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belqva · 3 months ago

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₊˚⊹౨ LOML [C.S.] ৎ ₊˚⊹

warnings: none, except for a lot of angst but oh well. the tortured poets department gave me inspiration for this so are we surprised?

summary: In the shadows of triumph, Coriolanus Snow, victor of the 10th Hunger Games, faces exile. Bound by a promise and a tender moment Coriolanus leaves behind his best friend and a life of endless possibility.

pairing: academy!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

a/n: my first ever fanfic I’m posting <3 english is NOT my first language so if you encounter some spelling or grammar errors let me know! I’m happy to hear any criticism or recommendations and my inbox is open so feel free to share your thoughts and any requests 🤍 please reblog or support in any way you can if you enjoy it thank you!

You could hardly believe it was real. The moment seemed too surreal, too much like a dream, but the reality was undeniable. Lucy Gray, with her haunting song to the snakes, had captured not just the Capitol’s attention but their hearts as well. Even Dr. Gaul, who had initially refused to let her out, was forced to relent under the intense demands of the entire student body.

In that electrifying moment, Coryo and Lucy Gray became victors, and with them, you felt your world shift.

You were still trembling from the intensity of the past few minutes. Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, and your hands quivered with a mixture of relief and disbelief. Everything would be alright now.

You felt a huge grin spreading across your face, the kind that hurt your cheeks. Everything had worked out in the end—Coryo would get his prize money, he would attend university with you, and the Snows would finally find themselves in a better financial position.

All of his hard work, his cunning, his sacrifices—it had all paid off. It was like a dream come true, perhaps even better.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the euphoria wash over you. Memories of your friendship with Coriolanus began to flood your mind.

You thought back to the early days, back when everything seemed so uncertain and bleak. The Snow family had lost so much, their wealth, their power—everything had crumbled after the war. But through it all, Coryo had never given up.

You admired that about him, his tenacity and resolve, even when the odds were stacked so heavily against him.

You remembered how the two of you would sit together in the Academy’s courtyard, discussing your plans for the future, as if speaking them out loud would make them more likely to happen.

He would always say, “We’ll get through this, you and I. We’ll find a way.”

And you had believed him, because despite everything, Coryo had a way of making you believe that anything was possible.

You had been there through the the tough times. When they had nothing to eat for days leaving him and Tigris alone in that cavernous, crumbling apartment, the remnants of a life that once promised so much. You’d seen him struggle to keep up appearances, to maintain a semblance of dignity despite the whispers and the pitying glances from others.

But through it all, he remained determined, and you stood by his side, offering what little comfort and support you could. He’d never once asked for your help, but you’d given it anyway, because that’s what friends did.

And then came the Games. You knew from the start that Coriolanus would be an exceptional mentor, but you also knew how high the stakes were for him. Winning wasn’t just about pride or glory; it was about survival. It was about securing a future, not just for himself, but for Tigris, for the memory of his family.

You had watched him throw himself into the role with everything he had, determined to make a success of it, even as others doubted him.

Now, standing there among the cheering students, you felt that familiar swell of pride. He had done it. Against all odds, Coriolanus Snow had not only survived but thrived. And in doing so, he had proven to everyone—most of all to himself—that he was capable of greatness.

But you had to see him, had to touch him, to truly believe it.

The Academy space where the mentors had gathered was a cacophony of noise and movement. Students were on their feet, celebrating, congratulating him. You were seated in the back rows, and it was a struggle to make your way through the throng of bodies. You pushed through the crowd, muttering apologies and excuses as you went, your eyes scanning for that distinctive head of blond, almost white curls.

Finally, you spotted him. Coriolanus was standing with Tigris, his face lit up with a smile so genuine and full of relief that it gave him an almost otherworldly glow. The look of pure triumph on his features made your heart swell with happiness, if such a thing was even possible at this point.

As you drew closer, you could see the exhaustion etched into his features, the toll the Games had taken on him, but also the undeniable joy of victory.

“Coryo,” you called out, not too loudly, but just enough for him to hear. He turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes brightening even more when he saw you. Without a second thought, you hurried toward him, and as soon as you were within reach, you wrapped him in a tight, almost bone-crushing hug.

He held you just as tightly, his arms wrapping around you like a lifeline. For a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only people in the room, the sea of students and the noise fading into the background.

Coryo clung to you as if he never wanted to let go, his breath warm against your ear, and you could feel his heart pounding against your chest.

“You did it,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, tears welling up in your eyes. “You actually did it.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands coming up to cradle your face, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had started to fall.

“I knew you could do it, Coryo,” you continued, your voice trembling but full of conviction. “I never once doubted you. I’m so proud of you.”

His gaze softened at your words, and for a brief moment, the stoic mask he usually wore cracked, revealing the vulnerable boy underneath. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of gratitude. “Thank you for everything. For being by my side, for never giving up on me.”

“Always,” you replied, your voice barely more than a breath. The two of you stood there, foreheads pressed together, savoring the moment.

It was a small pocket of peace amidst the chaos, a brief respite where nothing else mattered but the two of you.

You thought back to all those times he had confided in you, those late-night talks where he shared his fears, his doubts, and his hopes. You knew Coryo better than anyone, perhaps even better than Tigris. You knew how deeply he felt things, even though he tried to hide it behind a calm, composed exterior.

You knew how much this victory meant to him—not just for the tangible rewards it would bring, but for what it represented. This was proof that he could rise above his circumstances, that he could reclaim the Snow family’s honor, that he could be someone who mattered.

But as with all moments, this one couldn’t last forever. The crowd around you began to press in again, and Coriolanus was soon whisked away by more well-wishers.

He drank posca, shook hands, and accepted congratulations with a grace that seemed almost second nature to him. Yet you could tell that this victory had loosened something in him, something that had been tightly wound for far too long.

As you watched him navigate the crowd, you felt a swell of pride that was almost overwhelming. This was the Coriolanus Snow you knew—a natural leader, someone who could command a room with just his presence. And yet, beneath that polished exterior, there was still the boy you had grown up with, the boy who had faced more hardships than most would ever know.

You knew that this moment would change everything for him, for both of you. The prize money would secure his future, ensuring that he could attend university and continue on the path you had both dreamed about.

The Snow family name would be restored, and with it, a sense of dignity that had been sorely lacking for so long. For the first time in years, Coryo’s future looked bright, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that you had played a part in helping him reach this point.

Soon enough, a voice rang out over the noise, commanding that Coriolanus report to the High Lab immediately.

The summons didn’t seem unusual—after all, he was the victor’s mentor, and surely they would want to congratulate him in person, perhaps even offer him some insight into what would happen next. Maybe he would get to see Lucy Gray again, to explain what had happened in those final, crucial moments.

You watched as Coryo set off, his steps confident, his back straight. He was walking toward his new life, a life that would finally give him the recognition and security he had fought so hard for.

As he reached the doors and paused, he turned back for just a moment, his eyes seeking yours. He gave you a small, reassuring smile—the kind that said everything was going to be okay.

And in that moment, you believed it. You returned his smile, your heart full to bursting with love and pride. This was just the beginning of a bright and promising future, and nothing could dim the light of this victory.

Coryo gave a final nod and then turned, pushing the doors open and stepping through, leaving the noise and the crowd behind him. As the doors closed, you stood there, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment. Everything had worked out just as it should.

Everything was going to be alright.

You had gone home soon after Coryo left for the high lab, still aglow with excitement. The manor's grand halls felt almost empty, echoing your unspoken anticipation. You could hardly wait to share your joy with Coryo—just the two of you, away from the world's gaze.

You greeted your parents as you passed through the living room, where they sat absorbed in the Capitol news.

Your mother, wrapped in a luxurious shawl, watched Lucky Flickerman with a serene smile. Your father, seated with his customary stern expression, barely glanced up.

You quickly made your way to your quarters, jittery and impatient.

After hours of trying to kill time, trying not to worry about the worst you decided you had enough. Each second of silence, with no calls or messages from Coryo or Tigris, increased your anxiety. What could be delaying them? Were they intentionally avoiding you, or had something gone awry?

Your frustration mounted. You couldn't bear to stay in your room any longer. The adrenaline of your excitement had not yet worn off, and now you were driven by a mix of worry and determination. With no further ado, you decided to head to the Snows' penthouse.

You left your room and walked briskly down the hall, informing your parents of your intentions. “I’m going to see Coryo,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“Oh, but haven’t you talked to him already, dear?” Your mother asked, her voice laced with concern. “It’s quite late to be heading out.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed with disapproval. He was always stringent about your associations and activities. Relationships before marriage were forbidden in your household, and in the Capitol elite, it was considered unacceptable for a young woman to have a suitor without a promise of marriage.

“Tigris invited me over,” you explained smoothly. “We’re just going to celebrate. His grandmother will be there too. It’s just a nice gesture, really. An honor.”

The lie slipped effortlessly from your lips. Growing up with strict rules had honed your skill in deceit.

“Well, alright then,” your mother said with a hesitant smile. “But don’t stay out too late. And make sure to return before midnight.”

“Just be careful,” your father added gruffly, his gaze following you as you left.

With their reluctant approval, you stepped out of the manor and instructed your chauffeur to drive you to the Corso.

As you exited the car, the cool night air hit you like a refreshing wave, contrasting sharply with the heat of your nervousness. “Wait here,” you told the driver, hurrying towards the Snows' apartment. The street was quiet, the world seemingly paused in the wake of recent events.

At the Snows’ penthouse, you knocked a few times, your heart pounding with anticipation. The door creaked open slowly. It was Tigris, her usually bright demeanor replaced with a shadow of sorrow. Her face, streaked with tears, made your heart sink.

“Tigris, is everything alright?What happened? Where’s Coryo?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Tigris’s pitiful smile offered little comfort. She placed her hands gently on your shoulders, squeezing them in a gesture of uneasy sympathy. “I think you should talk to him. He’s in his room.”

The unease in her voice only deepened your worry. “Tigris, please, tell me what’s going on. I need to know.”

She sighed heavily, her voice a whisper. “It should be Coryo who tells you.”

Your patience snapped. You rushed to Coryo’s room, your mind racing. The Snows’ modest apartment, a reflection of their strained finances, was familiar to you, but tonight it seemed more forlorn than ever. You passed the grandmother, her stoic expression masking her own despair.

The door to Coryo’s room was ajar. You pushed it open gently and peered inside. “Coryo?” you called out softly.

He stood in the center of the room, his once confident presence now subdued. His back was turned to you. He was packing.

The ethereal glow that had surrounded him in the academy was gone, replaced by a deep, palpable sadness. He turned at the sound of your arrival. His usual calm demeanor was marred by a profound sorrow reflected in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft and weary, as if seeing you for the first and last time.

You rushed to him, your concern overflowing. “Is everything alright? What happened in the High Lab? Did Gaul hurt you?” Even the thought made your stomach twist.

He took a deep breath and guided you to sit on the edge of his bed. Then he began to explain: the rat compact, the rat poison, the incriminating handkerchief.

They had pieced it all together—the cheating, the deceit, and Highbottom’s decision to offer him a chance at redemption as a peacekeeper. The devastating conclusion was clear: banishment for twenty years.

As he spoke, the world seemed to collapse around you. The realization was like a punch to the gut—a cruel twist of fate. Coryo’s life, once filled with promise, was now reduced to ashes. There was no solution, no fixing this. This wasn't a schol assignment gone wrong, this was real life.

The dream you had cherished was burning down before your eyes.

“No, this… this can’t be happening,” you whispered, trying to grasp the enormity of it all.

“Yes, it can,” Coryo said bitterly. “It’s already decided.”

You struggled to hold back your tears. “So, when are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow at dawn,” he murmured, his voice hollow. He couldn’t meet your gaze. The weight of failure and impending separation was too much for him to bear.

Your heart ached for him—this young man who had faced so much adversity and yet still carried the burden of his family’s future on his shoulders. The thought of losing him, of never seeing him again, was almost unbearable.

Coryo’s gaze finally met yours, and he saw the silent tears streaming down your cheeks. His own heart clenched with a new kind of pain. “Y/N,” he said desperately, “please don’t cry. I hate it when you do that.”

You tried to steady your breathing, but the tears kept coming. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m not ready to let you go, Coryo. It shouldn’t have ended like this.”

Coryo pulled you into his arms, letting your tears soak into his uniform. He held you tightly, his own despair mingling with the comfort he tried to offer. He hated feeling like this. Out of control. He couldn't help you. Hell he couldn't help himself.

You clung to him as if he were the only anchor in a stormy sea.

Eventually, you lay down together on his bed, your bodies intertwined. You traced random shapes on his chest, while he stared blankly at the ceiling. After a few quiet moments, you spoke softly, “Maybe I’ll be able to visit you someday.”

Coryo smiled sadly. “I doubt it. Even if you could, I wouldn’t want you around those district savages.” He said the last part bitterly, not hiding his hatred for the districts.

You countered gently, “Not everyone from the districts is terrible. Look at Lucy Gray—she’s from the districts and she’s wonderful.”

Coryo stiffened at the mention of Lucy Gray. “Lucy Gray is special. She’s not like the others. And she’s not from the districts. She’s Covey.” He clarified.

“If you say so,” you sighed, not wanting to argue. “Well, if we both survive, we’ll see each other in twenty years.”

Coryo fell silent at your words. You could sense something was troubling him.

“What’s bothering you, Coryo?” you asked, your gaze fixed on him. “And don’t lie to me. I can tell when something’s wrong.”

He hesitated, then spoke with a voice heavy with regret. “It’s just the thought that you’ll move on, have a family, and live a life without me. I won’t be part of it.”

Your heart ached at his words. “Oh, Coryo, you’ll always be part of my life. I’ll think of you every single day until my last breath.” You assured him.

Coryo’s eyes met yours with a mix of sadness and longing. “I won’t be the man who gives you children, who makes you the First Lady of Panem. I won’t be part of your future.”

The though of not having something that was rightfully his infuriated him.

At his words you were shook to your core. A pregnant silence followed.

As he spoke, you realized that your feelings for him—feelings you had tried to ignore—might not have been unrequited after all. The lingering touches and secret glances were not merely figments of your imagination.

Coryo was looking at you with a tenderness that spoke of deep, unspoken emotions.

Guided by an unknown force, you leaned closer, your breaths mingling. Your faces were inches apart, and then his lips were gently brushing against yours.

What began as a soft touch quickly turned into a passionate, fervent kiss. It was a culmination of all the emotions, fears, and unspoken words of the day. Coryo’s hands cradled your face with a tenderness that spoke of how much you meant to him.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you kissed him with the intensity of knowing that this might be the last time you ever could.

After what felt like an eternity, you pulled back, both of you panting heavily. You embraced each other tightly, laying your head on his chest.

The silence between you was filled with everything that words could not express. Goodbye, I love you, I don’t want to lose you—each emotion was conveyed in that single, passionate kiss.

As you closed your eyes, trying to drift off to sleep despite the circumstances, you were acutely aware of every precious moment with Coryo.

You ignored the time and your parents’ warning, finding solace in his arms. His breathing eventually slowed to a steady rhythm, and you found comfort in his presence.

The pale moonlight streaming through the cracks in the wall was the only witness to this intimate moment between two young lovers facing an uncertain future.

Coryo’s arms remained around you, their embrace a fragile anchor amidst the turmoil.

As sleep threatened to overtake you, a profound sadness washed over you. You wished for a reality where everything had turned out differently—where Casca Highbottom’s cruelty hadn’t shattered your dreams. The future you had imagined with Coryo seemed to slip further away with each passing second.

In the dead of night, you whispered the truth that would haunt you forever, “You’re the loss of my life, Coriolanus Snow.”

SHARING THIS, ANY OF MY OTHER WORKS OR A TRANSLATION OF THEM WITHOUT CONSENT ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN !!!

THE PLOT OF THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS DO NOT BELONG TO ME THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FANFICTION !!!

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francixoxoxo · 5 months ago

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˚✧ ₊Something ˚. ʚ

Billy the Kid x Reader

You’re pregnant with Billy’s baby, and it’s taking a bit of a toll on you. You have a breakdown, and Billy soothes you.

TW: reader is pregnant, weight insecurity, mentions of miscarriage

Basically pure angst and comfort, sorryyyyy (not sorry)

It was times like these that you wished God made you a man.

Not to say you weren’t in awe of yourself. You were carrying a human life— wasn’t that something? Your mother was insistent on specific teas and herbs to help the baby. Your friends were giddy with excitement, you being the first of them all to have a baby. Your husband? You didn’t think Billy could be more protective than if he locked you in a safe.

He argued his way into plenty of late-start workdays to take care of you when you felt sick. He was wary of you going out on particularly hot days, as if you’d melt. When he was with you, in public or not, he tucked you to his side and kept an iron grip on you. You were his sweetest girl, and now that you were pregnant? Oh, if he could hide you from every danger, he would. He certainly tried.

But Billy couldn’t keep you from every difficulty that came with pregnancy. He held your hair back from your face as you vomited, but he couldn’t keep your food down for you. He’d rub your feet before you fixed your lips to ask, as if to make up for not being able to carry you everywhere you needed.

“M’ sorry.” Billy cooed to you as you laid in bed one night, gently rubbing that spot in your hip you’d admitted was hurting. You shook your head, the dim moonlight filtering through the window gratefully letting him see your soft smile.

“Not your fault.” You murmured, nose-to-nose with him, your eyes flicking twixt his concerned blue ones. You couldn’t have found a better man’s baby to have.

Billy shook his head gently but with an adamant and dark expression. He pet some hair back from your face. “Well, I did this t’you, didn’t I?”

Your eyes smiled with your lips at his words. “And I’m glad you did.” You couldn’t resist moving in closer, your nose burying into his chest. His strong arms immediately wrapped around you to hold you close to him. Calloused fingertips lightly trailed along your ribs, you felt the faintest touch of his lips to your hairline.

It wasn’t a lie. You were happy to be a mother, really.

But that happiness tended to subside when you passed a mirror. Oh, you’d gained so much. You mentioned it once to Billy, but he shut it down quickly by assuring you how beautiful he found you. His words had stuck with you for perhaps a day before the self-hatred seeped in again.

Or when Billy came home late, a bassinet or a changing table in tow, grinning ear-to-ear, and you wouldn’t dare to but wanted to yell what a waste it would end up being. Self-hatred wasn’t simply for what was on the surface— you were certain your body would fail you, and more importantly that it would let down Billy. But you hadn’t dared breathe a word to him. Not when he smiled so brightly as he looked over his shoulder at you, setting the wooden cradle down in the small room dedicated as the nursery.

Billy had begged you to not go on horseback rides anymore, now that you were (according to him) fragile. You assured him you wouldn’t, soothing his already high-strung nerves over you.

Yet here you were, galloping about as fast as your horse could dash without his heart bursting a gasket. Tears were already stinging your eyes, the wind whipping your hair behind you. You were riding so furiously that you were standing on the stirrups, bent over and gripping the reins like a professional jockey.

Your mind was just swimming. You were seven months along by now, and you never felt worse. Perhaps it was just a day, or a week, or a month— but you couldn’t bottle it up. Billy wasn’t home, and you supposed it would be better to empty your rotten feelings in an empty field than onto your poor lover’s lap. Your heart clenched at the thought of what he’d say. Oh, you’d break his heart, surely.

And you weren’t keen on hurting Billy, not when he was the one thing holding you together. The thought of him now reminded you to breathe, you hadn’t realized the burn in your lungs. You even dared taking your hand off the reins to wipe the hot tears off your cheeks.

Eventually you found your spot. It’d been so long since you came here, just the sight of the sun-warmed rocks poking out from the river made your heart lighten. You tied your horse to a tree, discarding your boots at its roots. The grass was pleasantly warm under your bare feet, your eyes trained on the wildflowers blooming as the earth sloped down slightly to the riverbank. Here, tears slipped from you like nothing. You sank into the long grass, laying back and letting the fronds tickle the skin your chemise exposed.

If the river overflowed from the buckets of tears you cried, you would hardly be surprised. The breath was utterly stolen from your lungs as you wept, a hand over your heart and consequently the increased swell of your breast. Just the subtle reminder of the way your body had changed made you bawl harder. Oh, how you wanted it off you! You wanted it all to stop, for it all to go away. But that desperate want washed guilt over you.

How could you want your baby gone?

You didn’t! You didn’t, you told yourself, wiping at the tears that wouldn’t ebb. You loved this baby before you’d even met it. And now that fear was clawing at your heart again, threatening to rip it into strings, the fear that you never would meet it.

Perhaps it was your weeping that drew Billy to that creek, perhaps it pierced through to his heart like an arrow all the way from home. He hardly took a peek around your quaint house before hopping back on his horse. And at the perfect moment, when you thought you simply couldn’t bear such heavy feelings any longer, you heard the sound of boots on grass.

You lifted your head, catching your breath and peering over the overgrown, tall blades of glass to see Billy’s face looking back down at you. Wasn’t he the image of an angel? He immediately sunk to his knees beside you, that angelic face screwed up in concern as he cooed, “Oh, baby, my baby.. Hush, don’t cry, hon..”

Something about Billy’s strong arms practically scooping you up to lean against his broad chest had you sobbing mightily. You turned your cheek into him, wetting his work shirt and smelling deeply his musk, tinged with sweat. The low timbre of his voice willing you to calm down had mixed effects. In certain ways you felt safe. As though everything was suddenly all-right. And in other ways, you felt so unbelievably helpless.

Frankly? It terrified Billy. He clutched you tight, running his calloused palms up and down your arms, over the rise of your belly, stroking your wet cheeks. He can’t remember a time he’s seen you so distressed. It feels like years until your sobs delve into soft, shudders gasps and sighs, the skin ‘round your eyes rubbed raw. You’ve stopped trying to wipe the tears away, but Billy’s taken up the job, diligently swiping the wetness away from your pretty eyes and cheeks with his thumb.

after you calmed, you croaked a soft, “Sorry.” Billy shook his head adamantly, knitting his brows.

��Don’t apologize, baby. You ain’t done anything wrong.” He cooed gently, wrapping his arms around your front and pulling you even closer to his chest. Your heart was weary, your stomach heavy. But Billy made it all just a bit better. You could feel more than see his blue eyes flicking between your face and your belly. “What’s wrong?”

You pressed your lips nervously. You let your gaze fall on the running brook, the quiet rushing of water over rock soothing. Billy’s roughened hand came to lay over yours on your lap, giving to the strength to admit, “I’m miserable.”

Billy paused in nearly every way. You thought that his heart stopped a beat, and you were certain his breath hitched. “What d’you mean?” He squeezed your hand.

“I..” You caught yourself on the verge of admitting your darkest fear, silently reprimanding yourself and deciding to admit the less painful one. “I look so different. Not in a good way.. I’m so much fatter, Billy.” Your voice wavered as you spoke; even if it was vain, or the least of your problems, it still weighed on you. It still hurt.

“Oh, baby..” Billy sighed, nosing your hair and shaking his head a bit. “You aren’t fat. You’re so, so goddamn beautiful.”

Your lips pulled, threatening to part in a sob before you swallowed it down. Tears came back to your eyes. Why couldn’t you believe his words? “I’m not. Look at me! I’m a planet. I don’t know how you can stand to look at me.” Your voice cracked, much to your embarrassment. Your hands went to cover your eyes but Billy gently pulled them away. He tilted your chin to meet your eyes, his own peering at you like you were mad, or some poor creature. As if you’d offended him by talking so poorly about yourself.

Billy murmured your name and shook his head adamantly again. “You’re carryin’ a baby. My baby. A damn life.” He paused, eyes silently flicking twixt yours for a moment, trying to see if his words were sinking in. “Maybe your body’s a little different, but I think you look perfect. Might even be more attracted t’you, if that’s possible.” Billy cooed, his voice somehow gentle and firm at once. A smirk crept across his face at that last bit, only growing upon seeing your slight smile.

But his expression became concerned and serious again after a moment, he furrowed his brows. “Don’t talk bad ‘bout my girl like that, baby. You’re just as gorgeous as ever. Frankly, I like that you’re a little softer now. Just a little more of you t’hold.” Billy went on until your faint smile broadened, tightening his arms around you as he worked a blush out of you.

The insecurity didn’t leave you, but his words were enough to wash out the self-hatred. If Billy loved you, surely you could too. The way he was looking at you right now honestly had you believing he thought you an angel. Because he did, in every way. “Th-thank you..” You mumbled after a while, wiping your eyes and grimacing, nuzzling your cheek further against his chest. His warm, calloused palm rubbed up and down your arm. “I love you.”

“I love you more n’ anything.” Billy said it like it was the easiest thing. As if he was born knowing it, and you should’ve understood by now. Yet still, it eluded you just how he could adore you so much. Perhaps he could see that haze in your eyes as you averted your gaze to the grass, thinking on that. Would he still love you if your body killed his baby? Never mind the fact that it was your baby as well— it was Billy’s too, and he was so, so excited for it.. How would you live with yourself if Billy’s baby died?

“But that’s not the only thing, is it?” Billy murmured, snapping you out of your thoughts. When you looked up at him, you realized tears blurred his face. He wiped them away as you blinked them onto your cheeks.

You couldn’t keep a thing from him, not now. You shook your head, feeling a rock lodge in your throat when you opened your mouth to speak. He squeezed your arm gently, furrowing his brows and kissing your temple as reassurance. “Y’don’t have to—“

“—I’m afraid that I’ll kill the baby.”

Billy’s eyes went buggy, and that rock in your throat settled into your stomach. Your word lingered in the air for a few agonizingly long, painful moments, before your lover nodded slightly, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “You’re scared you’ll miscarry.” He rephrased, voice soft and subtly curious.

Tears flowed now like your body was dispelling every emotion it had ever experienced. Billy pulled you to him tighter, cooing soft words to you. “Hush, baby. You’re okay. You ain’t.. You’re healthy as a horse, sweetheart. What put that into your head?”

You’d been right. Your words broke his heart.

Your words came twixt sobs and needy gulps of air. “M-my momma— lost three, n’— Oh, I’m scared that—“ You were driving yourself hysterical. Billy hushed you, a hand on the back of your head pulling your face to his heartbeat. His lips were glued to your hair. “I know, baby, I know. I know.”

Oh, it felt like years ‘till you cried all the tears your eyes could make. You weren’t sure when Billy had pulled you more into his lap, your head tucked into his neck, his hand rubbing up and down your ribs while the other laid over your belly. He could feel subtle kicks now and then, but his heart was too heavy from seeing you so distraught that he couldn’t find it in him to be giddy at the feeling.

The fronds of long grass ticked your legs and bare feet, the sound of rushing water and Billy’s soothing voice filling your ears. “I feel like I’ll fail you.” You admitted softly, letting your eyes flutter closed as he smoothed a hand over your hair.

“Impossible.” Billy dismissed, his voice a firm murmur into your hair. “It wouldn’t happen. I won’t let y’entertain the idea.” His brows were pulled into a taught furrow, he blinked away the stinging in his eyes. “It wouldn’t be your fault.” He added. You nodded a bit, grimacing.

Whether it was the exhilarating lightness of simply having it off your chest or Billy’s loving assurance, your mind felt less murky. You felt ten tons lighter, tucked safely in your lovers arm, your skin tickled by warm grass and your eyes closed after a long bawl. “I’m sorry for all this fuss.” You mumble.

Billy pressed his slightly chapped lips to your hairline, his own eyes shutting. His stubble scratching your brow was a welcome reminder of his omnipresence. “Nothin’ to apologize for.”

The silence lingered a moment before you broke it again. “You’re my rock. Did I ever tell you that?” You lifted your face, craning your neck to look up at Billy. He was smiling sweetly, his lips just barely pulled over his teeth. His hand that wasn’t busy rubbing your belly was finding its way into your hair.

“You never had to.” Billy shook his head. his eyes dropped to your lips, which had found their way into a smile to mirror his, much to his delight. He pressed a kiss to them, relishing in your soft exhale. You hoped that he understood all your emotions as you out them into this kiss, all the love, the anguish, the appreciation.

He most definitely understood it all.

Billy held you for a long while after, in that sun-warmed clearing. Somehow you both came to lay in the grass on your backs, hands clasped in the gap twixt you. You stared up at the few clouds adorning the bright sky. Billy stared at you, bringing your clasped hands to your belly and flipping his to lay beside yours on the large expanse of it. His thumb brushed over the bump through the thin linen of your chemise.

Billy shook his head, smiling in that sweet way of his again and meeting your gaze. His own azure eyes glimmered with a kind of joy that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

“You’ll be a good mother.” He whispered, as if the brook wasn’t empty save for you two. “And you’re gonna make me a father, sweet thing.” Those words were breathed with reverence. Billy was simply in awe of you; of what your body was capable of. Of your soul, and your heart. Your sheer beauty, in every curve and edge. He made it clear to you with every move he made and every word he uttered. You couldn’t help a smile spreading over your cheeks, your swollen eyes turning into crescents along with your lips.

“I’m glad it’s you.” Your words were just as quiet and hushed as his. And they needed no explanation. Billy never needed one to understand you.

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #tom blyth #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid series #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid smut #william h bonney imagine #william h bonney imagines #william bonney #angst with a happy ending

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lqveharrington · 8 months ago

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Dust Storm | W.H.B.

summary: You and Billy get caught up in a dust storm while on a horse ride.

pairing: William H. Bonney x fem!reader

includes: slight angst, fluff, you and billy are engaged, not a lot of warnings 🤷‍♀️ let me know if i missed any !!

a/n: i had this sitting in my drafts for a billion years 😭 my bad bookies

It had been days since that last dust storm blew in and the spirits in the small county of Talihina, Oklahoma were high. However, there was no rain insight. And with no rain, it left many farmers with empty fields, covered in dried-out dirt and sand. It especially hit the Ashford farm and ranch the hardest.

The Ashfords were the wealthiest family in Talihina. They were well known for being able to run a horse ranch and a healthy farm. The father, James Ashford, was in charge of both the ranch and farm, making sure everything ran smoothly. His wife, Josephina Ashford, better known as Jo, was known for helping around the town and giving to those in need. Luckily for the couple, they had two children who helped them with their work. They had a daughter and a son. You were the eldest Ashford child, and you had a bright future. You resemble your mother in all ways. You were the kind of woman to make young men turn their heads just by walking by. Unfortunately for them, you were happily engaged to one William H. Bonney. On the other hand, your younger brother looked like a replica of your father. Adam Ashford was eight years old with the same determination as his father, hoping to take over the farm and ranch when he got older.

But because of the dust storms starting up two years ago, it was harder to tend to the crops that would grow and bring the horses out of their stables. Before, you would help your father to tend to the horses when you weren't doing volunteer work, but with the constant dust blowing around the whole country, he banned you from leaving the house unless it was absolutely clear from dust. And for the first time in two years, James let his daughter out of the house. Only to run her mother’s errands, of course.

“In case of emergencies,” James tied a red bandana around your wrist as you took your mother’s list and woven basket from the kitchen table. “Wrap this around your head and cover your mouth and nose. I don’t want you to get hurt. And remember to come straight back from the markets—”

“Pa, I’ll be fine.” You squeezed her father’s forearm, kissing his cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He sighed and shook his head, “Okay.”

You squeezed his arm again before leaving, silently reassuring her safety. You took quick strides to the town center and watched the dust kick up with every step you took. The walk going to town wasn’t bad. The only downside was that there was no shelter for any incoming dust storms. Fortunately, the blazing sun was beating down on the earth and the wind was seemingly absent.

Upon reaching the town center you smiled at the sight in front of you. You found children running around with wooden toys their fathers made and their mothers gossiping about the recent family who left for California. It felt normal. For the first time in years, it felt normal to see mothers scolding their children for messing with drunkards sitting outside of the bars.

You shook your head before entering the town’s only grocery, the bell above the door ringing to alert the storekeeper. “Mr. Taylor?”

“Miss Ashford!” The storekeeper beamed at the young woman. “What brings you into town? I haven’t seen you and your folks for a while.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, “With all this dust, I would hardly expect anyone to be hustlin’ ‘round town.”

“What can I do for you?” He dismissed the comment.

“I’m in need of some of your delicious Fuji apples. My ma s'been craving them ever since Adam read a book about them to her.” You looked around the empty store. “Other than that, I can grab the res’ of the things myself.”

“I’ll be right back.” He knocked the wood on the counter, heading toward the back of the store. You watched him leave before heading into the different aisles, glancing at the brands and prices of the different items. In fact, you were so immersed in deciding which brand of vegetable oil would be best that you hadn’t realized someone new had entered the store until a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and spun you off the ground.

“Oh my god!” You clung onto the stranger’s arm, not wanting to fall face-first onto the ground. You glanced back at the stranger before gasping, eyes lighting up at the male. “Billy!”

“Afternoon, gorgeous.” He put you down and kissed your cheek.

You felt your face warm at the name and action, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “What are you doing here?”

“My ma sent me into town to get money from the bank.” Billy followed you around the store, his gaze flickering across your face. “Then I saw my favorite woman walk into town. I decided I could spare some time to talk to her.”

“Uh-huh.” You spun on your heel and peered into his eyes. “Did you get the money for your folks? Or did you forget?”

“You think so low of me, sweetheart.” He tilted your head up with his finger. “Of course I got the money.”

You hummed, giving him a proper look now. William H. Bonney was once a lanky boy in grade school. But he had definitely grown into himself. He got stronger and taller over the course of two years. The loose clothes he once wore now perfectly fit him, making you flush red each time you saw him. Your eyes then traveled from his fit shirt to his tattered, dust-covered boots. You frowned at the state they were in, but no one could do any better from the current weather the states were currently facing. Finally, you shifted your gaze to meet his eyes once more. His crystal blue eyes were such a beautiful contrast to the dust coating his dark jeans and his wavy brown hair. You swore you could get lost in them if it weren’t for him pulling you back to reality each time.

“You’re staring, gorgeous.” Billy grinned, earning a small scoff from his beloved.

“You’re impossible.” You shoved two bars of soap into your basket, heading toward the counter where the apples were waiting.

Mr. Taylor suppressed a laugh at the young couple, taking the basket from your arms. “That all for today, Miss Ashford?”

You hummed as you took your wallet out of your dress pocket, “How much?”

“$3.42 is the total.” He read off the cash register as you handed him the exact amount, trading it for the baskets of groceries and apples.

“Thank you, Mr. Taylor.” You smiled at him and moved to grab Billy’s hand as you left the store, intertwining them. “What’ve you been up to since I’ve last seen you?”

“Since last week?” Billy pulled you closer to him, squeezing your hand. “ Not much has happened since I visited your place. Just helping my ma in the fields like always.”

You nodded and looked toward the ground, watching the dust cling onto your leather boots and the bottom of your maroon dress. “The dust storm affecting your folks’ farm badly?”

“It’s affecting everyone, sweetheart.” He pulled you away from a stampede of running children. “No one can get any crops.”

“I know…” You muttered, rubbing small circles into his palm. You peered up at the bright sun, squinting at the beam. “You know what I wish for?”

“What?”

“I wish for everything to go back to normal.” You adjusted your hat, the Ashford ranch coming into view. “The dust storms have ruined everyone’s crops. I can barely step foot out of my own house. There hasn’t been any rain since god knows when. My pa won’t let me tend to the horses. It’s madness, Billy.”

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” He kissed the side of your head. “I can’t promise everything will go back to normal, but in the meantime, I can find a way to ride horses with you. ”

“William, what’s that supposed to mean?” You squinted at him, his piercing gaze meeting yours. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably not a good idea—!”

“Come on. We can ride the horses and be back before your folks worry.” He pulled you into the Ashford stables, taking the baskets from your arms and tucking them safely in a corner.

You bit your lip, looking at the groceries and then back at the brunette, cursing him for being so convincing. “Fine.”

Laughter filled the air as you raced Billy through the back trails of Talihina, the generated wind blowing through your hair. It felt like you were both young teenagers who had no idea they were in love with one another, doing reckless activities until they were caught by one’s parents.

“Pick up the pace, Bonney!” You shouted as you saw Billy catching up, urging your horse to move faster.

A huge amount of dust kicked up with every stride the horses took, and if you looked back, you wouldn’t be able to see anything. Billy shook his head with a smile and copied you, finally riding beside the pair.

“Sweetheart, you know I can beat you in any horse race.” He chuckles as he brings his horse to a stop, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “You feel any better?”

You nodded and glanced to your left as you tugged on your horse’s reins, meeting his blue eyes. “I do feel better. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He tipped his hat in your direction. “Ready to go back?”

Your smile slowly faded but nodded, “Yeah.”

“Hey, we don’t need to rush. We can take as long as we want to go back if you want.”

“I’d like that.” You guided your horse to head back toward the ranch. “In the meantime, you can tell me all about what you’re gonna do when your ma finds out where you’ve been all day.”

“I can tell her I’ve been with my girl all day.” He bit back a smirk when he saw your cheeks tint pink. “I think my folks love you more than me.”

You shoved his shoulder, your engagement ring glistening in the sun. “They should love me more than you. I think my Pa loves you more than me.”

“Impossible.” Billy took your hand and kissed the back of it.

The young couple took short strides on their horses as the sun slowly faded away. One could argue that the sun was setting, but it was still much too early for the sun to set.

“What time do you have on your watch?” You looked back at the darkening sky, picking up the pace.

“3 PM,” Billy muttered, looking into your panicked eyes. “We gotta go.”

The both of you started to rush your horses back as the wind picked up, dust blowing around them which impaired your vision. You hastily removed the bandana from your wrist and tied it around your head, keeping your balance. Billy kept one hand on the reins and shoved his own bandana up, covering his nose and mouth. The sky was now covered with dust clouds and the wind blew harshly against your backs, the mix of dry dirt and sand hitting their exposed skin.

“Are you okay over there?” Billy shouted over the blowing wind. “Y/N?”

“I’m fine!” You blinked away tears from the dirt that stung your eyes, squeezing your legs to make your horse move faster. You could just barely make out your family’s farm, but with each passing second it became more and more obscure.

“Sweetheart, we have to go to the stables! It’s closer to us than your house!” He veered his horse over to the left.

“I can’t! My folks will worry and—”

“Y/N!” He snaps you out of your spiraling thoughts. “Please!”

You quickly followed him and turned toward the stables. Billy slammed the front doors open, causing chaos to erupt inside. The other horses stood on their hind legs, thrashing as the harsh wind blew the dust inside. You raced inside as Billy jumped off his horse and slammed the stable doors shut, grabbing bales of wheat and shoving them by the front. You took deep breaths as you tried calming your own horse, resting your forehead against the head of your horse.

“This dust storm ain’t gonna go away anytime soon.” Billy rubbed dust off his face, removing his mask. “We’ll be fine in here.”

You nodded weakly, combing your fingers through your horse’s dusty hair. “We shouldn’t have gone out— I-I promised my pa that I’d be back—”

“Hey, look at me.” He went over and took your fidgeting hand. “They’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. When the storm eventually calms down, we'll head over to your place.” He slowly helped you off the horse and held your dirtied face in his hands, slipping your bandana off and wiping your muddy tears. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You took a breath, holding onto his wrists, following his breathing pattern. You rested your forehead on his, shutting your eyes. “Okay.”

The dust storm only accumulated as time progressed. The field and crops were covered in piles of dust once more and the automobiles were suddenly buried underneath the dried dirt. Those who were inside any buildings had dust seeping through the smallest slivers, despite the taped downed windows and towels blocking the doors. It was as if the storm would never stop, deeply worrying the Ashford family for their daughter’s safety.

“James, you can’t leave!” Jo whispered toward her husband, arms crossed over her chest in disbelief. “It’s late and you wouldn’t be able to see anything with all of that dust blowin’. Adam worries for his sister, but imagine the grief if he lost his pa and his sister?”

“I can’t sleep without knowin’ if my little girl is fine, Jo,” James argued, tightly tying a handkerchief around his head. “If Adam wakes, don’t tell him where his pa went—”

“James!” She held his arm in desperation, holding eye contact. “The storm might end soon, don’t risk it.” She looked between his eyes as he glanced toward the backdoor. “Please.”

His gaze softened at his wife’s demeanor and pulled her into a hug. “I’ll wait.”

“Thank you.” She murmured, wrapping her arms around him. “When the storm dies down, you can go. I won’t stop you then… I worry about our little girl too.”

The storm kept blowing until early morning. The crops were now either torn out of the ground or buried deep within dry dirt and families had given up on keeping the dust out of their homes. James and Josephina Ashford fell asleep at their kitchen table waiting for the storm to pipe down while you fell asleep in the stables in the security of your lover’s arms. William H. Bonney, on the other hand, stayed awake. He was constantly listening for the winds to quiet to let you know you could head home. In the early hours of the new day, Billy gently shook the woman beside him awake.

“Sweetheart, wake up.” He brushed the dust off that had fallen on you overnight, watching you shift closer to him. “Gorgeous.”

“Give me a minute, William.” You groaned, using his government name as a threat.

He chuckled and sat up straight, bringing you along with him. “The storm stopped, you can go home now.”

Your eyes shot open and you looked over at the male incredulously. “You should’ve said that first, idiot. Let’s go.”

Billy smiled as he stood, helping you up. He shook the final bits of dust off as best as he could and moved the hay bales away from the doors. Billy tilted his head toward you, silently signaling you to head home. You grinned and picked up your dress, racing over to the house without stumbling. You burst into the house and discarded the dust entering as well, finding your parents standing by the kitchen’s backdoor. James had his handkerchief tied across his face, triggering your tears.

“Y/N.” Her father let out a breath of relief and engulfed you in a tight hug. “You’re safe. You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed into your father’s shirt, clinging onto him. “I’m so sorry, pa.”

“Why are you crying, sweet girl?” He rubbed your face. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t go straight home. I wanted to be out more, so I-I rode on the horses with Billy an-and then the storm started up. I shouldn’t have gone. I should’ve gone home right away. I should’ve stayed home. I shouldn’t have—”

“Hey, you’re alright.” James sat you down in one of the wooden chairs, removing his handkerchief from his face. “You’re safe. You’re home.”

You sniffled, looking up at your mother who had tears in her eyes too. “I’m sorry, mama. I didn’t wanna worry you…”

“My baby,” She knelt on the ground, taking your hands in her own. “I’m just glad you’re safe. The worst didn’t happen. You’re here. You aren’t hurt.”

Billy knocked on the side of the wall, making his presence known. In return, all heads whipped over to him. “I brought the groceries your daughter bought the other day.”

“William, come over here.” Your father beckoned him over.

“Yes, sir?” Billy stood by your side, removing his hat.

James sighed, putting his hand out. “Thank you for watching over my daughter.”

“Anytime.” Billy shook his hand, bringing him in for a hug. “I would risk my life for your daughter every single time.”

You lightly sock his arm at the mention, lacing your hands together. “Thank you.”

“I mean, now that you’re here, why don’t you help clear the dust out of our house? I’m sure my daughter has brought in heaps of it from runnin’ in here.” Jo patted her future son-in-law’s shoulder.

You flushed red as Billy chuckled, feeling him squeeze your hand at the comment. “Of course, Mrs. Ashford.”

The young couple got to work clearing out the dust while Jo and James started preparing breakfast for the day. It would be a while until all the dust would clear out of the house completely, but it wasn’t the worst problem they had. The dust storm that day might have ended, but little did the Ashford family know that it would only be the true beginning of their hardships.

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slutforsnow · 10 months ago

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

HE WOULD ABSO-FUCKIN'-LUTELY

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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enviedear · 11 months ago

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ain't it a gentle sound, rolling in the graves

⤷ billy bonney

౨ৎ synopsis— an outlaw on borrowed time finds solace in the gravedigger's daughter. she's the flowers growing underneath the stones marking the place fit for his overdue remains.

౨ৎ warnings— talks of death and the dead, unresolved ending, billy being sad and lonesome, and a bunch of flowery language. 2.1k words

request ⊹ send me your thoughts

the grounds of the dead feel more like home than the adobe brick walls you've always known. rarely, does anyone else stop by to visit. your heart harbors no blame for their apprehension.. the graves attract the worst of beasts— and not the kinds such as coyotes and wolves— desperate men.

it's not uncommon for sacred remains to be unearthed times over by the forlorn. those with debts, twisted needs, and cruel intentions shovel away the sanctity of the decaying.

you've attended every burial and thus, every re-burial. sometimes the bodies are gone, never to be returned, but still the hole in the earth is filled and laid with stones. your father mutters prayers to the spirits that remain, wandering lonely without their last tie to the living.

he opts to leave as soon as possible afterward, but you never seem to find the will. just you alone with the dead.

all your time spent here, and yet, tonight is marked the first of another breathing figure standing above the graves just as you. his back faces you, legs long, hair umber, and clothes well-worn.

you're too slow to notice the pistol at his side before you make a noise, prompting him to turn to you. the wind is a quiet whistle but you only hear the thump of your frightened heart.

his pale blue eyes pierce through the fade of sunlight, sweeping across every inch of you in one swift motion before straightening, "i'll be gone soon. i apologize if i wasn't supposed to be up here this late."

there's a flash of recognition in your mind, a small sliver. the young man ahead of you is known to offer men up to early graves, a true laborer of the devil and his reapers.

you swallow hard, trying to find your voice amidst the surge of fear and curiosity, "who are you?" you manage to ask, your words barely audible.

the young man's lips curl into a faint smile, "names don't really matter in this place," he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice, "but you can call me william. or billy, if you prefer."

"billy?" the name ushers in recollection, sharp and eerie, down your spine, the weight of its significance settling heavily on your mind.

you've heard stories about him, whispered tales of his destructive deeds. a known gunslinger, killer, and outlaw alone with you. if he wanted, you could join the bodies below your soles and no one could relay the tale.

"what are you doing here?" you inquire cautiously, keeping a safe distance between yourself and him.

his eyes narrow slightly as he scans the graveyard, his gaze lingering on the weathered tombstones and wooden crosses, "i came seeking comfort," he answers cryptically, "the dead make for fine listeners."

the air grows heavy with tension as you contemplate his words. your instincts scream at you to flee, to escape from this unholy meeting. but something about him draws you in, a morbid curiosity that refuses to be ignored.

"why did you bring that?" you pause, hesitant, "the gun." nodding towards the weapon strapped to his side.

billy's expression shades for a moment before he shrugs nonchalantly, "protection," he states simply. "not t'smart to go without one. not here."

a chill runs down your spine as his words sink in. you've always known of the monsters traversing this land, but for some reason your mind refuses to place billy alongside them. you draw closer to him instead, "are you... someone i'd need protection from?" you venture to ask, your voice weak.

he chuckles softly, a sound that echoes eerily through the graveyard, "m'no different from those who wander these grounds," he says, his voice dripping with an unsettling mix of melancholy and dismay, "but i won't hurt you, sweetheart. m'just a wandering soul."

silence settles over the graveyard, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl. you study billy's face, trying to decipher the true nature behind his enigmatic words.

as the setting sun dances upon his features, you find yourself captivated by the depths of his eyes. they hold a sadness that no words could adequately convey, and yet, a glimmer of hope lingers within them. as if he carries the weight of the world upon his shoulders, but still possesses the strength to bear it.

the wind whispers through the graveyard, carrying with it the scents of flowers and freshly turned earth. you take a step closer, unable to resist the gravitational pull drawing you towards him. his presence is both intimidating and alluring, like a force of nature that you cannot help but be drawn to.

"do you have someone laid here?" you inquire softly, your voice tinged with curiosity.

billy's gaze meets yours, his eyes glimmering with a mixture of sorrow and longing, "no," he replies, his voice as gentle as a whisper on the breeze, "but i've been looking down at graves my whole life. suppose i know the dead better than the living now."

a gust of wind rustles through the trees, causing leaves to dance in the air. the atmosphere charged with a heat that seems to swelter between the two of you.

"tell me, stranger," billy says, his voice filled with an irregular vulnerability, "do you know who i am?"

you pause, the seriousness of his question sinking in, "there are posters around town," you reply honestly, "but i imagine you're just fine. probably just best left unprovoked."

a wistful smile flickers across billy's face. "yeah, something like that," he murmurs, his gaze fixed on a distant horizon. "i don't want to..." he trails off before cursing, "i won't hurt you, swear. you can come closer."

curiosity takes hold of you once more as you inch closer to him, "necessity? is that what led you down your path?" you inquire, your voice laced with compassion. he looks about your age, and you find it hard to believe he created this life for himself in earnest.

billy's eyes meet yours, filled with remorse, "desperation more like," he confesses, his words woven with regret, "i was born into a world that offered me no chances, no opportunities for redemption. so i became what they expected me to be— easier that way."

you can't help but feel a pang of sympathy as you observe the anguish etched onto his weathered face, "you seem quite soft of heart, despite it."

billy's lips twitch, a fleeting semblance of a smile before he turnes his gaze away from you. "appearances can be deceiving," he mutters, his voice tinged with bitterness. "you don't know the things i've done, the lives i've taken."

a heaviness settles in the air as silence drapes over both of you like a suffocating shroud. the wind is steadily dying down, leaving behind a bizarre calmness that mirrors the abyss of outlaws' past.

"but people can change," you offer softly, your words floating on a fragile hope, "no one is defined solely by their mistakes. not unless they want to be."

he scoffs, the sound dripping with contempt, "change is a luxury i can't afford, sweetheart" he replies, his voice carrying a bit of resignation, "some paths we tread on have no way out."

your heart aches at the defeat in his words, but a stubborn determination blossoms within you. you refuse to accept that someone stood beyond redemption, especially someone with a soul as bright as his.

"everyone deserves a chance at redemption," you press, voice infused with conviction, "no matter how far they've wandered their path."

billy's eyes flicker with an unfamiliar glimmer as he turns to face you once more, "you really believe that?" he asks, searching for sincerity.

"i do," you answer firmly, "sometimes it takes just one person to believe in us for us to find our way back."

he furrows his brows, "and how'd you figure that?"

you shrug, "my daddy digs all the graves. sometimes the entire town comes out for someone's burial, but most of the time it's just us." you sigh, taking a glance at him, "but even those with only our eyes to witness their descent get a prayer of hope. they may never know it, but the man who dug their grave offers redemption. a belief of good in the after."

"and what if i don't deserve that?" he asks, his voice laced with uncertainty.

you reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, "deserving or not, redemption isn't earned through perfection," you explain softly, “it's found in the willingness to confront our mistakes and strive for something better. all the small acts of kindness we give and a genuine desire to change."

he hums in contemplation before replying, "you're real smart, you know that? probably too smart to be wastin' your time on me."

you smile gently, your hand still resting on billy's shoulder, "maybe i am smart," you say, amusement in your tone, "but that doesn't mean i can't see the good in people." a breath, "and for wasting my time on you? i don't see it like that at all. you've given me no trouble."

billy looks at you, his eyes searching for any signs of deception. after a moment of silence, he sighs and shakes his head. "you don't know what you're getting yourself into," he warns. "i'm not the kind of man a nice girl should be redeeming."

"i'm not naïve," you reply, your voice steady and unwavering. "i won't play the part of the fool, but, i don't see fault in offering friendship."

billy's face softens as he listens to your words. it's as if a spark of hope ignites within him, one he thought had long been extinguished. "you remind me of someone," he murmurs, his voice tinged with nostalgia, "but they faded away a long time ago."

your grip on billy's shoulder tightens slightly as you lean in closer. "no one ever truly fades away," you say.

a twinge of sadness tugs at your heartstrings as you observe him. despite his reputation as an outlaw, there was something vulnerable about him that drew you in. something desperate for connection and understanding. you couldn't help but wonder what sort of troubles led him down a path so different from your own.

without thinking, you reach a hand towards him, offering a small gesture of comfort and camaraderie—or perhaps just to touch flesh to flesh after so much time among the remains.

he hesitates before slipping his own hand into your grasp, palms meeting under the fading light of dusk, "if i were a devout man i'd call you an angel," he murmurs softly, squeezing your hand gently.

you're glad that the moon is just starting to rise, casting a silvery glow over the graveyard. it makes him look almost… sacred, despite being a wanted man. you can't help but to feel safe in his presence.

your eyes drift to his hand in yours, suddenly nervous by your forward action. caught between pulling away and wondering what his touch feels like elsewhere—his skin rough, as expected, calloused from hours and hours of holding a gun.

but there's a warmth to his touch that surprises you, a sense of humanity that contradicts the tales you've heard about him. you look up to find him studying you, his eyes scanning every inch of yours while he holds onto your hand. the air thick with anticipation and something else, something unknown but suddenly intoxicating.

in this moment of solace, a large part of your mind is wrought with contemplation. the gunslinging stranger is tame as a loyal dog, but he also defies the boundaries of both your respective futures. as much as you want to hold onto him, reality begins to settle in and you reluctantly release your hold of him. the moon has risen higher in the sky, the air colder.

"i should go," billy says regretfully, cutting through the silence between you.

you nod, understanding that he needs to keep moving, "i hope to see you again, when things settle down."

it's a hopeful thing to wish for, to ask of him, but he gives you a grin, "you will. i have a bad habit of stickin' around where i'm not wanted."

as he turns to leave, you watch him go with a mess of sentiments swirling inside you. part of you wishes he could stay a little longer, but another part knows that it's for the best. his lifestyle is dangerous and unpredictable, and being around him would only put you in danger. still, you let that hopeful ember spark with the indelible nature of his words.

you take one last look at his retreating figure before turning back to the graves. finally time for you to say goodbye your solemn sanctary. as you pass stone markers and crosses, a final glance back at the graveyard where billy disappeared into the darkness and a demure prayer for the backsliders' gunman not to veer too far away.

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

billy taglist— @honey-bees-13 @poppyflower-22 @black-yn @siriuslybeloved @sherlollyliveson18 @cosmicspacewitch @aravenswritingdeskblog @sabrinasbd @cqsmo @coconut-dreamz @preciouspinkyy @dominqueeekk @black-yn

₊˚౨ৎ˚₊ to remain on my taglist, make sure to interact by reblogging

#billy angst #billy bonney angst #billy the kid x reader #billy #billy the kid 2022 #billy x reader #billy bonney #billy the kid #billy bonney x reader #i know everyone’s in their coriolanus era but #tom blyth #tom blyth!billy the kid #william h. bonney #billy antrim #billy bonney fluff

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 8 months ago

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I did it once again y’all, I made something sad.

I think the audio being from lion king makes this even sadder.

tag:

@slutforsnow

#billy the kid gif #billy the kid hc #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x reader #william h bonney #billy mccarty #billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x oc #older brother core #the runt #runt of the litter #billy the kid fanfiction #angst

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goosita · 10 months ago

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hello my friends

apologies for being inactive the last few days, ya girl is off her concerta and its been so hard to write aaaaaa BUT

im in a billy mood today so if anyone has any billy requests or ideas pls send them my way!! work is slow today 🥲

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #billy the kid fluff #billy the kid smut #billy the kid angst #tom blyth #tom blyth billy the kid #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #william h bonney

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chaoticacademicjournal · 10 months ago

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Familiar Faces- y/n x Billy Fanficion

A/N: Hey, I'm kinda new to tumblr in terms of fanfiction writing. This fanfiction is a three parter, so bear with me.

As for now, there is no content warning except for the occasional angst.

So I hope you enjoy!

——

You refused to let the past define you at all. Sometimes, you’d look back on it and regard it with neutrality. You’re grateful that your hardships and friendships brought you to who you are today. But there was always one person that never made you forget who you used to be. Even if that person is gone, he’s lingering behind your back no matter what you do and see. It’s like he never left in the first place.

“Do you propose that The House might plan to use Jesse’s gang to intimidate the farmers?” Alexander Mcsween’s voice cut through your line of thinking. Your eyes shift as you get your bearings on the world around you.

“What makes you think he hasn’t done so already? Jesse’s gang already shot and killed a farmer in front of his family. The House specifically hired Jesse’s gang because they’re deadly and ruthless. The House, no, Mr. Riley, is counting on their brutality to edge Mr. Turnstile and you out of the market.” You respond. Your eyes flit over your surroundings. You remind yourself that you’re at Mr. Turnstile’s house helping Alexander Mcsween expose the Corrupt dealings of Mr. Riley in court.

You sit comfortably in the mahogany chair on a scarlet red silk cushion. Drumming your fingers on the wood, you look down at the circular table and read over court documents, financial records, the Lincoln Country newspaper, and wanted posters for Jesse and the gang. You must go over how you got into this position in the first place.

Since you’ve strolled into Lincoln County with your friends, people regard you with respect and dignity. You are the most well-read and well-spoken person in town, which was why Mr. Tunstall hired you as a constituent for Mr. Mcsween, his trusted Lawyer. At first, you turned him down. It was unwise to get involved in such dangerous matters. But he offered you a salary that would make you and your friend’s lives quite comfortable, so you accepted the job.

Truthfully, you started as a mailwoman, delivering letters between the warring businesses. You never meant to associate with one side or the other. But Mr.Tunstall paid good money, and you needed his salary to take care of your friends back at the cottage on the outskirts of Lincoln County. You’re just surprised that Mr. Tunstall hired a woman for this job.

“Do you think I have an equal chance of bringing this to court?” The lawyer asked you. You look at him with narrowed eyes and wonder why he’s asking someone like you for advice. He’s the lawyer, and you’re only book-smart. But, you regard him calmly.

“Depends. Mr. Riley has friends in high places. I suggest investigating his influence over the town, finding out how many friends he has in high places, and seeing if this runs deeper than shady business practices.” You told him. You reach for your English black tea in a delicate tea cup. Tea always calmed you down or gave you energy.

The front door swings open, and you see Mr. Tunstall step in with a gentle smile. He had a peaceful disposition. He seems glad about something, and you don’t know what. You see a glimpse of a towering figure in a leather hat right behind him. He wore a fitted navy blue collared shirt, and his hat obscured his face. You wonder if Mr. Tunstall succeeded in getting that outlaw to work for him.

Then you see the outlaw as Mr. Tunstall steps aside to reveal him.

It’s Billy the Kid. Everyone knows about him. He’s feared and revered. You’ve seen his wanted posters in every town you’ve traveled to. You’ve read the articles that kept track of his crimes and adventures. Even after reading and hearing about Billy the Kid, in your eyes, you knew him as Billy McCarthy.

He’s the man who ran away and made you fend for yourself all those years ago.

As soon as your eyes meet, Billy’s calm demeanor shifts to a startled but hopeful expression.

“Y/n?” He lets out a steady but relieved breath. The corner of his mouth curves up to reveal a grin. Finally, he found you, he’s reunited with you, and all Billy yearns to do is explain why he left and embrace you in a warm hug.

But you remain calm and distant. You had a feeling you’d see Billy again. But instead of running into his arms like you would’ve all those years ago, all you can feel is apathy and a fit of deep anger.

“My name is not Y/n. My name is Jackie. And you are?” You have no choice but to pretend you don’t know who he is and go by your alias. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, and he is far from the boy you used to know.

“You can’t be serious,” Billy remarked. His expression crumples up into frustration. He knows what you’re doing and understands that he deserves it, but he can’t help but feel frustrated. He wants to say more.

“Do you two know each other?” Mr. Tunstall’s question cuts between the tension emanating from you and Billy. You slightly turn to him to address his question.

“No. I have no clue who this man is. Is he your new hire?” You lie through your teeth, and you do it very well. It irks Billy as he shifts uncomfortably. You used to be honest and never knew how to lie. But now? You lied masterfully.

“Yes. I’d like to introduce you and Mr. Mcsween to Billy the Kid. He will be working under me as hired security and muscle. I hope you can get along and work closely together.” Mr. Tunstall smiles graciously. He remains unaware of your hidden history with Billy, and you decide to ensure he never learns that history.

All you can feel is a pervasive sense of dread. Not only did you vow never to speak or see Billy again, but you vowed never to let him back into your life. But circumstances force you to reconsider your vow and learn how to coexist with him.

You nod and give a false smile. It fools Mcsween and Tunstall.

But it doesn’t fool Billy the Kid.

—--

“We need to talk.” He strides into the private study where you read classic literature. You were facing the bookcase as your eyes scanned the intricate texts of Jane Austen. You usually read whatever Tunstall had in his library when you have free time. You turn to address Billy and are met with his piercing gaze.

Billy’s intense gaze would’ve left you afraid or intimidated. But you only kept your neutral expression and flipped the page.

“Y/n-”

“The name’s Jackie. Can’t you remember the first time, or must I remind you?” You coldly remind him. Your eyes remain glued to the pages of the book.

Your apathy sets Billy off. He doesn’t like your cold attitude and misses who you used to be. If anyone else regarded him with indifference, he’d brush it off. But it came from you, and he didn’t enjoy it.

Not one bit.

“Cut the bullshit. You know who I am, and I know who you are. You don’t need to pretend you never knew me when we’re alone.” Billy’s anger rises as you keep your calm. He hates the way you’ve changed, and you hate the way he keeps pressing for your attention. You calmly close the book and put it back where you found it. You turn to him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You keep your cards to your chest and hide your warring emotions quite well. It bothers Billy. He knows you’re hiding your feelings, and it frustrates him. He remembered how you used to confide to him about everything. He'd see if you felt happiness, sadness, or anger because you’d tell him.

When he realized that he might’ve lost that trust he used to have with you, pain washes over his body.

“Don’t. Do not do that.” He tries to command you with a dangerous edge to his voice. His hands ball into fists as he tries to control his anger and desperation.

“Do what?” You coldly ask him. You think Billy’s only angry because you’re not scared or intimidated by him, but it runs deeper.

“Do not hide your feelings from me. I know you’re feelin' somethin'; just tell me!” Billy exclaims. But it doesn’t faze you. All you do is slip your hands into your dress pockets and tilt your head to examine his emotions. You can’t afford to be vulnerable with him, not now, not ever.

You pick up on the fact that he’s frustrated and desperate. But you don’t exactly know why. Indeed, he’s not angry because you regard him with apathy, right?

“Billy, usually you’re calm under the deadliest situations, so why are you so angry?” You ask him with a neutral demeanor. Billy’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. It wasn’t fair to him. He used to read you like a book, and now you’re reading him like a historian reading a tome, and he disliked it.

“Because you’re actin’ like this towards me, and I thought that when we’d meet again, you’d–”

“I’d what? Run into your arms and give you a big O’l hug?” You scoff and cross your arms. Your mask of indifference falls away, revealing your true feelings. You wonder why he’d think that after all these years of his absence, you’d run into his arms and welcome him back.

Billy freezes. His shoulders stiffened, and his eyes widened. It dawned on him that you’d be angry for him leaving you all these years ago. He wanted to explain and desperately wanted to get in your good graces.

But most of all, he wanted you to love him again.

“I can explain–”

“I don’t need your explanation. I don’t need you digging up the past that should stay buried. All I need you to do is stay out of my way. I’ve built a good life for myself and my friends without you, and I don’t need you to come back and fuck things up for me. The person I was in the past, the person you knew and wish to see in the past, is gone. She’s had to toughen up after realizing the person who’s promised to protect her abandoned her. If you wish to see her, she’s never coming back. I suggest you give up on reconnecting with me and do your damn job.” You’re firm, vindictive, and, most of all, fearsome. Your eyes look up at him in extreme distaste and resentment.

Billy’s mind struggles to process the fact that the girl he grew up with and loved dearly is gone and replaced with a brave and calculating woman. Billy’s always regretted leaving you behind, but now? He wished he brought you with him.

He wished he’d never let you go.

“Please. Don’t do this.” Billy can only say with a quivering and heavy tone. He steps towards you to try his hand at comforting you. But you instinctively step back and put your indifferent mask back on.

“Now, if you excuse me, I have matters to attend to.” You stride past him and exit the private study. Leaving Billy behind the same way he left you behind.

But Billy’s not the type to give up

#billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid #angst #y/n #fanfiction #kid antrim #william bonney

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kaylasficrecs · 10 months ago

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omg part 2 is so good i had to reblog this one instead of part 1

YES PT 2 PLSSSS

ofccc i’ve been literally thinking about this TOO much. i need to write it, even tho i have like 10 drafts half written (oops😋)

part one

REAL LOVE BABY !

warnings: fluff, smut, kissing, oral (f. receiving), fingering, handjob, riding (barely), missionary, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), body worship, praise, dirty talk

Billy did ride down to your family’s farm not too long after that. A few days after he hadn’t seen you in town. He knew he was in the right place when he saw Aspen in the pasture.

You were just up the dusty road, brushing one of your ponies. She was a light beige with a braided white mane. But here he was looking at you, your clothes were a bit dusty and more leisurely than how he saw you in town. Trousers without a skirt on top, different than how you’d go out in public.

His horse trotted up the road to your barn. You turned to see Billy, startling you a bit.

“Billy, you startled me.” You said with a laugh, holding your chest. He laughed a bit back, dismounting his horse. “I was gonna come to town.”

“The old butcher kind of hinted me this way.” He admitted, rubbing the side of his horse. You dropped your brush into a bucket, opening a gate to let your pony into the pasture. “Hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all.” You walk over to Billy, running your hand along his horse, admiring its spotted pattern. “A pinto?”

Billy nodded, patting his horse. He was proud of her, she’d been good to him for the past while.

“She a beauty.” You admitted, pulling one of your sugar cubes out of your pocket. “Can I?”

“Of course, she don’t get much of those.” You then grab a second one as a treat, putting your hand out to his horse. “I think she likes you.”

“What about you?” You pet his horse as she ate the sugar cubes from your hand, rubbing behind her ear.

“Well, are you gonna let me get to know you?” He asked, a sincere look in his eyes. He tilted his head waiting for your answer.

“I’m not telling you to leave, am I?” You step a bit closer to Billy, a little bit of tension in the air. He smiled down at you, prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. His gun still holstered to his pants.

“Reckon I’ll stay then.”

Billy came by a lot more after that. He’d stop you when you were in town, almost making you forget what you needed in the first place. Coming to your egg and milk stand even if he didn’t need any because you gave him plenty free of charge. He helped you with the horses, taught you how to handle a gun. You really did like him.

He hadn’t come seen you in a while and by now you knew he was an outlaw with a bounty to his head. You assumed he was dead or ran from town.

He didn’t tell you what he’d done to get this bounty to his name, the only way you knew was from the posters in town.

You were grabbing hay from the loft when you heard a creek behind you, you turn around stumbling to the ground. Looking up to see a familiar face.

“Hey, didn’t mean to scare you there.” You took a breath of relief as you saw Billy come up the stairs. Your heart rate slowed back down as he pulled you back to your feel. “Thought you saw a ghost or something?”

“Pretty much.” You wrapped your arms around him, confusing him. He slowly wraps his arms around your lower waist embracing you. “Thought you were dead, Billy”

“I’m right here, aren’t I?” He laughs letting go of you. You lean up catching off guard, pressing your lips to him. His hands grab your hips, stumbling backwards a bit.

You pulled back, looking him in the eyes embarrassed but he looked back down at yours laced with passion.

“I’m sorry, jus’ missed you.” His hand traces your jaw, caressing your cheek. Leaning back down to kiss you, a little more gentle this time. Your hands pressed against his firm chest, standing on your tippy toes to reach him.

He pulled away, his lips still brushing yours as you leant against him. “Missed you too.”

“Don’t go leaving me again.” Your fingers still curled in the fabric of his shirt. He looked down at you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“M’sorry, didn’t mean to.” His voice was soft, soothing your surge of emotions. You stepped back from him, giving him a few inches of space. “Don’t go running from me now?”

“Billy, you’re all I think about.” You admitted to him, his blue eyes filling with want. His hand found yours, pulling it to his chest. “You don’t get it.”

“No, no I get it.” He rambles, pulling you back closer to him. His nose brushing against yours. You feel his heart pounding against where he holds your hand. “You think I didn’t want to be here every dying second, I couldn’t stand not seeing you for a few weeks.”

“What happened Billy?” You pleaded, begging for a reason. You watch as his he swallows harshly. He shakes his head, looking away from your pleading eyes.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m here now.” He didn’t like being dishonest with you or keeping secrets, but he didn’t want his innocent girl knowing about his crimes. Tainting your kind view of the word and who he was.

“Did you miss me? Or am I reading us wrong?” You ask, fingers entwining with his as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Reading us wrong? Baby, I’m in love.” He pressed his lips back to yours, kissing you with all he had in him. His passion and hunger. His tongue sliding past yours lips, pressing and sliding against yours. Your breaths were heavy when he pulled away, kissing the corner of your morn and then cheek. “Every part of you.”

“Billy,” You whisper his name like an oath, threading your hands in his brown locks. “Every night, day, morning, you’re all that’s on mind. The second I wake up, it’s just you.”

“Good,” He mumbles against your lips, unable to pull away from your touch. He looks at you, wishing he could see all of you. “What about me do you think about?”

“Your face, how pretty you are.” You whisper embarrassed, pulling away from his slightly. His lips part leaning in for another kiss but you pull back. “Your voice, your eyes, your touch, how I want to feel all of you against me. The way you make me feel hot when I feel your skin against mine. When you look at me and I feel all funny.”

He pressed kisses to your neck, making you feel hot between your legs. He noticed when your thighs clench together, nipping at the skin of your neck. His hands pulled your body flush against yours.

“Me too, baby.” He mumbles into your skin, pulling away to see your flushed face. Your eyes begging for him to touch you. You look down as his thumb sinks past the waist band of your trousers. “Do you want me like I want you?”

You nodded, allowing his fingers to unbutton your trousers. Your hands pulled his suspenders off his shoulders. Then travelling to unbutton his shirt one by one.

“Billy, do you want this?” Your eyes pleading with approval, he was quick to nod.

“Yes, so bad. All I’ve ever wanted since I saw you.” Your heartbeat quickens at his confession. You pull his shirt off his torso, kissing his bare chest. Kissing and sucking his pale skin, leaving a small trail of bruises. “H-have you done this?”

You shook your head as you let him pull down your trousers, kicking them off to the ground beside you. His hands kneading the fat of your hips.

“Does that matter to you?” He reassuringly caresses your cheek, brushing your hair away from your face again.

“Jus’ don’t wanna hurt you.” He softly kisses your bottom lip, mumbling incoherent against it. “Don’t wanna break something so perfect, so delicate.”

“You won’t, not made of glass.” He laughs against your lips, fingers sliding down to unbutton your blouse. You help pull the rest of it off, leaving you in your undergarments. The air suddenly felt cold as his breath caught. “What is it?”

“Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He tilts your head up to look him in the eyes. He slowly pushing you against a wooden beam in the hayloft. “Bet you taste so sweet.”

“Billy what’re you doin’?” You watch as he falls to his knees, hands caressing your thighs, pulling down your undergarments. “I thoug—“

“Shhh, let me taste you.” You lift your legs to help him take off the last of your clothing. You close your eyes as he places hot kisses up your thigh, his hand pulled your leg over his shoulder.

You opened your eyes, looking down at him between your legs, his blue eyes piercing yours. He presses his hot tongue to your wet folds, your jaw dropping to let out a breathless gasp. Your fingers entwining into his hair, nails digging into his scalp emitting a groan from him. His lips wrapping around your clit making you lean your head back against the post.

“F-fuck, Billy.” You whined, looking down at his hungry eyes. His large hand kneading your skin as you licked at your folds. His tongue pushing past your entrance, thrusting in and out. “Oh my god.”

Your hands tugged at his messy hair causing him to groan into your pussy. His muffled noises vibrating into you. His thumb presses circles to your clit, whimpers emitting from your lips.

Your nails scratch into his scalp as he presses two fingers past your entrance, slowly stretching out your untouched pussy. The burn of the stretch causing to cry out his name.

“Shh, you’re doing so good.” He praised, mumbling words into your thigh. His fingers curled, reaching a spot inside you that made your back arch off the beam. “Yeah, just like that baby.”

“Billy, feels weird.” You whine, hips jerking against his hand. Your stomach felt tight like a wire about to snap. He made sure to grind his palm into your swollen clit while his fingers curled inside you. Your pussy squelched every time he thrusted his fingers back inside, your wetness coating his thick fingers.

“Come for me, be a good girl and come for me.” He pleaded, staring at you as the pitch of your moans picked up. You squeezed your eyes shut, hips bucking against his hand as the wire inside you snapped. “That’s it, feels good?”

You gasp as you recover from your orgasm, Billy pulling his fingers from you, placing them in his mouth. You watch Billy suck your juices off his finger on his knees under you. He lifts your leg off his shoulder, standing up to tower back over you.

“You taste so good, wanna try?” You didn’t get to answer before his mouth was on you. Your taste on his tongue invading your wanting mouth. You wished you could taste him too.

“Billy,” You push him back towards a stack of hay, pushing him to sit down. You straddle his lap, pulling off the garment covering your breasts. His tongue immediately circling your hard nipples, his hands fondling where his tongue wasn’t exploring. Your wet pussy pressed against the rough fabric of his pants. His painful erection pressing into your clit. “I wanna feel you.”

“Feel me then,” He responded into your chest. Pulling your hips onto him. Your shaking hands go to unbutton his pants, slowing pulling down the zipper. He lifts his hips for you pull down his pants and zipper. You nearly whined when you saw his length.

“Billy— How’s it going to…” His hands rub soothing circles on your back. His lips still kissing along your chest.

“Gotta be slow, it’ll fit just fine.” You nodded, wrapping your fingers around his cock. He was long, really long. You didn’t really know how big they were supposed to be but Billy’s was pretty. The way it slightly curved up, precum dribbling from his pink tip. You ran your thumb along the vein protruding from the side. “Oh— god.”

You looked down at his reaction, slowly stroking him up and down. He groaned into your breasts, teeth grazing your nipple.

“You like that Billy?” He nodded, mumbling ‘yes’ into you. You quickened your action, stroking him a bit fast. You ran your thumb across the tip smearing his precum around his tip. “Tell me.”

“God— if you keep that up I won’t last long.” He groaned leaning his head back, his breathing picking up. “I thought this was your first time.”

“It is,” You experimentally twist your wrist, a cracked moan escaping his swollen lips. Bucking his hips into your hand. “Billy, do it for me.”

“No, wanna be inside you.” He grabs your wrist pulling your hand from his cock. You whine, frustrated and wanting to see him fall apart. “Easy girl.”

Billy was kind of controlling the way he took your hips in his hands, guiding you onto his cock. He guided it to your entrance for you, slowly pulling you down on his cock. You jaw went slack at the stretch, your nails digging into his biceps.

“You wanna stop, just tell me.” He holds your hips letting you adjust to him. You leaned over to hide your face in his neck while your cunt adjusted to his girth.

“No, keep going, I can take it.” Was all you mumbled into his neck that was coherent. His hands pulled your hips down until there wasn’t a slither of space between you two.

His hands grabbed at the flesh of your ass, pulling you a few inches before pulling you back down. You were tight and so fucking warm. The way you wrapped around him made his brain go fuzzy. You allowed him to control your movements until you got acquainted to the feel, it wasn’t much different than cantering.

“Fuck—just like that.” You placed your hands on his shoulders, bouncing your hips up and down. The noises leaving his lips were like honey. He kissed along your jaw trying to distract himself from how you felt so good, better than anyone before. “So tight.”

“Billy,” You moan his name, grind your hips down on his cock. His thumb rolled lazy circles around your clit making your legs shake. Your legs got sore fast and it didn’t go unnoticed by Billy.

He pushed you over onto your back, pushing his cock back into your gushing cunt. You begged him over and over, ‘faster’. “Taking me so well, sweet girl.”

Your back arched off the hay that dug into your skin. His thumb rubbed faster against your clit, leggings shaking as they wrapped around his torso.

“You’re close, almost there.” His lips trailed her neck, free hand pressing against her breasts as they bounced with each of his thrusts. He mumbled praises into her skin. “So beautiful.”

“Billy, so big.” You mewl, his tip brushing your cervix with each thrust. Your hips bucking against him as you took each of his harsh thrusts. “M’gonna—“

“That’s it, come on my cock.” He kept his pacing, sucking dark bruises into your neck. Claiming you as his girl. “You gonna come for me?”

You nodded as you felt your body go hot, your cum coating his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your nails left deep red scratches down his back.

“That’s it, there’s my girl.” He pulled out, stroking his cock until his cum spilled onto the hay and your thighs.

You laid breathless letting the hay scratch at your skin. Billy panted against your neck, hands caressing your sides.

“Not leaving again anytime soon.”

masterlist

#william bonney x reader #billy the kid #smut #fluff #angst #the trifecta #two shot #billy the kid x reader

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fclk-lores · 10 months ago

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happy birthday to my man 🤭🤭 <33

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phfenomena · 11 months ago

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❝sleeping alone ❞ || william h. bonney x f!reader

| A/N- was listening to flatland cavalry and i couldn’t resist a short n sad fic abt billy bc i’m evil

| WARNINGS- a sad man who misses his girlfriend a verrrryyy small mention of death and war.

william h. bonney x reader angst? fluff?

as billy lays alone in the hostel bed he quickly begins to regret agreeing to jesse’s proposal of this job in lincoln county. he’s almost a days ride away from you and he has no idea if you’re okay. he can’t believe he used to sleep like this every night, no one to hold.

his mind wanders to the prayers his mother used to lay over him and joe, before everything turned sour in his life. he can’t remember the last time he prayed, feeling like no one’s listening. he doesn’t need a god when he has you, but he doesn’t have you right now.

he clasps his hands together just like he did all those years ago. “i haven’t done in this in quite some time, sorry if it’s not uniform prayer. i just want my girl to be okay without me, and for her to healthy and safe. oh! and for me not to get shot. amen.” he suddenly feels very stupid and confused as to why he thought his words into the empty air would assist him at all, but anything’s worth a shot. especially when it comes to his girl.

he rolls onto his side, just like he does every night with you. he holds a pillow to front pretending it was you instead a bag of feathers. he never realized how warm you were until he couldn’t feel your warmth at all. his eyes drift close and he falls asleep to memories of you.

eight hours away by horse, you lay alone in your shared bed with billy. only it’s not shared for a while, it’s just your bed. he’s working, he loves working! you thought trying to make yourself feel better about being by your lonesome. the bed feels like it’s miles long with just your body inhabiting it. you stare at the stationary sitting on your desk, illuminated poorly with one candle.

you write slowly and methodically to billy. he won’t be home for months so you figured you’d might as well start the letters. you write paragraphs upon paragraphs of how much you miss him, how much you love him, and how quiet the night is without his laughs filling the air. you trail off and start telling him about the town gossip you’ve heard but eventually get back on track. spraying your perfume over the pages and an invisible kiss by your signature, you fold it up and press the wax to seal it.

billy and jesse walk back in the saloon below the hostel’s doors. “oh! mr. billy you’ve got a letter! from a lady” the young boy wiggles his eyebrows and hands the letter to billy. he tries to fight the smile but jesse pats his back, rather hard but a kind gesture nonetheless. “the girl of yours is already sending letters after a day? you’ve got her wrapped around her finger.” billy shakes his head laughing. “that’s where you’re wrong, it’s the complete opposite.” he confesses and walks up the stairs to read your letter in private.

he instantly notices the scent of your perfume and all of the tension in his body melts away. he’s smiling like an idiot the entire time he’s reading but holds your letter to his chest after. he walks over to his own desk and begins his own letter to you, he might not see you for months but he’ll be damned if he can’t talk to his girl.

he consistently writes to you and letting you know what’s going on and how stressful things have gotten. you’re proud of him for switching to tunstall’s side because it was the right thing to do, you’ll always admire that about him. the worry for his well-being overtakes the admiration as you quickly gather your necessities and get dressed. you’re out the door and mounting your horse within the hour, riding to lincoln. you’d rather walk to hell and back than not see billy before he gets hurt.

you reach lincoln county much faster than you expected, maybe your horse sensed the desperation leaking from your pores. you ask a kind-eyed woman about tunstall and she directs you a few minutes north. you thank her make your way slowly to your destination. as your eyes focus on the beautiful country home in the dark, your heart flutters. you almost feel sick with how anxious you are, your eyes haven’t laid on billy in three months.

you quickly tie your horse to a fence post and rush towards the door, knocking rapidly. an unfamiliar man opens the door and smiles at you. “how can i help you, madam?” he speaks confidently with a british accent, this must be tunstall. “oh well, um, i was just wondering if billy was here?” he snaps his fingers and turns his head to yell for billy.

billy’s stomach dropped upon hearing his name being called, he’s thinking it might be jesse trying to pick a fight but when his eyes settle upon you his world stops. everything slows down but his heart speeds up to impossible levels. he smiles wide and laughs while running to you. his arms envelope you and you’re drowning in his scent, squeezing so hard he thought you might’ve bruised a rib. “what’re you doin’ here, doll? did you ride here alone? do you know how dangerous that is? have you ate? are you okay?” you giggle at his ambush of worried questions and put your hand over his mouth. tunstall walks away with a grin, never seeing billy so happy.

“yes i rode alone, yes i know the dangers, no i haven’t ate yet, and yes i am okay. i just couldn’t take the thought of you being so stressed with the possibility of getting hurt without me here. i also figured it was due time for a visit.” you mutter softly, never taking your eyes off him. drinking in the sights of the man you love with every fiber of your being.

he quickly ushers you inside and guides you to a main room. “gentleman, this is my girl.” he introduces you and you smile and manage a slight wave. “this the girl you’re always talking about and never shutting up about how pretty she is?” billy goes slightly red and opens his mouth up to talk before closing it. just nodding at the embarrassment. you smile up at him “you tell people how pretty you think i am? you’re so sweet! that’s adorable.” billy sighs and leads you to a seat at the table and fixing you a plate for dinner.

as you both lay together that night in the same bed, everything makes sense in the world. you understand war, they just want this feeling to be safe. your eyes begin to fill with tears as you’re just so relieved and happy to be with your love again.

“i was gettin’ real tired of sleeping alone. considered climbing into bed with charlie but i don’t think he’s as warm as you.” you laugh and gently slap his chest.

all is right in the world, because your world is filled with love.

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