Green Is Not Your Colour (1) - Coriolanus Snow.

Her soul belongs to words and books. Every time she reads, she is home.

“We mothers stand still so our daughters can look back to see how far they have come.”

Okay but Billy with an innocent reader>>>>>>>> LIKE HES SO PROTECTIVE OML

billy + innocent!reader

stop i love this. this should be an au hell i may just write more for it

tw— for use of a gun, toothrotting fluff

request

"go ahead, honey. pull the trigger." billy's voice is sweet against your ear.

your face morphs into a coy apprehension, "and you're sure this won't send me flying on my rear?"

he chuckles, straightening your arms a bit, "m'right here, i won't let that happen."

your eyes focus in on the three rusty cans in the distance, set atop a dry rotting log. you know there's no way you're going to hit them all. you'd be lucky to hit one.

but billy is adamant in both that you need to learn how to shoot, and that you’ll be a ‘natural’. his driving objective, however, being that since he can't be with you from sun up to sun down, he'll have to settle with teaching you how to fend for yourself.

it's not unlike him to behave this way. in the months you've known the gunslinger, you've come to find that his urge to protect you is enormous.

his protection isn't reserved just against the infamous wild men of the west, but rather, anything and anyone. if it could possibly do you harm, physically or mentally, he's there to guard and defend.

like a knight out of the princess tales your mother used to tell you.

you let out a harsh breath before your finger begins to press into the trigger. too soft at first, the metal remains in its' spot, you muster up all your courage and pull the trigger. your eyes are screwed shut as the bullet whistles away, and you quickly turn into billy.

his arms ensnare you, wrapping you tight, "what're you hidin' for? you hit it dead center, sweetheart!"

you lift your head, staring unabashedly into his blue eyes, "did i really?"

he hums, using his dominant hand to steer your gaze away from him and toward the target. sure enough, the can on the left side has a small hole right in its middle.

billy chuckles, his chest rumbling against your back, "told you, my girl's a natural."

you can't help but grin, the tension releasing from your shoulders, "or i've got a good teacher." you tease.

he gives you a squeeze before letting go, gesturing toward the cans, "c'mon, let's see if you can do it again."

emboldened by your first success, you square your shoulders and take aim. this time, you focus a bit more, remembering the sensation of the recoil and trying to replicate it. the shot rings out, and you open your eyes to find another can hit.

billy lightly claps you on the back, "see? just like that, sweetheart."

as you reload, you can't help but appreciate the way the afternoon sun plays on his weathered hat, casting thin rays upon his lips, "m’not as hopeless as i thought."

he grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "do i e’ver lie to you?”

you ignore his sly remark, focusing back in on your targets. with newfound confidence, you continue to practice, the rhythmic sound of gunshots filling the air. as the sun begins its descent, casting a warm glow over the landscape.

the sounds of gunfire continue, each shot feeling more controlled and confident than the last. with every successful hit, billy's pride in your progress shines through his loving stare. he stands by your side, offering guidance and encouragement, a quiet guardian in the backdrop of your learning.

as the sun dips even lower, casting a dim hue over the landscape, you catch a glimpse of billy watching you with a softness in his eyes. he often got this way, completely lost in you. especially when you're doing things his way— not in the way you'd normally feel inclined. you're rather tame and harmless in comparison to billy, the entire west, really.

growing up away from the fast-growing townships and travelers, when you met billy he completely flipped your world upside down. you gave him all your firsts, shooting his pistol only adds to the expansive list of firsts you've given him.

you go to take aim again, eyes closing as you shoot, still too frightened to keep them open— your bullet flies past your targets, missing entirely. you've grown used to the sound of a hit and when you open your eyes to find the miss, you groan.

billy's safeguarding nature becomes even more apparent as you meet his winsome eyes, his gaze lingers on you, subtle worry etched on his features.

he knows you're inexperienced, a stark contrast to the harsh realities of the world he's accustomed to. he knows it isn't, but if this were a shootout, that big of a miss would have cost you your life.

the mere thought of you in that situation is something he's not willing to entertain.

"you're doing mighty fine, sweetheart," he reassures, a tenderness in his voice that speaks volumes, "but remember, there's more to this than cans and targets. gotta keep those pretty eyes of yours open, alright?"

you nod, appreciating his concern and the earnest care he extends. it dawns on you that learning to shoot isn't just a practical skill— it's a testament to the depth of billy's affection. he's arming you with more than just a handgun— he's giving you a piece of his own resilience and determination.

as the sun sets, casting long shadows across the landscape, you take a moment to stand side by side with billy, appreciating the warmth of his presence. the sky paints hues of orange and pink, a picturesque backdrop to the bond that's been forged between you.

"thanks, billy," you say, sincerity lacing your words. "for teaching me, for being patient."

he smiles, a softness in his expression that contrasts with the rugged exterior, "my pleasure, sweetheart. always want you to be able to take care of yourself."

with the last rays of sunlight fading, you holster the gun, feeling a newfound sense of empowerment. billy wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you back towards the homestead. as you walk together, the echoes of gunshots in the ears serve as a reminder that you're not just learning to shoot— you're learning to navigate billy's world, and with his protection, you're sure you'll do just fine.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

For old times sake is actually such a heartbreaking and beautiful sentiment. Like, let’s do it for the love that used to be here. It is reason enough.

“you forgive her too easily”

she’s my mum, i reply, who else will if i won’t?

.

You guys don't understand.

I would do ANYTHINGGG for this man

How does this white boy have a hold over me

Callum, this. Are you hearing me sir? MORE OF THIS.

— is it a crime? | III.

pairing: austin butler inspired male oc x kat graham inspired fem oc (calisto and alcacia) summary: it’s been some time since calisto and alcacia have spoken. even with the distance between them and the ongoing heartache she felt at the hands of the man she loved, she can’t seem to let him go. warnings: toxic relationship. emotional manipulation. nsfw themes (no smut though). alcohol consumption.language. potential tag list (these people tend to interact the most. let me know if you want to be added/removed): @neeville @dulcewrites @crash-and-cure @cvpidspearl l @blackwriter48 @wonderprince @venus2eros @adoreyouusugar @sunshinetoday1 @cosmic-parker @wacoshuffle @kaitaesupremacy

note: long time so see :)

Calisto’s guilt ate at him like an animal after its prey. He wasn’t stupid. She used every tactic in the Book of Avoidance to delay their meeting and interactions. He practically wrote the novel himself. 

He hardly knew why he was so offended when she swerved past him once she walked through the large double doors of his luxury home. Her green eyes stayed ahead of her and the only thing he caught was the sway of her hips and a whiff of her strong perfume. It wasn’t soft and gentle like he was used to. It exuded dominance and authority. 

She sat across from him, eyes focused on the people adjacent to her, the steak ahead of her, and the wine accompanying her. He found it difficult to keep his eyes off her blood-painted lips. She was never a red lipstick person; he wondered whatchanged. How much she had changed. 

Her voice was raspier than he recognized. She spoke slower and with more intention, like she learned a thing or two. He was mesmerized. He was for her, what she was for him just months prior. However, he was more than aware of how things changed when she cursed him in the bathroom after he followed her. 

The version of himself that neglected and abused her emotions would have been confused as to why his smoldering eyes didn’t cause her knees to buckle in adoration, but for her lips to twist in disgust. After months of reflection, he realized that the pain he caused was a simple effect of his own selfishness and pride. Not only had he lost the woman who’d never loved him to begin with, but he lost the one whom he’d known since childhood and loved him into adulthood. He had never known anyone to be that foolish, save for himself. Such a shame. 

He found himself staring at her phone number off and on for hours. The screen would lock and he’d scramble to come face to face with her name and number again. It taunted him. It knew he didn’t have the guts to call or text. How could he? He saw it in her eyes--she thought of him as the scum of the earth. 

And to some extent, she was right. 

More photos from VMAN Magazine