you from your hiding place. He cupped your face as the tears fell. Your book had ended sadly, and the two characters who you thought were going to end up together, didn’t. You explained it to him.

He licked the saltiness off your cheek, marveling at you. He loved how soft you were, how little things like a romance novel could reduce you to tears. It reminded him there was good in this world. He kissed your mouth, feeling himself grow excited at your crying.

He pulled you into his lap, brushing hair from your face. His thumb teased your bottom lip, and you sighed. “They didn’t get together, now what?” He teased you.

“Billy is making fun.” You pouted, making him grin.

“Poor baby, am I being mean?” He said, laughing.

“Yes,” you told him petulantly. He laughed again, pinching your cheeks.

“Can’t help it, you’re cute when you cry.” He smiled. “And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“All yours,” you said, snuggling into his chest.

He felt warmth bloom in his chest at your admission. All his.

Thank you, Terry! I’ve missed writing. I don’t know often I’ll write, but I miss being creative. And I’ve missed you, too. 💜

—The Wolf.

—slightly canon!Billy, alluding to oral (f receiving), implied poly, alcohol, drunk reader.

—526 words.

—I haven’t written in a long time. I felt a little inspired, so I wrote. :) I’ll tag a few who might be interested. If you don’t see yourself tagged, it’s because I can’t remember my taglist, lol.

— @e-dubbc11 @kayhi808 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @snowkestrel @aoi-targaryen @terry2227 @firexfate @danzer8705

You drowsily watched him work at his desk, leaning your chin down on your arms, feeling jittery. You probably shouldn’t have drank that wine with your antidepressants. “Sometimes I think Anvil is what you love the most. More’n me and Frankie.” You slurred, drunk from the wine he’d given you, and feeling like you’d stepped into a hot bath. The fire cracked in the background, light flickering in the dark room.

Billy leaned back in his chair, clicking his pen, dark eyes watching you. He reached across the desk, a finger curling around your hair. “It’s proof of how far I’ve come.” He said, voice low, making a fire burn deep in your belly. God, you wanted him. In every way, you wanted to devour him like the wolf in the woods.

“But Billy, we love you. Is it really worth everything?” You asked, taking another sip, sinking deeper into the chair, his answer wrapping around you;

“I loved my ma. Where did it get me?” His voice was sharp, as bared his teeth. A pin drop could be heard, and the wind blew outside, making you cold somehow despite the warmth of the fire.

“I could love you.” It was quiet, but he heard you as he pulled back, dark eyes like chips of onyx.

“It doesn’t matter if you love me. You’re mine.” The clock chimed midnight.

“And you’re mine and Frankie’s.” You said, shifting, the chair creaking underneath you. You remembered recently sharing a bed with Frank and Billy, nestled between them while they smoked. You felt an ache between your thighs even now, the smell of Billy’s cologne and nicotine.

Billy fidgeted with the pen, a frown between his eyes, and his lashes fanning over his cheekbones.

The room was dim, casting harsh shadows across his face. He dropped the pen and it rolled across the desk. He grabbed his glass of whiskey, Tennessee Honey, and finished it off. He looked at you over the glass. “There’s no such thing as fairytales. That shit is for the storybooks.”

“But maybe in the fairytale Red Riding Hood gets eaten, and she’s happy for it.” You said, wide eyed, and eager.

“And I’m the wolf, right?” He set the glass down, admiring how you pressed your thighs together under his hot gaze.

“Billy, who says you’re the wolf?” You said giggling, and he couldn’t tell if it was the wine. “I can eat you when you visit your mother in that home you keep her in. When you keep her—“

Billy clicked his tongue. “Careful. You’re clever and I like you, but my ma is off limits.” He said through his teeth.

“Oh, Mister Russo, won’t you keep me and Frankie locked up, too?” You continued, unruffled.

He closed his laptop, and stood up moving around the desk. He fisted your hair, “Alright, little bird. Let’s go to bed. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll eat that pussy.”

You laughed, standing up, running for the stairs, looking over your shoulder, beckoning him. Your hips swayed, taking the first step, and then laughed again racing up the stairs, Billy hot on your heels.

And hell on his.

Monsters in the Dark #8

Dark themes, mentions of Billy’s abandonment by his mother, dark fluff, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

&&&

It was quiet that evening. You both laid on his living room floor, Billy lost in his thoughts, watching you read Shakespeare while he played with your hair.

He shook himself from those thoughts, knowing they were growing dark, thinking of all the ways he was sure you’d eventually leave him.

The ways he’d drag you back. But stopped himself, knowing if you truly wanted to leave, he’d let you go.

Even if it made his chest fucking ache.

“Read to me,” Billy murmured, lips brushing your head.

You shuddered, enjoying Billy’s touch, and began to read;

“These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die like fire and powder, which as they kiss, consume.” You recited, softly. Your fingers played with the edge of the paper.

Billy watched you, admiring you, and kissed the corner of your lips. He was the Devil, but for you? He was Godly vengeance on your enemies.

You loved Billy at his darkest. But you didn’t seek to save him. You knew you could not, instead you stayed in the darkness with him.

Like Persephone had chosen to stay with Hades by eating the pomegranate.

He stroked your cheek, “I’m damning you.” He spoke, startling you.

You shrugged, a smile played on your lips. “It’s my choice, Billy. It’s not on you. A God who is supposedly for free will but punishes you for not choosing Him is maybe a God I don’t wanna choose.” You told him, leaning into his touch.

“You’d choose me over heaven?” Billy asked, thumb brushing your bottom lip.

“I don’t wanna go to a place I can’t follow you.” You said earnestly. “You cut off someone’s fingers for me just because they threatened me. What has God done but watch my father abuse me? My mother had to step in, and He didn’t defend her, either.”

Billy was a selfish bastard. He rarely cared about anyone but Frank and himself, but he fucking ached at the thought of you suffering eternal misery for him.

He grunted as you pushed him back, discarding the play, and climbing on top of him. You laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, thighs on either side of his hips.

Silence reigned, but it was comfortable, the clock ticked over the TV, and New York bustled below the penthouse.

He remembered Curtis bringing you over, a fragile woman, scared of so much, shaking the first night at the door to his bedroom, begging to let you sleep with him.

How he’d been hooked the minute you’d crawled in, fingers clutching his shirt. You reminded him of the boy he’d been. How he’d cried at the fire station, wondering why his mom had left him there, and when she was coming back.

He’d marked you as his since then, and swore to protect you, swore that no one would ever hurt you again, after hearing from Curtis the tales of your father’s abuse.

Billy gripped your hips, angry thinking about it. He wanted to drag your father from his grave, and burn the bones. No. No one would ever hurt you again.

If only he knew, you felt the same way about him.

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.

Poseidon: I gave Zeus a get well soon card

Hades: that’s surprisingly nice of you

Poseidon: he’s not sick I just think he should do better