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He’s just too alluring, and he’d be a little shit, purposely distracting you. 🩶🩷
Little bird.
*bodyguard!Billy, mutual pining, fem!reader*
It’s just a little scene I thought of. Might not gonna be apart of or connected to anything. I just had to get it out. The little bird who craved the violence and darkness of the panther.
@terry2227 @kayhi808 @e-dubbc11 @aoi-targaryen @firequeensposts @oops89 @thejanecampaign @bookloverfilmoholic @littleblackcatinwonderland @cant-help-simping @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @danzer8705 @zz-kennedy @fictional-hooman @firexfate @rosaleenablack @idaofinfinity @russosafehaven @gh0stf1c3 @milea @snowkestrel
&&&&&&
You were sitting cross legged on your quilt reading from your novel, when you heard his footsteps on the wooden floors of your old manor. Billy came in, “Settled, little bird?” His nearly black eyes shined with something dark, as he watched you with your hair rollers in, Wuthering Heights in your lap.
He leaned against your doorframe and the only thing you were aware of more than the crickets outside was his casual ease with which he interacted with you.
You wanted to reach out to him, drawn to his casual dominance, but your fear of men crippled you, but the knowledge that he was here to protect you made you yearn, a dull ache between your thighs that threatened to tear you apart. “Are you my bodyguard or my nanny, Billy?” You teased him quietly, playing with the page in your book. He was captivating with a dark edge, like a sharp dagger gliding along velvet.
He walked in, the floor creaking under his feet again. The crickets seemed louder. His mouth brushed your forehead as he tucked the blanket around you. “Got a bite tonight, don’t you? Sleep tight, little bird.” He husked, breath fanning across your face, making your eyes flutter.
You sucked in a breath, “You too, panther.” You murmured, and his eyes flicked to yours, and they threatened to swallow you whole.
His lips curved up, he touched your forehead with his finger, before pushing your head back. “Careful not to tease the cat. I eat little birds.”
“Hawks eat cats. Maybe I’m a hawk.” You retorted, even as you chased his touch.
His fingers touched your chin, “You’re too soft.” He said, regretfully.
You blinked and he walked out. This wasn’t the time to have a crush on your bodyguard with that maniac on the loose. But as you looked at your book, you realized you weren’t really paying attention as you flipped through it.
You were drawn to Billy, his violence, his darkness, and that was a very dangerous thing to be drawn to. Stupid, even.
Cats ate birds.
But didn’t you crave his devouring?
You blew out a breath of air, your bangs blowing up. “Oh, fiddlesticks.”
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Oh, god I agree! I’d probably end up wrapping it around a tree or light pole. 😂 Thank you for the share, my friend. 🩶🩷
Driving Lessons.
*best friends/sometimes more, reader has a lead foot, kissing, fem!reader.*
• based on my first driving experience. I almost drove into a ditch.
• tagging; @e-dubbc11 @terry2227 @kayhi808 @bookloverfilmoholic @cant-help-simping @firequeensposts @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @thejanecampaign @oops89 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @zz-kennedy @vaguekayla @snowkestrel @fictional-hooman @milea @aoi-targaryen
*+*+*+*+*
You almost drove the Wraith into a sidewalk, as you pulled out in front of someone barely missing their fender as they cussed at you. It prompted Billy’s nails to dig into your thigh, leaving crescent shapes on your skin.
He clicked his tongue, “Slower, sweetheart. You got a lead foot.”
“Sorry, Bill.” You said, lips trembling, stopping the car right over a curb, pulling your lip between your teeth, hands stiff on the steering wheel, shoulders taut.
And then you pulled out into one way, your heart racing as cars came at you. “Jesus, turn around up there.” He said, nails still digging into your thigh.
You stopped, hitting your forehead on the steering wheel.
He fisted your hair, leaning across the seat, eyes blurbing into yours, “Dumb bunny, what did I tell you about a one way?” he asked, and kissed you until you forgot to breathe. He pulled back spit following, dark eyes intense as he watched you, “Try again, sweetheart. And try not to rear end someone. Or I’ll have to make you work off the damages.” He teased you, straight faced.
“Really?!” You turned to him, gullible as ever, and backing into a light pole.
He clicked his tongue again.
Oh god, he was gonna make you walk to Target.
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valentino haute couture spring/summer 2012
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as a knitter, you start to notice how rare it is for characters in tv shows and movies to knit correctly. from worst to best, it ranges from:
- laughably incorrect, just flinging yarn around
- knitting the most basic scarf incredibly slowly because the actor Learned How To Do It For The Role
- old lady actresses casually knitting an intricate lace pattern while doing a monologue
- gromit from wallace and gromit
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knitting/chrocheting while hanging out with friends is so funny like everyone shut up for a few minutes i have to count to 115. twice
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pixie.
*roommates, short hair for the reader, chubby and short reader, obsession, yandere, language, afab!reader*
I ‘now it’s not Halloween, but summer is approaching and that depresses me. It’s eternally fall in my mind, lol.
801 words.
tagging; @terry2227 @kayhi808 @milea @firequeensposts @aoi-targaryen @bookloverfilmoholic @cant-help-simping @idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @snowkestrel @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @thejanecampaign @oops89 @zz-kennedy @fictional-hooman
*+*+*+*+*+*
You sat in your blue shorts, and white sweater, and listened to some music in your earbuds, putting your lemon popsicle in your mouth, looking at your tablet, watching Cyrus curled up in your lap, in the orange glow of the Halloween tree in the corner. She was purring, not even looking up at Billy when she noticed him.
You’d stolen his cat, among other things. Like his towel rack where you now hung your bras, and the medicine cabinet, where you’d kicked him out with your growing hoard of nail polish. And hair clips.
And all his Tennessee Honey.
And he remembered you roping him into buying Halloween decorations.
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year, Billy.” You said, plunking a witches brew sign in the cart at Target. “Besides, who doesn’t like Halloween stuffy’s?” You asked, booping him with a stuffed bat.
“Me.” He deadpanned, “Halloween was just a reminder I didn’t belong anywhere, and it just meant extra chores for me,” he rolled his left shoulder, hands in his pockets, looking back at you, expecting pity.
“Well, governor. That’s gonna change. We can sit and watch Hocus Pocus and shove our faces with candy, and get fat.” You said, moving to the candy aisle. But across from that were mugs.
He’d followed, a warm feeling building in his chest despite his reticence.
You held up a black mug with a white skull, “Fittin’ for Frankie boy, huh?” You had said, setting it in the cart carefully.
Frank still had that mug, a smile had played on his lips when you gave it to him, “For when you’re on your vigilante shit.”
Frank had laughed, “Sure, pixie.” He said, ruffling your ridiculously short hair that stuck up everywhere.
And you’d bought Billy a blackbird stuffy, “For my scout sniper specialist, governor.” You’d smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners.
You’d called him yours.
You pulled the sweet treat out with a pop when you noticed him standing there, in the hallway outside your doorway in a suit and tie having come home from work, “Wanna taste, governor?” You asked innocently, your accent thick, holding it out to him, your mouth glistening. He wondered if you tasted as sweet as you looked,
Billy’s throat bobbed up and down. He’d just come by to check on you after work, as usual. Most of the time you didn’t notice. It had become a bit of an obsession. Always consumed with thoughts about you. The thought of your fingers in his hair, and the soft press of your lips to his scars like you’d done when you spotted them on his palm, silently tracing them. “A warrior, huh?” You had asked, peeking up at him from under your lashes.
“No, bunny. I’m good.” He said seeing your bunny hair clips, aching to taste your lips, and it was a hunger that threatened to tear him at the seams.
He wasn’t interested in sex with you, he just wanted you. To have you pressed against him on cold nights like these, to sit with you doing crosswords with you. You shrugged, “Suit yourself, love.” You said, putting the popsicle back in your mouth.
He pulled himself away from your doorway, “Shorts in this weather?” He asked, lingering.
You scoffed, looking at him over your glasses. Almost looked like a chastising teacher. “You always have the temperature set to the seventh level of hell.”
“Silly bunny.” He said, quietly. He liked your blunt nature. No games or deceptions would he find from you. You were too honest to lie.
Unlike him. A liar, lover, and loaded gun.
“Trix are for kids.” You laughed, thinking yourself clever.
And maybe you were. Maybe you were already his, he thought, moving to his bedroom for a hot shower.
Thoughts of you consumed him ever since you’d moved in last fall, knocking him over with a stack of books in your hands as Matt and Foggy helped you move in.
“What were you doin’ there, you looney?” You’d asked indignantly, picking your books up, your glasses hanging from your neck. They were purple.
“It’s my apartment, bunny.” He had said, noticing the bunny clips in your hair, and wearing a purple skirt with an Iron Maiden t-shirt. Your hair looked like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket.
“Well, whatchya not lookin’ where you goin’ for, governor?” You asked, going into your new room.
And that was when he felt hit by a Mack truck by you, bruised from your copy of the Divine Comedy.
He turned the water on scalding hot as if he could burn his affliction for you out of his skin. But he could never get rid of the longing in his chest.
And maybe he didn’t want to. And that was the problem.
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Final Fantasy: Mystic Quest (1992)
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WRITE IT!!! WRITE THAT SELF INDULGENT SHIT!!!
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pls don’t forget that it is your blog. you should post about what you like and what makes you happy. some ppl will follow and some ppl will unfollow your blog and that’s completely ok. just make sure this whole tumblr experience makes you happy.
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Exactly. My only driving experience is Mario Kart, and I fall off the track, or slam into Bowser, Billy. Or killing people on Grand Theft Auto by running them over. Oops.
Billy would make me pull over, and get out. He didn’t feel like dying in a crash tonight. Or ever.😂
Driving Lessons.
*best friends/sometimes more, reader has a lead foot, kissing, fem!reader.*
• based on my first driving experience. I almost drove into a ditch.
• tagging; @e-dubbc11 @terry2227 @kayhi808 @bookloverfilmoholic @cant-help-simping @firequeensposts @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @thejanecampaign @oops89 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @zz-kennedy @vaguekayla @snowkestrel @fictional-hooman @milea @aoi-targaryen
*+*+*+*+*
You almost drove the Wraith into a sidewalk, as you pulled out in front of someone barely missing their fender as they cussed at you. It prompted Billy’s nails to dig into your thigh, leaving crescent shapes on your skin.
He clicked his tongue, “Slower, sweetheart. You got a lead foot.”
“Sorry, Bill.” You said, lips trembling, stopping the car right over a curb, pulling your lip between your teeth, hands stiff on the steering wheel, shoulders taut.
And then you pulled out into one way, your heart racing as cars came at you. “Jesus, turn around up there.” He said, nails still digging into your thigh.
You stopped, hitting your forehead on the steering wheel.
He fisted your hair, leaning across the seat, eyes blurbing into yours, “Dumb bunny, what did I tell you about a one way?” he asked, and kissed you until you forgot to breathe. He pulled back spit following, dark eyes intense as he watched you, “Try again, sweetheart. And try not to rear end someone. Or I’ll have to make you work off the damages.” He teased you, straight faced.
“Really?!” You turned to him, gullible as ever, and backing into a light pole.
He clicked his tongue again.
Oh god, he was gonna make you walk to Target.
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😂😂😂😂
Driving Lessons.
*best friends/sometimes more, reader has a lead foot, kissing, fem!reader.*
• based on my first driving experience. I almost drove into a ditch.
• tagging; @e-dubbc11 @terry2227 @kayhi808 @bookloverfilmoholic @cant-help-simping @firequeensposts @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @thejanecampaign @oops89 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @zz-kennedy @vaguekayla @snowkestrel @fictional-hooman @milea @aoi-targaryen
*+*+*+*+*
You almost drove the Wraith into a sidewalk, as you pulled out in front of someone barely missing their fender as they cussed at you. It prompted Billy’s nails to dig into your thigh, leaving crescent shapes on your skin.
He clicked his tongue, “Slower, sweetheart. You got a lead foot.”
“Sorry, Bill.” You said, lips trembling, stopping the car right over a curb, pulling your lip between your teeth, hands stiff on the steering wheel, shoulders taut.
And then you pulled out into one way, your heart racing as cars came at you. “Jesus, turn around up there.” He said, nails still digging into your thigh.
You stopped, hitting your forehead on the steering wheel.
He fisted your hair, leaning across the seat, eyes blurbing into yours, “Dumb bunny, what did I tell you about a one way?” he asked, and kissed you until you forgot to breathe. He pulled back spit following, dark eyes intense as he watched you, “Try again, sweetheart. And try not to rear end someone. Or I’ll have to make you work off the damages.” He teased you, straight faced.
“Really?!” You turned to him, gullible as ever, and backing into a light pole.
He clicked his tongue again.
Oh god, he was gonna make you walk to Target.
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He had a little bit too much faith in you. 😂
Driving Lessons.
*best friends/sometimes more, reader has a lead foot, kissing, fem!reader.*
• based on my first driving experience. I almost drove into a ditch.
• tagging; @e-dubbc11 @terry2227 @kayhi808 @bookloverfilmoholic @cant-help-simping @firequeensposts @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @thejanecampaign @oops89 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @zz-kennedy @vaguekayla @snowkestrel @fictional-hooman @milea @aoi-targaryen
*+*+*+*+*
You almost drove the Wraith into a sidewalk, as you pulled out in front of someone barely missing their fender as they cussed at you. It prompted Billy’s nails to dig into your thigh, leaving crescent shapes on your skin.
He clicked his tongue, “Slower, sweetheart. You got a lead foot.”
“Sorry, Bill.” You said, lips trembling, stopping the car right over a curb, pulling your lip between your teeth, hands stiff on the steering wheel, shoulders taut.
And then you pulled out into one way, your heart racing as cars came at you. “Jesus, turn around up there.” He said, nails still digging into your thigh.
You stopped, hitting your forehead on the steering wheel.
He fisted your hair, leaning across the seat, eyes blurbing into yours, “Dumb bunny, what did I tell you about a one way?” he asked, and kissed you until you forgot to breathe. He pulled back spit following, dark eyes intense as he watched you, “Try again, sweetheart. And try not to rear end someone. Or I’ll have to make you work off the damages.” He teased you, straight faced.
“Really?!” You turned to him, gullible as ever, and backing into a light pole.
He clicked his tongue again.
Oh god, he was gonna make you walk to Target.
36 notes
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Driving Lessons.
*best friends/sometimes more, reader has a lead foot, kissing, fem!reader.*
• based on my first driving experience. I almost drove into a ditch.
• tagging; @e-dubbc11 @terry2227 @kayhi808 @bookloverfilmoholic @cant-help-simping @firequeensposts @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @thejanecampaign @oops89 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @zz-kennedy @vaguekayla @snowkestrel @fictional-hooman @milea @aoi-targaryen
*+*+*+*+*
You almost drove the Wraith into a sidewalk, as you pulled out in front of someone barely missing their fender as they cussed at you. It prompted Billy’s nails to dig into your thigh, leaving crescent shapes on your skin.
He clicked his tongue, “Slower, sweetheart. You got a lead foot.”
“Sorry, Bill.” You said, lips trembling, stopping the car right over a curb, pulling your lip between your teeth, hands stiff on the steering wheel, shoulders taut.
And then you pulled out into one way, your heart racing as cars came at you. “Jesus, turn around up there.” He said, nails still digging into your thigh.
You stopped, hitting your forehead on the steering wheel.
He fisted your hair, leaning across the seat, eyes blurbing into yours, “Dumb bunny, what did I tell you about a one way?” he asked, and kissed you until you forgot to breathe. He pulled back spit following, dark eyes intense as he watched you, “Try again, sweetheart. And try not to rear end someone. Or I’ll have to make you work off the damages.” He teased you, straight faced.
“Really?!” You turned to him, gullible as ever, and backing into a light pole.
He clicked his tongue again.
Oh god, he was gonna make you walk to Target.
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when the story is just not working, but you keep writing anyway
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Little bird.
*bodyguard!Billy, mutual pining, fem!reader*
It’s just a little scene I thought of. Might not gonna be apart of or connected to anything. I just had to get it out. The little bird who craved the violence and darkness of the panther.
@terry2227 @kayhi808 @e-dubbc11 @aoi-targaryen @firequeensposts @oops89 @thejanecampaign @bookloverfilmoholic @littleblackcatinwonderland @cant-help-simping @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @danzer8705 @zz-kennedy @fictional-hooman @firexfate @rosaleenablack @idaofinfinity @russosafehaven @gh0stf1c3 @milea @snowkestrel
&&&&&&
You were sitting cross legged on your quilt reading from your novel, when you heard his footsteps on the wooden floors of your old manor. Billy came in, “Settled, little bird?” His nearly black eyes shined with something dark, as he watched you with your hair rollers in, Wuthering Heights in your lap.
He leaned against your doorframe and the only thing you were aware of more than the crickets outside was his casual ease with which he interacted with you.
You wanted to reach out to him, drawn to his casual dominance, but your fear of men crippled you, but the knowledge that he was here to protect you made you yearn, a dull ache between your thighs that threatened to tear you apart. “Are you my bodyguard or my nanny, Billy?” You teased him quietly, playing with the page in your book. He was captivating with a dark edge, like a sharp dagger gliding along velvet.
He walked in, the floor creaking under his feet again. The crickets seemed louder. His mouth brushed your forehead as he tucked the blanket around you. “Got a bite tonight, don’t you? Sleep tight, little bird.” He husked, breath fanning across your face, making your eyes flutter.
You sucked in a breath, “You too, panther.” You murmured, and his eyes flicked to yours, and they threatened to swallow you whole.
His lips curved up, he touched your forehead with his finger, before pushing your head back. “Careful not to tease the cat. I eat little birds.”
“Hawks eat cats. Maybe I’m a hawk.” You retorted, even as you chased his touch.
His fingers touched your chin, “You’re too soft.” He said, regretfully.
You blinked and he walked out. This wasn’t the time to have a crush on your bodyguard with that maniac on the loose. But as you looked at your book, you realized you weren’t really paying attention as you flipped through it.
You were drawn to Billy, his violence, his darkness, and that was a very dangerous thing to be drawn to. Stupid, even.
Cats ate birds.
But didn’t you crave his devouring?
You blew out a breath of air, your bangs blowing up. “Oh, fiddlesticks.”
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“Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.”
— Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited
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