Volume One Got Me Like

EMMA D'ARCY as RHAENYRA TARGARYEN House of the Dragon (Official Trailer) | Season 2

hii! i'm obsessed with your writing and how you write billy 🫶🏻 i wondered if you could do a part 2 of the singer!reader x billy one. maybe they meet again and he asks her out or the next time they see each other, reader is singing a song about him 🎀 i'm sure whatever you decide to write will be stunning

she so totally would sing a song about him bro

it becomes a thing after that second time he comes to see you sing.

no matter how tired, beat up, beat down, sunburned or moody billy is, he’s at that table every single friday night. after the 4th or 5th week in a row, he finally plucks up the courage to ask you out. you even use the word finally, which makes him blush but he laughs all the same.

you become inseparable in your moments that neither of you are busy. as soon as billy is finished with his work for the day, he’s high-tailing it to your little house out in the hills. some days he strolls around town with you, some evenings you two lay out in the grass behind your home, gazing at the stars and grazing hands. much to your surprise and delight, it’s billy who kisses you first.

you two are sitting on a blanket, his favorite place in the world woth you at his side and the sun shining. birds tweet happily in the trees, you scribbling in your leather-bound notebook while he braids together pieces of the tall grass and watches you. he loves to listen to you hum different melodies, testing them against the words you put on the pages. he finds a little flower, probably a weed but its still pretty all the same, and weaves it into the little knot of grass he’s been tying together.

“hey, darlin’,” he murmurs, smiling. you glance up with a chirpy little hm?, grinning and blushing when he tucks the little woven plants into your hair carefully. it looks like a little rosette, with the flower at the center.

“how’s it look?” you ask, matching his grin.

“pretty as a picture,” he breathes, letting his hand cup your cheek gently. when you lean into his palm, his heart does this funny little thing in his chest that it’s only ever done for you.

you rest your own hand over his on your cheek, and the next thing you know, he’s dipping his head to brush his lips against yours. they’re warm and soft on your mouth, sweet from the peach he’d eaten earlier. when you sigh into him and press closer, he thinks he might just be the happiest man that’s ever lived.

and so it goes, billy gives you all his attention and you give him all your affection and vice versa, in this perfect little back and forth. what he doesn’t expect, though, is for you to give him your songs.

he’s parked at his usual spot, humming along to all the songs he knows by heart now. he sips his whiskey and watches you, a permanent little quirk to his lips that betrays exactly how much he adores you to anyone who spares him a passing glance.

“alright y’all, i got one more up my sleeve before i take my bows for the night,” you tell the crowd, grinning. “this one’s new, so i hope you like it! but really, there’s only one person here who’s opinion on it matters to me.” You laugh and wink at him, and he smiles but lifts his brow curiously at you.

and then you’re picking up your guitar, voice soft as a cloud as you sing about blue, blue, blue, and cowboys with rough hands but gentle hearts. funny little hats and maroon sweaters that are warmer than any blanket you’ve ever felt. billy swallows hard and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, though still he smiles. you don’t take your eyes off him the entire song, and as soon as its done, you slip your guitar off your body.

you don’t even bow or thank the audience this time, you’re walking straight to billy. he stands up and you smile, standing on your tiptoes and yanking him by the collar down to your lips to kiss him until he feels dizzy with it. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against his body, bending you backwards with how fiercely he returns your kiss.

“i love you,” he pants softly against your mouth, not caring about who sees. you break away with a giggle, the sweetest thing billy has ever heard.

“i love you too, cowboy.”

he grins and takes his hat off, placing it on your head. then, he cups your cheeks and kisses your forehead, both of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips one more time. billy bonney is the happiest man who’s ever lived, no doubt about it.

mysaria and rhaenyra PLEASE fuck nasty

lmao rewatching season1 rn and tell me why nobody discusses the fact that jackie lost her virginity to travis on SHAUNA’S bed😭😭😭😭

ANAKIN SKYWALKER + signature lightsaber spin

I HATE YOU MASTERLIST

[mini series]

summary: things get pretty heated, in more ways than one, between you and elliot, who you absolutely loath.

fandom: euphoria

parings: elliot x f reader

warnings: smut, swearing, drug and alcohol use

smut: *

PART ONE *

PART TWO *

PART THREE *

completed

"We are forged from the shattered pieces of our former selves". YELLOWJACKETS (2021-)

ah, look at all the lonely people...

how to love a hero

description: how to love and be loved by a hero: with tenderness and warmth, washing the blood from each other’s hands after a long day.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader (implied; could be read as platonic)

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship

word count: 2.2k

warnings: not canon compliant, canon-typical violence, blood/injury, nonsexual nudity (gn!reader), kissing, swearing, 16+

a/n: one of the panels from moon knight (2006) inspired this cause it left me in shambles. they shower together (not explicit) marc and reader both need a hug and they’re getting one here!! i was writing from my shit memory, so my mind muddled some of the scenes from the show together (and bc i didnt know where i was going with this) but i fixed it. i also held this hostage in my drafts for like 2 (3?) months sorry lol

The handcuffs around your wrists felt like an unnecessary touch. You weren’t really sure why these people even had them in the first place, but after what you did to a quite few of them, you guessed it was probably a smart precautionary measure. Arthur Harrow’s followers kept shoving you forward like you couldn’t walk yourself. Your legs and hands ached and so did your head, but the pain suddenly went to the back of your mind when your eyes met the reason you were here.

Marc was kneeling on the ground, hands behind his back. The several guns pointed directly at his face made you swallow thickly, throat drying up fast. Your name flew out of his mouth when he saw you, eyes hanging on the blood stains all over your clothes before searching for any injuries. Marc immediately assumed the worst because that’s always been what he’s best at—and you must’ve been bleeding out with the amount of red he could see.

He lunged at Harrow, but his shoulders were pressed down roughly. “You piece of shit!”

“It’s not mine, Marc,” you reassured him, wrists straining against the tight cuffs.

“Did quite a number on my people, actually,” Harrow said as he took a few steps towards you. You thought you heard the faint sound of broken glass, but you weren’t sure where it was coming from. He glanced over his shoulder. “I can’t help but wonder what Ammit’s verdict might be.”

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