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#billy the kid x female!reader
sleekervae · 3 days
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The Bride [0.3]
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Masterlist
Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader
Summary: Eleanor Gets Fired
Warnings: foul language, violence on animals, black eye, mentions of murder
Word Count: 4,452
Tag List: @poppyflower-22 @ponyslayer
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"Kid Antrim Escapes Silver City Jail"
"Jail Guard Loses Armed Robber"
"Armed Robber, Billy Antrim, In the Wind"
The headlines were splashed across the newspaper the next day, with chatter and gossip taking Silver City by storm. People were baffled, curious, and terrified with that they'd read; a "dangerous man" was on the loose, who wouldn't be terrified? When Eleanor read that headline, she said a silent prayer that Billy wouldn't return to Silver City.
Life continued on for her. She's work days the ranch and nights at the saloon, keeping her head down and working hard to scrape up as much money as she could. Jesse would still come around for information on Billy Matthews' cattle, they didn't talk about Billy. No matter how much Eleanor wanted to ask if he'd heard anything, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction to comfort her. Sure, she was indebted to him, but she still didn't trust him.
It was a regular Wednesday morning on the Matthews ranch. The cowboys were herding and taking care of the livestock, bringing eggs and milk to Eleanor in the kitchen as she whipped up lunch for everybody. The sun was pouring in from the open window, the heat just bordering bearable between the oven and the stove, and Eleanor continued to knead her bread dough in silence. Jesse and his gang wanted a new map for the cattle, and she had to wait until Matthews was far from his office before she could snoop around.
"Miss Aubert?" she looked up at the call of her surname. One of the ranch hands were standing in the doorway, sweat-stained with callous hands folded, "Mr. Matthews wants a word with you,"
Eleanor cocked her head, curiosity and apprehension forming in her gut. Matthews had never called for her before.
"I'm in the middle of making his lunch," she said matter-of-factly.
"He said he wants you on the porch. Now," the ranch hand shrugged back, "He don't sound too happy,"
In the back of her mind, Eleanor had a feeling what was about to happen. So, she wiped her hands free of dough, cleaned up her station, and followed the ranch hand outside. Matthews was sitting in his usual porch chair, watching the rest of his cowboys rustle up and saddle his horses and cows. Matthews was an old man, but intimidating all the same with his dark, heavy under eyes, stiff upper lip, and a cigar clenched between his fingers.
Eleanor approached him cautiously, putting on a friendly smile, "You wanted to see me, Mr. Matthews?"
Matthews glanced up at her, his stiff glare softening into a smile of his own, "Yes. Yes I did, Miss Aubert,"
"Eleanor is just fine, sir,"
"Right," he put his cigar between his teeth, turning his gaze back to his ranch, "You see the mare over there, Eleanor?" he pointed out to the fencing. Eleanor looked out, and sure enough there was a mare amongst the other horses, just a bit smaller than the others, but majestic and strong nevertheless.
"Yes, sir,"
"I bought that mare last spring, she was supposed to mate with my horses, give me some babies to raise, make my stock stronger," he drawled, "I just found out last week that this particular is barren. She's no good. Just another dumb fucking animal on a farm,"
Eleanor nodded, confused as to where he was taking this, but she stayed empathetic, "That's terrible," she muttered.
"Yeah, yeah it is," Matthews nodded, "But that's life, you get disappointed. And when you get disappointed, you can either do something about it, or sit there and continue to be a doormat," he ten turned to her, "So now... I have to put that mare down,"
Eleanor glanced at him in disbelief, "Sir... she's a perfectly good horse, isn't she?" she asked.
"Well, yes. But she's not doing what I needed her to do. And therefore, I have no use for her," he kept his gaze fixed on Eleanor, whatever friendly demeanour he had at the beginning was quickly melting away into something more sinister, "Just like I have no use for you,"
Eleanor swallowed back the growing lump in her throat, "I beg your pardon?"
"I know what you've been up to. You think you're pretty damn smart, don't 'cha'? Hm?" his lips pressed together in a thin line, his greying eyes darkening, "What were you doing in my office the other day? Don't deny it, you were seen,"
Eleanor shook her head, trying to grasp at threads, "I'm sorry Mr. Matthews, I don't know what you're talking about,"
Matthews' grin returned, he glanced back at the cowboys who were none the wiser, "You don't know what I'm talking about..."
Eleanor stood stiff as a board, waiting, anticipating just what he'd say next. However, she didn't anticipate he'd shoot up from his seat and back hand her across her face, her hard brass of his ring indenting just under her eye.
Eleanor stumbled and fell backwards, her butt landing hard on the porch wood. Matthews stood over her, seething with rage.
"You don't know what the fuck I'm talking about!?" he screamed, hands fisted tight, veins bulging in his forehead and his face going red. The commotion grabbed the attention of the cowboys.
Eleanor turned back over, the sting from his knuckle nothing compared to the fear swelling in her chest. He continued to shout down at her, his teeth gnashing and spit flying.
"You think I haven't noticed how my cattle have disappeared since I dun' hired you? You think you're smarter than me, don't you? I've got more thoughts in my little finger then you do in your whole body!" he held up his hand and Eleanor feared her may hit her again, "Say something!"
"I'm sorry!" Eleanor shouted back, though she knew no apologies would soften him none, "I'm very sorry!"
Matthews scoffed, lowering his hand and relaxing his shoulders, "You sorry you let rustlers steal my herd? Or are you sorry you got caught?" his hand then went to his belt holster, and a renewed sense of fear filled her. He wouldn't actually shoot her in front of all these people... would he?
"Benjamin!" he suddenly roared, "Bring me that dull mare!" no, she feared he was going to do something much worse.
Eleanor watched, her heart in her throat as Benjamin lassoed the mare and lead her over to the porch. She was absolutely beautiful, dappled grey with big, soulful eyes and a pristine white face. She met Eleanor's gaze, and from how she shifted from hoof to hoof, it was clear she could sense the rising tension, the fear in the air.
Matthews pulled out his gun and cocked it, checking the barrel for his ammunition.
"Mr. Matthews... please, don't do it," Eleanor begged, tears beginning to well in her eyes.
Matthews hummed to himself, looking back down at the young girl, "You know what I do to people who betray me, Miss Aubert?" he asked.
Eleanor didn't even have time to close her eyes before he raised his gun, and with perfect precision he shot the mare between her eyes. Eleanor couldn't even scream, couldn't bare to look at the blood that splattered on the porch wood, nor the frozen stare on Benjamin's face as the mare fell to the ground, dead.
Matthews stood unfazed, watching Eleanor pitifully. His gun stayed clasped tightly in his hand, "Now you have a choice, young lady," he grumbled, "Either you can get the fuck off my property and I won't call the sheriff, or you can be next, and your body will be weighed down in the lake,"
Eleanor had to compose herself. On shaky legs, she pushed herself back to her feet, stumbling a few times as she walked off the porch. She looked back only at the poor horse, her heart breaking all over again at the sight of the lifeless mare. Taking a deep breath, she turned her back on the scene and started walking, each step feeling heavier than the last.
The air was eerily silent now, the brutal act hanging in the air like a suffocating fog. Matthews stood behind her, unfazed, his gun still in hand. Eleanor walked fast, fearing he may have second thoughts about using that gun on her. And fuck -- her eye hurt really bad.
She didn't know what she would say to Jesse, could just imagine how pissed off he would be when he'd learn she'd been fired. Maybe he wouldn't have any use for her, maybe he'd kick her out to fend for herself. As much of a bitch she knew he was, Eleanor knew that she still needed Jesse as much as he needed her.
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While Eleanor grappled with her own struggles, Billy was trying to start anew. He had no family, no friends to rely on—just a horse he’d stolen, some meager provisions, and the hope that strangers might show him some kindness. But those strangers often proved to be more detrimental than helpful.
Billy fell in with a career felon and con man. Sure, the man helped him get an honest job as a rancher, but trusting him only led to more trouble. Billy lost his job when the felon fatally shot the rancher. Then, accused of stealing horses by a blacksmith (which, to be fair, he did, but no one else needed to know), Billy found himself in deeper trouble. In the chaos, he fatally shot the blacksmith.
Billy had never killed anyone before, never thought he’d have the guts. The closest he came was with his own stepfather, but that was different—he only wanted to scare him. The gun just… went off. Now, as he sat by a dwindling fire, the weight of his actions pressed down on him. He was in too deep, too far gone to find an easy way out. The life he’d hoped to build seemed more distant with each passing day, leaving him to wonder if he’d ever escape the shadows of his past.
He knew what his mother would say. As much as he wanted to forget it all and move on, he was still a good person. And as a good person, he knew he had to do the right thing.
He showed up in the aforementioned town, ready to face the court and plead his case for self-defense. But just like in Silver City, he quickly learned that the court system here wasn't interested in his side of the story, in how he tried to save himself. The wanted posters with his face plastered all over them certainly didn’t help his case.
But if there was one good thing Billy had going for him, it was his charm, and his brain. And sure enough he was able to escape jail again, disappearing just like before.
He was without a horse, having him and his belongings stolen by the Apache. So Billy was left to wander the frontier, a ghost, a nobody that one would blink and miss in the distance. He missed his old life, his mom, his brother, the friends he'd made and had to leave behind. He wondered if those friends thought about him, if Jesse or Eleanor cared to think about him.
Eleanor, so headstrong, sharp-tongued, beautiful in every way, shape, and form. She was a constant presence in his mind as he wandered the vast terrain. The heat and dehydration often played tricks on him—he’d see her in the weeds, in the wind, thought he caught her oaky hair fluttering in the breeze, could hear the lilt of her accent echoing in his ears. He missed her, missed her more than he could comprehend. He swore if he found his way out of this desert, he'd go out and find her, swore to himself he'd take good care of her. Better than any care Jesse could offer.
Billy’s exhaustion finally overtook him, and he collapsed onto the dry, cracked earth. The world blurred around him as his consciousness flickered. He drifted in and out, each time catching glimpses of rough hands lifting him, concerned eyes peering down over bandanas. He felt the cool touch of water on his parched lips, the gentle jostle of being hoisted onto a horse. Between bouts of darkness, he heard snippets of a soothing voice, the soft drawl of reassurance, promising that he was safe. As he slipped back into unconsciousness, Billy clung to the faint hope that rescue had come at last.
He dreamed a lot—or at least he thought so. He couldn't distinguish between dreams and memories: his mother's suffering, Carlos' murder, arrest after arrest, all swirling together. Amidst the chaos, there was a distant voice calling for him, so kind, so familiar, drawing him up under an ocean of limbo.
"Billy? Billy, can you hear me?" he could feel a blanket on him, a pillow under his head, his lungs begging for water.
"What?" and when he cracked his eyes open he was blinded by sunlight, only relieved by Eleanor's concerned face.
He thought he was still dreaming, but as he looked around, his vision hazy and his head pounding, he saw he wasn't in the desert anymore. He was in a bed, a water pitcher on the table next to him, and Eleanor standing over him.
"Oh, thank God," he heard her sigh, "You had me worried something terrible for a spell," her voice was a tone just above a whisper, her choppy bangs hanging over her eyes, Billy could swear one was a darker color than the other. Or maybe his eyes were still just playing tricks on him.
"E-Eleanor," he coughed and sputtered, his chest burning with every jolt. Eleanor moved fast to pour him some water, cradling his head so he could sit up.
"It's alright, drink," he brought the glass to his lips and he drank gratefully. The cool water filled his mouth, overwhelmed his throat, it was a sweet and crisp relief.
He breathed heavily as he settled back in bed, his lips felt dry and crackled, he felt dusty and dirty all over, but he had so many questions.
"Where am I?" he gasped, "How did I get here? Why are you here?"
"You're in New Mexico, the boys found you out in the desert. I'm gonna' get you better, though," she took a cloth and dabbed the sweat from his forehead, hoping her face didn't give way to how scared she was for him. He looked so weak, like he'd blow away in grains of sand at the slightest gust of wind.
Billy had so many questions, but despite them all his eyes felt heavy, his body felt limp. He could barely string out enough words.
"Eleanor... I'm tired," he mumbled.
A small smile graced her lips, "Then sleep," she told him, "Just holler for anything,"
She watched his eyes fall closed, readjusting under the blanket and falling back asleep. Relief flooded over her, there was a period where she feared he was too far gone to be alive. God only knew how long he'd been out in the elements, anything could have happened to him out there.
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Billy had slept more in the last two days than he had in months, and when he wasn't sleeping Eleanor took care of him. He was grateful to her, a part of him still thought he might have been dreaming but she was really here, giving him water, making him food, keeping him company when he was conscious enough to make some conversation. He still had so many questions, one in particular was how Eleanor wound up with a black eye.
It was the first day Billy felt strong enough to get out of bed and walk around. He sat on the back porch, a blanket over his shoulders and a warm mug of tea in his hands, looking out to the vast farmland before him. Eleanor came out to join him, her hair pulled up in a ponytail and flour stains on her trousers. Her wound was fading too, but she still didn't feel comfortable enough going out in public like this lest someone ask her questions.
"So, this is Lincoln County," Billy said, watching her from the corner of his eye. She was leaning against the post, arms folded over her chest and looking out.
"Yep, home sweet home," she replied.
"And this is where you've been living outside the hotel?" he asked.
"Pretty much," she turned to face him, "It don't belong to anybody, we just found it abandoned. Figured -- why not?"
"... And 'we' would be... Jesse?" he asked.
"And the Seven Rivers Gang," Eleanor confirmed, throwing her hands to her sides, "Welcome to our secret lair,"
Billy nodded, "Thank you," he simpered, "I don't remember much. The trail, the coyotes, then my horse got stolen,"
Eleanor pulled up a chair beside him, "When the boys found you, you were laid out and left to die. Scavengers would'a been on you by night, prolly'. Jesse brung ya' here, and I swear I thought you were dead for sure," she explained, "You been busy, though,"
"How do you mean?" he asked.
"There are wanted posters for ya all over the state," she replied, "They don't do you justice, in my opinion,"
"Oh, why thank you," he said.
"There's something different about you, though," she noted, cocking her head at him, "You look... stressed. And not just from the sun. Something happened while you were gone, didn't it?"
Billy inhaled deeply, a pit of dismay forming in his gut. He wasn’t sure how Eleanor would react, if she’d ever look at him the same way after he told her about the blacksmith. But she was all he had right now. Surely, if she knew the whole story, she would understand.
"I killed a man, Eleanor," he admitted, taking his gaze away from her, "I didn't mean to, it just kinda... happened,"
Eleanor was waiting for a punch line, thinking that maybe he was just pulling her leg. But no, his worn expression, the lowering pitch in his tone, he had been through a lot in the months he'd been gone. Despite his guilt and sorrow, Eleanor knew Billy. She knew he wasn't a murderer.
"Did he have it coming?" she asked.
Billy shrugged listlessly, "He wouldn't leave me alone. Attacked me in front of everybody. He got my gun, we wrestled for it, but... I didn't want him to die,"
Eleanor nodded slowly. She reached out, gently touching him on his shoulder, "That sounds like self-defence to me. Was it?"
"Of course it was,"
"Then don't beat yourself up over it. Good people do bad things Billy, but that don't mean they're bad," she told him, "We all gotta' do what we gotta' do,"
Billy nodded, and while he was still remorseful, he was grateful that Eleanor didn't judge him. He was grateful for her all around.
"Suppose you're right," he mumbled, he then raised his finger up to his eye, "What happened here?"
She simpered sheepishly, pulling some of her hair over the left side of her face, trying to hide the yellowy-purple bruise, "Oh. Well, long story short is I no longer work for Matthews," she replied.
Billy's concern grew, "Did Jesse do that?" he asked.
"No. Matthews. He found out I was selling out his cattle, aaaaand... he didn't like that. Just to drive the point home, he killed a horse in front of me. A barren mare. I swore for a moment he was gonna' do me in the same," she explained, keeping her eyes averted to the wooden planks beneath them.
"Jesus," Billy sat up in his chair, taking a better look at her face. The bruise was a couple weeks healed up, the indent of Matthews' ring was still present on her cheek bone. He couldn't help but reach over and stroke the bruise, her skin so soft and smooth under his calloused thumb, "How'd Jesse take it?"
"He was angry that Matthews hit me more than anything," she replied, "We agreed I should stay here for a while until we pick up again, better to keep out of town,"
Billy's heart broke for her. Eleanor had always been the fiercest, most resilient person he knew. She worked too damn hard to be thanked with a black eye, to end up in an old, decrepit house in the middle of nowhere. Anger surged through him, mixing with his sadness, as he thought of Billy Matthews laying a hand on her. She deserved so much more—more than this desolate existence, more than the pain and struggle she faced every day.
He shook his head, "Swear to God, if I ever see that man --"
"You're not gonna' do shit," she told him, "Not until you're healed at least," her lips pulled up in a smirk, that same mischievous, sharp smirk Eleanor had that accentuated her personality. It was a small gesture, but it made Billy feel a little better.
Billy too began to smile, "I missed you, ya know?"
Eleanor relaxed in her seat, her smile growing, "I missed you, too. I'm... I'm really glad to see you,"
Billy knew it would be a while before he was back to a hundred percent. His lips were still cracked, and his throat felt raw. He realized he'd be spending quite some time here, recovering. The only question at the forefront of his mind was how long he'd have Eleanor all to himself during this stretch of time.
"How long as the boys gone for?" he asked.
"About a week," she replied, "You're stuck with me until then,"
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Eleanor and Billy fell into an easy rhythm over the next few days, their interactions flowing with a natural comfort that belied the short time they'd known each other. Despite Eleanor's insistence that he should take it easy, Billy, still on the mend from his bout of heatstroke, was eager to lend a hand around the farm.
One morning, Eleanor found Billy in the kitchen, fumbling with a frying pan and a carton of eggs. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and she couldn't help but laugh at his earnestness. His limited culinary skills were evident, but there was something undeniably charming about his determination. As they cooked breakfast together, their laughter filled the room, mingling with the aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon.
After breakfast, they wandered through the fields, the farm bathed in the golden light of late spring. Eleanor led Billy to her favorite hidden corners, where wildflowers painted the landscape and the old oak tree offered a sanctuary from the heat. As they walked, their conversation flowed effortlessly, their stories weaving a tapestry of shared experiences. Billy's voice softened as he spoke about less sinister things he'd been up to, exploring towns, the people he'd met along the way. Eleanor listened, captivated not just by his words but by the way his eyes sparkled with passion.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in hues of pink and orange, they sat on a hill overlooking the farm. The air was thick with the scent of earth and blooming flowers. Billy glanced at Eleanor, his eyes lingering a moment longer than usual. She felt a flutter in her chest, a warmth spreading through her as his gaze traveled over her face, settling on her lips for a heartbeat before looking away.
That evening, they found themselves by the fire, the flames casting a soft glow on their faces. Eleanor couldn't shake the feeling that something between them had shifted. The space between them felt charged, the air thick with unspoken words and budding attraction. She was drawn to Billy in a way she hadn't expected, her feelings teetering on the edge of friendship and something undeniably more.
With each passing day, Eleanor and Billy grew closer, their bond deepening in ways that felt both thrilling and terrifying. As they sat under the starlit sky, the world around them fading into the background, Billy couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of something new, something beautiful. Eleanor's hand brushed against him, and the spark that ignited was impossible to ignore. He looked at her, and in that moment, he knew—this was more than friendship. This was the start of something that could change everything for them.
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Billy and Eleanor were sitting by the fire as night fell over them. Billy's eyes wandered around the cozy farmhouse, finally landing on an old guitar propped up in the corner of the living room, dusty, worn down, but it still looked to be in good condition.
"Whose guitar is that?" Billy asked, nodding towards it.
Eleanor followed his gaze, a soft smile curling her lips, "It belongs to John, one of Jesse's guys. He plays it sometimes, but mostly it just sits there collecting dust,"
Billy's eyes sparkled with interest, "Do you play?"
"Sometimes," she admitted, a hint of nostalgia in her voice, "I don't know many songs,"
Billy leaned forward, his gaze intense but gentle, "Will you play something for me?"
Eleanor hesitated, her fingers instinctively twitching. She hadn't played for anyone in a long time, but there was something in Billy's eyes that made her want to share that part of herself with him.
"Okay," she said softly, standing up and fetching the guitar. She settled back down next to Billy, her fingers caressed the worn strings, a reverent touch as she tuned it.
"What do you want to hear?" she asked, glancing up at him.
"Anything," Billy said, "Anything you feel like,"
Eleanor took a deep breath, the cool evening air filling her lungs. She began to strum, her fingers moving with a familiarity that brought the guitar to life. The melody was simple, an old song her mother used to sing for her about a woman who was wrongly accused of murder. Not the most appropriate song for a child, but it resonated with Eleanor. As she played, she started to sing, her voice soft and haunting in the twilight.
Billy watched her, mesmerized. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the music and the gentle cadence of Eleanor's voice. He couldn't help but feel a deep sense of connection, the story she was telling so beautiful, so tragic.
When the last note faded, Eleanor looked up, her eyes meeting Billy's. There was a silence that spoke volumes, a shared understanding that words could never capture.
"Thank you," Billy said quietly, his voice full of emotion. "That was beautiful,"
Eleanor smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly, "I'm glad you liked it,"
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spideyhexx · 17 days
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speaking of sucking dick… boss’ daughter who will get on her knees as often as she can and billy feels like he should tell her no but she loves it just as much as he does
yes
mdni; fem!reader
Billy becomes very aware of how much you love to be on your knees for him and he does truly love it, but he also is like, "sweetheart, let me please you first this time. Please?" And he's trying to tug you up off your knees, but you give him a look that screams how much you're desiring the feeling of him on your tongue, so he relents.
Billy fakes a pout as you undo his belt and he messes with your hair or pinches your cheek in a playful manner, "alright, but 'm puttin' my mouth you know where after this, don't act like you don't like it when I do it," and he's got a cheeky smile when you laugh because he can't keep his pout for long after hearing that sound.
and and and
on another scenario where you sneak out to a barn to be with Billy sometimes, because it's the last place your father would suspect. And Billy never wants you kneeling on the wooden floor so he always puts whatever jacket he's got on the ground so you can kneel on it.
He always offers to sit down or lay back, but you love it when he's standing and you can actually be kneeling. Billy usually can lean against the wall for support and have his hand in your hair and on your face, but there's moments where you're so impatient, you get his dick in your mouth before he can lean on anything for support.
Billy can just be in the middle of the barn, grasping at the sides of your face as you suck on his cock like you need it, not caring how sloppy you get with it because you just want to make him feel cum. "Oh....oh my fuckin'...honey let me...let's move...," he starts to get out, but you're already getting his dick to touch the back of your throat, your fingers digging into his thighs.
When you moan against him, he stops your movements and that's when Billy fucks your mouth instead. When he's not leaning against anything and knows his girl is desperate, he gives in to that rougher urge and uses your mouth like you love, like he loves. "Is that good? You drool all over it, fuck, you love it. I love you," he breathes out in between his strained moans because he still has a sense of mind to be quiet. And Billy would never fuck your mouth without praising the hell out of you.
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ebsmind · 4 months
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 ❀ part 1 tom blyth x actress!reader
summary : reader and tom fall in love during the filming of tbosas
warning(s) : none!
fc : sabrina carpenter
a/n : thank you so much for the request!! i loved putting this all together 💗 also making this a mini series 😋
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ynuser future first lady of panem ❤️ TBOSAS out in theaters on november 17th 🫶
tagged : @/thehungergames, @/tomblyth, @/ashleyjliao
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ashleyjliao i love you!
↳ ynuser i love you more!
rachelzegler the best dressed on reaping day
❤️ by creator
thehungergames OUR livia cardew
user1 u were MADE for this role
user2 can’t wait to see you in theaters bae 😋
user3 her and rachel in a movie??? YES MA’AM
user4 THE CIGARETTE 😭😭
tomblyth my wife
↳ ynuser my husband ❤️
user5 stop they’re so cute
user6 if only snow actually loved livia 😭
↳ ynuser real
↳ user6 PLSSS
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ynupdates y/n carpenter has been seen around paris with her costar tom blyth! are they just friends or is there something more to the story?
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user1 as long as she’s happy tbh
user2 they’re so cute together i hope so
user3 no!! he’s mine jkjk
user4 she looks so happy
user5 i can just tell he’s smiling at her
user6 i think rachel is with them no?
tomblyth just posted on their story!
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ynuser paris!
view comments
rachelzegler where’s my pic creds ☹️
↳ ynuser i’m sorry ily
user1 she’s so pretty bro
user2 girl we know that’s tom in the second pic….
user3 i love how her rachel and tom are in paris together like bestie goals
user4 living that livia cardew lifestyle fr
user5 idk what tom sees in you tbh
↳ user6 GIRL WHAT????
tomblyth best hot chocolate with the best girl
❤️ by creator
↳ user7 SHUT UP OMGGGGG
user8 they are so dating omg
ashleyjliao bestie trip slay
❤️ by creator
366 notes · View notes
happy74827 · 2 months
Text
He’s Got The Fire
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[Johnny Lawrence x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: To your surprise, Johnny shows up at your window unannounced, but it doesn’t take long to realize it’s not for kicks {GIF Creds: pilvimarja}.
WC: 2076
Category: Slight Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff
Honestly, I’m surprised I haven’t started writing this franchise earlier given how it’s about equal with my love for BTTF
『••✎••』
The sun had already gone down a while ago, the air was crisp, and the sky was starry. It was the perfect evening to watch the moon rise. The wind carried a chill, and the trees were almost bare, swaying in the breeze.
With a sigh, you closed the book you had been reading and stretched your legs, looking out the window of your room. By now, everyone had been asleep for a few hours, and you worked on upcoming assignments to pass the time. But when you had gotten to your last one, you just couldn't be bothered anymore, so you set it aside.
The quietness was nice, and the light from the moon cast a blue-ish glow on everything around you. You were so calm, but there was still something that had you feeling off.
Johnny.
He was never around much lately. It wasn't surprising, but it was disheartening. Ever since that championship loss a while back, he had been training even harder, and when he wasn't training, he was out doing god-knows-what.
You understood how important Cobra Kai was to him, but the fact that he was putting everything else on the back burner really had you worried. He had a tendency to go down the wrong path and not think about the consequences until after the fact. You hoped that wasn't what was happening this time.
Pulling your knees up, you rested your head on them and looked out at the night. There was a full moon, and you wondered if Johnny had noticed. He used to love taking walks at night just to see the moon and look up at the stars.
He had changed so much since then. That fire inside of him burned so brightly that sometimes you wondered if it would burn him, too.
Sitting like that for a while, you lost track of time. It was easy to get distracted and drift away from reality when your mind wandered. It was something you were trying to work on, and you were actually doing pretty well.
Until you heard a pang on your window.
Sitting up, you looked around, wondering if a bird had flown into it, but you saw nothing. Your mind immediately went to a branch falling or something like that, and you were ready to dismiss the strange noise and go back to daydreaming.
But the pang came again, and your heart leaped in your throat. You stood and cautiously moved toward the window. At the same time, a face popped up from below, and you shrieked.
He motioned for you to open the window, along with attempts to hush you. It was a very frantic gesture, and you felt your heart rate rise. You quickly opened the window and stuck your head out.
"Johnny?!" You whispered-yelled, and he was pulling himself up. "What are you doing?"
"Shhh!" He held a finger to his lips and looked behind him, and your eyebrows furrowed.
"Johnny-"
"Do you want the whole neighborhood to know I'm here? Let me in!"
You stared at him for a moment longer before helping him through the window. It didn’t go as smoothly as one would expect, like the movies, but he managed to tumble in. You stood there, arms folded, as he dusted himself off.
You haven’t seen him in so long, and the day you choose to miss him, he shows up out of nowhere. You would’ve called yourself psychic if it weren’t for the fact that Johnny always did the unexpected.
He looked… good, to say the least. The red jacket still fit him perfectly; his blonde hair was combed and fluffy, and his eyes were still focused and alert, even if his body language seemed a little sluggish.
To be honest, Johnny was the most beautiful person you had ever laid eyes on. His sharp jawline, his toned muscles, and that cocky smile of his. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed and the way he always looked at you like you were the only girl in the world.
For a while, you didn’t understand why he chose to pursue you, of all people. He could have anyone he wanted. You weren't exactly a social butterfly, and you always got nervous and shy in the presence of others.
Johnny was the opposite of you. He was outgoing, and his charisma attracted everyone to him. And the way his voice was so smooth and deep. He could be the most annoying person on the planet, but when he said your name, you would melt.
So when he asked you out, you thought it was some sort of joke. I mean, he was the hottest guy in school. And you were just… you.
But then you realized there was more to him than just the bad boy exterior. He had a sensitive side, and his vulnerability was endearing. His family was… well, a lot. His mom was nice, but she had her fair share of issues, and his stepfather was a piece of work.
It only took one date to realize the Johnny you were accustomed to wasn’t the real him. The real him was like you… except he could kick ass and had some pent-up anger issues.
And yet, here you were.
"Johnny-" You began, but he stepped toward you and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You stood stiffly, arms at your sides.
"God, I've missed you."
That was the last thing you expected him to say. You felt your face heat up, your chest warm up, and your shoulders slumped. You melted into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him.
"I've missed you too."
You could feel him grin against the top of your head, and he squeezed you a little tighter. He was so warm, and it made you forget the fact that he was literally climbing through your window at almost midnight.
After a minute or so, he pulled away and held your face in his hands. You were looking into those piercing blue eyes, and you could feel butterflies in your stomach.
"Why are you here?" You asked, your voice a little above a whisper.
He hesitated, and that was the moment you knew something was wrong. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"I, uh… I needed to see you."
You raised an eyebrow, but you didn't say anything. You were waiting for him to elaborate, but when he didn't, you sighed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the bed. You sat on the edge, and he followed.
"Johnny," You said, turning toward him and placing a hand on his knee. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
"Nothing, I just… wanted to see you."
You didn't say anything. You knew better than that. So you waited.
"Okay, okay," He sighed. "Look, I'm not gonna lie to you, but I can’t tell you why."
"That's reassuring."
"It's just… things are… well, I just needed to get away. It's nothing, I'm fine, don't worry."
You were silent. You didn't really know what to say. There was so much going on, and it was hard for you to believe him when he told you not to worry.
"Is it… Is it Sid? Your mom?"
"Just…” He shook his head and stood, rubbing the back of his neck. He started pacing, and that was when you knew he was really upset. “Just drop it, alright? Everything's fine."
“You ignored me for the past two weeks, Johnny. Something is wrong."
He stopped and glared at you, and you froze. You were taken aback by the expression on his face. He seemed frustrated and almost angry.
The look… you knew it wasn’t directed at you, but you couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. He was always so hot-headed and stubborn, and when his mood shifted, you had a hard time knowing what to do.
He seemed to realize his expression and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh.
"Sorry, God, I'm sorry, it's not you. I'm just-" He sighed and plopped back down on the bed next to you, running his hands over his face. "I'm a fucking mess, okay? Just forget I came."
It was weird how, in certain situations, you could completely shift into a different person. You’ve seen it in movies and TV, and it was a cliche. You didn’t think it would ever happen to you.
And yet, the second you heard the words come out of his mouth, you were hit with an overwhelming urge to turn his head towards yours, grab his face in your hands, and kiss him.
So you did.
You couldn’t really tell him why you did it. It just felt like the right thing to do, and it was an impulse. You figured it was the best way to let him know that you were here and he wasn’t alone.
The second your lips met, he was leaning into you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer. You could feel the passion and desperation behind the kiss, and it took you a moment to match his energy.
He was rough and intense, and he pulled away after a few moments, moving to your neck. You gasped and gripped the collar of his jacket, feeling the heat of his lips on your skin.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say. And it was true. You had missed him more than you had thought. You had almost forgotten how much of a force he was to be reckoned with.
You let out a shaky breath, trying to form words, but failing. Instead, you tugged on his jacket and pulled him towards you, hoping he would get the message.
And he did.
His lips found yours again, and he was pushing you back, holding himself above you with one hand. His other was moving up your shirt, his fingers grazing your stomach, causing goosebumps to rise.
Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers danced across your ribs. His lips were rough, but they moved with such grace and delicacy it was hard to keep up.
He pulled away for a moment, and you looked up at him, catching your breath. His blonde hair was messy, and his eyes were a little hooded. He looked like a mess, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.
You reached up and brushed his hair back, giving him a soft smile.
“Is that…” His eyes peered away from you, and you raised an eyebrow. "Do you still have that damn elephant?"
Your eyes followed his, and you spotted the elephant in question. It was a gift Johnny had given you back when things were different. Come to think of it, you weren’t even sure you were together at that point.
"Why wouldn't I?" You asked, and he chuckled. “Ozzy's special."
"You named it? What are you, ten?"
You swatted his arm, and he laughed again. His eyes found yours, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. It felt like old times.
"Don't make fun of him. You gave him to me."
"Yeah, whatever," He rolled his eyes, but his smile remained. "Can't believe you kept him."
"I keep a lot of stuff, Johnny. Especially when they're meaningful."
He was silent for a moment, his eyes still focused on you. The moonlight was shining through the window and casting a shadow on his face.
"I keep a lot of things, too."
Before you could say anything, he was leaning down and kissing you again. You could tell this one was different, more meaningful, like he was pouring his heart and soul into the kiss.
And he was.
He wanted you to know how he felt about you without actually saying it. And although you weren’t really sure what was going on, you had a feeling this was what it was.
The fire inside of him was burning again, but finally, after so long, he realized that he needed to take a breather every now and then. Add some water to the flames.
It was a delicate balance. And although he may be bad at showing his feelings, talking about them, or acknowledging them, you were there to make sure he didn't lose himself in the heat.
And maybe, just maybe, the flame was a little more subdued, and the burn a little less harsh.
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ghostlyloversworld · 4 months
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»»————> 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲<————««
𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡 𝐱 𝘾𝙤���𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙭'𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜-
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-𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠- 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭
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We can go drivin' in, on my scooter Uh, you know, just riding in London Alright.
As she scrolls through her Instagram feed one thing stands out it was a news article she reads it -actress y/n Cox spotted in London with Actor Tom blyth.
She laughs before pressing on the news article. Curious to see what it had to say.
I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey But something happened, I heard him laughing I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent They say home is where the heart is But that's not where mine lives.
She reads it. Actor Tom blyth and Actress Y/n Cox had been spotted at Trafalgar square. It had been reported both were holding hands and being a little more then friendly with each other. Could this be the next it couple?.. Only time will tell. She clicks off and goes to the comments of the news article
You know I love a London boy I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon He likes my American smile Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates So I guess all the rumors are true You know I love a London boy Boy, I fancy you (ooh).
Catlover- even if they are dating we should give them their privacy.
Tombylyth'sgirl- stopp because Tom and Y/n's song have to be Dreaming of you by Selena quintanilla
↪️y/n'schild- stop because Selena quintanilla didn't deserve to die.
honeylove- honesty y/n isn't even cute
↪️ theonlyY/ncox- cool I'm definitely not going cry in the bathtub 😐
↪️ starsthebest- the sarcasm is loudd.
↪️ theonlyY/ncox- thanks I got it from you're dad 👍
And now I love high tea, stories from uni, and the West End You can find me in the pub, we are watching rugby with his school friends Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride Babe, don't threaten me with a good time They say home is where the heart is But God, I love the English.
Tomblyth- shh 🤫 no one needs to know
↪️ doglover- what do you mean Tom?
↪️ theonlyY/ncox- Tom no 😐
↪️ Tom blyth- yes Tom
Eleanor laughs at the way her and Tom go back and forth on the internet. Maybe that's why everyone thinks they are together. She finally posted again
-TheonlyY/ncox
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- Happy birthday my bbg @RachaelZegleristhebest
RachaelZegleristhebest- thank you love :)
↪️- theonlyY/ncox- you're welcome
You know I love a London boy I enjoy nights in Brixton, Shoreditch in the afternoon He likes my American smile Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates So I guess all the rumors are true You know I love a London boy Boy, I fancy you.
So please show me Hackney Doesn't have to be Louis V up on Bond Street Just wanna be with you Wanna be with you Stick with me, I'm your queen Like a Tennessee Stella McCartney on the Heath Just wanna be with you (wanna be with you) Wanna be with you (oh)
Y/n was laying in her bed. She looks down at her necklace 'Tb' it had been Tom's initials. Her and Tom had been together for 3 years now. She was very happy with Tom. The more she thinks about it. Tomorrow was their 4 year of dating
theonlyY/ncox
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- love a British boy @Tombylth
User98- oh my goodness! They were dating
↪️theonlyY/ncox- yeah ik that
↪️doglover- her freaking sarcastic is always back out to get everyone
Tombylth- love you more
↪️theonlyY/ncox- nah I love you more :)
So please show me Hackney Doesn't have to be Louis V up on Bond Street Just wanna be with you I, I, I fancy you, oh Stick with me, I'm your queen Like a Tennessee Stella McCartney on the Heath Just wanna be with you (ooh) Wanna be with you I fancy you (yeah), fancy you Oh, ah
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hearts4blyth · 3 months
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୨ৎ blog guide ! ୨ৎ
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♡︎ me !!
bella — she / hers — hispanic
info ୨ৎ
♡ write for the hunger games, coriolanus snow, trying to work on other characters, and billy the kid (tom blyth)
︎♡︎ basic dni — racist, homophobia, sexist, you get the idea
i’ll try to be working on the gramar for some mistakes in my writing ! corrections will be appreciated
♡︎ blog will include nsfw / smut material so be aware , dni if uncomfortable, block or scroll
•DO NOT COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORKS•
open for requests, depending on how it is i’ll either do it or not but keep in mind if i haven’t done yours yet, im probably working on something else ! so please be patient
master lists ! ୨ৎ
coriolanus snow
• coriolanus x ballet reader 🩰
• peacekeeper! having a picnic
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geminibsworld · 5 months
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keep sending in asks i have fun with them and post some more today <3
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1867aubs · 1 year
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The bartender down the street (part 1)
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She was walking down the street to the bar hoping that the little boy and girl who came by every Thursday and Friday with their babysitter would be there today . Their names are Lisa and frank Jr castle . To be honest they are the only people who give me hope anymore. Lisa and frank Jr come by so frequently that I gave them a personalized menu that consists of apple juice , fruit snacks , mostly kid things . They talk about their dad and uncle billy and uncle matt every day when they come to the bar , but I've never met them .
One day thought Lisa and frank junior with a man in red glasses , a black hair man in a suit and a brunette in a brown jacket . Lisa and frank Jr run up to me . Lisa does a full on launch while Frank Jr grabs my legs and holds on tight like I'm about to leave him . I would never leave those kids there technically still my reason for living . The three men looked shocked at how close I was with the kids . Frank recovered from his shock and said " you are ?" the question lingering on his tongue . I said " oh sorry I always forget to introduce my self Im r/n nice to meet you .
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atrwriting · 6 months
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trust me -- billy the kid x barowner!reader
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hi everyone :) sorry I've been MIA — law school has been kicking my #ass but it's ok. I saw the new thg movie and while IAMNOTACORIOSNOWSTAN but I am a t*m bl*th and the man was so fine in this show. so fine. I've only seen like three fics for this man (maybe I just don't know how to search correctly thats probably my fault) but I was SEARCHING FOREVER and then I just got pissed because I couldn't find any so I wrote almost eight thousand words for this man that is how down bad I was
informal warnings: me. 1) I should be put on a leash 2) I use italics way too much 3) and whatever the fuck this "—" is 4) will i ever give up the female bar owner trope 5) will I ever stop tho? [vanilla ice voice] no, I don't know
as always, the actual warnings: smutty smut smut SMUT!, unprotected sex (1880's bby but you still gotta wrap it before you tap it), violence, guns, bit of gore but like the tiniest bit, virgin!reader, p in v sex, oral sex, bit of a dom!billy, bit of a bratty!sub!reader, overstimulation what can I say I should be put on a leash
anyway.... here's trust me:
when your father died… it was hard to be sad. he wasn’t very kind and he never seemed to like you very much… but in his will, being his only surviving kin, he left you money.
a lot of it.
and an old building.
the town it resided in was convenient in the way that many people that were passing through had to stop there. so what did you do? well, the only thing you could do — turn it into a restaurant and boarding house.
the money he left behind was used to fix up the place and pay your employees.
within a few weeks time, your place was up and running with very little vacancy. families and important people were always in your bar or comfortably in their rooms. never had you ever thought someone could be as lucky as you.
until one day. that day.
you worked alongside your employees but flipped between positions. sometimes you were a hostess, ran the front desk, a bartender, or anything else that needed tending to. in response, many people did not know you were the owner — and, therefore, some people treated you like you weren’t.
mainly gross old men, which you could handle. however, when a young, strong, and tall man challenged you?
that was dangerous. too dangerous.
even a fake wedding ring didn’t steer them away.
on that day, a young blacksmith had found his way into your bar. he was handsy with you much of the night, and you tried your best to steer him away. it wasn’t until you pulled a knife on him that he finally let up. it didn’t look like anyone saw, but still — you were scared and worried. would people think you classless, for pulling a knife on a patron? would they see you as weak? would they notice that the alcohol you served brought in too rowdy of a crowd? would they stop venturing in?
you thought no one noticed, and tried to convince yourself of that fact — but you were wrong.
when you were closing for the night, mostly everyone had left. a small group of men usually stayed until close — and you didn’t mind. they drank well, paid their tab, and were mostly quiet and polite. you didn’t know any of their names — but it was usually bad when you did know a patron’s name, so you liked them.
you had your back turned to the front of the bar, stacking bottles, when someone cleared their throat from behind you.
“ma’am?”
you turned around.
a tall, fair skinned man with a hat stood before you. his clothes were old and worn, and his fingernails reflected that he was a hard worker during the day. that type of exhaustion was also reflected in his eyes.
but, damn... his face? no one could deny that that man was handsome.
you smiled. “another drink, sir?”
“no. thank you.” he paused for a moment, keeping your gaze. “i wanted to check if you were alright.”
you immediately knew what he was talking about, but kept your face stoic. “yes, sir, thank you.”
he looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled with how to word it. “he usually a problem?”
you clenched your jaw. “he’s… he’s fine. too much drink, ‘s’all. gets the best of working men. can’t blame ‘em.” you swallowed, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. who was this man and why did he care? was he a friend of the man? “you sure there’s nothing i can’t get for you?”
“some wouldn't blame ‘em.” he ignored your question. his bright blue eyes held your gaze. “i would.”
you forced a tight lipped smile. with a laugh, you joked, “i’ll… be fine, sir. thank you. thought a fake wedding ring would do the trick… gotta think of something else now.”
he smiled, but in a sad way. “i was going to ask if your husband ever checked in on the place.”
“no husband,” you affirmed with a sigh. you introduced yourself, and then asked, “what’s your name?”
“william h. bonney, ma’am… but you can call me billy.”
“nice to meet you, billy,” you smiled. “and, please — don’t call me ma’am.”
“alright.” he returned your smile. “the men behind me… we run a sort of — security detail for part time work. if you ever wanted to hire us, we could have a man here when we can spare.”
you nodded, contemplating your offer. he explained the per diem, and you immediately agreed.
“if your man can keep this place safe with little bloodshed, i’ll even throw in a free bottle a day,” you countered.
and that was how your business with billy the kid and his men began.
the men that came along were usually polite and quiet, and mostly stayed at the edge of the bar. they watched for problems, and slowly but surely your fear had begun to subside. there was a minor scuffle one day, where a man had cracked a glass and cut you with it… but billy’s man had stopped him before he could do anything else. you didn’t hold it against billy’s guy — you cared about your business and if the business got bloody, not so much yourself.
billy, on the other hand… did not agree.
one day, bright and early, he parked himself at the middle of the bar where you stood behind the counter.
“rarely see you for detail,” you smiled, wiping down a glass. “much less this early. breakfast, mr. bonney?”
“billy, ma’am,” he responded. “breakfast does sound fine.”
you laughed. “i hate when you call me ma’am.”
“don’t much like it when you call me mister,” he quirked an eyebrow. billy was a rather emotionless and hard man, but you could tell he was joking.
you laughed again. “steak and eggs for billy, coming right up.”
the rest of the day went on peacefully, and you kept billy’s glass full. he was quiet and didn’t talk much, which you weren’t too keen about. he was mysterious, tall, dark and handsome — which was usually a bad combination. you knew it was, and you should’ve cared — but you didn’t.
as you were filling billy’s glass into the later hours of the afternoon, you finally bucked up the courage to ask him a question.
“so why did you stop in today?” you asked. “not that i mind. i just have only seen you when you come in at night.”
“we made a deal, sweetheart,” he responded. your eyes perked up at the nickname. you didn’t hate the nickname — but you hated yourself a wee bit for how much you liked hearing billy call you it. “the man i sent here was supposed to make sure he kept you from harm — he didn’t hold up his end on the deal.”
“it was kept quiet from the other patrons,” you responded. “that’s all i really care about. i’m a woman in the restaurant and boardinghouse business — stuff like that is bound to happen. no need to be hard on him.”
“you keep my men’s glasses too full for them to let slip ups like that happen,” he replied. “he knew better. should've acted better.”
“you’re the boss, billy,” you sighed with a smile. “i’m just the bartender.”
“damn good bartender at that,” he spoke. “too good.”
you giggled, and grew ashamed rather quickly at how much you enjoyed his company. you didn’t know him well, no… but damn, was it nice to have him around.
the rest of the night was rather quiet. a few families had stepped in and out, and a few meetings were being held where the tables sat. that was until the blacksmith that started this whole thing came in and sat himself only a stool away from billy.
you threw a look at billy, but he didn’t meet your eyes. his peripheral vision was already on the man. billy remembered him, and you couldn’t say fondly.
“whiskey, sweetheart,” he grunted. “leave the bottle.”
you sighed. a quiet day was going to turn into a rough night in a matter of a few moments.
“mr. martin, i can’t leave the bottle unless you settle your tab from the nights prior,” you answered. “i can get you a double and add it on, though, if that’s alright with you?”
“that’s not alright with me, girl,” he grunted again, glaring you down. “leave the damn bottle!”
you stood your ground. “there’s a bar across the street, mr. martin.”
“you don’t want my business, that it, sweetheart?”
“not much business if you don’t pay," you quipped.
through gritted teeth, he spat, “leave. the damn. bottle.”
“pay. the. tab.”
he went to catch you by the arm, but you were too quick. you anticipated his antics this time. you snatched an empty bottle, and broke the base of it in the sink. you put the broken, jagged edge of the neck of the bottle in between the two of you. your eyes were wild — you could feel it, and both men could definitely see it. startled, he drew back.
“this is the only bottle you’re getting with that attitude.”
that was when billy stood up and walked towards the man. the thuds of his boots, though few considering the short distance, were deafening in the mostly silent bar. you may have had a makeshift weapon, but billy? billy the kid? everyone knew what he had on him.
“time for you to leave, friend.”
the man laughed. “friend? who’s my friend to tell me when i need to leave?”
“the one who’s a quicker draw than you, that's who." his answer was slow and cool — too calm, which only made the shiver of a threat run up and down your spine faster.
the man, all talk, clenched his jaw as he stared at billy. he slapped the tab money on the top of the bar, and walked out.
you didn’t let out a sigh of relief until the man left.
but billy was the one that spoke first. “was going to step in immediately… but you held your own. they need to respect you before they’re scared of me.”
you laughed. “little does he know i’m all talk as well.”
“with that bottle?” he chuckled. “sweetheart, even i was scared.”
“you threatened him with a gun… i don’t think anything scares you, billy,” you asked. “thank you for stepping in.”
“‘s my job.”
“i know… but still,” you spoke.
you were continuing to close before he spoke again.
“what made you want to start this place?” he asked.
“my father passed a few moons before i opened this place,” you responded. “no parents, no husband — thought i might try this out.”
“my ma wanted to start a place like this,” he replied. “never got the chance.”
you nodded with a sad smile. “didn’t know her… but i think she’d be proud of how you handled that. don’t think he’ll be much trouble anymore.”
“she’d think i’m trouble with how full the lovely bartender keeps my glass,” he spoke, but looked like he instantly regretted it. “my apologies, i shouldn’t’ve — the whiskey —“
“you’re fine,” you laughed, your blush pinching your cheeks. as you walked away, you threw over your shoulder, “hopefully your ma wouldn’t mind that i keep her son’s glass full for his good work… nor that i think her son’s handsome.”
from that day forward, billy was always the man who sat at your bar.
he always greeted and made pleasant conversation with you, and glared at any man that got too aggressive with you. if looks could kill… billy would never need what he held in his holster.
you’d giggle to yourself after the creepy men would walk away. you’d never know… but when billy would hear your giggle afterwards, he’d smile, too.
but he kept that to himself.
however, slowly… he was becoming more comfortable with your company.
“so why didn’t you marry?” he one day asked randomly.
you were wiping down a glass when you got lost in the thought. “when there’s a nice one that’s interested… maybe. haven’t already because there aren’t very many nice ones. it was very convenient when you started keeping the bad ones away.”
to your dismay, he didn’t say anything in response.
but you had gotten comfortable with his company, too. too comfortable.
“and why isn’t there a mrs. bonney, billy?”
“she’d get jealous about how much time i spend with you,” he responded.
there was very little emotion in his voice, and you were afraid of reading into what he was saying. was he returning your flirtations? was he telling you that you were a drag? to answer your own question, you jokingly said, “well if i’m too much trouble, mr. bonney, you are more than welcome to have another one of your men step in.”
“well, ma’am —“ he began. “then i’d get jealous of how much time they were spending with you.”
you couldn’t hide the blush that rose into your cheeks. billy looked upon your face with a small smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze didn’t waver.
“keep talking like that, billy, and i’ll become trouble for you,” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“can’t say i’d mind much,” he responded, taking a sip of his glass, but holding eye contact with you.
if you weren’t frozen, you would’ve pulled yourself over the bar right then and then and planted yourself in his lap. you would’ve flung his glass to the floor, and wouldn’t have cleaned it up until you had kissed every inch of that man. you would’ve responded, but you couldn’t...
that was when billy’s men had stepped into the bar.
the air immediately darkened. the blonde one, named jesse, had led the pack as they stalked in. billy immediately flipped around to see what the problem was.
“sweetheart, give us a minute,” billy asked, calling over his shoulder.
billy never gave you orders, let alone in your own bar. however, if he was asking you to… you figured you should probably listen. you left the bar and went into the back. most of your employees had left for the night, so you helped the remaining ones clean up. it would be a few minutes or so before billy had come back into the kitchen to find you. you went back into the bar with him.
“i’ll be back before you close,” he spoke. “lock the doors.”
a second order. something he never did in the first place. something was wrong. you didn’t pry… you just scrunched your eyebrows in response.
“something’s up,” he spoke. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before he turned to leave. “i’m takin’ care of it.”
there you stood, absolutely stunned. billy and his men left the bar with haste and didn’t look back. you, on the other hand, stood frozen… unable to leave the spot where you had billy the kid, known for his deadly skills, kiss you on the cheek.
you finally moved, reluctantly, but only to close up.
it would be close to an hour before billy finally came back. a few of his friends came with him, and they dragged in a man on their shoulder who was grunting in pain. blood was pouring from his leg, and you immediately went for the medical supplies you kept hidden under the counter. you grabbed two bottles of whiskey for good measure, arguably also a part of your makeshift kit.
“put him down on the table,” you gushed. his men were stunned to see you hustling, but they didn’t hesitate to rest their friend. you immediately took a look at the man’s leg, and were thankful to see that there would be no permanent damage. you shoved a bottle at jesse, and stated, “make him drink this.”
jesse had unscrewed the bottle and helped his friend drink before you fished out the bullet. thankfully no arteries were punctured, but it would be some time before he was good again. you cleaned up the man the best you could, and asked if any of the men needed anything.
“no, ma’am…” jesse responded. “we were going to bring him here and do it ourselves, your place was closest… so thank you.”
you smiled at him. “take the bottles. need it more than me.”
he tipped his hat to you.
“jesse,” billy began. “you and the boys head home.”
without question, jesse nodded. they helped their friend to his feet and left with a goodbye. even though they left, the unsettling feeling of the room hadn’t changed. billy seemed… different. heavier. he wasn’t the same man that had kissed you on the cheek before he had left.
you turned to him. “i won’t pry, but —“
“good,” he spat, turning to you. billy’s eyes bore into yours like you were one of the problem men at your bar. “don’t.”
a look of hurt flashed across your face. you could feel it. “you’re looking at me like i did something.”
“i told you to lock the door,” he spat again, his look of anger unwavering.
you had only seen billy's eyes that wide and that angry when there was someone being cruel to you. the thought made you shiver.
“how would you have gotten back in?” you asked.
“knocked,” he bit.
you narrowed your eyes at his curt response. “i had a feeling something was wrong. if i had waited to unlock, i couldn’t have gotten that bullet out as fast as i did.”
“doesn’t matter,” he bit. “how am i supposed to keep you safe if you won’t listen to me?”
you scrunched your brows together in confusion. “billy… whatever happened where you were, it wasn’t here. i could’ve gone to bed… but i stayed up. waiting for you.”
“and what if someone came in, huh? what then?” he hollered. “what would you have done then?! what would i have done if you had gotten hurt?”
you shook your head in disbelief. you couldn’t believe billy was speaking to you with such disdain. “with the way you’re talking to me, billy — sounds like you’re used to women who don’t pull knives on creepy men, hold broke bottles to their necks — or fish bullets out of legs when i don’t know why he was shot in the first place. you’re used to those kind of women, and have a problem with me? maybe you should go back to them.”
you immediately turned away from him, beginning to walk towards the bar. billy was hot on your heels when he reached out to grab your wrist and turned you around.
he grabbed both sides of your face and pressed his lips to yours.
you wanted to scream at him, throw fists at his chest, push him away — anything to let you know how he hurt you, how he wronged you... but you couldn't.
no. you couldn't.
you were so stunned you stood frozen in place as his lips moved against yours. you loosely held his wrists in your hands, and kissed him back.
“don’t want those girls, darlin’,” he spoke, breathless, in between kisses. “knew you were a real woman the first time i saw you. the kind that puts the fear of god into you, but looks at you with such a sweetness in her eyes that you can’t look away.”
“better believe it, bonney,” you spat, half joking. “you’ve seen how quick i am.”
“i know, darlin’, i know,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “i also know i was wrong to speak to you the way i did.”
“shut your damn mouth and kiss me,” you replied, pulling him closer to you.
“yes, ma’am,” he playfully responded, and you slapped his shoulder.
billy had backed you up against the wall and pressed his body towards yours. you stood on your toes to reach him, and even then he had to lean down a foot or two.
“billy…” you began, pulling away. “i’ve never… but if you wouldn’t think less of me, we could go upstairs. to my room.”
“i’d never think less of you,” he spoke, shaking off your comment. “but… what’d’ya mean, ‘never?’”
“i’ve never been with a man, billy,” you responded, suddenly embarrassed.
he was quiet for a moment, before stating, “you sure you want it to be with me?”
you nodded. “if… if you want to, that is.”
he didn’t respond to your statement, he just kissed you. he kissed you with every emotion you didn’t think he ever possessed — raw, hot, desperate emotion that held you close and tight to him. the heat and the intensity made your brain swim, but you could only care so much when billy the fucking kid wanted you.
he slipped an arm around your shoulders and then underneath your knees before he picked you up. you bit back a squeal before you threw your arms around his neck.
“light as a feather, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he spoke.
“all that steak i been feeding you?” you joked.
“my belt can’t help it if my woman feeds me well,” he replied, almost at the top of the stairs.
“you’re a flirt,” you giggled.
you pointed him towards your room. once in, he laid you down on the bed and laid on top of you. his body was warm and sturdy over yours, and you couldn’t help but feel warm. his hips were pressed against yours, but you couldn’t feel him through your dress. you grew frustrated at the thought.
you made quick work to undue his shirt, and billy was quick to catch on. he pulled away to take off his shirt, and you tried to take off your corset with his help.
“damn death trap,” he spat, fussing.
you giggled. he was cute when he was flustered, but nothing compared to the way he was looking hungrily down at you. you were completely bare before him, and you should’ve been embarrassed… but shame wasn’t present in this moment. the only thing you registered was how billy looked down at you — with adoration in his eyes as they raked down your naked form.
“will you…” you began. “will you show me… how to please… you?”
“another time, sweetheart,” he spoke, stealing a quick kiss from you. “i need my head between those legs of yours.”
“you-you don’t have to —“ you spoke. “i know that’s not something — that boys —“
“yeah — boys.” billy snapped, glaring at you. “real men want to taste their women.”
that shut you right up.
billy wedged himself in between your thighs and spread your folds. it caused a sharp intake of breath on your part, but you didn’t realize what you were in for. billy flattened his tongue, and licked a long stripe up your slit. your teeth sank into your lip at the foreign feeling that cause so much warmth to make your veins twitch.
…but when billy’s nose had nudged a specific spot at the top of your slit — your legs jerked.
“what — what —“ you stammered.
“shh,” billy cooed, slightly laughing. “i forgot how sensitive you were. my apologies, sweetheart.”
you trusted billy, sure, but you had never felt anything like that before in your life. the jerking motion of your legs was involuntary and made you fearful. billy could see the fear written on your face.
“that spot that i touched, that you felt?” he asked.
his eyes were so wide and meaningful you felt like you could melt in them. you brought yourself up to your elbows and hummed in acknowledgement.
“that is the most sensitive part of a woman, and if i play it just right —“ ever so lightly, you felt his middle finger and ring finger touch the spot. you shivered at the feeling, but you didn’t flinch like last time. you held his gaze as the warmth began to spread inside you. “i can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”
billy bent over your body and held himself up with extended arm planted firmly by your side. he swiped the two fingers over his tongue to lubricate them, and brought them right back to where they were. you both watched his fingers play at the most sensitive part of you, and your lip began to quiver.
“look at me, sweetheart.”
your eyes glanced back up to him.
like you thought before, if angry looks could kill… anyone would die by just a look from billy the kid. however, what would they say about the way he’s looking at you now? with his plump lips parted, and his eyes wild and hungry? you didn't know... but you knew you would find out.
“y’trust me?” he asked.
you hummed in agreement, nodding.
“say it.”
you sharply inhaled, caught off guard by his order. “yes, billy — i trust you.”
instead of leaning back down to plunge his face in between your thighs, he kissed you. his lips connected with yours in one of the most dominating ways you ever thought a man could. with his hand playing between your thighs, he swallowed every moan and cry you struggled to keep hidden inside of you. billy was breathing hard against you — relishing in how it felt to have you so vulnerable and close to him.
that was when his fingers picked up speed.
and, god… did it feel damn good.
“b-billy,” you whimpered. “feels…”
“still trust me?”
“yes,” you cried, screwing your eyes shut. “yes, it’s just…”
he leaned his head down so his mouth was right by your ear. his breaths were hot against your ear, and you hummed at the feeling. your hand played with the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at the roots.
“fuck — you takin’ what i’m givin’ to you, darlin’,” he rasped, then continued, “drives me insane.”
you could barely hear what he was saying, nor could you respond. your head was swimming with the weight of billy so close to your naked body, holding you down and safe, with those skilled fingers of his working you like you were a damn trigger. you were a whimpering, crying mess — and billy loved every second of it.
“something — feels —“
“d’ya want me to stop?” he asked, breathless.
“no,” you whimpered, confused how the warmth inside you felt like it was going, going, going. you didn’t know where it started, where it was going, and definitely didn’t know where it ended. you were worried that you were going to explode — but you didn’t understand. “something feels — like i’m — i’m going —“
“let it happen, sweetheart.” his kisses were wet and sloppy along the skin of your throat. he nipped at the skin, and that only sent you into more of a frenzy. “that’s right, darlin’. that’s it. trust me. i’ve got you.”
and that was it.
the thing — billy’s words, that sent you toppling over whatever metaphorical edge you could think of to describe it. it felt like white, hot sparks went off behind your closed eyelids and were going off on every nerve ending in your body. whimpers left your bitten lips like you were a babe, and your back arched off the bed. distantly, you could hear billy cooing with excitement, laughter… and praise.
a light sheen of sweat was on both of you, and billy had never looked better. his musk was wafting through the air and had completely taken over your senses. you felt like the only thing in the room was billy and the only thing in the world that mattered was billy. men got drunk off whiskey, but you? you got drunk off of that pure, unfiltered scent and look of a masculine man who showed you how to experience the pleasure of a woman you had never known.
“fuck…” you whimpered as you came down from your high. you tried pushing billy’s hand away, but you were so weak you didn’t think you could.
“sorry, darlin’,” he laughed, kissing your throat again. “got selfish. wanted to keep seeing that pretty look on your face.”
it was difficult for you to find words, let alone enough for an adequate response. “billy… that… that felt…”
“i’m gonna be trouble for you now.” he stole a kiss. “nothing better than seeing you below me, like that…”
“i want you to feel good, too,” you began. “please, billy? i wanna see you, too.”
his lips formed a tight line. “i don’t want it to hurt you.”
“first time doesn’t always hurt,” you spoke. “no one says the second time hurts.”
he smiled at that, and began to roll on top of you. you stopped him, and gestured for him to sit up against the headboard. he was hesitant at first, but he did it anyway. you hovered your hips above his before licking one of your palms and gliding it over the tip of his length. you stroked him a few times, and a soft moan left his lips at the feeling.
“i can keep going,” you spoke, throwing a sultry look up at him. “i want to make you feel good.”
“no, doll,” he rasped. “too selfish. need to see that pretty face of yours do what it does again.”
you pouted for a short moment before you lifted your hips above his length and began to sink down. you could feel a slick leaking from your folds, which made you feel better about actually getting him inside you.
“go slow,” he ordered suddenly. “you stop if it hurts, got it?”
you nodded, half ignoring him.
but it didn’t hurt.
the first inch didn’t hurt. the second didn’t. the third, the fourth, the fifth, sixth, — you lost count. billy was so big and filled you so nicely that you were so greedy with how you sank down into him. you couldn’t have cared less about what he said before about going slow — all you needed was to feel all of him completely.
“you didn’t listen —“ he grunted, slightly mad. “you’re so lucky you feel good, fuck — you’re so tight —“
“so what if i didn’t listen, mr. bonney?” you smiled coyly at him, a sudden bout of confidence coming over you. maybe it was the post orgasm glow, maybe it was the new feeling of having the most perfect man inside of you — you weren’t sure. “you feel — so good.”
“don’t get bold on me, sweetheart,” he smirked.
you didn’t listen. you picked up your pace, rocking your hips back and forth to what felt good inside of you.
billy’s cock liked that, sure — but he didn’t. you could see the mental turmoil on his face as his neglected cock was finally getting the attention it deserved, but his hothead person didn’t like that his girl was getting smart on him.
that was when billy flipped you over onto your back, much to your dismay. you liked putting on a show for him and doing all the work for a change.
“you wanna act like that, darlin’, huh?” he asked in your ear with a raspy, lust filled voice. “not gonna listen to me?”
“it just felt so good, billy, please —“ you were whining at this point, pissed he had taken away that feeling.
“oh, you’re a greedy thing, that right?” he taunted. “gets one fuckin’ taste, and now she can’t get enough?”
you shook your head, desperate for something — anything. “so greedy, baby. please, billy — please just fuck me.”
his hips snapped against you. hard.
maybe it should’ve hurt — but fucking christ, it didn’t. it felt so good to have his strong, forceful hips thrust against yours and hit that spot so deep inside of you.
“you like that?” he asked, taunting you. “that’s what my greedy girl wanted? — needed?”
his hips were relentlessly snapping against yours now as he hovered above you by holding himself up on his elbows. the sight of his broad and strong chest and shoulders… enough to make any woman weak. a firm crease was in his brow, signaling he was struggling to keep up his mean persona.
“yes — yes —“ you cried. “billy, you’re so deep — it feels — fuck, you can’t stop billy. please —“
“sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “squeezing me so tight.”
“right there — that’s the spot, baby,” you bit your lip to keep your voice down.
billy leaned his forehead against yours, and his exhales fanned against your face. little moans were escaping his lips as well, but nothing like yours. instead, he spat, “couldn’t let me be nice to you and fuck you sweet, huh? had to get smart on me?”
you could barely hear him. billy’s usual raspy, and commanding voice was enough to make anyone stand at attention — but now? now you were some cockdrunk whore who didn’t care how she got what she wanted, only that she did. his thrust were hard and fast, hitting a deep spot in you that was making that warmth swell up in you again.
“didn’t want sweet, billy,” you whimpered. “wanted you to use me just like this.”
you weren’t sure what came over you — and billy wasn’t sure either. his thrusts didn’t falter, but he couldn’t understand how the pretty, innocent looking bartender could be so fucking naughty — but only for him. a sense of pride had never welled up inside him like that before, knowing that he was the only one who got to see the prettiest girl in town keen for someone’s touch like this.
his touch. only his touch.
“gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he spat against your ear. “should’ve known you’d be such a good girl for me — taking my cock like this. can you cum around my cock like this? gonna be the best girl — and show me how that pussy tightens around me?”
the curse words billy drew from you were not your sunday best, but they made billy’s guttural groans against your throat and ear that much more enticing. you were both covered in sweat, spit, and slick — and nothing had ever felt better. you were close, so close — and all you wanted was to see him finish so you could see it for yourself.
“billy, i’m so close —“ you cried. “but i wanna —i wanna see you —“
“shhh,” he cooed. “gonna take what i give you, sweet girl.”
he sent a hand in between your bodies, and started playing with that spot that had made you explode the last time. you almost protested, but there was nothing like having a man buried so deep inside you do whatever he could to make sure you felt the best you could. you whined, you cried, you screamed, fuck — you did everything to let him know that you were close, billy, i’m so close, please, i’m begging, please don’t stop, and billy refused to look away from your beautiful face as you came undone below him once more.
with your beautiful hair fanned out around you, billy thought you looked ethereal as your second orgasm overtook you. there was something about the way your eyes fluttered softly closed, but broken gasps left your lips like you were so far gone in pleasure that you were lost in it. here, beneath him, before him, was a woman he had spent so much time protecting, so worried about her safety… all he wanted to do was make her feel good. when your limbs began to quiver, knowing you were so deep in your orgasm that you were at the peak, billy couldn’t help himself. he knew you were sensitive, he knew how it would be too much, he knew he shouldn't — but he had to. he was so, so selfish with his greedy girl.
his fingers kept spinning circles on your pink rosebud, and it was like the white light behind your eyes couldn’t stop. you were gasping for air — begging, pleading, hoping, wishing. it was so much. it was too much. it was everything and anything all at once, and you didn’t realize how far you were falling until tears leaked from your eyes.
he should've hated himself for making you feel so lost, but he didn't. not one bit.
“billy —“ you cried, shaking. “i’m so — so sensitive —“
he engulfed you into a long kiss, smiling smugly against your lips. you would’ve laughed with him, but you were so weak. so, so weak. he knew how sensitive you were, and stopped his movements completely. you didn’t realize he hadn’t finished with you until he began to pull out of you.
“billy — you didn’t —“
“s’alright, darlin’—“
“no, it’s not,” you said firmly. “teach me how to do — that thing.”
“that... thing?”
“with my mouth.”
he hesitated before shaking his head. “i don’t… tonight was a lot — for you.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “boys don’t taste their women, right? men do?”
he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, but nodded anyway.
“and what about real women, billy?” you asked. “you think they like leaving their men unsatisfied?”
his lips parted at a loss. he couldn’t argue with that, could he?
“sit on the edge of the bed,” you spoke, sliding out from under him and finding a place on the floor.
he hesitated, but he didn’t argue with that, either.
you tried to hide your smirk from him.
he'd never tell you he saw it. he also would never tell you he loved it.
"you gonna tell me what to do, or what, cowboy?" you smirked up at him, taunting.
he shook his head, and pursed his lips in a way that he knew you were in over your head. "you're acting bold. let's see if you got a reason to."
you narrowed your eyes at him, but smiled anyway.
you returned your attention to the muscle you were holding in yours hands. it was long and thick — you weren't sure how it fit inside you before, and you definitely weren't sure how you were going to fit it in your mouth.
"too much for you, darlin'?" he quipped.
you shot him a look. "wasn't too much a minute ago, was it?"
you didn't let him respond. you licked the palm of your hand — throwing manners to the wind — and wrapped your hand around the tip and the top of the shaft. you made circular, stroking motions at the top and licked a stripe, like he did to you, up his shaft.
that shut him up.
a long and drawn out fuuuck had left his lips.
you shouldn't've — you knew you shouldn't've.
but you did anyway.
you started to kitten lick at his balls, and you could feel him shift from above you. hot and heavy groans were leaving his lips, to the point where he was incoherent. now that you had found his sweet spot, you'd never let go. just like he didn't.
"fuck, you are naughty," he rasped, voice dry and cracked. "my naughty girl. so good f'me."
you hummed as you wrapped your lips around the skin of his balls. they were warm and salty, and you relished in the taste. billy placed a heavy palm on the back of your head. you realized then and there he was foreign to giving up control — usually you'd give in, but not now. not when he was teasing you before.
you replaced your hand with your lips, and brought him down as far as you could.
from the corner of your eye, you spotted him beginning to fist the sheets.
tears were springing to your eyes, but you didn't care. you wanted to — had to keep going. you wanted this so badly — to take care of him. you needed this, and if he wanted it, too — he was going to give it to you.
you began to bob your head up and down, taking care to mind your gag reflex and teeth. the slurping sounds from your mouth were obscene — as was the drool falling from your lips, down your cheek, and along the skin of your raw neck.
both of billy's hands were on the back of your head now, giving you slightest — almost ghost like — push down. you welcomed it, hoping to show him you could take him far, farther than he thought you could handle.
above, he was going crazy. fucking nuts. his entire body was hot and on fire, and it took every ounce of him to not drag you back up into his lap and impale you on his cock. however... his muscles were tired, and his sweet girl looked so perfect on her knees before him, and who was he to deny her what she wanted so badly — what she earned?
he'd never tell you — but he wanted you to have it more than you wanted it yourself. he wanted you to know that he only felt comfortable enough with you to be in such a vulnerable position like this — pretty woman, teeth so close to his jewels. he wanted you to know that you were setting every nerve, vein, blood vessel on absolute fucking fire with the way your silky tongue slid down the length of his shaft, and the way your tight, warm throat enclosed around his sensitive cock... he wanted you to know how much he adored you, and how much he wanted to give you everything you had ever wanted.
"fuck, sweetheart —" he bit. "I'm so close — you better — pull off —"
"too much for you, cowboy?" she only pulled off for a second, before she put him into the deepest parts of her throat.
the way you teased him set a raw set of anger and adoration through this veins, and he didn't know what to do with it. he was so weak, tired, spent, and fucking horny — he couldn't move, think, or fight back. all he wanted was to cum down this sweet girl's throat and make her his.
"that's it, baby, fuck —" he spat through gritted teeth, the hands on the back of your head encouraging your movements. "right there, right there — fuck."
you held your place, keeping a few inches of him in your mouth. his thick cock throbbed a few times before ropes of white decorated the walls of your throat, and you swallowed every last drop. you pumped him a few more times, for good measure — and also to get back at him for earlier.
"don't be mean to me, baby —" he whined. "come up and lay with me."
you giggled, crawling up the bed to lay next to him.
"gonna tell me how that was?" you asked. "or too proud?"
he chuckled then. his post orgasm glow was so beautiful... for the first time, william h. bonney didn't have a permanent from embedded in his brow. he looked so... peaceful.
"not too proud to admit that was the best I've ever had in my life," he laughed, letting his eyes close. you trailed a hand up and down the soft skin of his chest and stomach before curling up next to him. "going to be proud after i take you to the courthouse tomorrow and make you my wife."
you scoffed at that. "i didn't think cowboys were the settling down type."
"they're not — but i'm no cowboy, sweetheart," he rasped, turning to look at you. "you're it for me — if you'll have me, that is."
you smiled then. a real smile. the type of smile that gave billy hope.
"on one condition," you spoke.
his eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded his head anyway.
"you'll ask me for real in the morning, mr. bonney."
"i'll give you anything you want, mrs. bonney — as long as you're mine."
---
what did we think?? xox
-L
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sleekervae · 13 days
Text
The Bride [0.1]
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Masterlist
Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader
Summary: While out riding, Billy is stunned to come upon a young woman in a wedding gown begging for help. Without a second thought he comes to her aid and takes her back to town. Little does he know that rescuing this young bride will bring him more trouble than he bargained for.
Warnings: foul language, mentions of arranged marriage
Word Count: 4,946
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The horse's hooves kicked up dust as he traversed the rugged terrain, the only sound breaking the stillness of the evening. Tall grasses swayed gently in the breeze, and the distant call of a lone coyote echoed through the vast expanse.
Billy's gaze swept over the horizon, taking in the breathtaking beauty of the untouched land. The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink, a stark contrast to the deep greens and browns of the earth below.
As boy and horse continued on their journey, the only companion the vastness of the frontier, Billy couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the raw, untamed beauty of the land. The western frontier was a place of mystery and adventure, where danger lurked around every corner, but for now, it was a place of peace and tranquility, a sanctuary in the midst of chaos.
Though perhaps he thought too soon when he caught sight of what at he at first thought was a ghost. But ghosts didn't trip, nor did they cuss between shouts for help. At least, Billy didn't think so. Though the closer he came to the ghost, the more he came to realize there was nothing supernatural about them.
It was a woman, young and fair, her once pristine wedding gown now stained and torn, her face etched with frustration and desperation. She stumbled forward, one hand gripping the layers to her skirt while her other arm frantically waved him down.
"Hey! Hey, can you help me?" despite her appearance, her voice was direct, unshaken.
"What in the hell happened to you?" Billy couldn't help it, the words slipped out before he had a moment to process.
The bride stood before him now and he could have a better look at her. She was slender and small, her figure striking against the backdrop of the tall grass. Her long brown hair, once carefully styled in a bridal updo, now cascaded around her shoulders in a messy tangle, strands framing her face in a wild halo. Despite the disarray, her hair shimmered in the fading light, catching the last rays of the setting sun.
Her wedding gown, once a symbol of joy and celebration, was now stained and torn, the fabric clinging to her form in a way that spoke of hardship and struggle. Despite the wear and tear, the gown still held a sense of elegance, the intricate lace and delicate embroidery standing out against the rugged backdrop of the wilderness.
Her gaze locked with the Billy's, though oddly enough the resilience he saw in her face struck him anew. She didn't appear as a desperate, lost and helpless bride.
"It's a long, fuckin' story," she grumbled, dropping her skirt in a huff, "Where you comin' from?"
"Santa Fe,"
"Mind if I ride back with you?"
Billy took a look around, in the back of his mind he was worried that this girl may be luring him into some sort of trap. But he was out in the open, if someone was going to come out and ambush him, they would've done it by now. And something about the dirt and cuts on this girl told him she wasn't faking it.
"Look, if I had any money to offer, I would --"
"Sure thing," he offered her his hand, to which she took gratefully. She hooked her heeled boot into the stirrup and pulled herself up behind Billy. The horse snuffled and shifted to regain her balance under the added weight, and with a hard crack of the reigns, Billy and the bride clung on as the horse galloped through the tall grass.
Dusk began to close in, casting long shadows across the landscape as they rode back to Santa Fe. The fading light painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, a stark contrast to the deepening shadows that enveloped the land.
The bride remained silent most of the way, making a couple grunts and huffs when they'd hit rougher terrain. Billy was ever the more curious.
"So, what did he do?" he asked.
"Excuse me?" the bride lifted her head.
"Your fella? Your husband or whatever. What did he do for you to ditch 'im at the altar?" he craned his head as best he could, meeting her gaze, "Or did you just get cold feet and bolt?"
The bride scoffed and gave her head a simple shake, "Call me crazy, but I'm not exactly eager to marry a man I barely met a month ago," she replied.
"I think that's pretty justified," he nodded, "So you left 'im?"
"Yes sir," she confirmed.
"Where did you run from?" he asked.
"Rosario,"
Billy paused in disbelief, " -- you... you came all the way from Rosario?"
"You sound surprised," she simpered.
Billy shook his head, "I don't mean to offend, ma'am, but how in the hell did you wander all the way here from Rosario in that fuckin' dress?"
"Simple answer is I had a horse," she replied casually, "Until he got spooked and ran off. But I knew there was a town this way so I was just sort of... praying for refuge. And I'm not even a catholic woman,"
"Well, I'm happy to oblige you," he turned back to her again, "What's your name?"
"... Eleanor," she drawled, "And what about you?"
"William. But friends and family call me Billy,"
Eleanor smirked, "So what would you rather I call you?"
"Whatever you feel like, Miss Eleanor," he grinned back.
"You can drop the 'miss'. A lot of people who know me wouldn't regard me as much of a lady," she sighed.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asked.
"Depends who you ask," she replied simply.
Billy shrugged, "Well, if you ask me -- I reckon you're a very beautiful lady, Eleanor"
Eleanor scoffed back, never the less her smile remained on her lips, "Thank you... Billy," He noticed the slight drawl in her tone, a thread of a southern accent that he found quite charming.
They soon trotted into town. Shops were just closing up for the day, camaraderie and chatter could be heard from within saloons and oil lamps were coming to life as dusk fell. A few stragglers turned and stared peculiarly at the pair, at Eleanor particularly. She knew she had to get changed, she stuck out like a sore thumb in that dress.
"My ma runs a boarding house here, you're more than welcome to stay if you like," Billy told her, "We'll get you fed, into some new clothes,"
Eleanor grinned sheepishly, "That's very kind of you, Billy, but I couldn't. I don't have money on me at the moment," she replied.
"Don't worry about the money right now, my ma will understand," and he turned to her, "We'll just get you back on your feet for the moment," he had such kind eyes, warm and soulful despite their crystalline shade of blue. He equally found her to be quite sweet in spite of her sharp tongue.
"Alright. I appreciate that," she nodded, "Sooner I can get out of this dress, the better I reckon,"
Billy smiled at her, "It's a might shame, it looks stunning on you,"
She stifled a chuckle, "Try not to cry too hard when you see me out of it,"
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Billy brought Eleanor to the boarding house, where Kathleen welcomed her with open arms. Kathleen, ever the caretaker, was more than happy to assist the poor girl in her time of need. She offered Eleanor a blouse and a skirt to replace her tattered wedding dress, which was gently tucked away. Eleanor considered the dress; perhaps she could clean it up and sell it, a small act of independence in the midst of her turmoil.
"Have you got any money on you?" Kathleen asked.
Eleanor shook her head, "No ma'am, I'm very sorry," she replied.
Kathleen nodded, shooting a dubious look Billy's way. While she didn't mind helping, she was just making ends meet with her business and couldn't quite afford charity. Billy knew that. But she wasn't totally heartless, either.
"Can you clean?" she then asked.
"And cook," Eleanor volunteered.
Kathleen cracked a smile, "Well, I think we can have you work off your wages for a while,"
"I'd appreciate that very much," Eleanor smiled gratefully.
"Think nothing of it," Kathleen took her by the arm and started for the hall, "I'll show you where you'll be sleeping,"
Billy watched Eleanor vanish into the darkness with Kathleen, a smile playing on his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes. Her fleeting, grateful look lingered in his mind, stirring a mix of emotions. Yet, as he pondered her sudden departure, a nagging inkling tugged at him, whispering doubts about her intentions. Rosario was a half a day's journey at least, and Billy couldn't help but wonder about Eleanor's lack of provisions. How desperate was she to leave, and was her escape merely temporary? Or was there something more nefarious she was running from?
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In the early afternoon sun of Santa Fe, the bustling streets came alive with activity, the air filled with the sounds of hooves clattering against the dusty ground and the chatter of locals going about their day. The rickety, wooden buildings that lined the streets cast long shadows, providing a welcome respite from the intense heat. The scent of woodwork and cooking wafted through the streets, mingling with the earthy aroma of the desert.
Billy stepped into the kitchen of the boarding house, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and cornmeal mush filling the air. His eyes immediately sought out Eleanor, who stood at the stove, a look of concentration on her face as she mixed her batter with practiced ease. She looked happy and calm, a far cry from the distressed bride he had found not twenty-four hours ago.
Relief washed over him at the sight of her. Despite his lingering mistrust, he couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in her presence. He approached her cautiously, keeping his guard up.
"Mornin'," he said, his voice soft but cautious.
She turned to him, a warm smile lighting up her face, "Good morning," she then glanced at the stove, "There's coffee made, if you'd like some,"
"Thank you," he went to fetch a cup off of the counter, "How did you sleep?"
"As well as expected, I suppose," she poured her batter into a pot, "Your mother's been awful kind to me, I hope to repay you all in kind soon,"
Billy studied her for a moment, searching for any hint of deception in her eyes. Finding none, he nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"You helping my ma is enough," he assured her, "It's hard to keep help around sometimes, so most days it's me and my brother helping out,"
Eleanor simpered, "I met Joe this morning, sweet kid. Your mother's very lucky to have you both," she said.
"Yeah," he leaned over the counter, the cup still clenched in his hand, "She's a good woman, I do everything I can to look after her,"
She cocked her head, "How old are you, Billy?"
"Seventeen,"
"Seventeen..." Eleanor echoed in awe, her voice soft with understanding, "And already you feel responsible for her, am I right?"
Billy was at first perplexed by her statement, but as he pondered her words, he began to recognize the weight of her insight.
"I suppose so," he replied with a shrug, his expression reflecting a mix of resignation and determination, "My... step-dad... hasn't been pulling in the money lately, so I do what I can to help. I don't want to let her down."
"I don't blame you," Eleanor nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "I wish my mother was like yours."
"What's your mother like?" Billy inquired.
Eleanor sighed deeply, her movements slow and deliberate as she stirred her cornmeal batter, "She was... there when she needed to be," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness, "Most times, though, she wasn't. She died about two years ago,"
Billy felt a pang of empathy. "I'm very sorry to hear that... My father died when I was twelve,"
Eleanor glanced at him, her eyes catching a glimpse of the vulnerability beneath his stoic exterior, "I'm so sorry. What happened to him?"
"He wasn't too well... up here," Billy tapped the side of his head lightly. "What about your mother?"
"Syphilis. Plain awful," Eleanor muttered bitterly. "How was your mother when he died?"
"She was heartsick, we all were. But she's strong, we pushed on because of her," Billy explained. "What about your father?"
"My father... wasn't the same. He never really recovered," she replied, her voice trailing off, "Suppose that's why he stuck me in that dress not a minute after I was eighteen," she added with a bitter laugh, though her eyes betrayed a mix of spite and sorrow.
Billy approached her slowly, "Well, must bring you some peace to get away. You don't have to go back to Rosario," he assured her.
Eleanor's bitter glare melted away, her soft smile slipping across her face again, "It does. And I appreciate all the help and kindness you've given me,"
Billy's gaze softened as he studied Eleanor, a flicker of something new and unexpected stirring within him. He had been wary of her, guarded against the possibility of deception. Yet, as he looked into her deep brown eyes, he saw only sincerity and a genuine desire to move forward.
"I'm glad to hear that, Eleanor. Truly," he said, his voice warm with sincerity. The smile that tugged at his lips was genuine, a reflection of the newfound respect and admiration he felt for her.
Eleanor was a bit rusty with the chores, but she was giving it her all. Billy didn't mind pitching in, whether it was collecting and folding bedsheets, chopping firewood, or even cleaning dishes alongside her.
Their time together was anything but dull. Billy learned a lot about Eleanor; her family was originally from France but came to America over seventy years ago. They lived in South Carolina for a while until the work dried up and they too decided to start over again in the West. It was tough trying to get more information about her family, how she grew up. Billy got the sense she didn't want to talk much about her childhood, so he eventually dropped it altogether.
Eleanor was equally curious about Billy—how he ended up in Santa Fe, his favorite foods, his card-playing skills. She mentioned her desire to learn poker, so Billy took it upon himself to teach her. With an old deck of cards, he patiently explained the game's ins and outs. Though Eleanor struggled with the rules at first, she improved with each hand, even if she did keep losing her peanuts to Billy.
Joe, despite his young age, joined in the card games, offering Eleanor pointers on improving her strategy. Whenever Billy scolded his brother, Joe would playfully stick out his tongue, which never failed to amuse Eleanor. She found herself growing fond of these boys, feeling comfortable and at ease in their company.
Their leisure time eventually gave way to preparing supper for the boarders. While their meal options were limited, Eleanor managed to whip up a simple yet tasty stew. Billy assisted, chopping vegetables carefully to avoid any mishaps. Despite his best efforts, he did slip once, cutting his finger. Eleanor immediately called for Joe to fetch bandages, insisting on wrapping Billy's wound to prevent any blood from getting into the stew.
"Ain't no way in hell you're getting any blood in my stew, Billy Antrim," Eleanor said, her sass bringing out her southern accent, which only added to her charm in Billy's eyes. He found himself increasingly drawn to her, finding her both amusing and captivating.
The day melted into evening, painting the sky in shades of indigo. Bright stars dotted the darkness, casting a serene backdrop for Billy and Eleanor. They sat on the roof outside his window, their conversation flowing effortlessly as if they were old friends. Eleanor felt a deep connection to Billy, as if she had known him forever. His gentle nature and warm charm were like a balm to her soul, familiar and comforting. She couldn't shake the feeling that she must've known him in another life.
"Up there's the Orion's Belt," Billy pointed to a cluster of stars above. Eleanor cocked a brow.
"That don't look like any belt to me," she simpered.
Billy chuckled back, "You can't look at it too critically. It's those three dots up there," he pointed again, "Orion was a great hunter who was eventually placed in the stars by Zeus after his death. And those three stars that make up his belt are called Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka,"
She looked to him, surprised yet intrigued at his knowledge of the cosmos, "How do you know all that?" she asked.
"An old man told me the stories, long ago," he shrugged back, "Stayed with me, I guess,"
Eleanor nodded, her gaze reluctantly leaving his captivating eyes to focus on the sky, "It's kind of romantic, isn't it? When we die, we become stars. Our stories live on forever," she mused.
"Yeah," Billy agreed, casting another glance her way, "It's pretty romantic."
She was sad when she realized the time, knew they both had to be up in the morning to do the day all over again. However, Eleanor couldn't find herself to be lethargic or annoyed. She was excited for what tomorrow would bring, a feeling she hadn't enjoyed in quite some time.
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The next day was just like any other. Though this time Billy felt different; he had a little pep in his step. Sure, it wouldn't be noticeable if you didn't know him, or if you weren't paying attention. But Billy felt different, a good type of different. He could've chalked it down to the actual good night's sleep he got, the lack of commotion in the street this morning, or simply him noting how pretty Eleanor looked in the radiant morning sun while she was taking down the laundry.
Billy suddenly felt an arm fly around his shoulders, catching him off guard as he made his way to the saloon. It was his friend Carlos, his face lit up with mischief.
"Aye, Billy!" Carlos exclaimed, his voice merry, "You didn't tell me you were getting married! Felicidades!"
Billy chuckled, shaking his head as he removed Carlos' arm, "The hell are you going on about?" he asked, amused.
"The bride! Everyone's talking about her!" Carlos replied matter-of-factly, "Where did you pick her up?"
Billy sighed, rubbing his temples. "Out in the plains," he explained. "She wandered out from Rosario,"
Carlos stopped in his tracks, a look of bewilderment crossing his face, "You're kiddin'. That's half a day's trek!"
"That's what she told me, anyway," Billy said with a shrug, "I thought she was bait for a gang of rustlers or something, but she seems alright so far,"
"Right…" Carlos nodded slowly, falling back into step with Billy, "And how lucky for you, she's staying in your boarding house?"
Billy stifled a laugh. "Don't go around telling tall tales about me, now,"
"Me? Pfft, never," Carlos retorted, holding his head high.
As they continued down the street, the atmosphere of camaraderie began to fade as the sound of hooves thundered into town. The locals turned to see a group of men on horseback, dressed in infantry uniforms with shiny rifles slung across their backs. They were members of the U.S Army, and their arrival drew a curious and apprehensive gaze from the townspeople.
The town's sheriff stepped forward, hands plastered to his hips as he greeted the captain.
"Gentlemen, can I help you?" the sheriff asked.
"Why, yes you can," the captain drawled, dawning a thicker southern accent, "My boys and I have been riding since yesterday, we're looking for a young woman. She would have been wearing a wedding dress," he raised his hand to his knee, "'Bout five and a half feet tall, pretty brown eyes,"
"I see," the sheriff nodded, "This girl is your daughter?"
"My wife. Or... she was supposed to be," he chuckled bitterly, "Plain up and left me at the altar,"
Billy felt a lump in his throat, disbelief and disdain growing within him. This army captain was probably older then Henry Antrim. He sported a neatly trimmed mustache, reminiscent of those European settlers who often passed through, adding a touch of character to his otherwise disciplined appearance. His attire was completed with polished boots and a well-placed insignia on his cap, signifying his rank and authority.
There was no way, absolutely no way, that Eleanor was meant to marry this man. It was no wonder she had run away.
Carlos didn't need a second glance at Billy to understand his thoughts; he placed a calming hand on his shoulder. Billy stood with clenched fists, his rugged fingernails digging into his palms, his expression unwavering.
The sheriff adjusted his hat, scanning the crowd of locals, "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Captain, but I think I would've noticed a woman in a wedding dress running around in my town," he stated.
Billy started to relax slightly. Perhaps the captain hadn't seen him ride in with Eleanor? Perhaps he hadn't heard the gossip from the townspeople?
But luck was not on Billy's side. An older man approached, wiping sweat from his greying whiskers. "Hold on, Sheriff! I saw the older Antrim kid ride in with a girl in white the other day!" he exclaimed. "All dolled up and everything. She was kinda dirty, though."
"Is that so, Angus?" the sheriff inquired.
"Plum right! Old Taylor saw her too!" Angus affirmed, pointing to another old man on a storefront stoop, who nodded in agreement.
The sheriff gave a thoughtful hum, glancing back at the captain, who maintained a stiff, expectant smile. Turning to face Billy and Carlos under another awning, the sheriff's gaze was piercing, "Where's this girl, Billy?" he asked.
Billy was speechless, struggling to find the right words. He may not have been the best judge of character, but he liked Eleanor. And there was something about this captain that didn't sit right with him, the significant age gap being just one concern.
As Billy tried to form a response, a cry rang out from behind them. "Hey! Thief!" another local shouted, rushing into the street with a pitchfork in hand, "Sheriff! Some girl up and took off with my horse!"
"Which way did she go?"
"Towards the lake!"
In that moment, Billy knew he had to seize the opportunity. He made a quick decision and darted off to retrieve his own horse.
The moment that she heard the thundering horses ride into town, Eleanor knew she had to get out and get out fast. She didn't want to, but she had no other option than take the first horse she saw. She cracked the reigns hard, keeping her head down and focus sharp as she rode away under the blazing sun. She wasn't going back to her settlement, and she certainly wasn't going to be married.
Little did she know she had Billy hot on her trail. It didn't take long for him to catch up to her, spotting her as just a speck in the distance. He pushed his horse as hard as he could, at the same time trying to put together some sort of plan. He didn't want to let the captain have Eleanor, but he also felt she couldn't leave. Not at least without an explanation.
Billy was gaining fast, but not fast enough. On his hip he had his gun holster. He didn't shoot it very often, more often he used it as an intimidation tactic for when the boys at the saloon got a little out of hand. And by no means did he want to shoot Eleanor either, but he needed her to stop, just for a minute. He drew his gun and took aim, popping a shot off of her right. The bullet sliced through the earth and dirt ricocheted across the galloping horse. It stopped and reared up, nearly throwing the frightened Eleanor off its back.
When the horse came down Eleanor turned around, frantic and furious to find Billy was the one who shot at her.
"What the fuck!? Are you fucking crazy!?" she hollered as he approached, "You could've killed me!"
"Why didn't you say something?" he asked, not even caring to acknowledge his stunt.
"And what was I supposed to say, Billy?" she scoffed.
"That the U.S fucking army was going to be coming after you!" he snapped.
"Because you wouldn't have helped me!" she shouted back, "And don't pretend like you would've. Nobody wants to get in the way of the infantry!"
Billy shook his head, "Well, it might've been nice to know! We could've taken off this morning!"
"To where? Where could we go, Billy?" Eleanor asked, "We're barely fucking adults, and your mother needs you!"
"We can figure something out," he said, "Maybe I can talk to the sheriff? Maybe he can get the captain to see reason!"
Eleanor scoffed, "You know what I did in Rosario, Billy? I ran my father's books. When my mother died, and he lost his mind, I ran the whole damn ranch. I kept everything in top condition from the pay to the fucking cow feed!" she snapped, "And how do I get rewarded? With my father selling my dowry to the captain for protection from the Apache! I'm not gonna' watch a whole army decimate a people for no good reason, and I'm certainly not some little woman who's gonna sit around and be a good little wife!" she explained frantically.
"But Eleanor --"
"That man came all the way up here looking for me, he's not gonna' leave until he gets me. And it's safer for everyone in town if I disappear as quickly as I can. I'm sorry if you can't understand!"
Billy huffed, as much as it annoyed him he knew she was right. Having gone with her would paint a large target on both of their backs, and Billy couldn't bare to cause his mother any heartbreak like that. At the same time, he was scared for Eleanor, God only knew what she would face if she went out into the frontier by herself.
"I understand, Eleanor. I do," he nodded, "I just wish I could help you,"
Eleanor pulled her horse up beside his, coming to sit next to him, "You have done so much to help me, already. I'm so grateful to you, and your family. And I will repay you some day," she promised, "Hell, take that ugly old dress to the tailor, you might get something for it,"
Billy gave her a once over glance. She was still in the blouse and skirt Kathleen gave her, a single canteen of water was tied to the saddle. She wouldn't make it out there for long on her own, not with what she had. Without a second thought he shed his linen coat and dug into his pockets for whatever money he had on him.
"Take this," he placed the coat over her shoulders, "And this," and he handed her the money.
"Oh my God, I can't. Billy --" she tried to give the money back.
"Just take it," he assured her, "I don't know when you'll find the next town, but that should get you some food at least,"
Her chest began to ache, he'd shown her more kindness in the last two days than any man had in her lifetime. And she had a feeling he was just too stubborn to let her go without the money and coat. She looked to him reluctantly.
"... Are you absolutely sure?"
"I'm positive," he nodded, "You gotta' go. They're gonna be coming out here looking for the both of us, soon enough,"
Eleanor nodded, slipping the coat on properly and placing the money in the pocket, "Thank you, Billy -- for everything,"
He put on a brave smile, "Think nothing of it, Eleanor,"
She swore his smile was something she'd keep imprinted in her brain, a shred of comfort and happiness on the days where she may not find such. Without a word, she reached up, gently cupped his face, and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was urgent yet tender, filled with gratitude and unspoken emotions. Billy was momentarily taken by surprise but responded instinctively, his hand cupping around her neck as he deepened the kiss, matching her intensity. He could feel the steady beat of her pulsing heart beneath his touch. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves their moment.
When they finally parted, Billy was momentarily taken aback by her actions. He held her gaze for a moment longer, silently conveying everything he couldn't put into words.
She took the reins again, and she gave him one last coy smile, "Try not to look so sad, Billy. I'll see you around," with that, she snapped the reigns and took off South.
Billy was conflicted, on the one hand he figured he could go after her. Go with her, see what kind of adventures they could find... maybe even kiss her again?
On the other hand he knew he couldn't never leave his mother and brother at the hands of Henry. So with a heavy heart, he waited until she was a speck in the distance before he started back for town.
As he approached, the infantry began to ride out. The captain approached him, his posture stiff and upright. "Well? Did you find her?" he asked.
Billy shook his head, masking his disdain, "She had too much of a head start," he replied.
"Dammit!" the captain cursed, scanning the horizon, "Well, which way did she go?"
Billy met his gaze, a steely resolve in his eyes, "North," he told him, "She was heading up North,"
"She's prolly' headin' to Colorado, Capt'n!" one the soldiers piped in.
The captain scoffed, "Well, that's where we're going. Let's move, boys!" and in a hurried stampede, they took off North. Billy let out a small sigh of relief, but the ache in his chest didn't cease. He could only pray to high heaven that Eleanor would be safe, and that maybe he'd see her again one day.
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spideyhexx · 17 days
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i've been thinking about boss' daughter with billy where she does it specifically to get back at her father but billy is too in love with her to care (and hopes she'll actually fall in love with him too eventually)
omg that’s angsty but also really sweet too :(
like he was instantly head over heels for you the moment he saw you on the porch of the ranch house with your father.
Billy would do almost anything he could to be in your vicinity, even to just hear your voice as you talked to your mother or father. And he’d easily learn you hated him…and Billy wasn’t fond of him either but he stuck around because he got decent pay and well, you were there.
It would be hard not to miss Billy and the way people talk about Billy. Your father would always talk about how he’s an excellent shot, but there was a sense of jealously in his tone, jealous that this younger man has so much more talent in something, almost like it’s a threat.
So you saw that as the perfect opportunity to get back at your father. You seek Billy out when he’s working the ranch, talking to him more. Yes, your reasonings are selfish, but you find yourself enjoying his company. That he’s not as harsh as the other men around and he genuinely cares on your interests.
Billy sees right through it. He’s not dumb, he knows you put on more of a show of flirting when the other men who work the ranch might see. Hoping they’d mention it to your father and you’d play coy.
But Billy can’t bring it in himself to stop you from doing it. It feels too good to have your attention like this.
The one thing he draws the line at is the idea of kissing you. You’ve kissed his cheek and he’s kissed yours, kissed your knuckles and your hand but kissing your lips? He didn’t want that to be a show. To be something you faked.
So he always dodges any opportunity he has to kiss you/for you to kiss him. If you’re leaning close, or even insinuating it, he backtracks.
That is until one day you come out and ask him why he hasn’t kissed you yet, and he says, “Well, I wanna make sure you want it.” And he raises his brow.
Maybe you hadn’t even noticed he knew about your little game but now you do. He’s staring you down with a grin.
After that night, you start to forget your little game and fully focus on just being with him. No thoughts of your father. No worries that you’re in a barn alone with him, nobody can see and whisper gossip to your father. It’s just you and him, and after days or even weeks of that, is when Billy kisses you.
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viennakarma · 6 months
Text
Everything I Wanted I.
LESTAPPEN X READER (Part 1)
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Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.
Word count: 7.1k
Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read
Relationships: Lestappen x Reader
Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader
Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader
Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. I know I said it was a oneshot, but the thing got out of hand, and I had to split it in half. Soon there will be a part 2! English is not my first language, so please ignore any mistake!
Find me on Twitter!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
“They’re not friends, you understand? They’re rivals, and that’s all they’ll ever be.”
You stand, hugging your helmet firmly against your chest, your dad’s words louder than the ringing in your ear from the way he slapped the side of your head. You were 9 and it was your first time competing in a karting competition. You tried to befriend the other kids your age, but as soon as your dad called you away, fuming, you knew it was a mistake.
You followed your dad’s orders, and didn’t talk to any of the boys again. Max was already cold towards you, so he pretty much ignored your existence. But Charles was more talkative, and as you stopped answering him, he became taunting, annoying, but you didn’t fall behind, you used to clap back at him with the same intensity.
Sometimes you eavesdropped on their conversations, initially it wasn’t intentional, but they were always complaining about you, calling you names, and you realized your dad was right, they would never see you as a friend or equal, only as a rival.
One day you’re walking by when you hear your name in their conversation.
“Nah, don’t worry about Y/N,” Max shrugged, his accent thick, as he pointed to the side of his temple “she’s a little slow, but maybe she’ll catch up.”
You stood there, his words echoing in your head, she’s a little slow, that was a kind way to call you stupid, which, compared to the way your father called you that many times, it was much sweeter. You shouldn’t have let that get to your head, specially said that way. But then again, you were 11, and you kept hearing those words again and again in your head. You never considered yourself dumb, your grades in school were average, and whenever you had time off of karting to study for your exams, your grades became even better, a little above average.
And despite knowing that, after going back home after the competition, you spent the whole Saturday at the local library, studying everything you could find on motorsports and Formula One. You lent books on strategy, history, and even mechanics. Every spare time you had, you spent reading those books, or lending others. You didn’t want to be slow as they had called you.
After that, you stopped talking to Max completely.
“This is a waste!” Your dad shouted, and you flinched, taking a discreet step back, away from him, trying to avoid him getting physical.
You had argued with him, which made him more furious. You tried to tell him it wasn’t your fault, you were just as good at racing as everyone else, maybe better, but no one was willing to give a girl a chance. It made him even angrier.
“You had one job! You get into F4 on your first try!”
You wanted to tell him it wasn’t your fault. That they weren’t willing to give a girl a chance, even if you were better than half of the boys who made it to F4. But your dad didn’t care about any of it, he wanted you to succeed or nothing. He used to always say that anything below first place is failure.
So he decided you, at 14, weren’t worth the money he spent on karting. And he simply left. Making peace with the fact that your dad never saw you as his kid, but more like an investment, was hard.
“You’re never going to be a Formula 1 champion.” Was the last thing he said to you, before dropping you at your mom’s to never come back.
Living with your mom ever since your dad gave you up was something else. She had lost everything after the divorce, thanks to a prenup she had naively signed without knowing anything about it. So when you moved in with her, you noticed how the house was smaller than your dad’s, you two slept in the single room that was there. Your mom worked two jobs living paycheck to paycheck, and you barely saw her. But she was kind, comforting.
You soon realized that she wouldn’t be able to provide for your karting career. So you lied, you told her your dad was still paying for the karting, and you found two part time jobs to pay for racing. You mom worked so much, she didn’t notice your absence in the afternoons, when you went to work in an auto repair shop. Sometimes, on the rare occasions she was off work in the afternoons, you lied and told her you were out with friends, or studying in the library or even doing extracurriculars. You had the best intentions, you used to tell yourself at night whenever you laid awake, you knew she would blame herself or even work herself to death to provide for you.
The entirety of the next year was a constant struggle, and you worked, and scrapped and lied your way through the entire karting competition. It was one of your last chances to get into F4, and you weren’t sure you could live another year that way, without a sponsor.
When the competition ended, you were second place overall. Your kart had problems during the race and you were sad that it affected your performance in a race you could’ve won.
You walked closer as you saw a few of the other boys gathering around some adults, you eyed them curiously. As soon as you noticed who they were, you swallowed. They were probably scouts, it was very common in finals of these competitions, you were used to it. You also were used to being ignored by all of them scouts. You had tried many times before to make connections and make yourself known, maybe even meeting a potential sponsor, but they always ignored you. They weren’t interested in a girl, they didn’t care about a woman in motorsports. Your only hope was that one day you would meet a female scout and she would see your potential.
But meanwhile, there were only men, and they didn’t give two fucks about you. So you didn’t even get close enough to join, you heard Charles and Max talking with them, and you just turned around, going back to your kart.
You pulled a few tools from your backpack, working to fix the difficulties you felt during the race.
“What are you doing?” A man approached you, crouching close to watch your work. You briefly looked up, the guy was wearing sunglasses and a cap, just a normal guy, looking like someone’s dad.
“I’m fixing my steering wheel, it was a bit stuck during the race so I had to double the force used to be able to make it work,” you explained, and he nodded.
“You finished second, right? Why are you here by yourself?” The man asked.
“The other kids don’t like me very much. And they’re talking to the scouts,” you shrugged, trying not to think about all the opportunities they would get and you wouldn’t.
“You should be there, no? Meeting scouts is important for your career.”
“They’re not very interested in a girl racer. Believe me, I know.” You muttered, finishing with the steering wheel, testing to see if it was working all right. You turned, fixing your left rear tyre. The tyre wasn’t responding very well to the braking, “besides, my kart won’t fix itself, right? Look, you see how this tyre is slower to respond to my braking? It messed up with my balance during the race. I could have won.”
“Shouldn’t you take your kart somewhere to get it fixed?” The man asked, helping you unscrew the tyre.
“Can’t afford it,” you said, “I’m saving to try and get into F4, so I can’t spare any money on this one.”
You weren’t usually this talkative with new people, mostly keeping to yourself. But maybe you were missing a grownup figure in your life since your dad had dipped and your mom was always busy. And that man sounded really interested in your stuff, so it felt natural explaining to him.
“So, no one sponsoring you?” He asked, which made you look at him again, hesitantly.
“No, uh, I had one but he dropped me last year” you said, leaving out that part that it was your dad.
“You know who I am?” The man asked and you looked at him, shaking your head.
“Someone’s dad? I mean, I haven’t been introduced to all the kids and their parents yet, but you’re kinda familiar, so-” As you were babbling and trying to explain, he took off the cap and sunglasses, and you immediately recognized him, “oh my god!”
“Shh, shh” he silenced you, putting the disguise back.
“You’re Kimi Raikkonen!” You whispered, and he nodded.
“I’ll be your new sponsor, eh? What do you say?”
"Just like that?"
"Just like that," he nodded.
"How do you know I'm good enough for a sponsorship?" You asked, genuinely curious.
"Well, are you good enough for a sponsorship?" He asked. He had been keeping an eye out at that very category, and you had caught his attention as seemingly smart and emotionally controlled with the kart.
"I'm the best of the bunch," you smiled at him and you won him over with that answer.
Kimi became your lifeline, in a way. His family was quick to embrace you in an affectionate way you would’ve never expected of them. They invited you for their little New Year’s party, and you eventually told everything about your life to Kimi. His wife Minttu had also taken you as one of her own and their kids liked you a lot.
Under Minttu’s suggestion, Kimi also enrolled you in language classes, so besides English, you spent the next years learning French and Spanish, and you also caught a little Finnish from being so close to them.
You kept pushing your way up from F4 to F3 and so on, but instead of climbing it steadily like the boys, you had to win two or three times more than them to prove you were worth taking the next step.
You were 16 when your paths crossed with the boys from your childhood again. They recognised you, but they never really talked to you, so they didn't this time around either.
Coming out of the bathroom you once again caught a conversation, and you stopped dead as soon as you heard your name.
“No, not really… I don’t see her like that at all- she’s- uh-” Charles was speaking, probably looking for the words in english, “-she’s more like one of the boys.”
You paused, your breath hitched.
“Yeah,” that was Max, “I don’t see her like that either. I guess she doesn’t care about the things girls her age do.”
You felt a lump in your throat, retreating back to the bathroom. You stood in front of the mirror, watching your face as the tears fell down on your cheeks. You were dressed in your regular racing day attire, cargo pants and a sweater. You didn’t wear makeup and your hair was all frizzy because of the helmet.
The next time you went to the Raikkonen residence, you pulled Minttu aside one moment.
“I want to be pretty. Will you help me?”
You two went through a long chat with Minttu reassuring you that you were pretty in your own way and you insisting you wanted to be pretty like other girls, more feminine and girly.
When you entered F2 after the winter break, you felt and looked like some better version of yourself. Minttu had helped you set a skincare routine that was already helping clear your face from teenage acne. She also took you to a hair salon, where you trimmed your hair and made a few highlights. She upgraded your wardrobe, and even if you tried to refuse saying it was too much, she said it was a Christmas gift and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Your path until reaching F1 was slow and steady, and you were a reserve driver for two years before finally getting a seat at McLaren. You knew Kimi probably had a hand in getting you a chance, but he denied every time you asked.
Kimi told you the raw truth before the season started. He and Minttu sat you down and talked about how the world and Formula 1 would expect more of you than of any other rookie. How they would stress your mistakes tenfold. How they would diminish your achievements with the same intensity. You weren’t afraid, really.
“I’ve lived with my greatest hater more than half of my life, I can handle strangers” you had laughed to the couple.
Still, Kimi taught you everything about his Iceman persona, and told you to pick whatever you wanted from it. Minttu also convinced you to start therapy, which you accepted.
The hate started as soon as you were announced. Beyond the regular misogyny, they were calling you too old to be a rookie at 24, they were questioning your abilities even with numerous championships from other categories to back you up, even with the fact that your mentor was Kimi fucking Raikkonen. But you didn’t let any of that get under your skin.
Sebastian Vettel was quickly drawn to you, and he became your first friend in Formula 1. He had been close with Kimi from the time they were teammates, and he kinda adopted you.
The guys your age didn’t want to get too close to you. The very few times they talked or walked with you, it sparked romance rumors, and soon they pretty much ignored or avoided you. You knew their intentions weren't to be mean, they were probably just avoiding problems with the media and their girlfriends or wives, but it didn’t hurt any less every time they walked straight past you.
One of those times you were going to the group press conference and all three of the guys walked past you as you tried to chat with them. Your shoulders slumped, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.
“What was that?” You jumped at the sound of another voice. You looked behind you to see Fernando Alonso walking up to you. Up until that point, he had been polite to you.
“Oh,” you stumbled over your words, “being seen talking to me is bad press, apparently.”
“Una tontería,” he muttered, shaking his head, which made you laugh, surprised. He put a friendly hand over your shoulder and led you to the media session.
Simples as that, Fernando too became your friend.
You asked your PR manager, Amanda, to bend a few rules to make sure you would always be at the press conference with Seb and Nando or at least one of them. Most of the time, you did. But sometimes you were unlucky and had to sit stiffly through rounds of absurdly odd (and downright misogynistic) questions by yourself.
Soon you gave up on befriending the other drivers and being charming to the media. You realized the Iceman persona of Kimi looked like a good way to protect yourself from the clutches of the motorsport world. By the sixth race of the year, you gained the Lioness nickname. An agile hunter in your driving style and just as fierce in your answers.
“You’re always seen more comfortable with either Sebastian or Fernando, who are way older than you” some reporter said, “why is that?”
“I believe we’re closer in maturity age,” you said, face expressionless. You heard snickers around the room and you looked to Fernando who was visibly holding a laugh.
“So you’re saying the other drivers are immature?” The reporter pressed, but you didn’t want to talk anymore.
“No,” it’s all you answered, putting your mic down.
Everyone already thought you were arrogant, selfish, and superficial, and as you embraced your cold persona, you just fed into their assumptions. You couldn't care less, it was a good way to protect yourself, to be distant from the media who were constantly trying to drag you to the dirt. 
“You mentioned the other day that you believe you should’ve joined F1 around the time the guys your age did. Why do you think that didn’t happen?”
“Because of what’s between my legs, Brian” you deadpanned.
You had to prove yourself two or three times more than the boys every single step of the way, to get into F4, F3, F2 and now F1. You made it, you were there, between the 20 best of motorsport in the whole world… and still… Still you had to hear questions about how you managed to race with a period, questions about boyfriends, questions about hair care or skin care, or whatever. You wouldn’t mind any of that if those were common questions, if they were asked of every driver, but they were only asked of you.
“I would like to express that, from now on, I will only answer questions that would be asked of the male drivers too, about the sport, about the cars, about strategies and everything that revolves around racing,” you warned one day before the end of a media conference when someone asked if your PMS interfered in your racing.
You started to not give two fucks about the media. Every time someone asked you a misogynistic question you just stared at them and put your mic down. So those types of question died down a little bit.
“Do you think you would’ve already been world champion had you entered Formula 1 earlier, let’s say at age 19/20?”
“Yes.”
Most of the guys ignored or avoided you, but your path always clashed with Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. They always hinted at not liking you in the slightest, and the media and the fans started catching up to it, throughout your rookie year. They would shamelessly shade you, and you never backed down, giving it as hard as you got.
You walked to a reporter, still using a towel to dry your face at the post race interview.
“Did you hear what Leclerc said about your move as you left the pits?” The man asked you.
“No, I didn’t. Do I look like I care about a man’s opinion?” You said, loud and clear.
You got as many fans as you got haters, especially as you messed with Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s loud fanbases. It wasn’t really on purpose, but one of them would usually jab at you in interviews, and when word got back to you, it would anger you to no end, and you would shade them back, and in an insane amount of back-and-forths until your rivalry was in articles, the news, twitter threads, and in the mind of every single reporter in a race week.
“Verstappen talked about your overtake at lap 49, he said it was a dirty move.”
“Like he did to me back in Silverstone?” Your eyes held a mischievous glint as you scoffed, “Funny, you didn’t see me whining about it back then.”
You had the best rookie year ever since Lewis Hamilton debuted. You almost reached the same overall numbers as him, getting six podiums and your first ever Formula 1 victory. You finished the driver’s championship in fifth place, over older drivers that were literal champions of the world.
The first time Lewis Hamilton really engaged in conversation with you was during the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony by the end of the season. You were proudly smiling, holding your Rookie of the Year trophy. He had been polite to you before, but he always looked unattainable, in a way. He was beyond the world of Formula 1.
“Congratulations!” He smiled at you, sitting by your side. Your heart thrumming in your chest, trying not to fangirl too much. Sometimes it was unbelievable sharing casual conversation with legends you grew up admiring from afar.
“Thank you, Lewis. Congratulations on the championship!” You said.
“I’m sorry for not realizing most of the boys were excluding you. I chatted about it with Seb, and he told me your only friends are him and Fernando.” Lewis whispered, looking genuine, “I guess I was so focused on the championship that I didn’t bother to check on you. I’m sorry, really.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you raised your trophy, “I made it, right?”
“Succeeding despite the adversities… I see traits of a champion in you, congratulations” Lewis got up, raising his flute in a toast for you, “see you around, Lioness!”
Soon the next season you realized you had a competitive car. More than the year before. As for the first few races of the season, you had a win and podiums, which put you as a contender for the driver’s championship. Unfortunately the other people competing closely with you were none other than Charles and Max. Your rivalry had died down a bit when they noticed that you only shaded them when they provoked you first. So as their jabs became few and far between, it meant your clap backs did too.
The season was as good as it could get, that is until Monza.
You had felt the problems braking specifically during qualifying and your team tried to fix it but there wasn’t much anyone could do due to parc fermé. So you spent part of the night before the race working with your strategist to find a way around your braking problems and the best way to preserve your tyres.
The data had shown it would take a bit more strength to brake, which would eat up at your tyres quicker than usual, but other than that, everything seemed normal.
You all were wrong.
As the race went on, your brakes got progressively worse, to the point that curves were taking your body strength so much you could feel your muscles sore.
“We are considering retiring the car,” Jace, your engineer said. You inhaled, trying to calm down.
You were barely holding your P5, when you saw a Red Bull approaching you. You weren’t in position to fight, so he overtook you turning in a chicane. But your brakes didn’t work as you tried to slow down behind Max’s car, you tried not going into him but your tyres locked as you tried to avoid his rear. You drove straight into his rear, making the two of you lose control of your car. You braced for impact against the wall but luckily the gravel slowed you enough that you just touched the barrier.
After checking with your engineer, you left the car and saw Max leaving his, both DNFs.
You knew of your fame of being a reckless driver, often known for risky maneuvers and overtakes, but you never dove into someone intentionally because you knew trying to take someone out would mean yourself getting taken out too. As a marshal took you back to the garage on a motorcycle, you were ready to swallow your pride and apologize to Max for accidentally taking him out.
But as soon as you stepped down from the motorcycle, Max was in your space. His face was red and his hair all sweaty and disheveled, when he fronted you, chest to chest. You knew there were dozens of cameras pointed to you, so you tried to diffuse the tension for once.
“Are you insane?! Why did you drive into me?!” He kept advancing and for each of his steps ahead, you took one back to try and explain. But he didn’t give you a second screaming all kinds of curses and blame, “you should’ve never made it to Formula 1!”
His words were like a slap to the face, and you stopped trying to apologize or explain. You put both hands to your back, inflating your chest to face him.
“You don’t get to fucking decide that! You dipshit! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You said to his face, that’s when someone from the RedBull garage ran closer and stood between you.
You watched as he was taken away from you and inside his garage. At the same time your PT found you and walked you back to McLaren.
Changing from your race suit, you tried to cool down before going to the media. You gulped down your water as you watched Charles leading the race, and getting closer to the championship than you.
“There was an altercation between you and Max Verstappen, can you comment on that?”
“He was visibly upset with the racing incident.” It was all you said, after chatting with your PR manager before stepping out to chat with the journalists.
“And what happened at that incident? Can you walk us through it?”
“Yes, uh, we’ve been feeling something wrong with our braking system since yesterday. The data showed us it would require me to be more forceful during braking, which seemed feasible. But the brakes were wearing off during the race and we were about to retire when I completely lost the brakes. I really tried to avoid him but my tyres locked and I ended up hitting Verstappen.”
“Are you sure this accident has nothing to do with the ongoing rivalry between the two of you?” You got offended by the reporter's words.
“Of course! I would never intentionally do something to put myself or other drivers at risk. I have all the data to back me up and anyone can check my onboard.”
The FIA investigated your altercation with Max, and you ended up getting an unsportsmanlike behavior penalty. Two points in your super license.
“What the fuck?! Why the fuck would I be punished for that! There are fourteen different angles from that argument and all of them show how Verstappen aggressively came on to me first!”
It got worse when you heard that only you had gotten a penalty and Max didn’t even get a reprimand.
Everyone close to you noticed how you were on edge next week. During media day your answers were short, dry, and every single journalist seemed to want to talk about the penalty.
“Yes, I do have opinions on my penalty. But no, I won’t talk about it, only the FIA’s opinion is relevant” Your words during the press conference were enough to express a little dissatisfaction and to put an end to those questions. Everyone was surprised at the fact you chose to be quiet about the whole ordeal, they were all expecting your complaints and harsh words.
When you went back to your driver’s room, you went straight to lay your head on your mom’s lap, feeling a bit down. You stayed quiet as she ran her hands through your hair softly untangling it. She knew you were upset and why, so none of you bother to voice anything, bashing in the comforting silence.
The best thing about Formula 1 was being able to retire your mom from working, now you didn’t have to worry about her burning out and she didn’t have to worry about bills or mortgage or debts. Now she had a new, bigger and better house, everything was paid for and you even gave her a credit card for hobbies or whatever she wanted. She sometimes went to the races, but she usually stayed at home, relaxing.
“I know things are hard right now,” you mom started, her voice soft, caring, “but I know you can do it, honey. You’ve faced pushback since the beginning of this dream, but you always came out on top.”
“Thank you for believing in me.”
“You will be a world champion, honey. I know it.” She smiled down at you.
You sat up as your mom removed her watch, handing it to you.
“I wanted to give it to you on your birthday, but I feel like this is the right moment,” she turned the watch, showing you the inscription that read strong woman, and you felt your eyes water, “this was my grandma’s. She gave it to my mom, who gave it to me, and now it’s yours.”
That week you got a victory, raising your P1 trophy for your mom, who was watching you with a hand on her heart, crying happy tears.
As the season progressed the championship became even tighter between the three of you. Mere points set the three of you apart, and with each week result, the P1, P2 and P3 shifted between you. It had become one of the most competitive seasons in the sport.
When the third to last race came in Qatar, you were P3 in the championship, and you needed at least P4 in that race to keep fighting for the championship. You didn’t care about anything other than getting a podium, focused on your racing mindset, no distractions. If you only got that win, it would mean getting back that P1 in the championship and you would go down in history.
You were P3 after your last pitstop of the race, you had a small window of time to take advantage of being with new mediums while everyone else was with old softs. You had to pull ahead and open at least ten seconds, so you could become first when Max went to the pits. You had the perfect opportunity for an undercut.
That was until you overtook Charles’ Ferrari for P2. You passed him easily, he hadn’t gone to the pits yet, so he had old tyres. But you frowned as Jace warned you about Leclerc trying to take the position back. He couldn’t fight against your new tyres, everyone knew that. You accelerated to open a distance, but as you went fast into turn 4, you only felt the hit to your side, making you lose control of the car.
It was barely a few seconds that you couldn’t wrap your head around, so shocked you couldn’t brake, only feeling your stomach churn as you braced for impact. The second hit came against the barriers even harder than the first, it shook your whole body, leaving you dizzy and out of breath.
You talked with Jace, telling him in a shaky voice that you were okay but out of breath, and you unlocked your seatbelts with trembling hands. After removing your steering wheel, you tried to get up but you were dizzy and your legs felt like jelly. A marshal helped you out of the car, but as soon as your feet were on the ground, you stumbled to your knees. The nausea got the best of you and you puked against your balaclava and inside the helmet. The marshals made a small shield around you, as one of them helped you remove the helmet and balaclava, still dry heaving. The marshal gave you a towel, and you cleaned the best you could as the ambulance was coming.
You looked behind you to your destroyed car.
And just like that, you had lost any chance at the championship.
You held your tears as you went through the medical procedures and examinations. The world had been muted in the background and you could only hear the noise of the crash, visualizing your ruined car, and your dreams being crushed once again.
But as you came back to the hospitality, you found your mom, and sobbed quietly against her chest.
“It’s ok, honey. It’s okay,” her voice was so soothing and the pain meds were working, so you cried yourself to sleep while she held you.
Later that day, you watched the replay of your crash. Leclerc had gone way too close to you, but in turn 4 he hit the curbs and lost control, hitting your car right in the middle, full force. Your car had spun out a lot then hit the barriers. It was lucky that you had come out of the crash relatively unharmed, it was ugly and could’ve been a lot worse, from the way you spun and the G force your car hit the barrier with.
“You’re still watching that?” Your mom’s voice sounded in the middle of the night.
“He shouldn’t have tried to fight for the position back, he didn’t even have enough tyres for that! And he was way too close, look!”
Your mom closed your laptop, putting it on the coffee table. She took your hands in hers and smiled gently.
“I’m sorry about the championship. But I’m glad you’re okay, that was one of the scariest couple of seconds of my entire life,” she whispered, teary eyed.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, ashamed that it didn’t cross your mind how worried she might have been.
“It’s okay, honey. There’s always next year, I’m sure you will be world champion. And will be there cheering for you.”
The next week in Jeddah, you felt like the world was out to get you when they put you in the press conference with both Max and Charles, as well as Lewis and Sebastian.
“Y/N, how are you feeling after last week’s crash? It looked pretty bad.” Someone asked.
“I am doing ok, thank you,” that’s all you said into the mic.
“Unfortunately, the crash ultimately took you out of the championship, what do you say about that?”
You were so tired of that question, so tired of your PR manager talking in your head about not blaming Charles publicly, despiste your desire to scream to whoever may hear that the monegasque just wanted to take you out of the competition, so he could fight only Verstappen for the championship. You just wanted the season to be over, in all honesty.
“There’s always next year, right?” You echoed your mom's words, that were also your rehearsed answer. You looked to the side, feeling Sebastian’s hand softly on your forearm, a silent show of support.
You left as soon as it was over. You knew Charles had been trying to talk to you. You supposed it was to apologize, but you weren’t having it. You were still so angry at him that you worried you’d punch him as soon as he was in your face. So you just avoided him like the plague. You didn’t want to see him, and you couldn’t afford another punishment if you acted on your anger.
“Charles has been looking for you,” Sebastian said, walking up to you as you were finishing braiding your hair for the race.
“I have been avoiding him,” you said, not looking at Seb, still focusing on your braids.
“He just wants to apologize.”
“And I want to punch him in the face, so what? We can’t always get what we want” You clenched your jaw, using an elastic band to finish.
“Y/N…” Sebastian sounded tired.
“Don’t Y/N me. I just want this season to be over, ok? The championship was in my reach, and now it’s not. And it wasn’t even my own fault. So no, I won’t see him.”
Sebastian didn’t say anything as he walked to you and pulled you in an affectionate hug that made you want to cry again.
During the driver’s parade, Fernando acted almost as a guard dog, not letting anyone close to you. You talked with him and Lewis about the crash, explaining how it felt to you.
When the season ended, you got a third place trophy during the Prize Giving Ceremony. You remembered your dad’s words throughout the entire night. Coming down from the stage, and you met with Minttu and Kimi, they congratulated you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of failure. You looked at Charles on the stage with his P2 trophy.
“Anything other than the first is failure, right?” You sighed, eyes glued to the stage, where Max got the trophy of Champion of the World.
“What crap is that?” Kimi said, suddenly.
“My dad used to say that when I was a kid.”
“Well he was an asshole,” Kimi said matter-of-factly, “and he never made it to F1. He didn’t even make it to F4, he has no reason or power to get in your head. You were just a kid. You understand?”
“Yes, Kimi," you swallowed, feeling some kind of wheight being lifted from your shoulders. Kimi had done many great things for your life with very few words, and his succint way of being was great to pull you back to the present whenever you anxiety got the best of you.
You ended up getting the Personality of the Year award too, which was such a surprise that it worked wonders to lift your spirits and to end the season with a sweet note.
Even being in a better mood, you didn’t stay at the party too late, saying your farewell to your friends as you dropped Kimi and his wife at the hotel. You were removing your makeup after a shower when there was a knock on your hotel room door. Thinking it was an emergency, you rushed only to be faced with Charles Leclerc.
“What are you doing here?” You looked around the hall, confused.
“Can I talk to you?” Charles was still dressed in his formal attire, black tie. He fiddled with his fingers as you let him in, afraid someone might see him at your door.
“What?” You crossed your arms as you closed the door.
“I’m really sorry about the crash in Qatar,” he waited for your answer with bated breath.
“Can we have this conversation when next season starts?” You proposed. You knew you weren’t ready for that talk yet, too much anger was still clouding your judgment for a level-headed talk.
“It wasn’t my intention to take you out-” He started but you cut him off.
“Look, you’ve never liked me, I’m aware, and you cost me an entire championship, so I don’t know if I believe you.”
“It really wasn’t intentional, the accident cost me the championship as well,” you could see in his eyes that his patience was wearing thin. But so did yours.
“No it didn’t. You still had a chance even after that DNF, you just didn’t win anyway,” your anger simmered again, making you raise your voice.
“Fuck you! You treat me like this because you always felt like you were better than everyone-”
“I treat you like this?! Be fucking for real, Charles! You hate me so much you took my chance at the championship away!”
“If you had more wins during the season maybe this wouldn’t be a problem right now!”
“Unbelievable! Because you are so much better than me, all you got was second place!”
“Shut up.”
“You’ve always hated me for absolutely no reason-”
“Shut up.”
“And now you think you can barge into my room and tell me you think I’m a shitty driver? I’m not standing for-”
“Shut up!” He shouted, which was so surprising you actually stopped talking.
The both of you were breathing heavily, in one second you were sure you could strangle him, in the next, his lips were against yours and his hand gripping your hair. The kiss was nasty, all teeth and lips and tongue, his hands going down your body, pressing you into him, and your fingers tugging at his suit, ripping the buttons. You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Charles’ lips found your neck and he bit into your pulse point.
“Fuck you, Charles” you said, breathless, opening his trousers and he ripped your little sleep top with his bare hands.
It was so hot as you stumbled backwards and he followed you, tossing your top behind him, you took off his shirt and undershirt and he helped you kick out your shorts.
Charles pressed you against the wall, kissing you aggressively again, and you moaned as he placed his thigh between your legs, and you ground against him, turned on, dampening his trousers with the wet of your panties. You pressed your hand against his bulge, and he groaned, pressing into you even harder, humping like horny teenagers.
You didn’t even bother to get him naked, with his trousers half undone, you just pulled his cock out, heavy in your hands. You watched his pained expression as you spit on your hand so you could masturbate him.
“Fuck it,” you moaned, knowing grinding on him was not nearly enough.
You pulled your panties to the side, and lined his cock up into you. It was so tight as he slid into you, that your eyes rolled in pleasure, and he raised one of your legs against his waist to make room for his hips. He pulled back and snapped his hips into you again, his cock stretching you so good you were shaking. You put one arm around his shoulders holding on him and the other hand you held his ass under his loose trousers, your nails biting into his flesh as you pushed him even deeper.
“Fuck, ah-” he moaned in your ear, “so hot- putain-”
The loud, wet sounds of his hips pistoning into you were obscene. You angrily bit him, his shoulders, his chest, his jaw and he went even harder, your back hitting the wall behind you, and you pulled his hair, sweat starting to form all over your body.
“Fuck, Charles!” Your moans got even louder, and Charles stuck two fingers into your mouth, muffling your sounds as he fucked you.
He was hitting the perfect spot inside you, and it was enough for you to know you would come that way. You slapped his cheek, taking out some of your anger and he groaned, going harder. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and held your neck, pressing your torso against the wall and choking you a little bit.
“I can’t hold much longer” he warned you between gritted teeth, relentlessly fucking you.
You pinched your own nipples and it didn’t take long for you to come, your cunt clenching so hard around him, it was enough to send him over the edge too.
Shaking, the two of you slid to the floor, breathlessly lying down, half naked and sweaty.
None of you said a word.
When he was ready to go again, he put you on your knees, your torso against the mattress, and he pounded into your cunt mercilessly from behind.
The third and last time was lazy, slow missionary and he held your wrists above your head with one hand, pressed your clit with the other, sucked a few hickeys around your tits and his cock pressed over and over your g-spot.
When you woke up the next morning, Charles was still asleep by your side. You went into the bathroom and showered, hoping he would catch the hint and leave. But as you came out showered and dressed, he was still out cold. So you quietly packed your bag and left for the airport.
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ebsmind · 4 months
Text
𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭! ❀ tom blyth x fem!singer reader
summary : reader comes out with a new album and fans speculate she’s in love with a fellow british boy…
warning(s) : reader being called a slut! (slut shaming)
a/n : another installment to my taylor swift sm au!! i also got my nails done so if there’s any typos lmk!!
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ynuser GUTS out september 8th 💜
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rachelzegler THATS MY BABY!!! 👏
❤️ by creator
sabrinacarpenter i say that’s my baby and i’m proud 🥺
❤️ by creator
user1 OH HELL YEAHHHHHHHH
user2 it comes out the day before my birthday!!
user2 i love y/n’s and sabrina’s relationship sm
user3 rachel what are you doing here
↳ rachelzegler supporting MY WIFE 😋
user4 Y/N I NEED THE TRACK NAMES NOWWWWW
↳ ynuser soon bae 🫢
user5 SHES BACKKKKKK
user6 i’m so here for this OMG
tomblyth proud of you ❤️
❤️ by creator
↳ user7 hello???
taylorswift so incredibly proud of you!!! 💜
❤️ by creator
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ynuserupdates y/n rodrigo’s hiatus has come to an end!! and there’s seems to be something going on with her and tom blyth?? who is this mystery man and is this album about him??
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user1 they are SO dating
user2 idc WE’RE GETTING AN ALBUM!!!
user3 maybe a taylor feature????
user4 i’m pretty sure she wrote a song for tbosas since rachel commented too!!
↳ user5 this!!!
user6 as long as she’s happy!!
user7 we know what she’s done…probably just being a typical slut
↳ user8 girl all of that drama is in the past GROW UPPPP
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ynuser slut! music video out now!! thank you @/taylorswift for writing this with me 💜
tagged : @/taylorswift
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taylorswift forever grateful for you!! 🤍
↳ ynuser i love you!!!
user1 taylor helping her write this is so true
user2 i love women
user3 THIS IS SO ABOUT TOM IDCCCCC
user4 SHES IN LOVE YALLLLL
user5 i will NEVER forgive y’all for making her disappear from the internet just like taylor
rachelzegler she’s in love with me guys 🤭
↳ ynuser so true!
↳ tomblyth hey what about me???
↳ user6 OH ITS SO CONFIRMED
user7 SHUT UPPPPP TOMS COMMENT???
user8 MY BABY IS IN LOVEEEEE 😭😭🫶🏼
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rachelzegler to my bestest friend in the world, i’m so freaking proud of you. i’ve watched you put your heart and soul into this album, fall in love, and so much more and i could not have cherished something more 🩷 i love you @/ynuser
tagged : @/ynuser
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ynuser you literally have me crying in a club rn 😭😭 i love you sm 🫶
user1 stop i love their friendship sm
user2 the bestest friends
user3 rachel loves her sm omg
tomblyth hey that’s me!
↳ user4 pls tom 😭 y/n and rachel are having a MOMENT
❤️ by creator
user5 stop y/n and tom in the last pic 🥺
user6 rachel doing their soft launch is so real
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ynuser in a world full of boys he’s a gentleman
tagged : @/tomblyth
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tomblyth i love you ❤️
↳ ynuser i love you more 🤍
user1 my parents fr
user2 they’re so cute omg
user3 HARD LAUNCHHHH
rachelzegler it was me that got them together you guys!!
↳ user4 thank you rachel 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️
user5 i still can’t get over how y/n and taylor wrote this together knowing that they’ve experienced the same thing 🥺
❤️ by creator
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itsascreambaby96 · 11 months
Note
Could you please write a poly!ghostface X reader friends to lovers smut (w/ some fluff)
I had so much fun with this! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy it! Please leave feedback🩷
(A/N: Header by me)
Warnings: SMUT! 18+, mdni. fem!reader. Oral both female and male recieving. Name calling, pet names, p in v sex. No use if condom(be responsible please, life isn't fanfiction). Drinking. Everyone in this fic is over 18. if I missed anything please let me know.
Pairing: Stu Macher x fem!reader x Billy Loomis
Word count: 6.7k
Just the three of us
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You and Stu have been best friends since first grade. You were paired to sit together. Initially you thought he was pretty annoying. Always talking, not paying much attention and messing up your work. Little you was really ready to throw hands. Stu loved annoying you! He thought that was the best way to make friends. Taking away the pens you needed to finish your drawing in art class. Or copying your maths notes. Always asking you ridiculous questions that he knew you couldn't answer. He thought it funny how your little face scrunched up. Little Stu was a menace. But he didn't take too kindly to other kids picking on you. It almost never happened.
But when one of the older boys pushed you into the dirt one day, with your new dress, which he knew was new because he's never seen you wear it before and you told him so and were so happy about it, it was over. He didn't care that the boy was older than him, and slightly taller, he threw himself at the boy and a fight broke loose. The teacher pulled them apart. Stu was dirty but he didn't care. All he cared for was you. So once the teacher's were done with their chiding he ran to look for you. He didn't have to go very far as you were waiting for him. He thought you would snap at him but you gave him the biggest hug you could. Stu didn't know it yet but his heart skipped a beat and would do so ever since when you hugged him. Ever since then the two of you have been inseparable. He still annoyed you during classes but now you knew that he didn't mean bad by it and always had a smart comeback to his weird questions. No one could come between the two of you. 
Or so you thought. Once you two entered middle school Stu met a new friend. His name was Billy. Suddenly Stu spent every minute with him. You hated it. You tried confronting Stu but he said that you made stuff up. Of course it hurt but maybe he was right? You gave him some space, which seemed to work in your favour as you made some other friends along the way. Girl friends, which you really didn't have before. Stu hated to see that. He was supposed to be your best friend. Suddenly he kept inviting you over again, so much so that you didn't spend so much time with your girl friends anymore. You tried to make time for them but it wasn't nearly enough. Most of them didn't want to hang out with you anymore. The only real girl friend you had was Tatum. She had a lot of friends so she never minded when you didn't have time, but she was also happy when you did. 
The other down side with Stu inviting you over again was that Billy was there as well. You still didn't like him the first few times you came around. It wasn't like he was unfriendly or anything, just the fact that he stole your best friend. Stu must have talked to Billy cause the boy always made sure to be at his best behaviour around you. Making sure you started to like him. You don't really remember how it happened but suddenly it wasn't just you and Stu anymore but you, Stu and Billy. You really grew fond of Billy, you even developed a little crush on the boy at one point. Of course you never told him or Stu, for many reasons. One because you knew he didn't feel the same and two Stu would make fun of you. You also didn't want to ruin your little friend group. So you ignored it, which worked very well.
Until the summer before you guys started High School. You guys were 15 and at the Lake in the woods. You had bought a new bikini for the occasion. Stu's eyes widened as you took off your summer dress to reveal the new swimwear you bought. He was checking you out, and when he noticed his swim trunks getting tighter, he jumped into the lake immediately. He didn't care that it was cold as hell, on the contrary it helped him. When he came back up to the surface he heard your laugh and gave you his usual wide grin in return. He also noticed Billy checking you out, more subtle than him. He felt a little jealous but shook his head. That was silly. 
You guys had an amazing day at the lake, several water fights and dunking each other, the previous thoughts all gone. It was late but the sun was still up. You were dry again and laughing with your boys. You don't know how it came up but they were telling you about their first kisses. To be honest you felt a little jealous but you thought that was because you didn't have your first kiss yet. It was a little embarrassing really, though you knew there was nothing wrong with it but you kind of felt left out of a secret club, that your best friends already joined without you. You had gotten really quiet as Stu tells the story of how he had "a real makeout session" with Stacy from your Math class. Billy noticed your lack of attention and nudged you softly, asking you what's wrong with you. That also got Stu's attention. Your face grew hot as now both Stu and Billy were looking at you. You averted your gaze and told them that you didn't have your first kiss yet. Billy shrugged his shoulders.
"That's not that bad. It's not like it's a big deal." 
But that didn't really convince you. 
"If it bothers you so much one of us could kiss ya." That got your attention and you looked at Stu. 
"You are making fun of me!" 
"Babes you know I would never!"
You just raise an eyebrow at that. 
"Fine I do. But not right now. I am dead serious! Cross my heart!" He was doing the cross over his heart trying to look serious, but his eyes were full of mischief. You looked over to Billy. 
"I mean… he is not wrong. If you really wanna."
That took you even more by surprise. You thought Billy would try to talk Stu out of it but you were wrong. He was also thinking this idea was great. You contemplated it. What would be the harm right? It's just a kiss. It's not like that would change anything. Right? Right. 
"Alright."
"Really?" Stu asked, his face lit up like a childs on christmas. 
"Yeah. I mean it's just a kiss right?"
"Yeah nothing special about it." Billy said.
"So who do you want to be your first?" Stu wiggled his eyebrows. 
Your face grew hot again. Of course they were both attractive. And you had a crush on Billy once. But Stu was your best friend, you knew him longer. This gave you anxiety already. You didn't want it to be awkward with either one of them. But you also wanted this to be over. And who knows how much longer you'd have to go without kissing. You didn't want to be a bloody amateur when you got your first boyfriend.
So you decided. You stood up only to sit down right in front of Stu, who gave you a big smile. Little did you know that jealousy bubbled up in Billy at that. Though he didn't know who he was more jealous of, you or Stu. He shook his head.
"What do I do with my hands?"
"Whatever you want. You can put them around my neck or one on my face. Or you can just leave them at your side. Though that would be kinda awkward."
You nodded and so you shyly put your hands on Stu's shoulders, softly gripping them.
Your nerves were acting up as Stu slowly scooted a little closer and his face was inches from your own. You closed your eyes as you felt your lips connect. His lips were a little chapped but it didn't feel unpleasant. Then he started to move his lips, you tried to copy his movements. It wasn't perfect by any means, even a little sloppy, but you actually enjoyed yourself. You were clinging to Stu as he somehow managed to slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a little squeak, feeling Stu grin against your lips. All too soon he broke the kiss. With your eyes still closed you tried to follow his lips. Stu let out a chuckle at that and you could hear Billy clear his throat. That snapped you out of your little trance, your face incredibly hot. You looked over to Billy.
"Wanna show me what you learned?" 
Your eyes widened a little at that but you nodded nonetheless. He switched places with Stu real quick, Stu taking off his hands from your hips which you didn't even know were there. You already missed them. But they were replaced with Billy's. A little smaller than Stu's, but just as pleasantly warm. You wrapped your arms around his neck and Billy grinned, squeezing your hips a little.
"Ready?"
You nodded, smiling. Closing your eyes again as he closed the space between you two and his lips met yours. His lips were softer than Stu's, the kiss already feeling different than Stu's too. Less sloppy, as if Billy really knew what he was doing. He was easily dominating that kiss. You could really get used to kissing them. Scraping together every ounce of confidence you had you let your tongue slip inside his mouth, teasing his tongue with yours, just like you felt Stu do to you just moments ago. You could feel Billy letting out a soft sigh. Unbeknownst to you Stu was watching you two like a hawk. He wished he could join the two of you. You were getting a little lost in the feeling, your heart beating out of your chest. But Billy decided that this was long enough and broke the kiss. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked at Billy, his eyes never sucked you in more.
"I think you will be good now."
"Yeah, your future boyfriend will be really lucky." There was a slight edge to Stu's voice. But you couldn't figure out why. 
After that, conversation resumed as normal and you were convinced that was the end of that. And it was. Nothing seemed to have changed and after the summer you guys went to highschool. Still the best of friends. Both Billy and Stu started dating a few girls here and there during that time. And even you went on a few dates but you were never really in love with them. They always seemed to have a problem with how close you were with Billy and Stu. More often than not they cheered you up after another guy dumped you. You were very grateful for that. You of course were there for them too. Stu being dumped by Casey Becker was really hard on him. You had a sleepover with him the whole weekend, with Billy showing up as well in the middle of the night. As much as Stu was upset it was one of the best weekends in a long time. You guys were watching movies all night, stuffing your face with Junk Food and sweets, and talking a lot. It felt like you grew closer to them again. While you guys were sleeping you were squished between them, Stu in front of you and Billy pressed against your back. It made you feel all warm inside and you realised that you might be feeling more for your best friends than you were supposed to. You knew nothing would happen so you were just happy with what you've got.
Now it was your 18th Birthday. Initially you just wanted a chill day, maybe going to eat some pizza with your boys but Stu had a different idea. And so you were at his house, which was full of people. You were convinced Stu invited the whole school. Both Billy's and Stu's 18th birthdays were a few months ago but they didn't have this big of a party, you think. You were making your way to the couch, people wishing you a happy birthday left and right. Finally you could join Tatum and Sydney on the sofa letting out a big sigh.
"Stu really went all out for you huh?"
"Yeah. I think it's a bit much but I couldn't say no to him when he looked at me with his big puppy eyes and his stupid grin."
"So when are you going to tell him you are in love with him?"
You choked on your own saliva at that. 
"I am not in love with him."
"Sure, keep telling yourself that."
"You know I am pretty sure you are not supposed to tease the birthday girl on her birthday."
Tatum rolled her eyes playfully. 
"Whatever."
You continued talking with the two girls when suddenly Stu plopped down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.
"You having fun, pretty girl?"
You gave him a soft smile.
"Yeah. Thanks again for the party. But you know I would have been fine with it just being a chill night with you guys and some drinks maybe and a cake. By the way, why is there no cake?" You were pouting a little. The cake was always the best thing about birthdays.
Stu laughed at that.
"Don't worry. Billy is bringing the cake. And no he didn't bake it. That would go horribly." You giggled and softly hit his chest.
"I think you are confusing his baking abilities with your own."
He looked at you in fake shock.
"I am a fantastic baker, just so you know."
"Mhmh yeah and that time you let the cookies burn that were supposed to be sold at the baking sale two years ago was totally intentional."
"Totally!" You two laughed again.
A few moments later Billy came in with the cake. They lit the candles and everyone began to sing Happy Birthday to you. You hated every second of it, not knowing what to do with yourself besides standing there. Both Billy and Stu grinning, they knew you hated this kind of attention on yourself. You were relieved when you finally could blow out the candle and everyone got a piece of cake, including you. 
Billy came over to you, hugging you close. 
"Happy Birthday sweetheart."
"Thanks Billy." You always enjoyed his hugs. Other than Stu, Billy wasn't much of a hugger, so his hugs were a tad more special. Not that you disliked Stu's hugs though. Speaking of Stu, he couldn't stand being left out and so he wrapped you and Billy in a big bear hug.
"I love you guys so much!"
"How much did you have to drink already?" You were giggling. Billy, not so amused, nudged Stu rather harshly with his elbow, so Stu let go of you. 
After finishing your cake, and drinking another beer, you went dancing with your girl friends. You weren't much of a dancer usually but it's your birthday and maybe you should let a little loose here and there. So that's what you did. Soon after you felt a pair of hands on your hips, pulling you close to a hard chest. You were about to tell the person off but you recognised Stu's cologne instantly. Relaxing, you continued dancing. Getting bolder you started to dance more suggestively, swaying your hips more, going down almost to your knees and back up. When you were back up, Stu turned you around. Your arms flew around his neck, smiling up at him. You couldn't quite pin the look in his eyes but you didn't care. You craved his lips on yours. Your eyes flicked down to them and you could see them forming a lazy grin, his tongue poking out to wet them. You were mesmerised by the movement, your own lips parting slightly, making Stu's eyes flick down to then. His eyes became more hooded and his face inched closer. Your eyes were fluttering close, his breath fanning over your face, the smell of beer, which you would normally find disgusting was invading your senses paired with Stu's own intoxicating smell. The anticipation was slowly killing you. You could already feel his lips brush yours when suddenly Stu was janked back making you stumble.
You blinked your eyes open and saw him with a group of guys hollering and throwing shots back. You let out a huff, disappointment settling in. Without looking at him again you pushed past the group and went into the kitchen to get another drink. In the kitchen you found some people making out, blocking you from the counter with the drinks. Groaning, you took a bottle of water and went back to the living room. You could see Stu, he was still with the same group of guys, laughing and dancing. You just shook your head, plopping down on the couch. Your sour mood didn't last long as some Tatum pulled you up by the arms again and started dancing with you. The little incident between you and Stu soon forgotten
Some time around 1 o'clock in the morning when the last person left, you were helping Stu clean up. Billy was also there though really you were the only one cleaning up. The two boys were on the couch talking quietly amongst each other. After you finished the kitchen, you decided that the rest could be done tomorrow. Well technically today. 
You plopped down between them, not noticing the look they shared. 
"You had a great time today?" It was Billy asking you.
You nodded, smiling.
"I normally don't like big parties like that."
"But?" It was Stu's turn to ask.
"But … this was amazing. Thank you again." You put your palm against Stu's cheek, smiling softly at him. Realising how close you were to him, it reminded you of the situation earlier, making your face heat up. You had to look away, opting to look over at Billy. Which was a mistake. He gave you the same intense look you had seen on Stu earlier. You cleared your throat a little, looking away. You felt two fingers softly gripping your chin, turning your face towards Billy again, who was so much closer to you now. Your breath got caught in your throat. You were about to ask him what's wrong but before you could even form one word, Billy's lips were on you, soft yet firm. You were shocked but not in a bad way. Your eyes fluttered close and you were melting against Billy. Completely forgetting that Stu was right behind you. Billy's lips moved against yours with determination, his tongue slipping inside your mouth soon after. You were so lost in the kiss that you at first didn't notice that Stu began to pepper your neck with kisses. Only when he started to suck a mark onto your soft skin did you realise, letting out a breathy moan, leaning against Stu now.
Billy parted from you, making you almost whine. He grinned at that,  taking a quick look at you. Your eyes were closed, now biting your lip as Stu still worked on the one side of your neck. Your eyebrows were pulled together in pleasure. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, even more so when Billy began to kiss the other side of your neck. One of Stu's hands creeping you to one of your boobs, groping and squeezing the soft flesh. A breathy moan left you. The both of them were driving you wild. You were gripping at Billy's shirt, making him bite into your neck. One of his hands was working on your pants, slipping a hand inside of them once it was opened. His hand dipped into your panties and he let out a pleased hum.
"My my, already drenched and we barely did anything to you yet sweetheart. 'S that all for us?" Billy spoke against your neck, leaving goosebumps. 
You quickly nodded your head, a breathy "Yes" left your lips. You could feel Stu grinning against your neck. 
Billy slowly dragged a finger through your wet folds, making you squirm in Stu's grip. After a little more of this teasing, having coated his fingers in your juice, Billy slipped one of his fingers inside of your dripping hole. Your mouth opened in a silent moan,  Stu's hand grabbing your boob harder. Billy began to slowly fuck you open with his finger. Your head fell against Stu, one arm behind you, around Stu's neck, gripping him at the nape of his neck, the other hand still fisting Billy's shirt. You tried to muffle your moans, which soon flew out of the window as Billy added a second finger soon after. You had sex before but those guys never fingered you. Heck even the sex with them was nothing compared to what Billy could do to you with his two fingers. You wondered, if this is how good his fingers could make you feel, how amazing must it feel to be really fucked by him. 
Billy's intense gaze never left your face as he fucked you with his fingers, his pants were growing tighter by the minute, he knew Stu was in much the same position. Billy started scissoring his fingers, his thumb soon joining in to play with your clit. You started withering, but lucky for you and Billy, Stu had a tight grip on you. He had resumed sucking hickey's onto your neck. 
"I always knew you were tight. But fuck this is even better than I imagined. Can't wait to stuff you full with my dick." 
Billy's words only made you more wet, if that was even possible. Even with your pants still on you could hear the squelching sound your pussy made, feeling Stu's hard dick press into your lower back told you he liked what he was hearing too. Your skin felt so hot, one could think you had a fever, a soft sheen of sweat on your forehead and your cleavage formed. Stu wanted nothing more than to lick it off of the swell of your boobs. 
Suddenly Billy removed his fingers, making you whine in protest. Both boys chuckled at that. 
"What's the problem, pretty girl?" Stu's tone was mocking, but it only made you hornier. You didn't dare speak.
"Cat's got your tongue?" Billy's voice didn't sound any less taunting. You looked at them both pleadingly. Billy pulled his hand out of your pants, ready to lick his fingers clean, but Stu stopped him, gripping Billy's wrist. Stu leaned forward and closed his mouth around Billy's fingers, holding eye contact with the other one. Billy let out an audible breath through his nose. Your mouth dropped open as you watched the two. It made you realise that this was definitely not the first time these two have fooled around. You felt a bit honoured that they felt comfortable enough to show you this. Once Stu seemed satisfied he popped Billy's fingers out of his mouth, making a show of licking his lips. 
"Delicious." He kept grinning. Billy gave you a quick glance, before his eyes locked back onto Stu. He gripped the boy's shirt and pulled him closer, making you fall a little to the side, as their lips connected. You could see that it was all tongues and teeth, both of them groaning. Billy could taste you on Stu's tongue and it was driving him crazy. They parted and you could see a string of saliva connecting them. They grinned at each other, then their gaze turned back to you, making you feel even hotter than before. Their look was almost predatory, making you gulp. In a matter of seconds they removed your clothes and you were back against Stu's chest, sitting almost at the edge of the couch. Billy was sitting in front of you, having a perfect view at your glistening folds. 
"Damn, Stu wish you could see this. Most perfect little pussy I have ever seen." Billy couldn't take his eyes off of it. You were squirming under Billy's gaze.
"Please Billy."
"Did ya hear that Billy? I think our precious girl wants something." You looked up at Stu, pleading with your eyes.
"I did hear. Though I am not sure what exactly it is that you want. Tell us Princess. Don't be shy."
"Yeah, don't be shy now."
You swallowed, grabbing onto every ounce of confidence and self control you still owned. 
"Could you please put your mouth on my pussy Billy?" Your voice came out weaker than anticipated. You were afraid he didn't hear you, making you repeat yourself. But he did.
"Aw, of course, pretty girl. Can't leave the birthday girl hanging now, can I?"
You shook your head fast. Billy gave you one last grin, before diving in. Your hands gripped onto his hair in seconds. You always knew his mouth was good but this exceeded your expectations. You didn't care if your moans sounded pathetic, you only knew how good it felt having Billy suck on your clit, having two of his fingers in your pussy again. You were basically grinding against him, one of his hands squeezing your thigh. That would definitely leave a bruise you were sure, but you didn't mind in the slightest. Stu turned your face to the side so he could kiss you. Moaning against his lips as you could feel Billy switching it up, his thumb now rubbing your clit as his tongue was deep inside of you. 
Stu on the other hand was kissing you like his life depended on it. There was nothing of the uncertainty he had when you guys first shared your first kiss. But still sloppy, in a different kind of way. His tongue was massaging yours, one of his hands on your boobs again, toying with your nipples. He was biting your lip, almost drawing blood, making you squeal. 
Billy was looking up, groaning at seeing the two of you kiss. Your grip on his hair getting tighter by the second and he could feel your gummy walls clamping around his tongue. He began to lick and suck at your harsher. He desperately wanted to see you fall apart for him and Stu. You had to part from Stu with a gasp, breathing in deep. Stu pulled at your bottom lip. Your eyebrows were creased together. You were so close. Looking down at Billy you swore his eyes were glinting. He knew you were going to come, you could tell. Your lips were swollen, from the kiss with Stu, who was still playing with your nipples. Pulling and squeezing and twisting, the pain of it so pleasurable. This, paired with Billy's relentless mouth on your dripping pussy, seriously you were sure you would be dripping on the floor, wouldn't it be for Billy sucking it all up, were enough to send you flying over the edge. A high pitched moan left your lips, your thighs clamping around Billy's head, your hips lifting off of the edge of the sofa as your orgasm crashed through you. It has never felt so intense before. Stu was holding you close as Billy helped you ride out every last drop of your pleasure. 
Stu softly pecked the side of your head when you finally calmed down. Billy didn't waste a drop of your juice and you had to push his head away from you, releasing him from between your thighs. His chin and lips were wet from your arousal. His eyes almost black. He made a show of licking his lips and you could feel Stu shuffling behind you. 
Billy was the first to speak. "You ok sweetheart?"
You nodded. "I'm fucking fantastic." He gave you a cheeky grin. 
"Do you wanna continue orrrrr…" Stu spoke up behind you.
You chuckled breathless. "Definitely continue." 
Billy stood up helping you stand up on shaky legs. He gave you a cheeky grin at that, making you swat his chest, giggling. 
When Stu stood up he didn't waste a second to throw you over his shoulder, giving your ass a slap, groping it right after. He made his way up the stars, Billy right behind the two of you. 
Inside the room, Stu threw you onto the bed, making you bounce. Both of the boys looking at your boobs. You almost wanted to cover up from their intense staring. Stu was the first to snap out of it, removing his clothes, almost tripping as he took off his pants. His erection slapping against his lower stomach. You moaned quietly at the sight, biting your lip. The tip was a deep pink, already leaking precum, there was a slight curve upwards. He was definitely longer than your previous boyfriends and just a tad bit girthier. 
"Like what ya seeing babe?" He gave you a grin, but you couldn't see any of his usual silliness shine through. All you could see in his eyes was hunger. And you were pretty sure you were his next meal. He came stalking over to you, taking both your ankles into his hand he pulled you closer to him, making you lie down on your back in the process. As he crawled over you, you wrapped your legs around him, making him feel your wet heat on his throbbing dick. 
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." He was almost growling.
"Then let's not waste any more time, yeah?" Your voice was dripping with excitement. Stu gave you a quick but forceful peck before lining up with your heat. He was rubbing his tip between your folds. Both of you were mesmerising as he slowly pushed inside of you. The both of you are moaning in unison. 
"Fuck Billy's right. 'S the most perfect little pussy. Shit you're grippn me so tight."
"Stu please move."
You were trying to rock against him but he was gripping your hips so hard there would definitely be handprint bruises. No chance of moving. 
"Shit wait a sec babe, don't wanna bust too soon. You feel so good around me."
You could hear a scoff behind you. Craning your neck you could see Billy standing on the other side of the bed. Naked. Your eyes immediately go to his dick. He was definitely girthier than Stu, not as long tho. His tip also a bit darker than Stu's. 
"What are you a fucking virgin Stu?" Billy was teasing.
"Shut up man, you wouldn't be able to control yourself either." 
With that Stu began to almost pull out entirely making you whine, which soon turned into a loud moan as he snapped his hips back into yours, sending you moving along the bed. Your head getting closer to Billy's dick as he was still standing on the edge on the other side. Stu's pace was relentless, reaching so deep inside you, you swear you could almost feel him inside your throat. He didn't hold back with his moans either. Ever the vocal type no matter what. You didn't mind though, it let you know that he was enjoying himself. Billy shuffled a little closer, gripping his dick. You were already salivating at the thought of having him inside your mouth. He twirled his tip on your lips, coating them in his precum. 
"Open up sweetheart."
You didn't need to be told twice, open your mouth eagerly. Billy gave an appreciative hum as he slowly slid into your mouth. You were gagging a little but still wanted more. 
Stu was still snapping into you, watching as you swallowed Billy's cock. 
"Damn you really are an eager little slut huh?"
Stu's speech was slightly slurred, completely drunk on your pussy. Billy was slowly fucking your mouth, tears were welling up in your eyes. You were loving every second of this. His hands gripped your boobs, squeezing them, using them as leverage too. They were making you see stars, especially when Billy pushed himself all the way in, holding you there for a few seconds. Stu groaned seeing your throat swell around Billy's dick. He couldn help but touch it. Then Billy pulled out, letting you take a breath. You were gagging, tears streaming out of your eyes. Once you inhaled enough air again you pulled Billy back in, eagerly taking him back into your mouth. Bobbing your head best you could in this position, sucking on the tip every time you came up. Stu started to rub circles on your clit, making you clamp down on him.
He let out a breathy "Fuck." You were growing closer by the second. You could tell by Stu's sloppy thrusts that he was nearing his end too. Billy started to throb inside your mouth. He was ready to pull out and came all over your tits but you had a different plan. Pulling him back in. Billy groaned at your eagerness, coming down your throat almost instantly. You swallowed everything eagerly. Then he pulled out, with a satisfied hum. He softly strokes your cheek, bending down to give you a peck. Then he left to go get everyone some water to drink.
Stu gripped your cheeks, squeezing them and kissing you hungrily, still drilling into you. You were whimpering, so close now. He was still rubbing your clit and your legs began to shake and you came, with a high pitched scream. With a loud groan Stu followed right behind you and came deep inside of you. Riding out both of your orgasms, your legs still shaking. He came to a halt, dropping on top of you, making all air leave your lungs. You had half a mind telling him to get off, but it was actually nice to have his weight on top of you. You wrapped your arms around him, softly scratching his back. He was letting out satisfied hums.
"Am I interrupting?"
You hadn't noticed Billy entering the room again. His voice had an edge to it. 
"Don't be silly. Come here."
Your voice, a little scratchy, was still soft when saying this. 
He let out a huff but still came over to the bed. Stu finally moved, pulling out of you and laying down beside you. Billy took his place on your other side, giving you an open water bottle that you could drink. You gave him a thankful kiss and you could swear he was actually blushing a little at this, like he hasn't just eaten you out like a starved man and fucked your throat moments ago. You were gulping down the water while Billy cleaned you up between your legs with a rag. Once he was done he threw it to the side not caring where it landed really.
You were snuggling up to him, Stu close behind you, enjoying the comfort of the post orgasmic bliss. You closed your eyes, very tired now. You guys should talk about what just happened and what it meant for your friendship but you were too tired. 
You were almost asleep when suddenly Stu jolted upward. "Oh!"
"Shit! What?!"
You almost had a heart attack. 
"We forgot to give you your birthday present!I'll be right back!"
With that he was out of the bed walking downstairs to get your present. 
"Is he serious now? That could have waited till morning"
You dropped your head onto Billy's chest.
Billy just shrugged. 
Stu came back in with a big smile on his face, jumping onto the bed.
You were sitting up, the blanket dropping into your lap. Revealing your chest, distracting Stu again. You giggled and gently lifted his head again.
"Concentrate Stu."
"Right, sorry. They are just -" He made a motion with his hands towards your boobs.
You rolled your eyes playfully. 
"He is not wrong, you know?"
You giggled.
Stu gave you a little box adorned with a bow.
"You didn't have to get me anything you know that right?"
"Oh we know."
"Yeah but we wanted to. So just enjoy it and say thank you." Billy nudged you. 
You gave them both a kiss. "Thank you."
Smiling softly you opened the box, revealing a delicate bracelet with two charms on it. 
"Get it? The charms represent Billy and me!" Stu was so excited. 
"That is so sweet!" You were  touched. 
"I knew you'd like it!" Stu threw an arm around your shoulder. 
"See? This is me and this is Billy."
He pointed to the little headphones first. It was rare to see him without them and his cd player these days. Then he pointed at the little knife, with a drop of gemstone blood in it. Definitely Billy. He was obsessed with horror stuff.
"It is perfect. Thank you so much."
And you meant it. Billy put it on for you and you looked at it adoringly. You put your arm down and looked at them both happily. 
"Soooooooo…"
"So?"
"I mean I guess I just wanna know what this means for our friendship?"
"Well we should upgrade it."
"To what?"
"A relationship. Duh." Stu said it like it was the most obvious thing.
"You sure?"
"Sweetheart, we've wanted you for ages."
You looked at Billy like he grew a second head.
"You did?!"
"Yeah. You never noticed?"
Shaking your head you looked at the both of them. 
"Guess you are stuck with us now."
Stu grinned from ear to ear.
You rolled your eyes smiling. 
"Like I wasn't before."
"Yeah but now it will be even harder for you to get rid of us."
"Good thing I wanna keep you both."
"Mh. You better." Billy was smiling but there was something else to his tone. You almost wouldn't notice. And you didn't but Stu did, keeps grinning. 
"Of course. I would be lost without you!" You held the back of your hand against your forehead for dramatic effect, giggling. 
Billy groaned playfully. "Damn what have I gotten myself into?"
You and Stu shoved him, laughing until a yawn interrupted you. 
"Alright you two. It's time to get some sleep."
"Yes dad." Stu was rolling his eyes. 
"Damn Stu I didn't know you were into that." You began laughing again.
"Oh you will be surprised about all the things I'm into."
He gave you a mischievous grin. Biting your lip you grinned as well.
"Can't wait to find out."
"Ok stop it you two horny fuckers."
" Pf.  Just you wait until you find out what Billy's into. He actually loves it when he can ca-" Stu couldn't finish the sentence, as Billy hit him across the head.
"Ow!"
"Sleep. Now. We can get into kinks another time." With that Billy was laying down.
"I can't wait. You will be surprised what I'm into." You hummed and got comfy next to Billy, who put an arm around you.
Stu was bouncing next to you.
"Ohhh is it something freaky?"
"Stu…"
"No, now you got me curious!"
"Stu."
"I won't be able to sleep! Give me a hint! Please!" He was basically begging now.
You rolled your eyes. 
"It might involve getting nicked with a knife. Now come here and sleep, I won't say more."
You could feel Billy tensing up a bit, not knowing that this little bit of information riled him up again. Stu's mouth had dropped open. Not believing what he heard. Now he was really intrigued. You could feel he was about to say something else so you stopped him before he could.
"Sleep. Now." 
Stu cuddled close behind you. You were out like a light in seconds.
Stu and Billy looked at you.
"We really hit the jackpot with her."
"Totally!"
Billy was almost asleep when Stu spoke up again.
"You think she would let us carve an S and a B into her? Small ones of course. Maybe on her hip."
Billy groaned at that, now the idea will be stuck with him. But that was a conversation for another time.
5K notes · View notes
marvellous1917 · 10 months
Text
Icarus Falling
(Part 2)
Pairing: mob!Bucky x female!tattoo artist!reader
Summary: It’s gonna be a busy day. Giving a tattoo to a mobster that broke into your home was nothing compared to the fact that you can’t stop thing about how fucking hot he is.
Warnings: lots and lots of swearing, mention of crime (duh), fights, broken bones, tattoo needles, threats, think that’s it.
Part one ⬇️:
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A/N: AAHHHH the response to part one was actually insane!!!! I hope this second part is good enough. Love u all <3
———————
Bold is reader’s thoughts.
Italics is Bucky’s thoughts.
The size of the tattoo is in inches.
———————
Walking to the shop, your thoughts were running a mile a minute. Holy fuck, what the fuck, did last night actually happen?, James Barnes is gorgeous and made falling asleep last night really fucking difficult, screw him for making me all hot and bothered. Asshole. But one persistent one came screaming to the front- how the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank?
Unfortunately there was not a lot of time to come up with an answer to that, the shopfront coming into view as you turn the corner. Jigsaw Ink stood proud in the middle of the busy Brooklyn street, the black paint of the walls in stark contrast to the pastel pink of the florists’ to one side and the baby blue of the cafe the other.
The shop was a second home to you, the couch at the front becoming a bed for you sometimes after a night out, or if Caleb was being an ass. Frank was nice enough to let you crash when you needed, trusting you with his business. Frank, and the other two artists at the shop, Billy and Curtis were like family - a weird combination of protective older brothers and best friends who were terribly bad influences on you.
The bell on the door rang when you opened it and there was a yelled “Y/N? That you?” from a deep voice at the back of the room.
“Yeah Frankie, it’s me. I thought Billy was supposed to be here, not you?” You yelled back, moving behind the counter toward your station, dropping your bag and taking off your jacket.
“He was, but he managed to get his ass knocked out last night so he’s taking the day off,” Frank replied laughing, walking out from the back towards you.
“What? Is he ok?” You ask, giving Frank a hug when he got closer.
“Managed to piss somebody off at a bar, not really sure what happened, but he’s fine. Just stupid,” he replied, patting your back as you release him.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy but he is an idiot I swear, you can guarantee it was his fault as well,” you say.
Frank chuckle and nods as a response, “yeah I bet. Hey , you got many appointments today?” He asks.
Shit. How the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank Castle - literally the most protective man on earth - that I had to move all of my appointments to next week because a damn mobster broke into my house and demanded I gave him a tattoo today.
“…uh. No just the one, I had to move the rest,” you answer, praying to whoever was listening that Frank wouldn’t ask any questions.
“Why’s that?”
Fuucckkkk.
“Umm..no reason really..” your mind went completely blank, the only thing running through you head were those goddamn blue eyes.
“Kid, what’s going on?” Franks’ eyes narrowing, seeing straight through your bullshit response.
Ughhh. Change the subject right now. “Y’know you call me kid all the time, you’re not that much older than me Frankie. I mean there’s only-”.
“You’re ramblin’ kid. The fuck is going on?” He says, all sense of humor him from his voice.
Ah, there his is, protective Frankie coming in full force.
“Shit. Ok so here’s what happened-” you tell him the full story, coming home from work to see a dangerous criminal chilling in your apartment, the fear that came with that lovely surprise, Caleb’s debt, the weird philosophical conversation, the tattoo talk. All of it.
Of course, excluding the part where you found yourself extremely attracted to the fucking mobster, his weirdly slightly comforting presence, and the fact that the memory of those blue eyes where all you could see as your hand slipped between your legs before you fell asleep.
To be fair to the man, Frank listened to every word you had to say, not interrupting one. But you could see on his face every single emotion he was feeling, the main one being just straight up confusion.
“Lemme get this straight. The fucking Winter Soldier broke into your house last night and is coming in for a tattoo in..” he checked his watch as he spoke, “..an hour?”
“..yeah.” Hit the nail on the head there Frankie.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his hand over his face in an act of desperation.
“Yep.” You say, patting his arm to try and reassure him.
“Alright, I’m gonna be here the whole time, don’t you worry about that kid. You’re gonna be fine.” He assures you, obviously worried about you.
“I know that Frankie, and if it’s any consolation, he didn’t seem all that bad.” You answer.
“Not that bad?!” He almost shouts, and incredulous look on his face, “Y/N he’s a fucking gangster. He’s fucking danger-“
“FRANK!” You yell, the only way to cut off his tirade before it starts. “I know that, but last night he didn’t do anything bad,okay, and if he wanted to hurt me, he definitely would have done it by now. I’ll be fine Frank, I’ll just give him the tattoo and that will be it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta set everything up.” You say, moving back to your station, beginning to grab everything you need.
“Holy fuck kid, how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?” He whisper shouts, running one hand up and down his head.
“I’m not sure. I think…I think I trust him not to hurt me. It’s weird, but my gut’s telling me I’ll be fine.” You answer, starting to print some different sized stencils.
“Kid your brain is brok-” Frank starts to say but he’s cut off by his phone ringing. He pulls it from his pocket and says “Shit, it’s my kids’ school, I gotta take it.”
You wave him off, Frank answers the phone with a sigh.
He walks off to the back of the shop, leaving you to finish setting up your station. Frank talks for a minute and wander back towards you.
“My girl got into a fight at school, Maria’s busy at work so I’ve got to go get her,” he says, dragging his hands down his face, in a way only an exasperated father could.
“Oh my god is she ok?” You ask.
“She’s fine, but apparently she broke some little shitheads nose for picking on her friends,”
“Like father, like daughter then,” you respond with a laugh.
“Can the people I care about stop getting themselves in dangerous situations for like five goddamn seconds.” Frank says, throwing a pointed glare your way.
“Frankie, how many times, I’m gonna be fine alright, go get your kid and -I dunno- take her out for ice cream, tell her she did good.” You say, pushing him to the door.
“Only if you’re one hundred percent certain you’ll be fine.” He says, already pulling his jacket from the hook.
“I’m good I swear, now go!”
“Ok ok I’m going, stop pushing me” he says, leaving the shop and letting the door fall closed behind him, the bell ringing as it did.
Only a minute passed before your phone pinged with a text.
James:
Have you already forgotten about me that quickly doll?
Send me the address to the shop
Now… please
Fuck me. Why does just his text give me fucking butterflies. Ugh. How irritating.
You send him the address and his response is cheeky as shit.
James:
See you at 1 doll, you better be wearing something pretty for me.
Little shit.
————
You had the music in the shop bumping, using it to help calm your pounding heart, adrenaline starting to get the best of you. Your favourite song came over the speakers so you turned it up and started to dance a little, knowing that you had at least 10 minutes before Barnes turned up. Unfortunately this action caused you to miss the ringing of the bell on the door.
Holy shit - ink and a show, today is going better than expected already.
Bucky slowly let the door close, trying not to disturb the dancing girl he couldn’t get out of his head. He lent against the wall, just watching and waiting…and staring.
Shaking out your hands to get rid of any nerves, you turn and nearly scream when you see Barnes stood at the door.
“Oh god, sorry I didn’t hear you come in,” you say, subtly looking him up and down and damn he looks good. Ever the powerful mobster, he wore a black suit, his black shirt had no tie and was unbuttoned at the top. His hair was slicked back from his face, opposite to how it was the night before. This was the other side of him, the business man - James Barnes: the face of multiple charities, the man that law enforcement could never seem to put behind bars. Last night you met the threat, the assassin, and you may be one of the first in his history to survive a meeting with the Soldier.
“No problem doll, I was enjoying the show,” he says, pushing off of the wall and stalking towards you.
Oh my god, “oh..ok, well I have everything set up and ready so if you’re ok to start I say let get going,” you respond, turning to the part of the shop where your station was, nerves flooding back, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.
“Damn girl, not even any small talk?” He asks, slowly following you to the table.
“Oh sorry, I would have asked how your day has been so far, but I didn’t want you to think I was prying into your business. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being disrespectful ab-”
“Ramblin’ again doll, thought I told you that you don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said softly, sounding genuine. “I know what people say about me, I understand why you would be nervous, but I just ask you to not believe everything you hear, ok doll? I’m not who they say I am.” His tone was gentle, almost tired but still pleading, hoping you believe him.
“So you’re not a mobster?” You ask, voice low and calm.
“Oh no I am,” he responds with a small laugh, “I am, and I do what gangsters do. But I am not the ruthless animal I’m made out to be, doll I’m just not. I do what needs to be done.”
His voice breaks slightly on the pet name. His tone is so sincere and tired. Oh my..he’s telling the truth. It actually affects him to hear that about himself.
“Ok,” you respond, siting on your stool next to your station and the table, looking up at him with no fear in your eyes, trusting his words.
“Ok? That’s your response?” He asks, moving around the table to sit on it directly in-front of you.
“Yeah. What did you want me to do Barnes, not believe you?” You ask, all fear gone from your voice.
“Of course not,” he says, confusion laced in his voice, his eyebrows furrowed, “but I wasn’t expecting you to believe me immediately, shit you were scared of me like a minute ago.”
“I know but I think I trust you? You haven’t done anything to me, y’know other than breaking into my apartment. I trust you when you say you’re not someone I should be afraid of.” You answer truthfully.
“…good.” He says, at a loss of what to say next.
“Good. So, Barnes, are we doing this or what?” You ask.
“Yeah let’s do it doll, and please, call me Bucky.” He responds, shrugging off his jacket, folding it and placing it on the head of the table. You had to make a conscious effort to not stare at the way his arms filled out his shirt, but damn it was hard. He sat silently waiting for you to talk.
“Ok..Bucky.. tell me about what size and what placement you want for this.” You say, “I printed some sizes out because I wasn’t sure what size you wanted, and I can reprint or adjust it based in what you want.”
“Oh you a real professional, huh? Not gonna lie to you doll, that serious voice is kinda getting me goin’” he says, smirk on his face, leaning back on his arms, lifting his hips and moving slightly on the table.
Fuck me, what is this man doing to me? He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s talking again.
“I want to get it on my forearm, the inside, and I think that size looks good,” he says, pointing to the 10x8 you printed.
“Ok that sounds good, which arm were you thinking?”
Silence. He stares down at you, an unreadable look on his face. You break eye contact and then freeze.
Shit. Shit. You dumbass. Which arm? Which fucking arm? Are you kidding? I can literally see his metal fucking hand. Oh dear god.
The silence between you goes on for entirely too long. You’re not sure whether you should apologise or wait for him to speak first. You weren’t sure if he would be offended, having a reminder of his injury.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just continues to stare down at you, that blank look on his face. Looking back up at him, you start to apologise but the words get caught in your throat. His eyes. He couldn’t control them the same way he did his face, tons of different emotions flowing through them, none lasting long enough for you to understand before another one took its place.
If only you knew what he was actually thinking. She asked which arm. She knows about my arm, everyone does, but she still asked. She forgot. The arm is all people see, a weapon, an instrument used to inflict nothing but pain. It’s all people see, but she forgot. That’s not what she sees. Maybe…maybe she just sees me.
He’s shuts his racing thoughts down, fully aware of how awkward the silence was becoming. “I’m thinking my right arm might be a little easier for you doll,” he says, an amused look crossing his face, his tongue poking his cheek.
You open your mouth to apologise for your mistake but he holds up his right hand and says, “and please, you don’t have to apologise like I know you’re going to, we’re all good darlin’.”.
He’s gotta stop with the pet names before I melt.
“Ok, uh, are you sure, because I honestly meant no disrespect or anything. I-,” you start, but Bucky cut you off quickly.
“Darlin’, what did I just say?” A stern tone coats his words and goddamn does it send a shiver down your spine. You internally roll your eyes and look away, back to your station, when you feel two warm fingers on your jaw, turning your head back to looks at him. Holy fuck. He places his thumb on the other side of your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him as he leans in closer. His voice was low when he said, “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Y/N, what did I just say?”
Jesus fucking wept. Somehow his use of your name made your heart pound, and the fact that his hand was so warm and strong holding onto your face.
“You said we’re all good..” you answer trailing off at the end of your sentence. His eyes don’t move from yours for a second.
“And?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.
Christ alive.
“I don’t have to apologise..” you say, eyes flicking between his and falling to his lips for a second and then back to his eyes.
“That’s right darlin’,” his eyes dropped to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lip. “So stop, okay?” He says, lifting your chin to catch your eye.
“Yes sir.” It’s an automatic response but you can’t help but be a little proud of yourself when he lets out a small throaty growl at the name.
“Careful doll.” He responds, letting go and leaning back, “How about we get started before I do something you regret, hmm?”
Like I could regret you.
You turn back to your station to try and clear your head of all the dirty thoughts running wild. “Ok.. Bucky, if you could roll up your sleeve so I can wipe the area, I’ll place the stencil and you can check if it’s where you want it to be.” You say, not used to the name he said to call him by.
“Mhm,” he hums, releasing the cuff link on his right sleeve, his prosthetic catching the glare of the light above, the plates shining. He places the cuff link in the pocket of his jacket and begins rolling up his sleeve and folds it at his elbow.
You clean the area and place the stencil straight on his arm, and peel it off.
“There’s a mirror on the wall over there, you can check if it’s alright.” You say.
“Okie dokie doll,” he responded the furrowed his brows, like he was confused at why he said that, not very gangster of him.
I like him. He says okie dokie.
“Looks good there darlin’, and as much as I hate to say it, we gotta speed this up a little, I’m expecting a call at some point around 2:30 and I’d prefer you not have to hear it.” He says, coming back to the table, sitting down and swinging his legs up onto it.
You take his arm, putting it on the rest in a position easiest for tattooing while saying “Why’s that? Would you have to kill me if I overheard your call?” You ask, enough humor in your voice for him to know you’re joking.
“Probably, depends how much you hear.” He said, completely deadpan. He looks at you and you have the strangest feeling that he actually wouldn’t hurt you either way.
“Shit ok. Is that position comfortable for you?”
“I’m all good darlin’, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his position on the table slightly. His left arm rests across his stomach as he sits on the table, leaning against the backrest, his ankles crossed.
“Ok I’m gonna do a small line so you know how it feels,” you look at him and he nods. You draw a line about 2 centimetres long then stop, “how’s that?” You ask.
“Ain’t nothin’ doll, keep goin’.” He responds.
“Ok here we go.” You say, getting back to it.
————
You’ve been tattooing for about 40 minutes, and there hasn’t been a word spoken between the both of you. His arm kept flexing whenever you moved away, and he kept clenching his jaw, like he was in pain but was refusing to admit it, even to himself.
“Are you ok? We can stop for five if you want a break? I’ve just finished the outline so I’ve got to change needles anyway.” You ask, disrupting the silence between you, moving the machine away from his arm so you can switch to a higher grouping for the blackwork.
“I’m fine Y/N, how much longer do you think it’ll take?” He asks, moving his head to look at the outline that you had completed.
“Oh it’s hard to say, but probably another 30 at least,” you respond, looking at him while he was admiring the tattoo so far.
God he’s pretty.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his forehead with his other hand.
“Are you worried about your call?” You ask calmly.
“Not worried about the call itself… just having to do it here may cause some issues.” He responds, lowering his hand to his thigh.
“Because I’m here? I can go to a different room if you want?” You say, placing the machine back on your station, and turning to look at him fully.
“It’s ok doll, to be honest with you, nothing that needs to be said will make any sense to you anyway, and I mean that in the least offensive way possible.” He says, looking at you with apologetic face, tilting his head slightly. “But depending on the news I get, I wouldn’t want my reaction to… scare you.”
“Oh.. well I guess we’ll see when your call comes.” You answer, unsure of how to react to that.
————
The sharp ringing of his phone interrupts the sounds of the machine. You move the machine away from him, turning it off so he could speak freely without noise.
“I really am sorry about this darlin’, but it’s important-”
“Answer it then, it’s fine Bucky.” You cut him off, concerned he was going to miss it if he kept talking.
He gave you another apologetic look, and then turned his back to you to get off the table and answer the call.
You sat in silence as he started to speak.
“Rogers, what did ya find?” His voice changes from how he speaks to you, deeper and more serious.
The person on the other line speaks for a moment before Bucky responds, “we already knew that, didn’t we? What new information did you find?”
Silence.
“Of course he is..,” there is anger in his tone now, “get someone to tell the asshole he can threaten what he likes, I’m not sitting down with him.”
A moment goes by and you think that may have been the end of it, until you see his shoulders tense and-
“FUCK NO!” He shouts, making you jump a little.
“No Rumlow Gets Nothing, I don’t give a shit what he’s doing… Then send the commissioner a goddam gift basket Steve, some portraits of his family would be nice, remind him why he pays us the fucking protection fee.” He seethes at the man down the phone.
This should not be turning me on, shit.
“For fucks sake… Walker is nothing Steve, just some fucking Nazi junkie with a rich daddy, trying to get his hands on my shit…get Nat to bring his ass in, I’ll deal with it Steve… I said I’d deal with it.”
His tone on the last sentence sends a shiver down your spine, what the fuck does ‘deal with it’ mean?
“Ah shit is he ok?” Bucky asks, tone soft now, caring even, “Damn, he’s gonna be out for blood now.. good for him.. give Clint the week off, find the guys and give the pricks to him, let him get out some of his pent up craziness out.”
Oh Clint sounds fun.
“Ok, alright I gotta go now man. Yeah I’m at the shop… nah it’s nothing..yeah ya did… ok fuck off now.. later man.”
He hangs up the phone, takes a death breath and pinches the place between his eyebrows, his other hand going to his hip. He stands like that before he turns back to you, with a small awkward smile. That was cute.
“Sorry about that doll, hope I didn’t upset ya,” he says, walking around the table and looking down at you.
“You didn’t. I gotta ask though, is your friend or whoever ok?” You ask, not bringing up the start of the call where the man in-front of you all but admitted to a multitude of crimes - blackmail, extortion, supplying drugs. He sounded different- genuine when he asked if the man was ok. It was sweet.
“Clint? Yeah no he’s fine, got jumped last night so he’s pissed about it, but he’s ok, worst thing he got were some nasty bruises and a broken finger.” Bucky responds, confusion on his face, wondering why you care.
“How did he break a finger?” you ask, moving backwards as he sits back on the table.
“Oh he didn’t go down without a fight, clocked one of them on his way out,” he says with a small chuckle.
“Ah, good for crazy Clint,” you say with a smile.
Bucky let’s out a sharp quick laugh, “that exactly what I thought doll,” he says, leaning back and putting his arm on the rest, “ready when you are.” He adds.
Ok right back to it. Got it boss.
“Ok, should only be about 10 more minutes.” You say.
“Alright doll.” He answers, leaning his head back on the rest, tilting his head so he could watch you.
Ten minutes later you were finished, putting your machine down for the final time.
“Okie dokie, I’m all done. Have a look in the mirror, see what ya think,” you say, hoping he liked it, not much you could do about it if he didn’t.
He moves over to the mirror, checking out his new ink, twisting his arm around to see it fully. He’s silent for a little while before he says, “fuck doll, you’re a damn artist.”
“Does that mean you like it?” You ask, failing to hide the hope in your voice.
“I love it. Couldn’t have asked for a better one for my first piece.” He says, walking forwards to stand in-front of you, letting you wrap the fresh tattoo, handing him a leaflet on aftercare as you talk.
“You’re shitting me,” you say, “was that seriously your first one?”
“Yeah, why are you so surprised darlin?” He responds, tilting his head.
“I don’t know, just sorta thought you’d have them all over.” You answer.
“All over, huh. You been thinking about me naked doll?” He says with a cheeky grin, talking half a step closer to you.
Shit.
“What, n-no of course not, why would I do that. I mean I’m sure you look good - uh fine.. naked but I don’t-” you cut yourself off before you embarrass yourself anymore.
“No, no ramble on Y/N please, I’m really enjoying watching you try to figure your way out of the grave you’re digging right now,” he says, chucking lightly.
“Shut up Bucky, leave me alone” you responds, looking down at your feet.
“Hey,” he grabs your chin, again, and add pressure until you’re looking up at his eyes, “don’t ever try and tell me what to do, darlin, I don’t tend to respond well to it. I won’t ‘shut up’ and I’ll never ‘leave you alone’… I like ya too much for that.” He says, sounding like a mix between a threat and a compliment.
“Uh.. okay.” You answer, not sure how to respond to his words.
He can tell that you don’t know what to say, so he mercifully breaks the silence. “I love the tattoo doll, it’s looks amazing. You’ve got a talent Y/N.” He drops his hand from your chin as he speaks.
“Thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” You answer sincerely.
“How much do I owe you sweetheart?” He asks, reaching into his jacket for his wallet.
That’s a new one.
“Uh, say $180?” You respond.
“$180? Damn you gotta charge more than that doll,” he says pulling some bills from his wallet.
He hands you the bills and says “now that’s for today and it should cover next time too, take half for now and half for then.”
You’re stunned by the fact that he’s already planning for next time but your jaw actually drops when you look at the bills.
They were hundreds.
“Woah I think you gave me the wrong bills,” you say, trying to push the bills back in his hands.
“No I didn’t, I know what I gave you. $180 for today, say $200 for next time and the rest is tip.” He answers smoothly, folding your hand back over the bills.
You look down to count and start shaking your head, “I can’t accept this, it’s way too much.”
“Consider it a thank you for dealing with the inconvenience of me having to do business in the middle of the appointment.” He says with a smile.
“Bucky this is 2000 dollars.”
“I know.” He puts up his hand again, stopping you from talking, “I’m not taking it back doll, just have it will ya?” He says, rolling his sleeve back down, doing the cuff back up with the cufflink and placing his jacket back on.
“Oh my god, you’re serious aren’t you?” You ask, unbelievable he wanted you to have over fifteen hundred dollars as tip.
“Yes I am.” He answers, straightening his jacket, “it also may be a small bribe.”
There it is.
“A bribe for what?” You ask, expecting his to ask you to keep quiet about his call.
“I want you to be my artist, anytime I want a tattoo, I want you doing it for me.” He says, smiling down at you with a hint of…something him his eye.
“Really?” You ask in shock, not expecting that from him.
“Yeah, like I said earlier, you got talent. I want more of you on me.” Bucky says smirking at the euphemism he made.
Fuck me running.
“Oh..shit.. yeah ok, that sounds..,” you swallow heavily, “sounds like a plan.” You smile up at him, trying to hide the way his words affected you.
He smiles back, stepping closer and closer until his chest is almost touching yours.
“Yes it’s does. You’re mine now doll,” he says, a dark look in his eye. You swallow hard again and your breath stutters at his words, eyes going straight to the floor. He notices your reaction and smirks, “my artist, I mean.” He continued.
“Although, judging by your little reaction there, I’d bet you be ok with that, wouldn’t you doll?” He says, his tone slightly mocking.
You say nothing.
He hums, then places his right hand on your cheek and tilts your head so you’re looking him in the eye again.
“Would you?” He asks softly.
“Maybe,” you whisper, a cocky smile breaking out on his face.
“Maybe, huh? ‘Mkay, guess I’ll just have to convince you then doll.” He says back, leaning closer, eyes going to your lips before he looks back up, giving you a chance to get out of the situation.
“Guess so.” You respond, some confidence back in your voice.
He hums again, and then he’s kissing you. His kiss is forceful but somehow still gentle, like he’s holding back as much as he can.
Fucking finally you can’t help but think as you move your hand to his wrist, the other one going to his left bicep, the feel of the solid metal under your hand was new, but not unwelcome.
His metal hand moves, wrapping around your back and pulling you against him, deepening the kiss when you gasp.
Reluctantly, you break the kiss when you run out of air. He leans back, the pressure on your back relieving a bit.
“Damn doll, what the fuck are you doing to me?” He asks, biting his bottom lip.
“Something good, hopefully.” You respond cheekily.
He groans, leaning his head back. “Yeah hopefully darlin’. I hate to say it sweetheart but I gotta get going.” He says, releasing his hold on you. He moves towards the door and for a second you think he going to leave without another word, until he turns back and says “I’ll talk to you later doll, keep your phone on or I’ll drop by.” He finished his sentence with a wink, and then he’s gone, the bell on the door ringing behind him.
Fuucckk. Maybe I’ll break my phone so he has to come by. Who knew the fucking Winter Soldier was actually a gorgeous softie under it all.
————
A/N: Ta da! Finally complete!! Love everyone of you that read this, mwah 😘
I can’t tag anyone else on this post so I will tag the rest in a separate post.
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Text
Bound to happen || Billy the Kid x reader
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Summary: Billy knew what would happen when burping his newborn child, yet he still insisted on doing it anyways.
Warnings: vomit, breastfeeding? I think that’s abt it.
Wc: 373
A/n: I wrote this for the second time because I accidentally clicked onto a notification from tumblr and it didn’t save 😃
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Divider by @pommecita
You sit in the cozy rocking chair, cradling your three-month-old daughter, Kathy, in your arms. The soft glow of the lamp in the corner casts a warm light, creating a serene atmosphere in the room. As Kathy nuzzles against you, finding comfort in her mother’s embrace, you catch a glimpse of your husband, Billy, watching with a curious and intrigued expression.
Billy has always been fascinated by the wonders of the female body, and the act of breastfeeding seems to captivate him. You can see the admiration in his eyes as he observes the gentle bond between you and Kathy. It’s a quiet moment, filled with the subtle sounds of your daughter’s content suckling.
“Ever think ‘bout how incredible it is, what your body can do?” Billy breaks the silence, his voice filled with wonder. You glance over at him, a smile playing on your lips. “Absolutely,” you reply, feeling a sense of pride in the marvels of motherhood.
The fascination in Billy’s eyes deepens as he continues to watch. After a while, he shifts in his chair, a newfound determination on his face. “Mind if I give it a shot?” he asks, a playful glint in his eye. You raise an eyebrow, amused by his curiosity. “Breastfeeding might be a bit challenging for you, dear,” you tease.
Billy chuckles, “Not that, but how about burping? Can I try burping her?” You nod, “Of course you can, Billy” passing him your precious bundle. He carefully takes 3 month old Kathy from your arms as she’s practically swallowed by Billy’s arms.
Billy, now holding Kathy with a mix of uncertainty and excitement, positions her against his shoulder, You watch as Billy gently pats Kathy’s back, slightly rocking her. “This is fun-“ Billy freezes as he feels something drip down his clothes back.
You stifled a laugh as he shuts his eyes, his nose crinkling from the smell. “Jesus,” He groans as you grab a cloth and wipe his back, Kathy’s staring at you over Billy’s shoulder with her blue doe eyes. “Well, that’s a first,” he says, glancing at Kathy, who looks equally surprised by her own actions.
After you finish wiping his back and Kathy’s mouth, Billy readjusts her in his arms. One hand behind Kathy’s head while the other was just under her bottom. Kathy looked up at her father with an innocent expression. “How could I get mad at you, darling?” He sighs, kissing her cheek as she breaks into a smile. You look over Billy’s shoulder just as your daughter smiles, Billy and you aweing over her cuteness.
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