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geminiwritten · 2 years ago

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i’m yours ; billy butcher

fandom: the boys

pairing: billy x reader

summary: you find out that butcher slept with maeve, and attempt to ignore your feelings by going m.i.a. and going home with a complete stranger, only to awake the green-eyed monster living inside of butcher

preface: this isn’t set in canon timeline, it’s basically just using the bit where butcher sleeps with maeve as a bit of a jealousy catalyst

notes: this man has a hold on me... and i feel like this got a little rushed at the end but i still kind of like it, please let me know what y’all think! (also, i’m sorry all my stuff has the same formula, i promise i’m trying to mix it up!)

warnings: a lot of swearing, the ‘sewer-slide’ word, google-translated french, sexual content, and some soft smut

word count: 5315

Things are good, too good, but you’re doing your best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Hughie and Annie are happy, MM is content, and Frenchie is excitedly creating new methods of blowing up Supes almost daily. Butcher is… well, Butcher. He’s grumpy and brash, but seems to be feeling a little more positive lately, focusing more on recon and intel rather than running in with guns blazing.

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, you had managed to go grocery shopping without anyone stumbling home bloody and bruised. Frenchie is humming along to the song that had been playing on the radio, carrying most of the plastic bags while MM carries one with you on his back. You were all in such high spirits that he had let you jump on his back at the bottom of the apartment stairs, carrying you up four flights as if you weighed no more than a hiking backpack.

Frenchie chuckles at the two of you as he unlocks the apartment door, entering first and pushing it open all the way. You have to duck a little, giggling and holding on to MM for dear life as he starts jogging toward the couch. He drops the bag on the floor before falling into the sofa, and you squeal as he squashes you.

“Hey,” you exclaim, still laughing, “what the fuck? Steeds don’t sit on their riders!”

“You want to ride me next, petit ange?” Frenchie calls from the kitchen.

You writhe until MM moves, standing up with a satisfied grin across his lips. You flip him your middle finger as he turns away, ushering Frenchie out of the kitchen so he can put the groceries away. You find the TV remote buried in the couch cushions, and just as the old screen flickers to life, Kimiko emerges from the hallway. She looks at Frenchie with a small smile, signing hello before her nose crinkles, and she signs another sentence you struggle to catch as your attention is called toward the master bedroom doors.

Frenchie frowns curiously, “She says that it smells in here.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you lot are stinkin’ up my fuckin’ apartment,” Butcher says, running a hand through his hair.

He looks like shit. His shirt is wrinkled and the buttons are fastened crookedly, his hair is standing up in all directions, and the circles beneath his eyes are several shades darker than usual.

“It is our apartment, Butcher,” Frenchie states, “it is the least you can after making me blow up my last two places, eh?”

Butcher rolls his eyes before dropping into one of the dining room chairs, holding his face in his hands as he takes several deep breaths.

Frenchie looks to Kimiko again before translating, “She says it smells like alcohol and sweat, and a perfume that she has not smelt before.”

“I don’t wear perfume,” you note, “every time we have to haul ass and run, the bottles end up broken or missing, so I gave up.”

MM raises his hands in defence, “Don’t look at me, I haven’t seen anyone but you lot in the past twelve hours.”

“Perhaps it is something we picked up at the shops,” Frenchie shrugs.

Kimiko signs again, and you watch her to listen.

“You can smell a stranger?” you ask with a frown.

“To reiterate,” MM says, “I stayed at a motel alone last night, I was too tired to drive all the way here after visiting Janine.”

“I stayed with Annie,” you point out, “is that who you can smell?”

Kimiko shakes her head, and your heart begins to race anxiously. Neither she nor Frenchie stayed here last night either, opting for one of his old hideouts after scouring the city for any possible missed traces that Vought could use to find you all.

MM turns to Butcher, “Was there someone here last night?”

“Why would you not tell us that there was a break in?” Frenchie demands, his face a mixture of irritation and concern.

Butcher sighs, “There wasn’t a fuckin’ break in, calm down.”

Kimiko pads quietly around the room, subtly sniffing the air around MM and then Frenchie before moving toward you. She inhales above your head and grimaces, before moving to the side and taking a deep breath over the couch.

You shoot up from your seat and stumble toward the kitchen, “Me or the couch?”

She points at the sofa.

“Butcher,” MM says, his voice demanding, “explain before I slap your hungover ass.”

Its only then that you notice the two empty bottles of whiskey, one on the coffee table and one laying on the floor. You back up slowly toward the kitchen, a fresh wave of panic washing over you.

“Someone stopped by,” Butcher mutters into his hands, “that’s all.”

You reach the kitchen bench at the same time Kimiko does, still sniffing like a police dog, and her face twists into a disgusted frown. You startle again, jumping back from the bench as if it had burnt you.

“Care to elaborate?” MM presses.

Butcher sighs, and you can feel a lump growing in your throat.

“We all sleep here too, Butcher,” Frenchie states, “and we deserve to know if it is still safe to do so.”

“‘Course it’s fuckin’ safe,” Butcher says, finally turning his head to face the room. “Maeve came by, alrigh’? Just her, ‘n’ she had some information, so we had a chat and a drink. Is that alrigh’ with you nosey bastards?”

A weight drops in your stomach, anchoring you to the floor as moisture begins to blur your vision.

Kimiko stops sniffing when she reaches Butcher, cringing and stumbling several paces back until she is beside Frenchie.

“You slept with a Supe?” MM gasps.

Butcher huffs and pushes himself up from the chair, “No fuckin’ privacy with you lot, is there?”

MM raises his hands again, “Hey, I’m not judging, just shocked.”

Frenchie’s concern melts into taunting smirk, “No need to be defensive, Monsieur Charcutier, we all have our needs, and I am surprised that you managed to woo such a beautiful woman.”

“Fuck off, Frenchie,” Butcher sighs, dragging his feet toward the fridge.

Their voices blur into white noise as you focus on the slow inhale and exhale of your breath. You wriggle your toes in your boots, forcing yourself to feel your physical body instead of the whirlwind of emotions swirling through your head. It feels like your skull is fracturing with the effort that it takes to contain the storm, but you refuse to let your feelings win. You find a bottle and push them inside, jamming the cork in just as Frenchie snaps his fingers in front of your nose.

You blink, “What?”

“Are you okay?” he asks, a soft crease between his brows.

“Yeah, sorry,” you blink again to quell your watery eyes, “what’s up?”

“Are you hungry?”

You glance over his shoulder at Butcher, his head in the fridge as he ignores MM’s demands to get out of the way.

“Not really,” you reply, “I was actually thinking about going back over to Annie’s, I think I forgot my… my socks.”

The concern between Frenchie’s brows deepens, “You forgot your socks?”

You nod, “My favourite socks.”

“Didn’t know you had favourite socks,” Butcher mumbles as he steps out of the kitchen.

“You don’t know a lot of things,” you state, plastering on a smile that you know doesn’t reach your eyes.

You can feel their curious gazes on you as you turn, retrieving your wallet and keys from the couch before striding out of the apartment door without a second glance. You pull your phone out of your pocket and text Annie to let her know that you’re on your way before switching it to ‘do not disturb’ and zipping it inside your jacket pocket, determined to forget about it until you’ve got a handle on your emotions.

The sun is setting by the time you reach the familiar street on which Hughie and Annie’s apartment is located, and you’re rather proud of the fact that you managed to focus on nothing but your steady steps the whole way here. You look up at the brick building on your left, but instead of turning toward the front steps, your feet carrying you across the street toward the park, not stopping until you’re standing in front of an empty bench.

“Something wrong with that one?” a voice asks, and you startle toward the source of it.

A young man is standing beside you, clad in running shorts and a tight exercise jacket. He doesn’t look menacing, but your whole body tenses as your fight or flight instincts battle for dominance.

“I’m sorry?”

He chuckles, “The bench, I mean. You’re frowning at it as if it’s diseased or something.”

“Oh,” you look back at the moss-ridden seat, “no, I just- I don’t know.”

“Are you alright?”

He buries his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and you let yourself relax, deciding that he isn’t a threat, just an overly friendly stranger.

“I’m fine, sorry,” you sigh, “just had a weird day.”

“That’s nothing to apologise for,” he says, sitting on the bench and looking up at you. “I know the feeling.”

You sit beside him, watching his side profile and slowly realising how attractive he is. His hair is cropped short, shorter than you usually liked, but his eyes are a stunning green and the faint shadow of stubble across his jaw is definitely something you can appreciate.

“Do you often approach strangers in the park?” you ask.

He laughs again, his eyes sparkling under the orange sky, “No, not really, especially not strangers as gorgeous as you.”

You blush at the ground, deciding to focus on your fraying shoelaces rather than the handsome stranger.

“But I figured,” he goes on, “that if I didn’t ask this pretty girl if she was okay, I might not be able to stop thinking about her for the rest of my life.”

You actually giggle, immediately cursing yourself for being so easy, “That’s a long time.”

“I know, right? I didn’t fancy the risk, and hey,” he smiles at you, “looks like it might have been worth it.”

“Maybe,” you smile back, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nate.”

You’re not sure if you’re an idiot or if you’ve just given up on your own personal safety, but you sit and talk to Nate until the sun is well below the horizon. You learn that he’s a journalist and a dog person, and lately he’s been more afraid of Supes than comforted by their presence. You tell him you’re a freelancer, because it isn’t technically a lie, and that you’re in between gigs at the moment but questioning whether you’re really doing what you want to be doing. Also, not a lie.

“I know that this is probably very forward,” he says, his knee bouncing nervously, “but did you want to come back to my place for a drink? I would suggest a bar, but I’m not really dressed for it, and I just get this feeling that as soon as we say goodbye, you’re going to disappear forever.”

You frown, “You’re a real long-term guy, aren’t you?”

His cheeks flush pink, “I don’t have to be.”

As you walk alongside the man you met mere hours ago, you come to the conclusion that you must be suicidal. In the current state that the world is in, who in their right mind goes home with a complete stranger? You, apparently.

His apartment isn’t far from the park, which is a little comforting, knowing that you will have a speedy escape to Annie’s place if this guy does end up being a psycho serial killer. The buildings all look the same as you approach a row of tall brick blocks, climbing the few concrete steps up to the lobby doors before scaling three flights to reach his apartment door.

It’s surprisingly well decorated inside, and you can eye a few expensive items that make you wonder if he really is a struggling journalist, or perhaps a shady underground arts dealer. You take a seat at the kitchen bench as he babbles about how crappy his landlord is and how much money he’s had to spend on the place to make it liveable. The glass of wine he places in front of you is gone within two gulps, and he happily pours you another.

“I feel like I probably should have asked this a few hours ago,” he says with a sheepish smile, “but you aren’t with anyone, are you? Engaged or married, or anything like that.”

You choke on your mouthful of cheap wine, coughing the burn away while he hurries to get you a glass of water.

“No,” you finally reply, “I’m not, at all.”

“Good,” he replies, his earnest grin returning, “I mean, it’s surprising because you’re incredible, but I’m glad.”

You offer him a smile that you hope appears coy and not at all forced before drinking down the rest of your second glass of wine. He moves into the lounge room, and you take the opportunity to pour yourself another generous glass, quickly swallowing the two mouthfuls left in the bottle while his back is still turned. You gingerly place the empty bottle in the sink before following him, dropping onto the soft leather couch as he turns on the television.

A news broadcast lights up the screen, and fiery images of a truck collision flash behind the breaking news banner that reads: ‘QUEEN MAEVE SAVES THE DAY’. Your stomach twists into a knot as the bottle of emotions you had managed to almost forget about begins to break, the glass fracturing and threatening to send you into a full-blown mental breakdown.

“Damn,” Nate sighs, “I know the Supes are pretty sketchy these days, but Queen Maeve is just gorgeous.”

With one last burning gulp of wine, you turn to the man beside you and take his head between your hands, crushing your lips against his. He gasps, but responds quickly, his hands finding your hips and guiding you onto his lap.

The rest of the night is a blur as you attempt to give all of your attention to this stranger that you barely know instead of confronting the green-eyed monster roaring in your belly. He finishes once on the couch, pretty quickly, but you’re not one to judge, before you drag him into the bedroom and away from the incessant news broadcasts of Queen Maeve’s heroic act.

It isn’t your alarm that wakes you, or the sound of Frenchie and MM arguing about how to cook eggs, but rather the unfamiliar scent that douses your breath. Your body trembles with anxiety and your eyes snap open, darting around the strange room as your thoughts scramble to remember how you got here.

“Fuck,” you sigh at the sound of someone snoring beside you.

You gently roll over and slip out of the sheets, cold air immediately nipping at your naked body. You find the nearest item of clothing and slip it over your head before tiptoeing out of the bedroom and into the lounge room. Nerves and hunger mingle inside of your stomach, making you overwhelmingly nauseous by the time you find your jacket thrown over the back of the couch.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter as you retrieve your phone from the pocket.

Dozens of missed calls and text messages fill your lock screen, several from Annie and Frenchie, a couple from Hughie and MM, but the majority of them listed under Butcher’s contact name, ‘Big Willy’. You thought it was funny a few days ago.

You quickly text Annie that you’re okay, you’re incredibly sorry, and that you’ll fill her in as soon as you see her. You find your jeans and wriggle into them before finding your panties and tucking them into your back pocket. You scoop your bra and your shirt off the floor on your way to the kitchen, and check your phone again for a reply from Annie. Nothing yet.

You drink the glass of untouched water from the kitchen bench before splashing your face and trying to calm the vibration of nerves coursing through your body.

“Hey.”

You startle at the sudden voice, turning to find Nate in nothing but sweatpants as he emerges from the bedroom.

“Hey,” you murmur.

He frowns, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-I’m fine, just- uh, my friends have been calling me,” you gesture to your phone, “and they’re pretty worried.”

“Oh,” he lets out a long breath, “I didn’t even hear it ringing last night.”

You smile weakly, not bothering to explain that you were intentionally avoiding your phone all afternoon.

He steps forward, “So, did you-”

The apartment door bursts open, splinters of wood scattering across the floor as you squeal and Nate jumps away from the blow. Your heart is racing, but your body reacts as it was trained to do, and you dive for a knife from the block beside the stove before freezing as you recognise the figure stalking through the broken door.

“Butcher,” you say, “what the fuck?”

His head snaps toward you, the crease between his brows softening and his eyes looking almost vulnerable as realises that it’s you.

“I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you and why did you just break my door?” Nate speaks up.

Your stomach sinks as Butcher’s attention is turned toward the shirtless man, murderous intent returning to his face.

“Who the fuck am I?” he spits, “Who the fuck are you?”

Nate looks tiny compared to Butcher, his narrow frame absolutely dwarfed by Butcher’s broad height and intimidating stance.

“I-I’m Nate,” the smaller man says, “and this is my apartment, that’s my door that you just destroyed.”

“Yeah?” Butcher taunts, stalking forward, “An’ what’re you gon’a do ‘bout it?”

Nate looks at you, his eyes frantic and begging for help.

“Butcher, calm down, he’s-”

“Calm down?” he whirls toward you, “You want me to fuckin’ calm down?!”

“Hey, man,” Nate says, “we can talk, you don’t have to-”

“Nate,” you put your hand up, “I’m sorry, but please shut up.”

“Nate,” Butcher repeats mockingly, “if you value your life, I’d listen to ‘er.”

You drop the knife on the bench, “Butcher, can we just leave, please?”

“You don’t get to make any requests right now, sweethear’,” he says, taking a heavy step toward you, “not after the shit you put me through for the past twelve fuckin’ hours.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls sarcastically, “maybe ‘bout the fact that you fuckin’ disappeared! You didn’t answer your damn phone, didn’t tell anyone where you fuckin’ were! I got a call from Hughie askin’ if you were back home, ‘cause you texted Annie ‘n’ told her you were comin’, but didn’t fuckin’ show up!”

A pebble of guilt drops into your stomach, but you ignore it, squaring up to him with a scowl.

“So?” you shrug, “I’m an adult, I can do as I fucking please.”

“Not without tellin’ me!” he exclaims, “Not if I don’t know where you fuckin’ are or if you’re even fuckin’ alive!”

“You’re not my fucking father, Butcher!” you shout back, feeling another fissure in the bottle of emotions. “I don’t belong to you, I don’t have to ask you for permission to live my own fucking life!”

His jaw twitches, a tidal wave of emotion crashing through his eyes all too quickly for you to try and discern any of them.

“A-Are you Y/N’s boyfriend?” Nate asks timidly.

You and Butcher turn to him in unison, exclaiming at the same time, “No!”

A beat of silence passes, and Butcher’s glare doesn’t falter. You take a deep breath to try and sooth the storm of frustration threatening to consume you.

“Butcher,” you say softly, “can we please leave?”

His head snaps back toward you, his eyes scanning your body as they fill with realisation.

“Did you fuck her?” he asks, turning back to Nate.

He doesn’t respond, his mouth hanging open as he takes several steps back.

“You gon’a answer me?”

“Butcher,” you say again, “cut it out.”

He takes another menacing step toward Nate, “I asked you a question.”

“W-We slept together, yes,” Nate stammers.

The laugh that leaves Butcher’s lips is chilling, sounding almost mad.

“Oh, pardon my French,” he says, “perhaps I should’a asked if you made sweet fuckin’ love to this gorgeous woman right ‘ere.”

“For fuck’s sake!” you shout, “Stop it, stop whatever the fuck this is, and let’s just fucking go!”

“You’re tellin’ me that you fuckin’ disappeared so you could hide out with this fuckin’ twat?” Butcher exclaims, “You let me worry myself fuckin’ sick so you could get a lousy fuck?”

The bottle explodes, shards of glass cutting you from the inside and sending white hot waves of frustration and anger, and despair rolling through your body.

“I can fuck whoever I want, Butcher!” you scream, startled by the volume of your own voice.

His eyes narrow, but his lips don’t move.

“And you can fuck whoever the fuck you want,” you spit, “obviously.”

You snatch your phone off the bench and stomp toward the door, turning to Nate with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, about… this.”

You continue down the hall and the three flights of stairs, not bothering to check if Butcher is following until you’re outside. The temperature is significantly lower than it was yesterday, but your stubbornness doesn’t let you show it as Butcher strides past you toward the car haphazardly parked at the curb.

You climb into the passenger’s seat, sitting as close as you can to the door and hugging your clothes against your chest as you stare out the window. Tears fill your eyes, your nose growing hot and your cheeks undoubtedly red as you use every ounce of self-control you still have to stave of the inevitable. All you need to do is make it home and make it to your bedroom, and then you can cry. You can curl up with your face in your pillow and sob, and admit that you’re jealous, that you’re hurt, and that you love a man who doesn’t even understand the meaning of that word anymore.

“You look like shit,” he grunts.

You sniffle, keeping your face turned away from him, “So do you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get much fuckin’ sleep,” he says as the car comes to a halt, “I was up all night worryin’ ‘bout whether or not you were fuckin’ alive.”

“Well, I didn’t get much sleep either,” you retort, before pushing the passenger door open and stumbling out.

You hear the car door slam as you hurry up the stairs and into the building, taking the steps two at a time until you reach the apartment door. To your great relief, it’s unlocked, and you let yourself in before Butcher has even made it into the hallway.

“Oh, my goodness, mon amour,” Frenchie gasps, “you’re alive! You’re okay… are you okay?”

You don’t realise your crying until you try to look at him, your vision blurred by heavy tears as they fall in fat droplets down your cheeks.

MM steps forward, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “I’m fine, I was with a-a friend.”

“A friend?” Butcher echoes, the door slamming behind him.

Your blood sizzles in your veins, heated by the overwhelming frustration coiling in your chest.

“How the fuck did you know where I was?” you demand, spinning around to face him.

He doesn’t answer.

“Do you have my fucking phone bugged?”

Butcher blows a long breath out of his nose, the thick vein in his neck throbbing under his red skin. “Look,” he says, “I know that whatever the fuck just happened wasn’t ideal, but why can’t you fuckin’ see this from my point of view?”

“Our point of view,” MM corrects, “we were all worried.”

“I get that!” you exclaim, “I fucking understand that, but what I don’t understand is why Butcher is still acting like such a fucking cunt. You can see that I’m fine! I’m alive, so what’s your problem?”

“What’s your problem?” he snaps, “Why didn’t you answer your fuckin’ phone? Why didn’t you tell anyone where you fuckin’ were? And why the fuck did you go home with a complete fuckin’ stranger?”

“Oh, shit,” Frenchie murmurs.

“Maybe I just needed a fucking break.”

The room falls quiet, the only sound being Frenchie’s soft footsteps as he backs away. You use the clothes in your arms to wipe the fresh fall of tears from your cheeks and try to ease your shaky breaths as you wait for another onslaught of reprimands.

Butcher sighs, “Go shower.”

“What?”

“You need to shower,” he says, stepping forward.

You frown, “Why?”

“You look like shit, and you sm-” he stops himself, pausing when you take a small step back.

“I look like shit and I smell,” you finish for him, “thanks, Butcher.”

You drag your feet toward the bathroom, dropping your clothes on the floor and staring at your wrecked face in the mirror. Your hair is a mess and your face is blotchy and red, with streaks of black painting your cheeks. The shirt hanging loosely from your shoulders is unfamiliar, and something akin to disgust settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Give me your clothes,” Butcher says as he appears in the reflection behind you.

“Why can’t you just fucking leave me alone?”

He sighs, “I’m tryin’ to help.”

“I don’t want your fucking help,” you turn to him and lean against the vanity, “go offer it to someone else. I’m sure Maeve would love to see your fucking name pop up on her phone.”

His frown disappears, and you can feel the air shift. Fuck. Now you’ve done it. The shards of glass sticking you from the inside have cut right through your chest, slicing it open as your ribcage cracks and unfolds, presenting your pathetic heart to the man who already held it in his hands.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them back with determination.

“I-Is that what this is-” he struggles for words, running his hands through his hair, “for fuck’s sake, Y/N.”

Your breath comes and goes in short gasps, the lump in your throat crushing your windpipe as it demands to be felt.

“For fuck’s sake!” he exclaims, before taking one step forward and slamming the bathroom door shut.

Fear sparks through you, and you whimper, “Butcher, please don’t-”

Before you can finish, he pulls you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you in a vice hold as he rests his chin on the top of your head. You sob into his shirt, tremors wracking your exhausted body as every bit of fear and frustration tears you apart from the inside. You’re not sure how you let yourself get this emotional. Maybe it’s the fact that the world is falling apart, and you’re supposed to act like you’re ready to save it? Or maybe it’s because you’re fucking tired of having everything you love ripped away from you, every chance you think you might have at happiness taken from you by the cunts in the sky who call themselves ‘Superheroes’.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

The turbulence inside of you quells simply because you finally acknowledged it, and you manage to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Butcher,” you croak, looking up at him through tear laced lashes, “kiss me?”

He hooks a finger beneath your chin and tilts it up, leaning in to meet you the rest of the way before his lips brush yours. It’s hesitant and soft, barely a touch, and he pulls away too soon.

“You need to shower.”

“Oh,” you try to wriggle out of his arms, but they’re too strong.

“I can smell that fuckin’ twat all over you,” he growls, “an’ it’s makin’ me fuckin’ sick.”

Realisation slaps you across the face, giving you the strength to remember how to hold yourself up as he pulls away. His fingers curl into the material at the neck of your shirt, ripping it apart right down the middle before pushing it off your shoulders and tossing it on the floor.

Another growl rumbles through his chest and the air in the room shifts again, now thick with a tension that has your heart throbbing in anticipation. Your mind races, your thoughts riding rollercoasters as you struggle to catch up with his fast hands. Your jeans are unbuttoned and pooled around your ankles in less than a second, and he takes another moment to devour your naked body before moving to turn on the shower.

You stumble out of your jeans as he quickly sheds his own clothes before wrapping an arm around your waist. He pulls you under the warm stream of water and holds your body against his, the feeling of his bare skin making your head spin. He takes the bottle of bodywash from the small shelf and pops the cap with one hand, turning it upside down and squirting a ridiculous amount all over your chest and his.

You giggle and he grins, returning the bottle to the shelf before crushing his lips against yours. The soap makes your skin slide against his in the most delicious way and you can feel your core clench, eliciting a wanton moan from your open mouth. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth and claiming you with hungry, sloppy kisses.

“Didn’t think you’d be jealous,” he murmurs against your mouth, “didn’t think you fuckin’ cared about me.”

You slide your hands across his bare shoulders and behind his neck, finding purchase in his wet hair and tugging gently as you kiss him with every ounce of passion that you have.

“I do care,” you sigh when his lips leave yours to lap at your neck, “I am fucking jealous.”

“Sweethear’,” he whispers, his hands moving to your breasts, “you’ve got nothin’ to be fuckin’ jealous ‘bout.”

His mouth leaves your skin as he turns you to face the wall, pressing his body against your back before pushing you into the tiled wall. You gasp first at the sudden cold, and then at the feeling of him grinding himself against your ass.

“I’m yours,” he growls, his lips against your shoulder, “always fuckin’ have been.”

You still manage to speak despite the pleasure of him threatening to overwhelm you. “Then why?”

One hand wraps gently around your throat while the other splays across your lower belly, teasing the place just below that aches for his touch.

“‘Cause I never fuckin’ dreamed that I’d have you,” he says, his lips at your ear now.

You reach back with one hand, holding the nape of his neck as you turn so that your mouth can meet his in a messy kiss.

“You’ve always had me,” you murmur, “I belonged to you the day I met you.”

His hips buck against your ass, pressing you against the wall and making you whimper.

“You’re mine,” he says, moving back just enough for you to turn around.

You nod as you lean down to kiss his neck. Your tongue laving at his wet skin before your teeth sink in and he hisses, one hand squeezing your hip as the other smacks against the tiled wall.

“All yours.”

You place your hands against his chest, pushing him back enough for you to drop to your knees, your hands trailing down his body until they reach his hips. You dig your fingers in and look up at him through your wet lashes.

“Show me who I belong to.”

END.

#billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #butcher x reader #the boys #karl urban #frenchie #mm #mothers milk #hughie campbell #starlight #queen maeve #homelander #oneshot #one shot #imagine #fanfic

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quixoticall · 4 months ago

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To Hell I Go

MASTERLIST

Suggested Listening: Anything Zach Bryan but particularly, "Something in the Orange", “Open the Gate”, and "I Remember Everything"

Chapter Warnings: Gun violence, injury, some light death ideation, Billy is here, death of an animal

WC: 2.8K

Author's Note: Hello! It's been a while! Please know I'm working on TCGU! But I've been really inspired by Zach Bryan recently and this concept of the Final Girl of the West which is how this idea was born. I hope you like it!

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“Sheriff Hopper’s after us. Has his new Pretty Boy deputy with him too.”

The sun is high and bright and bothersome but you’ve been on a job for the last month, which paints everything bothersome, even Max’s warning.

“Didn’t know Hopper was working with anyone,” you muse, as you dismount your horse, Calliope, and hand the young girl the reigns. Your muscles are stiff and achy from riding so long and you smell like a manure pit. You desperately want a proper bed—or a shallow grave—to fall into.

“He’s new. Hops probably needs the help on account of his leg being fucked up since you shot him,” Max responds, admiration tinging her voice.

You scoff, “I didn’t fuck up his leg, he’s just old and fat.”

You had barely even grazed him.

“Pretty Boy, huh? I’m sure your brother is seething about that.”

Max glares at you through her lashes, “he’s not my brother,” she warns.

You know this, of course, you’re just in a bad mood and looking for a bruise to poke. You should probably apologize but Max’ll get her lick back soon enough—it’ll be easy with you, too. You’re all bruise.

“Billy hates him, already ran into him and the Chief in Amarillo. Came home all black and blue from their scuffle, ended up running him off the trail and he fell off his horse.”

You whistle lowly, knocking Billy Hargrove off his horse is no easy feat. He must’ve been angry after that.

“He said that they had a list of all the gang’s members. Not our names or nothing, just descriptions, I guess. Apparently, Hopper has you on the list as ‘crack shot girl’. ”

You drink this information up, eyes scanning the horizon, half expecting Billy or Hopper or even Creel to spring out any moment. Nothing but the wind through the grass, though.

“What does he have you as?” You probe.

Max nearly pouts in response, “Red.”

You’re trying not to laugh, and instead grapple to change the subject.

“What about the ‘Pretty Boy’ deputy? Does he have a name?”

You don’t care too much, you want to keep the conversation going, it’s the only real one you’ve had in weeks.

“Heard it was Harrington or something like that,” Max shrugs, quickly losing interest in favor of brushing Calliope’s mane.

It has to be “something like that”, you decide, because you knew for a fact there wasn’t a single Harrington west of the Appalachians. There hadn’t been in years.

_______________

Steve Harrington was the first in his family to leave Wyoming in thirteen generations. It wasn’t by choice.

Steve’s daddy had been a cattle rancher. He hadn’t owned any land like yours had but he was the best bull rider in all the West. That was, until his fatal fall off the saddle when Steve was barely old enough to ride himself.

The heartbreak of her true love’s death had made a ghost of Steve’s mama, effectively making him an orphan.

He was thirteen when he had come to your Daddy’s ranch, threadbare hat clutched tightly in his fists nervously as he asked for work.

You were twelve then and watched the whole exchange from the top of the stairs with your sisters, the three of you drinking him in with an odd curiosity. He had been all limbs back then, thin and awkward but as tall as a man. His face was uncreased and fearful, giving away his true age. You listened, unseen as the young boy stuttered through an explanation of his pitiful circumstances.

He wasn’t looking for charity, he made a point to specify, but work. He could ride and wrangle and he knew how to work the land, too, he explained, chest puffing with pride. He would earn his keep, he propositioned.

The ranch was always in need of hands, and your father was always benevolent to necessary causes and in circumstances that made him seem like a better man than he was, so it was a done deal before night’s end.

_______________

“Son of a bitch,” you exhale through gritted teeth, desperately trying to reload your goddamn shotgun.

It was supposed to be an easy enough job—a little stagecoach stick up right outside of Tombstone. You had been scoping the target for days, a miner and his family making their way back East after striking it big in the mines. They were obnoxiously flagrant about their wealth—just like all New Money—and it was obvious that they were traveling with their coffers full of that fine California Gold. The plan was that you, Billy, and Tommy would ambush their stagecoach sometime around twilight before they reached Tombstone proper but then Max had decided to tag along and, while she was your favorite member of the gang by miles, she had no place at an armed robbery.

The whole operation was slowed down to accommodate the tagalong and suddenly it had become too dark and late to hit them before they arrived in Tombstone, so you had to adjust and hedge your bets on ambushing them when they left the small town the following morning. Someone must have recognized the crew that night and tipped off the sheriff, though, because next thing you know, the four of you are about to run the stagecoach off the trail when you hear gunshots and Hopper’s gruff demands for your surrender.

There goes that easy $800, you sigh to yourself, steadying your aim over your shoulder. You’re a lousy shot at this angle especially while riding a horse, but you’re not hoping for a miracle, only to distract long enough to give Max a chance to get away. She’s the slowest of the four and you refuse to leave her behind. (Even if all of this is kind of her fault.)

On the opposite side of the road from behind the stagecoach, you see a sharp movement— the deputy, you’re sure. From the corner of your eye you catch fragments of familiar hair, eyes, lips and suddenly your finger slips on the trigger, a stray bullet flies behind you, spooking a horse and causing some commotion. You hope it’s Hopper’s but you can’t bring yourself to check. You can’t bring yourself to do anything. At all. Because there, on the other side of the road, all tan skin and freckled-faced is Steve Harrington, alive and older and looking at you with an expression of shock matching your own.

“Sunshine?” He shouts over the gallop of hooves and in hearing his voice you’ve lost all doubt that this was some sort of joke you managed to play on yourself.

It’s him. Truly.

What you say back is lost to the wind as a lone shot rings out and suddenly you’ve lost your balance on your horse and you’re sent tumbling down, fingers fighting for purchase along your reigns.

Steve’s stunned face and the smoke from his gun are the final things you see before hitting the ground.

Son of a bitch.

_______________

You and Steve became fast friends, being close in disposition and most importantly, age.

While you loved your younger sisters they were just that: younger. At six and eight respectively, Hattie and Lottie were far too preoccupied with dress up and tea parties, hobbies that you had also adored at their age, but at the mature age of twelve, no longer stimulated you. In Steve you found a confidant and an accomplice.

You snuck him extra portions at supper and spent your spare moments following him around reading aloud from one of your many books. He had a penchant for war epics and horror while you liked romance and mystery. Both of you could agree, though that Westerns were the best.

In exchange for your generosity, Steve taught you how to ride and shoot and lasso.

He was the best teacher truly and would often outdo men of twice his age and size when it came to rearing and riding. He learned everything from his daddy, he had told you. Steve talked about his father a lot. About what he was like and everything he was exceptional at and how the crowd had gone stone silent when his broken body hit the dusty ground.

“That’s how I’m going to die too, one day,” he had told you, grim but not sad. “On a bull in Cheyenne. Probably the same one, he’s the only one that could take me out.”

“How do you know how you’re gonna die?” You awed at him.

“Just a feeling in my gut. Sometimes you just know,” he shrugged sagely.

You nodded along and tried, desperately so, to will your gut to give you a precognition about the circumstances of your own death.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna die,” you admitted to Steve after a long moment of self-assessment, “but I know you’re gonna be there.“

You had no clue what possessed you to say that other than the fact that you knew it to be categorically true.

Steve smiled in response, pleased.

_______________

You wake up under a sky of pinprick stars. Dreams of childhood vows and muddy fields filled with promise fade as you take in your surroundings.

There’s a fire burning next to you and a sharp pain running along your entire body, burning to match. Max suddenly appears by your side, looking equal measures relieved and frazzled.

“What happened?” You ask weakly.

“Pretty Boy shot Calliope and you fell into the ravine. Had to fish you out of there and find a place to lay you down.”

“What about Billy and Tommy?”

“They left us.”

Of course.

“Bastards.”

“Bastards,” Max agrees.

“And what about the sheriff… and the deputy?”

“Sheriff fell off his horse when you shot him and his deputy went after Billy. Didn’t see where though, but I’m sure he didn’t catch him.”

“Probably not,” you croak before accepting the canteen Max brought to your lips. Billy was a menace on a horse, agile and quick in ways most men could only dream and he already had too much of a head start.

You try to stand up now, too fast evidently, since Max rushes to your side to help you along when you waver. Eventually, you’re on your feet, stumbling forward with only Max keeping you upright, your whole body screaming at you to stop.

“Come on then, Red, let’s go back home.”

Your whole body aches so much your vision blurs and there’s a pain along your ribcage that may hint at a broken bone. The ride back to the Creel House on the back of Max’s scrawny horse is utter agony but at least Max has gifted you a mercifully silent journey by not trying to make conversation.

“You know him,” Max murmurs. It’s nearly morning when she finds enough courage to bring it up.

“Pretty Boy called you ‘sunshine’,” she continues, “I heard him.”

You freeze.

“You must’ve heard wrong then. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

You leave it at that.

_______________

By the time you were sixteen, you felt like you knew Steve better than you knew yourself. You could read him like a book—every crook of an eyebrow, every sideways glance, and their meaning were neatly categorized in your mind. Part of that was the familiarity bred by endless idle hours together and part of that was the burgeoning ache that had been festering inside of you in the past months; the soft, comforting ember of friendly affection had given way to something hotter, something you couldn’t bring yourself to define yet but singed your skin at the sight of him and made you want to chart his every mood like sailors charted the stars.

This was exactly why you could tell he was upset even though he denied it. Something about the way he clenched his jaw while he aimed his gun at the row of cans sitting on a broke down fence a little too hard indicated that he had something weighing on his mind.

“You’re meant to hit the targets, you know,” you goaded after he had missed all of five shots.

His jaw clenched harder.

“You can’t be cross just because I’m the better shot than you,” you needled further.

“I’m not cross,” he argued back, crossly.

“Yes, you are! You’ve been sullen and cross three weeks now even though you say otherwise and it’s driving me mad so, why don’t you stop being stubborn and tell me what it is that’s making you act like this and we can fix it and be back to normal. I don’t want to spend my last week here watching you pout all over the ranch.”

He sighed a drawn-out, guttural thing, and then suddenly, it hit you.

“Wait, are you mad I’m leaving?” Your tone wasn’t accusatory as much as it was curious. Truthfully, when your parents had share the news that they were sending you to a finishing school, you had been devastated at the prospect but you tried your best to keep your true feelings from view. Your father had made it known that he had gone to great lengths to secure your spot and your momma got misty eyed when she spoke about how many doors this opportunity would open for you.

“No, I’m not mad you’re leaving,” he argued back and flinched at how unconvincing he sounded. You knew deep in your bones that you'd miss Steve the most when you were gone. No matter how fair you'd go or how'd long you'd be apart, you're sure you'd miss Steve.

“Steve, you know I’d rather be here, shooting cans than anywhere else, even that fancy school,” you cajole. It's a simple, earnest statement but as far as you could trust yourself saying without confessing your devotion.

“You say that now,” he petulantly threw himself down on a tree root and you moved to sit next to him, “but as soon as you make friends and meet new people, I’ll be dust.”

You laughed at the uncharacteristic display of self-pity. “You really think I’d find someone I would love more than you?”

The idea of it was so ludicrous you didn’t even realize the carelessness by which you threw out such hefty claims of affection. Of course, you loved Steve and he you, and while you were never scared to voice that to each other before, now the word meant something different—at least to you it did.

Your eyes shift down to your boots, hoping he didn’t pick up on the change in your heart.

“Not more, just different.”

“Different how?”

“You're going to find someone,” it was his turn to get flustered and glanced at the ground, “... someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

“Well, I want that to be you,” you responded, not thinking and far too quickly.

“No, I mean, someone you want to marry,” he spits out, exasperation being quickly replaced with embarrassment as his words sank into place.

You stalled at the implication your heartbeat becoming almost deafening. Steve was afraid you were going to go out and find someone else to marry and leave him behind. Was it possible that he was equally consumed by that same burning affection that had been sieging your heart for months?

Out of the two of you, you had always been the braver one. The one that always jumped in first, the one to take a risk on a whim. And, while it terrified you and made your voice small and wavering, you couldn’t help but say right back, “I want that to be with you, too.”

Steve beamed in response.

_______________

Tommy and Billy had beaten you and Max back to the Creel house. At least the bastards had the decency to look a little ashamed as they watched Max support your limping form through the threshold. Mostly, though they looked surprised.

“Thought the deputy had gotten you,” Billy whistles lowly through the toothpick that is perpetually resting in the corner of his mouth.

“He killed my horse,” you bemoan. “ Max had to fish me out of the ravine on her own, no thanks to you two.”

The blond man shrugs in response, “We couldn’t go back. Thems the rules, you know that.”

You do know that but you are miserable and tired and just looking for someone to blame for the life you had fallen into so you glare back.

Billy is unfazed by your glare and in a rare moment of kindness, offers to acquire a horse for you during his next round through the nearby ranches. This uncharacteristic show of pity makes you realize you probably look as bad as you feel and for a brief moment wish that Max hadn’t pulled you out of that ravine.

You manage to stumble onto your cot, body raked with pain and you lay there, unmoved until night comes and it’s not until the dark has truly settled and you are sure that no one could possibly see, that you begin to cry.

Silent tears stream down your face for your companion, your horse, the last thing you called your own. One more thing stolen away--and this time, by a ghost no less. A gift from your daddy when you had turned seventeen, her name plucked from one of your books on Greek mythology she had been your companion when you had felt most alone.

Calliope was the final reminder of a life long gone and now she’s just another thing you’re left mourning.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #steve Harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #Cowboy!Steve Harrington #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington image #stranger things imagine #outlaw!reader #Steve Harrington Smut

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milliesfishes · 6 months ago

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(requested)(@kayleigh--23) [fem reader] contains: slow burn, angst, death, depression, fire, mentions of sexual assault, non-consensual touch, abandonment, jealousy, mentions of violence, childhood friends to lovers, reader's nickname is 'Daisy'. pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: you and billy grew up together, and when he skips town, you're devastated. tragedy throws the two of you together again, and you're forced to confront your longtime feelings for him. author’s note: I switched up the timeline to work a little better with the story and the ages/stats may not be quite show-accurate but oh such is life. There's a little bit of Spanish in here that is not google translated, but I am not a native speaker so be warned. Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

For as long as you could remember, you'd been counted as one of the boys.

Your older brother Joe was the only sibling you had, and in the town the two of you grew up there weren't many options for friends your age. Most of the girls around those parts were socialites in training that were far older than you and the boys teased you too much, so you usually wound up going wherever your brother did.

Joe had an easygoing nature, and naturally he got on well with an abundance of the boys his age, both as a child and a young man. But his best friend by far was Billy, a dark-haired Irish immigrant who you'd known ever since his family moved to town. He and you had bonded at first over your respective brothers having the same name, then over riding and horses.

When you were younger you often tagged along when Billy and Joe would go off to play their games, and neither of them minded you. You usually kept to yourself anyways, playing games of silent make believe with pretty rocks you'd find along the trails. Sometimes they'd rope you into whatever they were doing, and you obliged, just happy to be a part of the fun.

As you all got older, Billy and Joe's games turned into handling guns, and you learned too, since your circles were so limited. You'd spend hours in the sun shooting cans off fence posts. It was a freeing thing- to be out there in the wilderness and not worry about what you should or shouldn't be doing.

The girls in town would poke fun at you for hanging out with boys but you paid them no mind for the most part. You'd take your worries over theirs any day.

The years were spent climbing trees and hopping fences to steal apples, always laughing, always content. You felt that you wanted for nothing. You had a father and brother who loved you, and a friend in Billy. What more could you possibly need?

Billy was over at your house for dinner a few times a week, laughing and joking with you and Joe like he'd been born into it. Your father was fond of him as well, treating him like one of his own. And you always thought of him like that too, like another brother, just as good as Joe.

But when you were sixteen and Billy was seventeen, something switched.

Joe was off doing something for your father, so it was just you and Billy that evening. He'd suggested riding since it was sunny out for the first time in a while, the rain having taken up a great deal of the springtime. You'd agreed and off the two of you went, exploring the prairie with the vigor only the young possess.

"Think you can race me to that tree?" you asked, nodding at it on a hill in the distance.

"You bet, but don't cry when ya lose Daisy." He called you by your nickname, grinning as he did. As a child you'd been obsessed with the little white flowers, picking them and putting them everywhere. He'd started calling you by that name and hadn't stopped.

"You wish!" Tugging on your horse's reins, you were off, the wind in your hair, a rush of adrenaline shooting through you as you kept your eyes on the horizon. Billy was fast, but you liked to think you were faster. You'd been riding this horse since you were young.

Easily you reached the tree before he did, and he groaned good naturedly, hopping off his horse and tying the reins to a low branch. You were about to do the same when he suddenly reached up, grabbing you around the waist, hauling you off the horse and spinning you around. You squealed in surprise and he stumbled, sending the two of you rolling down the hill. You tumbled together, shrieking with laughter as you reached the bottom.

He did the gentlemanly thing and made sure you landed on top of him, your face buried in his chest as you laughed.

"Well, I know you won but I damn sure didn't lose," he laughed, one of his arms landing on your back.

And in that moment, when you looked up, hair in your face, and saw Billy's bright blue eyes piercing yours, it hit you.

You loved him.

He reached over to tuck a strand behind your ear and your heart fluttered, a little smile growing. "I dunno, I think seeing your face when you tripped was the best prize of all."

He laughed and sat up, giving you a nudge with his shoulder. "I guess we're both winners then."

Then he stood up, offering you a hand. You took it, the feeling of his warm fingers making your stomach flip. He held your hand as you walked back up the hill, and you tied your horse on the same branch as his so the two of you could sit in the shade of a tree. You let him talk aimlessly, distracted by your new discovery.

Suddenly you were noticing how handsome he was, how his hair fell in little curls on his forehead, how his skin was slightly tanned with a freckle here and there, how his smile was endearingly just a little crooked. And his eyes, the color of a clear sky. You were wholly enamored by him, and he had no idea.

He chattered with you for a while as you mused over it all. As the two of you watched the sunset, he reached over and picked a wildflower, placing it in your hand.

"For you," he said, his charming smile directed at you.

You treasured that memory every night after that.

From that point on, you were unsure how to act around him. He would joke around with you like usual and you responded in the like, but now with subconscious battles waging. Did he like you too? Were you just a little sister to him? What would Joe think?

All the things you normally did with him and Joe were now overthought on your part. You felt self-conscious now about going swimming with them in the lake, because you'd be wearing your white chemise and they were shirtless in their underwear. The underdress stuck to your body when you swam, clinging to your newly grown breasts and wet skin. Joe didn't pay any mind to it of course, but you could see that Billy noticed. Does that mean something?

Shooting was still fun, but one time when you missed and he stepped in to correct your form, you felt your breath hitch at his body being so close to yours.

You nursed the crush on him for a year, trying desperately to act normal around him so he wouldn't notice.

When your father died suddenly, you didn't have time for such things anymore. Joe stepped up to take over the ranch, and you did too, balancing books and managing the workers. You lost several nights of sleep trying to learn how to run everything properly. Your mother was long gone and your brother was taking care of the more physical aspects, so the responsibility fell on you.

Billy still came around to help out, but you were so busy you barely noticed. A part of you mourned it, the lost time. Because even tragedy couldn't squash feelings.

One day, he came over with a bunch of wildflowers, smiling as he handed them over. He twisted his hat in his hands. "I just...I thought you could use somethin' pretty," he said, his blue eyes earnest.

You'd nearly burst into tears at the gesture, throwing your arms around his neck. He wrapped one arm around your waist, careful not to squash the blossoms. "Thank you," you murmured, pulling back and kissing his cheek. "They're beautiful."

There was that charming smile again, melting your heart. "Thought of you when I saw 'em, you know cause they're-" he cut himself off, looking down and shaking his head. "Anyway, I'm glad you like 'em Daisy."

"How's your mama doing?" you inquired softly. His mother was sick, last you'd heard, with the same illness that had taken his brother.

Billy sighed, his emotion making him seem a hundred instead of eighteen. "She's hangin' in there."

"Good," you said, giving him a half smile. "Give her a kiss for me. She's the sweetest lady around these parts."

"Yes'm," he nodded. Then, he reached one of his hands up to cup your cheek, looking into your eyes with all the sincerity you'd ever seen from him. His palm was rough, and you liked the feeling, unable to help leaning into it as you gazed up at him. He hesitated, then leaned in and kissed your cheek, the little bit of stubble he had scratching against your soft skin.

Your smile was pure. "Was that from your mama?"

"No," he said, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. "That was from me."

Billy kissed your forehead, holding your head close to his shoulder for a moment before pulling back. As he left, his fingers trailed down your cheek, chucking you under the chin. "I'll see ya 'round, Daisy."

And then he trudged down the stairs, off to his horse to leave. You stood there on the porch, leaning against the railing for a moment and watching him get on his horse. Lifting your fingers in a wave, you watched him tip his hat before riding away.

You were distracted all night, frequently looking over at the wildflowers you'd put in a vase on your desk. His kisses played over and over again in your head like they were the only thing in it. When Joe came home, he asked what had your head in the clouds and you just said you had a good day. No need for him to know his best friend was kissing you, even innocently.

Billy's mother passed away one lonely night, and your heart ached for him like it hadn't for anyone else. Whenever you saw him after that, he carried a subtle melancholy that one had to know him to notice.

Joe noticed, you knew, and so he distracted Billy, frequently meeting up with him and another friend of theirs. Jesse was an outrageous flirt, but good with a gun, and the other two boys liked his company well. You didn't know if what they got up to was legal, but you kept your thoughts to yourself, staying home and managing things there.

You'd catch a glimpse of Billy every now and then and remember that night on the porch, wondering if that was what he thought of when he saw you too. The nights were lonely when Joe was out with them, which was almost every night, and you longed for simpler times before anyone died. You yearned for the luxury of your young love for Billy because everything was different now. Childhood was over.

It seemed everywhere you looked a memory burst from your fingertips, the surfaces you touched more than senses. You mourned the loss of Joe, Billy and you. Those carefree wonderful children. It was all gone now.

On a rainy night in August, you were still in this haze, trapped in the past you could never reclaim. It was unusually chilly for this time of year, so you were sitting near the fireplace, trying to warm both your body and your heart. It was late. You'd been hoping Joe would come home soon but as the clock ticked, you realized it'd be another late night for him. You felt yourself growing tired, so you stood up, intending to go to bed.

Just as you started for the stairs, there was a heavy but frantic knock on the door, and you frowned. Who could be here this late?

You went to the door, opening it hesitantly, taken aback when you saw Billy on the other side. He was shivering, dripping water onto the porch. His eyes almost seemed like they were frozen in time, stuck on something he'd seen that'd change him forever.

"Billy?" you breathed, taking him by the hand and pulling him inside.

"'M sorry Daisy, 'm sorry for comin' here," he muttered, his teeth chattering.

You shushed him, bringing him to sit by the fire and spreading a blanket out for the two of you. He kicked off his boots before sitting beside you, his arms tight around himself to try and keep warm. The heat from the fire helped him loosen up after a moment, his shoulders relaxing, but only a little.

Your face shrouded with worry; you leaned closer to him. "Billy? What happened?"

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and looking like he was trying not to cry. You'd never seen him like this. Not when he'd fallen out of a tree when he was ten, not when he'd stepped on a bee the same year. Hell, not when his brother and mother died within such short time of each other. But now, now he was broken. He was falling apart just as you'd been for the past few months.

Wordlessly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tight, and he buried his face in your shoulder. His arms wound around your waist, holding you snug to him. The front of your dress was getting wet because he was still soaked, but you didn't care, your body falling perfectly into his as you did your best to comfort him.

After a while of silence, he pulled back, just looking at you. There were tears clinging to his eyelashes, and his eyes looked bluer than you'd ever seen them. His lips parted, and his gaze was intense. Apparently tonight was the night for firsts, because this was another way you'd never seen him. His hands came up to your face, touching your cheeks hesitantly like he was afraid you'd disappear. One of his hands fell back to your waist, and you shivered slightly at the touch, unable to help yourself.

Billy's other hand slid to the back of your head, in your hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands. He was looking at you like he'd never seen you before. You felt a pull in your heart, an urge to be closer, to be with him. It was impossible to remember what was lost now when he was right in front of you.

"Daisy." He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing softly, saying your name so quietly it felt like a prayer, a plea.

"Billy," you breathed, searching his eyes. You thought you knew every part of him, but you didn't know what he was going to do next.

So, when he kissed you, it was a supernova.

His lips crashed into yours, hot despite his trembling, needy in light of whatever the hell he'd been through that night. You'd never been kissed before, not like this. He was starving, desperate, and you had never wanted him more.

The hand in your hair pressed you closer to him, and you saw it all in his eyes when he pulled back slightly, the burning within him. Your hands framed his face, you leaned in for another kiss, and this time it didn't stop.

Before you knew it you were on your back, tearing at his shirt buttons. He shouldn't be wearing his wet clothes anyway. You did not think about Joe coming home, you did not think about the past for the first time in so long. His hands were on you too.

He caressed your body like he'd created it. Billy must have smoothed you out with his fingers, because you had never seen yourself the way you were reflected in his eyes. You had imagined doing this with him, of course, but here the line between fact and fiction became blurred. Is this real?

When he fastened his lips to the pulse point on your neck you gathered it was.

His fingers nimbly tugged at the top buttons of your dress, pushing open the folds to reveal your chest, which seemed to spur him on. Within minutes the garment was tossed elsewhere, his clothes were somewhere else, and his body was weighing on top of you in ways you never knew could be erotic. Skin against skin. Lips locked in a hungry dance. Limbs so tangled you didn't know whose was whose.

The windows fogged up from the rain, or your combined heavy breathing, you weren't sure when you were done. You were still knotted with him, his skin warmed from the fire. Billy traced shapes on your face with his calloused fingers, watching you tiredly with a fascination you'd never imagined could have related to you.

His gaze was very nearly adoring. You had dreamed of him looking at you like that. And now here the two of you were, side by side facing each other after doing the most intimate thing anyone could do. He was perfect in this light, the warmth from the fire making him glow.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his finger trailing lightly down your cheekbone. "I never thought anyone could be this beautiful."

"How do you know?" you whispered, not really knowing what you were asking.

He seemed to understand anyways, leaning forward to capture your lips with his again, his kiss tender and sweet.

You looked up at him with stars in your eyes. "What does this mean?"

Billy was quiet, holding your face in his hand. He pressed his lips to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips again and you knew. He loved you too.

He pulled you close against him, so your head was resting on his collarbone, tucked beneath his chin. His hand rubbed up and down your arm, soothing you into sleep. You felt more comfortable, more loved than you had in a long time. In the morning you'd ask him more, you decided as you drifted off. You didn't want to ruin the quiet peace you finally held in your hands, his underneath, supporting it.

Sometime in the night, your peace shattered, and when you woke up he was gone.

The fire was burnt out. It had stopped raining. You were still lying on the blanket in front of the fireplace, but someone had taken the other half and folded it over you. Billy.

You held the edge of the blanket to your nose. It still smelled like him. Confused and dazed, you sat up and looked around. Obviously, Joe hadn't returned home because he would have thrown a fit over you sleeping naked in front of the fire. Your dress was folded messily by your side. There were dried boot prints on the wooden floor, the only shred of evidence that someone else had been there.

If you hadn't been naked, you would have thought you made the whole thing up. Billy, whom you'd loved for years, had stumbled upon your doorstep and cried in your arms, then made love to you? The notion was impossible, and yet you remembered every second of it.

You sat awhile there, the blanket around your legs, just reliving the night, before you decided you had better get up before your brother came home.

You waited anxiously for Joe, jumping to your feet when he walked through the door, hanging his hat. It was almost dark. He greeted you, looking tired.

"Joe?" you asked, standing subtly near him as he sat down, running a hand over his face.

"Hm?" he mumbled.

"Have you seen Billy at all today?" you asked casually, fidgeting with your fingers.

He looked somber as he met your eyes. "Billy left town."

It felt like you'd been knocked off your feet. Your heart pounded in your ears, your face going pale. "What do you mean he left?" There was a hint of desperation in your voice, but you didn't care.

"He's gone, little," Joe said drily, looking up at you. He looked so defeated, and it broke your heart.

Still, your breath shuddered as the gravity of the situation hit you. Billy was gone. Really gone. You didn't ask Joe how he knew, just sank into a chair and blinked back the hot tears that stung your eyes. He'd kissed you, performed an act of love upon you and then left.

Joe took pity on you, putting his arms around you and hugging you tightly, despite the fact you knew he was hurting too. "I know," he said quietly. "I know."

He knew you missed him. You wanted him to come back. He didn't know what you and Billy had shared the night before, didn't know how truly his best friend had hurt you.

You clutched at Joe and let a tear slip down your cheek, coming to terms with it all. It was likely you'd never see him again.

And in that moment, you felt the last threads of the childhood you'd been grasping at slip into the darkness. It was quiet, which was somehow worse than screaming.

You gathered the papers on the desk, stacking them neatly in a pile and putting your pen down. Being hunched over a desk all day was certainly draining, and you knew some fresh air would be just the thing. It was a springy June day, and you'd been yearning to escape the confines of your work as long as you'd been awake.

The house was quiet, as it'd been for months. Joe, as a way to make a little more money, had joined Jesse's gang, assuring you it was temporary. You'd let him go; confident you could handle things at the ranch by yourself. And you were right. Things were smooth, the banality of it all welcome after the tumultuous few years you'd had.

Jesse's gang was stationed at a hideaway not terribly far from the ranch, but far enough that you didn't go often, preferring that Joe come to you. You always felt like you were walking into the lion's den when you visited, the stares of men who hadn't had women for a long while fixed on you.

So, you stayed. And everything was fine.

You mused to yourself as you left the house, saddling your horse and meandering aimlessly into the trees. The sun was hitting your skin just right, and you tilted your head back, enjoying the warmth. You stopped in a little grove you were fond of, tying your horse and wandering around as you were wont to do.

Coming across a wildflower, you bent and picked it, tucking it behind your ear. There was nobody to see how the blue looked against your hair, but you did it anyway, liking how the gesture felt.

As your eyes caught the other flowers scattered in the grass, your mind wandered to the day on the hill. When he'd picked and given you a flower that looked just like the one behind your ear. You thought of Billy often, sometimes in anger, sometimes in sadness. But today he was only a memory, something nice you got to hold for a little while but was forced to let go of.

You hoped he was well. You always would.

It was unclear how long you'd stayed out when you decided to go back, but that was the beauty of living on your own. You were on your time.

Maybe you'd be able to do some reading tonight, you pondered as you rode back, your horse trotting contently. Fun reading, not ranch reading. You looked forward to the quiet evening in store, happy at the thought of having some time for yourself.

You reached the threshold of the ranch and saw instantly that your plans had been set aflame. Literally.

Flames licked at the walls of your childhood house, consuming the only home you'd ever known. You watched in horror, hands gripping the reins, as a group of bandanaed men, hats pulled low over their faces, rounded up horses and cattle, effectively stealing your livelihood.

You were frozen, eyes wide with fear. Nonononononononono.

One of the men, wearing a blue bandanna, spotted you, and your mind realized it before your body did, so your actions were too slow. You tried to tug at the reins of your horse, but the man was already running toward you, grabbing the saddle and dragging you off.

You screamed, hoping against hope that someone nearby would hear. it was a shot in the dark. Nobody lived less than twenty miles away. The man clapped a hand over your mouth, silencing you and pulling you a little way from your horse. One of his companions, whose bandanna was red, came over to investigate, looking you over with something in his eyes you did not appreciate.

"What do we have here, eh?" he grinned, and you struggled, whimpering in protest, the other man holding your hands behind your back.

"We could probably do somethin' with her too," Blue said, leaning over to study your face. "Pretty little thing ain't she?"

"Don't suppose we could take a turn with her first?" Red wondered.

"They won't know the difference," Blue shrugged.

Red's grin grew terrifyingly wider, and he reached out, hands running over your sides, stopping at your breasts. "Yeahh, she'll work great."

Your breath quickened as you realized what they wanted to do with you, and you acted before you could think about it. You kicked the Red between his legs, sending him sprawling backwards, and used that distraction to bend your knee, lifting your leg backwards and doing the same to the Blue. He groaned in pain, letting go of your hands, and you stumbled to your horse, mounting her and kicking her into a run.

Your horse galloped across the prairie, the wind blowing your hair back, hot tears running in rivers down your cheeks as you charged to the only place you knew you could go.

You had to stop to sleep at one point, and it was a restless night hidden in the trees. For food you stole berries from the bushes, thankful for your childhood that'd taught you which ones were good. You used your hands to scoop water from the creek.

Mercifully, you made it through the night without being kidnapped, and continued on to Jesse's hideaway, making it there about mid- afternoon. Your legs were sore from being atop a horse for hours, but you were afraid to stop longer than you had to.

At last, you could see the hideaway over the hill, and you rode desperately, stealing through the entrance. You could see a man standing at the water pump, and you prayed it was Joe, or even Jesse, someone. You jumped from your horse, tying her up on a fence post and running to him.

As you got closer, you could see it wasn't Joe or Jesse, but you kept moving toward him. Even if it was a new recruit, he could tell you when your brother would be back. You could pick out his features the closer you got, his dark hair, his tall build. The man heard you approaching and turned to face you, his eyes widening when he saw who you were.

You halted in your tracks, a few yards away from him, your heart beating a steady rhythm against your breast, both from the ride and the shock.

"You're so beautiful", you remembered, the words echoing through the hallowed halls of your memory. "I never thought anyone could be this beautiful."

He took a careful step toward you. "Daisy?"

The name only he'd ever called you on his lips after forever of not seeing him was the breaking point, and you burst into tears, running into his arms.

Billy held you against his chest, his arms secure around your shaking body. He whispered soothing things to you as you cried and clung to him like a lifeline. He dug his nose into your hair, kissing the top of your head. As he did, you wondered if it was a way of comforting you, or a gesture because he'd missed you. Maybe it was both.

"Shh, Daisy," he soothed, one arm around your waist, rubbing your back, the other at the back of your head, holding you to him. "You're gonna make yourself faint. Deep breaths now, c'mon."

He demonstrated for you, breathing in deep through his chest, the motion moving your body with him. You copied him, feeling your heart rate slow down and your mind clear a little, giving you refuge from the utter panic that'd been raging for the past twenty-four hours.

"That's it, just like that," he muttered, running his hand through your hair. "Everything's alright, you're safe. I've gotcha."

You let yourself relax into him, breathing softly for a moment and savoring him. You'd missed Billy, you knew that. But being in his arms again reminded you just how much. The envelope you thought you'd thrown away was torn open.

"You wanna tell me what's got ya so upset now?" Billy murmured against you, rocking you back and forth slightly, still holding you tight to him.

Taking in a shuddering breath, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him. He lifted a hand and caught a tear that had trembled its way down your cheek. "It's alright Daisy. You can tell me."

"Another gang," you choked, remembering everything. "They set the house on fire. Took all the horses 'n cattle. There's nothing left..." At that last part, your voice went high and trailed off as a fresh wave of tears cascaded down your face. Billy paled, his eyes widening.

"Oh Daisy." He squeezed you tight to him, letting you cry. "Daisy, Daisy...'m so sorry. Musta been awful..." Billy pressed his lips to your hair again. "'S okay. You're safe now."

You stood there with him, realizing his arms were the only thing in the world that could comfort you. You never wanted to leave the safety of them. Oh, how you'd missed them, missed him.

"You left me Billy," you breathed, unable to help it.

"I know sweetheart," he said, the term of endearment slipping from his lips as if he'd always said it. It warmed your heart.

"You left Joe too."

"I did."

"We needed you."

"I needed you too," was his quiet response. You looked up from his chest, searching his eyes when suddenly you heard a voice behind you.

"Who's this?" When you turned to see who it was, through teary eyes you saw a woman with brown hair holding a pot standing a few feet away. You found her rather pretty, but still furrowed your brow, confused. Joe had never mentioned a woman around, and you'd certainly never seen her before.

Billy told the woman your name, and maybe it was your imagination, but his arms seemed to stiffen a bit around you, holding you in closer. "Her brother's Joe."

"Ah, I see," the woman said, eyeing you. You gave her a little smile, not really in any position to meet new people. Still, you wanted to be friendly. It wasn't her fault you were homeless.

"Daisy this is Barbara," Billy said, nodding at the woman, who was still studying you. Her eyes lingered on the way you clung to Billy, seeming to pick up on the familiarity between the two of you.

"Hello," you said shyly, still wary of letting go of Billy. He didn't seem to mind, running his hand soothingly through your hair.

She didn't say hello back.

Billy looked up into the distance, and you heard the distinct sound of several hooves on the earth. The gang was back.

You let go of Billy and turned to watch them ride down the hill, spotting Joe instantly among them. Jesse was at the head, whooping and hollering as was usual. Billy kept a protective hand on your shoulder as the gang dismounted, seeming to know without you telling that you didn't exactly feel safe around most of them.

Joe ran up as soon as he saw you, pulling his bandana down. "What're you doin' here little?" Then he saw the tear tracks on your face. "What happened?"

He held out his arms and you fell into him. Joe hugged you tightly, albeit confusedly. "You shouldn't be here, you oughtta head back home-"

"Ain't no home to head back to Joe," Billy cut him off, folding his arms, his eyes on you.

Joe looked down at you, frowning. "What's he mean?"

You told him what happened, and his face fell. Even if he'd been absent lately, he'd grown up in the same house, held the same memories you did. He hugged you again. "I'm sorry you had to see that, little."

You sniffled, shaking your head. "I'm just glad I got away in time."

"Me too," Joe said, concernedly looking over you for injuries. "Ride over was alright? Didn't hit any trouble?"

"No," you shook your head again. "I had to stop and sleep, but when I rode in Billy was right there and-"

You'd looked over at Billy as you said it, but you cut yourself off when you saw his face. He wasn't watching you anymore. His eyes were on Barbara, who was in the middle of a nice long kiss with Jesse.

That look. You knew it not only because you'd spent half your life reading him, but because you'd felt it before, when you'd seen him flirt harmlessly with girls in the town you grew up. Jealousy. And a tinge of heartbreak. Mixed with that, hidden slightly beneath that was something else. Another thing you'd seen before. That slight, subtle look of possession.

You'd only seen it one time, and that time happened to be a certain night by the fireplace, right after something you'd only dreamed of sharing with him before.

And that's when it hit you.

He'd slept with her.

Billy had offered you his room, but you'd refused, opting to wait in Joe's for him. You didn't want to look at Billy right now.

When your brother finally came in, you sat up straight, looking at him expectantly. He held up a dress. "Took a bit of convincing, but this is one of Barbara's. You can wash the one you're wearing." He scratched his neck. "Me 'n some of the boys'll go back to the house 'n see if there's anything to salvage in a bit. Just in case."

You took it from him, holding it in your lap. It was blue, not the most flattering but you didn't care.

"Any news?" you asked softly, looking up at him.

"We sent a letter," Joe said, sitting down next to you. "All there's to do now is wait. But don't hold your breath. The law ain't fast around here."

"Thank goodness for you," you muttered, and he half-grinned, nudging your shoulder.

"Yeah, that's the way we like it," he said, looking down at his hands.

You were quiet for a moment before you asked, "When did Billy get here?"

Joe hesitated. "'Bout a week ago. Jesse found him passed out in the desert. Left him here with Barbara to get him healthy again while we rode out." He looked up at you. "I was gonna tell you."

"It's okay," you said, meaning it. "There wasn't any time to tell me between you leaving and...this." A familiar wave of grief passed over you as you thought about everything again. "When did Barbara join the gang? I've never seen her before."

"Jesse found her two months back," Joe explained. "Took a real liking to her. She was runnin' away from her folks. Seems they ain't nice people."

"And Barbara and Jesse're...?" you let your question trail off.

Joe laughed. "Yeah. If what I hear through the walls is any indication."

"Ah." You didn't tell Joe what you knew about her and Billy, even though hearing this confused you. Billy must have slept with her while the rest of the gang was gone. Joe wouldn't know why it had any significance to you.

Joe nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder. "You can stay here for a while, little, until we get things figured out. I'm sure Barbara'd be happy to have some help 'round here."

You weren't too sure Barbara would be happy to have anything to do with you at all, but you didn't tell Joe this, instead forcing a smile and nodding. "Okay."

"Good," Joe said, standing up from the bed, the loss of his weight making the springs creak. "I'll leave ya to get changed." He shut the door behind him.

You peeled your short-sleeved dress from your body, also in a light blue color. It'd been one of your favorites, and you were thankful it'd been spared from the fire.

Barbara's dress fit you well. It wasn't as stylish as yours, but that was the furthest thing from your mind. At least it was clean.

You took your dress outside to wash, scrubbing it of dirt and sweat and whatever else you'd encountered on the way over. When it was hanging out to dry, you wandered to a nearby tree, leaning against it and looking out at the plains for a moment. It was a sunny day, and you enjoyed it the best you could despite the circumstances.

The tree's branches were low enough for climbing, so you hauled yourself up, legs swinging as you sat on a branch midway from the top, leaning against the trunk. The bark was scratchy against your skin, but you paid the sensation no mind, just staring at the clear sky.

Footsteps crunched through the grass below you. You didn't turn your head to see who it was. Call it a sixth sense but you always knew when he was near.

Billy scaled the tree to sit on the same branch, leaning back on another one just a little higher than yours. Of course he'd want to talk to you.

"Joe 'n the others left for the house," he said, but you didn't turn your head, still watching the clouds.

"I didn't stay to see how far the fire got," you said quietly. "I don't know if there's anything worth saving."

"Still." Billy shifted. "They'll be back tomorrow mornin'."

You turned your body to face his, so your back was fully against the trunk. In your frenzy earlier, you hadn't gotten a good look at him. He'd grown in his time away from you. He seemed sturdier, surer of himself. His hair was a little bit longer, his skin a little more weathered. And he was handsomer than ever. "You didn't go with 'em?"

"They figured I'd best not show my face 'round those parts just in case," he said, half smiling. "Y'know, cause of last time I was there."

You were quiet, still looking at him, and his smile dropped. "You don't know."

"Last time I saw you was when we..." you trailed off, biting your lip. "You didn't tell me anything, just-"

"I'm sorry for that, Daisy," he mumbled, looking at his feet.

"Sorry for sleeping with me?" you asked, your voice's tone heightening pathetically.

"No," Billy shook his head instantly. "Not that...never that. I'm sorry for takin' advantage of you. For not tellin' you what was goin' on."

"What happened?" you asked, your voice desperate. You looked at him with all the hurt that had festered in your being for months. "You slept with me and then left. I was so worried..." your breath hitched, and you looked away.

"Daisy," he murmured, reaching for your hand, but you moved it to your face, running a hand over it. Billy sighed, and you could feel it, the weight of whatever he'd done, wherever he'd been. "The night before...Jesse'd-" he cut himself off for a moment. "Jesse'd talked me into doin' somethin' real stupid. Somethin' that got me arrested. I'd escaped from jail the night I came to see you."

You turned to look at him, your eyes wide. Given the ranch had been a little way from town, you didn't often hear of news like that, mostly keeping to yourself. Of course you wouldn't have known. "Billy..."

"I'm a wanted man, Daisy," Billy breathed, his blue eyes piercing yours. "I've been in another county for a while, and then I got into some more trouble and left. Got robbed somewhere in the desert and Jesse found me 'n brought me here. That's all there is to it." He brought his hand to your face, then through your hair so he was holding you there. The feeling of his big hand there was familiar, comforting.

You sniffled a bit, closing your eyes for a moment to feel it. Everything made sense now. The way he'd come to you, the reason he'd left. But it'd still hurt you.

"That night," you said softly, your eyes still glued to his. You couldn't have pulled away if you tried. "What we did...did it...mean anything to you?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his eyes earnest. "Of course it did Daisy...I'd never..." he swallowed. "You've been on my mind a whole lot since I left."

His words made your heart soar with hope, but then you remembered Barbara, and it plummeted back to earth. The realization lowered your voice. "I've thought about you too Billy."

"Yeah?" he asked, eyes hopeful.

"Yeah." You looked down. "I missed you."

Billy wordlessly moved closer to you on the branch, drawing you into his arms. He kept his hand in your hair, his favorite place it seemed. He held you to him for a bit, and you relaxed for the first time in a day.

Holding you against him still, he asked, "What exactly happened at the ranch Daisy?"

"I already told you." Your words were muffled against his chest.

"Yeah, but I know that ain't all that happened," Billy said, pulling you back a little so he could look at you. "I know you. There's somethin' else."

You thought with a tiny shudder of the men who'd grabbed you, and what they would have done to you if you hadn't gotten away. "No. I told you everything."

"Daisy." His voice was firm, and you knew he meant it.

"Billy," you said back, leaning into his chest again. "I don't want to talk about it."

He was quiet for a moment, then he nodded. "Okay." You were thankful he didn't ask any more questions.

You spent the night in Joe's room since he was absent, and all the while you thought about Billy. And Barbara. Was she in his bed right now, or was he in hers? Would you wake up to the sounds of them doing something you didn't even want to think about? Eventually you fell asleep, tortured by what you'd make up.

When you woke in the morning, you donned your dress that had dried out over the porch yesterday and went outside, looking for anyone. You spotted Barbara at the water pump and made your way over, standing shyly in front of her. "Hello."

She looked at you, giving you a once over that seemed to be her habit. "Hello."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" you asked, fidgeting with your hands behind your back. She intimidated you, and it wasn't just because you knew about her and Billy. There was a certain element about her that caused you to retreat into your shyer tendencies.

Barbara paused for a moment, thinking. "You can fry the eggs in the kitchen for the three of us. And wake Billy. He's a deep sleeper."

You knew that, and for some reason it hurt that she did. Nodding, you turned around and went right back to the house, slightly bothered by your interaction with her.

When you got to the kitchen you decided to make the eggs first, hoping the smell would rouse Billy from sleep. When the food was plated and he still hadn't appeared, you sighed and went to his bedroom, the only door that was closed.

He was shirtless as he slept, lying on his stomach with his head turned to the side. The sheets were pulled to his waist, revealing the messy outline of his legs. Billy looked pretty when he was asleep, but you always thought him pretty.

You sat on the bed, contemplating lying down with him. in your experience shaking him rarely, if ever worked. Still, you tried, and unsurprisingly it was not successful.

So, you went with your other idea lying down facing him. Your hand reached out to trace your fingers down his arm. He took in a sharp breath, and instantly you knew he was awake. Billy's arms reached out, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his chest. "Daisy," he murmured without opening his eyes.

"You gotta wake up Billy," you said softly, putting a hand on his warm chest. He opened his eyes, almost seeming surprised that you were there.

"'M I dreamin'?" he mumbled sleepily, and you smiled, shaking your head.

"Don't think so." You ran your fingers up and down his arm again. He'd filled out, his muscles were tauter.

He shook his head, seeming to remember something. "Right." Billy loosened his hold on you, but still didn't let go.

His hair was a mess, little dark curls matting his forehead. Your eyes roved over him, catching all the familiar details you'd picked up on from your years together. The way his hair curled by his ears. The tiny birthmark under his jaw. His thick, dark eyelashes.

You ached to touch him, but you didn't, letting him hold you a little longer before you heard the front door open. Barbara was back. Sitting up, you rubbed his shoulder. "C'mon, get up. We've got eggs."

Billy grumbled a bit, pawing at you. "Couple more minutes?"

"Uh uh, get up," you said, getting off the bed and leaving, shutting the door behind you.

Barbara was in the kitchen when you came back, eating already. She nodded at you. "Thanks."

You gave her a tiny smile. "You're welcome. Least I can do for you lettin' me stay."

She half smiled dryly at you. "It'd be a sorry sight if I kicked Joe's sister out."

You didn't know what to say to that, so you were thankful when Billy walked in, wearing a blue striped shirt. It was one of your old favorites, and you wondered if he'd known that. Likely not.

"Thanks Daisy," he said, grabbing his portion. You all lingered in the kitchen, eating quietly, the only sound being forks scraping against plates.

Barbara put her clean plate on the counter first. "I'm gonna go finish chores. Billy? You comin'?"

He paused. "I was gonna take Daisy for a ride. That okay or do ya need help?"

She looked from him to you, and you looked down at your plate, not knowing if you should say something. "No. That's alright, I'll manage."

And with that she left the kitchen. You looked over at Billy. "Are you sure she doesn't need help?"

"Nah, all this week by the time I got up she usually had everything mostly done," Billy said, putting the last forkful of eggs in his mouth.

"Are you sure?" you asked nervously, looking at the door she'd gone out of. "I'd feel bad if-"

"Daisy, it's alright," Billy assured you, seeing your empty plate and taking it, stacking it on Barbara's. "After what you've been through, you're allowed to have a day, alright? 'Specially if your work habits haven't changed since I last saw you."

You smiled at that. "I do kinda get carried away."

"I know," he said, taking your hand. "C'mon, let's go. I miss ridin' with you."

You let him pull you to the horses, unable to say no to him, but also because you'd missed it too.

Mounting your beloved horse, you petted her mane softly. She must've been tired after the long ride here, but now after a good night's sleep she nickered softly at your touch, and you smiled fondly.

You guided your horse to follow Billy's, riding through the open hills and into a forest-like area, with trees and wildflowers blooming from the earth. It was beautiful, and you enjoyed your surroundings as you followed him. It was funny to think that just a day ago you'd been doing this exact thing, with no hope of seeing him again. But now here you were.

Keeping to the routine the two of you had always followed, you tied up your horses and went to walk through the trees together.

"You still ride like this often or did I jump the gun and assume you did?" Billy asked, striding alongside you through the grass.

"I do, pretty often now that I-" you cut yourself off. "When I lived alone."

"You were really livin' by yourself?" Billy asked, peering down at you as you walked.

"Yeah," you said. "Since Joe joined the gang."

"I see," Billy said, keeping his tone even. But you knew he objected to the principle of it. A woman living alone with no male protection.

"I've been fine," you said, trying to convince both of you. "I keep to myself, y'know? I've always liked that."

"Yeah," he said. His eyes looked sad. "But I imagine it still got lonely."

You were quiet for a moment before responding. "In a way."

He half smiled, looking down as you reached a hill, steadying his motions so he wouldn't fall. "Is that what you've been up to the past little bit? Ridin' and bookkeepin'?"

"Pretty much," you said. "I keep a quiet life. Not like you at all, I'm sure."

He chuckled lightly. "It ain't at all like you're imagining, I'm sure."

"Not from what I've heard," you smiled. "Joe filled me in a bit. Billy the Kid, huh?"

"Hey now," he grinned. "It's William H. Bonney now for all intents and purposes."

"What's the H stand for?" you asked, raising your eyebrows teasingly.

"That's enough outta you," he pushed your arm lightly, and you laughed. The two of you stopped under a tree, sitting down in the shade for a bit. Billy settled in next to you, bending down and resting his chin on your shoulder.

You picked a blue wildflower, twirling the stem between your fingers. It was the same color as the dress you'd been loaned, lighter than the one you had on now, lighter than Billy's shirt. "Barbara..."

"What about her?" he asked, looking at you, his chin remaining on your shoulder.

"I like her," you said, and to your surprise, as you said it you found it was true. Despite her stiffness you appreciated what she'd been through, how she'd been able to find her place here.

"You like everyone Daisy," Billy half-smiled, leaning back against the tree.

"I mean it," you said, mirroring his actions and turning on your side to face him. "She's lovely. I can see why you...like her."

"Why'd you say it like that?" Billy asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You were quiet for a moment, contemplating whether or not you should go there. "I know you slept with her."

He turned his head fully to face you and you looked down at your flower again. Billy used his finger to tilt your chin up. "Daisy how'd you-?"

"The way you looked when she kissed Jesse yesterday," you said softly. "I know you Billy. And that's just how you looked at me after..." You trailed off and looked away.

Billy's arm around you stiffened, but he didn't take it away. "You're right. It did happen once. But...I dunno Daisy," he said tiredly. "I was alone with her after I almost died. The heat of the moment got to me. I didn't know she was with Jesse. And now that you're here-" he paused. "It don't mean what you think it does."

You shook your head. "You're not one to even kiss someone for no reason Billy. I know you care about her."

"She saved my life, of course I care about her," he breathed, meeting your eyes. "But not like you, Daisy. Never like you."

You looked down, feeling emotional. "But you left me."

"Daisy, I had to," he pleaded. "I was wanted, hell I'm still wanted-"

"But you could have told me something, anything instead of making me feel like a warm body," you said, drawing back from him. His arm fell from around you, and he looked at you for a moment, seeming surprised.

But then he nodded somberly. "You're right. You're completely right Daisy. I'm sorry."

Your smile was barely there. "I understand Billy."

Then with that you stood up, going to find your horse.

Joe returned with more than you thought he would have, telling you the fire had consumed a lot of the first floor but not the second. With no structure to stand up on, it had collapsed of course, but he was still able to salvage a few of your dresses, and some of your books.

You'd been thrilled at that, relieved to be able to give Barbara her dress back, thanking her profusely. She'd only smiled tightly and taken it away to wash.

Joe had been right about the law being slow. A week from the fire and you had yet to hear back from them concerning the damage to the property. So, in the meantime, you waited.

In the weeks that followed, you insisted on helping Barbara with the chores and she reluctantly let you. You took your horse out for a ride every day, sometimes without Billy, but more often with.

He started leaving with the gang to help out on jobs. You were surprised to find yourself missing him in the time he was gone. Since Joe was back, he offered you his bed, but you didn't take him up on it, still wary of whatever was happening with Barbara. No matter how casual it may or may not have been, you didn't want to upset her. Even though you could steadily feel old feelings gnawing at you, growing stronger.

You tried to keep a little distance, but it was impossible, his allure drawing you to him naturally. He'd accompany you everywhere; to the well, on your rides. Wherever you were, Billy could usually be found. You knew the rest of the gang noticed, though nobody commented on it. The weeks passed peacefully.

Until one night, when you awoke in a fit of adrenaline and sweat, a dream that felt more like a memory dancing in front of your eyes.

The men...the way they grabbed you...what they would have done to you...

You hugged your arms around yourself, shivering with tears. Even though you now knew it was just a dream, the weight of what had happened was collapsing you. You hadn't told anyone about it, even though you knew Billy was onto you.

Your head whipped to Joe, asleep in his bed. He'd offered it to you of course, but you'd declined just as you had with Billy, not wanting to upheave the house any more than you had.

Joe was the best of brothers to you. Still, you didn't want to tell him about the other events of that day. So, you stood up and went to the hallway, hoping the movement would calm your pounding heart. It didn't, which made you panic even more. You ran your hands over your arms, your breathing not slowing down. The house was quiet, so you did your best to keep it that way.

It became evident quickly that you wouldn't be able to calm yourself on your own. You needed someone near you.

Your feet carried you to the room before you knew it, opening the door and shutting it quietly behind you. When you turned, you were surprised to see Billy sitting up in his bed, the lantern by his bed lit. He frowned in surprise when he saw you. "Daisy, what-" he caught your fearful expression, your heaving chest. Then he opened his arms, recognizing the situation. "C'mere."

Giving a little whimper, you rushed to him, collapsing into his arms. Billy held you tight to him, and when his hand found its usual place behind your head you nearly sobbed with relief. He opened his knees so you could lie between them, against his bare chest as you cried softly.

"Shh Daisy, easy, easy," he murmured, smoothing his hand over your back. "Alright sweetheart, you're safe. You're safe. I've gotcha."

It was the second time he'd used that specific term of endearment, and you clung to him tighter because of it. Billy rubbed your back and rested his cheek against the top of your head. When your crying slowed down, he whispered, "Atta girl, keep it steady f'me? That's it, sweetheart, that's it."

You laid in the comfort of his arms in a haze afterwards, making sure your tizz was well and truly passed. Billy turned you on your side, facing him as he turned on his. He held you in his gaze, one of his arms wrapped loosely under you, the other on your arm, fingers going up and down in a soothing manner.

He reached out that hand, tentatively, and traced your face ever so gently. His roughened finger trailed over your cheek, your hairline, then down your nose. His eyes like the sky followed the path. His palm ended up on your cheek, and you leaned into it, your eyes locked with his.

"Daisy..." he murmured, his thumb rubbing your cheek. You knew he wanted you to tell him what had happened, why you had stumbled in crying.

"Bad dream," you whispered pathetically, closing your eyes.

Billy said nothing for a moment, and when you opened your eyes, he touched his forehead to yours briefly, a gesture of comfort that worked. "What about?"

You hesitated, sniffling lightly. Telling him sounded dreadful, but it was weighing on you so much that you felt you had no choice. "The day of the fire."

"Ah," Billy nodded respectfully, tucking your hair behind your ear. The more he touched you the better you felt.

"Not about the fire itself though," you said softly.

"Hm?" he prompted, and you wanted to kiss him right then for letting you tell what you wanted.

You closed your eyes briefly before continuing. "The day of the fire...the men who started it..." your voice was becoming higher and more hysterical as you continued, your words pushed together as you tried to get them out as quickly as possible. "They grabbed me...tried to take me somewhere. And one of them touched me-" your voice hitched as more tears fell down your cheeks.

"Oh baby," Billy murmured, and he brought you closer to him, his lips meeting your forehead. Him calling you baby only made you feel safer, more loved. He gathered you closer, so you were pressed right up against him, your hand on his chest. If his hand hadn't already found its place on the back of your head, you would have guided it there. You loved the weight of it, the way it held your face to his chest.

Your hand slid around his chest, under his arm and onto his back so you could hold onto him as well. He nudged his nose against your head, planting another kiss there. Then another. Then another.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart," he muttered, and you relished the feeling of his big hands on your body with the sole purpose to comfort you. "I'm sorry nobody was there. I'm sorry I wasn't there-"

"It's not your fault Billy," you said, tears still adorning your voice. "You couldn't have known-"

"No, Daisy," he said slightly more firmly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you all this time. I'm sorry I left, I'm sorry we shared something so special and then I hurt you because of it. I'm not sorry we did it, but I am sorry for how I was."

You removed your hand from his back, settling it on his own cheek. Your other hand was wedged between your chests, resting against the sheets. "It's okay Billy. It's all okay now."

He took your hand off his cheek and pressed his lips to your fingers. A wisp of a smile made its way onto your face, and you cuddled close to him. Billy held you tightly in his arms. In that moment, you felt as if he could keep the bad dreams away with only that.

From that night on, you slept in his bed.

You'd start out in your usual place on the floor in Joe's room. Then after you fell asleep, you'd slip from the spot and quietly sneak down the hall to Billy's bed and Billy's arms. There were no more nightmares after that.

It was all very innocent. You'd lay side by side, facing each other, limbs tangling tightly. He'd nudge a few kisses against your forehead soothingly. You'd take his hand in yours and guide it to the back of your head if it wasn't there already. And then the you both would fall asleep, nothing bad to report in the morning.

Billy had never been an early riser. He was always the last one to wake up, always finding some kind of excuse to sleep in. It was something you and Joe had teased him for.

But almost every morning you woke to him watching you, his oceans of eyes sleepy, his hair was a mess. He was so pretty in the morning, with the sunlight spilling through his window onto his skin. The first day this happened you realized that this was how you'd imagined you'd wake up on that night you'd spent together.

Those thoughts had been little bits of gold you'd stored in your heart, secrets you thought would die with you. But now they were real.

And even though most mornings he awoke first, some mornings you did.

On that rare occasion, you'd snuggle deeper into his arms, and he'd stir slightly, his arms tightening around you. But most of the time it was him, and you wondered if his habits had changed when he was away. But thinking back to your first morning here, you knew they hadn't.

On a Tuesday about two months into your stay, it was one of those usual mornings, and you were sprawled on your side, facing away from him. Your hair was spread out on the pillow, your legs tangled with his. You awoke to a shuffling on the bed, and then an arm twined around you and pulled you closer to Billy's warm chest.

"You're too far away," he mumbled sleepily. You turned in his arms to lie on your side and face him. Billy was on his back, looking down at you with a fond smile. He blinked sleepily, and you moved closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek onto him.

"Better?" you propped your chin up on his arm.

"Better," he grinned.

You were just about to settle back into him when the door opened suddenly to reveal Joe on the other side. His eyes widened in shock when he saw you cuddled in Billy's arms, in Billy's bed.

"The hell?" Joe looked utterly confused. A little betrayed, maybe.

Sitting up, you attempted to explain. "I know what this looks like-"

"Billy why're you in bed with my sister?" Joe folded his arms, eyebrows raised, tone sharp.

You looked from Joe to Billy, worried something violent would happen. But finally, Billy responded. "Daisy's been havin' nightmares. I was only makin' sure she slept."

"You have?" Joe frowned. "You ain't ever had many nightmares before little."

It was true. Before the incidents surrounding the fire, you hadn't even dreamed often. You didn't want to tell Joe what happened, but you couldn't lie to him. So, you merely nodded.

Joe's face softened. "'M sorry little. You coulda told me, y'know?"

You bit your lip and nodded again.

"But I understand," your brother affirmed, nodding at Billy. "So long as there's no funny business, yeah?"

"None," Billy nodded back. Despite all this, you knew Joe trusted Billy with you, which was saying a lot. Your brother had a habit of being overprotective.

Joe looked between the two of you again and nodded once more, leaving with that and shutting the door behind him. From that point on you went straight into Billy's room every night.

He became a symbol of comfort to you. You knew his arms were open when you needed them. Things fell back into the way they were before, only this time there was something else between you two.

You felt it in every facet of your being with him. When you'd go for walks in the hills together. When you'd wake up in his arms. When he'd shake a little pepper over your eggs before giving you your plate because he knew you liked them that way. When he'd join you under the shade of a tree and rest his head in your lap. Billy was filling in the cracks that had formed over the months. He was patching you whole.

It was unclear if anyone else noticed, but you knew they didn't not notice. The two of you were drawn together. When Billy would come home from jobs with the gang you'd run to him first. Joe would make a little quip about it before hugging you, a cheeky, knowing smile gracing his lips.

Barbara seemed immune to all of this. She continued as she always did, but you still felt bad, like you'd taken something from her. Even though the first person she'd run to was always Jesse.

You tried to let this information soothe you.

The ranch was finally attended to, and you and Joe made the decision to sell the land. It made you a pretty penny despite all the damage from the fire. That night you'd laid silently beside Billy, too sad to say anything. You'd grown up there, hell, Billy had practically grown up there too. But as you thought of the last somber months you'd spent there; you knew it hadn't been the land that made that time special.

You still had what had made it special.

Jesse became anxious about the location of the gang, so he determined it was time to leave the hideaway behind and set out for another town. You welcomed the change, packing away what little you had and following them.

If you were being honest, as long as you had Billy and Joe you knew you'd be fine. So, you left in good spirits. Barbara parted ways with the gang then, taking a job as a schoolteacher in another town. You knew the two of you would never be close, but you still parted with a smile, and a sincere thank you for all she'd done. Maybe it was your imagination, but her smile seemed a little more genuine as you said goodbye.

"People can't help but like ya Daisy," Billy said when you told him about it. He was riding alongside you behind everyone, the hideaway in the distance behind you. "You're sweet. Not likin' ya feels like hurtin' a butterfly."

The analogy made you smile, a little blush gracing your cheeks. The way he looked at you and talked to you made you feel rare.

Once you got to town, Joe came to a conclusion. While the rest of the gang kept rented rooms at a nearby inn, the two of you used the money from the ranch to buy a nice little piece of land nearby, with an old house already on it. You wouldn't have minded staying at the inn, but Joe insisted, saying he wanted something permanent for his sister. Especially now that they all had steady work. And unlike in the past, it was honest.

Billy seemed especially happy about that, chattering eagerly about how good it'd be now that they were working with the law, not against it. It was endearing how excited he was. Despite the picture wanted posters painted of him, he had a gentle heart, and he never wanted to do any wrong.

The only thing you didn't like about this new setting was that you no longer slept beside him, but your nightmares had disappeared into memories, and you determined you'd be fine. Even though you missed his warmth as the fall bled into winter.

He was still a fixture in your life. His presence was still constant. The gang was all at Joe's and your house often, but Billy was there individually even more.

It was a funny thing, what being around him so often did for you. Previously, you had remembered the childhood love you'd had for him, and it had been painted blue. But in the love you felt for him now, you could feel what you'd had before at the roots. It was a flower that you'd thought had shriveled up and died, but now you realized it was simply dormant, waiting to bloom.

And the more you thought about it, the more you realized you wanted it to.

It was on your mind one night when Joe and the gang were in the kitchen. You and Billy had ventured out to the fireplace, kneeling close to it and talking. It was eerily similar to that night, the one you'd thought of lately more often than you wanted to admit.

"Do ya think you'll stay here?" Billy wondered, bending his knees to rest his arms on them.

"I don't see why not," you said thoughtfully, his blue eyes drawing yours to them like they always did. "Joe's here, you're here...I can see myself being happy here."

"I think ya are happy here Daisy," Billy said, a little smile coming to his face as he said it. "I ain't seen you this happy in a while."

He was right. You hadn't been this content since your father died. "it's the same for you Billy," you commented, shifting closer to him for warmth. "You're not as restless as you used to be."

"Well, no," he said, grinning as he looked into the fire. "There's lotsa reasons for that."

"Like...?" you prompted, tilting your head playfully.

"Well for starters, I ain't breakin' the law to make money no more," Billy said, and you nodded. "There ain't no pressure to move around so much. But also..." he turned his head to look at you. "Havin' you around. Havin' Joe around. It's made all the difference."

You were quiet for a moment, the sentiment warming you more than the fire ever could. "Having me around?"

"'Course," he said, reaching out and tugging on your arm to bring you closer to him. One of his arms slid around your waist and you rested your head on his shoulder. "Ya mean a lot to me Daisy. Ya know that, right?"

"It's still nice to hear it," you smiled, settling into his side. "You...you mean a lot to me too. Always have."

"Yeah?" he looked pleasantly surprised. "Well, you're a sweetheart anyways. My sweetheart."

The way he said it implied something else, but you didn't correct him, only lifting your head from his shoulder and looking into his eyes again. The fire was reflecting off his face, making him look softer. You looked from his eyes to his lips. There was that magnetic draw again. "And are you mine?"

He paused, looking like he'd been caught doing something, but then he slowly nodded, searching your eyes. "I've always wanted to be yours."

Your heart fluttered and you thought for a moment you were in a dream. But when he brought his hand to your cheek, you knew you weren't.

Billy acted before you could, leaning forward and gently pressing his lips to yours. His hand slid to its spot in your hair. You melted.

His kiss was brief, but it imprinted itself on your being. You leaned into it, your hand resting on his chest as your lips moved against his. It was so impossible, all of it, and yet.

When he pulled back, you stayed in your haven between his arms. He pressed one, then two light kisses against your soft smile and you saw stars.

Then Joe shouted something from the other room and Billy looked up, sighing and shaking his head. He stood up, bringing you with him. His lips found your brow lightly, a silent promise that you'd talk about this later. Then he took your hand and lead you into where everyone else was. It was good he had a hold on you, because you weren't sure you could have found your way there on your own. The kiss had left you engrossed in a dreamy haze.

He sat at the table with everyone else, and when he saw there weren't any open chairs, pulled you down to sit on his thigh. Joe raised an eyebrow, but that was all. You were content to lean against Billy for the rest of the night.

It was hard to sleep when you tried after everyone left. Billy hadn't kissed you goodbye, but he'd held you close for a bit and said he'd see you tomorrow.

All these months, all this time, you hadn't been sure if he'd held onto the feelings of the past. But you supposed it didn't matter now, because he felt this way right now. He wanted you close to him as you did.

The next day you woke early. You decided to get a few errands done as a way to divert yourself. You'd see Billy later.

It was a pleasant ride into town. The winter sun was warm on your bundled up frame, and you enjoyed it. The snowstorms of late had often kept you indoors, so it was nice to have this pocket of time.

You tied up your horse and went into the general store, a list prominent in your head. Grain, candles, matches-

You halted in your tracks when you opened the door.

There were already customers inside. But you recognized them.

"Don't suppose we could take a turn with her first?" Red wondered.

"They won't know the difference," Blue shrugged.

Red's grin grew terrifyingly wider, and he reached out, hands running over your sides, stopping at your breasts. "Yeahh, she'll work great."

Before one of them could turn around and see you, you stepped out, heart pounding a hole into your chest. Your ears were ringing with the memory. The world seemed to spin. Why are they here? How did they get here?

Putting a hand to your heart to try and calm it, you looked around, spotting the inn the gang was staying at. Billy, you needed Billy.

You ran across the street, opening the door and realizing you didn't know which room he was staying in. As you wandered in frantically you found it didn't matter. He was sitting at a table with Charlie, talking about something, his back to you.

Charlie saw you though, and must have noticed your distress, because he nudged Billy, nodding at you. Billy turned around, and instantly stood, meeting you halfway and gathering you into his arms. "Daisy, Daisy, what happened? What's the matter?"

He sounded concerned, and you thanked the heavens for him. Your ear was against his heart, the steady thumping soothing you almost immediately. "They're...they're here," you mumbled weakly

"Who's here Daisy?" His hand. His hand on your head. It felt like it could shield you from everything.

You lifted your head, but his hand stayed there. Your breathing was still frantic. "The men...from the fire..."

His eyes darkened. "Where?"

"The general store," you breathed, and he gritted his teeth, looking up at the window. You tugged at his shirt. It was the striped one, the one you'd confessed to him you loved.

He looked back at you, his eyes softening. Then he moved, setting you on the chair he'd been sitting in previously, kneeling in front of you. "I need you to stay here, alright? I don't want you to ride back without me." Billy looked up, at someone behind you and summoned them. "Mrs. Peña?"

An older Mexican woman bristled over, and Billy said something to her in Spanish. She looked at you, looking confused as she responded. He nodded, squeezing your hand and saying something back.

Over the years of knowing him, you'd only picked up on a little Spanish, jealous of his ability to learn the language so easily. As Billy and Mrs. Peña conversed; you only caught a few words. Scared, safe, needs, help.

The older woman gave Billy a fond smile and nodded. He returned it, then turned his attention back to you. He kissed the fingers of the hand he was still holding. "You're gonna stay here, okay? Mrs. Peña and her husband own the inn. They're gonna keep an eye out for you."

"What are you going to do?" you whispered, your eyes wide in horror as you sifted through possibilities.

"Don't pay any mind to it," he said, squeezing your hand from where he was kneeling still. "I won't be long."

And with that, he stood up, kissed your forehead, and beckoned to Charlie, who followed him out the door. Your breaths were still fast as you watched him leave, and then you turned to Mrs. Peña. She gave you a warm smile and took your hand. You accepted it, stood up, and followed her to the kitchen, to a chair close to the sink. She gestured at it. "Sit."

You did as she asked, watching her flit around, preparing and sorting. Trying to remember the right words, you asked her in very broken Spanish if there was anything you could do to help.

She smiled and shook her head, motioning for you to stay. But you insisted. "¿Por favor?"

Mrs. Peña seemed to understand that you needed a distraction, so she took pity on you, waving you over to where she was sorting vegetables.

Billy didn't return for several hours, and so you accompanied Mrs. Peña, helping her with anything she'd let you. She spoke a little English, and you a little Spanish, so you managed. She was a very warm lady, and you felt bad for burdening her, telling her so as you helped her fold sheets in the empty front room that evening. But she shook her head, patting your hand fondly. "Eres una chica dulce."

That made you smile.

It was dark when they came back. You were surprised to see it wasn't just Billy and Charlie, but the entirety of the gang, including Joe. Mrs. Peña gave your hand another pat, and took the folded sheets away, leaving you with everyone. Billy stopped her and whispered something to her that she nodded and smiled at.

You stood up, and Joe came over, putting his arms around you and hugging you for a long time. He smiled sadly when he pulled back. "It's all okay now, little." He looked over at Billy, nodding. "Reckon you'll wanna stay here tonight. I'll bring your horse back." Joe kissed your forehead and left.

The interaction was confusing but touching. You watched your brother leave, questions swirling through your mind like a flurry. Then you turned and looked at Billy, who reached a hand out for you. "C'mere Daisy."

Of course you went to him, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you upstairs to his room. He shut the door behind you and locked it. It was only then that you noticed his knuckles were stained with dry blood.

Gasping in horror, you took the other one in your free hand, holding them up to examine them. "Billy...Billy what did you do?"

He shook his head, trying to reassure you. "It's not all my blood."

That only worried you further. "What on earth were you doing?"

Billy sighed, looking down for a second, reluctant to tell you. "We took care of the men who started the fire. You ain't gotta worry 'bout them anymore Daisy."

"What do you mean you took care of them?" you asked desperately.

He shook his head again, more firmly this time. "That's not for you to know. But it's all okay. You're safe now. That's all that matters."

You wanted to push the issue, but you realized there was probably a reason he wasn't telling you. So, you gave up. "Okay."

Billy pulled you to sit on his bed, your knees touching, and just watched you, checking for any hint of distress. "How're ya doing Daisy?"

Surprisingly, you found your token answer to be correct. "I'm okay."

He smiled briefly in acknowledgement. "Good. I want ya to be okay."

There was a comfortable quiet for a moment between you two. You didn't want to look at anything but him, didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Right now, he was your center, the very thing keeping you from floating into the sky.

Billy's hand moved to your hips, pulling you in closer. His eyes found yours as he said, "I want you to know I'm always gonna protect ya. You have Joe but ya also have me. You've always had me."

"Always," you repeated softly, and he smiled. His other hand reached up to tuck some of your hair back.

"Daisy..." he started, and you felt it. That fluttering, that warmth in your chest that he only seemed to be the cause of. "Did ya know I've always loved you?"

You tilted your head, waiting for him to explain, ignoring the butterflies sprouting in your heart.

He smiled in a nostalgic way. "You were a friend. A good friend. But I woke up one day and ya just...weren't that anymore."

"How long?" you whispered.

"Years, Daisy," he brought both his hands to your cheeks. "Years 'n years. Dunno if you remember awhile back, but me 'n Joe were comin' back from doin' somethin' in town, trouble probably." He paused to smile, shaking his head. "You were up in the branches of a tree, readin'. Looked real pretty. Think ya had a flower in your hair." Billy breathed a laugh, looking down for a second. "Mighta been a daisy. 'N ya looked up, smiled at me. And I knew I'd love ya forever."

Your lips parted slightly at the confession, and you felt a sweet smile spreading over your face. A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, and you pulled him in, kissing him softly. He made a noise of surprise but indulged, his hands falling from your face to your waist, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

"I remember that day," you said honestly, looking up at him when your lips parted. "Because a few hours later you asked me to go for a ride and you pulled me off my horse and not only did we fall down the hill, but I fell in love with you."

His smile was radiant, and you didn't need to ask if he remembered. Billy pulled you back in, kissing you fervently. He loved you. You could feel it. No need to wonder anymore. His kisses felt like a promise. I will always love you.

For hours after, there was nothing else but him.

Nothing but him as he kissed you like you were disappearing.

Nothing but him as he lowered you down onto his bed and slid the sleeves of your dress down your arms.

Nothing but him as he took his time, holding you so gently it made your head spin.

Nothing but him as he dipped his head briefly between your thighs, making your back arch and your hand squeeze around his. He'd given it to you to hold because he loved you.

Nothing but him as you and him did something you'd only done once before, but this time he wasn't going to leave.

Nothing but him as you did something you'd done many times before, nestling between his arms as you fell asleep.

When the morning came you knew it was far from the last one you'd have like this, but you savored it anyways, burrowing into his chest and hiding from the world. He peppered sweet kisses over your face, asking how you'd slept, asking for five more minutes before you both had to get up. And so you gave them to him. And five more minutes. And then another five minutes.

Because you were finally his. And he was finally yours.

Next part

#billy the kid #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid imagines #william h bonney imagines #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x you #william h bonney x reader #milliesfishes billy #Spotify

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trendfilmsetter · 6 months ago

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Apple Music’s ‘100 Best Albums of All Time’ list:

#1. Lauryn Hill — The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill

#2. Michael Jackson — Thriller

#3. The Beatles — Abbey Road

#4. Prince & The Revolution — Purple Rain

#5. Frank Ocean — Blonde

#6. Stevie Wonder — Songs in the Key of Life

#7. Kendrick Lamar — good kid, m.A.A.d city

#8. Amy Winehouse — Back to Black

#9. Nirvana — Nevermind

#10. Beyoncé — Lemonade

#11. Fleetwood Mac — Rumours

#12. Radiohead — OK Computer

#13. Jay-Z — The Blueprint

#14. Bob Dylan — Highway 61 Revisited

#15. Adele — 21

#16. Joni Mitchell — Blue

#17. Marvin Gaye — What’s Going On

#18. Taylor Swift — 1989 (Taylor’s Version)

#19. Dr. Dre — The Chronic

#20. The Beach Boys — Pet Sounds

#21. The Beatles — Revolver

#22. Bruce Springsteen — Born to Run

#23. Daft Punk — Discovery

#24. David Bowie — The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars

#25. Miles Davis — Kind of Blue

#26. Kanye West — My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

#27. Led Zeppelin — Led Zeppelin II

#28. Pink Floyd — The Dark Side of the Moon

#29. A Tribe Called Quest — The Low End Theory

#30. Billie Eilish — WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO?

#31. Alanis Morissette — Jagged Little Pill

#32. The Notorious B.I.G. — Ready to Die

#33. Radiohead — Kid A

#34. Public Enemy — It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back

#35. The Clash — London Calling

#36. Beyoncé — BEYONCÉ

#37. Wu-Tang Clan — Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)

#38. Carole King — Tapestry

#39. Nas — Illmatic

#40. Aretha Franklin — I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You

#41. OutKast — Aquemini

#42. Janet Jackson — Control

#43. Talking Heads — Remain in Light

#44. Stevie Wonder — Innervisions

#45. Björk — Homogenic

#46. Bob Marley & The Wailers — Exodus

#47. Drake — Take Care

#48. Beastie Boys — Paul’s Boutique

#49. U2 — The Joshua Tree

#50. Kate Bush — Hounds of Love

#51. Prince — Sign O’ the Times

#52. Guns N' Roses — Appetite for Destruction

#53. The Rolling Stones — Exile on Main St.

#54. John Coltrane — A Love Supreme

#55. Rihanna — ANTI

#56. The Cure — Disintegration

#57. D’Angelo — Voodoo

#58. Oasis — (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?

#59. Arctic Monkeys — AM

#60. The Velvet Underground & Nico — The Velvet Underground and Nico

#61. Sade — Love Deluxe

#62. 2Pac — All Eyez on Me

#63. The Jimi Hendrix Experience — Are You Experienced?

#64. Erykah Badu — Baduizm

#65. De La Soul — 3 Feet High and Rising

#66. The Smiths — The Queen Is Dead

#67. Portishead — Dummy

#68. The Strokes — Is This It

#69. Metallica — Master of Puppets

#70. N.W.A — Straight Outta Compton

#71. Kraftwerk — Trans-Europe Express

#72. SZA — SOS

#73. Steely Dan — Aja

#74. Nine Inch Nails — The Downward Spiral

#75. Missy Elliott — Supa Dupa Fly

#76. Bad Bunny — Un Verano Sin Ti

#77. Madonna — Like a Prayer

#78. Elton John — Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

#79. Lana Del Rey — Norman F*****g Rockwell!

#80. Eminem — The Marshall Mathers LP

#81. Neil Young — After the Gold Rush

#82. 50 Cent — Get Rich or Die Tryin'

#83. Patti Smith — Horses

#84. Snoop Dogg — Doggystyle

#85. Kacey Musgraves — Golden Hour

#86. Mary J. Blige — My Life

#87. Massive Attack — Blue Lines

#88. Nina Simone — I Put a Spell on You

#89. Lady Gaga — The Fame Monster

#90. AC/DC — Back in Black

#91. George Michael — Listen Without Prejudice, Vol. 1

#92. Tyler, The Creator — Flower Boy

#93. Solange — A Seat at the Table

#94. Burial — Untrue

#95. Usher — Confessions

#96. Lorde — Pure Heroine

#97. Rage Against the Machine — Rage Against the Machine

#98. Travis Scott — ASTROWORLD

#99. Eagles — Hotel California

#100. Robyn — Body Talk

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henrysglock · 7 months ago

Text

Superspy!

This post is just me breaking off the UD double agent section from my time loop theory post (14 Jan. 2024). It's not new, just wanted it separate for ease of referencing.

I'm not sure if anyone else outside the my discord server has noticed this, but in every season there's at least one instance of the UD just...offering up information.

"It does?"

Yup! Let me explain.

On first glance, we look at things like Nancy's vision and even El's vision with Billy in the cabin, and we go "Oh, it's because [insert "the bad guy's cruel/he wants to scare her/his hubris will be his downfall/all serial killers want to be known for their crimes" etc here]"...but maybe that's not the case.

For example: Vecna told Nancy his backstory, and then he immediately went

"Oh hey, so not only am I revealing my identity (Which may help you find out more about me via lab records later on, things like...maybe a list of my abilities, or my weaknesses, like the fact that I have a nut allegry. Allegedly.), but I'm also gonna give you a sneak peek of my apocalypse plans. For free. As a treat. Don't use these to prepare or anything. I'm totally not giving you a head start".

Terrifying, yes. A taunt and a threat on surface view, yes...but also showing his hand. "I want you to tell Eleven everything you see" Why. Why would he want that? He may be confident in his plans, arrogant, even...but he's not that stupid.

I'm serious, though. Check it out in comparison to Henrys visions of the future. The pattern is patterning:

We can track that back to El's cabin scene with Billy, wherein he tells her she shouldn't have looked for him, warns her that they all can see her, and that they're going to be coming after her...and he cries about it. That's vision Billy. That's someone else who piggybacked into El's mind from Billy's mind. Billy doesn't have powers. He can't piggyback into minds. That's not real Billy, just like how Billy in Max's vision wasn't the real Billy. That's someone with the ability to piggyback into minds (sit with that for a beat, it'll come to you). The person giving El that vision warns her.

Why on earth would that person tell her that they can see her, that they're coming for her? That's sensitive information! It would be smarter to let her think she's safe and use that false sense of security to catch her off guard.

In fact, this pattern patterns so well that I'd like to argue this: Henry's TFS visions, Nancy's vision, and El's vision are all the same type of behavior displayed in NINA's chess scene, just in different contexts.

Henry ("Henry") gives some kind of scary prophetic information ("He and the others are going to attempt to kill you", "I would very much like to show you where I am going", "You're going to kill me, aren't you?"), and then we're left to question if it's a scare tactic, manipulative misinformation, or helpful inside information.

It's not that the Mindflayer or Vecna can't hide things from people (see: "Somewhere he didn't want me to see")...like, say, the fact that the Mindflayer is now able to see El, or that Vecna's planning to open 4 gates with his 4 kills.

It's always this miraculous "Huh! Weird info-dropping behavior from the UD's side. Shouldn't look that gift-horse in the mouth though. It's probably just a writing oversight or a shoehorned exposé, so really there's no need to question it." situation where it's just...information that's offered up with no real explanation.

Some of my favorite examples:

...and it's all topped off with Max's line:

"He's been telling us his plan this whole time".

That is to say...You're telling me:

The first message from the Upside Down isn't any of the messages that are concretely Will's, but instead it's the one that's a repetitive Henry line...and it's conveyed in a distinctly not-Will style? A message that saves Joyce, something that's definitely not in the UD's best interest given her tenacity in finding her boy...but is definitely coming from the UD nonetheless?

Will, who fell total prey to the Mindflayer in less than 3 days, was not only able to figure out how to defeat the Mindflayer, but was also strong enough to convey it in Morse code? The Mindflayer, who is able to keep secrets (see below), just...let that information slip?

El, who acknowledges that the Mindflayer is more than able to hide things from her, is suddenly sent into Billy's memories and allowed to find the source completely unimpeded? (and she was sent, you can look at the positioning on "Billy's" hand in real time if you think I'm exaggerating)

The Mindflayer, as "Billy" (Remember: not actually Billy, because Billy can't give visions or invade minds), is telling El that because he's able to see her now, and that she shouldn't have looked for him? The Mindflayer, which was supposedly building the Fleshflayer to track El down and kill her? Suddenly he's telling her she shouldn't have done the very thing that allowed him to find her more easily?

Vecna's giving up all the information about himself and his plans before he's even gotten the 4th gate open, despite him being so secretive about it up until that point? He's not cocky enough to broadcast his plans earlier, but he is cocky enough to tip off the girl who found his family and drew all the connections...the "detective" of the group in ST3, about what's happening/going to happen...and tell her that she needs to tell Eleven, the girl who kicked his ass into Dimension X as an eight year old, all the future plans she sees?

Henry's visions in TFS are scaring him into resisting the Mindflayer, making it less likely that he's going to upgrade to killing humans, i.e. the very thing the Mindflayer wants him to do?

None of that makes any damn sense...until we hit this last point:

Orderly Henry is known for giving inside information about "Papa" to El with no clear motive other than getting her to leave the lab.

So, with this new frame of view, I'd like you to chew on this:

"He's been telling us his plan this whole time." vs "He's been telling us His plan this whole time."

By which I mean: "He's been telling us some other man's plan this whole time."

[Mike voice] Superspy.

As a parting thought, I made it all into a nice, neat set of collages:

I'll leave you all with this final, parting bit, too:

None of this even touches on them shoehorning in an entire arc about a spy who goes by the name Enzo/"Henry".

He isn't actually named Enzo/Henry (he's Dmitri), though (hello Edward), but he is working as a guard and feeding inside info about the KGB (CIA equivalent) to Hopper/a "bald" American:

...in hopes of setting said bald American free from prison/hell:

...only to get himself caught up in a creature massacre:

That kills off all the other guards and shaved-head inmates (while he himself is the sole "inmate" with longer hair) and sent on the run afterward.

Okay. I guess. That's fine. Nothing smells Creel-y about that.

Not mention, of course, the interpretation of the Russia arc paralleling Vecna and Hopper rather than El and Hopper. Local father figure gets his ass kicked and sent to "hell" from which he has to escape to go home. Like. Yeah, I get it.

I'd like to posit that this might be a spot for further exploration irt multiple parallels -> multiple versions of events, as per my series on the NINA fight (which showed us at least 3 tangibly different endings for the 4.07 fight). We could very well have one version focused on a Murray/Yuri type deal, one with a Hopper type deal, and one with an Enzo type deal depending on which ending they were involved in. That's just speculation atm though.

#st nina project #UD spy theory #henry creel #henry/vecna/001 #stranger things

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penny00dreadful · 3 months ago

Text

CW for this chapter on AO3

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 4/ AO3

As luck would have it, the river spat them out close to a Bedouin trading post, allowing Eddie to get decently dressed and allowing both Steve and Robin to charm the hell out of a few of the traders there.

Though Eddie would like to petulantly insist, even in his own mind, that it was all Robin, conversing easily with them in one of the many, many tongues she spoke, he couldn’t deny that Steve was getting his fair share of pinched cheeks.

But their charm got them all the equipment they could ever need for an expedition through the desert as well as a few camels to get them there. Eddie was honestly a little nervous about it.

Though this was what he had dreamed about ever since he was a little boy, listening to his mothers stories in front of the fire back in Indiana, he had never actually ventured out into a barren desert before.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud but he was thankful that he was here with Steve and Robin. They seemed far more familiar with it all and far more resilient than he had given them credit for and he knew that Robin at least, wouldn’t leave him to burn up into a crisp of a human being out on the sand.

Travelling on camelback was both similar enough to, and nothing at all like, travelling on horseback.

Which was to say, Eddie wasn’t the best at it, but he made do.

He got better as time went on and boy did time go on.

By the time they had reached their destination (a nondescript point in the sand that Eddie could see nothing unique about, but that both Robin and Steve seemed to make a beeline for) they had been travelling for about forty hours.

He was half asleep on his camel, he was hot, there was sand everywhere and he was god damn thirsty all the time.

But as Robin and Steve stared out into the darkness of early morning, they heard hoofbeats approaching.

It was the Cowboys and that one Tommy guy that Steve seemed to have a contentious relationship with.

Eddie was definitely not curious about it at all.

He didn’t care what kind of history they had.

He didn’t.

And anyway, it wasn’t his business so…

He didn’t care.

Evidently, neither did Steve because he just sent a short glare towards Tommy before looking back out over the desert.

“Bet you $500 we make it to the city first.” One of their opposing party said, a blonde, curly headed guy that Eddie was pretty sure was called Billy.

Steve rolled his eyes with a little scoff. “Yeah, sure.”

The other group definitely had numbers on their side. What looked to be at least thirty locals on their own horses, all of them just as confused as Eddie and the Cowboys about why they were just standing around to… what?

Watch the sunrise or something?

The only ones who looked like they knew what they were waiting for were Steve, Robin and Tommy.

“Get ready for it.”

Eddie turned to look at Steve.

“For what?”

He nodded back out towards the horizon, adjusting the reins in his hand. “We’re about to be shown the way.”

Slowly, the sky turned warmer, the sun peeking up over the edge of the world, and something shifted in Eddie’s periphery.

A mirage formed in the sand in front of them, a great swirling image, an illusion like a ruined city taking shape out of water and heat vapour but… it has to just be an illusion, right?

Except no, it couldn’t be because it had stopped fucking swirling and now… now there was just a large, towering and crumbling city standing in the sand ahead of them.

Before Eddie even had a chance to comprehend what the fuck was happening, there was a shout from Tommy and everyone had set off, full tilt towards the ruins.

Despite Eddie’s slow start, he refused to lose to Steve’s… ex or his fucking adversary or like… whatever unrequited love nonsense that was going on there.

Not that he cared but he just didn’t want to fucking lose.

He needn’t have worried anyway. His camel seemed to be his best friend and before he knew it, he was pulling ahead of everyone.

Honestly, it probably had more to do with the fact that the others had ended up trying to shove each other from their saddles in order to get there first.

Robin probably would have won if she’d tried, but she was having the time of her life just riding on a running camel, a wild smile on her face and a hand in the air.

She didn’t care.

So Eddie was the one who got all the glory and he got a good first look at everything around him.

Like most ruins in Egypt, it was a fuck ton of sand, broken and buried monuments sticking out of the ground and not much else. No visible way to get to the rest of the ruins sitting below.

But off in the distance, he noticed a statue of Anubis, staring at him, practically calling him forward, half entombed, only his head and shoulders visible.

It was out of the way and the Cowboys had already begun to settle along the most obvious entrance, probably where they thought they’d find the most treasure, but this Anubis statue…

In theory Anubis would be guarding the chamber where this mysterious Book of Amun-Ra was kept, so Eddie powered forward, expecting Steve and Robin to follow, which they did.

They looked at him curiously as he circled the statue but didn’t argue with him. Apparently they trusted his knowledge well enough to just go along with it and he tried not to get too puffed up with pride about it.

Just as he had read about, there were large metal circles, needing to be polished, dotted around the statue and he explained to Steve and Robin, but mostly to Steve (Robin had read a lot of the same books as him after all) that these were mirrors to be used to reflect the sunlight and illuminate the passages below, easily accessible, hidden under one of the disks.

Steve had a pensive look on his face, like he was listening but not really taking it in, his mind far away on something else.

Eddie rolled his eyes and figured he could leave the rest of the explanation up to Robin if the guy couldn’t even be bothered to listen to him.

Just before he turned he saw Robin deliver a kick to Steve’s leg and he grinned to himself a little with it.

But only a moment later he felt something nudge against his arm.

When he turned back again, Steve was standing in front of him, unusually bashful and holding out a cloth roll to him.

“For you.”

Eddie took the roll in his hands, feeling the weight and heft, looking back up at Steve, confused.

“It’s something I— uh… borrowed from the others—”

“The Cowboys.” Eddie interrupted with a little snort.

Steve’s shoulders were practically up around his ears and his hands were stuffed into his pockets. “Right. Yeah uh… the Cowboys. I just… thought you might like it— I mean need it so um…. Yeah. Just- y’know. Uh. Yeah.”

Eddie blinked at him, mouth hanging a little open, not sure in any way what to do with what just happened.

Steve glanced down, his eyes resting on Eddie’s slightly parted lips for barely a second before he turned and almost scampered away, practically hiding himself behind Robin and pretending to busy himself with the ropes.

Unrolling the cloth in his hands, Eddie found himself looking down at a small archeological kit, scrapers, hammers, chisels and a few brushes. Everything he could need.

There was a blush rising up on his face and he too had to turn away to hide it.

It only took a few more minutes before Steve had the rope ready to swing them down into the cavern below.

Eddie was fucking ecstatic. He was here. He was fucking doing the damn thing, finally getting to explore the places he’d dreamed about for so long.

He practically bounced over to a metal disk on a stand and after he had brushed the cobwebs away and with Robin’s help, shifted it a little to the side enough to catch the light of the other mirrors above, reflecting the sun.

The chamber was lit with a gentle glow and Eddie was practically vibrating with energy, staring around him in wonder.

“Do you realise,” he almost whispered into the quiet of the ancient underground chamber, “that we are standing where people have not stood for over 3,000 years?”

His wide eyes landed back on Steve, who was not looking around the ancient and unexplored chamber, but was instead watching him for some fucking reason.

Robin was off to the side, having her own moment of excitement, wide eyes drinking in everything around her.

Eddie looked up and around as well, finally realising what kind of room they had landed in.

“It’s a seh-netjer, a preparation room.” He told the two of them and Robin nodded along. “For the journey into the afterlife.”

“Preparing what? Mummies?” Steve asked, hand twitching up like he was going to grab his gun.

Eddie rolled his eyes. He wasn’t going to disparage anyone’s superstitions but what was Steve going to do? Shoot a mummy?

Without a glance back, he headed off down a corridor, the two of them following behind and Robin confirming to Steve that yeah, mummies.

“Eddie!” Steve called after him, his voice echoing around the hallway. “Don’t run off.”

Eddie just snorted, opening his mouth, intending to quip back that his uncle had been telling him not to run off since he was a little kid and it had never worked then so why would it work now, but he didn’t have a chance to speak a word.

A sudden loud and skin crawling chittering started up around them, surrounding them, seeming to come from inside the walls.

Eddie flinched back but he didn’t let it deter him from continuing to move forward, only sparing a passing glance over his shoulder to the other two with a light ��Bugs, probably.”

He didn’t miss the grim as fuck look Steve and Robin shared, but he put it to the back of his mind.

He didn’t think Robin was the superstitious type, but maybe she was just humouring her friend.

Either way, that was far less important than the looming bottom half of a statue in front of them.

The head of Anubis was above the ground overhead and now Eddie was staring at the god’s legs and his plinth with almost childlike excitement.

He had only gotten close enough to touch it when the sound of echoing voices further down the corridor drifted towards him and he found himself silently shoved into it, his back hitting the stone and again, sandwiched in between Steve and Robin, who both loosened a gun from one of their holsters and cocked them, holding them aloft, while Eddie was stuck holding his archeology tools and the torch.

Though he was not willing to be left out again, he hastily stuffed the tools in his cross body bag and reached across Steve’s body to pull his other gun from his chest holster and followed suit, cocking it and holding it aloft.

Steve turned to glare at him and Eddie shot back the very grown up response of sticking his tongue out.

When a small stone skittered towards them, kicked by something, all three of them took it as their queue to jump out, guns raised and ready for whatever was on the other side of the statue.

They found themselves faced down with more barrels, many more than the three they had.

The Cowboys.

There was a pause of only about a second where they were all deciding whether they needed to keep the guns up or not, but with one charming flash of Steve’s pearly whites, they were all grinning at each other, shrugging their shoulders like this was the funniest thing in the world and slowly letting their hands drop.

“Hey!” Shouted one bespectacled member of the other party, Eddie thought his name might have been Fred, glaring down at the archeological tools Steve had stolen, sticking out of Eddie’s bag. “Those are mine!”

Steve and Robin had their guns back up in a flash. Steve’s mouth was in a hard line and Eddie was too slow to react at the same time they had, his own gun still limply at his side while the two of them practically shouldered in front of him.

“I don’t think so.” Steve’s tone of voice was snappish and mean while also managing to be entirely too confident, but it still had something warm growing inside Eddie’s chest to be…what? Defended? Protected by Steve?

God, no. No, no, no.

The Cowboys raised their own guns again in response and they were back at square one while Fred visibly backed down, muttering out a quick “Perhaps I was mistaken.”

“Well it’s been lovely seeing you fellas,” Eddie poked his head out over Steve and Robin’s bracketed shoulders, “but we’ve got work to do so—”

“Fuck off.” Billy scoffed, not taking Eddie’s demands seriously at all. “This is our site.”

“You fuck off!” Eddie snapped back. “We got here first!”

Billy laughed back, condescending and demeaning, eyes sliding off Eddie completely and instead over to Steve, like Eddie wasn’t even worth conversing with.

Eddie would have usually taken extreme offence to it, because he was a fantastic conversationalist if he did say so himself, but his eye had been caught by a gap in the floor.

He nudged his shoe over it, listening hard for the small rocks he’d kicked in and hearing them echo as they fell, telling him there were rooms or chambers of some kind below.

“C’mon Harrington.” Tommy grinned at him, an attempt at the same charm Steve exuded without even trying, nudging his head around at the guns levelled towards the three, clearly outnumbered. “Your odds aren’t looking so good.”

In response, both Robin and Steve glanced at each other, guns still held aloft. They smirked at each other, cocky and sure in themselves before turning their eyes back to Tommy.

“We’ve had worse.” They said in unison, arms never wavering.

The tension was ratcheting up and if Eddie didn’t do something immediately it would explode over. He hoped his hunch turned out right.

“Okay!” He said, coming around to Steve’s other side, so he was no longer sandwiched in between the two. “Have we had enough of the dick measuring, Buckley included?” Eddie placed a hand on Steve’s bare forearm, feeling the hair underneath and his fingers closing over the thin and delicate skin along the inside. “There’s no reason we can’t share, right? There are other places to dig.”

Steve’s eyes were boring into his own, searching but not questioning. Immediately trusting and Eddie had no idea what he had done to earn that kind of trust but he was thankful he had it.

Eddie’s risk paid off, thank christ. There was a chamber below.

Based on his calculations, the plinth Anubis was resting on was directly above them and if they continued to dig upwards, they should pop up right between his legs.

He said as much to Robin and Steve as all three of them had their various tools in hand to chip away at the ceiling above them.

“Right between his legs?” Robin asked, her pickaxe lodged unmoving above her. “That’s something you’d be used to, right, Munson?”

Eddie scowled, shoving at her shoulder and she allowed the momentum to carry her a few steps back, laughing.

With a hop back up, she grabbed her pickaxe with two hands and dangled from it, trying to pull it back out.

“When those men are finished swinging the dicks around and thumping on their chests, no offence,” She aimed the last part at Steve and Eddie who both waved her off, “we’ll be able to steal that book, right out from under them.”

Steve was standing next to him, both arms raised over his head and muscles flexing as he gripped Robin’s pickaxe with her and tried to pull it out.

It still wouldn’t budge.

“You’re sure this compartment is in there?” Steve grunted.

Eddie had to close his mouth. He hadn’t even been aware it had been hanging open. He was only able to nod as Steve looked over his shoulder at him.

After a solid hour of all three of them trying to yank the pickaxe out, they decided that a break was in order. So while Steve and Robin sat and cleaned their weapons, trying to get all the dust and sand out, Eddie was left pacing up and down the room, quite literally kicking rocks and trying to find something to entertain himself.

Eventually he just ended up rambling at the two of them.

“And that’s not even the most fun part. The brain has to come out too and it’s a really, really delicate process because if the person doing it isn’t skilled or like… careful enough, they could cave the whole face in and you need your face in the afterlife, right?”

Eddie turned on his heel, starting his trek back up the room. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Steve’s gaze following him with a look of disgusted horror.

“So, what? They just pop the top of your skull open to get the brains out?”

“Oh no.” Eddie shook his head. “They pull them out through the nose–”

“—Excuse me, the nose?!”

“Yeah.” Eddie turned again, making his way back. “Then the other organs get removed and dried out. Depending on what dynasty you’re talking about then they’ll be put in the canopic jars, except the heart. The heart gets put back inside. Then they’ll rinse your body with wine and spices–”

“That part doesn’t sound so bad.”

Steve wasn’t even pretending to work on his weapons anymore, he was just openly watching Eddie as he traipsed up and down.

“You won’t be feeling any part of it.” He waved his hand in Steve’s direction. “It’s mummification. You’ll be dead.”

“Okay, well. For the record, if I die down here, don’t put me down for mummification.”

Eddie couldn’t help the little snort that came out of him.

“You think you’re important enough to deserve mummification, Stevie?” He grinned, coming to a stop in front of him. “Are you a Pharaoh? Nobility? A priest? A King?”

Steve just shrugged, blinking up at him with an upturned curl of his mouth. “I might be.”

“Well then, King Steve, I hope the afterlife accepts you as such.”

Robin pushed herself to her feet with a roll of her eyes and a heavy sigh.

“You two are insufferable.” She said, walking around them to tap her hand against the pickaxe still in the ceiling.

She had no sooner made contact with it when there was the sudden and loud sound of crumbling above them and in the next second something heavy and huge had fallen into their chamber and Eddie couldn’t see anything anymore.

He stumbled back, his lungs and eyes filled with dust and the loud crash scaring the everloving shit out of him.

His heel hit something and then he was falling, tumbling backwards. But before he could hit the ground there was something solid and warm behind him, arms around his waist and he was being pulled, dragged away from the still settling cloud surrounding them.

“Robbie!”

It was the most panicked Eddie had heard Steve sound in the few days he’d known him and it was both terrifying and a little comforting to know he was at least a little human.

“I’m good!” Her voice called back from the opposite side of whatever had fallen through the ceiling.

Eddie blinked his eyes a few more times and when he was finally able to take in what was in front of him, he practically jumped out of Steve’s arms and started flitting around it like an excited bee.

“Oh my god.” Eddie ran his fingers over the top of the large stone coffin that had practically fallen into their laps. “It’s a sarcophagus.” He looked up.

The base of Anubis was visible above them, still enclosed. Clearly the other Cowboys hadn’t gotten in yet.

Across the top, where a title or name should have been inscribed were the words “He who shall not be named.”

Eddie blinked down at it.

“Pretty ominous to put on your final resting place, don’t you think?” He asked, with a glance up at Robin who was also examining it with an almost singular focus. “He was either someone very important or very bad. Anubis must have either been escorting him to the afterlife or keeping a close eye on him.”

Steve nodded along absently, his eyes trained on an indentation he’d just blown some sand out of.

“There's some sort of mechanism here.” He tapped it. “These things are made of—?”

“Granite with a cobalt lining.”

“Well.” Robin rested her hands on her hips. “Whoever’s in here, they sure didn’t want him getting out.”

Steve leaned in a little closer, getting a good look at the indentation. “Looks like… it needs a key or something?”

Eddie snapped his fingers, startling the other two. “They guy! The guy on the boat!” Without a second of hesitancy, he plunged his hand into Robin’s pocket and pulled the puzzle box out. “He was asking about a key!”

Robin grumbled at him groping her, as if that had been his goal. Eddie ignored her, popping the puzzle box open, fitting it onto the lock, anticipation fizzing through his veins.

Just as he tightened his fingers, gripping the key and intending to turn it, the sound of a scream echoed through the corridor behind them.

Steve was off like a shot, practically being called to action, Robin hot on his heels.

Eddie glanced back down at the puzzle box, momentarily wondering if he could get away with staying and turning it, before stuffing it into his pocket and following the two out.

He didn’t get very far, just barely at the entrance to the room they were in before he was held back by a hand on his chest.

He could hear the screaming getting closer, the sound of raw terror and fear that did something unspeakable to his lizard brain, telling it to run, hide, help.

Rapid footsteps approached and one of the Cowboy party came running at them, pelting down the corridor like the devil himself was on his ass.

He didn’t slow down as he passed them, didn’t even notice that there were people around him or that he was running full speed towards a dead end.

With a sickening crunch, the force met the object, the guy practically running head first into the wall and crumpling to the ground like a sack of potatoes, still and unmoving.

Not even breathing.

Eddie felt like he couldn’t catch his breath in sympathy.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away, his eyes stuck wide and unblinking as his brain tried to comprehend what had just happened in front of him.

He didn’t stop looking when Robin gently tugged him against her, he didn’t stop looking as Steve moved away, kneeling down to check the guy over and allowing his hands to fall back to his sides after pressing two fingers into his neck.

He could only look away when he was physically turned away by the two, escorting him slowly out of their underground cavern, muttering to him that he just needed some fresh air, held tight between them.

Eddie stared into the fire with his back to the distant party of Cowboys at their own camp.

He couldn’t watch them mourn their friend. He couldn’t watch them figure out how they would transport his body back.

He couldn’t watch some of their party leave with him to bring him back to his family.

Maybe that made him a coward, but right now, he didn’t really care.

He hated not having answers to things and this was one of the big ones he was in the dark about:

They had no idea what had happened to him.

In addition to that, as Steve settled himself down gently at Eddie’s side, a hand running up and down his back, he told both himself and Robin that it hadn’t been the only death of the day.

Turned out the Cowboys had tried to get into the plinth of Anubis and a few of them had fallen victim to the infamous ancient Egyptian booby traps.

They had ended up being sprayed with salt acid, killing them.

“Seems like standard shenanigans for a cursed land.” Robin muttered to herself.

Both she and Steve were shockingly unaffected. It wasn’t that they were uncaring, they just seemed to be taking the deaths much more in stride than Eddie was.

Like ancient boody traps and mysterious death were all business as usual.

Eddie rolled his eyes at her.

The land wasn’t cursed.

There was an explanation for all of this.

Though it might not be obvious to them right now, there was always an answer.

Steve bumped their shoulders together.

“You don’t believe in curses?” He asked with a little grin, apparently trying to lighten the mood but the jury was out on whether he was succeeding or not.

“We’ve been over this King Steve. I don’t. It’s a ridiculous notion. There’s nothing out there. If I can see it and feel it, then it’s real. If it’s not, then it’s not.”

“That’s a cute idea, but–” Steve picked up a large firearm he’d called an elephant gun in demonstration, “–I believe in being prepared.”

Eddie laughed a little to himself with a small shrug, trying to stop the fizzing in his belly. Despite how much Steve grated against him, his steadfast conviction was at least a little endearing.

“I think I know how I can liven up this party, if you’ll excuse the gallows humour.” Robin flashed the two of them a grin before producing a bottle of Seagrams whiskey from behind her back. “A gift from our Cowboy friends as a thank you for…” She waved her hand around, trying to find the right words without appearing too insensitive, “... being with him at the end.”

She looked at the two of them, waiting for one of them to make a move but when they both just continued to watch her, she shrugged and popped the bottle open herself.

No sooner had she raised it to her lips than Steve tilted his head, ever so slightly, listening out for something behind them and Robin almost dropped the bottle, straightening up and grabbing for her own gun.

The three of them sat frozen, Eddie’s eyes darting between the two, waiting for something to happen because he could hear nothing.

In one swift movement, Steve had shoved the giant elephant gun into Eddie’s arms and jumped to his feet, loosening his two revolvers from their holsters and he was gone.

Eddie was left staring after him open mouthed, nearly falling backwards when Robin jumped over the fire to follow Steve out of their camp, her own guns ready.

Eddie’s mouth hung open, awkwardly clutching onto the gun in his hands and it was only then that he heard the hoofbeats rapidly approaching, when they were almost in the camp and not a second later, the first gunshot went off.

He didn’t know if it was the Cowboys who had fired it or if it was fired at the Cowboys but either way, Eddie couldn’t just sit there.

The gun was fucking heavy and cumbersome and honestly Eddie wouldn’t still be holding it if it didn’t feel like a safety blanket to have amongst the shouts and whinnies and gunfire going on around him.

It was fucking chaos.

Dark hooded men atop their horses in an all out gunfight with the Cowboys and, of course, Steve and Robin right in the middle with them, a singular focus on both of their faces, like old veterans.

Eddie was stuck, staring at the carnage around him and had no idea what to do.

Should he jump in and help? Should he drop and hide?

The decision was taken away from him when he spotted one of the men on horseback spot him and make a bee-line for him.

With his heart thundering in his chest and his throat closing up in fear, Eddie fiddled with the gun in his hands, somehow managing to cock it in his panic.

The two of them raised their guns at the same time and Eddie made what was probably not the best decision of his life.

He squeezed his eyes closed and pulled the trigger.

It was like he’d been hit by a fucking train.

The kickback took him clean off his feet and the shock of the sudden and extremely loud noise so close to him stole his breath away.

He sailed backwards, landing hard into the sand, chest aching, ears ringing, dizzy and unable to get a good breath in.

The stars above him swam and it felt like it took an entire age to get a good lungful of air.

He didn’t know where the gun had landed. He didn’t really fucking care. He didn’t want to go near it again.

God damn it, he just wanted to find some buried artefacts, why was this turning into a whole thing?

A face came into focus above him, dashing hair and moles and hazel eyes, looking down on him in worry.

Eddie found himself being pulled to his feet with careful hands, arms holding him tight and close, steadying him as he was still swaying a little.

The camp was quiet and a light breeze danced over them, like nothing had happened. Eddie would have thought nothing had happened if the chaos of hoofprints weren’t still visible in the sand and the smell of gunpowder wasn’t surrounding them.

“Are you alright?”

Steve took his chin gently between his fingers, tilting his face back and forth, looking for any sign of injury.

There were knuckles brushing over his cheek and the slightest touch against his bottom lip and Steve was looking at him, eyebrows slightly raised, waiting for an answer.

Eddie’s responding exhale was shuddering, escaping out through his parted mouth and he swallowed.

“I’m okay.”

Eddie was so not okay.

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 4/ AO3

Happy birthday @hbyrde36

My biggest thanks and much love to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for the beta work with this and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation!

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #stranger things fic #ao3 #the mummy au #eddie as evie #steve as rick #enemies to lovers #the mummy #1920s

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thesevenwondersofawitch · 29 days ago

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Watching Agatha All Along Death's Hand in Mine

Agatha All Along episode 7 spoilers

Agatha pausing between saying ex and best friend when talking about what she was to Wanda👀

Oh my God I can't be the only one that sees like sadness or emotion that flashes in her eyes when he says that Wanda isn't his mom 😭 because she saw just a much Wanda was willing to go to protect her kids and damn

"Hey you want straight answers ask straight lady."😭😂

"The road is a fickle mistress."

Omg the way her expression changes when he says he wonders if she's ever been on the road 😭 like she is remembering what she lost? (Thinking of the head canon where she unknowingly sacrificed her son for power, maybe bringing him with her only to lose him?)

The way Agatha said that the wicked witch was based off of her is so funny and especially her face when Billy says to prove it

Billy: "The horse drawn carri-"

Agatha unimpressed: "Chariot?"

Billy hurrying to fix his mistake: "iot." 😭

The way he said the Sphinx' represent her mysteriousness

WHAT SHE'S BEING TRUTHFUL 👀👀👀

Oh my god she almost killed him with the sword flying 😭😂

Oh my god the ceiling is closing in👀

The way Lila is wondering where they're going and now Jen is like I was literally following you bitch Idk where we're supposed to go

Oh my god I'm sobbing

"how long has it been?"

"centuries"

"eh, long time for you." 😭

Oh my god the way Lila travels through time😭

I feel like the older lady is familiar but I can't place her

Wait what subway station

I wonder if Lila has a family curse too 👀

Oh damn, she experienced her life out of sequence 😭😭😭 that would be so scary

"We are not cool teenager."

"damn using his full name."😭😂

OH MY GOD BILLY IS READING HER MIND😭

"Aren't you furious?"

"I mean always but collectively we've moved on."

The way Lila decides to trust Jen and then proceeds to instead panic over their outfits 😭😂

Awwwwww the way she wanted to protect him by giving him time😭

Lila doing her little stop stop stop dance is me anytime I have a panic attack/PTSD flashback

OH MY GOD IT'S TEEN'S BOOK

Ngl I too would want to put the power away if all I could see was death

I love his little Queer joke😭😂

The way Agatha kept trying to influence what Billy asks😂

Aw my boy doesn't know if he is William or Billy😭

Aw I'm sobbing the way Lila saw how her whole coven would die and she couldn't stop it

Awwwwww the way Lila realizes she's gonna die by falling and decides to use her remaining time to save her new coven because she loves them😭

OH MY GOD THE SEVEN👀

Ngl I kinda dig their vibes

I'm sobbing the way Lila calls Jen her sister in the craft with such emotion

Oh my god I'm bawling

I think she's gonna sacrifice herself because that's the way to save her coven😭😭😭

The way Agatha represents three of swords and that scene has me sobbing

Rio😭😭😭😭

Oh my god the way Rio has arrived to collect Lila AHHHHHHHHHHHH

And the way Agatha shoves the card down on the table, I think Lila knows that Agatha knows

"What can I say, I like the bad boys."😭😂

Oh my god the way she wants them all and gifts Billy back his book😭

"I loved being a witch."

FUCK NO😭

The way she turned the cards so that they would all be impaled 😭 I have chills

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IM GETTING FLASHBACKS TO BLACK WIDOW'S DEATH

Awwwwwwww the way Lila starts her journey again 😭 there's something kinda nice about it showing us how life always starts anew 😭

Soooooooo I'm sobbing and this episode was one of my favorites I think, because it was beautifully done.

#thesevenwondersofawitch #agatha all along #agatha all along spoilers #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x wanda maximoff #agatha spoilers #billy maximoff #teen agatha all along #Lila Agatha All Along #rio vidal #agatha x rio #agatha x wanda #rio x agatha #Agatha All Along death #rio is death #marvel death #marvel

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princessanneftw · 11 months ago

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Zara Tindall’s best friend to be appointed as lady in waiting to the Princess Royal

NHS midwife Dolly Maude, who delivered Tindall child on bathroom floor, previously wore joky ‘lady in waiting’ badge on day at the races

By Camilla Tominey for the Daily Telegraph

She once turned up to the races with her best friend Zara Tindall wearing a playful badge bearing the words ‘Lady in Waiting’.

A spokesman for the royal was later forced to clarify: “It was a joke. Zara doesn’t have any sort of lady in waiting.”

But now Dolly Maude, an NHS nurse who helped to deliver Mrs Tindall’s third child, Lucas, on the bathroom floor at her Gatcombe Park home in 2021, has been well and truly welcomed into the royal fold.

Despite the high jinks at Cheltenham last January, the 51-year-old mother of four has been appointed as a lady in waiting to Mrs Tindall’s mother, the Princess Royal.

The Telegraph understands that Buckingham Palace will announce the appointment in the Court Circular on Feb 1, when Mrs Maude will be revealed as one of four newly appointed ladies in waiting to the King’s sister, to replace others who have retired.

A lady in waiting is an attendant to a female member of the Royal family who acts as a companion on royal engagements as well as helping with their day-to-day duties.

Mrs Maude was maid of honour when the Princess Royal’s daughter married Mike Tindall, in 2011, and helped to deliver Lucas when his birth did not quite go to plan.

Mr Tindall described the birth on his The Good, The Bad & The Rugby podcast, saying: “Fortunately Zara’s friend Dolly is, she’s actually more important than I am at making sure she’s been at all three of my children’s births. She was there and recognised that we wouldn’t have got to the hospital in time, so it was run into the gym, get a mat, get into the bathroom, towels down, brace brace brace!”

One of Mrs Maude’s friends said: “She’s such a great girl. For the Princess Royal, it’s a perfect fit because of their shared love of dogs and horses.

“She’s not only extremely close to Zara, she also gets on brilliantly with the Princess. She’s fiercely loyal and discreet. It’s a great match.”

Mrs Maude and her husband Chris have four children. Billy, 26, attended Swansea University; Nell, 24, studied at the Central School of Ballet; Ted, 17, is, like his mother, a keen skier. He was a page boy at the Tindall wedding and Mrs Tindall is his godmother. Their youngest daughter, Mary, 15, is studying for her GCSEs.

Mrs Maude is occasionally spotted looking after Mrs Tindall’s children Mia, who turns 10 this month, five-year-old Lena and Lucas, at equestrian events.

Three years ago it was revealed that the Princess Royal, who carries out the second highest number of royal engagements a year after the monarch, had 11 ladies in waiting, two of whom had worked for Her Royal Highness for more than 50 years, three for more than 40 years, and five for more than 30 years.

Traditionally, ladies in waiting would be the wives or daughters of peers but they can also be a cousin or close friend.

When Queen Elizabeth II died, it was announced that Queen Camilla would not have ladies in waiting but instead be attended by Queen’s “companions”, and that their role would be much more informal.

#awww I love this!#princess anne #princess royal #zara tindall #dolly maude #british royal family #brf

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pascaloverx · 4 months ago

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To Begin Again

FIFTEEN

Summary: You're a new teacher at a large and influential school. It's a risky step for you, as you've been running from your ex for almost two years. But when Dumbledore asks you to take on a class at the renowned Hogwarts, you can't refuse. However, your life as a newly arrived teacher won't be easy. Especially when the other teachers don't seem eager to make friends. Or rather, two teachers in particular: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Author's Note: Welcome, dear readers. Please leave your comments if you enjoy fanfiction. This fanfic takes place almost in the real world (with the addition of werewolves) and is not a wizarding fanfic. There will be some differences and changes in things from the Harry Potter story or other fanfics in the HP universe, but I promise to do my best writing this fanfic. There will be a love triangle coming in this fanfic. So, dear readers, just as in this fanfic it's meant to imagine Remus Lupin as being Andrew Garfield and Sirius Black as being Ben Barnes, now I present to you the fancast of Severus Snape as being actor Enzo Vogrincic. Imagine him as Snape if you can.

FOURTEEN. SIXTEEN

And in the darkness, you find despair. With no idea where you are, you feel a deep, agonizing pain in your head. When you touch your forehead, particularly near the spot where it hurts, you look at your hand and see blood. Before you can panic, you hear a faint murmur, immediately remembering the children who were with you in the car. The car that flipped over, magically, after dinner. The dinner that was a gathering of you and other Hogwarts professors.

"Professor Y/L/N, I'm scared. What happened to us?" Draco asks as soon as he notices you have opened your eyes. The poor boy is terrified, with Harry's head resting on his shoulder. Harry's eyes are closed, which sends you into a panic. You crawl over to them, across what appears to be an improvised cell. You are trapped in a small space with iron bars.

"Draco, my dear, stay calm. Let's see if Harry can wake up first. Then we'll figure out what's happening. I know it's hard, but try not to be afraid. I will protect the three of us; I promise you that." You say, watching Draco's small but frightened face soften. Even though you don't know what is happening, you know you will protect your students, no matter the cost. You then move closer to Harry to see if he is breathing normally. Fortunately, he seems to be just asleep. Perhaps it was the shock of the whole situation. He has a small cut on his lower lip, while Draco, who recently recovered from the incident with the horse, has a bruise on his eyebrow.

"We are not just the three of us. Professor Black is here. I tried calling him, but he won't wake up. I…" Draco hesitates, trying to hold back his tears, but you can see he is about to burst into sobs. You look Draco in the eyes, even before trying to see where Sirius is, and gently run your hand over his face. As if to comfort him, you lightly caress his cheek. He looks at you, understanding that this gesture is meant to calm him. He takes two deep breaths. "I'm scared for us, Professor. I don't want to die like this," Draco says with a tone of fear, tears streaming down his face.

You want to tell him that he won’t die, but the truth is you don’t know what’s happening. Just hours ago, the four of you were in Sirius’ car, heading to the village restaurant where you were to meet some professors, your father, Dumbledore, and Narcissa. That's why you and Sirius are taking Potter and Malfoy with you. Potter’s parents requested that he be at the dinner because they had a very important announcement to make, while Narcissa wanted to say goodbye to Draco as she would be away from her son for a while.

— A FEW HOURS BEFORE YOU WERE CAPTURED —

Draco is touching everything. Literally. He has been bothering Harry for at least twenty minutes. Sometimes he pokes Potter's scar on his forehead, and at other times, he simply tugs gently at Potter's hair. Harry, in turn, elbows Draco each time he gets on his nerves. Sirius is more focused on the road than on the boys, so it’s up to you to intervene. Using your hand to separate them, you give them a stern look while turning slightly to keep an eye on them.

"If you poke your finger into my cheek one more time, I’ll bite it off and spit it out on the street," Harry threatens, staring directly at Draco. It’s amusing to see them arguing while wearing their little suits. Harry and Sirius are wearing matching suits and are constantly fiddling with their collars. Draco, who asked for your help with his tie, is dressed in his fancy, tailored suit.

"Scarface, I’d love to care about your empty threats, but unfortunately, I don’t. Maybe if you started being more dangerous, I’d take you seriously," Draco says, acting like the bravest boy in the world. Harry doesn’t think twice and slaps Draco in the face. Both of them look surprised that Potter actually hit Draco. You widen your eyes and then gently tap Sirius on the arm, as if seeking support.

"Potter, put your hand down immediately. Both of you need to behave better, otherwise, I will fail both of you. No matter how unfair it may seem. And guess what, you’ll both have to attend remedial classes. And I’m sure Professor Black here will do the same." You use your authoritative tone, looking at Sirius, who seems to be suppressing a laugh but nods in agreement with what you’ve said. He pulls up in front of the restaurant where everyone must be waiting for you. Lupin arrives shortly behind you on his motorcycle, a gift Sirius gave him a few years ago for his birthday. For obvious reasons, Lupin didn’t want to join you in the car. Who would want to be stuck between Potter and Malfoy for almost an hour?

"You look like a dysfunctional family," Lupin says as he removes his helmet and watches you, Sirius, and the boys get out of Sirius' car. Sirius smiles, finding it amusing, while you and the boys give Lupin a judgmental look at his comment.

"No unnecessary comments, Remus. We are here to enjoy a good meal in peace." You say, lightly hitting Lupin's arm, who laughs. He and Sirius really complement each other.

"I would never be part of Potter’s family," Draco says as he moves closer to you, looking at Lupin with a certain petulance. Harry, however, is too excited to be about to see his parents and be with his godfather to care about the comment. Moments later, you find yourselves standing in front of a table at the restaurant, already occupied by Harry’s parents, James and Lily; your father, Dumbledore; Narcissa, Bellatrix, Peter, and Snape. You are very surprised by Snape’s presence, considering he is supposed to be in the United States trying to recover his memory.

"What is that damn son of a bitch doing here?" Sirius questions as soon as he lays eyes on Snape, who looks back almost without reaction. You turn to look at Sirius, who is right behind you, holding Harry’s hand. Without saying anything, you hope Sirius understands the silent plea for him to calm down in your eyes.

"In reality, I wish to apologize for any inconvenience my previous actions may have caused. I hope we can start afresh now that we will be working together." Snape says, standing up from the end of the table as if formally apologizing. You, Sirius, and Lupin exchange confused glances, only stopping when you see Harry and Draco running towards their mothers.

"Harry, my love. Your father and I have missed you so much. We want to introduce you to someone. Meet Harriet Potter, your little sister. We were eager to tell you about her, but since my health was fragile during the pregnancy, your father and I decided to wait until she was born to show her to you." Lily Potter then picks up a small baby girl from a stroller near where she is sitting. The child is sleeping peacefully, being watched by everyone, especially her older brother.

"I missed you so much, Mom. And you too, Dad," Harry says, kissing his mother's cheek and then running into his father's arms. James picks up his son and hugs him tenderly. You, Lupin, and Sirius stand still for a few more minutes, watching everything. Draco is whispering something in his mother's ear while she embraces him. Everyone seems to be reconnecting with their loved ones.

"I hope you'll excuse me for leaving this dinner in such a hurry, but my flight to London is soon, so I must go. Thank you for the invitation, Dumbledore," Narcissa says as she stands up and heads towards the exit of the restaurant. Before she leaves, she pulls you aside.

"Take care of him for me. He'll need you more than you can imagine." Narcisa says as she prepares to leave the restaurant. You tense up at the way she speaks.

"I will take care of him, but why does this feel like a farewell?" you ask, watching a saddened Draco adjust himself in his chair, waiting for someone to sit beside him. Narcissa takes one last look at her son, then turns back to face you.

"There are things in motion that I can't explain right now," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "And one more thing, if you need a quick fix, remember to look in your coat pocket." Narcisa speaks all mysteriously and without further ado, she leaves.

"Professor, sit next to me. I don’t want to be between Professor Lupin and Professor Black," Draco almost shouts, waving his hand towards the chair beside him. You let out a small laugh as you watch Sirius and Lupin give Draco disapproving looks, which Draco responds to with a false smile.

"Since everyone is here, I know my beloved has news to share with everyone. Especially my dearly beloved daughter," Grindelwald says, gently touching Dumbledore's hand as he stands up while you sit next to Draco and Lupin. Sirius is on the other side of Draco, next to Snape, who looks uncomfortable under Sirius' hateful glare.

"Dear guests, I hope you enjoy the evening and the delicious food served here. But first, I want you to know that we are here to announce the return of James and Lily to Hogwarts as head professors. This does not mean that you, Y/N, are being dismissed. In fact, despite the incidents, your equestrian class has left many students enthusiastic. So we will be officially transferring you to that class," Dumbledore says with a tone that seems overly optimistic for your taste. Surely there was a better way to convey this, perhaps even something more personal.

"I hope you don’t mind, Y/N," Lily says, holding her daughter in her arms and keeping Harry’s hand clasped, as if wanting him close as much as possible.

"Dear, surely Y/N knew that at some point you would return to teaching in her place. But know that it will be a pleasure to have you on the Hogwarts teaching staff, Y/N. I know Lupin and Sirius must be driving you more insane than the students," James Potter says for the first time, being somewhat blunt but also kind. Perhaps Harry took after his father’s temperament, after all.

"You have no idea how much they are driving her crazy," Bellatrix, who had been silent until now, comments while sipping from her wine glass. You give her a slightly uncomfortable look, as her remark seems to carry a hint of malice.

"If you know your students, you know that nothing could be more maddening than they are. But at least I'm having fun. And it will be an honor to be officially part of the Hogwarts teaching staff," you say, trying to brush off Bellatrix's comment. Moments later, however, she stands up and extends her glass, as if preparing to make a toast.

"To our dear new head professor, I wish you much wisdom in your future endeavors. Something tells me that many surprises await you," Bellatrix says, somewhat intoxicated. Despite her state, everyone toasts to her words, even those without anything in their glass.

The next moments are filled with new interactions. Draco chats with you, Lupin, and Sirius, giving Harry some time to enjoy with his parents. The Potters seem to be in a happy family bubble, occasionally talking with you. Malfoy appears to have discovered that provoking Black is almost as invigorating as bothering Potter. You eat while intentionally avoiding interaction with your father and Dumbledore. You don’t understand why your father would bring Snape to this dinner or why Dumbledore would announce Lily’s return so abruptly without even talking to you. Your life seems to be a loop of people making decisions about your future without consulting you. By the end of the night, you and the Potters leave the restaurant together.

"Harry, my boy; behave on the way back. Obey your teacher, your godfather, and your almost-uncle. I trust you." James bends down to kiss his son's forehead as they say goodbye. Lily and James won’t be going to Hogwarts yet because they need to go to London for a personal matter. Lily is rocking Harriet in the stroller, so she gives her son’s hand, which is holding onto her dress, a kiss.

"We love you, Harry," Lily says, looking at her son. He smiles with such happiness, it feels like a fairy tale. Draco appears sad watching this moment. Perhaps he envies how Harry's family shows love and seems so in sync. You then gently hold Draco’s hand, looking at him with kindness.

"It was a wonderful dinner, but we need to head out soon. I look forward to having the perfect family at Hogwarts soon," Sirius says, giving little Harriet a kiss on the forehead and holding Harry’s hand to lead him to the car. Lupin heads towards his motorcycle as he says his goodbyes, and then you’re on the road. James and Lily’s car is just ahead of yours when suddenly, there’s an explosion. Harry's parents' car is on fire, right in front of you.

"Sirius, we have to go help." You say as you watch the flames grow. Sirius lets out a desperate scream.

"I can't stop the car. The brakes aren't fucking working." Sirius says while looking terrified at you. Draco and Harry begin to despair, especially Harry.

"We're going to die." Draco says as the four of you see that you're going to crash into Harry's parents' car.

"Get out of the car. Quickly." You say it, not really sure if it's the right thing to do, but it's what comes to your mind. Draco and Harry look at each other and then take off their seat belts. Sirius slows the car down as much as possible and in the next minute, the four of you jump out of the car.

— PRESENT TIME —

You manage to crawl to where Draco said he saw Sirius. He is unconscious and visibly more seriously injured. You place your head on his chest and feel his breathing is very weak. You want to panic, but you try to stay strong, at least while Draco is looking to you for hope.

"My brother has always been a fan of dramatic scenes. Here’s a first aid kit and some food. I recommend you don’t try any funny business." A male voice says in the darkness. You see a first aid kit and a tray of food being dragged towards you by a young man, who is likely Sirius’ brother. The young man leaves the cell right after, leaving you to care for Sirius, Malfoy, and Potter.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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