#fanfiction: billy the kid

[irenebullocks]

""Look, sweetheart, it's Fish. Bet he's missed you."" FISH, MY BELOVED!! Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!

"Something seemed to snap in you, and you swept a hand out, pushing him away. "Stop it, Fish."" Don't be alarmed by that sobbing you hear in the distance, it's just me.

"“Never,” he responded instantly, nudging his lips to your forehead. “You’re a part of me. Lettin’ go of you would be like lettin’ go of my heart.”" Oh there goes my heart again.

"But Fish curled around you like nothing had changed since the night before you were taken, the pleasant vibration of his purring filling the air." 😭

⋆౨ৎ𝓗𝓪𝓵𝓯 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓮⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: depression, animal abandonment pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: you aren't the same after you were kidnapped author��s note: I'm half dead, I hope this is good <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The sky was dark, the grayness of it expanding as far as the eye could see with the promise of rain. It painted everything near in a melancholy shadow, like the world was a ghost of itself.

This was not the way Billy had hoped to bring you home.

As he ushered you through the open space between his horse and the house, standing like a figure in the distance, he noticed the door was ajar. The miniscule detail heightened the already-present guilt inside him, but he pushed it down deep, instead focusing on you.

Rubbing your shoulders comfortingly, Billy ensured your steps were steady as he guided you up the stairs, nudging at the gap in the door with his foot to open it without letting go of you. The deafening quiet of the house met his ears, and he nearly cringed at the emptiness of it. Billy had really only ever known these four walls to hold light and laughter and love, three things always associated with you. The girl under his arm was a mere notion of that, nothing more.

Images of you tied, gagged, and crying invaded Billy's vision, and he tried to shake them away as he shut the door behind you. The last day had been tumultuous, overflowing with worry. Memories didn't come forth, only brief images accompanied by emotion. He'd ridden like mad trying to find you, cursing the roots of the ones who'd taken his girl away from him.

He didn't want to think about that right now. About the bloodbath that had ensued, about the sight of your fear-stricken body taut in his arms. Blinking once, Billy re-twined his arm around you, rubbing your side and dropping a kiss to your silken hair. Still soft after your whole ordeal.

You turned to face him, and he went numb at the look in your eyes. Stolen joy, replaced with an awful replica, a renewed safety that didn't fill near the space of what had been taken. Billy squeezed your hip, lifting his hand to trace the apple of your cheek. "It's okay." They were the only words he could think to breathe into the tension of the air.

The gentle padding of little footsteps descended, and the next thing Billy knew, the body of your cat, fur dark as midnight, was rubbing against his legs, weaving in and around them like the path of a river. A smile crossed Billy as he realized, and he looked to you somewhat excitedly. "Look, sweetheart, it's Fish. Bet he's missed you."

Your body gave a jolt when the cat nudged his furry face into your calf, as if to ask where you'd been. Billy's face fell into worry when you didn't bend to scratch Fish's ears or pick him up as he'd thought you would. Instead, your face was pressed to his chest, fingers clenching the leather of one suspender in an attempt to pull him closer somehow.

Fish seemed put off, sitting on his hind legs and craning his neck up as he meowed. All Billy could do was look helplessly at the little creature over your shoulder, fingers caressing the length of your spine as he attempted to inject comfort into you through his touch. After such a spot of trauma, he'd thought, hoped that your beloved pet would bring you some semblance of normalcy.

The afternoon bled into night, darkening the corners of the earth and further leading you into dread for the sleep ahead. Billy managed to coax you into bed, your spot between his arms beckoning. He promised that you didn't have to sleep, but it'd do you some good to at least lie down. Holding you, he tried to ignore the angry welts where the ropes had stung at your wrists, the marks for which there was no balm except time.

Your eyes were open, hair spread across his chest like a splayed, outstretched wildflower. He sifted his fingers through it, letting the quiet linger. He wore no shirt, knowing how much you loved having his skin right against yours. Maybe it would inspire sleep; that feeling of being comfortable.

Billy hated feeling helpless, but there was hardly anything else to do. there were things floating in your mind that he couldn't fix. There was very little to resolve with his capabilities. For now all he could do was hold you, guarantee your safety.

There was a little mew, and then light pressure on the mattress as Fish sprang up onto the bed. Normally it was a routine- Billy would fix himself against your back, arms slung around your waist, and Fish would curl up on your other side. You'd been falling asleep with him like that for longer than Billy had known you, and so when he began to occupy the same bed he simply adjusted himself around it. It was a cozy thing; the image of you cuddling with both him and the cat.

Right now, your stomach was pressed to Billy's side, ear resting on his heart. Fish pushed his head against your back, wanting you to turn around. But you were still, seemingly immune to the cat's wishes.

After a few tries, Fish gave up, opting to pad over to Billy's side and slump defeatedly by his hip. He lifted a hand, trailing his fingers over Fish's head, trying to convey that you didn't mean it, that you just weren't feeling your best. The poor creature didn't even know what happened.

All he knew was that his favorite person in the world was refusing to even look at him.

Everything about healing is arduous. If it happens too quickly, it didn't happen right. Billy tried to keep this in mind as he marched through every day, holding your hand through some, but carrying you most.

The nightmares. Every time you drifted into sleep, Billy hoped it would be a longer stretch than the previous night before you were inevitably woken by strains of the subconscious. He'd hear the familiar strains of sniffling, feel teardrops rain on his chest, and just know.

"Shh, sweet girl," Billy murmured one night after a particularly harrowing dream, fitting his palm under your nightdress over your back and hoping the heat of it would bring you down. "'S okay. I've gotcha. You're safe, I'm here."

You gasped, letting out a little sob that broke his heart. Billy dressed you in his arms, fingers falling over you like the petals of a flower kissing the bud. He held you tight, his body a shelter to your internal storms. It was a strange thing to hide from something inside by gravitating outward.

What truly saddened Billy was the clear contrast between your former and current being. When he'd met you, it was as if you were the goddess of spring herself, a sunbeam fallen to earth with the sole intention of brightening it. He swore flowers sprung up in your path, everything you touched glittered.

Now you were somber, retreated into the oceans of your own feelings. How swiftly your demeanor had changed in the wake of the horrible event of your kidnapping. With every crystally pearl that slipped from your formerly bright eyes, every shudder that racked you when he extended a comforting hand to your arm, he wished he hadn't been so swift in ending the lives of those who'd persecuted you. They deserved something slower, a twisting knife so they knew exactly what they'd done.

He reached for your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap and lower your head to his shoulder. Stretching a palm across your back, Billy began to tilt his body back and forth, rocking you soothingly and whispering, "Was just a dream, baby. 's all over now. You're gonna be okay." You let out a shuddering gasp, burying your face in his chest as the aftershocks of your nightmare shook your body.

Fish sleepily lifted his head from where he was sleeping at Billy's side, seeming to notice your distress. He arched his back in a stretch that nearly made him vibrate, pressing his cheek to your elbow. The touch made you stiffen, and you burrowed further into Billy, avoiding the cat's touch. That same stab of secondhand guilt cut him, and he exhaled softly, digging his nose into your hair. He wasn't the only one saddened by your troubles as of late.

Days pooled themselves, saving up to become weeks, and Billy was worried by your state. The nightmares continued, disturbing your sleep sometimes multiple times after dark. Aside from that, you were nearly a ghost when the sun was up, hardly lucid, tethered to the rock of that horrible day when you'd been taken.

You were rapidly losing weight, your skin paling. He was diligent about feeding you, but you ate very little. The pillars of your light were burning out one by one, as much as he could see you didn't want them to.

Drawn and quiet, your days were filled with the sound of silence. You occupied yourself half-heartedly with light tasks, and it instilled an ache in him- how diligently you tried to resume normalcy. He watched you sew and read and prepare meals, trying to resume your life as it was before. But all it seemed to do was push you further adrift in your sorrow.

Even the simplest of tasks, like brushing your hair, could send you into a fit of tears. That time, he'd heard the hairbrush clatter to the floor and sprang to his feet, racing to your side and gathering you in his arms. You were falling and he was trying desperately to hold you up.

The situation with Fish only grew worse. You outright refused to interact with the poor cat at all. He meowed at you for love and you ignored him, not even turning your head.

The poor cat would come pitifully to Billy after each rejection, tail metaphorically between his legs. Fish was long used to being shown nothing but love by you, and this sudden turn must have been jarring for him. It was a strange thing for Billy to behold as well. The sight of you cuddling the cat, even giving him kisses, was as ordinary as the sky's color before the events of your kidnapping. Things had changed, and not for the better.

Every night, Fish reattempted to resume the routine with you, meowing and trying to lay against you. And every night you would turn away from him, your back a cold declination.

He would have thought you were being cruel. But he knew you were hurting, that the pain was creeping in and making a home in your bones. The woman he loved wouldn't hurt anything on purpose. And so he took up the duty of comforting your cat, holding you with one arm and scratching Fish behind the ears with his opposite hand.

One night as you were lying facing him on the pillows, head nestled in the crook of your arm, you murmured, "You don't need to supervise me all the time, you know. You could go back to work."

Billy lifted his head, his thumb stroking the inside of your elbow. "Not when you're not feelin' well," he whispered. "Sweetheart, I'm tryin' to take care of you."

"It must be exhausting." You shifted on your side. "Constantly watching me." Your words were spoken dully, with little tone and even less volume.

Letting out a breath, Billy propped himself up on an elbow, searching your eyes. He held your hand between you, running the pad of his finger over the bump of your knuckles. "Exhausting? No. Never. But I'm worried, darlin'. 'bout you."

You turned on your back, staring at the ceiling. "I'm fine."

The flat delivery of your words was almost worse than if you'd screamed them. He let out a humorless laugh. "Sweeheart, you ain't been fine in weeks. You won't eat or speak...you won't even pet your cat."

His words rendered you silent, and you searched the ceiling as if it held the answers to life's greatest questions. Fish chose this moment to leap onto the bed, pawing at your thigh. Something seemed to snap in you, and you swept a hand out, pushing him away. "Stop it, Fish."

Billy frowned, sitting up and letting the covers fall to his thighs. "Baby, don't take it out on the cat. He ain't done nothin', just tryna give you love." Fish approached you again, and you huffed, turning away. Billy shook his head, his heart clenching. "Honey, c'mon now."

You sat up and drew your legs to your chest, like two spindly branches folding in the wind. Burying your face in your knees, you took in a shaky staccato breath, nails digging into your skin. Billy reached out a hand, rubbing it up and down your back. Your behavior had long since crossed over into the territory of being out of character. It was as if a ghost had inhabited the space you once took up.

He was well aware of what you were doing, even if it wasn't purposeful. Shutting out the world, pushing him away. You were a spectre lying in the bed where his sweetheart used to sleep. Billy sat there in silence, recalling how many times he'd attempted to maneuver you out of yourself again. And he wondered if that version of you was even still there.

Then you sniffled, lifting your head and reaching out for him. He could read the early signs of tears, sense the ache that resided within you. And in an instant, all doubts ceased. His girl was still in there. She had to be.

Billy's arms encircled you, pulling you tight into his body and tucking your head under his chin. When your face was buried in his chest, your body began to shake, little tremors cutting through your being. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I love you." Your voice was edged with sobs the way curtains were with lace.

The words tore right through him as if he were the page of a book, and he pressed his lips into your hair. "Shhh...don't apologize. I love you too, I love you so much. I just wish you'd let me in, my love. Let me help you."

"I don't wanna hurt you..." you choked, trembling under his gentle touch. "I can't get better..."

"Hey...that ain't true, baby," Billy whispered, his brow furrowing. "You can-"

"I don't deserve to get better," you sniffled. That sentence broke his heart worse than anything that had happened thus far.

Billy drew you close, nuzzling his cheek against your head. "My love, you deserve every good thing in the world." He pulled back for a moment, tilting your tearstained face up so he could see your eyes. "'n gettin' better's a damn good thing."

Your lower lip trembled just slightly, and Billy stroked your hair. It was devastatingly clear how badly you were hurting. So he gave you the only thing he truly knew how to do. Love.

He swaddled you in his arms, and you clung to him, nudging yourself close. Stroking your waist, Billy eased gentle kisses into your hair. "I'm here," he murmured. "I ain't goin' anywhere, sweet girl. 'm here."

Fish didn't even try to go to you that night. He just went straight to Billy.

Like a flower, you had been withering, petals stiffening and crinkling, floating down to the ground at your feet. He could see how frozen you were in your sad metamorphosis, clawing desperately at your own skin to get out of it.

He saw it in the way you looked at Fish, curled up against his leg. It was obvious how awful you felt about your maltreatment of the cat, but you were too lost in the waves of your depression to pull out and fix it. Billy grasped at the shreds of you left behind, tried to piece them together and show you the beauty of them.

He saw it in the way you clung to him, the love you felt a facet of yourself you'd never let go of. And he was glad for that, more than anything. It gave him hope. Love could solve anything with time and patience, he knew.

And so, he gave it tenfold, covering you in kisses and in cuddles. He made sure to hold you tight in the morning, especially after a rough night, whispering his love for you over and over again. Though he tried to hide it, his affections held a desperate edge. With every touch he seemed to whisper, please come back to me.

Over time, little signs seemed to reveal themselves, signs you were getting better. It was like seeing the first sparkle of a lake at sunrise, like witnessing a flower open its petals. You began to come to life again. He didn't comment on it, worried it would cause you to retreat back into yourself or tease out any worries. Instead, he continued to love on you.

He noticed you standing on the porch at sunset one evening, looking out into the cloudy sky streaked with orange. There was a light sheen of rain drizzling over the earth, and you seemed transfixed by it. Billy leaned against the doorway, silently watching you extend a hand, tentatively letting the rain kiss your fingers.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, a tiny smile twitched at your lips.

It was like seeing the sun after a storm, like the first sign of hope in a crisis. Billy felt it hit him like a bolt of lightning, bubbling in his chest and threatening to spill over. His eyes stayed glued to you, sure it was a trick of the light, a flicker that would fade into black.

But then you turned to him, corners of your mouth turning up more by the minute. And he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Billy moved forward, bridging the gap and pulling you into his arms, crushing you against his chest. He kissed the top of your head, emotion welling up in his being and overflowing into his actions.

You slid your arms around him, seeming confused. “Billy? What is it?” The rain was pouring harder, beating against the roof of the porch in the same rhythm as his heart.

Hope was coursing through him in a river. He was too overwhelmed to speak for a moment. When he finally found his words, all he could manage was “You’re…you’re smilin’.”

Your features softened. “Oh, Billy.”

His fingers tangled in your hair, heel of his palm on your cheek. You tilted your head up, nudging your nose against him. He saw daylight in your eyes, something golden and bright on the horizon. Billy felt like it was the first time he’d ever seen you, like he was a younger man dizzy under the spell of new love. And he let himself get hit over and over again.

“My sweet girl,” he breathed, searching your eyes. “My baby…”

You lifted yourself on your tiptoes, brushing your lips gently against his. Billy pressed his body to yours, holding you close as you smiled into the kiss. He caressed you like your body was built from gold, breathed into life by angels.

The sight of you smiling, kissing him, the beginnings of light brightening your entire being, spurred his actions, and his mouth dragged against yours, holding you in a kiss that stopped time. He pressed little pecks to your parted lips. “My sweet girl…my beautiful girl…”

You held to him, body practically melting against his. Arms encircling your waist, Billy breathed easy. Tilting your head up, you murmured, “You never gave up on me.”

“Never,” he responded instantly, nudging his lips to your forehead. “You’re a part of me. Lettin’ go of you would be like lettin’ go of my heart.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did,” you whispered, cheek on his shoulder. “I’ve been exhausting. And difficult. And unresponsive.”

“You were hurtin’,” Billy shook his head, lavishing another kiss to the border of your hairline. "You went through a bad thing. Anybody woulda reacted the same way."

"But I hurt you," you whispered, horror outlining your words. "And I hurt Fish..." Saying it out loud seemed to weaken you, and Billy held fast to your figure. "I pushed him..."

"Hey...hey, sweetheart, it's okay," Billy said softly, caressing your cheek. "It's okay. Me 'n Fish knew it wasn't personal. We knew our girl was in there somewhere." His hand traced the line of your jaw, reveling in the sight of the beginnings of healing. "We knew you'd come back to us. And even if you didn't, we'd love you anyways."

Every word that poured from his lips was knotted with sincerity, painting an idyllic picture that seemed to wash over you. The rain was slowing down, and you were breathing steady, and Billy swore he could see your soul glowing from the inside out, as if you were stardust. He wouldn't have been surprised if you were.

Between the sheets, your phantoms were stilled for the night, and you laid peacefully in his arms, like the space between them had been carved to fit you. Your name was the title of his story, your handwriting in the margins, your pen underlining his captivation. A week ago he would have thought this an illusion. His girl, happy beginning to seep back into her veins where it belonged.

The familiar thump on the mattress signaled Fish's nightly arrival, and he padded over to you, meowing curiously and half-heartedly rubbing his cheek to your shoulder. Billy exhaled softly, preparing to comfort the cat from your actions borne of grief.

But you reached out a hand, tracing a finger under Fish's cheek and smiling when he began to purr, stretching his neck so your nail would scratch the sweet spot on his neck. You shifted in Billy's arms, so your back was to his chest and his arms were folded over your belly.

Your movements were careful, almost as if you were waiting for the cat's forgiveness. But Fish curled around you like nothing had changed since the night before you were taken, the pleasant vibration of his purring filling the air. Breathing a laugh of delight, you held the cat close to your chest, stroking his head as you eased back into your place.

Billy felt his heart swell at the sight, and he squeezed you to his chest, kissing your temple and taking in the picture he'd have burned into his eyes for eternity if he could. The rough terrain was smoothing out, the seas ahead were tranquil. Spring was resting its soft hand upon the earth and you were healing bit by bit, washed anew by the rain.

All was right with the world.

[billysgun]

smitten

billy the kid x fem!reader |requested!|billy is still love-sick for you with your new domestic life and baby boy|

the baby stirs in your grip softly, a grin spreads on your face as your infant sleeps soundly in your arms

you turn as the door opens, billy takes his hat off and a wide smile finds his lips at the sight of you two

"how was your ride?" you whispered. billy often rides into the meadows -sometimes turning for the town if you need anything- after he left his outlaw life behind and married you. he's a cowboy at heart, though, so he rides almost every morning

"it was great," he said, voice low, he moved toward you pushing a loose strand of your hair to the side to get a good look at your face

"you look gorgeous" he whispered, a smitten look deep in his eyes as he moved down to kiss you

still as lovesick as ever, you melt into the kiss, and the baby in your arms whines at your attention moving and billy makes sure to greet him too

"hey little cowboy" he whispers and kisses the top of your baby's head, the infant's eyes barely open to see his dad

billy impossibly grins wider once your baby boy smiles at him, their matching eyes filled with love as billy scoops him up

"did you sleep good last night?" billy babbles to the baby,

"I'll make breakfast while you too talk" you giggle as you make your way to the kitchen, billy follows as the mumbles to the child

"mama's gonna make us some food. you'll help her one day so pay attention"

he narrates your movements to your baby, as you fry a few eggs your eyes drift to your husband and you couldn't help your heart as it swelled at the sight

this tall, threatening-looking man with a gun on his hip rocked your baby ever so softly with a love-filled grin plastered on his face

"I love you" you told him, he looked up at you before stepping closer to kiss you slowly

"I love you more than you could ever know"

an: thank you for the request! <3 I love love love the simple life with billy 🥺🫶

[julietsbody]

innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.

tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment

coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.

he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.

what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”

“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”

he clears his throat, “sorry?”

“do you—“

“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“

“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.

you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.

“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”

he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.

loud incorrect buzzer.

he doesn’t!

coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.

“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.

he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”

“cocaine,” you swallow.

“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”

he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.

you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”

he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”

“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”

he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”

a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.

“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.

you bat your lashes at him, “what—“

“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.

you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”

he nods, “‘m positive.”

“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.

you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”

“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.

“good girl.”

���˚. ౨ৎ

you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.

sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.

isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.

a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.

sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”

coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”

“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”

“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”

arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.

sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.

coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.

he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.

festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.

coriolanus heard his sex is never good.

funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.

coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.

what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.

coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”

you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”

“princess?” festus snickers.

coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”

coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”

festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”

coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”

your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.

festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”

his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.

“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.

“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.

so you do.

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.

“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”

“sometimes—“

“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”

it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.

“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.

his tone is softer now, “why?”

“i didn’t know—“

“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”

you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”

your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”

his lips drop to a frown, “why?”

your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”

“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”

“what? why not?”

“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”

“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.

“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.

“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.

you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”

then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”

“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”

“that’s okay—“

“—i’m bad news—“

“—i don’t think that—“

“—i’m dangerous, doll.”

you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”

he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”

you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.

“you know how to chop up cocaine?”

you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”

“i’ll show you.”

and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”

he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”

“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.

“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”

“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.

he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”

you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”

your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”

“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”

“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”

“do you want it?” you pause your movements.

“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”

you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”

“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.

you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”

you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”

“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”

he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”

he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.

to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.

yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?

the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?

he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”

he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”

“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.

“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”

of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.

his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”

“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.

“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.

he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”

his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”

“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.

it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.

it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.

how cute.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.

you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”

he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”

and it’s true, you really were special.

you were a dangerous man’s doll.

[irenebullocks]

This is the cutest goshdarn thing!

╰┈ 𝓲 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 ┈➤

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : as billy is running from town to town, he hears singing along the stream. he soon discovers the west's best kept secret, you.

𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 : tooth-rotting fluff, billy taking a shower, love at first sight, yearning

𝓪/𝓷 : i love sleeping beauty and this was inspired by prince phillip and aurora's meeting. this will also have another part so hope you enjoy!

Billy was exhausted. 

He had been riding for hours on end, running from town to town once he saw those damned posters of his face. Everywhere he went the posters haunted him, reminding him of the corrupt justice system in New Mexico. Endless sun beamed down on him as he rode as fast as he could away from town after town. The sheriffs were all under the thumb of men like Thomas Catron and the Santa-Fe Ring. So of course, he had to flee with his noble steed whenever he saw the slips of paper with an exceptionally unflattering depiction of him.

But everyone had their limits and Billy had just about reached his. Even his horse had reached his limit. Of course, Billy cared deeply for his steed so he set off, slowly, riding away from the town into the bordering forest.

He finally found salvation when he found a darling little thicket right by a cool stream, a deliverance from the never ending heat and exhaustion that hounded Billy. He started to clear an area, setting down his saddle and guns to let his horse drink the cool, fresh water of the stream. He looked around, listened carefully for even the tiniest sound of hooves galloping. Then, he quickly took off his clothes and stepped into the water, silently praying that no one was downstream. The cool water flowed slowly against his form, the cool water relaxing his aching muscles. 

Still, Billy was restless, nervous. By the time that he had finished showering, hunting, feeding his horse, even cooking and eating his dinner, the sun still was high in the sky. He decided to scout out the area, leaving everything behind besides his trusty revolver.

Whenever your aunts rode into town, often a week at a time, you had the time of your life. No aunts nagging at you to learn how to embroider, no aunts 'asking' you to fetch eggs from the chicken coop outside when they know that you'll never say no to the women who raised you, and especially no aunts telling you off about walking downstream. Of course, as your aunts had raised you, you were careful. You made sure you locked the doors, closed all the windows, and even watered the plants before you left. 

You had put on the new dress you had sewn that week in hopes that if anyone spotted you, they wouldn't question it and walk, or ride, away. As you walked downstream, you had started humming as the birds around you started to tweet. You had started to dance and sing, even stopping to pick flowers whenever you found pretty ones. You then had found a lovely little clearing filled with beautiful flowers which you started to pick as you sang.

"I wonder, I wonder," you had sung when Billy heard you. And he could’ve sworn that the entire world stopped.

He walked closer upstream, closer to where you were piling flowers into your basket. His hand drifted to his holster yet for some odd reason, his hand stopped at the handle of his gun. His eyes trailing at your hair, your hair. It looked magical underneath the golden glowing sun. And your dress had looked princess-like, or at least as princess-like it could to a man who's never seen a princess before. You had stood up, and spinned in a circle, continuing to sing that sweet melody that flooded Billy's ears. 

"I wonder why each little bird has someone,” you paused.

“To sing to, sweet things to," your voice held out the note. Perfectly, two birds had landed next to you, turning their heads towards each other. And Billy could've sworn that you had chuckled lightly. "A gay little love melody."

Billy had committed the sweet tune to memory, afraid to forget the moment he had met an angel. The sunlight illuminated the birds and gave your hair a halo. It screamed innocent, fragile, and beautiful, everything Billy wasn't. He was rough, desolate, a murderer. Yet, you were so entrancing, he couldn’t help but stare at you as you hummed more, inviting the birds into your hands.

"If my heart keeps singing, will my song go winging," You turned your head slightly, eyes closed as your voice was steeped in emotions. Coincidently, that was when Billy had fallen in love. 

He had finally seen you, and he was wrong. You weren’t an angel, you were a goddess. Your hair which framed your face perfectly, accentuating your beauty. Your innocent beauty. Your eyes were magical, gleaming bright with curiosity and love. Love Billy wanted all to himself selfishly. Your hair framed your face perfectly, the soft strands accentuating your face, your lips. Lips Billy wanted to taste, to savor. He was a hungry man, and you had graced his life with a feast. He wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment forever, never forgetting the light you had brought to his blood-soaked and muddy life.

“To someone who'll find me, and bring back a love song to me." You slowly finished the song to the birds in your hands, completely unaware of the outlaw hiding behind the bushes not even ten feet away from you, hand at his very lethal gun. You smiled sweetly to the birds, letting them fly off together, standing up and cleaning yourself. You turned to grab your basket full of flowers when you saw Billy.

 Your eyes had glanced over him before doubling back. Your breath had hitched, you had thought that no one ever came into the forest, so what was he doing here? Your aunts had warned you of the town and its inhabitants. Cruel and vicious people who wouldn't think twice about shooting you down the minute they saw you. Yet, this man hadn’t even drawn his gun, much less shot you. How long had he been there watching you anyway? 

You smiled brightly at Billy, hoping he would step into the small clearing so that you could look at this cruel, dangerous man. You tilted your head, like an owl, Billy had noticed, before you had truly done him in.

“Why, hello there.”

Three words from your mouth and Billy found himself falling further in love.

Billy finally came to when you spoke sweetly and gently to him. You were polite and darling, something Billy never thought he could find again after his endless life of darkness. He slowly stood up and made his way over to you, hand clenching as his nerves got the best of him. His hand was now no longer at his holster now, just tensing as he finally walked up to you.

As Billy stepped into the golden light, you finally got a good look at the first human you’ve ever seen besides your aunts. You noted his dark chocolate hair that was messy and damp, his clothes which were dusty and blue like the water flowing through the stream. But it was his eyes that held you there, staring at him with your head turned, mouth slightly opened. You felt like you were drawing. His eyes were magnificent sapphires, so deep and hurt? You could see the pain in his eyes, it was like no other. 

You wondered who had hurt him, wondering if this was fate and love like in the books your aunts brought you back from the town. Would he be the one to return your love song?

Billy watched you with a fascination that mirrored yours. Even then, nothing could stop the onslaught of worry he felt while you stared at him, at his face. All Billy could do was pray you wouldn’t recognize him. You slowly took steps towards him, slowly and carefully as if you were nervous to startle him like a bunny. He took a step forward, meeting you in the middle.

“Howdy ma’am.” His voice softly responded. Your eyes widened, taking a step back.

You were startled, his voice was so deep. It was smooth yet rugged like the feel of the amber drink your aunts had hidden in the kitchen when you thought you weren’t looking. Your aunt's voices were all airy and scratchy, while his was dreamy and prince-like. You pleaded that he would choose you as his princess. 

“Who are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” Your voice was small and sweet. 

Billy was confused, you surely have seen those infernal wanted posters of his, right?

“Am I supposed to know who you are, cause you sure are staring at me like I should.” You chuckled.

“Sorry, the names William H. Bonney, ma’am.” He smiled, holding his hands in front of himself, still near his gun just in case.

“William H. Bonney,” you smiled, “nice to meet you Mr.Bonney.” You told him your name in return, holding your hand out. Your books had taught you as much but seeing as Billy had looked at you endearingly, it was safe to assume those books were a little dated.

Yet he still took your hand, shaking it. When you thought he was going to let go, he brought your knuckles up to his lips, kissing them gently. Your hands were tiny compared to Billy’s rough and calloused hands. His hands were weathered to the rough feel of rope and the work of a cowboy. Your hands were soft and pillowy in his own. Billy swore then and there that he would do anything to keep it that way.

“Please, I’m no Mister, just call me BIlly.” He let go of your hand and you mourned the feel of his hands against your skin.

“Then It is only fair that you don’t address me as ma’am, I ain’t that old yet,” you giggled. Billy looked at you, the urge to keep talking to him bubbling up inside of you.

“Well then, what’s a darlin’ like you doin’ out here in the woods?” He drawled, shifting his weight.

“Well I just happened to be out on a stroll when I stumbled upon this lovely clearing filled with the most wonderful flowers. I decided to stop and bring home some flowers when I felt a tune bubbling up my throat so of course I just had to sing!” You started to hum the song again, swaying to the sound. Billy chuckled, stepping closer to be near you.

You truly were intoxicating, Billy found himself addicted to you. Your voice, your smile, even the clothes you wore. He loved it, reveled in your presence.

“What a lovely song for a lovely girl.” He smiled, actually smiled. BIlly hadn’t done that in a long time.

“Now, the real question is, when did you happen to stumble on lil ol’ me?” 

“When you were singing. It was a truly lovely song darlin’.” He smiled again, starting to hum along with you. The two of you harmonizing, fully in sync. It was as if you two had known each other forever and not just strangers who had a chance meeting in the forest. He held his hand out to you, urging you with his ocean eyes to take it and dance with him. 

Of course, how could you ever say no to a prince like Billy.

You both started to hum, sing, and sway, laughing as you two danced the rest of the day away. The sky had turned dark by the time you two started to walk back upstream. You had continued to hum as you led Billy back to the cottage that was your whole world.

As your wooden cottage came into view, you turned to Billy to see his reaction. Everything about Billy entranced you, from the way his lips moved when he hummed and spoke to the movement of his hands as he moved.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” 

“And, what a lovely abode it is, princess.” Billy smiled, looking down. He knew what this meant, you were going to go inside and this whole dream would end. He’d never see you again and he would continue his life on the run like nothing had ever happened.

You noticed his eyes stewing, like he was biting his tongue. You aunts always did so when they were hiding something from you. You didn’t want this dream to end either. You didn’t want Billy to leave, leaving you alone in an empty cottage and an even emptier heart. Which is why as you slowly approached the door, you also slowly grew the courage to finally ask him….

“Well, wanna come in?”

thank you for reading!

and stay tuned for part two because there is just so much i have planned for this

[eyeritestuff]

“I wish I had a mouth..”

Billy Kid x Reader

—X—

A/N: we need more billy kid fanfics. also, excuse grammar errors i’m struggling to get back into writing lalala

CW: mentions of NSFW, but i don’t go into explicit details :P

Reader: Gender Neutral [they/them]

—X—

Your boyfriend was clingy.

Very clingy… but so are you!

Being a human/humanoid being, it was hard enough in battle having the physical limitations you did, but when it came to your robotic boyfriend, it was scary to give or receive that physical love you both adored and craved so much. Luckily, Billy made sure to limit himself and be extra careful with you. His care is what made you value him that much more. For example, when Billy hugged you, he would snake his arms around your waist, and gently squeeze. There’s also the moments when he wants to hold your hand. Billy would make sure to gently tap the inside of your palm and wait with an open hand for you to reciprocate.

In bed, he was extra careful. Making sure to ask things along the lines of ‘Is everything okay?’, ‘Are you comfortable?’, and ‘Can I touch you here/there?’.

There of course were times, despite the cautions, you would move on instinct and hurt yourself. For example, you’d go for a hug, forget that he’s made metal, and hit your head. There was also times where you’d hold his hand and get pinched between his joints. The funniest of them all were the times where you’d kiss him and accidentally hit your forehead on his.

It’s just human to be clumsy.

He loved that about you.

Billy loved how humans and their bodies worked, and he often showed that fascination where he would do things like holding your hand out and examining it, only to hold his own up and examine the similar parts and pieces. You sometimes got worried about how he compared himself to you, but there’s nothing to worry about because it’s one of those innocent curiosities. He perfectly content with being a machine, but there are certain limitations in his design that make him grumpy. Limitations that were, unfortunately, made prevalent when you two started dating.

You didn’t realize this until one day you two cuddled up in his bed watching Starlight Knight together. Billy sat with his legs crossed, hunched over in shrimp position, and you sat in his lap, leaning back into his chest, and holding a large plushie replication of a Bangboo. He had a large blanket draped over him that he made sure to wrap it in a way so that you’d also be covered. Both sets of eyes glued were glued to the screen, and the scene that was on was one where one of the main characters had received a kiss from the space princess they had just saved from imminent doom.

“I wish I had a mouth..”

You positioned yourself enough to turn and look up at your boyfriend with a curious smile, only for it to drop when you realized his eyes animated downwards. Ohhh, you hated when Billy was sad.

“Wha..? Why?” You asked, placing a hand on the side of his face and stroking it gently with your thumb. A robotic sigh could be heard from him, and he paused the show.

“It’s a super embarrassing reason..” You giggled when you saw the blush lines light up on his face, knowing that at least he had some humor left in him.

“Well, Billy, having a mouth has never stopped you from being yourself..” You replied.

“Yes it has!” He whined, making you scoff. In your head, you were thinking he wanted one to show he was talking.. but oh, how wrong you were.

Leaning back, you grabbed his hand and started tracing over the intricate details of it, kissing it, and then going back to studying it. “Why would you want one?” You asked.

“.. I can feel everything.. The way you feel is.. Y/n, your lips.. I just wanna be able to experience that. It’s hard not being able to kiss you. Not just on your lips, but everywhere.. you’re so amazing and...” He trailed off, failing to express himself in the way he wanted to. He frustratedly sighed, slumping over, and his head on top of yours, “I just feel like I’m falling short when it comes to loving you properly.. I dunno, it’s hard to explain..”

Your heartstrings were cutting your circulation, to say the least. You got up and turned your whole body to face Billy, straddling him, and then placing both hands on his shoulders, you shook him back and forth.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!,” you started, screaming so loud it made him jolt and reply with a small scream of his own. You stopped and continued, “Billy, you’re perfect. Literally. Even without all the extra features, you are perfect to me. I don’t care about what you don’t have, I care about what you do have..” Your concerned face started to wash away, watching his eyes grow in shock. Replacing concern was a lovestruck.

“Y/n..” He mumbled, barely audible. You continued, though, wanting to know exactly how much you loved him.

“I love you. I really do. You care so much about me, down to the way you hold me. That attention to detail is so… it’s so endearing and honestly, a turn on in some instances,” you felt your face heat up, but you pressed on, “I wouldn’t change you for the world because your expression of love, physical and emotional, are one of the things that I love about you. Don’t think for a second that you need to change yourself for me. Ever.”

“… Really..?” Billy asked, his trembling like he was about to cry. You smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek and nodded, “Yes, really!”

Billy chuckled and sighed, “..Are you sure..?” You giggled, noticing he was joking. “Yes, I’m sure..”

“Soooo, what you’re saying is.. my fingers are enough fore—”was all Billy could manage before you pushed him down and started suffocating him with the Bangboo plushie. His voice was replaced by muffled laughs and struggling noises.

“ENOUGH OF YOU.” You said, burning red in the face. You let him go after a minute or two, and his childish laughs and giggles got louder.

“I had to ask..!” You huffed at his reply and turned away to pout. Billy sat back up and rested his hands onto your hips and his eyes smiled. “Imagine if I had a tongue..”

Turning back to look at him you gasped and started yanking his hair, making him yelp. “CAN WE NOT??! IM TRYING TO BE SENTIMENTAL!”

“Yank it harder,” Billy started to laugh, only making you give up and let go, “Y’know I like it rough, baby..~” He jokingly followed up. You snorted and cracked a smile at his fake sexy voice, and sighed nodding your head.

“Okay, okay.. for realsies this time, Y/n..?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.. it means the world to me.”

—X—

A/N: billy uses humor to cope during serious situations, that’s my HC yeah.. anyways, i didn’t proofread this :3

[happy74827]

He’s Got The Fire

[Johnny Lawrence x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: To your surprise, Johnny shows up at your window unannounced, but it doesn’t take long to realize it’s not for kicks {GIF Creds: pilvimarja}.

WC: 2076

Category: Slight Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff, Introverted(ish)!Reader

Honestly, I’m surprised I haven’t started writing this franchise earlier given how it’s about equal with my love for BTTF

『••✎••』

The sun had already gone down a while ago, the air was crisp, and the sky was starry. It was the perfect evening to watch the moon rise. The wind carried a chill, and the trees were almost bare, swaying in the breeze.

With a sigh, you closed the book you had been reading and stretched your legs, looking out the window of your room. By now, everyone had been asleep for a few hours, and you worked on upcoming assignments to pass the time. But when you had gotten to your last one, you just couldn't be bothered anymore, so you set it aside.

The quietness was nice, and the light from the moon cast a blue-ish glow on everything around you. You were so calm, but there was still something that had you feeling off.

Johnny.

He was never around much lately. It wasn't surprising, but it was disheartening. Ever since that championship loss a while back, he had been training even harder, and when he wasn't training, he was out doing god-knows-what.

You understood how important Cobra Kai was to him, but the fact that he was putting everything else on the back burner really had you worried. He had a tendency to go down the wrong path and not think about the consequences until after the fact. You hoped that wasn't what was happening this time.

Pulling your knees up, you rested your head on them and looked out at the night. There was a full moon, and you wondered if Johnny had noticed. He used to love taking walks at night just to see the moon and look up at the stars.

He had changed so much since then. That fire inside of him burned so brightly that sometimes you wondered if it would burn him, too.

Sitting like that for a while, you lost track of time. It was easy to get distracted and drift away from reality when your mind wandered. It was something you were trying to work on, and you were actually doing pretty well.

Until you heard a pang on your window.

Sitting up, you looked around, wondering if a bird had flown into it, but you saw nothing. Your mind immediately went to a branch falling or something like that, and you were ready to dismiss the strange noise and go back to daydreaming.

But the pang came again, and your heart leaped in your throat. You stood and cautiously moved toward the window. At the same time, a face popped up from below, and you shrieked.

He motioned for you to open the window, along with attempts to hush you. It was a very frantic gesture, and you felt your heart rate rise. You quickly opened the window and stuck your head out.

"Johnny?!" You whispered-yelled, and he was pulling himself up. "What are you doing?"

"Shhh!" He held a finger to his lips and looked behind him, and your eyebrows furrowed.

"Johnny-"

"Do you want the whole neighborhood to know I'm here? Let me in!"

You stared at him for a moment longer before helping him through the window. It didn’t go as smoothly as one would expect, like the movies, but he managed to tumble in. You stood there, arms folded, as he dusted himself off.

You haven’t seen him in so long, and the day you choose to miss him, he shows up out of nowhere. You would’ve called yourself psychic if it weren’t for the fact that Johnny always did the unexpected.

He looked… good, to say the least. The red jacket still fit him perfectly; his blonde hair was combed and fluffy, and his eyes were still focused and alert, even if his body language seemed a little sluggish.

To be honest, Johnny was the most beautiful person you had ever laid eyes on. His sharp jawline, his toned muscles, and that cocky smile of his. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed and the way he always looked at you like you were the only girl in the world.

For a while, you didn’t understand why he chose to pursue you, of all people. He could have anyone he wanted. You weren't exactly a social butterfly, and you always got nervous and shy in the presence of others.

Johnny was the opposite of you. He was outgoing, and his charisma attracted everyone to him. And the way his voice was so smooth and deep. He could be the most annoying person on the planet, but when he said your name, you would melt.

So when he asked you out, you thought it was some sort of joke. I mean, he was the hottest guy in school. And you were just… you.

But then you realized there was more to him than just the bad boy exterior. He had a sensitive side, and his vulnerability was endearing. His family was… well, a lot. His mom was nice, but she had her fair share of issues, and his stepfather was a piece of work.

It only took one date to realize the Johnny you were accustomed to wasn’t the real him. The real him was like you… except he could kick ass and had some pent-up anger issues.

And yet, here you were.

"Johnny-" You began, but he stepped toward you and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You stood stiffly, arms at your sides.

"God, I've missed you."

That was the last thing you expected him to say. You felt your face heat up, your chest warm up, and your shoulders slumped. You melted into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him.

"I've missed you too."

You could feel him grin against the top of your head, and he squeezed you a little tighter. He was so warm, and it made you forget the fact that he was literally climbing through your window at almost midnight.

After a minute or so, he pulled away and held your face in his hands. You were looking into those piercing blue eyes, and you could feel butterflies in your stomach.

"Why are you here?" You asked, your voice a little above a whisper.

He hesitated, and that was the moment you knew something was wrong. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I, uh… I needed to see you."

You raised an eyebrow, but you didn't say anything. You were waiting for him to elaborate, but when he didn't, you sighed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the bed. You sat on the edge, and he followed.

"Johnny," You said, turning toward him and placing a hand on his knee. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

"Nothing, I just… wanted to see you."

You didn't say anything. You knew better than that. So you waited.

"Okay, okay," He sighed. "Look, I'm not gonna lie to you, but I can’t tell you why."

"That's reassuring."

"It's just… things are… well, I just needed to get away. It's nothing, I'm fine, don't worry."

You were silent. You didn't really know what to say. There was so much going on, and it was hard for you to believe him when he told you not to worry.

"Is it… Is it Sid? Your mom?"

"Just…” He shook his head and stood, rubbing the back of his neck. He started pacing, and that was when you knew he was really upset. “Just drop it, alright? Everything's fine."

“You ignored me for the past two weeks, Johnny. Something is wrong."

He stopped and glared at you, and you froze. You were taken aback by the expression on his face. He seemed frustrated and almost angry.

The look… you knew it wasn’t directed at you, but you couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. He was always so hot-headed and stubborn, and when his mood shifted, you had a hard time knowing what to do.

He seemed to realize his expression and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh.

"Sorry, God, I'm sorry, it's not you. I'm just-" He sighed and plopped back down on the bed next to you, running his hands over his face. "I'm a fucking mess, okay? Just forget I came."

It was weird how, in certain situations, you could completely shift into a different person. You’ve seen it in movies and TV, and it was a cliche. You didn’t think it would ever happen to you.

And yet, the second you heard the words come out of his mouth, you were hit with an overwhelming urge to turn his head towards yours, grab his face in your hands, and kiss him.

So you did.

You couldn’t really tell him why you did it. It just felt like the right thing to do, and it was an impulse. You figured it was the best way to let him know that you were here and he wasn’t alone.

The second your lips met, he was leaning into you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer. You could feel the passion and desperation behind the kiss, and it took you a moment to match his energy.

He was rough and intense, and he pulled away after a few moments, moving to your neck. You gasped and gripped the collar of his jacket, feeling the heat of his lips on your skin.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say. And it was true. You had missed him more than you had thought. You had almost forgotten how much of a force he was to be reckoned with.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to form words, but failing. Instead, you tugged on his jacket and pulled him towards you, hoping he would get the message.

And he did.

His lips found yours again, and he was pushing you back, holding himself above you with one hand. His other was moving up your shirt, his fingers grazing your stomach, causing goosebumps to rise.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers danced across your ribs. His lips were rough, but they moved with such grace and delicacy it was hard to keep up.

He pulled away for a moment, and you looked up at him, catching your breath. His blonde hair was messy, and his eyes were a little hooded. He looked like a mess, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

You reached up and brushed his hair back, giving him a soft smile.

“Is that…” His eyes peered away from you, and you raised an eyebrow. "Do you still have that damn elephant?"

Your eyes followed his, and you spotted the elephant in question. It was a gift Johnny had given you back when things were different. Come to think of it, you weren’t even sure you were together at that point.

"Why wouldn't I?" You asked, and he chuckled. “Ozzy's special."

"You named it? What are you, ten?"

You swatted his arm, and he laughed again. His eyes found yours, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. It felt like old times.

"Don't make fun of him. You gave him to me."

"Yeah, whatever," He rolled his eyes, but his smile remained. "Can't believe you kept him."

"I keep a lot of stuff, Johnny. Especially when they're meaningful."

He was silent for a moment, his eyes still focused on you. The moonlight was shining through the window and casting a shadow on his face.

"I keep a lot of things, too."

Before you could say anything, he was leaning down and kissing you again. You could tell this one was different, more meaningful, like he was pouring his heart and soul into the kiss.

And he was.

He wanted you to know how he felt about you without actually saying it. And although you weren’t really sure what was going on, you had a feeling this was what it was.

The fire inside of him was burning again, but finally, after so long, he realized that he needed to take a breather every now and then. Add some water to the flames.

It was a delicate balance. And although he may be bad at showing his feelings, talking about them, or acknowledging them, you were there to make sure he didn't lose himself in the heat.

And maybe, just maybe, the flame was a little more subdued, and the burn a little less harsh.

[jacesvelaryons]

spicy links (pt 2).

coriolanus snow

william bonney/billy the kid

tom blyth

y'all loved it so much the first time I had to do a part two. I thought about it and even better, I'm adding a tom segment for yours truly.

please comment, like, reblog, follow me and send me requests. my inbox is open for both link and written/soc med au requests. or if you just wanna talk to me, mwah.

part one.

requests open.

coryo

to serve

from behind

juice

head down

legs up

controller

rough

hands up

on a leash

feeling good

just the tip

dominate

billy

messy

eye contact

lazy

using mouth

sixty nine

admiring

take the lead

nice and slow

face riding

rutting

passion

tom

stress balls

slaps

like candy

work for it

size kink

lazy

sweetness

paint it white

the view

please me

lazy in bed

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

The Fight || Billy The Kid x reader

Summary: Billy involves himself in a physical fight over you.

Warnings: violence, swearing, blood

Wc: 1,347

A/n: uh- this is my very first time writing a Billy fic so pls bear w me (especially w how they talk and stuff) bc in the the series I don’t really find Billy talking like how ppl write abt him (absolutely not hate whatsoever to those who do, I absolutely love ur fics find you all so talented 😭) so I’ll try my best to be as accurate as I can. Do let me know if I make a mistake so I can improve :)

Divider by @pommecita

"I'd fuck her any day if she wasn't whoring herself for him," Ollinger slurs, throwing his head back to let the contents of the bottle run down his throat as the men around him laugh. Billy's head pikes up at the sound. Typical Ollinger, talking about some woman as if she was an object.

Billy watches from the other side of the room as he continues to talk to them, his voice becoming louder by the second. "hot for a fucking gringo, and that's saying something," He shakes his head his eyes half close by how wasted he was.

"Wonder how Billy would feel if I had her, don't think he's too keen on sharin?" He nudges the guy beside him before bursting out laughing. Hearing this, he realises that Ollinger was talking about you. Calling you a whore.

He slammed the bottle in his hand down on the table making a loud noise. Pat Garrett and Jessie slightly flinch before they look up at Billy who was already standing, fuming.

"What's goin' on?" Pat asks, his eyes trying to follow Billy's line of gaze. Billy doesn't answer, instead, he storms over to where Bob Ollinger was and his friends. They were all laughing until one of the guys ushered everyone and tapped Ollinger to face Billy.

He slowly turned around, seemingly not bothered by Billy's presence or the fact that he towered over him. "Have something to say 'bout my girl Ollinger? Hm?" He stands his ground, taking another swig of his alcohol as he maintains eye contact with Billy. Everyone in the room had quietened down, eyes trained on the two who never got along.

"Maybe. Wanna hear what I gotta say Billy?" He smirks as Pat Garret and Jessie had already stood up from where they were. Billy narrows his eyes at the man. "I think she's a pretty little gringa you got there, but she needs a real man, not some kid like you-" "You're fucking pathetic, y'know that?" Billy spat, venom laced in his words.

Ollinger seemed to have sobered up when he said that. He looked at Billy with pure rage. "What’d you call me, boy." His blood was boiling at this point. "I said." Billy steps closer, "You're fucking pathetic." He threw a punch at his jaw as Ollinger falls back from the impact and his lack of balance.

At this point the room was cheering the two on as they throw punches at each other. Ollinger swings at Billy but misses, he was glad he wasn't drinking as much that night. He then lunges and aims towards Billy's stomach, knocking him onto the table as all its contents fell on the floor. "C'mon Billy get up!" Garrett pushes him back up.

Billy had a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow as a trail of blood fell down the side of his face. However, it was nothing compared to the damage he did on Ollinger. "Call a whore one more time, I dare you," Billy yelled, throwing punch after punch as he was on top of him. "Billy! Billy stop!" Billy heard your familiar voice but didn't stop. All he could see was red.

From the moment you stepped foot out of your carriage that dropped you off in front of the pub, you knew a brawl of some sort was going on inside by the way you could hear cheers and the noise of furniture being knocked over.

You hurriedly walk in. You couldn't see what was going on over the tall people who stood in front of you. Weaving your way through the crowd to try and see what the commotion was about, you bumped into Jessie. "Woah there-" "Jessie, what's going on? Where's Billy?" You quickly ask him before your eyes fall onto him.

He was on top of Ollinger, throwing punch after punch. Your eyes widen in horror as you try to go to him but was held back by Jessie who had an arm around your shoulder. "Let me go! I need to stop him Jessie!" You struggle against his iron like grip. "Can't have you get involved in fight, sweetheart. Can’t let you goin' home with a scratch on your pretty face now can I?"

He says against the side of your face as you squirm, helplessly watching the fight. There was blood everywhere and you feared that Billy had killed Ollinger. "Jessie!" You thrash in his grip before he gives Garrett a look who nods and quickly breaks up the fight.

"That's enough, Billy. You got what you wanted," Pat and few other guys pulled Billy back who was breathing heavily, blood covered his shirt and hands. Billy spits on the ground. "All right, show's over!" Jessie yells as people start leaving. Ollinger gets pulled up by a few others as he's dragged away, his body limp.

"Don't you fucking go near her! You hear me Ollinger?" Billy yells before he spits more blood out. "Enough, Billy!" You exasperated, kneeling beside him to take his face in your hands, inspecting it.

Thank god there wasn’t much damage, only a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow. “For god’s sake Billy! What happened now?” You search his eyes as he stares back at you, blankly. You catch Pat and Jessie looking at you before their eyes find the floor rather interesting. You stand up, dress already spotted in crimson as you brush the loose strands of your hair behind your ears, “What happened here?”

~

You made a beeline to your bathroom. Billy closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed, he let out a groan before falling back onto the soft mattress. He starts to sit up when he hears you walk back in, a first aid kit in your hands.

You hadn't spoken a word to him since the two of you left the pub and came back to your house. You were grateful that your parents were away for the week, they would have thrown a fit if they saw you covered in blood and Billy batted up.

Moving to stand in between his legs, Billy lifts his hands up to rest on your hips but you slap his hands away. "Darlin'-" "I don't want to hear it Billy," You say, annoyance dripping from you voice as he hisses at the contact of disinfectant on his cut.

Billy lets out a sigh, his eyes trained on your angel like face as you attend to his face. "I'm sorry, I really am-" "Five times. Five times you've gotten into a fight because of me." You scoff, tilting his head firmly as you go over his eyebrow.

"You told me you would stop Billy. I can't keep playing nurse with you because you can't bite your tongue," You make eye contact with him. "You expect me to just sit around and do nothing when some guy is calling you my whore?" Billy's voice gets louder as he furrows his eyebrows at you.

You gulp, eyes looking everywhere but him. "Look at me!" He grips your chin with his thumb and index finger, "You've known me long enough to know I ain't that type of guy," He spoke, his eyes darkening.

"And you've known me long enough to know that I can handle whatever they call me. I don't need you getting into a fight every time someone foul mouths me," Your eyes begin to water. You hated seeing Billy like this. You hated how most of his fights revolved around the topic of you.

"They're all worth it, doll. You're worth it." Billy wipes away the singular tear that managed to escape. You sniffle lightly before he pulls you onto his lap, your arms securing themselves around his neck as he strokes your hair.

"Try not to get into another fight because of me," You mutter, your fingers drawing random shapes on his back as you hear him chuckle, "Can't keep any promises, darlin'" He kisses your hair as the two of you hold each other.

[irenebullocks]

Really?! After I just finished taping my heart back together?! Come on!

⋆౨ৎ𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓕𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓐𝓬𝓽⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: copious amounts of angst, death, graphic description of blood pairing: billy the kid x fem reader author’s note: guys...what if I quit writing and delete my blog this hurt so bad Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

You lived in everything.

Billy saw your essence tangled in wildflowers, swimming amongst the glitter of the sun reflecting off the surface of water. All that was good in the world, everything that brought forth a smile was rooted in you, he was convinced.

The one object of his affections, the recipient of his love, you were an angel of the highest order. In Billy's life, he'd never expected a woman to find it in her to love a man like him, let alone one as kindhearted as you. Open armed, endlessly forgiving. At the start of this, he had resolved to humble himself before you, to give you what little he had. It would never be enough, he knew. Not for a woman so beautiful she turned heads, so lovely that people were drawn to her like a hummingbird to a wildflower.

Holding you was paradise, kissing you was a strange kind of rush that he'd never get used to. To love someone so purely hadn't been in the cards for him. No, his hand had been repeatedly unlucky, robbing him of any pleasure life had to offer. But the universe had been holding out on him for now he had the best thing in it.

Billy's guilt nearly ruined the whole thing. He knew he was a whole lot less than you deserved, knew he was on borrowed time with you. Sometimes he wondered if the act of having you was a buildup, some new kind of cruel torture where he'd get to taste bliss only for it to be ripped away. With the law on his tail at every turn, he feared the life he'd built would be ripped away at the seams.

Every night when he crawled into bed, weary from the day's work, uttering quiet apologies for making it back so late, you would roll over and burrow into his chest. No words exchanged; they didn't have to be. He'd press grateful kisses to your head and you'd smile sleepily with your eyes closed.

This was heaven. This was a haven. Life with you felt like a dream. He couldn't have imagined it in his wildest fantasies, not in the years he'd spent galloping aimlessly along the prairie with no end in sight. Until he'd stumbled upon an eternal sunbeam bound up in the skin of a beautiful woman.

Now, in the sacred hours of the morning, when waking was laced with dreams, Billy traced the contours of your face with a single finger. Newborn sunlight was seeping through the cracks of the thin curtains, outlining your halo in delicate lines. He held you carefully, as if with one wrong move you'd crack under his hands and disappear into dust.

Your eyelashes fluttered and lifted as the first breath of waking drew from your lips. He watched, transfixed by your every detail, as you began to stir, turning sleepily on your side to snuggle deeper into his arms. It was a routine, one that would never take its place on the shelf of the mundane. He treasured it. Safety, one of the few things in the world he possessed that was adequate to give to you.

Lifting his hand to your hair, he ran two fingers over where it met your forehead like the tide to the sand: tracing the expanse and tucking a strand behind your ear. Billy loved your hair, fingered it like strands of spun gold, twisted it around his fingers in leisurely moments. He leaned down, lips meeting your temple as a quiet good morning.

Outside, the birds were chattering, speaking amongst themselves about the course of the day. The earth was coming alive as you were, as if it had waited for sleep to lift its heavy head from your shoulder.

"Mm," you hummed, nudging your head against his chest. Billy rubbed a hand up your back, where your sleep shirt had ridden up- one of his shirts. He drew hearts into your skin, his fingers the pen.

"Sleepy?" he murmured, using one hand to pull the blanket up over you without letting go. You were always tossing and turning in the night, no matter how sound you slept. It wasn't an uncommon sight for the sheets to be tangled around your legs come morning.

Nodding hazily, you rested one hand flat on his chest. Your left hand, perfect and smooth, only void of one thing: his ring. Billy had it hidden in a special place, waiting for the absolute perfect moment to ask the most important question he ever would. Maybe it was silly, maybe it was old-fashioned, but he wanted it to be special. His mama hadn't raised a gentleman for nothing.

For now he resolved to hold you tight, relishing the angel in his arms. The needs of the day were creeping close, and he didn't want to lose a single second he could be with you. Life gave and it took away-for every task he did reluctantly, he received another day with you.

When it was finally time to relent and drag himself out of bed, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, squeezing you one last time and rising. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Billy drearily donned his work clothes, buttoning his shirt and pulling each suspender up over a shoulder. He sat at the edge of the bed to tug his boots on one by one.

From where he was sitting, Billy rolled over onto his stomach, crawling back to you without letting his boots touch the bed. Positioned half on top of you, he folded his arms, pressing gentle kisses to your cheeks. "You'll be okay, hm?"

"I'll be okay," you promised, one hand dragging up to his hair, fingers combing through it. Your smile was still lined with exhaustion, and his own lips turned up at the sight.

"Sleepy girl," he muttered, eliciting a breathy laugh from you. Billy leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Rest your eyes a little longer. I'll be back in a couple hours, mkay?"

"Mkay," you echoed, and he smiled, thumbing the side of your face once before crawling off the bed and getting to his feet.

With one final lingering look at the pretty girl nestled all cozy in his bed, Billy plucked his hat from the hook on the wall and crammed it on his head, opening and shutting the door gently. His boots clunked a comforting rhythm on the wooden floor, and already he was looking forward to coming back home.

The windows were broken.

That was the first thing Billy noticed when he returned. Gaping holes in the glass, the clear substance scattered across the surrounding grass.

His foot nearly caught in the stirrup as he struggled to get down, paling when he noticed the door was ajar, swinging lazily from previous motion.

In an instant, he was scurrying up the steps, only one thing on his mind. You were still home...he'd left his girl all alone... Flinging the door open, he shouted your name hurriedly, eyes blown wide open as he searched for you. You weren't in the kitchen, nor the bedroom, though the sheets were messy, bed still unmade from this morning. From the paradise he'd separated himself from.

The house was empty, that much was clear. Void of any sign of you. It was both relieving and terrifying. A raw, biting feeling gnawed at his gut. Something's not right. Had you gone for a walk in the nearby forest as you often did, narrowly avoiding the break in? Or had you heard the commotion and managed to escape? He found himself praying, a pleading in his heart to whatever higher power was kind enough to listen. Please let her be okay. Please let her be safe.

Billy tossed his hat aside and rested a hand against the doorframe, any previous energy sapped from him like syrup from a maple tree. His heart pounded an echoing beat into his ribcage, mind overwrought with worries. Where were you?

His prayers began to change. I'll leave her behind so she's safe forever if that's what it takes. All this time he'd thought his presence was protecting you, but if it wasn't he would disappear without a backwards glance, no matter how much it would pain him and you to do so. Maybe you would be better off, without the ever present threats hanging over your heads.

He had been careless to show you off the way he did, to put a target on your back like that. Yet another reason you didn't deserve him. You were a treasure of the highest value, one that shouldn't be kept locked away. It was an impossible situation that he nearly brought himself to tears over. Where was a solution where he could love you and have you and keep you safe at the same time?

Billy wandered over to the kitchen window, despondent and fraught with anxiety. He lifted his eyes wearily to the garden, before something he spotted made his body freeze.

Time went motionless, the seconds seeming to tick backwards and forwards all at once. Billy could have sworn he felt his heart stop for just a moment as the realization carved him open from the inside, bones on display, vulnerable to the attack of emotion beating at them like hail.

His body reacted before he did, feet carrying him out of the house, down the porch steps and into the garden, where your broken body lay like a fallen bird in your beloved patch of flowers, the ones you'd planted early spring. They had begun to wilt at the end of the summer, and now they were your deathbed.

Blood spilt from the gaping wound in your chest, spattering the surrounding petals with crimson. Your white dress, the one you'd always giggled about marrying him in someday, was ruined by the sticky substance, like your heart was bleeding out.

In an instant he was kneeling before you, sliding his arms under your body and lowering himself to you, resting sideways in the flowers like he had this morning in bed. Your eyes were wide open, breathing no more than a whisper, but still there. Achingly, you choked, "Billy...Billy..."

Every portion of his body was drawn taut, the pure shock of the sight before him rendering him useless for anything except holding you. He stroked your hair, trying to soothe you despite the circumstances wearing away at time. "Baby..."

Now you were practically choking on air, brows drawn together, lips parted as you trembled, reaching for him. "I don't wanna die...Billy..."

He could feel tears stinging at his eyes, but held back for your sake, calling on every slight of resistance he possessed. "It's okay, sweet girl," he breathed, bringing you up to his chest with no more than a whimper from you. "Shh, I've got you. You're not alone. I'm here 'n I ain't leavin' you ever again."

"I'm sorry," you managed, chest trembling as tears soaked your cheeks. "I don't wanna...leave you...alone..."

He bowed his head, burying his nose in your hair, body rocking back and forth to soothe you. The last thing Billy wanted was for your final moments to be in distress. Not when the way in which you had lived had so clearly been the opposite. "Shh, sweet girl. You just rest. You were so tired before-" Tears pricked the back of his eyes and he cut himself off, swallowing thickly. Unable to keep the emotion from his voice, he continued. "Everything's okay, my love. I've got you."

Even his love had to be tainted by violence, from beginning to end. Billy smoothed your hair, dried your tears with his fingers, did anything to distract himself from the fact that he'd have to love you longer than he had you. He slid his hand under your jaw, all the while cradling you against him, ignoring your blood seeping through his clothes. Though his chest was heaving and his voice was broken, he found a melody on his tongue, the only thing he could think of to comfort you now.

"As Kathleen fair beyond compare, asleep upon a bank I spied." Tears seeped into each word as he tried to carry the tune. "All upon tiptoe I sought her side, and kissed her down in the daisies." Your breathing grew steadier, and he tried to smile for you, assure you in some way. "But up she starts and on me darts, the shafts of scorn from lip and eye."

Sometimes when you had trouble falling asleep, he'd gather you in his arms and hum quietly, relaxing your body and slipping you into your dreams. This song had been your favorite of the folk tunes in his repertoire, the ones his mother taught him.

Indeed now, it was working its magic, and you looked up at him, your lips turning up just slightly, tears like crystal pearls sliding down your cheeks like rain on a windowpane. He continued to rock you back and forth, grasping you tight as life drained from you quickly as your blood had. "Then in a storm goes sweeping by, and leaves me alone with the daisies."

Your body grew heavy, eyes hazy in a way that made him want to beg, plead, scream at the sky for some kind of answer. You were all he had in the world, his purpose, his love. Desperately, he grasped at you, leaning his forehead down to press a single kiss to your lips. It was the last kiss that mattered. But he hadn't thought it would come so soon.

Now the tears on your cheeks were not only your own. His salt mingled with yours, and he reached his thumb up to brush them away, finishing the song in a cracked whisper.

"But when next day I chanced that way, there Kathleen blushed in all her charms, with sighs she sank into my arms, and we told our love to the daisies."

Billy didn't open his eyes, but the moment you took your final breath he felt it. For a moment he pretended you were only sleeping, that his singing had done the trick and eased you into a dream from which you would wake in the morning. You would snuggle into his side like you always did, ask him for five more minutes before he left. And he would give it to you, never deprive you of anything ever again. "My girl," he breathed raggedly. "Please-"

If you were smiling at him, heart beating steadfastly under his hand when he opened his eyes, he'd give up the gun forever and marry you and relocate somewhere secret and never go another day without showing you how absolutely you consumed him. He'd do all the things he should have done before, everything he'd been putting off. He'd forget about the bastards who'd ended your life simply because you loved him and just be grateful you were still here.

But when he finally lifted his lids, yours were shut, already deep into an eternal rest from which he could never wake you. Not even with his softest kisses, his gentlest of touches. Billy didn't know that he would ever be able to accept what would never be. He would never get to slide his ring on your finger, never see your belly round with his child. He would never see the first strands of grey in your hair or hear your laugh or see your smile directed at him like sunshine in this life.

Still, he grasped at you, held you tightly to his chest, supporting your head when it lulled backward limply. Still, he rocked you back and forth, comforting you when you were long gone. His girl, his baby, his love and light. Right now he clung to every memory in fear that he would lose it. Billy knew how the aftermath of death went. He knew someday he would forget how you smelled, what your voice sounded like, how it felt to hold you. Even though he'd spend whatever time he had left missing it.

There was nothing stopping him from digging your grave and flinging himself in it beside you, no outside force preventing him from finding who'd killed you and begging them to take him too. Your last words: I don't wanna leave you alone.

At that, his tears began to fall, pouring torrentially down his cheeks and silencing any logic. Destiny was cruel, mistaking you for star-crossed when you were meant to be written in the stars. Billy wept into your hair, hoping your spirit wasn't watching. The crush of emotion cracked his being open and let forth everything he'd tried to keep underneath. His strength was fraying, its heart silenced.

You made a mistake, he wanted to shout. You were never supposed to take her. Suddenly the rest of his life stretched out before him like a woeful march, highlighting everything he would have to do without you. What was a soul without its mate, a lover without his love? Loss consumed him like a wildfire, flames licking at his chin. He let himself burn.

Your body was growing icy, and he squeezed you tight to him, rubbing his arms over your body. You hated being cold. His darling sweetheart would cuddle up to him no matter the weather if you felt so much as a goosebump. Billy sheathed you into him, passing you his body heat fruitlessly.

He had to let go. The thought probed Billy unwillingly, and he shook his head, feeling like a child. He didn't want to. He didn't want to dig you a crude grave and lay your broken body down, letting the earth hold you instead of him. He didn't want to say goodbye. He didn't want to wash his hands and body of your blood and burn the clothes it had stained. It felt like tossing aside a piece of you, when there were scarcely any left. Soon, the only thing remaining would be memory.

Billy set that dreadful idea adrift, letting it float out to sea. The waves would lap at it and bring it back to the shores of his mind eventually, but for now it was far away. He breathed in a shuddering way, lips finding your temple and pressing there.

"I've got you, sweetheart," he breathed, caressing your stiffening body. At the very least, he was glad you hadn't been alone. "Just rest."

No longer in an ocean, it drifted around him like coyotes circling a lonely traveler, baring its teeth and poising to strike, launching itself at him and consuming all that he held dear. He squeezed his eyes shut, having hoped shoving it down would erase its fruition. But it bloomed in his broken soul like the flowers you'd died atop.

The final act of love is letting go.

[billysgun]

quiet

billy the kid x wife!reader 18+ |requested!|you and billy have sex for the first time since the birth of your baby girl, and you have to keep your needy moans quiet so she won't wake|

"fuck me..." billy whispered as his eyes raked over your body, breasts big and milk-filled as you lay under him

you let out a little giggle and noticed how his cock twitched, you both are bare as he hangs above you, shamelessly drinking you up.

"come on, cowboy. I didn't wait two months for eye fuckin'"

he chuckled, hot breath in the nook of your neck before they traveled down to your sore breasts where he peppers kisses on the achy buds

the midwives told you to wait two entire months since you gave birth before having sex to let you heal. it was unbearable. especially with billy's sex drive.

well, the clock striked 12 and your clothes are scattered as you try and keep the squeaking bed at bay, your baby girl a room over for privacy

"wait..." you say breathlessly and he stops his kisses, a worried expression flashes over him as you bite your lip in embarrassment at what you are about to ask

"what if she chokes? or falls out of her crib? or-"

"darlin' these walls are thin, I think I can hear her snorin'" he snorts but you're unamused, huffing as you cross your arms

"then she'll wake up from us!" you argue but he just shakes his head as he pushes your legs over his shoulder and fans his hot breath over your core

"then be quiet"

his words make you shiver but as his tongue licks up your slit you realize this is harder than you thought, back arching immediately and hand over your mouth

he moans into your pussy, your silky folds vibrating and you twist your eyes shut. he sucks at your clit mercilessly and you can't help the way your hips twitch

"billy, wai-" you came immediately, shocking both you and billy as you pant softly. humiliation flooding your cheeks as he laughs into your thighs

"that's not funny!" you cry out, voice low as you smack his shoulders and he just nods

"It's okay, honey. it happens" he reassures you and you roll your eyes

"let's see how long you last inside me" you playfully remark but he swallows hard, knowing how he was humping the bed moments before and had to stop himself from coming once he saw your naked body

"I reckon longer than you" still, he confidently says.

your brows shot up at his admission and gestured toward your center as you looked back up at him

"go on then"

he nodded and moved to align with you, hesitating before pushing the tip in and letting out a deep moan. you chuckled at him but he didn't care.

you've gotten fucking tighter, no way around it.

he pushes deeper into you and his mouth falls open as he tilts his head back, focusing on not coming as he's fully inside you.

"any day now" you cheekily say, trying to hide the whininess in your voice as he makes you stretch so perfectly

"I'm just-" he basically moans the words as his head rolls down to see you

"giving you time to adjust"

you giggle at his words but as his hips thrust, there were no more giggles as you moaned helplessly

he leaned down and sloppily kissed your cheek as his hips moved slowly, panting into the side of your face

"baby, bite the pillow" he groaned and you nodded teeth sinking into the feathers as he began to fuck you with his hips stuttering

"mm, fuuuck fuck fuck" he whined, choosing to cover your neck in kisses to distract the way you squeezed him

his cock made you dizzy as you grind with his thrusts, your eyes rolling back as even the pillow couldn't contain your moans

he cried as you clenched around him, his hips speeding up as he humped you like a fucking rabbit. he bit your shoulder softly as you scratched his back, letting a broken moan out before you came all around him.

you lay limp as he growled into your ear before shooting his load straight into your womb once more. falling on top of you as you both panted franticly

you lay for a few minutes until your ears popped and the room seemed clearer as you slowly came down from your high. your fingers brushed through his hair softly as your legs shook

and that's when the sound of cries rippled through your small home.

an: HAPPY LAST POST OF 2023 & HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! 🥳 I had to end the year off with smut and this AMAZING request, I literally loved writing this so much, thank you! and thank you to everyone, these past few months were surreal and I love you guys so much, thank you for all the support and I'm wishing you all an amazing new year <3

one more thing, the only reason readers boobs are described as "big" in the beginning is ONLY because she's breastfeeding and they are milk-filled, this was not to describe reader at all, trust me I have tiny little itty bitty boobs LOL

[mukbangg]

Size kink w Billy the kid and hes such a tall guy he towers over you and it's almost intimidating when you first meet him. You're more on the petite side, barely coming up to his shoulders when you're next to him and he loves it, constantly teasing you. You'd be mad if not for the shy smile that punctuates his sentence everytime, unable to stop that genuine burst of warmth in his chest when he looks at you.

Not so funny when you're under him and squeezing his cock so tight though.

You're small, and he finds that he can only fit in you fully after you've cummed twice, loosened up and loopy from his thick fingers and tongue.

And even then hes burying his face in your neck and breathing hard when he fits his swollen tip into your pussy that's already feels like its trying to milk him.

"Y'gotta relax for me, doll,"

He pleads with you, voice breaking when you clench around him again and he slides another inch into your sweet sweet cunny.

"M' tryinggg--!!"

You mewl in reply, nails digging into his nape while he grips your other hand, fingers interlocked by your head. You're teary-eyed and all gasping and whimpering, kiss-swollen lips glistening with your saliva as it dribbled down your chin.

Billy licks up the wet trail, pressing soft kisses to your pouty lips and whispering soft praises.

"S'good for me doll,"

"Just a little more...you can take it,"

And you're biting your bottom lip, snorting short bursts of pitchy whines and shaking your head and....oh.

Your head lolls back, eyes blown wide as his pelvis presses against yours, tip of his cock snug against your cervix. It's so full and you feel so stretched out and Billy's suddenly groaning low in his throat as your pussy pulses around him.

"Billy-"

But hes already cumming thick spurts straight into your womb, face buried into your neck as he whimpers apologies.

"Fffuuuckkk doll m'sorry m'sor-ry- jesus doll-"

I guess now you get to tease him back about being too "small" for him.

[irenebullocks]

This is the cutest thing omg!

i had a thought so HEAR ME OUT, so we know that billy runs from town to town but what if one time

he's riding out of a town that has already got his very wanted face up all over town so he has no choice but to ride away from that town and when while he's riding he finds a stream so he set's up camp for the night by the stream. he's already hunted his dinner and fed his horse, he has his fire and whatever he's eating roasting when he hears singing. gun at the ready, he's walking close and closer to the person singing when he see's you singing as you look for mushrooms or other plants by the stream. now billy can't stop staring at you, listening to the sweet melodic tune you're singing(i imagined this as 'i wonder' from sleeping beauty). he just can't take his eyes off of you and you finally turn to see him and you just greet him with a "why hello there" (with a lil wave or something).

and he is still just awestruck now that he can see your face, ofc he's in awe of your beauty. by now he's already holstered his gun and he just stands up walking to you with a little "howdy miss" and it just goes from there. you start talking, even asking if he'd like to stay with you for the night in your cabin where you were raised by your three aunts away from the corruptness of the town where billy had just run from (i also imagine that the aunts were away for the week selling their goods in town which is why you ask billy to stay over). i can also see billy teaching you about the world since you have been sheltered your whole life.

[julietsbody]

lace garters

words : 3,903

tags : 18+!!! mdni! escorts , sex work , reader ! sex worker , vaginal sex , finger fucking , finger sucking , porn with feelings , brothels , oral sex , save a horse ride a whattt

p.s : this is also posted on my ao3!! ( divider by siren4u & gif by drewstarkrs )

billy was a virgin, surprisingly, he didn’t have time for a girlfriend, and the quick fucks from the escorts never enticed him much. many offered, when he would stop quick at towns for a simple beer or to take care of things— he would typically get stopped by the escorts dressed in their gorgeous silks, tight corsets, and sleeves that fall off their shoulders so easily it has your fingers itching with desire to fix it. it would make even the most sane man turn mad, and somehow billy never allowed himself to fall for it. 

not until now, an escort stops him before he walks in a bar, “how old are you, dear?” 

“19, ‘bout to turn 20,” his voice is smooth and sweet, southern drawl sweeping out with ease. 

the girl hums out, tipping out of the way to allow his eyes to another girl standing far behind her, you, “you’re too young for me, dear, you should talk to her. she can show you a good time.”

typically billy would say no, offer a few coins for their efforts and simply walk into the bar like nobody had offered. but something was different when his eyes fell on you, you weren’t like the other escorts, quick to talk to the men and get some money for the events that take within the confines of the motel walls. you were rather looking off in the distance, your position more reserved rather than comfortable. it had him wanting to know more. 

to be fair, billy was bored these days, all he did was travel and go from town to town, never leaving a mark on those behind. other than his wanted posters, which by the way, had an awful drawing on it. how the hell was he ever supposed to get a girlfriend with drawings like that made about him? each step is slow, calculated, as he moves over to you. he notices that mid way, your attention seems forced away from him. 

are you afraid of him? he tips his head in your peripheral, easily looming over you, “darling.” 

your eyes snap to him almost immediately, widening as if you didn’t think it would truly be him, yet you mumble out a, “honey.” 

“lady over there told me to talk to you,” his head tips up, blue eyes piercing into you, even through the deepest of the night. 

“i don’t want trouble,” you finally turn to him, the smell of musk and gunsmoke filling your nose as he bites through the toothpick in his mouth, “i hear you’re wanted.” 

“wanted, but not trouble,” he corrects, smirk tugging at his right lip, “you don’t gotta tell anyone.” 

“wasn’t plannin’ on it,” your voice is so sweet, it nearly has him doubling over. you’re teasing him, clearly, but billy has never backed down to a challenge once in his life, he can bet on that. 

his eyebrow twitches upright slightly, “how much for thirty minutes, beautiful?” 

“you can satisfy me in thirty minutes?” you tease, smile widening at your own joke. 

his head cocks to the side, and he can’t help the way he licks his lips, cockiness coursing through his veins, “i probably could in ten.” 

you can’t help the way your flesh feels like rubber over molten, cheeks flaring to a new maroon that you hadn’t expected. your eyes dare to match his, the lust unsheathed in the teal of his eyes, “thirty will be just a few coins.” 

his hand moves to your jaw, tipping your head up further to look at him with ease, now you have no choice of looking away, “you don’t think i can in ten?” 

“i doubt it,” your skin is hot underneath his touch, despite your bold demeanor. 

“we’ll see.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the motel carried the same smell as it always did, the mix of mustiness, smoke from cigars, and whiskey. billy’s gut churned as you led him to the room that you always rented, surely, he was cocky at first— then he began to worry if he would even be good enough. he was a virgin, after all, and he’s sure you’d been with mostly experienced men. he doesn’t say anything once the door opens, seemingly every worry dissipates as you look back at him with a different look, your lashes flutter over your eyes with ease, the look is more seductive, siren like. 

if you were a siren, consider him the sailors in those tales, lost in the tides and addicted to the song that oozed out your vocals.

he allows you to guide him to the bed, sitting him down on the thin, firm mattress with your hands lingering on his shoulders, “what would you like me to do?” 

“i’d like for you,” he trails off, eyes tracing down your body, “to get on your knees.”

your hands leave his shoulders as you ever so slowly kneel down, every movement is well thought out, calculated, your body flowing in the most seductive ways. despite your lowered body, your eyes still remained up at him, the sudden doe look in your eyes making his legs spread ever so slightly. his hand is gentle when it touches your cheek again, pinky lining underneath your jawline as his thumb threatens against your lips. 

it’s dangerous, the way you look at him, like your gun is being drawn to him with your finger teasing the trigger. 

“and?” you add, his thumb teasing your now open lips. he tried not to flinch when your mouth encased his thumb, the warmth wetness of your mouth enveloping the skin. he finds himself unable to speak, unable to wonder whatever he wants— he wants to be stuck in this moment forever, it was greater than any other treasure he had come across. you were so good at your job, it made him want to know the lengths of your skills. 

“suck me off,” he finally speaks, gentle to remove his thumb from your mouth. 

it was a statement that you were used to, the firm tone, the expectation to get to it immediately— yet you are somehow surprised when it comes from him, it’s less firm, not like a demand but rather an offer, and there wasn’t a feeling of being rushed. for a man who seemingly had no time for women, he surely had a way to talk to them, to be gentler with them, unlike the other men. it was always cowboys who had the better ways of treating women, respectful with every word, or touch. his eyes are heavy on you, the curtains of your eyelashes blinking up to him, your lips tinted a sweet rouge due to a patted on lipstick, and he finds himself pushing his thumb across your lips, smudging the burgundy ever so slightly. 

your hands smooth over the fabric of his pants, fingertips teasing the leather of his belt which accompanied his gun holster as you palmed him through his slacks. the touch of the leather was rich, sturdy and every loop was clean cut, rather than loose and falling apart like many belts you had undone before. you hear him groan as your hand gently pushes against his clothed cock, his back stiffening ever so slightly as a chill runs up it. 

he tilts his head to the side ever so slightly as you undo his belt, your fingertips threateningly close to his gun holster as you pull the leather from the metal to loosen it. a chuckle vibrates from his chest, voice lower than usual, “careful, princess.” 

he lifts his hips as you tug down his pants, boxers following soon after to slip down to his ankles with ease. a hiss escapes him as soon as his hard dick is released to the cold air, with the opposing blow of your warm air on his tip. he was already so hard, as if he had been aching for a day like this. his hand moves to wrap around his base, hips scooting closer ever so slightly. 

“open,” his voice is husky, yet velvety, like the thorn of a rose to the petals. 

you’re quick to allow your jaw to fall slack, tongue smoothing out past the burgundy that coats your lips, as if you expected his next command. he taps his tip against your tongue, biting back the groan that thunders inside his every limb at the feeling of the warm, wet muscle. he allows you to take the lead, your tongue following the underside of his dick, memorizing each vein. when you reach his tip, you press a few sloppy kisses to it that has his breathing roughen, allowing you to open your mouth once more and take his length inside. 

he sucks in a deep breath, a hoarse groan escaping past his lips when he exhales, allowing his teeth clench on the thin wooden toothpick that still remained in his mouth. his head tips back when you hollow your cheeks only mere seconds into sucking him off, his hat slipping off his head and falling onto the plush of the bedsheets. 

his breath becomes ragged with the more you bob your head, allowing the tip to reach the back of your mouth, to the throat. his free hand moves to pass through your hairline, gripping at the beginning of your hair, even through your updo, loosening the tightening of the strands. the muscle in his arms flex underneath his short-sleeved button up, veins popping out every time you reach the base. 

“good girl,” he breathes out, the whimper that vibrates around his cock making his release come quicker than expected, hand bunching up your hair as he has to move you back, off his dick to stop his orgasm. he heaves, noticing the way strips of saliva connect your mouth to his dick. he moves his hand from your hair down to your lips, watching the way your mouth instinctively opens then closes around his fingers, sucking them in with pure ease. 

he allows you to wet them with your saliva until he pulls them out and mumbles a soft, “come.” 

he helps you up onto his lap, the metal of his gun is a cooling sensation on his heated skin as he moves back, reaching under to toss his gun elsewhere. he had his guard down now, despite the large bounties on his head, he was too focused on you, and giving you the pleasure that you deserved. as you straddle him, his fingers dared to touch the bottom of your dress, threatening to raise, “may i?” 

your eyes are tantalizing when they meet his, like the threatens of the deepest lust lie within them, and billy is willing to dive in, “you may.” 

his hair is messy now, like he never took off that damn hat, and when he did— he didn’t bother to fix the hair underneath.

every movement is careful, meant to be more meaningful than a quick fuck, he raises your skirt until his eyes catch on to a white lace garter that’s propped around your upper thigh. so sweet, the purposeful placement of it all, it’s like a prize for whoever gets to raise your skirt. as you sit on his lap, your arms rest on his shoulders, a hand threatening the skin on the back of his neck as his hands move back around your waist, through the silk of the corset to the strings that hold it together on the back. his eyes are stuck onto you as his fingers begin to tug at the tie of the strings, they were in a harsh knot, but billy always knew his way around things. 

kissing clients was typically a line many of the women wouldn’t dare to cross, sometimes not even you, but the way his eyes kept tipping down to your lips had you threateningly close to the now faded line. as the laces of your corset loosen, your head tips down to where your lips barely brush him, you can smell the mint already before even getting a chance. your lips move to close around the toothpick that he kept in his mouth, moving to spit it out and he was quick to chase your lips. as soon as you had spit out the toothpick, his lips finally pressed against yours, allowing your freshly manicured hands to curl through his brunette hair. 

the fresh smell of your rose and jasmine was quick to his nose as he inhaled you up close, tongue teasing against your lower lip ever so carefully. there was a certain thirst that billy found himself feeling as he moves to spread your mouth open with his own, allowing your tongues to both clash, the mix of spit and remnants of mint and a cigarette becoming prominent to the taste. he wanted to drink every word from your lips, to suck in your siren song like his life depended on it. 

when your hips bucked up against him, needy to feel a form of friction, it had encouraged him to finally free you from the confines of your corset. your lips part when he breaks the kiss, his lips trailing kisses down to your jaw, throughout until he meets your neck, the softness of his kisses making it feel as though doves were flying through the confines of your body. when his lips begin to move to suck on the delicate skin, you hiss, “dear, dear, you can’t leave marks.” 

“your rules or brothel rules?” he murmurs against your skin, moving to toss away your corset onto the floor. 

“brothel rules,” you hush out, and you feel his lips curl onto your neck. 

“then ‘m gonna leave as many marks as i want,” he falls back into your skin, lips taking in the skin between his teeth as he moved to mark you as his own. the desire to have a prostitute as your own was a dangerous game, but billy had been a part of many dangerous games before, and now he was pulling all his money in with the unluckiest of cards— yet he still finds himself with the pride of feeling he will win. his lips pause at one of the pulse points on your neck, noticing how your heat beat quickens, and flutters, was this typical? 

he wasn’t sure, but he finds himself praying it’s a good thing. he chuckles as your hands are desperate to unbutton his shirt, pushing each wooden button through the loops with ease, you had done this a million times before, this is the only time your heart is thumping in your chest when you do, though. he moves his hand down to take a hold of one of your wrists, “easy, girl, easy.” 

“you said ten minutes,” you remind him, smile dripping on your lips. 

“mm, i want longer than that,” he helps you unbutton the last few before taking off his shirt, noticing how your eyes trail down his figure. 

“just sayin’ that because you can’t make me cum,” you break into a soft laugh against him, and he can’t help the way a small smile curves his lips as he takes off the dress that you were wearing. your body is alike to the statues you could only dream of seeing in those beautiful stories about gods and women who ruled. women who were worshipped, even as billy knew you for mere minutes, he found himself wanting to kneel at your altar, to worship the ground you walk on. to make you cum would mean more than he imagined at first, he wanted to be that man, to pleasure you in ways others haven’t. 

his fingers slip underneath the hem of your panties, immediately exposed to the wetness underneath as it coats his fingers, “can’t make you cum yet you’re so wet for me, hm?” 

you bite your lip, allowing your hips to sway against his fingers as pleasure envelopes your every thought almost immediately. though billy wasn’t quite sure about what exactly to do, he had heard the other cowboys speak of this, and he hoped it delivered as much pleasure as they said when he dips a finger inside of you. you’re loose around him, wet, yet sucking him in so easily. he’s quick to add another, finding his rhythm almost immediately and getting cocky with it. he dares to let his thumb tease the edges of your clit, as if he didn’t know it was there and he was merely looking for somewhere to place it. 

he notices the way your nails dig in to his scalp, biting your tongue so hard that crimson may bleed from it with ease. 

billy had kissed many women, been on the brink of sex, and yet none have reacted the ways in which you do. they were quick to show how they react, every emotion not blanketed behind a curtain of embarrassment but now, despite it being your job to over exaggerate the pleasure, you found yourself shy to make noise. he moves to allow another finger to push inside of you, the pink velvet of your insides encasing his fingers with ease. he hears you gasp when his fingers threaten to curl, and he allows himself another smile. his thumb moves to your clit again, and that’s when your grip becomes lethal, biting your lip no longer becoming a guard for your moans. 

“please,” you mumble out, whimpering. 

“please what, princess?” you’re putty in his hands, and he’s kneading you with ease. 

“i.. i need you,” you moan out, to be saying this to a wanted man, one who has killed, and committed theft, as well as escaped from prison— it was something you swore to never do. yet you were having sex with him and his touch felt so gentle it was as if it never happened, how could a man so dangerous be so kind? you feel a vein pulse from his neck as he finally pulls his fingers out, his eyes following yours as he moves his hand up to his mouth, allowing his fingers to move in between his lips and the taste of you to savor his tastebuds.

your pupils dilate at the sight of him tasting you, skin warming before you can even realize that you’re moving to take his fingers out, replacing them with your tongue as your mouth presses against his again. his hand falls on your waist, other hand guiding his dick to your cunt as he deepens the kiss to feel you moan against his mouth. your tongues fight for dominance, each movement a hunger of it’s own but yours falls submissive as soon as his dick slides into you with ease. your velvet is tighter around him than he expected, and he feels the vibrations of your whines against his tongue, mumbling a small, “you’re so big—“ against his lips. 

once you reach his base, you pull away from his lips, a mere string of saliva connecting you both like a lifeline. 

now you have the lead to take, your lips connecting with his neck to leave marks on him, you wonder how the other cowboys will react as your hips start swaying on his dick, riding him with ease. will they laugh at him for all the prominent hickeys? there’s no way he could hide it, you’ve heard billy had girlfriends all around in many different towns and parts of the state, what if he went back to them and they saw all the marks? it would trace back to you, you’re sure of it, but something about that fills you with a sense of pride rather than fear. you’ve always adored the outlaws, even though you were raised to be a good christian woman, a good girl. the outlaws were always the sweet talkers, as you were told from the other girls at the brothel. you were told stories about how well they treated the women, their touch being better than most the regulars, their words so dirty you’d only dream of being told it until you had finally heard it. 

now you found yourself in love with the idea of trouble, as you wrap yourself in the silks of his touch and the pleasure he gave you. his head tilts back to allow you more access to the free canvas of his neck, his hand raises, then immediately smacks onto the flesh of your ass. the slap tore a cry from your throat, into the skin that coats his neck, and a plain redness forms around the mark of his hand, branding you. 

somehow, this was more intimate than your previous affairs, even despite the roughness of the sex. it felt like a wild play of ballet, an opera you would only dream of seeing, the gracefulness of each movement and the sweetness that drips like honey off each sound, even the sounds of skin slapping as you ride him. you taste the bitterness of his cologne as you reach the sides of his neck, sucking the pale skin with a need to create marks that last. he’s fascinated by your every movement, if this truly was a ballet, he would find himself in the crowd, watching the dancer move with such purity even during such a lewd act. 

you felt yourself curl as your orgasm builds again, and it seems he is too in the way his hips begin to rock. every movement feels like being coated in molasses, trying to swim through it, the orgasms scorching through your inner thighs to your core until it wracks your body, hitting you harder than it had any other time. you don’t know what it was about him, but you were quick to flutter around him, and that had him pulling out, stroking himself for mere seconds until white stripes fall in messy streaks across your skin. 

he pulls you closer when your lips move so your head tilts onto his shoulder, both of your guys’ chests heaving as if you had just been working out, as if you were running towards danger and felt the warmth of it’s embrace reel you in. it was billy’s arms, his eyes closing for a mere second before they open again, “thought i couldn’t make you cum.” 

you hate the way you smile so easily at anything he says, the way you melt into his touch, the way even though you were merely a one night stand it felt like you wanted this to be an eternity, you wanted him to be a regular. 

“mm, i faked it,” you say with a smile, so clearly a lie. 

you move so he slips out of you, your cunt clamping around nothing as it missed the feeling of him inside of you. soon, you reassure yourself as you stand, convinced he will be returning. poor, poor girl, you were just another victim of the sweet talkers with pretty faces. it worsens as your legs become jelly, and he’s quick to stand, hands fastening to your waist and holding it to keep you balanced. his chuckle turns to a laugh, a deep, hearty laugh, “you sure, doll?” 

you roll your eyes, pressing a kiss to his cheek, somehow your lipstick remained and it kept the mark staining his cheek as you left your kiss there. then you moved, taking your clothes and putting them on, “goodnight, billy.” 

[hyunsvngs]

𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

fratboy!stray kids x reader

synopsis: a night where you reveal your most intense desires to your best friend lands you in the hot seat. you quickly find yourself in the heart of frat party central - will you embrace the connections you make in your hot bitch summer?

status: completed

total wc: 45.6k

[please view specific chapters for warnings! this work is 18+ MDNI]

makes me dizzy [lee minho x gn!afab reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ the best surprises come from the most unexpected sources - like having your crush corner you in a frat party after hearing you confess your deepest desires of him in the background of a video.

2. wanna be your favourite boy [han jisung x gn!afab reader, side lee minho x reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ after spending a night with the man of your dreams, your best friend won’t look you in the eyes or reply to your texts. what did you do wrong? nothing - he just wants you.

3. need some air [seo changbin x gn!afab reader, side lee minho x reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ your situationship - the man of your dreams - gives you full, explicit permission to fuck his frat brothers in your effort of a hot bitch summer. who’s next, after you ruined your best friend in bed?

4. drunk on rose water [hwang hyunjin x gn!afab reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ it was well established now that you were fucking your way around the frat. you hadn't intended to make hyunjin your next victim, but when you end up alone together, it seems like the perfect opportunity.

5. 5-star [lee felix x gn!afab reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ your best friend is pissed he hasn’t had his turn yet. the only problem is, his turn begins to take place in a room with three other people present.

6. go ahead and cry [kim seungmin x gn!afab reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ following the events of your almost-orgy, you can’t stop thinking about a certain someone and the way he behaved in bed.

7. drive [bang chan x gn!afab reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ the party was boring. thankfully, the frat president who you hadn’t spoken to for a while offers you to go on a drive.

8. to be yours [yang jeongin x gn!afab reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ you and your favourite boy have planned to take apart the youngest member of the frat - but the question is, what has developed along the way? your hot bitch summer has a high chance of being fully successful, albeit with some new feelings.

© hyunsvngs, est 2023. all rights reserved.

[fclk-lores]

my man my man my man ⋆ ˚｡⋆ </3 !!

[berzahoes]

when you know you know | tom blyth

summary: the idiots finally meet (nepo baby!reader)

an: i can always count on reddit for inspiration bc i rewrote this a bunch of times 😭 also these are just random names for the friends lol @astheni-a

“don’t look now, but the guy behind you is staring.” your friend, meg, whispered to you. you and a couple of your girlfriends were seated in the food court of the mall. after a while, meg noticed that a group of guys sat a few tables away, one of them occasionally glanced at you.

“he’s cute,” your other friend, layne, joined in.

your other friend beside you, louise, smirked at you. “someone’s got a crush. think about it, we can all go on dates together if he asks you out.”

you rolled your eyes. “i don’t even know what he looks like. meg told me not to look.”

“he has brown hair, probably six feet and really pretty eyes. i think that’s all you need to know about your future man.” meg said.

“you just described almost every boy here,” you replied. you looked down at your drink and noticed it was almost empty so you gathered your trash and decided to go throw it away. “i like being single anyways. i have more me time.”

“babe, we know you don’t like it. just talk to lover boy over there and if you don’t like him then that’s that. we won’t push you to talk to any one else ever again.” layne said.

“just this one time.” you sighed. secretly, you did want someone to love. you never had an official boyfriend. during high school, you were talking with a guy from math class, but you quickly found out he just wanted to meet your famous dad. after that, you had difficulty knowing what relationship and friendships were real.

you stood up with your empty drink cup and walked to the nearest trash can. after throwing your trash away, you tried to look over your shoulder to see what boy meg had been taking about, but you couldn’t figure out who it was. brown hair, pretty eyes, tall . . . that could be anyone.

you sighed and decided to just turn around and look instead of looking like a creep, but just as you turned around, a guy had walked right in front of you almost causing his drink to spill.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry.” you immediately apologize.

“it’s okay, um are you . . . okay?” he asked shyly.

“yeah, I’m good. i’m sorry again. i . . yeah sorry.” you kept repeating as you looked at his eyes. they were a beautiful blue color. you were a sucker for colored eyes. well the british accent was a bonus too.

“i’m tom.” he introduced himself.

“i’m yn. nice to meet you. sorry for almost making you drop your drink. sorry, i apologize too much. it’s a habit.” you chuckled nervously.

get it together, yn

“no, it’s fine, wasn’t really drinking it anyways. so . . are you here alone?” he asked, but regretted it immediately when he noticed it might’ve sounded creepy.

“no, i’m with my friends. i’m sorry, again, i noticed the accent, you’re british. are you visiting good ol’ new york?” you questioned.

“studying here actually. i go to juilliard. what about you?”

“i’m actually from los angeles but i visit here quite often. it’s my second home. but i do travel a lot so i call multiple places my second home. sorry if i ramble, i do that when i start getting comfortable.”

from the table, your friends saw how you talked with a stranger.

“does anyone know how to lip read?”

“shhh! shut up layne!”

“who’s gonna tell her that’s not the guy we were talking about?”

“i don’t want to break her heart. plus he does look exactly like how meg described so a win is a win.”