#billy dunne x reader angst

[nomorespahgetti]

[daisyjonesgf]

Okay the same reader as the fight one but imagine if someone in the band sees how much they fight and offers to take her off his hands…or goes to her about it

long blurb with mentions of drinking, drugs, smoking, and nsfw topics

me about to write another long ass blurb, but thinking about eddie pining after reader and always watching, thinking about how she could do so much better then billy fucking dunne

you're always fighting and leaving until billy calls you back or you get bored again so you show up. rarely is there apologies, sometimes he tells you that your his muse and he needs you around as some sort of half apology to say you're not replaceable with just any groupie. but you let it work on you because when things are good, they're good, he's kind, and loving, so sweet, but the bad is the worst it possibly could be. and for how you tell yourself you've always known he wouldn't pick you forever, wouldn't settle down and that you were okay with that, you just know you're lying to yourself. because when you find out that last fight you had where you stomped off afterwards and spent a couple of hours sitting in a diner crying, billy was busy getting sucked off my some other groupie, you think this might be your limit. for all you've said you'd never actually even dreamed of even looking at anyone else and the pain in your chest is so immense. it only gets worse as you listen to billy and the rest of the band perform some song her wrote about you, a confirmation of his feelings without him having to commit face to face with you. it makes your blood boil when he's singing about how regardless of everything he'll always pick you, always want you.

so when everyone finishes and he's smiling looking over at you with a, "so, what'd you think, baby?" and you pull out that slow clap you hope he knows he's done fucked up because the rest of the band sure does. and he doesn't ask if you're okay or look too concerned, just annoyed, scoffing slightly, "what now?"

"I think you're a liar and the whole thing is fucking bullshit!" You announce

"don't do this right now, we're trying to rehearse." his frustration only serves as fuel to your fire, and you look around the room to see the awkward glances around the room, eddie glaring holes into the back of billy's head.

"what? do you want me to say you did a great job, give you a kiss and hug, and then scamper off so some other girl can suck you off? is that what you want billy?"

"not right now. if you're not gonna sit there and do what you're good at, then get out of the studio. go spend some of your daddy's money, you'll get over it."

his dismissivness makes you want to scream. how dare he. why did you have to fall for someone like him? "like you've said, I'm sure you can find some other groupie to give you praise and attention. you're the fucking worst, billy."

you're storming out of the room, followed by his voice, "you're not the only pretty girl! one of so fucking many!"

you don't know how long you've spent sitting on the cold cement, back up against the building as you smoke a cigarette. trying desperately not to cry because you just want him to love you the way movies told you men loved. but this wasn't a movie, he was a fucking rockstar and you were in fact just another groupie who he was sick of. the way you wanted to cry was embarrassing and you quick wiped away any stray tears when you heard footsteps approaching.

"mind if I join you?" and there was eddie, trying to give a comforting smile. you shook your head and he sat down, your offered him a cigarette which he took, for a while it was silent. "you deserve better."

you laughed, "yeah, maybe." no, you knew you did, but you didn't want better. you were too attached to billy dunne. "did he call some kind of break or did you just storm out? bet he'd love that."

eddie chuckled, he loathed billy, so the latter would've been just fine with him. "called a break." you thought about how right now billy was probably busy getting fucked by some other girl, some other groupie who had patiently waited her turn. you didn't mean to sniffle, but you did. suddenly eddie's lips were on yours, you wanted to lean into the soft, loving comfort but you couldn't. it felt wrong.

"eddie-" you muttered as you pulled away.

"he doesn't see you like I do, you deserve to be treated so much better, and he's stupid for not being able to see that. just because he's the lead singer doesn't mean you have to be stuck as his groupie, especially when he treats you like you're disposable."

"eddie, I can't do that to him. it's wrong."

"he does everything he can with other girls except fucking them, you're allowed to have something."

"well, I'm just me and he's billy goddamn dunne."

"he's just billy dunne, and you're strong, perseverant, beautiful, funny, compassionate, the whole damn package." you snort through the laughter which makes him smile, and you feel bad because he's sweet, you like him, but you've had a taste of billy and are desperately trying to hold onto ship. "he's too lucky, let me give you what you deserve-"

"what's going on?" billy's voice interrupts the rest of eddie's speech that you honestly might have fallen for, if you focused on the actually being able to constantly feel appreciated by some someone. eddie glares at the other man.

"we're talking." you say softly as billy walks closer. he holds a hand out to you expectantly.

"come inside with me, baby. let's talk in private." eddie's eyes are urging you to refuse, to stay with him, but you don't heed the look. so you take billy's hand a and let him lift you off the ground.

and it's hard to miss the way eddie gazes at you after the that, the way he comforts you post arguments and reminds you not to take it to heart, and you feel bad that the way you burn for billy is a forest fire compared to the way you burn for eddie. and he spends his days waiting for you to realize billy was never worth the struggle and to have him instead.

@nomorespahgetti

[camilaswife]

Brighter days ahead

finnick odair x reader

Content warnings: angst, death, cursing, miscarriage

Brighter days inc.

Thats what the agreement paper said in front of me said, it had some terms and conditions that I didn't bother reading, I just signed it and waited for my turn. My left ear started ringing so I gripped the side of my head thinking the pain would go away. I slightly heard a nurse call my name three times so I raised my hand as best as I could, she came over to me and told me that they were ready for me.

The nurse took the agreement paper out of my hand and lead my wheelchair to a hallway where I heard a young girl in another room crying because she was about to get her memories erased, everytime I came here to do the same, I would play this fucked up game where I would guess what or who each patient was going to erase from there memory, I never did get the answers for any of them though, I just guessed and left it for my imagination.

I had come to this clinic many times in my life, the first time I came here was five years after finnick had passed away, the next was a year after that to erase the memory of winning the 69th hunger games, the memory of all the people in the capitol, those filthy heartless motherfuckers, I had even erased the memory of katniss and peeta, not wanting to remember anything at all from those torturous years of having to put on a facade for all the people, from all of those years of being used and sold for your body without any one's permission.

All I wanted was to live like that never happened, I wanted to only remember the good in my life, the peaceful. Which is why I never got rid of the memories of finnick, he was the only peaceful thing in my life...

The nurse stopped in front of a locked room to scan her work card, a robotic figure came out of a hole in the wall that was closed and said "stand by for biometric identification" it scanned me and spoke again.

"Access granted. Welcome back, sunshine" it said before going back into its place, the locked doors of the room opened into a dark hallway. The nurse walked me into the hallway as bright lights turned on revealing some sort of dome like place we were in. She led my wheelchair to a desk looking station and turned on the screen in front of me.

"WELCOME BACK, SUNSHINE" it read in big bold letters, the screen changed to say that I had four memories left, I already knew which ones were left but nonetheless I wanted to relive them in a way.

"Alright, it says here you have four memories left, which one would you like to watch?" The nurse asked me politely. I lifted up the clutch I had in my lap and struggled to open it before taking out a note that said "all of them" and handing it to her. She nodded and set the memories up for me to watch, four crystal balls came out ot a tube that was connected to the desk like place.

"Okay, it's all set up for you to watch, just press this button to select the memory you want to watch and I'll be in the next room if you need anything okay?" I gave her a slight nod before she left, my less weak arm reached out and pressed the first memory out of the four.

"NOW PLAYING MEMORY ONE."

The first crystal ball rolled from the tube to a holder in front of me, projecting the memory.

"Finnick I don't think I can even handle this shit." I tell him as I try to fix my too tight corset that barely let me breathe.

"honey, we'll be out of here soon enough so you can get that thing off of you." he brought a warm hand to my arm and rubbed circles softly into it. we were at a meaningless victor party that was nothing more than a place where rich assholes would spew about their so called "problems" to people like me and finnick who had to go through hell and back to survive.

"Well I need time to go by faster. Finnick, you know that I hate these things and that I would rather rip my own head off than have to talk to these motherfuck-" I was interrupted by a man who was one of the men who insisted that I should be their "lovers" before, how delightful.

I greeted him with a fake warm smile as he said hello to me and finnick, trying my best to put up that familiar facade.

"Do you mind if I steal this beautiful young lady for a moment" he said in a tone that said "you have no choice to say no".

Finnick's charming smile faltered a little but he covered it up with a chuckle. "Well it's not up to me is it? What matters is what the lady says" he turned his gaze to me, looking worried. I looked back at the man and made an excuse.

"I apologize but I have some other people I have to introduce myself too, maybe on another occasion we can talk private-"

"They can wait. Now come, I'm dying to have a private conversation with you" the man interrupted yet again, he started tugging at my arm to leave. I looked back at finnick but just as he was about to follow us so I could quickly get out of the situation, a pretty young lady came up to him making him turn to her and right when he looked back to where I previously was. I was gone.

The man took me to a room I didn't know existed in snow's mansion, he sat down on one of the couches and patted the spot next to him, signaling for me to sit down.

"Oh come on don't act shy." He said in an annoyed tone. I walked over and sat next to him, putting some distance between us, he quickly put his hand on my leg.

"So do you still do let people have the pleasure of your company?" His hand went further up my leg, that familiar feeling of disgust came crawling back just like all those years ago.

"n-no i don't actually, i don't do that anymore" I said looking straight down at the floor, i wanted to do nothing but stand up, punch him then tell him to fuck off, but i wasn't gonna risk the lives of my family like that. he lifted his hand off of my leg and brought it up to my chin, lifting it up so my eyes would meet his. He got closer and closer to me and i just froze. "maybe if i don't move he wont do anything" is what i thought the entire time he got closer to me.

"What a shame, i would've loved to have your... services, at my disposal" he said before leaning in completely to kiss me, my hands went in to tight fists on my lap, slightly clutching the silky dress i was wearing. his other hand went up my waist and started roughly gripping it, i just sat there, frozen, doing nothing to kiss him back or lean in to him, and the psycho bitch thought i was into it.

his hand that was on my waist was going to attempt to slip off the strap part of my dress before he got interrupted by the door opening, and i didn't have to turn to know who it was.

"do you need something finnick? can't you see we're busy?" he said an a arrogant tone to finnick. i sat there looking down at the floor to cover up the fact that tears were welling up in my eyes, praying to whatever was out there that finnick could get me out of this like he always did.

"My apologies, but president snow is requesting to see the lady and well you can't say no to that now can you?" the man stood up offering me a hand that i didn't take. i stood up and quickly walked over to finnick, not saying a single word during this interaction. His warm hand went and grasped my hand before intertwining his fingers with mine, as we walked I finally spoke up.

"finnick, it was gonna happen ag-" he stopped walking and said "no, I would never allow that to happen to you ever again, I'll always protect you, okay?" I nodded, feeling comfort in his words.

"just stay by my side, sunshine." he gave me his charming smile and I gave one back. He leaned in and gave a quick soft peck to my lips, giving me comfort even in these situations

"MEMORY ONE, DESTOYED" the robotic voice spoke again. My hand went back and chose the second memory.

The soothing sounds of the waves took over my ears as i laid in the soft sand with my head on finnick's chest, hearing his heartbeat and breathing. it was a perfect moment.

"finnick?" I asked, my fingers making circles on finnick's side. he replied with a soft hum.

"I- um..." he sat up slightly, hearing the worry in my voice.

"Honey, you okay?" I nodded slightly and sat up.

"F-finnick I'm pregnant." I said tears threatening to spill. His mouth slightly dropped open, his sea green eyes softening. He immediately pulled me into a tight bear hug but quickly loosened it a little to not hurt me, relief washed over me in a wave. Finnick was never the type of person to get angry but I still had that nagging voice in the back of my head telling me that he was gonna leave me and not want me anymore.

"W-we're gonna be parents? Together." He said with his face buried in my shoulder and his arms gripping around me like his life depended on it. I nodded against him and hugged him back even tighter than before, we were finally going to get to be happy together... until we couldn't anymore.

MEMORY TWO, DESTROYED. I didn't want to click the next memory, I knew what was happening after that and I've been avoiding it ever since he passed away, but yet unconsciously, my hand reached out and pressed it.

NOW PLAYING, MEMORY THREE.

"Finnick!!" I shouted as I sat on the bathroom floor, tears rolling down my cheeks. I looked at the blood on my hands in shock, why? Why was this happening to me? To us? Why is it that when we were finally going to be happy it gets fucked over yet again?

Finnick ran to the bathroom and pulled the door open immediately seeing me on the floor crying, but most importantly he saw blood, on my hands, smeared on the floor, he instantly knew what had happened. He sat down on the floor next to me, pulling me in and stroking my hair as I buried my face into his chest.

"Honey, shh, it's okay. I'm here for you" he said trying his best to soothe me. Tears had rolled down his face onto my hair as he kissed my head, rocking me back and forth.

All that was going through my mind was "how could this happen" I mean, im perfectly healthy, I hadn't drank at all, everything was fine, until life decided to fuck me over again.

After a while, i cleaned myself up and went to bed, or at least tried to, with finnick. My head was on his chest, hearing his breathing and heartbeat just like the day I told him I was pregnant. My sniffles and finnick's breathing were the only thing occupying noise in the room, we didn't have to say a word to comfort and understand each other.

I was only three months pregnant when I had the miscarriage. Three fucking months in. I didn't understand and I still don't understand how I lost the baby if I was healthy and well, but I just guess it was fate. But if it was, honestly, fuck fate.

MEMORY THREE, DESTROYED.

For the last time, my hand reached out hesitantly to choose the last memory, I too, a deep breath as the memory started.

"Finnick watch out!" I screamed as a mutt tried to jump on him, he quickly stabbed it's head with his trident, I ran to the ladder where we were supposed to escape in but a mutt quickly tried to attack me, I stabbed it where the heart would be with the long blade of my sword.

I quickly ran after peeta to climb the ladder and once a made it to the top, I thought I was safe, waiting for finnick and katniss to come up as well.

I saw katniss climb the ladder so I gave her a hand lifting her up until i saw finnick climbing a couple seconds after her, a mutt jumped onto the ladder and pulled finnick down making him hit his back and land in the water.

"FINNICK!" I screamed katniss doing the same after me, his agonizing screams were all I heard and suddenly my sobs started coming out as I screamed his name multiple times.

I said his name over and over again in a piercing scream as I clutched my chest, but it was already too late for him, through my buzzing ears I heard katniss say "nightlock, nightlock, nightlock" before throwing the holo into the water making it explode, I fell back before katniss was pulling me up and and pulling me to go.

That day is the day that I never wanted to remember, that day was the day my happiness ended. I loved him with all of my being, and I would've sacrificed myself for him, I didn't want to remember finnick in a torturous way, I didn't want to remember him and be sad. So I didn't. I remembered all the special moments we had in secret, all the times we would lay on the beach or our bed and just be with each other, with no other worries. That's how I wanted to remember him. The one thing from his death that i will hold onto forever though, is that from what I saw, he mouthed I love you to me before what happened, and maybe it didn't happen, maybe I'm just in constant denial. But I was gonna hold on to the memory of him saying I love you to me forever, even in death...

MEMORY FOUR, DESTROYED. YOUR SESSION IS COMPLETE.

The lights faded to black as I closed my eyes, savoring my last moments, my last thoughts. Maybe in heaven or wherever you went after you died, I would reunite with finnick, and finally get to have peace together, for eternity.

Or maybe we would meet again in our next life at a studio where our eyes would meet again and feel that instant spark as completely different people...

[ssweeterthanfiction]

party 4 u

billy dunne x party girl fem!reader (MODERN AU) content warnings: angst summary: billy didn’t show up. wc: 3.3k

masterlist.

"This is gonna be one of THE best parties I throw Billy, like you seriously don't get it!" you say excitedly.

You were in the Six's studio, hanging out with Billy Dunne, the man that you had at first couldn't stand, but now have become infatuated with.

"It's gonna be 70s themed and it's gonna give like old Sunset Strip type vibes and it's just gonna be iconic," you continue, practically bouncing in place. "Like, velvet everything, neon signs, disco balls... it’s gonna be hot, sweaty, loud—everyone's gonna lose their minds."

Billy chuckled under his breath, leaning back in the worn-out studio couch, guitar still resting across his lap. "Sounds...big," he said, raising an eyebrow. He was trying to sound casual, unimpressed even, but you caught the little twitch of a smile he was fighting.

"Exactly! Big! Huge! I mean, I’m calling in favors, getting the best DJs, maybe even a surprise performance if I can swing it."

He chuckles under his breath, like he doesn't want to admit he's amused. "You throwing this whole circus just for the hell of it?"

You hesitate—just a second too long—and then flash a grin that's just a little too bright. "Maybe."

In truth, it wasn't for just anyone. It was for him. It was for you and him, in some tiny desperate way you weren't ready to say out loud yet.

You go quiet for just a second, then, "You should come," you say, too casual to be truly casual.

Billy taps his fingers against the guitar strings, thinking. You can see the little crack in his armor—the way his jaw shifts, the way his eyes flicker over to you, just for a second longer than he probably meant them to.

"You know parties aren’t really my thing," he says eventually, voice low and almost apologetic.

"Yeah, well," you shrug, trying to seem unfazed even though your heart’s pounding. "Neither is smiling, and you still do that sometimes."

He huffs a laugh through his nose, head tipping back against the couch.

"You’d like it, though," you push, voice softening. "You need it, if you ask me. Just...forget all the heavy shit for a night. Let yourself be a little messy. And...bring the band too."

Billy looks at you again, really looks at you, and for a second, you think he might say yes.

Instead, he says, "We’ll see."

But there’s something different in the way he says it this time. Something that makes you believe he’ll show.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd show up for you.

The venue was alive with energy, the kind of chaotic, beautiful mess that only a party like this could create. You could barely hear yourself think over the heavy bass of "Give It Up" by KC and the Sunshine Band blasting through the speakers, but you didn’t mind. The lights were low, bathed in a orange haze, and neon signs hung from the walls, flickering in time with the music, casting everything in a surreal glow. Disco balls spun above, casting glittering reflections all over the room. Velvet couches and gold-framed mirrors lined the space, while guests in bell-bottoms and feathered hair swirled around, drinks in hand, dancing like it was 1974 all over again.

You’d outdone yourself. This was your world. Your energy. The scene was hot, sweaty, loud, everything you promised. It felt like the kind of night you were born for.

And yet, as you swirled your drink in your hand, you couldn’t help but scan the crowd. Over and over again, your eyes flicked from one face to the next, scanning the dimly lit space for the one that mattered most.

Billy.

The longer you waited, the more the doubt crept in. Had he really meant it when he said he’d come? Was he just being polite? You tried to shrug it off, taking a deep breath and making your way over to the bar for another round. You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t obsess over it. It was just a party, just a night to have fun.

But the music kept pushing, the bass thumping under your ribs as “Don't Stop Me Now” by Queen blasted through the speakers. The crowd was wild, people losing themselves in the music, but there was a part of you that couldn’t quite join in the same way, a part that kept drifting back to the door, wondering when, or if, Billy was going to show.

You caught sight of one of your friends and you tried to smile, trying to remind yourself that this was your night. But then...no. You looked back at the door.

Nothing. No Billy.

“Hey!” she shouted over the music, suddenly beside you, her eyes twinkling. “This party is literally crazy! Have you seen—" She paused, glancing at you. “You okay?”

You flashed her a tight smile. “Yeah, of course. Just...you know, waiting for someone.”

“Ohhhhhh,” she grinned, her lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “Waiting for a certain guitar man, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the truth. You were waiting for him.

The DJ switched to “Fame” next, and the crowd erupted in cheers. You could feel the room shift, bodies moving more freely, more wildly. The energy had reached its peak. But still, no sign of Billy.

You pressed your lips together, watching people spin in neon light, catching fleeting moments of laughter and joy, trying so hard to enjoy it without feeling like you were waiting for a ghost. You could feel your anxiety bubbling, like all of this—all of this was for him, and if he didn’t show, if he didn’t come through, you’d be...disappointed in a way that wasn’t just about the party.

You should’ve been more like him, you told yourself. More cool, more aloof. But no, you were here, waiting, hoping, wishing he would walk through that door.

The bass thudded again, and for a split second, you thought you saw him. But it wasn’t him. Just some guy with a leather jacket and messy hair. You shook your head and pulled yourself out of your own thoughts.

Focus, you reminded yourself.

Focus on the party. On yourself. On what you’ve built.

Still, you couldn’t help but glance at the door one last time, before you turned back to the dance floor, swallowing the knot in your throat.

You were about to give up on scanning the door for the hundredth time when, out of the swirling, glittery chaos of the crowd, you spotted a familiar figure.

“Warren!” you practically shrieked, shoving through a cluster of dancers.

There he was, Warren Rojas, drummer of The Six, dressed like he’d stepped straight out of 1976, a fur lined denim vest with nothing underneath, bell bottoms, sunglasses, and beat-up boots. He looked ridiculous and perfect at the same time.

He turned at the sound of your voice, breaking into a huge grin. “There’s my favorite party girl!” he whooped, throwing his arms open.

You launched yourself at him, laughing as he spun you once and set you down. He smelled like whiskey and weed and way too much cologne, and for a moment, the excitement came rushing back. Because if Warren was here...that meant the rest of the band was too. And if the band was here, Billy was here.

"You look fucking amazing," Warren shouted over the music, giving you an approving once-over. You twirled dramatically for him, showing off your outfit — a tiny gold lamé mini dress, platform gogo boots, and a faux fur jacket slipping off your shoulders, all shimmering under the orange and pink haze of the lights. Your hair was teased big, your lips glossy. A fever dream of the 70s.

"Right?" you beamed, breathless. "God, I'm so happy you made it-"

You paused, heart skipping. "Hey, where’s Billy?" you asked, looking around like he might suddenly appear behind Warren with that crooked little smirk of his.

But Warren’s face shifted. His easy grin faltered, replaced by a furrowed brow. "You didn’t know?" he asks, voice pitched low. "He didn’t tell you?"

The music roared in your ears, but you heard every word.

You blinked, feeling the ground slip slightly under your feet. "Tell me what?" you ask, even though you already knew. You could feel it in your gut.

Warren scratched the back of his head, looking genuinely sorry. "He’s not coming," he says. "Something about...I don’t know, man, studio stuff, he didn’t really explain. Said he couldn’t make it."

Oh.

You stood there, the glittering world around you suddenly hollow. All the planning, the velvet couches, the neon lights, the hours spent making sure every stupid detail was perfect, for what? For who?

Your throat tightened, the tears welling up so fast it shocked you. You blinked furiously, but it didn’t matter, the dim orange haze of the party masked everything. No one would notice if you cracked a little.

"Hey," Warren says, noticing your shift, his voice gentle. "You okay?"

You wiped under your eyes quickly, giving him your biggest, brightest smile. A performance worthy of the stage.

"Are you kidding?" you laugh, twirling again so he wouldn’t see the way your hands shook. "I’m fucking amazing."

And maybe if you said it enough times, it would be true.

You threw your head back and laughed again, too loud, too sharp, and clinked your glass against Warren’s before disappearing back into the chaos of the party.

If Billy wasn’t going to be here, then fine. You weren’t going to sit around waiting like some sad little groupie.

You were going to dance. You were going to drink. You were going to forget.

You threw yourself into the party with a vengeance. You danced like the floor was burning beneath you, like if you moved fast enough, you wouldn’t have to feel anything at all.

The DJ had cranked it up to "Le Freak" by Chic now, the bass pounding so hard it rattled your ribs. You tilted your head back and laughed, too loud, too sharp, clutching the first drink someone handed you and knocking it back without asking what it was. The neon signs blurred into streaks of pink and orange and gold.

You kept moving. Kept laughing. Kept drinking.

Another round. Another song. Another fake smile. You let yourself be pulled into spinning circles of dancers, your hair flying wild around your face, your gold dress clinging to your skin as you jumped and twirled and let strangers lift your arms and shout lyrics at the ceiling.

You were alive, you told yourself.

You were burning bright.

You were unstoppable.

You were lying.

It was late. Late enough that the sky was starting to peel back into that bruised purple that came before dawn, late enough that the city felt hollowed out and strange.

You fumbled with your keys at the door, your hands still sticky with the memory of too many drinks, too much dancing, too much pretending.

When you finally pushed the door open and stepped inside, the silence hit you like a slap.

No music. No laughter. No neon haze to hide in.

Just the soft click of the door shutting behind you and the heavy, unbearable stillness of being alone.

You stood there, swaying slightly in your ruined party clothes, mascara smudged under your eyes, glitter clinging to your skin like tiny desperate memories. Your boots dangled loosely from your fingers, your other hand braced against the wall like you needed it to hold you up.

The numbness came creeping in slow and suffocating.

You leaned your forehead against the cool wood of the door, squeezing your eyes shut, willing yourself not to cry again. Not now. Not when it was over. Not when it was stupid.

Because it was stupid, wasn’t it? Throwing a whole party for a boy who didn’t even care enough to show up? Building a night out of fantasies and hoping, just hoping, he might want you back, even a little?

You let out a shaky, humorless laugh into the quiet. God, you felt pathetic.

You peeled yourself away from the door finally, the soft pad of your bare feet against the floor feeling too loud in the silence. Your whole body hurt, not from the dancing, not from the drinking, but from the aching empty space Billy Dunne had left behind without even knowing it.

Or maybe he did know. Maybe he just didn’t care.

You crossed the living room slowly, tossing your keys on the counter with a hollow clatter, and dropped your heels in the middle of the floor. You didn’t even bother to pick them up.

All that glitter, all that gold, none of it meant anything now.

You were just a girl in a too-small dress and a too-big heart, standing in the dark, wishing you hadn’t hoped so hard for something that was never really yours.

The next few days, you buried yourself in work.

Studio sessions, meetings, photo shoots, anything that kept you too busy to think, too busy to feel. You stopped answering Billy’s texts right away. Stopped hanging around the Six’s studio just to kill time, just to maybe catch a few minutes with him. Stopped letting your heart jump every time he looked at you.

It was easier that way. Or at least, it hurt less.

Because the truth was, you were embarrassed. Embarrassed that you had cared so much, embarrassed that you had built that night around the stupid hope he might care back. And angry. At him. At yourself. At the whole damn thing.

So you smiled at the cameras, you laughed with your team, you danced through your sets like the party had never even happened. You wore your best armor, high heels, glossy lips, big sunglasses, thousand-watt smiles, and you refused to let the cracks show again.

And for a while, it worked.

Except Billy noticed.

He noticed the way you barely looked at him now when you crossed paths at the studio. How you gave him quick, polite smiles instead of teasing grins. How you kept conversations short, professional, cool.

At first, he brushed it off. Maybe you were just busy. Maybe he was imagining it.

But then two days turned into four, and four into a week, and every time he tried to catch your eye, you slipped away like water through his fingers.

One afternoon, while you were packing up your things after a session, he finally cornered you. Leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, that familiar furrow between his brows.

"You mad at me or something?" he asks, trying for casual but not quite pulling it off.

You didn’t look up from stuffing your lyrics notebook into your bag. "Nope," you say, voice light, too light. "All good."

"Doesn’t feel all good," he says, pushing off the doorframe. "Feels like you’re avoiding me."

You zipped your bag up hard, slinging it over your shoulder. "Maybe I’m just busy," you say, flashing him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

He watched you for a long second, like he was trying to figure you out, like maybe he knew there was something deeper you weren’t saying. But you didn’t give him the chance.

You just shrugged, tossed your hair over your shoulder, and walked past him out the door, leaving him standing there, confused and a little hollow, with nothing but questions and a sinking feeling he couldn’t quite name.

It was then a whirlwind of a few weeks since the party. You hadn’t seen Billy, and frankly, you had almost convinced yourself you were better off that way. You were busy. You had your work, your friends, your life, right? You didn’t need him.

But still, there was this nagging ache that you couldn't shake. It was in your stomach, it was in your hands, it was in your chest every time you thought about that night, about the empty hope you had poured into the party.

It took a couple days of pushing the feelings down to finally realize you had to do something about it. So you wrote.

The words came fast, a blur of emotion and frustration and longing. The lines you wrote were raw, messy, and unapologetic. The melody was a pulse, urgent, just like your need to get everything off your chest. You had no idea what you were writing at first. But the more you played it, the more it sounded like a confession. Like a love letter. To him, maybe? Or to the idea of him, to the illusion you’d been holding onto.

You were tired of pretending. Tired of letting the thoughts swirl around in your head like smoke, without a way to burn it all away.

The words felt like they were coming straight from the pit of your stomach. Every line was a piece of your heart you didn’t want to let go of. The glitter, the balloons, the drinks, the music, it had all been a backdrop to something bigger. A hope, a wish, a dream that you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding onto until it was all gone.

You’d been waiting. You had been waiting for him to show up, to walk through the door like the answer to your prayer. But he never did.

You spent hours in the studio, tweaking the beat, adding layers to the production, shaping the feeling behind it all. But as you hit play on the final version, you realized something, this song wasn’t just a heartbreak anthem. It was catharsis. It was releasing the weight of something you’d been carrying without even knowing it.

The rave was chaos in the best way. Flashes of neon sliced through the thick purple haze. Bodies packed tight, moving like one heartbeat under the bass that rattled the walls.

You stood behind the curtain, heart hammering against your ribs, one hand wrapped around the mic so tightly your knuckles went white.

You looked dangerous, untouchable, a black bodysuit glittered under your rhinestone-covered bomber jacket, your hair wild and messy like you'd just stumbled out of some afterparty. Tall black platform boots completed the look, making you tower even taller under the swirling stage lights.

You had a whole set lined up, but this...this was the one you were scared of. Your brand-new song. Your heart, dressed up in synths and glitter and desperation.

party 4 u.

You weren't supposed to care if he heard it. You weren't supposed to think about him anymore. You weren't supposed to wonder if he'd even show up to something like this.

But you did. God, you did.

You nodded at your DJ, gave the signal, and the opening notes of the track oozed out over the crowd, syrupy and slow, a heartbeat echoing in the dark.

The curtain lifted.

A roar met you, a sea of faces screaming, reaching, alive. You grinned, threw your arms open wide, and let the music swallow you whole.

Your voice dripped out of the speakers, sweet and aching. The crowd swayed and pulsed around you, hands in the air, the bass vibrating under your skin.

Pink balloons bobbed against the ceiling. Lasers painted the room in electric blue and fuchsia. Somewhere off to the side, someone popped champagne straight into the air, raining gold drops down over the sweaty, glitter-slicked crowd.

You danced, you sang, you covered up the hurt you were feeling.

Every lyric, every breathless, bittersweet line, you poured it all out without knowing.

And somewhere in the mass of bodies, not far from the stage, Billy Dunne stood frozen.

His heart thudded in his ears, drowning out the beat, as he stared up at you, this blinding, reckless, aching version of you, and realized.

Realized what he hadn't seen that night. What he'd missed. What he'd broken.

You were electric. You were alive. You were singing straight at him without even knowing he was there.

Billy shoved a hand through his hair, trying to breathe. He had never felt more like a fucking idiot in his life.

[slfglow]

════ 𝚂𝙻𝙵𝙶𝙻𝙾𝚆'𝚂 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰 𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 ════

𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹 🐚 — 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝖻𝗍 (𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘳)

Shell is a career tribute desperate to escape the miserable cycle of her old life. Yearing for everything she can't have,sick of settling for her little life in the wharf — the poorest areas of district 4 — scavenging for the remains that wasteful tourists from the capitol, left in their beach home. Shell wants more, and if she's anything,she's determined.

shell is courageous, charismatic and stubborn. filled with resentment for anyone slightly more fortune than her and driven by envy to make something of herself, be someone others wish they were, like she's done all her years. staring at the people who lived in the rook, wishing she was one of those lucky souls. so blind with want she doesn't even realise the finnick odair working tiredly to clear up every one of her misshaps

꧁ timeline ꧂

shell and finnick first cross paths when she sneaks into the battery — the unofficial and technically illegal, not that the peacekeepers care — training warehouse. With creaky wooden floors, growing mold and falling ceiling panels shell looks at it with lights in her eyes. So start struck finnick doesn't mention someone has sneaked into the building.

for weeks they worked side by side in their career training — shell not yet being caught — without a single exchange,just passing looks. A look from finnick that said 'i know you shouldn't be in here.'

the most memorable encounter was when shell practically forced herself on camera for finnick's district 4 interview. having been one of the few contenders of the 65th Hunger Games left they wanted to get an inside on the remaining tribute. making up some lie about being his close friend, spewing so much nonsense to have that interview — to finally show panem who would be running the country in a few years — it fell unknown to shell she had just saved finnick's life.

And then leads to the chapters of finnick's desperation to pay his debt back during the 67th Hunger Games

find out more under the 'shell🐚🐚' tag

𝘄𝗵𝗶𝘀𝗸𝗲𝘆 🥃 (𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘦,𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴)

whiskey's a bartender at 'Whiskey a Go Go' living her life in the small apartment above the infamous club — known for it's dirty secrets, loud music, famous guests and stocked with drunkards roaming the streets of Sunset Strip. On that very street she meets Billy Dunne and Daisy Jones her twin flames who set fire onto her life.

whiskey like the drink is intense, firey and wild. whiskey is blunt and unforgiving. Strong minded with morals chiseled into stone and a sharp tounge. Mean in nature yet every jab hurts so good. Addictive,like the drink. And if you know anything about Billy and Daisy, they get addicted way too easily.

꧁ timeline ꧂

whiskey met Daisy at 'Whiskey a Go Go' when they were 15. Daisy and her talk a few times and sometimes daisy comes back just to see her. Saying the club is where she first found her love for music,being there helps her write. but really all daisy wants is to see her

Ran into billy a few times in 1971 and 1972, while the Dunne Brothers band perform at Filthy McNasty's, a bar next to 'Whisky a Go Go'

Before their first performance, Billy pauses at the door to McNasty's and looks over at the sign for The Whisky, which reflects in his sunglasses. He can see whiskey through the glass and sudden wants to perform there that much more.

find out more under the'whiskey🥃🥃' tag

𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲 🌞 (𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦)

sunshine's a farm girl,raised by the river on the wide tract of land. forever gentle and patient with her animals, nurturing and kind. she greets people with a bright smile and a wave, her bracelets jingling with each movement, like her own personal melodic theme song.

sunshine falls in love with everything she sees. the small dying lamb — Jackie — she found abandoned on the side of road,that she vowed to take care off till her last breaths is her one true love she says..till she met Eddie that was, now Jackie's a close second

꧁ timeline ꧂

Eddie and Sunshine met at a wedding gig they were playing while they were still the 'dunne brothers' It was her third aunt, twice removed, fifth husband wedding. And sunshine ever the romantic was ecstatic. Despite her awful bridesmaid dress — aunt Linda would never have someone looking better than her if she could help it, especially not a women 32 years younger than her: though of anyone asked it was only 10 years — the trashy food and the fact her family was hosting for free and she's definitely be chasing the papers cups running in the wind from her the next morning. She was positively bursting with joy.

Eddie had seen her from afar and was starstruck,blinded. So enamoured, that he ran off the stage to ask her out right away. Running like he was being chased by a cheeta,but more accurately desperate to get to you before any of the other boys decided to try their luck first.

And that was the beginning of what sunshine deemed the greatest love story of the 20th century..until Eddie moved to LA and their yearning hearts were separated for 3 years until fate — as sunshine called it — brought them back together again

find out more under the 'sunshine 🌞🌞' tag

[kaldurahms-lover]

i need a long angsty daisy jones and the six fanfic where the reader is like billy’s tour girlfriend and she’s so hopelessly in love with him, looking at him through rose colored glasses and just seeing this perfect guy, having no idea about camila.

until she does.

and obviously she has to break it off immediately because she doesn’t want to be the other woman. she didn’t ever want to be in this position.

and so she goes to graham, and she gets camila’s address to write her letter, and it has to be a letter because she knows if she calls then camila will just hang up

because that what she would do.

and the letter is so heartfelt and warm and apologetic and very obviously tear stained when camila gets it that she just can't bring herself to be mad at this poor girl who got just as cheated as she did. at this poor girl who broke i up with billy when she found out bc she knew what he did was wrong

and so camila writes back, and a friendship forms. an unexpected friendship, but a friendship nonetheless

and soon enough, once the baby is born, the reader finds herself driving across states to come see camila and julia because dammit billy is in rehab and she wants more help than just her mom and she wants to meet her friend she’s been calling and writing and sending photos to and from this whole time

and you know, the reader stays longer than she means to

long enough that something more than friendship is buzzing between them

long enough that the reader has taken billy’s place in bed next to camila

long enough that when billy comes home from rehab, she’s holding julia while camila buzzes her lips against the baby’s stomach.

obviously he’s flabbergasted because what the FUCK is his affair partner doing in his house with his wife and baby and why does his mother in law look totally unphased….

reader simply kissing cami’s temple and handing her julia, saying she’ll give them some time alone because she understands that they need it

GOD having to have the talk about what that means for the relationship and everything i’d lose my mind

both of you eventually coming to the decision you’ll give billy one more chance

and once he gets over that fear he’s a good dad. a good husband, a good boyfriend.

and then daisy fucking jones shows up.

that’s all i’ve thought out so far

[allisluv]

lately i have been slacking on writing for a number of reasons but tonight i'm hoping to get back into the swing of things! my hyperfixations as of right now are still finnick (my man forever), djats and yellowjackets so requests for those will (likely) be replied to quicker. i'm also brimming with thoughts about dove x travis x lottie and finn x shy!wifey so feel free to help me flesh out their storylines or let me know what you'd like to be worked on from my wip list! <3

[cr3stawrites]

firm believer that if firecracker actually did die just as the interviews began or died during them that she is like the epitome of haunting the narrative.

like she was warren’s baby sister for god’s sake, even if she didn’t get with billy she was still apart of the band as moral supporter from warren. like warren wouldn’t be here without his baby sister being his biggest supporter.

oh and don’t get me started on billy. actually no, i will. if billy and firecracker got married down the line, had kids, the whole shebang and firecracker dies during the interviews?? or just as they start?? yeah, no, billy is HAUNTED. he’s haunted regardless by the memory of how he treated her — whether or not she dies.

billy dunne would always wonder if he got his act together before and actually got serious with firecracker earlier on that by now that he would actually be happy and maybe firecracker didn’t die and had she not died her dreams would’ve come true just like billy promised her all those years ago when they first hooked up — even if his younger self wouldn’t believe it because he was in love. he was in love with firecracker since he first met her even when she tagged along with warren when they were kids like he was in LOVE. firecracker was his beginning middle and end. and now?

he can’t even fathom living without her — and now he has to.

[auroralwriting]

𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘴

pairing: billy dunne x reader

summary: when billy can't seem to remember you, you decide to leave him in your memory for good

warnings: angst angst angst, no happy ending, billy sucks as per usual

: ̗̀➛ masterlist

gracie abrams songfic challenge

Billy Dunne stood on stage, his guitar slung low, his fingers strumming the chords of a song you knew by heart. You had always loved watching him perform—seeing him lose himself in the music, in the crowd. But tonight, as the spotlight hit him, it felt different. You felt different.

Maybe it was because you couldn’t remember the last time you truly saw him, or if he’d ever really seen you. The distance between you had grown so wide, it was hard to know how or when it started. But here you were, standing in the back of the room, trying not to let the ache in your chest show.

Billy’s eyes scanned the crowd, landing on you for a brief moment. You felt your heart skip, but you didn’t look away. You couldn’t. You had learned to stop pretending.

The song was familiar, the lyrics hitting too close to home. “I just can’t keep pretending. Like I’m okay.” You didn’t have to close your eyes to hear it. You had lived it for months. The pretending, the silence, the way it felt like he was standing in front of you but a million miles away.

As Billy sang, you thought back to the early days. Back when it was easy. When you’d sneak into the studio while the band practiced, when Billy would pull you close after every performance, pressing a kiss to your forehead as if the world would never change. Back when there was no space between you, no walls.

But that was before the tour, before the late-night conversations became fewer, before you stopped being his first thought when he woke up in the morning. Somewhere along the way, you had become a shadow in his life, and no matter how much you tried to love him, it felt like you were loving someone who wasn’t there anymore.

The song ended, and the crowd cheered, but you could barely hear it. The ringing in your ears was louder than the applause.

Billy stepped off the stage, his eyes immediately searching for you in the crowd. He knew you’d be here. But you had stopped being the person he looked for. You had stopped being the person he needed.

He made his way through the crowd, and when he reached you, he stopped, hesitating for the first time. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the way his lips parted, like he was about to speak but didn’t know how.

“Hi,” he said, his voice hoarse, and you hated how much it still affected you. How much you still wanted to run into his arms like you had when everything was easier. But you didn’t.

“Hi,” you replied, the word feeling empty between the two of you.

Billy looked at you, his eyes flicking down to your hands before meeting your gaze again. “I—I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.”

You swallowed, trying not to let the frustration build. “Yeah? That’s funny, because I’ve been thinking about you too. A lot. But it’s hard to think when all you do is disappear.”

His face tightened, like you had just struck a nerve. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, you didn’t,” you cut him off, trying to keep your voice steady. “But you did. Over and over. And I don’t know how much more I can take, Billy.”

Billy’s eyes softened, a flicker of guilt flashing through him. He reached out like he was about to touch your arm, but stopped himself. His hand hovered in the air, unsure. “I never meant for this to happen,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far. But it’s like… the more I pulled away, the more I kept hoping you’d come after me. I was scared of losing you, but now I’ve already lost you, haven’t I?”

You shook your head, your throat tightening. “It’s not about me coming after you. It’s about you showing up. It’s about being there. You stopped doing that, Billy. You started disappearing, and I… I couldn’t keep waiting for you to come back.”

His shoulders sagged, and he looked away, his gaze distant. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to… to lose you. But I was too afraid to try and fix it. And now, here we are.”

You both stood in the quiet between the noise of the bar, and for a moment, it felt like the world had paused. The ache in your chest was almost unbearable, the memories of the love you once had flooding back.

But then, as if the weight of everything became too much to carry, you finally spoke the words you’d been holding in for so long.

“I can’t love you like this anymore, Billy,” you whispered, the pain in your voice unmistakable. “I can’t keep waiting for you to show up when you’re already gone.”

Billy flinched, his eyes shutting for a brief second, like the truth had hit him harder than he expected. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, the words barely escaping his lips. “I’ve always been sorry.”

But it was too late. The apology didn’t mean anything anymore. You couldn’t fix something that had already broken. You couldn’t put the pieces back together when they didn’t fit the same way anymore.

You looked at him one last time—really looked at him. The boy you once knew, the boy you once loved. And then, you let him go.

“I need to go,” you said, your voice steady now, the finality in it clear.

Billy didn’t stop you this time. He didn’t reach for you or beg you to stay. He just watched as you walked away, and when you looked back one last time, you saw the same emptiness in his eyes that had been there for so long.

The door closed behind you with a soft click, and you knew that this time, there would be no turning back.

Billy’s face still lingered in your mind, the way he looked when he said he was sorry—like it was just another apology in a long string of them, none of which had ever been enough. None of which had ever brought you back. And maybe that was the point. Maybe it had all been too far gone the moment he stopped trying.

You didn’t hate him for it. You couldn’t. You still loved him. But that love had become a weight, a burden you couldn’t carry anymore. You had tried for so long to make it work, to ignore the little cracks that started to form, to pretend that everything was fine even when it was breaking you from the inside out.

But Billy? He had stopped trying. He had stopped showing up. And now, you were the one who had to let go.

The cold air bit at your skin, but it didn’t matter. You were numb. The city lights blurred as you walked aimlessly through the streets, your mind stuck on him—on what could have been, on the love you thought would last.

You reached a street corner and waited for the light to change. Your fingers fumbled in your coat pocket for a cigarette, and you lit it with a shaky hand. The smoke swirled around you, thickening the fog that had settled in your mind.

Love just wasn’t enough when it wasn’t reciprocated in the way it needed to be. And love wasn’t enough when the person you once knew seemed so distant, so different, that you couldn’t even recognize them anymore. You’d stopped being the person he reached for, and he’d stopped being the person who had once made you feel like you were the only one that mattered.

The sound of your footsteps seemed to follow you as you walked down the empty street. The glow from the streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement, but you didn’t pay attention to them. All you could think about was that phone call.

You had received it an hour ago, and you still hadn’t made up your mind. You hadn’t called him back. You knew he wouldn’t call again unless you called back. That’s just how he was. You didn’t know if you should. The last time you had talked, the words felt like they were suffocating you. The apologies, the promises that everything would be better next time—every single one of them had felt like a lie.

You reached the park and sat down on one of the benches, staring out into the quiet. The rustling leaves seemed to be whispering to you, as if the world itself was trying to calm you, trying to tell you everything would be okay.

But you knew better.

You pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders and closed your eyes for a moment, the quiet of the night filling your mind. You knew Billy had meant everything he said. You knew he didn’t want you to leave, but he had let you go just the same.

A distant part of you hoped he would try harder. That he would come running to you, apologize for everything, and beg you to come back. But you knew that wasn’t who he was anymore.

You knew what love looked like, what it felt like. And this? This wasn’t it.

The air was getting colder, and you could hear the distant hum of a car engine. It was strange, how everything seemed to move around you so fast when you felt like you were standing still.

You pulled out a piece of paper and started to scribble on it, your words messy and uneven as the moonlight danced across the page. You didn’t know why you were doing it, but you felt compelled to. You had always been a writer. It was the only way you knew how to make sense of things. Like Billy and his music, you had your words, your poetry.

And so, you wrote.

Billy, I know you’re sorry. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen. But I can’t keep waiting. I can’t keep holding onto something that’s already slipping through my fingers. You say you love me, but love isn’t enough when you don’t try to hold on.

You paused, your fingers hovering over the paper. The weight of your own words hit you like a wave, and you wiped away the tears that had started to slip down your cheeks.

If you loved me, you wouldn’t have let me go. You wouldn’t have left me alone on late nights. You wouldn’t have made me feel forgotten and displaced. You wouldn’t have let me walk out of that venue that night if you really still cared for me.

The world seemed so much quieter now, the noise of your heart pounding louder than anything else. The idea of walking away from him felt like the hardest thing you would ever do, but you knew you had to.

You folded the paper carefully and slid it into your pocket. Your cigarette was burning low, the ashes falling to the ground, but you didn’t care.

Your mind was set, but your heart—your heart was still in pieces. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. You didn’t know if you would ever see Billy again. But you knew one thing for sure: you couldn’t keep doing this.

With a final, long breath, you stood up, brushing the leaves off your coat. The park was empty, the air colder than before. But you didn’t look back.

You kept walking, the echoes of your footsteps following you into the unknown. 

It had been a year. A whole year since you had walked away, since you had left behind the life you thought you were going to have with Billy.

A year filled with attempts at moving on, finding new places to call home, new people to meet. You had thrown yourself into work, into friendships, into things that would distract you from the ache that never quite faded.

But nothing felt as real as the time you had spent with him.

And nothing—nothing—felt as impossible as the thought of seeing him again.

But here you were, standing in the crowd at the concert hall, the lights above you dimming as the noise in the venue shifted from a dull hum to an electric buzz. The anticipation in the air was thick, the energy of the crowd palpable. It had taken every ounce of courage to buy the ticket, but here you were, standing in the back, watching as the stage lights flickered to life.

You didn’t even know what you expected. Did you think you’d go through the motions and just enjoy the music? That you could hear his voice again and pretend like you hadn’t spent so much time missing him, trying to forget him?

But as the first chord rang through the speakers, you felt it—felt the familiar tug of something inside you that you couldn’t ignore. His voice, raw and powerful, filled the room, and for a moment, you let yourself breathe it in.

You hadn’t seen Billy in over a year. You’d watched from afar as his band grew, as their fame exploded, as the world embraced their sound. But seeing him here, in person, standing on that stage, it was like no time had passed at all. He looked different—more polished, more confident—but when he sang, you could still see the boy you had once known. The boy who had made you believe in love, in a life you thought you would share.

Your heart clenched in your chest, and you forced yourself to take a step back. You told yourself you were fine. You weren’t going to make a scene. You weren’t going to get caught up in the past, in the feelings that still hadn’t completely faded.

But it was too late. He’d seen you.

The moment his eyes caught yours from across the stage, everything seemed to still. The world faded away until it was just the two of you, and for the briefest second, it was like nothing had changed. Like you were still that girl in the front row at the small bar, holding his gaze as he played his guitar and whispered lyrics meant only for you.

And then, just as quickly as it had come, the moment was gone.

Billy’s fingers trembled against his guitar strings, but his voice didn’t falter. He sang the next note with all the passion you remembered, but you could see it in the way he looked at you again, that subtle recognition—the shock, the wonder, the hope. But you couldn’t stay.

You turned, your heart pounding in your chest. You had always known that seeing him again would do something to you, but you hadn’t realized just how deeply it would hurt. You hadn’t realized how much you would want to run to him, to be with him again, to say all the things you hadn’t been able to say.

But you couldn’t.

Not like this. Not after everything that had happened.

You pushed through the crowd, your breath quickening as you navigated your way to the back exit, trying to keep your composure. You told yourself you couldn’t go back to that place. That place where everything was uncertain and nothing was ever guaranteed.

When you reached the door, you stopped for just a moment, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on you. You could hear the crowd cheering, could hear the music from inside, and you wondered, for just a second, if he was still looking for you. If he was wondering why you’d left.

But then you stepped out into the cool night air, and the door shut behind you with a finality that echoed in your chest. You hadn’t gone back for him. You hadn’t gone back for any kind of closure. You hadn’t gone back to start things over.

You had gone back because you missed him. And that was the most painful thing of all.

[venusbyline]

Hey guys, I'm Vênus (she/her). This is my new ff blog and requests are already open!

I really like writing dark, smut and/or angst contents for s/o x female readers.

Almost all the characters and artists I'll write for are tagged. Feel free to send me your writing requests on my ask. (ps¹: practically i'll write for all Jacob Elordi and Ryan Gosling's characters, there just wasn't enough space in the tags).

So don't be shy... I'm a member of the "toxic characters stan" too <3

ps²: some characters besides the other characters of Ryan Gosling and Jacob Elordi that I didn't put in the tags but that I can also write for:

Scream: Ethan Landry, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher.

Euphoria: Rue Bennet, Jules Vaughn, Ethan Lewis, Lexi Howard, Chris McKay, Fezco.

Hunger Games: Lucy Gray Baird, Katniss Everdeen, Sejanus Plinth, Johanna Mason, Treech, Clemensia Dovecote, Tigris Snow, Haymitch Abernathy.

MCU: Tom Holland!Peter Parker & Andrew Garfield!Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff.

Daisy Jones & The Six: Eddie Roundtree, Daisy Jones, Camila Dunne.

The Vampire Diaries: Stefan Salvatore, Damon Salvatore, Silas, Rebekah Mikaelson, Katherine Pierce.

Margot Robbie: Barbie, Harley Quinn.

Gossip Girl: Chuck Bass, Nate Archibald, Carter Baizen, Blair Waldorf.

YOU: Love Quinn, Joe Goldberg.

Harry Potter: Cedric Diggory, Hermione Granger, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Sirius Black.

Grey's Anatomy: Jackson Avery, Derek Shepherd, Mark Sloan, Alex Karev.

Outer Banks: Rafe Cameron, JJ Maybank.

Anyway, more characters can be added here over time!

[nomorespahgetti]

I will never get over the novel version of Daisy Jones & The Six. I think it’s honestly worse how Billy and Daisy don’t even TOUCH in the book. Not even one small kiss. But they want to. They don’t, and they do come close, but it never happens.

The emotional affair is worse. It’s worse because they want each other and Camilla just has to watch. But no, she can’t be mad: they haven’t done anything. They haven’t done anything. They’re addicted to each other, and they represent the struggle of it for the other.

[camilaswife]

here's what's coming soon for fics:

-a fic based off of the brighter days short film by Ariana grande (I'll have it out by Monday) finnick x sunshine!reader

-a analysis based off of exile by taylor swift feat bon iver (working progress) billy x dreamgirl!reader

-a analysis based off of lie to girls by sabrina carpenter (working progress) billy x diva!reader

-Billy x diva ♡ fic on how they were having an on and off relationship (?) (Working progress)

[ssweeterthanfiction]

Wait for your love.

content warnings (for the whole series): mentions of drugs and alcohol, age gap, gaslighting, billy being TOXICCCCC, mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts, mental health issues

↳ currently playing ;

No. 1 Party Anthem - 1978

1:56 ——————•———— 3:24

↺       <<         ll          >>    ⋮≡

In September of ‘78, both Daisy Jones & The Six and Y/N announced their tours. And while the ticket sales for Daisy Jones & The Six were high, Y/N’s were much higher.

Y/N: “I didn’t think that my ticket sales were gonna be so well if I’m going to be honest.”

“I fell off the face of the earth for a year. It was shocking enough to see that my album take off the way it did. So the fact that my team had to scramble to make my tour go from an all arena tour to a full stadium tour to keep up with the demand of tickets…that was just…wow.”

“The band was also getting a lot of attention after Aurora released. I didn’t want to show it then but…I was proud. I was proud of them. I was proud that they had the world in their hands…that they had everything they wanted.”

Billy: “I should’ve been happy for her. I should’ve been proud. But all I could feel was this fucking pit in my stomach. This jealousy, this resentment… and it was eating me up from the inside.”

“The thing is, I wasn’t just angry at her. I was angry at myself. Angry at how I couldn’t keep it together. How I couldn’t be the man she needed me to be. I couldn’t even be the man I needed to be for me, you know?”

“So I did what I always did when I felt lost. I turned to the only thing that would drown out the noise in my head…drugs, alcohol, you name it. And the worst part? The band getting caught up in the mess of it all and I didn’t even care. I was spiraling, falling deeper and deeper, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. It felt like the only way to cope, to deal with everything crashing around me.”

“And she- she was out there. Selling out stadiums. Living her life, her dreams. She didn’t need me anymore. She was bigger than everything. Bigger than us. And I couldn’t figure out how to hold on to anything. Not even her.”

“I let her go, and she let me go, too. That was the hardest part to swallow.

Y/N: “I didn’t want to let him go.”

"I only let him go because I had to let him go."

“But everyone thought I did."

"They thought I wanted to let him go. They thought that I was this strong, untouchable thing who moved on like it was nothing."

"At first it was true, but that was only because I was angry....but then that anger turned into sadness."

"So, it ended up even being true.”

"I had to pretend I was okay. I had to make myself believe that I was okay. And sure, did I feel better now that I didn't have Billy constantly on me? Yes."

"But I never stopped loving him."

"Not even when I was selling out stadiums. Not even when I was standing in front of thousands of people every night, pretending I was whole without him."

“The truth is…I kept looking for him. Every city, every crowd, I searched for his face. I’d finish a show, and the first thing I’d do when I got back to my hotel room was check the phone.”

“Hoping there’d be a call, a message… something. But it was always nothing.”

“I don’t know what I was expecting. I mean- I just disappeared for a whole year.”

“I guess, I just…wanted to hear his voice.”

She inhales sharply.

"I was standing in front of thousands of people, every night, singing songs about him, and I thought I’d moved on. But how the fuck do you move on from something like that?”

“So I stopped. Not because I wanted to. But because I had to.”

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

The crowd was deafening, their cheers shaking the foundation of the stadium as you stood at the edge of the stage. Thousands of voices screamed your name.

The stage lights burned bright, hot against your skin. You could feel it. This moment, this success, this dream you'd built from the ground up.

You should’ve felt alive.

Instead, you felt empty.

You stepped back, pushing damp strands of hair from your face as your heart pounded.

You looked out to the crowd, searching for something—someone.

But he wasn't there.

You knew he wasn't going to be there.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

It's okay.

It's better this way.

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Billy: “I got lost, you know? I really fucking got lost after she left. Everything just started spinning out of control, like I was in this dark pit I couldn’t get out of. I thought I could handle it...hell, I thought I had control over everything back then. But once she was gone, that pit just... it swallowed me whole."

"And the worst part? I didn’t even care. At first, anyway. Because, well, I didn’t have to care, right? I was Billy Dunne. I had everything. I had the band, I had the fame, I had people who would have killed to be in my shoes. I could have anyone."

"But it was always her. It was always her that I wanted."

"I remember the shit I used to say to her, though. About how she was replaceable. About how she should be lucky to be with me. I made her feel small, like she should be grateful I even chose her."

"Like she was just something I could throw away if I wasn’t feeling it anymore."

"I used to tell her I could have anyone. That she didn’t mean anything special. That I was the one who was doing her a favor. But it was bullshit. I know that now. It was all to cover up how fucking scared I was that I wasn’t good enough for her. That I wasn’t enough, and if I told her that, if I let her know that she was the best thing that ever happened to me, maybe, just maybe, she’d see it too and leave me anyway."

"I wish I could take it all back. All the things I said. All the ways I treated her. I wish I could go back to when she was still mine, when she was still looking at me with that goddamn hope in her eyes. I wish I could’ve been the person she needed, the person she deserved. But I wasn’t. I was too busy being a fucking mess to see that."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Billy was drunk.

Not the good kind of drunk where everything felt light and floaty.

No, never that kind of drunk.

This was the kind of drunk where nothing made sense anymore.

He sat slumped on the couch, bottle in hand, the laughter of the band echoing around him. They were celebrating another sold-out show, but he wasn’t there. Not really.

He should’ve been proud. Should’ve been reveling in the success of Aurora, in the fact that they were finally on top. But instead, all he could hear was the distant hum of your name. Every magazine cover, every radio interview—your name.

You were everywhere.

But not with him.

He took another chug, the alcohol burning down his throat, numbing the ache that never seemed to go away. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the newspaper on the table, the bold headline staring back at him.

MIDNIGHT'S REGRETS—SELLS OUT ANOTHER STADIUM. THE BIGGEST TOUR OF THE YEAR?

Billy’s grip tightens around the bottle as he stares at the picture beneath the headline. It’s you. Standing on stage, arms outstretched, the entire world screaming for you. You’re smiling. You look radiant. Untouchable.

You were on top of the world.

Without him.

Billy stares at the ceiling, the room spinning slightly.

He wonders if you ever think about him.

If you ever stare at the ceiling the way he does.

If you ever miss him the way he misses you.

But then he remembers the stadiums. The flashing lights. The roaring crowds chanting your name.

And he convinces himself that you don’t.

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Y/N: "Other than missing Billy, tour was pretty good for me."

"Sure I was sad, but being up on stage helped. Every night, when I stepped out there, I was surrounded by the kind of love I couldn’t get from anywhere else. The crowd, the music, it was all so loud, so overwhelming. And it made me feel.. seen. It made me feel like I mattered, like I was something more than just a broken heart."

"It’s funny, though. The more I saw myself getting bigger, the more I realized I was just pretending. I was pretending like I didn’t care, like it didn’t hurt."

"But no matter how many stadiums I played, how many people screamed my name…nothing felt right. Nothing felt like it used to. Because there was always this gaping hole where he used to be."

"But honestly....I as much as I wanted to see him...I was afraid to see him just as much..."

"And...I know a lot of people think that I didn't see Billy and the others til the 1979 Grammys...."

"But I actually saw them after my L.A show."

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Billy hadn’t planned on going. He didn’t even know if he could handle seeing you live, seeing how far you’d come without him. But as the hours ticked by, he felt this strange pull. It felt like fate, or maybe it was just curiosity, but either way, he couldn’t shake the idea.

He wasn’t the only one who felt it.

"Are we really doing this?" Warren asks as they walk toward the venue, his voice laced with uncertainty. "I mean, after everything? Are we ready for that?"

Billy shrugs, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. "We have the day off. Might as well."

Graham’s gaze is fixed on Billy, his expression unreadable. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Billy hesitates, but then nods. He doesn’t know if he’s ready. But he knows he has to see you. He has to see how you’ve changed, what you’ve become. If only to prove to himself that you were better off without him.

They all settle in their seats and ehe sound of cheering grows louder as the lights begin to dim.

"Here we go" Eddie says quietly.

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Y/N: "No one knew I was hurting. Sometimes even i think I didn't know I was hurting."

Karen: "When she came out on stage, she looked so...happy. So free."

“You could tell she was in her element. The way she moved, the way she smiled, it was like she wasn’t the same person anymore. Like she had shed everything, all the pain, all the hurt, and just…blossomed.”

Eddie: "You know what stood out to me? The way she looked at the crowd. The way she was in complete control. She was exactly where she needed to be."

Graham: "Her performance was just- wow. That's the best way to describe it."

"Because only she could go from twirling around stage in a long flowing dress to it being ripped off and revealing a sparkly top and skirt- at least at the time."

Warren: "She was killing it." "Her fans were going crazy, and honest I was too, especially during the 'love is embarrassing' dance break."

"And then when her show was interrupted because her team told her she was nominated for three Grammys? I don't think i've ever heard a crowd get that loud."

Daisy: "She looked so happy when she found out. And honestly it was deserved. She deserved to be happy. Not some pretend happiness shit, she deserved true happiness."

"But then something...shifted on stage."

Y/N: "It happened when I was singing Clean."

"I was as okay as I could be, but for some reason I just- I started to feel. Like really feel."

"I felt like everything from the past year was just crashing down on me."

"I don't know why I did what I did, but I changed a lyric while I was on stage."

"The original lyric was '10 months sober I must admit, just because your clean don't mean you don't miss it'."

"I changed it to '10 months sober I must admit, just because your clean don't mean you don't miss him'."

Warren: "I think we all collectively had a 'did she really say that' moment."

"Billy especially."

Daisy: "I was standing next to Billy, and I could see him visibly tense up."

"And that's not even the worst part of it."

"A little bit after the song ended, we got moved to a VIP tent."

"Guess her team found out we were there."

Y/N: "I didn't think much of it at first."

"It was a small change. A mistake."

"But deep down, I knew it was how I felt."

"And then...."

"I started 'Bejeweled'."

"And the choreography for that had me walking all over the stage."

"That's when I saw them."

"That's when I saw him."

Billy: "I don't even know how to describe that moment. One second, she was just…her. Larger than life, untouchable. And then she looked right at us."

Karen: "Her eyes widened. Just for a second. She didn’t miss a beat. She kept performing, kept singing, but I could tell. That second changed everything."

Eddie: "It was like the world stopped. I swear, she stumbled for half a second. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but we did."

Daisy: "The way she looked at Billy…that wasn’t just shock. That was years of love, heartbreak, regret, and whatever the hell else they never said to each other."

Warren: "I honestly felt like I shouldn’t be watching. Like it was too personal."

Graham: "And Billy? Jesus. He just stood there, completely frozen. I don't think he even breathed."

Billy: "I...I wasn’t ready for that. I thought I was. I thought, you know, we’d see her, we’d hear her sing, and that would be it. But the second her eyes met mine, I knew it wasn’t over. Not really."

Y/N: "The second I saw him, I forgot the lyrics. My own damn lyrics."

"I covered it up, kept singing, let the crowd fill in, but my hands were shaking. My heart was pounding. Because there he was, standing in the middle of my world, looking at me like I was still his."

"And that? That made the anger come back."

Karen: "She kept going, but there was something different now. She wasn’t just performing anymore. She was feeling it."

Daisy: "I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like she was singing at Billy. Every word, every move, it was all for him, but not in a good way."

Y/N: "I made it through the song. Barely. But my head was spinning. My heart was pounding."

"I thought I was going to run off stage again."

"But I thought, "No. Not again.""

"So I kept going."

She laughs. "Thankfully the next two songs were 'Better Than Revenge' and 'Out Of The Woods', so I was able to take all my anger out."

Warren: "Oh, she went for it. Like, full-throttle, no-holding-back, fuck-you kind of energy."

Eddie: "By the time she hit 'Better Than Revenge,' the whole crowd could feel it. She wasn’t just performing anymore, she was calling him out."

Karen: "The way she stomped across that stage, the way she sneered certain lyrics…Yeah, we all knew exactly who she was thinking about."

Daisy: "He knew too."

Graham: "Billy didn’t say a word. Just stood there, jaw clenched, staring at the stage like he was waiting for her to break. But she didn’t."

Billy: "You want the truth? I wanted to leave. I should have left. But I couldn't. I had to see it, see her. Even if it killed me."

Y/N: "I sang my heart out. I screamed my heart out. Every word, every lyric, I meant them all."

"I twirled, I kicked, I let my hair whip around me. The lights were blinding, the crowd was deafening, but all I could focus on was that one damn spot in the VIP tent."

"He was still watching. Still there."

"So I gave him a show."

Daisy: "She didn’t just perform. She owned that stage. Like she was proving something. Maybe to him, maybe to herself. Maybe both."

Warren: "And then she hit 'Out of the Woods,' and I swear to God, I thought the roof was gonna blow off the place."

Karen: "That song has always been intense, but this? This was something else."

Y/N: "I should’ve been exhausted by the time the song ended. I should’ve felt drained, empty. But I didn’t."

"I felt alive."

"Even when final note of the encore rang out. "

"The crowd was screaming, and I just stood there, panting, my heart hammering in my chest."

"I looked back at the VIP tent."

"I saw Billy."

"And when I looked into his eyes..."

"I knew he was back in my life again."

"Whether I liked it or not."

A/N: HOLYYYYY SHIT ITS FINALLY OUT!!!!

hope u guys enjoyed!!! i promise that GOU is next!

tysm for reading and as always my requests/asks are open (if u guys wanna chat abt this chapter <33)

[slfglow]

"I love you," Billy slurred, nearly falling off the barstool. It's cracked wood and one shorter leg, made it look like it belonged in a museum. Practically ancient, it was there when you first got to ' Whiskey a Go-Go', the only one of it's kind. The rest of the bar was full of clean leather seats, sparkling metal and cushiony bottoms. This one was different.

All the greats had sat there: The Beatles, Elvis Presley, the Beach Boys, and the Rolling Stones, Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole. Any name you could hear and think 'they made it.' had sat right there. Hearing that, Billy chose to sit there every time. And he sat there a lot.

His words hung in the smoky air of the dimly lit bar, thick with the scent of stale beer and desperation. The bar was empty, had it been formally closed hours ago yet billy was still here. Billy always stayed late.

Now, you figured it was the right time to take him home "Okay, I think it's time to cut you off, buddy." You reached for the bottle of whiskey he'd been nursing for the past few hours. "Mmmh no,no please." his slurred words barely audible over the thumping bass of the music. A busted radio lay on the counter top for when there wasn't live shows — so it was rarely used.

He was a mess, even through the dark lights you could see that. One of those rockstar types, all leather and long hair, but tonight, the glitter had faded, revealing the weariness beneath.

"I love you," he mumbled again. Sprawled on the bar, his usually sharp eyes glazed over with too much whiskey and something else she couldn't quite place.

Maybe it was the way his voice cracked when he said those three words, or the vulnerability that flickered in his eyes before he blinked it away. But for a split second you actually believed him.

You had seen plenty of guys like him come and go through the place. Rockstars, dreamers, and drifters, all looking for something they couldn't find at the bottom of a glass — didn't stop them from ordering more though.

All coming in for a chance to let loose. A glass, then another, then however many more before they're spilling their secrets and their drinks. Dirty secrets, confessions, lies. Untold stories, and for good reason

You didn't know which of the few Billy was telling you. "Go home billy."

p.s not the blurb/one shot I promised from the vote. just a random blurb I threw together

[kaldurahms-lover]

“isn’t already having two enough for you, billy?”

i need a long angsty daisy jones and the six fanfic where the reader is like billy’s tour girlfriend and she’s so hopelessly in love with him, looking at him through rose colored glasses and just seeing this perfect guy, having no idea about camila.

until she does.

and obviously she has to break it off immediately because she doesn’t want to be the other woman. she didn’t ever want to be in this position.

and so she goes to graham, and she gets camila’s address to write her letter, and it has to be a letter because she knows if she calls then camila will just hang up

because that what she would do.

and the letter is so heartfelt and warm and apologetic and very obviously tear stained when camila gets it that she just can't bring herself to be mad at this poor girl who got just as cheated as she did. at this poor girl who broke i up with billy when she found out bc she knew what he did was wrong

and so camila writes back, and a friendship forms. an unexpected friendship, but a friendship nonetheless

and soon enough, once the baby is born, the reader finds herself driving across states to come see camila and julia because dammit billy is in rehab and she wants more help than just her mom and she wants to meet her friend she’s been calling and writing and sending photos to and from this whole time

and you know, the reader stays longer than she means to

long enough that something more than friendship is buzzing between them

long enough that the reader has taken billy’s place in bed next to camila

long enough that when billy comes home from rehab, she’s holding julia while camila buzzes her lips against the baby’s stomach.

obviously he’s flabbergasted because what the FUCK is his affair partner doing in his house with his wife and baby and why does his mother in law look totally unphased….

reader simply kissing cami’s temple and handing her julia, saying she’ll give them some time alone because she understands that they need it

GOD having to have the talk about what that means for the relationship and everything i’d lose my mind

both of you eventually coming to the decision you’ll give billy one more chance

and once he gets over that fear he’s a good dad. a good husband, a good boyfriend.

and then daisy fucking jones shows up.

that’s all i’ve thought out so far

[allisluv]

daisy jones being enamoured with you while she is drunk or high

pairing: daisy jones x ex!fem!reader

content warnings: angsty fluff, daisy being stoned out of her god-damn mind. mentions of past established relationship but both daisy and reader still have feelings for each other. loosely based off the song "why'd you only call me when you're high" by arctic monkeys

word count: 240

it's early in the morning when the landline to your hotel room starts ringing. you roll over onto your side, the numbers 03:56 flashing in red letters on the digital clock. you rub your knuckles into your eyes to rid them of sleep and blindly fumble for the black phone, holding the receiver up against your ear. "hello?"

"hi, baby!"

you blink once, then twice, then three times for good measure. "daisy?"

"yeah, it's me, baby."

"why are you calling me? it's nearly four in the damn morning!" you snap as tiredness gets the better of you.

you hear daisy sigh on the other end of the phone. "jus' wanted to hear your voice, 's all. i missed you and your pretty face. like, you know i'm in love with you, right? like so in love."

you exhale a breath and run a trembling hand through your hair. "why are you still up, daisy? we have a show in eight hours."

"can't sleep without you here," daisy admits shakily. "like i said, i miss you."

now it's your turn to sigh. after a beat of silence, you finally break and say, "well, are you gonna keep me on the phone all night or come over?"

"really?" daisy yawns through the line.

"yeah, well, i don't want you falling asleep on stage. just don't make a habit out of this, alright? we're still over."

daisy chuckles. "whatever you say, sweetheart."