#William h bonney smut

[spideyhexx]

in the jailhouse now - billy bonney

Saccharine!Billy Bonney x Female!Reader

mdni!!! wc; 3k cw; guns, blood, grinding, exhibitionism-ish

saccharine masterlist (this can be read standalone!)

a/n; this was long overdo from kinktober!!! Very happy you guys can have this now :)))))))) um. enjoy >:)

If you could punch Billy in the face right now you would. But you can’t. Why? Cause he’s in fucking jail. Again. Granted, it was not his fault but also maybe it was his fault for sneaking into Lincoln and trusting a new player in the game.

Maybe if he told you, but he didn’t. 

He never mentioned he was leaving to meet with him and Governor Wallace. He’s been telling you most things lately so why the fuck didn’t he tell you this?

Your emotions are all over. Fuck him. But also fuck, he’s in jail and they’re saying he’ll have a trial, but by god, everyone saw him shoot Sheriff Brady among all the other crimes he's committed since. He’ll hang in no time and you cannot bear that thought. 

Charlie tried to calm you down. Everyone did, but you were close to pulling out your own goddamn hair. This might’ve been the stupidest thing Billy has ever done and he was going to meet your wrath before they could wrap that noose around his neck.

You’ll be his demise, not a rope. 

When those thoughts settle, tears prick your eyes and you’re barking orders to the rest of the regulators about a jail escape. None of the men showed an ounce of hesitation. Billy’s laid his life on the line for everyone here, so they’d do the same for him. Even when he made an idiotic choice. You make sure to throw that in there when you speak. Multiple times. 

Billy’s lucky because he has to sit in jail only one night before the plan is enacted. There was a benefit to the way you dressed and how you kept your hair tucked beneath your hat. When you wore a dress and wore your hair like a proper lady, you became almost unrecognizable. 

And thanks to Billy’s smothering over you, not letting you be directly involved with his little missions (p.s. fuck you for that Billy) and Pat’s disinterest in you since like, forever, it was easy to play the role of Billy’s lover. A sweet woman who just wants to see her love before he’s sent to death. 

When you are dolled up, Manuela smoothing down the skirt of the dress and then fixing the hat atop your head, your body is stiff and awkward, she pokes your side, “you need to act like you wear this everyday.”

You resist an eyeroll. You’re sure this will work. Almost positive, but there’s always the slight chance Pat looks too long. Recognizes you. The fact you cannot remember the last time you’ve been that close to Pat gives you some semblance of optimism. Manuela even adds the smallest bit of rouge to your cheeks, indicating it does wonders. 

You ignore the teasing glances from the regulators when you all congregate to go over the plan. It doesn’t matter what they say. What they think. What you feel in this getup because the only thing that matters is getting Billy, and everyone else, out alive. And it all hinders on you. For the most part. It was your plan. If it fails, there’s nobody to blame but yourself and you’ll hope to God that you don’t survive to hear Billy chastise you for it. Or maybe you’d like to hear the timbre of his voice slightly angry, slightly amused. And his intense eyes glimmering, staring right into your soul in-

Deep breaths. 

You separate from the rest. Time is of the essence. The sun has fallen out of the sky and the dark of the night wisps at your cheeks as you make the walk to the sheriff’s office. You go over in your head what you’ve prepared to say, your heart beating incessantly. Soon enough you’ll (hopefully) be able to see your Billy and smack him.

A man, one of Garret’s deputies, stands up from his chair on the porch as you approach. He holds his hand out as if to ask you to stop. Lets you state your business. 

The man studies you for a quick few seconds, then opens the door, peeking his head inside, “Sheriff, a lady is here to talk to you,” he says and you can vaguely hear Pat mumble something. 

You steel yourself, thinking about Billy’s typical words of encouragement to the gang. To you. 

Steady on. You’re better than you think. Now get the fuck outta my face. That last part being just for you and no one else.

The smile that spreads on your face at the sight of Garret is tight and polite. The kind you would see women give men in passing. An ounce of kindness. A way to say, I am not an outlaw but a humble woman. It feels ridiculous. 

“Ma’am. To what do I owe this visit?” He asks and your chest soars. A win. He doesn’t recognize you. 

“Well, first I oughta say, I think…I think the way you’ve been handlin’ the…war in this town is quite…well. Bad,” you say, easing your voice into a soft one that’s reserved only for times like these. 

It strikes a nerve with Pat, but the man is good at keeping himself in check. He gives a nod and sighs, “We’re all doing are best, ma’am.”

“Mm,” you wring your gloved hands together then say, “Supposedly, I need your permission to enter the jail and visit a prisoner here.” 

His brow raises, then he glances to his deputy. Pat tilts his head at you, “Are you talking ‘bout Billy the Kid?”

You nod, “I am, sir.”

“Knew he’d have a sweetheart,” Pat chuckles, shaking his head and rubbing a hand pensively over his face, “I see no harm. Unfortunately, I will need to check if you’re not taking anything to him that…might be useful.”

Charlie mentioned Pat might want to check you so this doesn’t come as a surprise. Nonetheless, it still makes your blood boil and your nerves tick. 

Pat stands up, rounding off to the front of his desk, “Do I have your permission?” His eyes are light. Amused, almost. Like he expects you to fold. Or to definitely have something on you. He would not be wrong about the second thing, but you’re too good to let his have the satisfaction. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. Steady on.

Once you nod, Pat gestures for you to hold your arms out. He pats them down first, a thorough check that you block out. When he gets to your middle, you even out your breaths to keep them as calm as possible. Pat leans down to pat down your legs over the thick dress, and you take the moment of not having his gaze on you to roll your eyes. However as his hands raise higher, he hesitates. 

He clears his throat, then stands up, “Okay. You can go.”

Thank fuck! You give that sweet-fake smile to him and follow after the deputy. The pounding in your chest tightens and you squeeze your hands together to ease the shakiness which is a mixture of the cold and excitement to see Billy. Would he look bad? Probably not. You’ve seen him downright filthy and still look good. A treachery upon life, he is. 

Would he be mad? Surely. That’s the good part. 

The door opens to the jailhouse and you step inside, first making eye contact with the jailer, then to your Billy, sitting on the bench in the cell. 

He stands immediately, his mouth parting and uttering your name. Not cowgirl. Not some other miscellaneous nickname him or one of the regulators has given you over the months, years you’ve been around them. He says your fucking name. 

“Hello, Billy,” you respond, as calm as you can, though every inch of your body is on fire. The prickling starts in your fingertips and your toes and at the bottom of your spine, circulating to every other nook and cranny within you. 

“You got two minutes,” the jailer says as he pushes the key into the lock and turns it, opening the cell door for you. 

Billy’s furrowed brow and parted mouth are almost frozen in time, but your feet are moving. 

“What are you-”

Your lips lock onto his, your hands finding his face, pushing yourself up to meet him with more force. He moves his face to the side for only a second before you’re on his mouth again. With how he doesn’t kiss back, it makes you want to scream. It takes one nip at his bottom lip for something to snap into him and Billy’s holding to your waist, kissing you with so much need that it breaks your heart. 

You’re not sure if you’re leaning into him too much or if he’s walking backwards on his own accord, but your heart leaps when he sits back on the bench, your mouth never leaving his as you straddle his lap. 

You break the kiss to study his face. No cuts. No bruises. Your thumb swipes at his cheekbone in a soothing gesture, a silent, I’m rescuing you now.

His eyes, full of unadulterated feeling, break from you to look towards the jailer. You turn too, and the jailer shakes his head in an amused chuckle, “oh,” he says, setting the keys down on his desk and turning away so as to not watch the two of you. 

When you find his eyes once more, Billy’s mouth breaks into an easy smile. The easiest smile you think you’ve ever seen from him and in immediate response, you rock your hips down on him. 

Billy captures your mouth with his to hide his moan, his hand snaking to your lower back. It’s big, pressing you forward, chest to chest with him. His kiss is all desperation. Lips catching yours whenever you almost miss his. Tongue licking out to caress your lips or feel your tongue for himself. Teeth making a home in the skin of your lip before departing. Quick. Incessant. Fucking needy, is your Billy. 

He’s hard under you, pushing you down against him enough that you feel right where you need it. It almost makes you forget your mission. Almost. Hell, what if you abandon the plan right now and ride his dick for one last hoorah before you’re both whisked away from one another? Or you refuse to leave and become tragic lovers in a cell, set to hang together while holding hands?

Billy must sense your pondering because he’s whispering ever so softly, “you’re crazy.”

“You, my dear cowboy, are an idiot,” you mumble, before kissing him with so much force his head knocks against the wooded wall and he pushes his hips up like it’s pure instinct. What you would give to feel the full effect of it. The jailer being in the room does nothing to stop the heat in your belly. If anything, you feel a sense to prove your devotion. You feel the result of that devotion poking up at you.

Deep breaths.

You take his wrist, moving his hand to your knee and Billy smiles into the kiss. You’re going to make fun of him for this later. For how quick he got hard. For how happy he seems to take you right here in this cell with the jailer no doubt sneaking glances. 

You slide his hand up your thigh until it reaches its destination. The kiss breaks, but your noses stay together. It's impossible to be further from one another. 

His brow knits and slowly, he pulls out the gun from under your dress, holding it between the two of you. 

The look he gives, you can’t decipher at first. His jaw tightens and his eyes are boring into your soul in that excruciating way he does, when you know he’s thinking. Billy’s mind is working over every little thing he ever knows about you. All you get is the faintest shake of his head and he’s surging forward to kiss you again.

This one feels different. The need is still there. Palpable. Hard and pulsing under you. But this kiss overwhelms you. It gives you relief. Whispers it into your mouth so your ears can know it. The warmth you feel is not something solely for you, but for him too. 

“Be ready,” you tell him, taking every inch of energy left in your body to pull yourself away from him. “Jailer, I’m ready to leave.”

Billy stays seated, leaning his forearms on his legs, either to get ready or to hide his erection. You bite your cheek to not snort out a laugh. 

“True love, huh?” The jailer smirks at you and you step out of the cell, watching him lock Billy right up just as the guards outside can be heard speaking in distress. 

The jailer looks towards the door, pulling the key out of the lock and the moment the noise outside ramps up, you’re pulling the gun, shooting at the man. It’s a rush of adrenaline so quick, you’re not sure where you shot, but your fingers are finding the keys and unlocking Billy. 

He smothers you in a hug, his hand holding your head to his shoulder and he gives the top of your head a kiss, “‘M so happy to see you, cowgirl,” he mutters into your hair, his breath invigorating as much life into you as he can give. 

Billy leans down and grabs the jailer’s gun, his body never straying far from you, like he’s refusing to not be touching you. It sends you ablaze, explosions ricocheting outside. That’s the cue but you find yourself frozen, watching him cock the gun. 

“You in there?” 

His voice. That low timbre is not full of any anger like you may have expected. Selfishly wanted. He knocks his knuckles to your head and gives your collar a tug, “I ain’t never seein’ you in that again,” he says, taking a purposeful look over your body and you take that moment to snap out of your thoughts, striking your hand on his shoulder. 

Billy’s expecting it. He laughs, then catches your arm, pulling you right up against him, “later, okay? Later you can do that all you want,” he murmurs, nose nudging to yours. Is he trying to soothe you? Amuse you? Anger you more?

“Bonney-”

“Stay right behind me, ‘kay?” Billy turns to the door but you keep a firm grip on the sleeve of his coat to pull him back.

“Bonney.”

He stops, giving you a pointed look. Smackable face. Kissable lips. Lovable for eternity eyes. You realize you’re not sure why you have stopped him. The words are on the tip of your tongue. Something unheard of in your vocabulary. Something you can only remember saying jokingly, but as it tastes itself on your taste buds, you know it isn’t a joke. It’s real. The feeling is real and it’s right there and-

“You’re very hard.” Your voice cracks on the last word and your resolve almost spirals. He knows it. You’re sure he knows it. Do you mean his erection or something else? There’s a passing sense of recognition floating into his eyes before it disperses from him the way it did you.

Billy’s lips do their little side quirk and he shakes his head, “Yes. Stay behind me?”

You nod. 

The adrenaline you felt before is no match for what’s waiting for you outside. Guns firing. Flames blocking your view. Screaming and yelling men, both yours and ones against you, it’s difficult to tell who is who. You know Billy’s though. His voice is always distinct, always pulling you to him. His eyes glance to you after every shot he takes. You hold your own, shooting when Billy is occupied, staying close enough to him to feel the weight of each of his actions. 

It’s a flurry. A blur, almost. Pushing through the snow in your (annoying) dress to get to the horses. You hear Billy yell, “Over here! Over here!”

You laugh in both exasperation and relief as you hear the hooves of the horses and catch a glimpse of Charlie and the others. 

“Boy, am I happy to see you,” Billy says to him, laughing himself. A sound you’d like to burrow your head into. You’ve saved your Billy. His words of later echo in your mind and the heart in your chest spikes its beating. Your blood is pumping, dancing at the chance that yes, you’ve fucking done it. With no hesitation, he grabs your waist to help hoist you up to the horse. Billy gets up on the same one without a thought. 

“Let’s go, let’s go,” Billy says, right at your ear as your horse gallops off into the trees. 

Every part of your body is buzzing. Is it the fact Billy’s right up against you from behind? Or the fact you’ve managed to narrowly escape from a jailbreak? Both, you reckon. 

An overwhelming urge overtakes you. It tells you to sink back into Billy. It tells you to loosen your grip on the saddle, only to feel Billy’s arm hold you in a more secure manner. Yes, we're safe, you think. I've done what I needed to. You feel the tip of his nose edge down on your skin as he looks at you, a slight mutter of your name, but it’s a question. 

Your head swims. Your fingers go numb under the warm gloves. Your breath labors and your eyes barely catch the sight of Billy pulling his hand up and seeing the red coating his fingertips. 

“Fuck! Charlie!”  You hear him curse out, but he sounds distant. There’s a distaste for that in your mind, and you sink back further into him, suddenly frightened at the idea of being so far from him. Limbs are feeling useless but needy for Billy and he holds onto you even tighter, a warm sting of something hitting your neck. Tears? Can’t be. 

“Fuck, you’ll be fine, cowgirl, okay? Just…no,” he almost yells as your eyes droop, “Don’t close your eyes, you’ll be fine, it’s not so bad, I promise, fuck,” his breath hits in quick pants your ear and his hand presses to the sensitive spot on your side. 

Your Billy is holding you. And Your Billy whispers, “I love you,” before your vision goes out.

[atrwriting]

kisses and other sweet things (part 2) -- billy the kid x cowgirl!reader

hey party people :) posting this when I should be studying HAHA

send good vibes for my civil procedure final tomorrow many thx <3

I watched the scene where billy and ollinger fight and this very much inspired it lol enjoy

as always, warnings: smuuuut, p in v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT), dom!billy, brat!reader, violence, blood, pussy slapping, overstimulation

thank you all for reading!!! I love you all so much!!!!

ANYWAYS... part two:

neither one of you told… but it didn’t take long for the others to sniff the air and have an inkling for how the wind changed overnight.

in all honesty, it was billy’s fault.

the man found every way to remain close enough to be considered by your side since that night.

he would sit by you at dinner. he wouldn’t touch another woman. he always looked at you when he told a joke. he always looked at you when someone else said something funny. that joyful twinkle in his eye was reserved for you, and only you, and everyone had picked up on it. not to mention — he’d not only check his horse — but yours as well.

everyone knew what was up. everyone. absolutely everyone.

billy made it abundantly clear without even uttering a word that you two had participated in something similar to carnal relationship.

…but, in all honesty, you didn’t mind.

you would’ve preferred to talk about it, sure. what prevented you from bringing that up to billy was that you didn’t have to pry respect and loyalty out of him — the man just did it, and because he wanted to. it was… okay, fuck it — you have to admit it to yourself: it was nice. billy the kid showing you slightly more than common decency and general enjoyment of your company was nice. you were worried about bringing it up to him at the idea of losing the potential staple of someone having your back, and them trusting you enough to have theirs.

you were fucked. totally fucked. absolutely fucked. no way around it.

the man was a mysterious fuck, as well — looked at you like you were an angel, but has fucked you like even the devil would avert its eyes from the debauchery. respected in the streets, and disrespected in the sheets — every woman’s dreams.

the one unfortunate aspect was… the others. you can usually ignore everyone, and anything — only way to get through life. however, the severity of the teasing had begun to worry you.

it first began with a curt up-down look of when billy always found his way to dismount from his horse and walk next to you. it wasn’t like he was guarding you, no… neither was he following you like a puppy. it was like there was a new form of respect there — and given the fact that most of the men still looked at you like you were just a silly girl, they noticed it. for a split second, in your stupid mind, you thought it would maybe make the rest of the men treat you better — but how could you ever think that? you rolled with these guys because their very existence was about disrespect and taking for themselves.

billy had made you bot outsiders — more than you already were.

like… maybe you weren’t together… but you had each other. you weren’t sure if you could count on him yet — but his actions were… well, they confused you. and you weren’t sure if it was a good or bad confusion yet.

there had been very few moments of privacy, so you were not able to catch him alone and speak about what happened. at first, you figured you both would go about your lives as usual… not wanting to expect too much from a man who appeared to live as he wanted when he wanted to. however… you didn’t expect that how he wanted to live his life was, well — apparently by your side.

unfortunately, thinking things over was not a freedom given to you without obstacles. many of them began giving you and him looks — and then the teasing started. instead of being known by name or a nickname, the men could be heard calling you “billy’s girl” in hushed tones.

you feared the day they finally bucked up the jewels and called you his whore. you knew it was coming — you didn't want it to happen, but you knew it was. you couldn't afford to be naive.

if anyone else called you his girl — you might’ve blushed. you almost relished in it. however, when men who barely respected women called you that and you both worked with them — you knew they didn’t mean it fondly. it annoyed you, especially when you hadn’t been able to even talk about it with billy.

were you his girl? were you a fling? would billy fuck another woman if given the chance? and honestly, did he tell anyone?

questions ran through your head with very few conclusions approaching. you thought their teasing would be the worst of the worst — until it wasn’t.

no… the worst was when billy had fought one of them.

a few days after the teasing had begun to get bad, you had finally stopped at another boarding house and bar with the other boys. you figured you would retire early and let them have their fun — but that would not be the case.

when you eventually had drank your share of booze and went upstairs when the girls came around, that was when ollinger had opened his big, fat mouth.

“when billy’s done, can i get a turn?”

you froze in your tracks.

this was your worst fear — losing their respect. you had worked tirelessly to earn it, and there had been times where you felt like you never did. you may never have had their actually respect, the kind they give to men — but they never did something like that. and when all of them laughed, and began to hoot and holler — that’s when you knew where you stood with them.

fucking billy.

but that wouldn't stop you, no. they brought you on because you were a pretty thing with claws — and that's what they were going to get.

“known you longer than i’ve known him. can’t say you’ve ever peaked my interest,” you spat as you turned around to face him from a few feet away. “don’t know if you’re man enough.”

he stood then, eyes wild. he held the neck of a bottle in one hand and immediately took a swig, appearing to ignite the fire in his eyes and the aggression in his steps toward you.

“you want me to show you a real man, sweetheart?”

you took a step forward, afraid to back down. you narrowed your eyes at him. “you want me to show you how i’m a better shot than you, sweetheart?”

he stepped closer to you then. you didn’t budge — you weren’t sure if that was out of pride or fear. when he stepped closer, the stench of liquor leaked from his mouth like smoke from a wildfire. a smirk was plastered on his face, and staying still and silent was the only thing you could do to hold your ground.

“you know what that makes you, right?” he spat in a low tone. “makes you billy’s whore.”

you couldn't help it — your face twisted with shame and anger. your vision was going almost as red as ollinger's, and you weren't sure if both of you would survive the next action that came from you. before you could process the impact of his words, let alone respond — billy spoke up.

“shut your mouth, ollinger.”

your eyes flickered over to where billy stood with his hands balled at his sides.

ollinger took another swig of his bottle before he turned and stalked over to billy. billy didn’t flinch, but simply watched a drunk ollinger try to keep his cool. the entire group watched — and waited.

“you don’t tell me what to do, boy,” ollinger sneered, clutching his bottle. “you ain’t special. i ain’t never seen anything special about you.”

billy reached for his gun, but did not pull it out. billy’s hands were shaky, and that’s when you realized it — he was drunk too. “alright then — let’s fight it out.”

“i ain’t fightin’ you with a gun.” ollinger brushed off billy’s comment with another careless swig of his drink. “you ain’t that important.”

“then let’s fight with our fuckin’ fists.” billy discarded his gun and the belt it was usually kept in. “like men.”

ollinger’s eyes showed a peak of interest.

your eyes… well, they showed terror.

ollinger walked towards billy with a dip of his chin that suggested he would enjoy the aspect of hurting billy more than winning anything over billy. ollinger already thought he was better than billy, he didn’t need to win anything — but that look in his eye? when predator was threatened by another?

without his gun, you were worried for billy. frankly, billy should’ve shown it — or at least you thought he would. ollinger had at least a decade of years, strength, and experience on billy. not to mention — ollinger has also had a vendetta against billy since they met.

ollinger immediately threw of his belt. “i’ll beat your ass any day.”

as ollinger drained the rest of the bottle, you could hear the hollering of the other men around you as they drew closer. ollinger threw the bottle to the ground and stalked towards billy.

as billy was about to start pulling off his vest, you stepped up to intervene.

you’d at least like to talk to him before he died.

however, jesse stepped in front of you. “can’t get in the way of two men fighting, doll.”

you raised your eyebrow at jesse. “ill cut your cock off.”

jesse only laughed, but kept his arm outstretched in front of you.

with years of experience… you thought ollinger would fight fair — but he caught billy with a jab before billy could get his vest off. you lunged for the pair, but jesse and some of the others held you back.

you didn’t know what to do. sure, you believed in billy — but the man had a tendency of getting his shit rocked in hand to hand combat.

ollinger let out an excited battle cry — and your hate sank into your stomach. billy struggled to get up as you fought against jesse.

“come on, billy!” ollinger baited. “come on, billy!”

you watched the look in billy’s eyes then — assessing the threat. billy immediately dodged a punch over his head, came back up, and started slamming ollinger’s head against a wooden post.

the excitement of the men around you slightly died as they realized that billy didn’t fight like other men — he had no interest in punching, or relishing in getting a lick in. he went straight for a possible kill shot, grunting as he hoped to subdue ollinger.

there would be no stopping either of them. you relented against jesse’s arm, staring at the two men. your mouth parted in horror, and your stomach dropped at the sight.

billy eventually threw him over the picnic table like he was nothing more than a sack of flour. his grunts were predatory — powerful and fucking masculine. fighting was fun for ollinger — but this? this? for billy? this was necessity. he didn’t care about asserting dominance — he cared about being left the fuck alone. he needed to make sure ollinger never fucked about him again. dominance was worth nothing if you didn't have survival.

billy, still intoxicated, stumbled over to where he had thrown ollinger — but ollinger was too quick. he grabbed billy by the boot and threw him back. billy landed on his ass, and you watched in fear as ollinger stomped toward him. his eyes were wild and his mouth was curled into a bloody snarl. you wanted to get involved, you knew you should’ve — but what could you do? this was what happened when you rolled with men like this — they had to fight this out themselves, or they would become everyone’s problem. you hated it — every fucking minute of it — because this problem started with ollinger’s disrespect for you and how you could cut his jewels off before he could even get a kiss in. poor billy…

but not poor billy.

no, not poor billy — because when ollinger stood over billy, billy kicked him so far backwards that ollinger then stumbled and fell on his ass.

billy was up in an instant, stumbling, and smacked the absolute shit out of ollinger with an open palm. ollinger flew backwards for a second time that night, and suddenly the men grew more excited watching the fight. all you could do was trail behind them — worried.

billy walked up to the porch and stood above ollinger, but ollinger’s wounded pride had gotten the better of him. he took billy by the cloth of his shoulders, and slammed him repeatedly against the wooden wall of the outside of the house. jesse and his friends were cheering on billy, but all you could hear was his pained grunts. and then, just then — the moonlight had caught billy’s face just right. his eyes were screwed shut as the pain registered from the blow — and blood was pouring down from his nose and into his mouth. billy fell against ollinger in exhaustion, and that was when pat garett started cheering louder and louder.

“please,” you whispered, helpless.

in an instant, billy had gotten his elbows up and clutched the shoulders of ollinger’s shirt. with (basically) a battle cry, he willed himself to push ollinger off of him, in front of him, and then in through the doors of where all of the other men were with their women.

you followed jesse, pat, and the others.

billy and ollinger immediately crashed into the floor of the house with grunts and screams. the men once getting blown or ridden were now cheering on the fight, and the women above them or at their feet were stunned and confused — worried about getting hit.

this time — billy had gotten up before ollinger. ollinger may have had years of experience on billy, but years were years: ollinger was old, and exhausted. billy stood up and began laying overhead punch after overhead punch onto ollinger.

“get up, ollinger!” he yelled, eyes black. “get the fuck up!”

immediately, billy pulled back. like you had thought — he didn’t need the kill shot, but he needed the threat subdued. billy was breathing heavy, he was bleeding… you were so worried for him. jesse pushed past you and grabbed billy’s arm, raising it above his head.

“boys, we got a winner!” jesse cheered before everyone followed in suit.

billy fell back against the nearest bed and sat down. it just so happened that was a bed that your oldest friend was sharing with a woman. stunned, the woman grabbed billy by the shoulders to steady him. she wiped some of the blood off of his face with his shirt. you were thankful — but then her smile turned big when she realized how handsome he was.

your blood boiled.

you watched at his big eyes darted up to her face as he tried to regain his composure. he took one look at her face, your friend, and got up.

he spat once on the floor, cleaning his mouth of any excess blood. over his shoulder, he threw, “no hard feelings, ollinger.”

and started straight towards you.

you stood there, in the back behind everyone, frozen in place. billy was in front of you in as little as five strides. thankfully she had wiped his face — because he only tasted vaguely like blood when he grabbed you by the face and pressed your lips to his.

he cupped your face with one hand, but it held you in place like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. with his finger stroking your cheek, you kissed him with every bit of fear, frustration, and excitement you had in you. your lips folded together like you two were the only ones in the room — and like everyone in the room wasn’t cheering for the clear winner of the fight, and the kiss with the girl the fight was started over.

billy had stood up for you. the one man who had actually ever done that.

against your lips, he whispered. “i know you could handle himself yourself — but you shouldn’t have had to.”

you giggled against his lips, yours stretching into a wide grin. he pecked your lips a couple of times, unable to get enough of being the only one to be able to do this. he replied, “never had much taste for these girls — had a different one in mind.”

“you gonna take her somewhere private, cowboy, or what?” you asked.

billy’s eyes twinkled with mischief before he bent low, and hauled you over his shoulder. your feet kicked in front of him as you struggled to hold your hat in place and keep your balance. you were shouting at him, but nothing could be heard over your giggles or everyone else’s whistling. with one firm arm circling your hips, keeping your ass in place with his massive hand, he kicked open the doors and brought you upstairs.

“billy, if you don’t put me down —“ you laughed, breathlessly. threats were futile. “i swear —“

“shhh, sweetheart — you know i’ll take care of you,” he responded.

billy found an empty bedroom and immediately went to work. he sat you down on a low dresser and immediately started going for your riding pants and shirt. you kicked off your boots and shimmied out of the fabric as billy stood over you.

with one hand pressed to your cheek, he kissed you once more. you pulled away to smile at him. you spoke, “thank you… for what you did.”

“ollinger needs to know when to shut his mouth,” he spoke, engulfing you in a kiss once more. “should’ve made a move if he was jealous. now i’m the only one who gets to have my face between these pretty thighs.”

he pulled you by the hips so you were almost hanging off the edge, your feet flat against the wood of the dresser. you were breathless as your head began to swim. billy got down on his knees, parted your thighs, and dove for your slit.

your head immediately hit the wall. you wanted to arch your back — keen towards him — but you had limited mobility. you were at the mercy of the man before you who was lapping at your clit like nothing else existed. you should've been worried about his injuries, the dried blood on your face... but you couldn't. you didn't. billy was satisfying every bit of desperation you had felt since that night and you were too strung out to fight him. strained moans left your lips as your hips began to buck into his face.

“billy, stop…” you whined. “i want you inside me…”

he didn’t listen. the man kept his tongue drawing all kinds of messy, wet circles around your sensitive bud that pulled every dirty whine out of you. in an instant, billy pushed two fingers into you and immediately started pumping them. you lost your breath — and your ability to speak coherent sentences as well. he was tapping against your upper wall, pining for that sweet spot that was gonna make you sing for him.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cried. one of your hands found his tangled mess of curls and fisted your fingers through them. billy’s tongue was thick, hot, and the roof of it was rough as he shook his head against your center, increasing the friction. your hips and legs were spasming uncontrollably as a warm feeling spread from your abdomen. “jesus christ — you’re so mean.”

the air seemed to shift in that moment, but you were so lost you couldn’t comprehend. billy wrapped his cracked lips around your clit, and pulled at it and sucked. hard.

your eyes screwed shut as a cry vibrated through your chest and into your throat. it hurt, god it hurt, but in the most bittersweet way you could imagine. it was like pain and comfort all in one, delivered by the same hand, driving you into submission. every blood vessel was throbbing, throbbing, throbbing for billy’s movements and you couldn’t regain control — and you weren't sure you wanted to.

he suddenly pulled away. “you think i’m mean, sweetheart?”

his blue eyes pierced into yours when he picked up his head to face you. his eyes were raised in a manner that suggested he expected a response, but you were still in your daze. your eyes were glossy, your lips were puffy and parted, hoping he'd answer his question for you.

billy didn’t like that. with his free hand, he slapped your clit.

your body jolted, surprised at the sensation. it made your breath catch in your throat as all of your senses were on red alert... but it only made your pussy throb harder.

“billy…” you whispered, tears coming to your eyes. “you’re teasing me.”

his dry thumb began to rub circles around your sensitive clit, and the mixture of your slick and the rough skin of his dumb drew you into his control. in that moment — in that raw, vulnerable moment — you couldn’t think of anything else besides billy, and getting him to make you cum.

“mean, that it, sweetheart?” another slap to your clit. “you want me to show you mean?”

even in your haze, you were a brat at heart. with a smirk, yet shaking from how sensitive you were, you smirked at him. “don’t think you can.”

in an instant, he was on his feet. you struggled to ring out your tense muscles and stand with him, but billy wasn’t having it. he flipped you around so you were on your stomach on the dresser, legs hanging over the edge. billy pulled your hips up for you to stand on your toes, forcing your ass into the perfect position for him.

“slut for only me, huh?” he asked, kneading the skin of your ass in his hands. he slapped it once, twice, thrice — ripping little squeals from your petal pink lips. his thumb found its way into the outer folds of your pussy, barely entering. “won’t throw even a pity glance at anyone down there — but something about me just gets you this wet.”

he pushed his thumb into your sopping wet hole, and you squealed. you held onto the dresser to give yourself leverage to push yourself into his hand, but one of his hands held down your lower back.

“more, please…” you whispered.

“that smirk made me think you don’t deserve it,” he spat, still playing with your pretty pussy.

“billy —!” you screamed with exasperation. “please!”

with his thumb still in your pussy, billy leant down and wrapped an arm around your throat. with your neck in the crook of his elbow, he pulled your back to arch up towards him. billy placed his lips right by your ear, and spoke, “is that who’s got you this worked up, baby? huh? me? be sweet, and maybe i’ll kiss those pretty tears away.”

you hadn’t even noticed it — but he was right. your cheeks were stained with tear streaks that made them damp. with broken breaths, you spoke, “please — i promise.”

he began to pump his thumb into your pussy, while his other fingers worked light circles around your clit. “promise what?”

“that i’m — that i —“ you couldn’t get the words out. you were a struggling mess — clinging to the dresser with the little strength in your hands you could muster, and completely at the mercy of billy’s hold. his breath was hot against your face as heat rose throughout your body. “i —“

“fucked so dumb you can't use your words?”

“fuck —“ you cried, already almost succumbing to the feather light touches on your clit. “you’re the only one, billy — only one — please, just let me cum.”

“yeah?” he grunted. “gonna take what i give you?”

“anything, billy —“ you gasped. “please — just want you.”

billy kept his promise. he pressed his lips against your cheek, pushing your head slightly to the side. every muscle in your body was taut with trying to remain balanced and stay perked for every one of billy’s moments. his fingers in your clit began working faster and harder, and your body began to shake. you were so sensitive to everything around you — his kisses, his chokehold, his heat on your back, his fingers buried deep in your folds. you bucked his hips back into his hand, and everything exploded.

without billy’s hold, you would’ve collapse into the dresser. your knuckles were white as they bent, causing your nails to rip at the wood of the dresser. you back was arched completely towards the ceiling as you tried to remain in position. billy was whispering nasty, nasty, nasty things in your ear that coupled with your delicious moans.

“that’s it, baby, just keep cumming for me,” he rasped, groaning in your ear. “can be such a brat — but she’s got the prettiest pussy. i know what makes my girl tick.“

“yeah, yeah, yes —“ you cried, falling against billy’s shoulder. the world melted before you. your eyes were drifting open and closed. the haze had consumed your brain, and each of billy’s movements made a whine well up behind your closed lips. “fuck, billy, i can’t —“

his fingers didn’t stop, and you felt like you were about to collapse. “oh, sweetheart, too much for you?”

you were practically fucking sobbing at this point. “n-no-no—“

“greedy, baby,” he said, licking at your cheek. “thought you were gonna take everything i gave you?”

“your cock, billy — please —“

“naw, sweetheart,” he said stroking your cheek. “think you’re in over your pretty little head. can’t take anymore.”

“no, no, billy — i want your cock so bad —“ your whines were music to his fucking ears.

“yeah, baby?” he asked, shimmying off his pants. “you want my cock? think you can handle it?”

“i can, i can, i can —“ you chanted, your head swimming. you felt billy’s hands spread your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands. his cock slipped in through your folds until he bottomed out, pressing his hips firmly against your back side.

with billy’s mouth still so close to your ear, he rasped, “sucked my cock into you, doll. couldn’t help yourself, huh?”

you arched your backside into his hips, eagerly hoping to meet every thrust. billy had once hand holding your hips down, and the other was clutching the soft, supple skin of your throat. you could hear every labored breath of his, mixing with your own. this position was unlike any other: from the back was usually reserved for women of the night, but holding you? in such an intimate manner? with his lips dragging across the skin of your cheek? waiting for how you reacted to his touch?

you were a mess. mud in his hands — dirty and messy and everywhere —needing him to keep you together.

“nothin’ feels better than you inside me, billy,” you whined.

“i know, darlin’, i’ll always take care of you,” he groaned, lips pulling at your ear lobe which sent your nerve endings on fire. “don’t know how you do it t’me. y’let me, and i'll always be back in between these pretty thighs.”

the groan you let out was hoarse in the most feminine way. your hair was splayed out all around you, cascading down your back. with every thrust, your nipples, taut, hit the cool wood of the dresser and mirrored the smallest bit of pain you needed to leave reality. your skin was flushed and tainted with every touch and caress from billy he gave you. when he saw the blush on your cheeks, and the tears staining your long lashes — he could’ve come right then.

his girl. his pure, fucked out, sweet and scary girl. all his. a force to be reckoned with, but the prettiest sight to see. and you were all his.

however, he wasn’t through with you yet.

no. he was so mean, and he knew it — but he didn't care.

not when he had finally had you after so long.

it was right then that billy promised himself he would never neglect you for so long ever again. he knew that no one had ever touched, fucked, or loved you like he did. he knew that you never let anyone even get as close to him as you let him that night, and he would never forget that — nor would he be so careless as being ungrateful.

his girl — flushed, pink, and finally being able to know what it means to be so vulnerable with a man that she would never know an orgasm like this. he would set the fires of hell on anyone around you if it meant that you could feel this free, so wild, so yourself for the rest of your life. he knew what he had to do next.

he pulled out, and flipped you over so you were back against the wall and sitting up. he immediately stepped in between you and pushed your thighs and legs up so your calves would rest on his shoulders.

“need to feel how deep that pussy can squeeze me,” he grunted, pressing his cock into your folds.

you moaned at his words and movements, practically sand at this point. your body was numb and on fire and in water all at the same time — leaving you completely out of control. all you needed, no — craved was billy sending you over the edge. over the edge, please, over, over, over, need it billy, a pathetic mess you were, but neither of you would change it for the world.

billy began pistoning his hips into yours and you immediately leaned forward to grab onto his bulging biceps. you felt every hot breath hit your face with every thrust. the room was so hot, stuffy, humid, and yet you didn’t want it to end. all you could feel was your tight, soft walls squeezing the living hell out of billy and his beautiful cock.

“‘m gonna cum, billy,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut.

“yeah, ‘cause you’re a good girl f’me, huh?” he bit. “always takin’ everything i give her. takes my cock so well.”

“only for you, baby,” you cried again, throwing your head back against the wall.

“oh — i don’t think so, sweetheart.” his thumb immediately went to your clit, drawing rough circles on the overstimulated rosebud. "i get to see those pretty eyes when you cum."

your body immediately went taut, sitting up. the slight shake of your limbs was apparent to both of you, and you let out little gasps because of how far you were driven from reality. his cock was pounding against that one sweet spot that made your knuckles white and your teeth bury themselves into the plump of your bottom lip.

“can’t,” you cried, tears beginning to flow once more. "oh, baby — i can't, i can't..."

“i know this pussy can handle it,” he bit. “what happened to being sweet, sugar? huh? goin’ back on your promise?”

his words were the last thing you heard before your body fell mercy to uncontrollable ecstasy. your mind, numb, was thrown back and forth between the throws of passion and the pull and push of billy’s hands bruising the flesh of your hips. you pressed your forehead to billy’s, sobbing through your gritted teeth. tears were pushing through your shut, wrinkled eyelids, and all you could hear was billy begging — coaxing that last orgasm out of you.

billy had won the fight, and he had earned every fucking orgasm he had given you that night. he needed it, he earned it, and he would not be denied it. testosterone was mixing with his blood, making his veins pound, and all he could think about how the scary and sweet girl he won a fight for was weak and needy for his touch.

desperate for a comfort that she hd only allowed him to give her.

he detached your foreheads so your faces were almost pressed together, sides of your noses touching. his lips were brushing against yours — but they weren't kissing you, no. instead, they were reminding you of exactly who you belonged to.

“sweetest fuckin’ girl i know.”

"luckiest guy in this whole thing — you get that? all fuckin' jealous of me."

“knows exactly what to do to fuckin’ please me.”

“pussy just won’t stop cumming, sugar? bet you hate me so much, huh?”

with one final pull of pleasure in your muscles, you screamed his name with a sob. a fucking sob. you were drenched in sweat, your own slick, and tears. fucking tears. they were everywhere — down your cheeks, your neck, and all over billy. your hands found the hair at the back of his neck, and you weaved your fingers through the tendrils for stability.

that was when billy’s orgasm hit him: when you were so weak you could do nothing but cling to him and cry for his touch.

the throaty groan that rumbled through his chest was unlike anything you ever heard. it was animalistic — a primal need was satisfied and everything in his body was singing at the release. he clutched your body to his and your skin warmed at the embrace. he delivered three final pumps into your puffy, pink pussy, and you couldn’t do anything besides take it. you didn't want to do anything else besides take it. the sound of his moans sent every hair on your body standing at attention and your fingers were stroking his soft skin for comfort.

“that’s it, baby,” you whispered, cockdrunk. “love when you're the only one that gets to use me like this.”

at that, he knew you'd be the death of him. he accepted it, and he was okay with it. — happy, even.

you were peppering kisses all over the side of his face as he was coming down from his high. a sleepy haze settled over his eyes, but instead he captured your lips into one final embrace.

“this is the second time this evening i’ve had my shit rocked tonight, darlin’, all because of you,” he whispered. “no dull moment with you, huh?”

“never, baby,” you whispered, letting your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned against him.

“good thing you’re mine,” he quipped, pressing a long and hard kiss to your cheek. “never could share a sweet thing like you.”

----

im buzzing after that

love u guys hehe

-L oxoxox

[eymie]

SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY !

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

warnings: smut, alcohol, fingering, oral (m. receiving), praise, riding, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

summary: you meet while tending to your grandfather saloon while he’s ill. you can help but take a liking to him.

a/n: i kind of hate this so much

You spent a significant amount of time in your grandfathers saloon. At least in the past couple years you have. You knew all the regulars, good or bad. You weren't good at tending to the bar but you could pour a glass of whiskey if your grandfather needed help. That's what most men wanted anyway.

You always recognized new faces, and you recognized that this man was new. You had heard whispers of an outlaw in town, you didn't care for rumors.

You were tending to the bar alone again. It was the time of day where the saloon was almost empty. That new face sat down at the bar, head hung low.

"Whiskey?" He looked up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. He nodded and you poured him a glass, sliding it over to him. You tended to a few other customers but it was almost closing time.

"How long you open?" You heard the voice say, you turned to meet that mans gaze again. His glass was empty and his fingers drummed on the edge of the table

"Not too much longer I'm afraid." You smile, wiping down a table. You walk over to the bar he sat at, wiping off some spilled whiskey. "I can give you another round, if you'd like."

"Yes ma'am." He said, watching you walk over to grab the bottle again. You laughed to yourself, turning to refill his glass.

"You don't gotta call me ma'am." Ma'am made you feel old, you were not old. He wasn't either, just around your age if you were to assume. Although the eyebags and dirt on his cheeks might disguise that.

"I don't know what else you'd like me to call you." He laughed, hanging his head back down low. He looked back up, waiting for you to tell him your name.

"Well, I don't even know your name." You tossed the cloth back into the bucket, sitting down next to Billy. Resting your head on your fist.

"Billy." He stated, cutting it short.

It registered to you who he was. The outlaw, Billy the kid. You didn't care, who cares if he was dangerous when he was chatting with you like any other gentleman.

"Billy what?" You smiled, trying to ease out his last name. HIs smile dropped, twiddling with his hands.

"Don't matter." All he said, it was true, didn't matter all. You knew who he was, he probably knew that you knew. He didn't have an accent like any of the boys you knew. You liked how foreign he sounded to you.

"Suppose not." You shrug, standing up to clean up the rest of the saloon. Pushing in the chair that the men had forgotten to. There were cards left out on the tables, along with some empty glasses.

"I suppose you should be locking up right about now." He reminded you, you turned to look at him. You liked how messy his brown hair was under his hat. Was it too embarrassing to flirt with this man, an outlaw?

"You can stay longer, if you'd like of course." You wanted him to stay, as long as he liked. You didn't want him to leave at all. "I don't mind at all."

It was silent for a few moment, the only noises being the clinking of glasses you picked up.

"You got a man?" It came off as a surprise. You turned to him who patiently awaited your answer.

"I do not I'm afraid." You tell him, walking back over to where he was. You waited a few seconds before speaking up again. "You got a girl?"

"No time for that." He'd been with a few women in his time, never keeping them too long. You felt a sense of relief wash over you knowing he didn't have a girl.

"Me neither." The men in town weren't anyone that interested you. The men your age were fools, drunken fools. Some of them had women and were getting married. The other ones were wastes of good air.

"Not sure I believe that." He wasn't entirely wrong. Sometimes men took a liking to you, not that you had paid much attention to them. There had only been a few that caught your interest.

"Why not?" You ask innocently, untying your apron and hanging it it up.

"A pretty girl like you, young and running a bar. Bet you're meeting suitors everyday." Everyday was exaggerated but he was right enough. A saloon full of men had its pros and cons.

"I suppose so, I haven't met one that interests me yet." You shrug, looking over at him. He caught you gaze, knowing exactly what you wanted. "Well, until now."

"You live here?" He asked, eyeing the stairs in the corner of the room leading to a loft.

"Yeah, just upstairs." You nod, backing up towards the stairs with Billy following after you. "Why? You wanna come see?"

"I think I'd like that."

Billy swallowed the last of his whiskey, leaving the empty class on the counter. He followed after you up the stairs to the loft. It wasn't much but it was yours. Billy's hands traveling to your hips from behind. Feeling the fabric of your dress between his fingers.

You turned around, smelling the whiskey on his breath. He kissed along your neck and jawline before he dares kiss you. When he does, you couldn't but moan into his mouth. Your hands pulling his face in deeper. He pulls your skirt up as far as he could before you pulling his hands off. You pull away from his face, falling to your knees in front of him.

His hand caresses your cheek, tilting your face up. His thumb brushes your lips, parting them. You welcome his thumb into your mouth, wrapping your lips around it. He pushed his thumb harder against your tongue.

"Good girl," He pulls his hand from you, your mouth releasing his thumb with a loud pop. You wait patiently as he unbuttons and zips down his pants. You help pull them down far enough to reveal his boxer. You look up at him awaiting his approval, he nods down at you.

You pull down his boxer, revealing his hard length. It was long, a slight curve to it. The prettiest one you've ever seen. He watches as you spit on your hand, wrapping your fingers around his cock. You stroke him experimentally, he groaned at the feeling, throwing back his head. Your tongue runs along the vein running along the underside of his cock.

"That's it-- Ohh, fuck." He groans as you suck his tip into your mouth. His hands travel to your hand, threading his fingers in it. You pushed you head down as far as you could, his tip hitting the back of your throat. "So warm and wet-- good girl."

You stroke his cock where your mouth can't reach. He bucks his hips, his cock poking at the back of your throat making you sputter. Tears brimming your eyes as you take him as far into your throat as you can, causing you to gag around his length.

"Shit--" He groans, throwing his head back as you bob your head. Your cheeks hollowing as you suck harder, silently begging for him to cum in your throat. "I'm--fuck, I'm coming."

Your eyes roll back as his hot seed spills down your throat, the salty taste on your tongue. You pull of his cock, sitting on the ground in front of him. You swallow what he gave you, sticking out your tongue to show him.

"God, you're something else." He pulled back her head, making him look up at him. You look up at him with glossy eyes and the taste of him on your tongue. He pulls you back up to your feet, pulling you in. He kissed you like he was starved, he felt starved of you. His hands pull at the lacing off your corset, pulling it open.

Your corset felling to the ground in between your feet. Billy was quick with his hands, pulling at the fabric of your clothes. His calloused hands rub your soft skin, pulling the rest of your clothing off. Your dress fell the floor, next your bloomers.

Your delicate fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, pulling it open. You kissed along his jaw, and down his neck. You teeth grazed his pale skin, nipping and sucking at it. Soft purple bruises decorating his skin. His hands pulled your bare skin against him, his hands grazing the fat of your breasts. He walked you backwards towards the bed until your legs hit the frame.

Billy laid you down against the bed, discarding the last of his clothes. You laid sprawled against your white sheets as he crawled over you. His hands spreading your thighs, sliding down to your wet folds. His teeth grazed your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue swirling around your hard nipple.

"Wait-- Billy," His mouth engulfs any words you have left. Swallowing them into the kiss. Two fingers push past your folds, sinking into your wet pussy. Your tight walls stretching out around his thick fingers. Thick than yours, longer too.

You whined into his kiss, his fingers speeding up. Your walls clench around them, jerking your hips up. His thumb rubs along your swollen clit that begged for attention.

You pulled back from the kiss. "Billy, wait Billy. Let me ride you."

Billy groaned into your neck, pulling his fingers from your pussy. They were wet with your juices, smearing it onto your thighs.

"Open," You opened your mouth, sucking his fingers in your mouth. Your juices mixing with your saliva. He pulled his fingers from your wet mouth, pulling you on top of him. "Come on now, keep your word."

You furrowed your brows as Billy placed his hat on top of your head. His hard cock presses against your ass, dripping precum from the tip. You slowly lift your hips above him, directing his tip to your entrance. Sliding down, his girth stretching you wider than before. Your hands press against his chest for stability. Billy throws his head against the pillow, his hands sliding down to your hips helping you rise up and slide back down.

"Just like that." Billy's hands gripped your hips, guiding your hips up and down. His hips thrusted up to meet yours. Whimpers leaving your lips as his cock brushes your cervix.

"God, Billy--" You moan out, jaw going slack as he thrusts from below. Your walls clench around him, he groaned in respond. His fingertips pressed into the fat of your hips, leaving crescent shaped marks. "Need--Gonna come."

"Mm, come for me." Your hips ground into his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis. Billy pulled you harder down against him, slamming you down. His thumb rubbed at you clit, begging you to come. "That's it, so good for me."

Billy pulled you down against his chest, bending his knees so he fuck into you. He pulled your head into his chest muffling your moans. Your hands scratched at his chest as you came around his cock, relentlessly pounding you through your orgasm.

His hands pulled you off his cock, spilling his seed onto the sheets. You laid against his chest, the hat long fallen off. He panted as he laid back against your sheet, your body collapsed against his chest.

"So good for me."

masterlist

[kisses4kaia]

im begging you on my knees sobbinggg to write pussy drunk billy that loses control at the mere smell or touch of us  😩😩

ur so real for this . billy the mutha fuckkin kid the man u are — also ur patience is so appreciated baby💕

“please, darlin’. i’ll be fast, i promise, i just—i just need you so bad right now. please, angel, just this once?” billy breathes against your neck in between kisses. “billy…” you sighed out, a near groan as you tried to press some distance between the two of you. he doesn’t even regard your attempt before he’s pushing you back onto the grimy bathroom wall.

“i have to get back,” you tried to reason, but as billy’s calloused hands ran up your thighs to hike up your little linen dress, you couldn’t really remember what it was you needed to get back to. “drivin’ me crazy out there, don’t you know? with that way you touch my hair, or the way you hook your fingers through my belt loops. goin’ fuckin’ insane, ‘cause of you,” his hands make quick work of his belt and buttons and zipper as you subconsciously pull your own panties to the side.

he bites his lower lip to contain a smile at your needy state; knowing you longed for him making him want you that much more.

“i’ll be quick, baby.” he promised, spitting in his hand and stroking himself gently before letting his cock slip past your slick folds and inside of you.

there’s an apprehension that is left unspoken as you and billy hasten to your climaxes, his hand dropping from your hip to circle his roughened thumb pad against your puffy clit as his thrusts sped up and fell desperate to lust. “come on now, you gonna come for me or what? i wanna feel you, angel. go on, then. come for me, darlin’,” his gruff voice reverberated against all five of your senses, sending you over the edge with a choked gasp, a long since held in moan breaking through. “shh, baby. they’ll hear you all the way in montreal, you know that,” he said, smirking through his words, pleased at the effect he has on you.

it only took a few more thrusts before he was groaning and gasping and whimpering in your ear, head pressed to the crook of your neck. he pulled out and painted white ribbons over your stomach, dress pulled up and exposing your lower abs.

“so good for me. always such a fuckin’ doll. ‘ll keep you forever, what do you think about that?” your mind is barely unclouding as you nod, murmuring a little ‘uh huh’, pulling billy in for one last kiss before he goes away. grabbing the bandana out of his back denim pocket, he cleans the mess off of you and leaves with a kiss to your cheek, and a little, frisky, gentle, smack to your ass.

[hearts4court]

friends with benefits, fem!reader, lovestruck!billy,

a/n: ignore the lazy and shit writing. i wrote this at 11pm and posted it the next day. courtney writing detailed smut? she must be on her meds. inspired by my baby @khaosprism <3

"wear the hat, ride the cowboy."

is all jess has been saying when you innocently put on billy's hat after helping him with his wounds from a fight that happened earlier that day.

"cmon, jess. Knock it off." billy mumbled. Jess nodded and complied, still snickering to himself. "what— what does that mean?" you ask. you think you understand what it means, you just wanna make sure.

"just some sexual joke goin around. don't worry about it, darlin." billy said, his western accent showing out, making you bite your lip. you always loved that damn accent.

you scrunched your nose, receiving an eyebrow raise from billy. "what's wrong, darlin?" he asked, slightly concerned for you. "nothing, billy." you assure, pausing for a moment. "just thinking about what jessie said." you muttered, taking his hat off.

"put it back on." he said immediately, making your eyes widened. "w-what?" you stutter out. "put. it. back. on." he said snatching it out of your hands and putting it back on your head. "you're the only person who can wear my hat and that's because i stuff my dick into you almost every night." he whispered in your ear, making you blush.

"fuck— oh, fuck!" you moaned throwing your head back as billy gripped onto your hips, guiding you on his cock as your rode him. "look how pretty ya look on me, baby." he groaned softly.

your pussy clenching around him as he slid in and out of you, hitting your womb with each thrust. "billy— fuck... billy please." you whine. "shh, i gotcha, princess. i gotcha." he reassured, kissing your jaw. leaving hickeys on your neck to show everyone you belong to him.

billy gripped your chin, making you open your eyes and look at him. "look at me. lemme see those pretty eyes, princess." he demanded, your overstimulated eyes looking back at his lustful and loverstruck ones.

"good girl. such a good girl f'me, aren't you?" he mocked making you nod and cry out as you threw your head back, billy quickly pulling your head back to look at him.

"yes, yes— you're good girl. only yours billy— oh i promise only yours." you whined, your hips slowing down on bouncing on his cock, meaning you were getting close.

"cum f'me. cum all of my cock, baby." billy said, leaving more hickeys on his shoulder as his cock twitched inside of you. It didn't take long before you came, followed by billy.

his cum and yours leaking out of you, "fuck.."you whined, leaning your forehead against shoulder, burying your face in his neck.

Don’t copy, translate or repost any of my work w/o my permission.

[milliesfishes]

hi hi hi hi hi !!!! i know you’ve done billy with a clumsy girl, short and tall girl BUT what about billy with a girl who is always sleepy, she’s just always ready for a nap, if she gets cozy, she WILL be falling asleep 😭

-🧸🎀

౨ৎ꣑ৎbilly with his sleepy girl౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid @babydollemsy <3 <3 <3 <3

Billy lowered himself to his knees, setting a gentle hand on your back. Your arms were folded on the table, head resting on them. He couldn't see your eyes, but it was easy to guess that they were closed. "Baby? You okay?"

Slowly, you lifted your head, blinking groggily. "Mhm."

He couldn't help his smile. "You fell asleep again."

Sitting up straighter, you stretched, squeezing your eyes shut and smiling softly. "I tried to wait but then it was so warm in here and we've been out for two whole hours..."

"It's okay, sweetheart," he promised, smoothing a hand over your hair. It was a little messy on one side where you'd been lying down. "You ready to go? I'm all finished up."

"Mkay," you mumbled, blinking sleepily. He wouldn't have dared leave you alone if the saloon wasn't nearly empty and if the bartender wasn't a good friend of his. When a friend had beckoned him to a back room to chat, he'd known there was a chance you'd be passed out when he came back. Had it been a crowded night he would have brought you with him.

One thing Billy had very quickly learned about you was that you had the ability to fall asleep just about anywhere. Whenever you spent the night, you would pass out quickly, especially if the two of you had participated in activities beforehand that left you both bare. But it wasn't just in bed that you would fall asleep in the blink of an eye.

In your favorite flower-filled meadow you'd dozed off in his lap more times than he could count. Even when you were on the same horse sometimes, Billy would feel you start to grow heavier, your body slumping against him. He'd smile and tap your waist when that happened. "Stay with me, honey. Almost there."

When he brought you to the bar with his friends, oftentimes he'd sit you in his lap during a poker game. You liked watching him play, looking at his hand with curious eyes. But if the temperature was just right and you got cozy enough, there were times when you'd rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Billy was quick to adjust, keeping a hand on your middle and holding you to him so you wouldn't slide off his thigh.

He thought it was adorable, but you found it embarrassing at times. Especially when it would happen in public, you'd whisper to him, "You should have woken me up."

"Nobody thought anything of it," he'd whisper back, kissing your forehead. "You were sleepy. It's okay."

Since you were so prone to sleep, it was far more concerning when you weren't able to.

Billy woke one morning while it was still dark to you sitting up in bed, your knees pressed to your chest. He frowned, rolling over and reaching over to you. "Baby?"

"I can't sleep," you mumbled. He could see how tired you were, your eyes dull. When he thought about it, he couldn't remember you having taken a nap of any kind today, which was unusual.

For a moment he wasn't sure what to do. You'd never had troubles of this sort before, not while he'd been around. Reaching for you, he tried to find a solution. "C'mere, sweet girl. You're okay."

You crawled into his arms, slumping against him with a little "Hm." Billy couldn't help his smile, pressing his mouth to your hair and breathing you in for a moment.

He let his hand trail under your nightdress, flattening his palm on your spine as he spoke softly to you. "D'you remember that day when we counted clouds? 'n you saw one shaped like a heart?"

"Mhm," you mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder. Billy pulled you to sit on top of him, and you snuggled close.

"Think about the clouds, baby." He spoke in what he hoped was a soothing way, still rubbing your back. "Those pretty clouds...you looked so pretty that day."

You smiled into his neck. "Pretty clouds."

"Yeah." Billy could feel you relaxing against him, and he stroked your hair, twisting a soft strand between his fingers. "Oh, my girl...you're so sleepy, huh? You're getting so sleepy."

His words had their intended effect, and you sighed, closing your eyes. Your breathing grew soft, and he never ceased his gentle stroking. When your body gave its telltale signs of sleep, he murmured, "There you go."

Kissing your forehead, he began to let himself drift off too, sure you'd stay in your dreams until morning, the place you loved most.

[sapphire-writes]

Lassoed Heart

summary: You're not ready for Billy to leave just yet.

pairing: Billy x fem!Reader

warnings: 18+/NSFW/MDNI - absolute filth with no plot whatsoever, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving)

word count: 2k

note: belated Christmas gift for my ride or die @undertheorangetree

note: hope you enjoy!

link to other stories from me!

To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on 💙

“I’ll be heading out now,” Billy calls from the other room. 

You pout, staring at your reflection in the mirror as you begin to get dressed. Always on the move, your cowboy. Restless that one is. You’d spent the night together, carried over the threshold by Billy after a long night out with friends. You’d giggled all the while as he insisted on carrying you from your horse to the door.

“I can walk—” you’d tried to argue, but Billy insisted.

A night of passion and lovemaking ensued, then much too quickly the morning light came to steal him away. Just for the morning he assured you. He had some business to attend and then he’d be back in you arms. 

Still, any amount of parting from him left an ache in your chest.

“Could you come help me first?” you call to him, facing the doorway.

Billy is quick to enter, buttoning his shirt while he does before meeting your eyes. It's only for a moment before his eyes drop to your scantily clad form, jaw slacking. Your cheeks warm as his eyes undress you further. 

“You look…,” he loses whatever words attempted to come to mind as you turn your back toward him, staring at his reflection through the mirror. You watch as he walks toward you, a lion stalking his prey.

His pupils dilate as you shakily inhale, breasts straining against the fabric of your bodice as your heart beats wildly. A new style, showing much more cleavage than you’d been used to. A change Billy seemed to appreciate. 

“Lace me up?” you murmur, a smile twitching on your lips as he staggers the rest of the way forward.

Hesitantly, he reaches for the laces, beginning to string them through the open holes. He pauses for a moment, fingertips caressing the smooth skin of your back. A shiver rolls down your spine, goosebumps rising on your flesh. A moment later he tentatively pulls, drawing the fabric together. 

“Harder.”

His hands slip as you speak, nerves getting the better of him. 

“What?” He asks, nearly choking on the word.

You wet your lips, trying to hide your smile before biting down hard on your lower lip. How you adore teasing him.

“You have to pull harder.”

Billy leans closer, his chin nearly resting on your shoulder as he turns his lips against the sensitive patch of skin just below your ear.

“Like this?” he asks, just as he pulls, causing a gasp leaving your lips, “that hard enough, doll?”

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly, as his lips skim against the skin of your throat.

“You’re sure?” he murmurs, his words finished with a kiss against your neck. 

Your head falls back against him.

“Maybe a little harder,” you murmur. Billy wraps the silk once around his hand, tugging even harder than before. The bodice tightens significantly this time, the strength of Billy’s hands cinching your waist as small as your body allows. 

Billy hums, securing the silk with a finishing bow, lips still pressed against your throat.

“Thank you.”

You sound more breathless than you’d like, gazing at his expression in the mirror. His hands circle your waist, pressing you flush against him. One hand splays over your stomach and his jaw slacks as he meets your gaze. There’s fire in his blue eyes and you can’t help but reach your hand up to caress his face. 

He’s so handsome. Too handsome, really, your vigilante. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, voice rough as gravel, hands never leaving you, “God, how did I get so lucky?”

“Shouldn’t you be off?” you ask, ignoring his praise.

He doesn’t answer, simply tightens his hold on you, turning you to face him. His hand cups your cheek, the other resting against your lower back. 

“Billy,” you scold, but your tone is teasing as he drags you toward the bed. He backs up until the back of his knees hit the mattress and he sits with a thud, both hands dropping to your waist. 

“I’ll be quick,” he promises, hands already pawing at your stockings, hoisting one of your legs to rest on the bed.

“You’re never quick.”

“You can’t leave me like this,” he argues, rolling down your left stocking, revealing the soft flesh of your thigh, “Think I can leave without having a taste? Didn’t think you were that cruel, darlin’.”

“Oh, I’m cruel, am I?” you counter, unable to stop your smile, nor the shiver that rolls through you as he leans forward, pressing a wet kiss on your inner thigh.

A breathy sigh leaves your lips as his kisses trail inward down your thigh until he reaches the crease of your hip and hums. 

“God damn,” he murmurs, looking up at you, “You drive me crazy, y’know that?”

You bite your lip, nodding your head. His grip on your leg tightens, and suddenly, his arm circles your waist and he flips you onto the bed. You land on your back with a squeal before he’s on you, silencing your startled cry with a kiss. 

Though his hands are rough he fingers grip your waist affectionately, thumbs brushing against your hip bones. He kisses you deeper, slotting himself between your legs, molding his lithe body against yours. 

You can feel his desire pressing against you, hard and wanting as he grinds against you. Billy is never one to put his pleasure before yours. He kisses you once more before traveling lower, pushing your skits around your waist as his head lowers between your thighs.

You feel a sharp pinch and cry out at the sudden burst of pain.

Billy pokes his head up, hair ruffled and a lopsided curious smile on his face. 

“Where’re your bloomers?”

You grab a fist full of your skirts, thighs spread in invitation as you gleefully bite your lip.

“I must’ve forgotten them. You’ve interrupted me, you see.”

Bully groans, shaking his head before he disappears once more. His warm breath on your aching cunt is the first thing you feel before his tongue follows soon after.  A breathless moan escapes you as you feel his lips circle around your sensitive bud, suctioning around it and lavishing it with his tongue. Your legs shake around his head as he continues, slipping his hand beneath your skirts to join in his efforts.

You can’t stop the cry that escapes you when two of his fingers enter you, bullying your sensitive walls in harmony with his tongue; his perfect tongue, so soft and warm as it presses against your most sensitive part with just the right amount of pressure. 

“Oh god—” there’s nothing to do but hold on, to try and anchor yourself to this world by fisting a handful of his brown curls as you come hard, thighs clenching around his head. 

You feel Billy moan in satisfaction as you come down from your high, before he removes his fingers carefully. He sits up and brings his fingers to his mouth, licking each one clean before moving on top of you, capturing your lips in a sensual kiss. You kiss him back for a moment before pushing his shoulders, urging him to lay on the bed. 

“Let me,” you tell him, eager hands working to free his hard cock from his trousers, “I want to.”

Billy swallows, lips parted as you finally grab hold of him and stroke him, before he nods. You straddle him then, lifting your skirts as you position him against your entrance. You bring your face close to his, lips barely brushing his as you sink down, just enough so the tip of him stretches inside you. 

A soft, ragged moan escapes him, his breath mingling with yours as you sink down further; your eyes flutter shut at the stretch, and you try and savor every inch before he bottoms out completely in your warmth. 

“Christ,” he mutters, strong nose pressing against your cheek. You can feel one of his hands leave your waist and press against your lower back. “You alright darlin?”

Sweet of him to always ask. Your Billy is nothing if not sweet. Your eyes open, meeting his. Strikingly blue, nearly translucent in the low light. A clear brook, how you imagine the sea.

You smile, nodding.

“I’m alright,” you assure, rolling your hips. He’s so deep inside of you, you love having him like this. You’ve never felt so full.

“God you feel good,” Billy praises, “My perfect girl.”

You lift your hips, thighs already burning as you lazily ride him. He lets you set the pace for a few moments, hands just resting on your waist and back. But you feel his fingers twitch after a moment, as if he’s incapable of not being an active participant. 

“Billy,” you moan, head thrown back in ecstasy as his hands snake to your ass.

His fingers dig into the soft flesh as he begins to move you, assisting your rocking motion. He kisses you once before his lips travel down the curve of your neck, leaving kisses in their wake. He finally rests atop your breasts, nipping and sucking the soft mounds.

Pleasure winds a strong current in your lower gut, pressure steadily building as he moves in and out in and out.

“That’s it darlin,” he praises, voice a rough moan, “Just like that, there’s a good girl—“

His mouth returns to yours then after following the column of your throat, lips warm and needy as he kisses you. Your hands tangle in his hair, threading through the soft strands that curl at the base of his neck. Experimentally you tug, earning a groan followed by a soft surprised laugh.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, followed by a swift slap to your left ass cheek, leaving a stinging mark in its wake. 

You answer him with another firm tug, his neck snapping backwards. He growls at that, hands securing themselves to your waist as he flips you back onto the mattress. A surprised gasp escapes your lips, transforming into an elongated moan as he picks up the pace. He slams into you, the sound of flesh smacking against flesh the only sound in the room besides your soft cries.

It’s almost too much, feeling him fucking you like this; so deep, so unhurried, just Billy all over you. It’s consuming, the soft warmth of his skin against yours, the intoxicating smell of smoke and leather that clings to him. 

Billy laces his fingers in yours pressing your hands back against the mattress. You whine, wiggling your hips in frustration as his grip never relents.

“I know,” he coos, his tone dripping with condensation. 

He continues pounding into you, pulling away from your lips momentarily to gaze between you. 

“Look,” he says, and you follow his gaze, watching his slick cock pull out of you, before slamming back in, “Look how fucking perfectly you take me.”

Your lips part, a ragged moan escaping you as you continue to watch his thick cock split you open, each time perfectly grazing your sweet spot.

All too soon you feel the familiar tightening in your gut. 

“Billy—“

“Shhh I know, it’s alright darlin just—shit stop clenching or,” his jaw slacks, eyes squeezing shut as your pussy constructs around him with your building orgasm, “fuck, I won’t last—“

“Come with me,” you beg, “Make me cum, make me cum, yes, yes—“ your pleas transform into a guttural sob as you reach your peak, stars exploding behind your eyes.

He follows soon after, a curse leaving him as his cock twitches within your warm walls. His arms shake as he holds himself over you, and you brush some hair stuck to his forehead. 

“Lay with me,” you tell him, arms looped around his neck and pulling him on top of you.

Billy gives in, the weight of him comforting as he rests on top of you, softening cock still buried inside of you. You stroke his hair as he lays with his head on your chest.

“How long will you be gone?”

“Not long,” he assures, “I’ll be back before nightfall.”

“Do you promise?”

Billy hums in agreement, “I’d never lie to you.”

And you know it's true. But it's not Billy’s word that troubles you. There are a million different reasons he might not make it home. But you don’t let that trouble you now. Instead, you hold him close, breathing him in choosing to believe that there’s no reason in the world he wouldn’t come home to you.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected 🩵

[minswriting]

BILLY THE KID NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare

Billy is okay at aftercare. I don’t think he would go all out such as baths, getting food, etc. However, after sex he would definitely be more smiley and would hold you close to him. He loves cuddling after sex and talking about anything with you.

B = Body Part

His favorite body part on himself are his hands. He works with his hands and loves to give you pleasure with his fingers. His favorite body part on you would truthfully be your hips. He is such a hip grabber and would love to pull you to him by your hips.

C = Cum

I feel like Billy is the type to cum a lot and messily. It literally explodes out of his cock, especially if he hadn’t had relief in a long time. It paints his chest, sometimes even hits himself in the face with his own cum. He loves cumming on your stomach and on your tits because it’s as though he is marking you as his.

D = Dirty Secret

He wants you to try pegging him at some point The idea of you having that sort of control over him never fails to make him hard.

E = Experience

Billy is such a ladies man!! He has a lot of experience and never fails to make his partners cum.

F = Favorite Position

Loves when you’re riding him. Save a horse, ride a cowboy, you feel me?

G = Goofy

Definitely depends on his mood but I think Billy can be silly during sex sometimes. If you’re in an established relationship, he’s more likely to be silly during sex by making cute faces or just telling a joke here and there. However, any other time, he’s serious and is in the moment.

H = Hair

He’s ungroomed and proud of it. He’s a cowboy. Grooming truthfully isn’t important when you’re an outlaw trying not to get arrested. On you, he doesn’t care either. Regardless, he’s going down on you. Lowkey think he really vibes with a bush though.

I = Intimacy

If you’re in an established relationship, he’s very intimate with sex. Especially if he has such strong feelings for you. Intimacy is a necessity for him, it’s like it’s own love language.

J = Jack Off

Truthfully, Billy doesn’t have a lot of time to jerk off so he doesn’t do it often at all. He much prefers to have you to help him with that sort of relief. He does jerk off every once in a blue moon, especially if he is unable to sleep and needs something to help with the stress and you’re not around.

K = Kink

I think Billy is very open to anything. However, i do think he has a small piss kink (more like he’s just open with his body). Billy also has a choking kink. Whether you are choking him or he’s choking you, it’s just so hot.

L = Location

He loves fucking you anywhere he can. In an alleyway, in your bedroom, in the woods. He just wants to fuck you because you’re so pretty.

M = Motivation

You. Anything about you.

N = No

I think he’s huge on no knife play. I think hurting you like that really makes him upset. He’s into a few light hearted things but never something that can give you intentional harm.

O = Oral

HE LOVES GOING DOWN ON YOU! AND HE LOVES WHEN YOU GO DOWN ON HIM. He loves 69 a lot.

P = Pace

Billy can do it really fast and hard or really slow and passionate. It really just depends on his mood and what you both are going for.

Q = Quickie

He loves quickies!! I feel like he prefers to take his time with you, making the experience last. However, he also really loves to just take you any time he has a moment to do so. So quickies are just 🥰🥰

R = Risk

He loves the idea of getting caught. Jessie being in the next room over? Billy is fucking you hard with a hand over your mouth. In an alleyway? He’s pressing you up against the wall. He would always make sure your covered if you do end up actually caught.

S = Stamina

I think Billy either has a lot of stamina or is too tired to do more than one round. He’s an outlaw and spends a lot of time outside. So his energy is divided. However, it all just depends on how he’s feeling.

T = Toys

Assuming it’s a modern universe because I cannot fathom the toys they had back then lol. Billy would love using toys on you. Vibrators, the rose, dildos, he just loves making you cum and making you squirt.

U = Unfair

Billy can be so unfair!! Some days he’s over stimulating and others he’s denying your orgasm. He just wants what’s best for the moment. But his favorite is torturing you by giving you so many orgasms.

V = Volume

I feel like Billy isn’t scared to be loud. He loves moaning and groaning in your ear. But also knows when to be quiet. He can control the sounds that escapes his mouth but he prefers not to because he wants you to know just how good you make him feel.

W = Wild Card

Billy loves fucking your face. Seeing his cock going in and out of your mouth just never fails to make him cum down your throat with your plump lips, the feeling of you gagging on his cock, the watery eyes. So hot.

X = X-Ray

Billy is about 8 inches or so

Y = Yearning

I feel like he’s the type to constantly want sex. He doesn’t always need it but if you want to fuck, he’s always 100% down. His dick will get hard so quick.

Z = ZZZ

Billy definitely falls asleep quickly after sex. It just comes with the territory.

[slutforsnow]

Hey there, I believe Billy would be such a clingy lover, like: holding you tight while fucking, loooooots of tongue-kissing, I DARE SAY EVEN some lover language close to baby talk 🫣

HE WOULD ABSO-FUCKIN'-LUTELY

⚠️MDNI⚠️

When fucking, Billy is holding you so tight that before you start bruising before he starts thrusting 🫡 and if you're wearing his hat say goodbye to your ability to walk for the next 2-3 weeks.

Tomgue-kissing? Don't even get me started cause regular kissing is already knee-weakening, but TONGUE-KISSING??? Oh that is such an ETHEREAL FEELING. He's pulling noises out of you from the depths of your SOUL that he hasn't heard before.

And dirty talk? Oh darlin' he's speakin' like (also apologies, I'm not good at baby talk 🫡🥲)

"Awh, baby, ya doin' so good f'me, c'mon, you take another finger, hm?"

"Oh, don't be a brat, I don't wanna have to spank my pretty baby."

"Baby, if you don't your pretty lil' ass back here, I won't let you finish."

And he's doing while teasing your clit with his thumb, using his free hand to play with your nipple, and making all sorts of love bites.

[sleekervae]

The Bride [0.1]

Masterlist

Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader

Summary: While out riding, Billy is stunned to come upon a young woman in a wedding gown begging for help. Without a second thought he comes to her aid and takes her back to town. Little does he know that rescuing this young bride will bring him more trouble than he bargained for.

Warnings: foul language, mentions of arranged marriage

Word Count: 4,946

The horse's hooves kicked up dust as he traversed the rugged terrain, the only sound breaking the stillness of the evening. Tall grasses swayed gently in the breeze, and the distant call of a lone coyote echoed through the vast expanse.

Billy's gaze swept over the horizon, taking in the breathtaking beauty of the untouched land. The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink, a stark contrast to the deep greens and browns of the earth below.

As boy and horse continued on their journey, the only companion the vastness of the frontier, Billy couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the raw, untamed beauty of the land. The western frontier was a place of mystery and adventure, where danger lurked around every corner, but for now, it was a place of peace and tranquility, a sanctuary in the midst of chaos.

Though perhaps he thought too soon when he caught sight of what at he at first thought was a ghost. But ghosts didn't trip, nor did they cuss between shouts for help. At least, Billy didn't think so. Though the closer he came to the ghost, the more he came to realize there was nothing supernatural about them.

It was a woman, young and fair, her once pristine wedding gown now stained and torn, her face etched with frustration and desperation. She stumbled forward, one hand gripping the layers to her skirt while her other arm frantically waved him down.

"Hey! Hey, can you help me?" despite her appearance, her voice was direct, unshaken.

"What in the hell happened to you?" Billy couldn't help it, the words slipped out before he had a moment to process.

The bride stood before him now and he could have a better look at her. She was slender and small, her figure striking against the backdrop of the tall grass. Her long brown hair, once carefully styled in a bridal updo, now cascaded around her shoulders in a messy tangle, strands framing her face in a wild halo. Despite the disarray, her hair shimmered in the fading light, catching the last rays of the setting sun.

Her wedding gown, once a symbol of joy and celebration, was now stained and torn, the fabric clinging to her form in a way that spoke of hardship and struggle. Despite the wear and tear, the gown still held a sense of elegance, the intricate lace and delicate embroidery standing out against the rugged backdrop of the wilderness.

Her gaze locked with the Billy's, though oddly enough the resilience he saw in her face struck him anew. She didn't appear as a desperate, lost and helpless bride.

"It's a long, fuckin' story," she grumbled, dropping her skirt in a huff, "Where you comin' from?"

"Santa Fe,"

"Mind if I ride back with you?"

Billy took a look around, in the back of his mind he was worried that this girl may be luring him into some sort of trap. But he was out in the open, if someone was going to come out and ambush him, they would've done it by now. And something about the dirt and cuts on this girl told him she wasn't faking it.

"Look, if I had any money to offer, I would --"

"Sure thing," he offered her his hand, to which she took gratefully. She hooked her heeled boot into the stirrup and pulled herself up behind Billy. The horse snuffled and shifted to regain her balance under the added weight, and with a hard crack of the reigns, Billy and the bride clung on as the horse galloped through the tall grass.

Dusk began to close in, casting long shadows across the landscape as they rode back to Santa Fe. The fading light painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, a stark contrast to the deepening shadows that enveloped the land.

The bride remained silent most of the way, making a couple grunts and huffs when they'd hit rougher terrain. Billy was ever the more curious.

"So, what did he do?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" the bride lifted her head.

"Your fella? Your husband or whatever. What did he do for you to ditch 'im at the altar?" he craned his head as best he could, meeting her gaze, "Or did you just get cold feet and bolt?"

The bride scoffed and gave her head a simple shake, "Call me crazy, but I'm not exactly eager to marry a man I barely met a month ago," she replied.

"I think that's pretty justified," he nodded, "So you left 'im?"

"Yes sir," she confirmed.

"Where did you run from?" he asked.

"Rosario,"

Billy paused in disbelief, " -- you... you came all the way from Rosario?"

"You sound surprised," she simpered.

Billy shook his head, "I don't mean to offend, ma'am, but how in the hell did you wander all the way here from Rosario in that fuckin' dress?"

"Simple answer is I had a horse," she replied casually, "Until he got spooked and ran off. But I knew there was a town this way so I was just sort of... praying for refuge. And I'm not even a catholic woman,"

"Well, I'm happy to oblige you," he turned back to her again, "What's your name?"

"... Eleanor," she drawled, "And what about you?"

"William. But friends and family call me Billy,"

Eleanor smirked, "So what would you rather I call you?"

"Whatever you feel like, Miss Eleanor," he grinned back.

"You can drop the 'miss'. Don't feel like much of a lady right now," she sighed.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asked.

"Depends who you ask," she replied simply.

Billy shrugged, "Well, if you ask me -- I reckon you're a very beautiful lady, Eleanor"

Eleanor scoffed back, never the less her smile remained on her lips, "Thank you... Billy," He noticed the slight drawl in her tone, a thread of a southern accent that he found quite charming.

They soon trotted into town. Shops were just closing up for the day, camaraderie and chatter could be heard from within saloons and oil lamps were coming to life as dusk fell. A few stragglers turned and stared peculiarly at the pair, at Eleanor particularly. She knew she had to get changed, she stuck out like a sore thumb in that dress.

"My ma runs a boarding house here, you're more than welcome to stay if you like," Billy told her, "We'll get you fed, into some new clothes,"

Eleanor grinned sheepishly, "That's very kind of you, Billy, but I couldn't. I don't have money on me at the moment," she replied.

"Don't worry about the money right now, my ma will understand," and he turned to her, "We'll just get you back on your feet for the moment," he had such kind eyes, warm and soulful despite their crystalline shade of blue. He equally found her to be quite sweet in spite of her sharp tongue.

"Alright. I appreciate that," she nodded, "Sooner I can get out of this dress, the better I reckon,"

Billy smiled at her, "It's a might shame, it looks stunning on you,"

She stifled a chuckle, "Try not to cry too hard when you see me out of it,"

Billy brought Eleanor to the boarding house, where Kathleen welcomed her with open arms. Kathleen, ever the caretaker, was more than happy to assist the poor girl in her time of need. She offered Eleanor a blouse and a skirt to replace her tattered wedding dress, which was gently tucked away. Eleanor considered the dress; perhaps she could clean it up and sell it, a small act of independence in the midst of her turmoil.

"Have you got any money on you?" Kathleen asked.

Eleanor shook her head, "No ma'am, I'm very sorry," she replied.

Kathleen nodded, shooting a dubious look Billy's way. While she didn't mind helping, she was just making ends meet with her business and couldn't quite afford charity. Billy knew that. But she wasn't totally heartless, either.

"Can you clean?" she then asked.

"And cook," Eleanor volunteered.

Kathleen cracked a smile, "Well, I think we can have you work off your wages for a while,"

"I'd appreciate that very much," Eleanor smiled gratefully.

"Think nothing of it," Kathleen took her by the arm and started for the hall, "I'll show you where you'll be sleeping,"

Billy watched Eleanor vanish into the darkness with Kathleen, a smile playing on his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes. Her fleeting, grateful look lingered in his mind, stirring a mix of emotions. Yet, as he pondered her sudden departure, a nagging inkling tugged at him, whispering doubts about her intentions. Rosario was a half a day's journey at least, and Billy couldn't help but wonder about Eleanor's lack of provisions. How desperate was she to leave, and was her escape merely temporary? Or was there something more nefarious she was running from?

In the early afternoon sun of Santa Fe, the bustling streets came alive with activity, the air filled with the sounds of hooves clattering against the dusty ground and the chatter of locals going about their day. The rickety, wooden buildings that lined the streets cast long shadows, providing a welcome respite from the intense heat. The scent of woodwork and cooking wafted through the streets, mingling with the earthy aroma of the desert.

Billy stepped into the kitchen of the boarding house, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and cornmeal mush filling the air. His eyes immediately sought out Eleanor, who stood at the stove, a look of concentration on her face as she mixed her batter with practiced ease. She looked happy and calm, a far cry from the distressed bride he had found not twenty-four hours ago.

Relief washed over him at the sight of her. Despite his lingering mistrust, he couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in her presence. He approached her cautiously, keeping his guard up.

"Mornin'," he said, his voice soft but cautious.

She turned to him, a warm smile lighting up her face, "Good morning," she then glanced at the stove, "There's coffee made, if you'd like some,"

"Thank you," he went to fetch a cup off of the counter, "How did you sleep?"

"As well as expected, I suppose," she poured her batter into a pot, "Your mother's been awful kind to me, I hope to repay you all in kind soon,"

Billy studied her for a moment, searching for any hint of deception in her eyes. Finding none, he nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"You helping my ma is enough," he assured her, "It's hard to keep help around sometimes, so most days it's me and my brother helping out,"

Eleanor simpered, "I met Joe this morning, sweet kid. Your mother's very lucky to have you both," she said.

"Yeah," he leaned over the counter, the cup still clenched in his hand, "She's a good woman, I do everything I can to look after her,"

She cocked her head, "How old are you, Billy?"

"Seventeen,"

"Seventeen..." Eleanor echoed in awe, her voice soft with understanding, "And already you feel responsible for her, am I right?"

Billy was at first perplexed by her statement, but as he pondered her words, he began to recognize the weight of her insight.

"I suppose so," he replied with a shrug, his expression reflecting a mix of resignation and determination, "My... step-dad... hasn't been pulling in the money lately, so I do what I can to help. I don't want to let her down."

"I don't blame you," Eleanor nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "I wish my mother was like yours."

"What's your mother like?" Billy inquired.

Eleanor sighed deeply, her movements slow and deliberate as she stirred her cornmeal batter, "She was... there when she needed to be," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness, "Most times, though, she wasn't. She died about two years ago,"

Billy felt a pang of empathy. "I'm very sorry to hear that... My father died when I was twelve,"

Eleanor glanced at him, her eyes catching a glimpse of the vulnerability beneath his stoic exterior, "I'm so sorry. What happened to him?"

"He wasn't too well... up here," Billy tapped the side of his head lightly. "What about your mother?"

"Syphilis. Plain awful," Eleanor muttered bitterly. "How was your mother when he died?"

"She was heartsick, we all were. But she's strong, we pushed on because of her," Billy explained. "What about your father?"

"My father... wasn't the same. He never really recovered," she replied, her voice trailing off, "Suppose that's why he stuck me in that dress not a minute after I was eighteen," she added with a bitter laugh, though her eyes betrayed a mix of spite and sorrow.

Billy approached her slowly, "Well, must bring you some peace to get away. You don't have to go back to Rosario," he assured her.

Eleanor's bitter glare melted away, her soft smile slipping across her face again, "It does. And I appreciate all the help and kindness you've given me,"

Billy's gaze softened as he studied Eleanor, a flicker of something new and unexpected stirring within him. He had been wary of her, guarded against the possibility of deception. Yet, as he looked into her deep brown eyes, he saw only sincerity and a genuine desire to move forward.

"I'm glad to hear that, Eleanor. Truly," he said, his voice warm with sincerity. The smile that tugged at his lips was genuine, a reflection of the newfound respect and admiration he felt for her.

Eleanor was a bit rusty with the chores, but she was giving it her all. Billy didn't mind pitching in, whether it was collecting and folding bedsheets, chopping firewood, or even cleaning dishes alongside her.

Their time together was anything but dull. Billy learned a lot about Eleanor; her family was originally from France but came to America over seventy years ago. They lived in South Carolina for a while until the work dried up and they too decided to start over again in the West. It was tough trying to get more information about her family, how she grew up. Billy got the sense she didn't want to talk much about her childhood, so he eventually dropped it altogether.

Eleanor was equally curious about Billy—how he ended up in Santa Fe, his favorite foods, his card-playing skills. She mentioned her desire to learn poker, so Billy took it upon himself to teach her. With an old deck of cards, he patiently explained the game's ins and outs. Though Eleanor struggled with the rules at first, she improved with each hand, even if she did keep losing her peanuts to Billy.

Joe, despite his young age, joined in the card games, offering Eleanor pointers on improving her strategy. Whenever Billy scolded his brother, Joe would playfully stick out his tongue, which never failed to amuse Eleanor. She found herself growing fond of these boys, feeling comfortable and at ease in their company.

Their leisure time eventually gave way to preparing supper for the boarders. While their meal options were limited, Eleanor managed to whip up a simple yet tasty stew. Billy assisted, chopping vegetables carefully to avoid any mishaps. Despite his best efforts, he did slip once, cutting his finger. Eleanor immediately called for Joe to fetch bandages, insisting on wrapping Billy's wound to prevent any blood from getting into the stew.

"Ain't no way in hell you're getting any blood in my stew, Billy Antrim," Eleanor said, her sass bringing out her southern accent, which only added to her charm in Billy's eyes. He found himself increasingly drawn to her, finding her both amusing and captivating.

The day melted into evening, painting the sky in shades of indigo. Bright stars dotted the darkness, casting a serene backdrop for Billy and Eleanor. They sat on the roof outside his window, their conversation flowing effortlessly as if they were old friends. Eleanor felt a deep connection to Billy, as if she had known him forever. His gentle nature and warm charm were like a balm to her soul, familiar and comforting. She couldn't shake the feeling that she must've known him in another life.

"Up there's the Orion's Belt," Billy pointed to a cluster of stars above. Eleanor cocked a brow.

"That don't look like any belt to me," she simpered.

Billy chuckled back, "You can't look at it too critically. It's those three dots up there," he pointed again, "Orion was a great hunter who was eventually placed in the stars by Zeus after his death. And those three stars that make up his belt are called Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka,"

She looked to him, surprised yet intrigued at his knowledge of the cosmos, "How do you know all that?" she asked.

"An old man told me the stories, long ago," he shrugged back, "Stayed with me, I guess,"

Eleanor nodded, her gaze reluctantly leaving his captivating eyes to focus on the sky, "It's kind of romantic, isn't it? When we die, we become stars. Our stories live on forever," she mused.

"Yeah," Billy agreed, casting another glance her way, "It's pretty romantic."

She was sad when she realized the time, knew they both had to be up in the morning to do the day all over again. However, Eleanor couldn't find herself to be lethargic or annoyed. She was excited for what tomorrow would bring, a feeling she hadn't enjoyed in quite some time.

The next day was just like any other. Though this time Billy felt different; he had a little pep in his step. Sure, it wouldn't be noticeable if you didn't know him, or if you weren't paying attention. But Billy felt different, a good type of different. He could've chalked it down to the actual good night's sleep he got, the lack of commotion in the street this morning, or simply him noting how pretty Eleanor looked in the radiant morning sun while she was taking down the laundry.

Billy suddenly felt an arm fly around his shoulders, catching him off guard as he made his way to the saloon. It was his friend Carlos, his face lit up with mischief.

"Aye, Billy!" Carlos exclaimed, his voice merry, "You didn't tell me you were getting married! Felicidades!"

Billy chuckled, shaking his head as he removed Carlos' arm, "The hell are you going on about?" he asked, amused.

"The bride! Everyone's talking about her!" Carlos replied matter-of-factly, "Where did you pick her up?"

Billy sighed, rubbing his temples. "Out in the plains," he explained. "She wandered out from Rosario,"

Carlos stopped in his tracks, a look of bewilderment crossing his face, "You're kiddin'. That's half a day's trek!"

"That's what she told me, anyway," Billy said with a shrug, "I thought she was bait for a gang of rustlers or something, but she seems alright so far,"

"Right…" Carlos nodded slowly, falling back into step with Billy, "And how lucky for you, she's staying in your boarding house?"

Billy stifled a laugh. "Don't go around telling tall tales about me, now,"

"Me? Pfft, never," Carlos retorted, holding his head high.

As they continued down the street, the atmosphere of camaraderie began to fade as the sound of hooves thundered into town. The locals turned to see a group of men on horseback, dressed in infantry uniforms with shiny rifles slung across their backs. They were members of the U.S Army, and their arrival drew a curious and apprehensive gaze from the townspeople.

The town's sheriff stepped forward, hands plastered to his hips as he greeted the captain.

"Gentlemen, can I help you?" the sheriff asked.

"Why, yes you can," the captain drawled, dawning a thicker southern accent, "My boys and I have been riding since yesterday, we're looking for a young woman. She would have been wearing a wedding dress," he raised his hand to his knee, "'Bout five and a half feet tall, pretty brown eyes,"

"I see," the sheriff nodded, "This girl is your daughter?"

"My wife. Or... she was supposed to be," he chuckled bitterly, "Plain up and left me at the altar,"

Billy felt a lump in his throat, disbelief and disdain growing within him. This army captain was probably older then Henry Antrim. He sported a neatly trimmed mustache, reminiscent of those European settlers who often passed through, adding a touch of character to his otherwise disciplined appearance. His attire was completed with polished boots and a well-placed insignia on his cap, signifying his rank and authority.

There was no way, absolutely no way, that Eleanor was meant to marry this man. It was no wonder she had run away.

Carlos didn't need a second glance at Billy to understand his thoughts; he placed a calming hand on his shoulder. Billy stood with clenched fists, his rugged fingernails digging into his palms, his expression unwavering.

The sheriff adjusted his hat, scanning the crowd of locals, "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Captain, but I think I would've noticed a woman in a wedding dress running around in my town," he stated.

Billy started to relax slightly. Perhaps the captain hadn't seen him ride in with Eleanor? Perhaps he hadn't heard the gossip from the townspeople?

But luck was not on Billy's side. An older man approached, wiping sweat from his greying whiskers. "Hold on, Sheriff! I saw the older Antrim kid ride in with a girl in white the other day!" he exclaimed. "All dolled up and everything. She was kinda dirty, though."

"Is that so, Angus?" the sheriff inquired.

"Plum right! Old Taylor saw her too!" Angus affirmed, pointing to another old man on a storefront stoop, who nodded in agreement.

The sheriff gave a thoughtful hum, glancing back at the captain, who maintained a stiff, expectant smile. Turning to face Billy and Carlos under another awning, the sheriff's gaze was piercing, "Where's this girl, Billy?" he asked.

Billy was speechless, struggling to find the right words. He may not have been the best judge of character, but he liked Eleanor. And there was something about this captain that didn't sit right with him, the significant age gap being just one concern.

As Billy tried to form a response, a cry rang out from behind them. "Hey! Thief!" another local shouted, rushing into the street with a pitchfork in hand, "Sheriff! Some girl up and took off with my horse!"

"Which way did she go?"

"Towards the lake!"

In that moment, Billy knew he had to seize the opportunity. He made a quick decision and darted off to retrieve his own horse.

The moment that she heard the thundering horses ride into town, Eleanor knew she had to get out and get out fast. She didn't want to, but she had no other option than take the first horse she saw. She cracked the reigns hard, keeping her head down and focus sharp as she rode away under the blazing sun. She wasn't going back to her settlement, and she certainly wasn't going to be married.

Little did she know she had Billy hot on her trail. It didn't take long for him to catch up to her, spotting her as just a speck in the distance. He pushed his horse as hard as he could, at the same time trying to put together some sort of plan. He didn't want to let the captain have Eleanor, but he also felt she couldn't leave. Not at least without an explanation.

Billy was gaining fast, but not fast enough. On his hip he had his gun holster. He didn't shoot it very often, more often he used it as an intimidation tactic for when the boys at the saloon got a little out of hand. And by no means did he want to shoot Eleanor either, but he needed her to stop, just for a minute. He drew his gun and took aim, popping a shot off of her right. The bullet sliced through the earth and dirt ricocheted across the galloping horse. It stopped and reared up, nearly throwing the frightened Eleanor off its back.

When the horse came down Eleanor turned around, frantic and furious to find Billy was the one who shot at her.

"What the fuck!? Are you fucking crazy!?" she hollered as he approached, "You could've killed me!"

"Why didn't you say something?" he asked, not even caring to acknowledge his stunt.

"And what was I supposed to say, Billy?" she scoffed.

"That the U.S fucking army was going to be coming after you!" he snapped.

"Because you wouldn't have helped me!" she shouted back, "And don't pretend like you would've. Nobody wants to get in the way of the infantry!"

Billy shook his head, "Well, it might've been nice to know! We could've taken off this morning!"

"To where? Where could we go, Billy?" Eleanor asked, "We're barely fucking adults, and your mother needs you!"

"We can figure something out," he said, "Maybe I can talk to the sheriff? Maybe he can get the captain to see reason!"

Eleanor scoffed, "You know what I did in Rosario, Billy? I ran my father's books. When my mother died, and he lost his mind, I ran the whole damn ranch. I kept everything in top condition from the pay to the fucking cow feed!" she snapped, "And how do I get rewarded? With my father selling my dowry to the captain for protection from the Apache! I'm not gonna' watch a whole army decimate a people for no good reason, and I'm certainly not some little woman who's gonna sit around and be a good little wife!" she explained frantically.

"But Eleanor --"

"That man came all the way up here looking for me, he's not gonna' leave until he gets me. And it's safer for everyone in town if I disappear as quickly as I can. I'm sorry if you can't understand!"

Billy huffed, as much as it annoyed him he knew she was right. Having gone with her would paint a large target on both of their backs, and Billy couldn't bare to cause his mother any heartbreak like that. At the same time, he was scared for Eleanor, God only knew what she would face if she went out into the frontier by herself.

"I understand, Eleanor. I do," he nodded, "I just wish I could help you,"

Eleanor pulled her horse up beside his, coming to sit next to him, "You have done so much to help me, already. I'm so grateful to you, and your family. And I will repay you some day," she promised, "Hell, take that ugly old dress to the tailor, you might get something for it,"

Billy gave her a once over glance. She was still in the blouse and skirt Kathleen gave her, a single canteen of water was tied to the saddle. She wouldn't make it out there for long on her own, not with what she had. Without a second thought he shed his linen coat and dug into his pockets for whatever money he had on him.

"Take this," he placed the coat over her shoulders, "And this," and he handed her the money.

"Oh my God, I can't. Billy --" she tried to give the money back.

"Just take it," he assured her, "I don't know when you'll find the next town, but that should get you some food at least,"

Her chest began to ache, he'd shown her more kindness in the last two days than any man had in her lifetime. And she had a feeling he was just too stubborn to let her go without the money and coat. She looked to him reluctantly.

"... Are you absolutely sure?"

"I'm positive," he nodded, "You gotta' go. They're gonna be coming out here looking for the both of us, soon enough,"

Eleanor nodded, slipping the coat on properly and placing the money in the pocket, "Thank you, Billy -- for everything,"

He put on a brave smile, "Think nothing of it, Eleanor,"

She swore his smile was something she'd keep imprinted in her brain, a shred of comfort and happiness on the days where she may not find such. Without a word, she reached up, gently cupped his face, and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was urgent yet tender, filled with gratitude and unspoken emotions. Billy was momentarily taken by surprise but responded instinctively, his hand cupping around her neck as he deepened the kiss, matching her intensity. He could feel the steady beat of her pulsing heart beneath his touch. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves their moment.

When they finally parted, Billy was momentarily taken aback by her actions. He held her gaze for a moment longer, silently conveying everything he couldn't put into words.

She took the reins again, and she gave him one last coy smile, "Try not to look so sad, Billy. I'll see you around," with that, she snapped the reigns and took off South.

Billy was conflicted, on the one hand he figured he could go after her. Go with her, see what kind of adventures they could find... maybe even kiss her again?

On the other hand he knew he couldn't never leave his mother and brother at the hands of Henry. So with a heavy heart, he waited until she was a speck in the distance before he started back for town.

As he approached, the infantry began to ride out. The captain approached him, his posture stiff and upright. "Well? Did you find her?" he asked.

Billy shook his head, masking his disdain, "She had too much of a head start," he replied.

"Dammit!" the captain cursed, scanning the horizon, "Well, which way did she go?"

Billy met his gaze, a steely resolve in his eyes, "North," he told him, "She was heading up North,"

"She's prolly' headin' to Colorado, Capt'n!" one the soldiers piped in.

The captain scoffed, "Well, that's where we're going. Let's move, boys!" and in a hurried stampede, they took off North. Billy let out a small sigh of relief, but the ache in his chest didn't cease. He could only pray to high heaven that Eleanor would be safe, and that maybe he'd see her again one day.

[spideyhexx]

where you're not Billy's (yet) and get jealous <3 mdni

Billy wasn't yours. You knew that. It helped to remind yourself that you weren't his either. You could easily find another mind to keep your company, but you could never get yourself to even try. Instead those nights, you always returned to Billy, also in his lonesome, with no other woman at his side because he would always, already be looking at you.

That's how most nights would go. You would find one another like there was a string attaching you two and you'd fall into your bed, his bed, the grass, the side of a building, honestly anywhere he can get you quick enough.

Part of you always wanted to bite the bullet. Billy's made it clear he would pursue you more than just your late-night rendezvouses but you knew who he was. The type of life he leads and you're reluctant to let that bleed into your life. Fun little relations with him did not carry the weight his love would.

It was unspoken, but Billy respected it, he took what you gave him and that was better than nothing.

So in truth, you should not have had such a visceral reaction to seeing him chat with another woman one night at the saloon. You went there specifically to seek him out, not having seen him the past week made you antsy, but the moment you stepped in, your eyes found him, leaning close to a woman who would lean up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. His smile was easy, his demeanor relaxed, the flirty kind you felt used to.

Jealousy was always a problem for you, but it's never struck you this hard. Never has it hurt like it is as you watch them together.

Against your better judgment, you left immediately, and a restless sleep made you decide to ignore the cowboy.

Billy feels the cold shoulder the very first day. He sees you in the morning just as he rides into town, "Hey, doll, wait up," he says, getting off of his horse and tying it up in a quick manner to catch up to you, but he notices you didn't stop.

He jogs over, a hand to your arm, his big, warm hand to your arm, "Doll, you hearin' good?" He chuckles a little but you don't look amused so he drops it.

"I'm busy, Billy," is all you say to him, even though it pains you to keep your emotions inside, and you walk, quicker, away.

Billy's almost too stunned to speak before he calls after you, "Hey, hey, hey, slow down I just wanted-"

"I said I'm busy," you repeat, your head turning to lock with his gaze. The last thing you catch is his shoulders slumping before you turn forward again.

The entire week Billy tries to talk to you, only to get waved off or completely ignored until he just accepts it and leaves you be. You wonder if it's better to keep him at this distance, this way you didn't fall more for him every night you spent naked with him. But the pain in ignoring him was a devil.

Especially after you hear word that he got injured. Nothing major. He was in some scuffle and all you heard was that he actually got a little beat up from it this time around compared to other times he's fought.

It made you forget your pact to ignore him, knowing how often you were the one who cleaned him up. And Billy didn't seek you out this time. Maybe you fucked up.

You try the saloon, but he's not there. Who is there though, is his friend Charlie. You're barely even thinking through your actions as you walk up to him, "Charlie?"

He turns to face you, with a small smile after realizing it's you, "What's going on?"

"Where's Billy?" You don't beat around the bush with it and you try not to sound so desperate but you're sure you do.

"Uh, I'm actually not sure. Maybe go ask George over there," Charlie nods his head at the other man and you nod, turning your mission elsewhere.

You ask the same question to George, who's also unaware of where Billy is, citing he was back at the camp they've set up a bit away from town, but he's not sure if Billy is currently there.

It feels like a complete lost cause. Maybe even feels stupider that you've asked. Without much else to do and asking around the people you knew to be friends with Billy with no luck, you make your way to a spot Billy and you would typically go to.

In the fields, a small walk from town, where you'd sit under one of the bigger trees and talk. Or fuck. Either or.

A small sliver of hope pokes at your chest that he's there, but he isn't. You let out a sigh and sat down, leaning back against the tree.

You're not sure how much time passes until the sudden sound of footsteps jolts you to your feet. Your eyes lock with Billy, his brow is furrowed, and he's almost storming towards you. It makes your chest ache with relief that he's here. It makes your chest ache with anxiety over his anger. It makes your chest ache with desire because boy was he hot when he was angry.

When he gets closer, you see the cut on his lip and the worry overtakes your emotions. You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, his hand grabbing your jaw. His touch is firm, but not enough to hurt you. Billy tilts your head up, leaving you no room to look away from him.

His words are rushed, "You were lookin' for me? You were lookin' for me, huh?" A scoff leaves his lips after he speaks. His voice is gruff, almost demanding an answer than just curiosity. You swallow your desire.

"Well. Yeah, I was, I heard you got hurt and-"

He moves in closer, close enough that your back leans against the tree and you can smell him. The slight scent of whiskey, campfire and just him was enough to get you dizzy. It's dark, but you can see the tick in his jaw and the intake of breath he gets.

"Here I am," he says, taking his hand off your jaw and gesturing to himself, "What do you want?" There's a snap to his words and you know he's angry about your avoidance of him.

"I was trying to say I heard you got hurt and I wanted to...make sure you were okay," you get your words out slowly, your eyes never leaving his as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Right. So it took me gettin' hurt for you to find me?" There's pain in his tone when he says it and it makes you shake your head.

"Billy-"

"Doll, what did I do? We were fine and then suddenly you were actin' like I fucked up bad. I can't recall anythin' I could've done to deserve that from you," he says, crowding your space till the brim of his hat bumps into your head. Billy seems to get annoyed with it so he haphazardly takes it off dropping it to the ground at your feet.

"I saw you with that...woman or whatever...you...," You take a deep breath to keep yourself in check before you start speaking again, "I went to the saloon to find you and you were all up close with some girl and I just..."

When you let yourself trail off, you glance up at him and see the anger still full in his eyes.

"I wasn't...that was Manuela. Charlie's wife, doll. Can promise you, I am not gettin' sweet with her," Billy says, his brow still furrowed. It made you feel even more embarrassed that you jumped to conclusions, but could you help it? Women flocked to Billy easily. And he wasn't yours, you tell yourself again. He lets out a humorless chuckle.

"I told you I wanted you, you know?"

"I know, but-"

"I know. But I told you. And now you're jealous. You want me too?"

Billy is almost pleading with you to just say it. He knows it. But he's in desperate need of you to finally let it out. You're quiet, your head mulling it over in a frantic manner as he stares right into your soul.

He scoffs, "Darlin' stop thinkin' so hard. 've told you before. All you gotta do is tell me and I am all yours." It feels like you can't speak, your tongue is missing completely from your mouth. Billy's frustration only seems to increase as he rolls his eyes at your silence and his jaw clenches again.

His hands move to your hips, a firm grip, as he lets out a harsh breath, "What do I gotta do? Do I have to fuck it outta you?"

Your cheeks burn at that and he hears the hitch in your breath, "Billy, I-"

"That is it, huh?" He's mocking, finding humor in how heated you get over his words, his thumbs rubbing your hips over your dress. "Been missin' me these days? Got no one to look after you? Just me."

You nod, your head lurching forward enough to brush your nose to his and it almost makes him groan. "You're pissin' me off," he mumbles, like a warning, his lips almost inching to kiss yours, but he restrains himself.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, your breath lingering on him as your hands finally move to touch him, right against his chest. You swallow hard. "Don't know if I've ever felt this much," is what you're able to get out through your laboring breath. Billy takes that as enough, for now, pressing his lips hard to yours.

It's a bruising kiss. His lip was cut and he was fighting a wince, but he did not give a fuck about the pain right now. Billy was starved without you and all he can think about is taking. He pushes you back until you're more against the tree, the bark uncomfortable but that's the least of your worries. His hands pull at your hips to bring your body flush with his, slotting his leg between yours.

His one hand moves to cradle your face, mumbling to your lips, "still pissed off," and he licks his tongue along your bottom lip, nudging under your chin to tilt your head up more.

"Good," you mutter back to him before happily opening your mouth to him, tugging on the handkerchief at his neck to pull him as close as he can be.

He hums at your words, "Oh? You like me mad or somethin' doll?" Billy's hand at your hip holds you tighter, "is that why you're doin' this to me?"

You don't answer, your lips trailing along his jaw and to his neck. Your hand grasps the back of his head, pulling his head back a little to expose more of his neck, enough to find his spot that you found. That he didn't even know about until he slept with you.

As you suck at the spot, biting the skin enough to leave the start of a mark, Billy refrains from moaning, but you hear him mumble, "fuck's sake," before he's pulling back from you and taking his belt off.

"Ground?" He takes his belt off so easily it distracts you, but you nod.

"Ground," you reply, moving yourself to the grass. Billy doesn't waste a second, taking his jacket off and laying it out so you can sit on it.

He nudges you to lay back and gets on you so quick, it makes your breath run fast. "Billy," your voice is breathy, his head burying into your neck, leaving surprisingly soft kisses as he fumbles to push his pants down.

You help the best you can, then swat his hand away to fish his cock from his underwear yourself. Billy lets out a low groan when he feels your hand wrap around him. You hum, stroking the length of him once, then twice before taking him out.

"Tell me you missed this or I think I'll actually go crazy, doll," he mutters, his kisses finding your jaw.

"Now I wanna see you go crazy," you joke under your breath, but Billy isn't having any of that.

"Fuckin'...fine. That's what you want?" His hands are under your dress in an instant, and find your undergarments, the thin linen being harshly ripped from your body.

"Billy! Did you actually rip them, I-"

"Darlin' please be fuckin' quiet," he rasps, and you pull hard on his hair in his response. He laughs.

"Missed you. Pissed at you. But still want you just as fuckin' much," he whispers, giving your cheek a kiss as he hikes your legs up around him, his hips slotting to yours.

Billy's hand finds himself, guiding his dick to rub at your clit, both of you letting out shaky sighs at the feeling. His nose smushes to your cheek, eyes stuck on you to watch you react to him.

"Oh, honey," he whispers as his tip rubs through your folds, feeling just how slick you are. The head of his cock catches at your entrance and you both moan in unison again. Billy slowly pushes the tip into you, groaning over it and helping you wrap your legs tighter to him.

"There you go. Still take it good, hm?" He doesn't let you even try to answer him as he thrusts the rest of himself into you, his knees shifting in the grass to adjust his position. Billy grips your hips hard, thumbs pressing to the underside of your thighs as he begins fuck himself into you.

A moan rattles through you, your head pushing back against the ground at his immediate quick pace. You grasp at his shoulder, your other hand tangling into his hair so you can pull it whenever he fucking quips at you.

Billy grunts, his head down and teeth nipping at your jaw, "You actually listened to me. Actually stayin' quiet besides those pretty moans. Not even talkin' back," he chuckles at it and then again when you tug his hair like he thought you would.

"'M sorry," he murmurs, leaving an affectionate kiss on your jaw. For a moment, Billy buries his cock as deep as it can be inside of you, holding still to feel you tighten around him. "That's it...you missed that?"

You nod, your words not coming, but he grips your jaw, "you can speak," he says, his hips snapping to yours, just as desperate as his kisses were before.

"I did miss it, Billy....so, so, so much."

That spurs him on as he opens your mouth with a push of his fingers at your cheeks, your eyes dazed and tongue sticking out a little like routine. Billy slows his thrusts as he spits down onto your tongue.

Before you can close your mouth, his lips and tongue are finding yours, a strangled moan leaving him and melting back into you. Billy's one hand still at your hip moves under you to wrap around, giving your body a slight angle as he fucks harder, his rhythm starting to break.

His kiss is sloppy, as is yours back, tongues a mess of massaging to one another, his teeth biting to your lip, noises tumbling from you both. He breaks the kiss to nuzzle his nose to your cheek, "please tell me you didn't fuck someone else while you were angry at me," he suddenly says, his eyes closed like he's anticipating the worse.

"I didn't," you whisper back to him, "I promise you," you assure him again, your hand rubbing through his hair.

"I didn't touch anyone," he tells you, "nothing," he pauses, giving your cheek the lightest kiss as he changes his movements, slowing down, sliding his cock out of you slowly, but pushing back in hard, his hand moving from your jaw to slip between your legs and thumb at your clit, "Just tell me."

A whimper leaves your lips when you feel his thumb, your hips bucking up, which only makes him want to fuck you faster again, but he holds back. You know what he means the moment he says to tell him and you turn your head head to nose back at him.

"I want you," you breathe out and you feel him let out a breath, his lips tenderly kissing your nose.

"Can I be yours then?" He slows even more, which makes you whine. Your eyes lock to his, his face strewn with hope and deep desire, you can feel the twitch of his cock and see the flutter of his eyes.

"Yes," you whisper to him, giving him a small smile as you ruffle your handing his hair, "then I'm yours?"

He groans at your answer and question, and his hips rock faster again, needy and full of so much want, "yes, doll, you're mine," he rasps out, "and you're gonna come just for me, yeah? I know you will, Bet you wanted me to come for you all week, I'll give you it," he gets out his words quick, your fingers digging into his hair and his shoulder.

"Billy....fuck...f-faster."

He chuckles, "Jesus, doll," he gives you a crooked smile, but obliges, rubbing your clit in tight fast circles as he ruts into you, his forehead pressing to yours.

A heat overcomes you as your orgasm washes over you, Billy smiling as he watches it overtake you. The way your mouth parts and your moan borderlines a whine, the arch of your hips to his, and the spasm of your cunt against him.

He fucks into you maybe three more times before he's pulling out of you, letting out an almost guttural moan, spilling on your thigh, the slight friction of the tip against your thigh is enough to get him hard all over again, but Billy pushes those thoughts aside to move his hands back to your face and kiss you passionately through your heavy breaths.

"Still a little pissed," he mumbles and you nudge your knee into his.

"Ow," he grins into the kiss, a bigger flush coming to his face when you start laughing.

[luvfae]

GOOD GIRLS DONT

STAY OUT LATE

summary: after wanting him for months, you finally make your move on billy.

fandom: billy the kid

parings: billy x f reader

warnings: smut, hair pulling, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it), foul language, oral (billy receiving), sex in public

You had been watching him all night—the way he charmed the other girls, the glint in his eyes as he held their gazes, the casual way he touched them. Billy had been your friend since he rode into your small town months ago, but despite his conquests with every woman around, he had never crossed that line with you.

Tonight, fueled by a bit of liquid courage, you were determined to change that.

Observing girls' tactics over the years had given you insight, and now, emboldened by alcohol, you were ready to act. You sauntered over to Billy at the poker table, your hand landing on his shoulder, making him spin around with surprise before relaxing at the sight of you.

"Hey, Darlin'," Billy greeted, returning his attention to the game. "Little late for a young lady to still be out, isn’t it?"

"I’m not a child," you retorted, a hint of frustration in your voice. Perhaps Billy saw you as too innocent, too young. But you were no child.

"No, but you are a good girl," Billy replied. "Good girls don’t stay out late."

You rolled your eyes, feeling the challenge rise within you. "Good girl," you scoffed, meeting his gaze with determination. "Would a good girl do this?" With a mischievous smile, you whispered in his ear, then playfully snatched his cowboy hat and placed it on your head.

The poker table fell silent, eyes shifting between you and Billy, a few whistles echoing through the room.

"What's the rule?" you teased, tapping your chin thoughtfully. "Wear the hat, ride the cowboy?" The words sparked a dark look in Billy's eyes, and he abruptly excused himself from the game, leading you into a secluded hallway of the saloon.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?" Billy asked, concern in his voice as he gripped your wrist. You stepped closer, hands trailing up his chest, meeting his gaze boldly. "I can’t give a girl like you what she wants," Billy said with a sigh.

"And what is it that I want, hmm?" you countered, your tone teasing.

"Love. You want someone to love you, to make love to you," Billy confessed. "I can’t do that for you, Y/N."

"I don’t want you to love me," you retorted, your voice laced with frustration. "I want you to fuck me, Billy. Treat me you would any other girl in this damn town."

Billy's expression tightened. "You deserve better than that, Y/N," he insisted.

You closed the gap between you, rising onto your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "I said I want you to treat me like one of those other whores you take to bed." Your fingers deftly undid the buttons of his shirt, your touch deliberate and bold. "I want you to choke me, pull my hair, make me cum all over your cock. Think you can handle that, Billy?"

Billy's breath hitched at your words, his resolve wavering as desire flared between you

“I can’t, Y/N,” Billy protested weakly, though his voice wavered.

You pressed closer, your hands now tracing the contours of his chest beneath his shirt. “Can’t or won’t?” you challenged softly, your voice dripping with seduction.

A mix of desire and guilt played across Billy’s features. “You deserve more than just a quick fling, Y/N,” he admitted, his gaze searching yours.

You smiled knowingly, your fingers still teasingly toying with the buttons of his shirt. “Maybe this is exactly what I want, Billy,” you murmured, your breath warm against his neck.

Billy’s resolve crumbled as he met your gaze, sensing the raw longing in your eyes. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled you close, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. His hands found your waist, pulling you tightly against him, the heat between you igniting a fierce passion.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, you surrendered to each other, the hallway providing a hidden sanctuary for your desires. Clothing was shed hastily, exposing skin to skin, the air thick with anticipation.

Billy hiked your leg up, forcing his cock deep inside of your needy pussy and you moaned. His hand fisted into your hair, tugging hard on your locks.

"I've fantasized about this moment for months, Y/N," Billy confessed, his voice tinged with a hunger you'd never seen in him before. "I've fucked other girls, pretending they were you. But now that I've had the real thing, how can I ever go back to them?"

Billy was sending waves of pleasure through you, his cock reaching the deepest, most sensitive parts of your being. You couldn't contain the shameless whimpers and moans that escaped your lips.

"Don't go back to them," you murmured, your mind intoxicated by desire. How could you let this slip away now that you've experienced it? "I could be your whore, your willing plaything," you offered, breathlessly.

Billy groaned in response to your words, driving himself deeper and harder inside you, yearning to feel you cum around him. He craved to witness you lose control, to see you drenched in pleasure. His desire was raw, intense—he wanted to force you clean up the mess you made on his cock with your tongue, a potent cocktail of passion and lust.

"Give it to me, Billy, I can handle it!" you gasped, as he moved with such intensity that the world around you blurred into a swirl of sensation. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed through the room, your release teetering on the edge. "I'm almost there, please, don't stop," you pleaded, caught in the whirlwind of nearing ecstasy.

Billy responded, his deep, rhythmic movements inside you pushing you over the edge. Your release washed over you, intense and all-consuming, as you came undone against the wall, your cunt pulsating around him in a crescendo of pleasure.

"Get on your knees," Billy commanded, a tone in his voice you couldn't resist. You complied instantly, opening your mouth in anticipation. "Good girl," he praised, as he guided himself to you. "Taste yourself, taste how good I made you feel," he whispered.

Your eager mouth worked him fervently, desperate to milk him until he was dry, drawing him closer to his peak with every motion. As his climax neared, he moved with a purpose, until sensitivity overwhelmed him and his hot cum was on your tongue. You savoured the taste.

“You've surprised me, Darlin’," Billy admitted, catching his breath. A proud smirk played on your lips as you rose, your needy cunt dripping with desire again.

© luvfae 2024

[eymie]

Hello! Can you write a Billy the Kid x fem reader smut where they're friends but she works at the brothel or something. He hates the fact that she works there and one night when she's moaning about how none of the guys know what they're doing, billy shows her that he knows exactly what he's doing? Maybe some cocky billy?

BETTER THAN THEM !

warning: smut, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap it), grinding, choking (kinda but not really), prob more but im tired

You’d known Billy for a few years now, meeting as young teenagers. He had a few friends but you were his closest. His free time was spent with you, he watched other men fall at your feet. Begging for just an ounce more of your attention.

He hated when you got a job at the brothel in town, he could've found you a job or his mother could've. You had heard from a few girls in town that it's the easiest way to make quick money and you had jumped at the chance. Your family wasn't well off and you knew you needed this.

He heard men in the saloons talking about you. The wat you writhed under them, whining their names. He knew it was so you'd get a tip but he couldn't help but feel his body tense up. A few of those men leaving with bloody nose and black eye.

Billy couldn't escape the echoes of saloon gossip about your actions at the brothel. The visceral reactions of those men stirred conflicting emotions in him – a mix of discomfort, protectiveness, and an unsettling tension. His response, defending your honor with fists, became a silent testament to the depth of his feelings for you.

He knew he could please you better than any of those grimy men paying for your attention. He had your attention for free. Now here you were sitting in his room complaining to him about these men.

"Billy, they don't even feel good." You groaned, shoving your face into your hands. "At least the money is."

Billy's hands clenched into a fist as he tried to process your words. His voice barely above a whisper, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"None of them have ever made me... you know." You admitted, looking down at your hands. You fidgeted with your hands, looking back up into his pale blue eyes.

His eyes bore into yours.

You continued, pacing around your room frustrated. "They're all so sloppy, and aggressive."

He swallowed hard, taking a step closer to you. "I can make you cum." His voice was low and husky, filled with desire and determination.

"What?" You asked, furrowing your brows in confusion.

Billy held your gaze, his eyes burning with passion and conviction. "I can make you feeling things that none of them ever will."

"But Billy--"

"I'm the only one who knows how to touch you just right." His heart was racing as he took another step closer, their bodies almost touching now.

"Billy." You tried again, barely knowing what to say.

"I promise you won't regret it," he whispered, reaching out to brush his fingers against your cheek. The touch was gentle but electric, sending shivers down his spine.

"We're friends." Best of friends, you didn't want to ruin it one bit. You didn't want to break the bond of the closest friend you've ever had, as bad as you needed him.

"We can be so much more than that," Billy replied, his voice barely above a whisper. His heart pounded in his chest as he leaned in closer still, his lips mere inches from yours now. "Tell me you don't think about me."

"Wait." Your hands pressed against his chest but you didn't push him any further away. Your fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt, almost pulling him in with intense urge.

Billy took a deep breath, his eyes locked onto yours. He could feel the heat rising between them as they stood there in silence. Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer; he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips firmly against yours.

You lips moved against his, tongues sliding against each other. You ignored any other concern invading your thoughts as you pulled him closer. His hands slid under your dress, nothing underneath.

"I didn't--"

He ignores you, hands finding the flesh of your ass. His hands groping at your ass, squeezing your flesh. You lips part against his, letting out a soft gasp. His hands so close to your shamefully wet folds.

"What pleases you?" His voice was a low whisper against your ear, wetness pooling in your undergarments. Your breath hitched as your mind raced trying to think of an honest answer.

You took a breath, then asked him. "What do you mean?"

"What makes you feel good, pleasures you." His lips brushed against your ear, hot breath fanning against your flushed skin. His hands traveled to your wetness, brushing his finger tips along it.

You hid your face in his neck, squinting your eyes shut as his fingers spread your folds apart, wetness coating his long fingers. Your chest heaved, your body begging to be released from it's clothed restraints.

"I-I don't know..." You stuttered, your was voice low and barely audible. You didn't know what pleased you, what you needed to feel good. His lips pressed against your neck, teeth grazing skin.

His words were hot against your skin, "How do they fuck you?”

In the intense moment, your astonishment mirrored in widened eyes as you gazed at him, his expression remaining stoic, a genuine sincerity cutting through the bluntness of his words. You slowly began to utter, “Billy I-“

He pulls his hand from underneath your skirt, pushing his long fingers into your mouth allowing you to taste yourself. Your tongue pressed along his fingers, your taste invading your taste buds.

HIs inquiry hung in the air, “It doesn’t matter, does it?” Yet, his fingers in your mouth rendered you speechless, creating a moment where words were stifled, leaving the question unanswered.

He withdrew his fingers from your mouth, unveiling a momentary pause that echoed.

His hands travelled to your corset. His fingers deftly worked at the laces of your corset, each gentle movement unveiling a layer of intimacy and revealing a vulnerability that seemed to heighten the intensity of your tension.

Your dress fell to the floor along with the rest of your clothing, undergarments including. His gaze bore into yours, cold air causing goosebumps to your skin, worse under his touch. You closed yours eyes as his hand slid back down between your thighs.

He slowly pushed you down against the bed, hands spreading your thighs. He ran his thumb down your slick folds, collecting your wetness on the tip of his fingers. A sharp breath coming from your parted lips as his rough thumb pressed into your sensitive clit.

"Do they touch you this way?" He asked, pressing your clit harder under his thumb. You shook your head, knowing they just paid to fuck you and not foreplay.

A sense of confidence surging through him, he couldn't help it knowing he was the one making you feel this way. Knowing not another man could make you feel like this one just his fingers.

His finger pressed past your folds, pushing through your gushing entrance. Your hips rose off the bed to meet his hand as he slipped a second finger inside you.

"Moaning on just my hand?" He teased, thrusting his fingers back inside you. You wetness coating his thick long fingers. Your mind raced, never feeling like this by just a mans hand before.

Soft moans leaving your part lips, thighs clenching around his hand. His fingers curled inside you, pressing into your g-spot. You let out a gasp, bucking your hips. His hands were relentless, thrusting his fingers back inside you faster than before driving you towards your orgasm. The wire inside you had tightened, begging to snap.

"Billy-- I'm gonna--" You whined, your hand grabbing his wrist in attempt to stop him. His free hand and pried yours away, pinning it to the bed beside you. Your fingers twisted in the sheets as his hands fucked you closer to your orgasm.

"Do it, cum on my fingers." He encouraged, continuing his thrusts until you writhed under his hands, crying out his name. He kissed along your neck, trailing down to your collarbone leaving purple blemishes. "I bet they don't have you whining like this, crying out my name like it's not just my hand."

His thumb continuously rubbed your clit, fingers curling inside of you. His fingers fuck you through your orgasm, your body sensitive with overstimulation. He felt a sense of satisfaction knowing he could brink you over the edge with just his fingers. He couldn't just stop there.

His fingers were relentless, the way they continuously thrust into you. Moans slipping from your lips, begging for him to slow down just for a second. Your whines falling to deaf ears. His teeth grazed your erect nipples, slowly running his tongue around them.

"Billy, oh--" You hips lift off the bed, his fingers thrusting inside you in attempt to draw out another orgasm. His hands pressed against the fat of your breasts, groping them as he sucks your nipples into his mouth. "Gonna--"

His other hand helps you arch your back off the bed, hips grinding into his hand as you juices coat his fingers. Your jaw going slack as he takes you through yet another orgasm, slowly pulling his fingers from your slick.

"None of those men could make you cum?" He asks again, spreading your thighs apart. You shake your head in response, leaning back on your elbows. You watch as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, groaning at your taste in response.

"Not one of them, Billy." He pulls his fingers from his mouth, wiping his saliva off on his pants. Your legs clench shut watch his fingers slowly unbutton his pants, sliding down his zipper.

"What a shame."

Your lips part as you watch him pull down his pants, an evident bulge in his underwear. Your felt your cunt clench around nothing, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt revealing his chest.

His strong hands turned you over onto your stomach, helping you up onto your hands and knees. His hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His bulge pressed into your wet cunt, hips slowly grinding into your cunt.

"Do you want it?" He asked, thumbs rubbing at your flesh. Your slick soaked through his thin fabric, bulge pressing harder into your wet cunt.

You nod, pushing your hips back to try and get more friction. You whine at the way his bulge presses harder against you, fabric rubbing against your sensitive nub.

“Say it.”

“Yes, I want it.” You begged, overstimulated and out of breath. Your hands clench into the sheets wishing he'd just fuck you.

”Will you quit?” His voice was stern, yet you knew he had no sense of anger. He was needy, he needed you and needed to prove himself. He needed to convince you that he was more than anyone else, more than any amount of money.

“What?” You asked, voice cracking. You turned your head back trying to catch a sight of him. He leaned back, hands still holding your hips against him.

“If I can prove I’m better, then you quit.”

“But—“

He was quick to cut you off, “You don’t need that money, let me show you.”

You close your eyes, the sound of his hands pulling down his undergarments filling the silent room. Your fingers grip the sheets, preparing yourself for the stretch.

The tip of his cock pressed into her cunt, swearing her slick around. He slides his cock down to press against your clit making you jolt.

“Don’t tease—“

He cuts you off by pushing his tip past your folds. A moan leaving your lips, whining at the way his cock stretched you open. His large hands pulled your hips back as he slides himself inside you.

“Shh, taking me so well.” He praised, cock breaching as far as it can inside you. He watched as your pussy is spread wide, embracing his cock.

Small whimpers fell from your lips as he pulls back, thrusting back in. He promised himself he’d start off slow, he couldn’t.

“Billy—“ You whined, his thrusts were relentless. Constantly thrusting back in faster than before, unable to hold back your loud moans.

As much as he wanted to hear your noises, the walls were thin and you were loud. His large hand clasped over your mouth muffling your moans.

Your eyes rolled back, moaning into his hand as he brushed your cervix. His free hand slid to pinch your nipples and fondle your breasts. Your cunt stretched wide, insides bullied by his thrusts.

You cried his name but it was silenced by his hand. Your legs shook, holding up your weight as you were overtook by pleasure. His fingers slid from your breast to your clit, overstimulated and sensitive.

His finger pressed into your clit, eyes rolling back in return. Your walls closed around his length, a groan escaping his lips. The wire inside you once again tightening signaling your soon to come orgasm. Your arms giving out under you, your chest and face pressed into the cheap sheets.

His hand released your mouth, silent moans now all that came from it. His hand pressed down on your back, pulling your ass up into the air.

“That’s it, cum for me.” He felt the way your cunt clenched around, drool smearing into your pillow case. The loud sound of clapping skin filling the room, along with muffled moans and Billy’s held back groans.

One harsh thrust sending you into your impending orgasm. Mouth falling wide open as your cum coated his thick cock. His hands pulled your hips further onto his cock, hips grinding into yours as he pushes you through your orgasm.

“Billy— too much!” You whined, pushing your hand behind you against his abs trying to push him back. He grabbed your wrist, holding it tight before thrusting in quicker than before.

“No, not enough.” He argued, letting go of your wrist that fell back beside you without any fight.

He was holding back his own impending orgasm, hoping to fuck you into another one. His hand wraps around your neck, not too tightly but just enough force to pull you back. He pushed his face into his neck, teeth grazing your skin.

"Better?" He asked with a sense of cockiness in his tone. His tongue pressing over your deep purple marks decorating your skin. The way he thrusted into your made your head spin, his finger rubbing your sensitive clit making it worse.

"What--" You moaned, he was quick to cut you off again.

"Am I better?" Billy asked again, this time his tone more annoyed, annunciating his words. You knew what he meant, better than the other men at the brothel.

"Yes," You assured, placing your hand over his own that decorated your neck. Your nails pressed into his hands, scratching his skin as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

"All of them?"

Your cunt squeezed him, his breathing got heavier as he neared his own high. The way your soft warm walls fluttered around his length, spasming as it neared your orgasm.

"Yes, all of them"

Your fourth orgasm ripped through you, your cunt clenching him like a vice. His name falling off your tongue, loudly being moaned into the room.

Your words came out in a jumble of words, stuttering mess. "Billy... please-- inside!"

His brows furrowed, already too late before he understood your begging pleas. He pulled his cock from your tight entrance, seed spilling from his red tip coating your plush skins. Your cunt was raw and used, clenching around nothing.

"Sorry," He mumbled, out of breath. He grabbed a nearby rag, wiping down your skin from his hot seed. Your body collapsed onto the bed, out of breath and tired.

"Billy?" You asked, turning onto your back. Your chest heaved, soft breaths leaving your parted lips. You felt his weight beside you on the bed, the mattress sinking down next to you.

"Yes?"

"I'll quit."

[kisses4kaia]

brothers best friend billy bc i am self-indulgent ☺️ very poorly proofread😴 edit; here’s another installment of this au <3

william h. bonney is a gentleman.

he is a gentleman, but fuck, if you whisper another word into his ear, warm breath fanning over the cusp, he’s not above bending you over the poker table and fucking you in front of everyone, including your brother.

and billy knows, he knows you’re trying to rile him up, knows you’re just trying to get a ride rise out of him, but did you really have to hit him where it hurts? you’d learnt not too long ago that billy is quite sensitive on his ears—when you nibbed him on his earlobe while he was balls deep inside your tight cunt and he came on the spot—and if you didn’t take advantage of that from time to time, you reasoned, it would be an injustice, truly.

“oh billy, don’t you know fucking your best friends little sister is wrong? how long has this been going on—2 months, huh? hmm, you ever gonna tell jesse? oh, no. he would kill you if he found out, wouldn’t he? and you’re still taking that risk for me; how romantic of you, billy,” your voice is a tantalizing taunt, and it’s winding him up, so much so that he has to take a swig of his whiskey to cover up the flush spreading on his cheeks.

your whispers are received from billy with a shudder, whom you’re standing behind while he sits at the poker table. nobody really even notices you talking to him, not even jesse. he’s focused on winning, as is billy, but you just make it so much damn harder for your lover.

the game is on its last play and it’s gotten quite intense. “reveal your hands,” the dealer commands and jesse lays down his cards before billy shows him up completely, 4 aces over jesse’s straight.

the sportsmanship is friendly even after billy gathers the whole pot for himself and jesse goes to catch a drink at the bar, giving billy the perfect opportunity to figure out what the fuck your little show was about.

his large hand is wrapped around your—by comparison, small—wrist, and he’s dragging you outside the saloon, all the way to his house just down the block.

when the door slams shut, billy’s lips are on yours faster than you can blink.

he has this way about his kisses—they’re always needy, but not all-dominating. he doesn’t want to own you, you can see it is his eyes, the eyes that are so much softer than lil the other men you’ve come across, who look at you like a piece of meat. he kisses you with a certain passion, a fire that you haven’t been able to find with anybody else, and it ignites something bubbly inside you. he’s feverish, and you reciprocate his urgency, fingers hooking into his two front belt loops, pulling him closer to where you need him the most.

“fuck, pretty. really tryna rile me up, huh? fuck was that, back at the game?” his lust-blown pupils do nothing to hide the fact that you won. you got just what you wanted, so with a giggle you respond, voice teasing. “i just wanted to see how gentlemanly you could stay before you would eventually break—i knew you would break,”

billy scoffs and rolls his eyes, before placing his lips on yours, more gently this time, and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying you to his bedroom that you’ve grown oh, so, familiar with.

he surprises you when rather than laying you down on your back unto the bed, he sits down himself, begins unbuttoning your linen button-down and unbuttoning the boot-cut denim jeans that hugged your ass so fucking well, before pulling all of it off of your limbs and helping you pull his own trousers down.

with gentle maneuvering, billy eases you onto his hard, awaiting cock. a soft gasp leaves you, and a deep groan from billy reverberates throughout the room. “this is what you wanted? to sit on my dick, make your pretty, little pussy cum? yeah? go on, use me. ride my cock, hm? you own it, it’s yours,” his breathy words only speed up your pulsing around his dick, and pull a aroused moan from your throat.

he sounded so honest, so real. it was times like these, with him underneath you, coming more and more undone by the second, that felt the most raw. it was times like these, when his hands where welded onto your hips, surely leaving bruises, that you realized, you didn’t want this with anybody else, ever. you never wanted to leave his loving embrace, and it’s with that epiphany you speak.

“fuck, billy, i love you. i love you so fucking much, oh my god, fuck!”

his hips falter slightly at the sentence, but almost like a serendipitous parallel, billy cums with a loud moan right along with you, orgasms perfectly in time with one another.

and as he comes down from his high, riding you through your own, his response to your confession is uttered—in hushed tones, in fear that if he dare raises his voice, dare speak freely, dare open his arms, you may disappear, like sand through his calloused fingers.

“i love you, too, angel. i think… i think want forever with you.”

[chevyslate158]

(Billy The Kid) Gladiator AU 18+: Double-Edged Sword

A/n: Hey there! I hope you enjoy this short story 💖 I had to quickly write it down before the idea left me haha. Sometimes the best ideas hit you when you least expect them, right? 😅

I’ve created this AU where Billy the Kid is a gladiator, and it’s honestly been such a fun and emotional ride to write. Let’s just pretend that William/Billy was around in ancient Rome for this AU 😜. If you like it, let me know, cause I've definitely got a few more ideas up my sleeve!

That being said, I want to give a little warning—this story definitely dives into the angst. It was such a tearjerker to write, and I hope it brings you the same heartache (in the best way, of course 😭). It’s an emotional one but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!! 💖

I truly hope this little adventure sparks some emotion and some excitement for what is to come for this future AU. Please drop a comment if you want more from this world! 😏🔥 And as always, requests are always open! 😄👀 Word Count: 6.4k Warnings: Roman Empire AU, violence, major character death (Not reader) weapons, light smut, blood, gore, emotional distress, loss of a loved one, grief, angst and dark themes.

The early morning sun filtered softly through the curtains of their modest Roman home, casting a warm, golden glow over the couple tangled in the sheets. The soft light seemed to paint the room with an ethereal quality, wrapping around them in a cocoon of quiet warmth. William hovered above Y/n, his breath warm against her neck, sending waves of warmth through her skin as he pressed gentle kisses along the curve of her collarbone. His movements were slow and deliberate, hips rolling with hers in a rhythm that was both tender and passionate, a silent dance that spoke volumes of their unspoken bond.

Her fingers, delicate yet sure, trailed through his dark, unruly locks, tangling in the small curls at the nape of his neck. She tugged lightly, pulling him closer, craving the feel of him, the warmth of his body pressed against hers. With a soft, deep sigh, his lips found hers in a slow, searing kiss, deepening as the moments stretched into eternity. The world outside seemed to fade away, the room echoing only with the soft sounds of their breath, their whispered words, and the faint creak of the bed beneath them. It was a sacred silence, an intimate haven they had carved out for themselves in the quiet hours of dawn.

"I love you," she mumbled breathlessly, her voice barely a whisper, a secret shared only between the two of them. She gently nudged her nose against his, the warmth of his skin igniting a shiver that cascaded down her spine. 

Her eyes fluttered closed as she savoured the feeling—the closeness, the love that seemed to pulse between them. In that fleeting touch, there was more than words could ever express, more than she could have ever hoped for. It was as if everything in her soul aligned with the gentleness of his presence, a silent promise that only the two of them could understand.

William paused, his lips hovering above hers, his breath mingling with hers as he kissed her forehead with a tenderness that made her heart swell. Then, his lips returned to hers, capturing them in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and filled with an aching depth. He poured all of his love, his devotion, into the kiss, his hands roaming gently over her curves, caressing her soft skin as if she were something sacred. His touch was reverent, guiding her hips with his, moving in perfect harmony as if their bodies were telling a story of love and longing that transcended time and space.

"And I love you, my sweet Y/n," he whispered against her lips, his voice low, laced with reverence and passion. His blue eyes—those eyes, like twin oceans—gazed down at her with a softness that left her breathless. There was a depth to his gaze that seemed endless as if they held the secrets of the universe, and yet, at that moment, they only held her. She felt herself drowning in those eyes, overwhelmed by the tenderness, the adoration he had for her. "Always and forever." His words, simple yet profound, filled the room with an unspoken promise that would bind them together for as long as time would allow.

Afterward, William collapsed beside me, pulling me into his arms with a tender urgency, as if we both needed this moment of closeness to breathe again. Our breaths came in shallow bursts, trying to catch up to each other, to find a rhythm that matched the pounding of our hearts. As the quiet settled between us, he tugged me even closer, the warmth of his body enveloping mine. His lips, gentle and soft, began to scatter light kisses across my face—across my forehead, the tip of my nose, each one a sweet caress, a promise. With each kiss, his voice murmured in my ear, thick with emotion, attempting to fight off the fear that I could feel creeping up in my chest. He knew the storm that raged in my mind, knew the worry that I could never quite silence when he was about to face battle.

“I’ll be fine tomorrow,” he whispered, his breath warm against my temple, a soft but firm promise. “You know I always make it back to you. Every time, my love.”

I could feel my heart aching in the quiet of the room, a wave of unshed tears burning behind my eyes. I clutched him tightly, my fingers digging into the fabric of his tunic, as if I could anchor him here, prevent him from slipping away. “You promise?” I whispered, my voice barely audible, shaky with the weight of my fear. I hated the vulnerability in my voice, but I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop wanting to believe, needing to believe that he would come back to me, that he would always come back to me.

William cupped my face, his large hands gentle but firm, as if he could hold the world in them just to keep me safe. He gazed into my eyes with such unwavering devotion that my heart clenched painfully in my chest. "I swear it, my beautiful girl. No blade, no man, no beast can keep me from you. Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll fight, and then I’ll come home to you like I always do."

His words wrapped around me like a lifeline, each syllable a tether to the reality I so desperately wanted to hold onto. But still, the fear lingered, gnawing at the edges of my mind. What if this time, something was different? What if tomorrow he didn't come back? I buried my face against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear. The sound was a soothing melody, grounding me, reminding me that he was here, that he was with me now. The soft, rhythmic pulse of his heart reminded me that he was alive, here, and promised to stay. For now, that was enough.

I curled deeper into him, my body instinctively seeking comfort in his warmth, in the solidness of his presence. His hand moved to my hair, fingers threading through it in slow, tender strokes. Each movement was a reminder of the safety I found in him, of the strength he provided just by being near me. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a lullaby, soothing me into a peace I knew I could only find when I was in his arms. His touch was grounding, each stroke of his fingers in my hair a promise, a soft whisper of love and assurance.

I let go of the world outside, surrendering myself to him completely. In his arms, with the sound of his heartbeat and the softness of his touch, everything felt as though it would be okay. His love was a blanket, wrapping me up, protecting me from the harshness of the world. I let my body relax, let the tension bleed away, and with a final, shuddering breath, I allowed myself to drift into sleep, the comfort of his embrace carrying me away.

The next day arrived far too quickly. The bustling sounds of the city outside their home were a harsh reminder of what lay ahead, a world so different from the quiet solace they had shared in their final moments together. William stood by the door, his posture tense, as he prepared to face the arena. Beyond the heavy wooden gates, the Colosseum loomed, its ancient stone structure towering like a monstrous sentinel, casting long shadows over the bustling streets. The vast amphitheatre stretched into the horizon, a circular monument to the cruelty and spectacle of the empire, its tiers rising like a sea of watching eyes, waiting for the blood to spill. The sun glinted off the stone, reflecting the promise of violence and glory in every crack and crevice of its walls, as the sounds of the crowd grew louder.

Dressed in his battle attire, William was no longer the man she knew, but a warrior of the arena. His tunic, simple yet functional, clung to his form beneath a gleaming bronze chest plate, intricately designed with ancient symbols that glinted in the light. Over his shoulders, a crimson cape fluttered, its deep red a symbol of both strength and sacrifice. His Roman praetorian helmet rested on a nearby table, the polished metal gleaming with an intimidating sheen, decorated with intricate etchings along its crest. He was the embodiment of an unstoppable force, every piece of armour symbolising a battle fought and a life at stake.

As Y/n adjusted his helmet, her fingers tracing the curves of its cold surface, she looked up into his cerulean sapphire eyes—eyes that had once held tenderness but now radiated a calm, silent strength. He leaned down, his lips finding hers in a lingering kiss, soft yet desperate as if trying to memorise the feeling of her before stepping into the chaos. When they finally parted, he kissed the ring that adorned her finger, a small gesture that spoke volumes, a promise between them that transcended the violence he was about to face.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I stood there, my hands trembling ever so slightly as I adjusted his helmet. The weight of the moment settled over me, the quiet before the storm, the final moments before he stepped into that arena where I knew only one of us might walk out alive. I glanced up into his sapphire eyes, searching for the familiar warmth, the spark of life that had always calmed me, but today it was different—today, they held something else. Determination. Strength. A quiet, unwavering resolve.

"Stay strong for me, my love," he whispered, his voice soft but steady. His words felt like a lifeline, and yet, the fear in my chest threatened to swallow me whole. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it only seemed to grow larger. How could I stay strong when everything in me wanted to beg him to stay? To keep him here, with me, away from the horrors he was about to face? But I knew I couldn’t. Not for him, not for us.

"I’ll see you in the stands," he added with a faint smile, the kind that was both reassuring and bittersweet, as if he were trying to mask the looming weight of the moment with humor. It didn't quite reach his eyes, but there was a quiet confidence there that made my heart both ache and flutter. I wanted to believe him—wanted to believe that this would be like all the other times, that he would come back to me as he always did. But this time felt different. The uncertainty gnawed at me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this time, something might change.

I nodded, but my voice betrayed me, trembling as I spoke. “Be careful. Please, William.”

His smile never wavered, and he straightened up, standing tall with the poise of a warrior, ready for the fight ahead. There was something about the way he carried himself, the way he faced everything with such unshakable certainty, that made him seem invincible. But I knew—he wasn’t invincible. None of us were. “Always,” he said, his voice thick with that simple, unbreakable vow. It hung in the air like a promise, but it was also a heavy weight on my chest, reminding me of the very real danger he was walking into. The gravity of it hit me harder than ever, and I could feel my heart sinking even deeper into the pit of my stomach.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but the words caught in my throat. There were so many things I needed to tell him, so many things I wanted him to know. I wanted him to understand how much he meant to me, how deeply I loved him, how terrified I was of losing him. But no matter how hard I tried, the words didn’t come. They felt too big, too overwhelming to say aloud, and I could feel the tears building up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. The ache in my chest was unbearable, a constant reminder of how little control I had over this moment, over the uncertainty that lay ahead. I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want to watch him walk into that arena, into the arms of danger, where everything could be taken from us in the blink of an eye. But I had no choice.

A single tear slipped down my cheek, and before I could even react, before I could brush it away, his hand was gently cupping my face. His thumb swept over my skin with such tenderness, such care, that it felt like he was trying to erase the pain in my soul with nothing more than the simple act of loving me. His touch was deliberate, soothing, as if he could make everything better just by being here, just by holding me close. I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth of his hand on my face, the softness of his touch, but the ache in my heart only deepened.

"Hey, none of that now," he murmured softly, trying to lighten the mood, his voice filled with a teasing warmth that made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. "You know I always come back, don't you? No need to stress. I’ll be in the stands, waving to you, just like I always do. Besides," he added, with a playful glint in his eye that was almost too easy, "you’ve got nothing to worry about. If anyone can survive that arena, it’s me."

His attempt at humor, his gentle teasing, was the smallest of distractions, a fleeting reprieve from the whirlwind of my thoughts. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that everything would be okay, that this time, like all the other times, he would walk out of that arena unscathed, that he would be there with me again, alive, whole. But as I looked into his eyes, I saw the same uncertainty that tugged at my own heart. And I knew, deep down, that we were both holding on to that hope, that fragile thread, with everything we had.

"I swear to you, Y/n," he continued, his voice low and sincere now, his hand still holding my face gently, as though afraid that if he let go, I might fall apart. "No matter what happens, I always come back to you." His gaze softened as he brushed his thumb over the tear on my cheek. "You’re my world. I’ll fight like hell to make sure I see you again."

The sincerity in his voice, the unspoken promise behind his words, cracked something inside me wide open. I nodded slowly, trying to hold back the tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm me, to keep from breaking in front of him. But it was impossible to hide the rawness in my heart, the fear that twisted inside me like a vice.

He smiled again, this time a little more genuine, a little less forced, and pulled me into a brief but tight embrace. "Now," he said softly, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes, "no more tears. You know I can't stand seeing you like this. I'll see you in the stands, and when this is all over, I’ll be back in your arms, where I belong." I attempted to speak to him once more but before I can utter a single word I get cut off by him.

"Shh," he whispered, his voice a soft murmur against my ear. "It’s going to be okay. I promise. I’m doing this for us, Y/n. For our future." His thumb wiped away another tear that I hadn’t even realised had fallen. "So we can have our home. So we can start a family one day."

The words hit me harder than anything else he could have said. I had always known that he fought for survival, but I had never understood the depth of his sacrifice until now. The thought of him doing this for us—so we could have a life, so we could build something together, tore at my heart. It was more than I could bear.

“I’ll come back to you,” he continued, his voice steady, but there was an emotion in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before—vulnerability, fear hidden beneath the surface. “I’ll come back, and we’ll build our life, I promise. All I need is a few more winnings and then I promise I’ll never touch a blade again”

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breath as the tears continued to fall. I couldn’t stop them; I didn’t want to stop them. It was as though all the fear and love I had for him, everything I had kept hidden, was finally breaking free.

When I opened my eyes again, he was still there, his gaze never leaving mine. “I will come back,” he repeated, his words now a silent plea, a desperate need for me to believe in him, to believe in us.

I nodded, unable to speak, my chest too tight to form any more words. I wanted to be strong for him, to hold it together, but at that moment, all I could do was let my emotions flood through me. He gently kissed the top of my head, pulling me into his arms, and holding me close for one last, lingering moment.

“I love you, Y/n,” he whispered, and it was the most painful, beautiful thing he could have said.

“I love you too,” I replied, my voice hoarse, barely audible as I clung to him, afraid that if I let go, I would lose him forever.

You’re just being paranoid, I think to myself tying to calm my senses.

I clung to his words, to the warmth of his embrace, trying to etch every moment into my memory, knowing that it was the last one I would get before he walked into that arena. His words were a balm, a fleeting comfort, but they couldn’t completely ease the ache in my heart. Still, I nodded, pressing my lips to his one last time, a silent vow of my own: I’ll wait for you. Always.

With a final, gentle squeeze, he stepped back, his eyes meeting mine one last time before he turned toward the door. I watched as he walked away, his armour gleaming in the dim light, his figure growing smaller with every step until the door closed behind him, and I was left alone in the silence.

I didn’t know if I could be strong, but I had no choice. For him. For us. I would have to find a way.

As they were separated at the gates of the Colosseum, Y/n’s heart pounded so hard in her chest, it felt like it might shatter at any moment. Her feet felt heavy as she ascended the grand staircase leading to the stands, each step seeming to echo her growing anxiety. The roars of the crowd blurred around her, the deafening chants of excitement ringing in her ears, but all she could focus on was the hollow pit in her stomach and the way her hands trembled as she clutched the railing. The sun beat down mercilessly, casting harsh light on the arena below, but it felt cold to her, like the very air had turned to ice.

Below, through the wide opening of the gates, she saw him—William—being escorted to the preparation area. His broad shoulders squared with every step, his back straight, a figure of quiet strength amid the chaos. She could barely breathe as she watched him disappear into the shadows of the arena. She knew what was coming. She knew the violence, the brutality, that awaited him in the arena. And yet, all she could do was watch.

Her eyes followed his every movement as he donned his gladiator armor, the bronze plates glinting sharply under the harsh sun. The sound of metal scraping against metal filled the air as the armor was fastened into place. He wore it like a second skin, a familiar comfort—one that only served to remind her of the dangerous world he had to enter. His jaw was set, his lips pressed into a thin line of determination, and in his eyes, there was something she couldn’t quite place—a mixture of resolve and something else, something darker, like a man who had come to terms with the violence he was about to endure.

He gripped his sword tightly, his knuckles white as he held the hilt, as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded in a world full of brutality. The thought of him stepping onto that blood-soaked sand, ready to fight not for glory, not for the crowd’s adoration, but for her—for them—made her chest tighten. Always for her.

Y/n’s heart ached at the thought, and a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. She wiped it away quickly, not wanting anyone to see her weakness, but the pain was too much to hide. The anticipation in the stands was deafening as the announcer’s voice boomed through the air, the crowd roaring with excitement. Fight after fight came and went. Swords clashed, shields were shattered, and men fell, their screams echoing through the arena. Each brutal clash of weapons, each cry of pain, made Y/n’s stomach twist in knots. The blood spilt, the sweat and dust clinging to the combatants' skin—it all blurred into a horrific dance of violence. The crowd cheered, their hunger for blood insatiable, but Y/n could only feel a suffocating dread. It was as if each fight was a reminder of the horrors that awaited William.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away, even though her heart begged her to look away, to block out the chaos. She clenched her fists in her lap, nails digging into her palms, trying to steady herself, but the fear gnawed at her insides. She watched, powerless, as gladiators clashed in brutal combat, their weapons slicing through flesh, their bodies falling, lifeless. Every time a fighter collapsed, every time blood sprayed into the air, she felt like the world itself was crumbling around her. Her heart raced with every swing of a sword, every shudder of a body hit with a heavy blow.

Then, finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, the announcer’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding, slicing through the tension that had settled over Y/n like a thick, suffocating fog. This was it. Her breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening as the gates to the arena groaned open. The sound of them scraping against the stone seemed to reverberate in her bones, drawing her gaze to the entrance. Every heartbeat felt like a drumbeat against her ribs as she held her breath, waiting for him to emerge.

The instant her eyes locked onto him, her world narrowed, and everything else—the madness of the crowd, the roaring of the spectators, the bloodied battles before—faded into nothingness. He stood tall, unwavering, as though the weight of the arena, the weight of the fight, the weight of the world, meant nothing in the face of his resolve. His boots pounded heavily against the stone floor, each step deliberate, each movement measured, but to Y/n, it was as if time itself had decided to pause, to give her just a few precious moments to absorb the sight of him. The harsh sunlight glinted off his armor, casting golden highlights across the bronze plates, making them gleam like polished fire. His sword—his weapon, his lifeline—was gripped tightly in his hand, the hilt as familiar to him as his own skin.

She could feel the tension in the air, electric, crackling, as the crowd roared louder, but it was as if they were all distant echoes in her mind. She could only see him—his face set in determination, his jaw clenched in that way she knew so well. And for the briefest of moments, everything stilled. The world, with its brutal violence and unrelenting demands, seemed to hold its breath with her. All there was in that single, fleeting second was him—her William, standing at the edge of the arena, ready to face whatever challenge lay before him. Ready to fight for his life, for them.

And then, without warning, their eyes met.

It was a fleeting glance, so brief that she could have convinced herself she imagined it if it weren’t for the warmth that flooded her chest. In the space of that single moment, she saw more than just the steely determination of a fighter; she saw him—the boy—the man who had promised her more than this life of violence, who had sworn to always return to her. A slight, almost imperceptible grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, and for the first time since she had walked into the colosseum leaving him below down there, Y/n’s heart lightened. Just as he had said to her he waved his arm in the hair up at her, even in this crowd of people up above he still saw her. A silent promise passed between them, one that needed no words: He would fight. He would survive. He would come back to her.

But just as quickly, the moment shattered like glass, the promise lingering in the air as the gates across from him creaked open, and her stomach dropped.

A figure emerged—his opponent.

The man was massive, his frame towering, covered in dark armor that seemed to absorb the sunlight, making him appear as a shadow against the brightness of the arena. The crowd erupted, a deafening roar of anticipation that shook the very stands beneath Y/n’s feet. She could feel her pulse hammering in her ears, each beat a painful reminder of the horror unfolding before her. Her throat constricted, a vice around her breath as she watched the two men face each other, the tension crackling between them like a storm about to break.

William’s opponent lunged forward with terrifying speed, swinging a massive battle axe with deadly intent. Y/n’s heart stopped as the axe cut through the air with a vicious arc, its edge gleaming like a promise of blood. William barely managed to dodge in time—his body twisting to the side, but the sheer force of the swing sent him stumbling back, his feet sliding in the sand. The sound of the blow reverberated through the arena, the impact ringing in Y/n’s chest like the strike of a hammer. Her breath was stolen from her, her chest tight as she watched him struggle to regain his footing, the strain visible in every muscle of his body.

The crowd screamed, a wave of savage excitement rolling through the stands, but Y/n could barely hear them. All she could focus on was him—the way his body moved with the raw power and desperation of someone who refused to be taken down. His face was set in a mask of concentration, sweat dripping down his forehead, his brow furrowed in determination. His sword, so familiar to him, was still gripped tightly in his hand, its edge gleaming as it glinted in the sunlight.

Then it happened. A single misstep. William’s foot faltered, sliding across the blood-slicked sand like a cruel twist of fate, and the arena seemed to hold its breath. His stance wavered, his balance thrown. Y/n’s heart stopped, her breath frozen in her chest as she leaned forward, gripping the edge of the stone bench so tightly her knuckles turned white.

No.

The word screamed through her mind, a desperate denial of what was unfolding before her. She wanted to shout, to warn him, to do anything to stop what was coming, but the air refused to leave her lungs. She could only watch in horror as his opponent’s eyes gleamed with vicious intent, his movements swift and merciless. He lunged forward, seizing the moment with a predator’s precision, and the blade glinted in the sunlight before plunging into William’s side.

Time shattered.

The deafening roar of the crowd surged like a tidal wave, but to Y/n, it was as though the world had gone silent. Her scream tore from her throat, raw and filled with a terror so consuming it drowned out everything else. The sound of her agony cut through the air, lost amidst the frenzy of cheers and applause. Her vision blurred with tears as she stood, clutching the rail in front of her as though it could anchor her to reality.

“No! No, no, no!” she cried, her voice cracking, but the scene below remained unchanged, a nightmare playing out in agonizing clarity.

William staggered, his body jerking violently with the impact. The blade had sunk deep, a crimson stain spreading rapidly across the bronze plates of his armor. He faltered, his knees buckling, and she could see the pain etched on his face—a fleeting grimace that was quickly replaced with something else. Determination. Defiance.

“Get up,” Y/n whispered, her voice trembling as her tears fell freely, streaking her face. She clenched the railing tighter, as if her sheer will alone could pull him back to his feet. “Please, William. Get up. You promised me.”

But his movements slowed, his sword slipping from his hand to the bloodstained sand below with a hollow clang that echoed in her soul. The cheers of the crowd grew louder, a sickening roar of approval that made bile rise in her throat. They were celebrating. Celebrating his pain, his suffering. His possible death.

No, this can’t be happening.

The denial pulsed through her veins, her mind refusing to accept what her eyes were seeing. He always comes back. He always wins. She shook her head violently, clutching the necklace he had given her, the cool metal digging into her palm as if to remind her of the truth she wanted to believe.

“Fight,” she whispered again, the word turning into a chant. “Fight, William. Fight.”

His opponent stood above him now, raising his blade for the final strike, and the crowd roared in anticipation. Y/n screamed, her voice breaking as she reached out as though she could bridge the impossible distance between them.

“Stop! Please, someone stop this!” she begged, but no one in the stands paid her any mind. They were too drunk on the spectacle, too consumed by the bloodlust of the moment.

Below, William lifted his head, his gaze finding hers one last time. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear him over the din of the crowd. Yet she knew—she felt—what he was trying to say.

“I’m sorry.”

Her heart shattered.

As the opponent’s blade swung down, she turned away, collapsing into her seat, her body wracked with sobs. She couldn’t watch. She couldn’t bear to see the light in his eyes snuffed out. The roaring of the crowd, the brutal finality of the moment, pounded in her ears, but her mind refused to accept it.

He can’t be gone. He promised me.

The sound of the crowd blurred into a distant hum, their cheers and jeers blending into an overwhelming cacophony she couldn’t escape. Her vision tunneled, her mind racing with fragments of hope and denial that battled for dominance.

He’ll get up. He has to. He always does. This isn’t real—it can’t be.

The guards moved to clear the arena floor, their voices booming, but she barely registered them. Her body moved on its own, pushing past anyone in her path, stumbling down the stairs that seemed endless. The hard stone bruised her knees as she fell, but she didn’t stop, scrambling back to her feet and running toward the gates that led to the arena floor. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, each one harder than the last, her chest constricting as if the air itself had turned against her.

She reached the edge of the arena, the iron gates separating her from him. The metallic taste of blood from where she’d bitten her lip filled her mouth, but she didn’t care. Her fingers curled around the bars, gripping them tightly as she screamed his name, her voice raw and broken. “William!”

The guards stationed at the gates stepped forward, blocking her way, their expressions stoic. “You can’t go in there,” one of them barked, his tone devoid of compassion.

“Let me through!” she pleaded, desperation dripping from every word. “Please! He’s hurt—he needs me!”

Her words fell on deaf ears. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t. This wasn’t just some gladiator to her—this was William, her William. The boy who had made her laugh on the darkest days, who had held her close when the world felt like it was crumbling around her. The man who had promised her a life beyond this nightmare.

But now that promise was slipping away.

“Move!” she screamed, her voice cracking as she pushed against them, clawing at the barriers that kept her from him. The guards didn’t budge, their faces stone-like, and for a moment, she felt utterly powerless. She sank to her knees again, her head pressed against the cold bars, her sobs wracking her body as the reality she had been denying began to seep in.

And then she saw him.

Beyond the guards, beyond the bloodied sand, William lay crumpled on the ground. His once-strong form looked smaller now, fragile in a way that stole the air from her lungs. The blood pooled around him, its dark red hue a brutal contrast to the golden light of the setting sun. She choked on her sobs, her hand reaching out through the bars as though she could touch him, as though she could bring him back to her with nothing more than her will.

“Let me go to him,” she begged again, her voice barely a whisper now, her strength all but gone.

One of the guards hesitated, his gaze softening for a fraction of a second before he stepped aside. The gates creaked open, and she didn’t wait for permission. She stumbled forward, her legs shaking, her hands clutching at the air as she ran to him.

When she finally reached the arena floor, she dropped to her knees beside him. The impact jarred her bones, but she didn’t care. Nothing else mattered but him. William’s breaths were shallow, his face pale, but his eyes—those impossibly warm eyes—still held that familiar love as they met hers.

“William,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she cradled his face in her trembling hands. His skin was cold beneath her touch, the warmth she had always known slipping away. Tears streamed down her cheeks, falling onto his bloodstained armor.

“I’m here,” she choked out, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. “I’m here, my love. You’re going to be okay. You have to be okay.”

Tears streamed down her face as she cradled his head in her lap, her fingers fumbling to unbuckle the heavy, dented helmet that obscured his face. She finally pulled it free, tossing it aside with trembling hands. His features, once so strong and full of life, were pale and slick with sweat, his lips tinged with a haunting blue. Her thumb brushed gently over the streaks of dirt and blood on his cheek as if she could wipe away his pain.

“No, William. Please, stay with me. You promised!” Her voice broke, the words a desperate plea as the tears fell faster. She clutched him tighter, as if holding him close could somehow anchor him to her.

He coughed suddenly, the sound ragged and wet, and a dark crimson streak dribbled from the corner of his mouth. The sight made her stomach twist violently, and she frantically wiped it away with her sleeve, her hands shaking uncontrollably. 

“You’re okay,” she whispered, the denial in her voice cracking under the weight of her grief. “You have to be okay. We still have so much to do, William. Remember? We were going to leave this place—together. Just hold on a little longer, please.”

His eyes, glassy but still warm, met hers again. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, each word a struggle. His hand, slick with blood, rose shakily to her cheek. His touch was so faint, so fleeting, but she leaned into it as if it were the only thing keeping her alive. “I… love you.”

“Don’t say that like it’s goodbye!” she cried, her voice raw and trembling. “You can’t leave me. You promised, William. You swore you’d always come back to me.” Her tears fell freely, landing on his bloodied armor as her hands cupped his face, desperate to keep him focused on her. “I need you. Do you hear me? I need you. You can’t go—please don’t go.”

But his breathing grew weaker, each shallow inhale rattling painfully in his chest. His eyes began to flutter closed, and she shook him gently, her voice breaking. “No, no, no! Stay with me, William! Look at me! You’re not allowed to leave me like this. You’re stronger than this—we’re stronger than this.”

Her sobs wracked her body, her grip on him tightening as if she could physically hold him together, but his hand fell from her face, landing limply in her lap. The light in his eyes dimmed, and his head lolled slightly to the side. “No,” she whispered, her voice trembling as reality clawed at the edges of her mind. “No, no, no…”

She pressed her forehead against his, her tears mixing with the blood staining his face. “This isn’t real. It can’t be real,” she chanted under her breath, her voice hollow and shaking. “We still had so much to do, William. We still had so much time…”

The guards approached, their heavy footsteps thudding against the blood-soaked sand, but she barely noticed them until they tried to pull her away. “No!” she screamed, her voice raw and piercing as she clung to him. “Don’t you dare touch him! He’s still here! He’s still mine!”

Her fists pounded against the guards, her cries echoing through the now-quiet arena. She fought with every ounce of strength she had left, her body writhing as they pried her fingers from him. “You can’t take him! Please, don’t take him from me! Don’t take my William-not my Billy” she sobbed, her voice cracking as the fight drained from her.

They pulled her away, her arms reaching out for him as she screamed his name, her soul breaking with every step that separated them. The sight of his still body lying in the dirt seared itself into her mind, a vision that would haunt her forever. And as the gates closed behind her, the roaring crowd finally returned, their cheers a cruel mockery of the love she had just lost.

[thegettingbyp2]

Billy the Kid Masterlist

I'm Not Going Anywhere

Would You

Would I Do This * I Would Do This

I Could Never