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Summary: After nearly a year of mystery presents, your gift giver finally reveals himself to be none other then the outlaw Billy-the-kid.
Warnings: Mentions of violence, nonco/dunco, SA, religious doctrine, unhealthy behaviours, out of character, Dead dove do not eat.
Word count: 4437
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
part 5
The light streaming from the open window was torture for your head.You had never felt this sick in your life. Your fathers moods now no wonder.
Shame floods you. What man would take you now? Would it matter that it was not your choice? That bill is your husband?
Billy. How could he do this to you? He wasn’t that sort of man, or at least you thought.
“How dare you” with a single hit billy sprung awake, twisting his body towards his attacker. He reaches for his gun in reflex, pointing it, ready and loaded.
You could only stare at the gun pointed straight between your eyes.
”What are you doing?” He scolds you, drawing his gun back. With the safety back on, he throws the gun on the nightstand and reaches for his pants on the floor.
“You shouldn’t wake men up like that. Is something wrong?”.
The ball in your throat tightened as your tears fell.
“How could you- how could you do that to me?” You choke.
He spins back around with his pants now done up, and crawls back on the bed over to you.
Billy reaches for your face, looking over you
”Are you hurt?”, he asks softly.
You shove his hands off you, clutching tightly at the sheet pulled to your chest.
“I am ruined.
“You are far from ruined” he retorts.
Billy continues with his clothes, ignoring your anguish.
“Billy” you call to him, “do you know what you have done?”
He sighs, pulling on his last boot before answering.
“I’ve slept with my wife. You’ve slept with your husband”, he stands walking over to the window and opening the shutters.
“The sun still rose” he mocked.
He shuts the windows again, blocking the majority of light. You are grateful for it in your naked state. You were too high up for the people below to see but one personal wrongly placed may get more then they bargained for.
“How could you do that to me” you accuse.
“You didn’t seem to mind” he scoffs.
You gasp as it he said it. His face retorted in guilt, wishing he could take it back.
Billy take a steps towards you but you hunker back into the bed. Determined not to let him touch you again.
He halts. Withdrawing his outstretched hands.
“I am sorry. I should be a little bit more considerate of my wife's trouble. It’s school girl guilt, that’s all. You didn’t do anything wrong”.
“No, I didn’t” you state in a hard tone.
He eyes the bathtub in the room, moving swiftly to it as he spoke.
“You’re a wife now. You have to learn to expect this sort of thing”.
The water rushing from the tap drowns him out to where you strain to hear his words.
“I know you didn’t have a Ma to teach you these things and I’ll try to help where I can but you have to stop fighting me every step of the way”.
Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. Even if you knew what to say to him, you doubt you could get your tongue to yield.
Instead you cry, big, loud, fresh sobs.
How would you explain this to your father? What of your future?
Billy jumps up from the tub, rushing over to sit in front of you in the bed. You kept the sheet pressed tight against you as he brushes your hair back trying to catch your eyes.
“Please, please don’t cry. You had sex, you’re not dead”
“I wish I was” you sob.
“No, you don’t mean that” he consoles. His fingers comb in a soothing fashion against the side of your head.
“It was a big night. You just need a bath and something to eat” he determined, “hop in. I”ll go get you something to eat”
“Billy, I hate you”, you declare.
He reaches for his shirt on the floor, avoiding eye contact with you as he dresses.
”Well I love you”, he says softly.
“I’ll be back” he promises in quiet voice. He leaves the room quickly and you hear the sound of a lock behind him.
You continue to cry on the bed. All you could picture was your fathers anger. His disappointment at his whore daughter. You would die of shame before you could be saved.
After a while your tears run dry and you sat there helplessly until you could muster the energy to enter into the tub. The hot water almost ran over the top before you reached it.
You soak in it while you wait for Billy to return. The gold on your finger mocks you. You slip the ring off your finger, hurling it across the room where it lands with a dull thud.
Slipping down into the water, you allow yourself to sink to the bottom. If you were braver you would have drowned yourself but when your lungs began to burn you rose to the surface despite your wishes.
Billy was still not back despite it being a near half hour since he left. For a second you wondered if his guilt got the better of him and he left town. But you knew he wouldn’t, not your billy.
So you wait for his return that marks forty minutes since his departure.
When he does return he has food and flowers, as if he could gift his way out of trouble.
With his hat off his head, he extends the flowers out to you. A pretty bunch of different coloured wildflowers.
“Y/n, I am really sorry. You just seemed so nervous, I thought it might help but it wasn’t right for me to do. I lied to you and I deceived you and- and I am truly sorry”.
You throw the flowers to the ground when they are handed to you, reaching for the bakery packet instead.
“You don’t have to forgive me now” he states picking the flowers up, “I understand if you need the day”.
“I want to go home” you tell him again.
Billy sighs, “Not this again. I told you once we get the bounty, we can go wherever you want”.
“Home” you yell at him, “I want to go home”.
He shushes you with a finger to his lips, eyeing the door he came in from.
“You’re just angry. It will pass. All married couples fight”.
“Billy, you arent listening to me”.
“If you think you are leaving this marriage, you are wrong. We are bound for life now. You may not like it but we are.”
You sit on the bed and hang your head in your hands. No more tears come but the rage remained.
Billy kneels on the floor in front of you, rising himself so he was at the same height as you.
“I am sorry”, he says once more.
His hands wrap around your wrists, pulling them gently from your face where he greets them with a kiss.
His eyes try to find the gold on your finger but find it bare instead.
“Where’s your ring?”, he demands.
You tug your wrist from his hold, pointing to the far wall.
Billy releases your wrists moving over to find your ring.
“Now that ain’t funny”, he scolds. He finds it next to the tables leg and brings it back you like a dog playing fetch.
“Be angry but don’t be stupid”, he places the ring back on your finger, sliding it to the very base, “We are married now, Y/n. I own you”, he says softly and without intent to scare you, “You own me. We’re one”.
You look at the gold on your finger. A symbol of a married woman. A owed woman.
You bury your face again out of shame
”Hey” Billy calls gently, “hey now, come on”,
He tugs your hands down again, placing the bakery packet into the open space.
“Have something to eat. You’ll feel better”.
He stands tall, placing a gentle hand to the side of your head as he departs to the table and pours a cup of water.
You take it from him when he offers, downing it with great thirst.
“If you’re not in too much pain, we can go to town. Get you some gloves and supplies for the road”.
”I am not in any pain”, you admit to him between a bite of your bread.
He smiles smugly at this. As if it somehow absolved him of his crime and proved him right.
“That’s good” he drawls, “real good”.
You throw the half finished bread on the table, standing up so he wasn’t looming over you as you spoke.
“I should write to my father. To let him know I am okay”.
”No”, Billy’s answer was cold, harsh and final.
“He will have the sheriff looking everywhere for us. We should tell him we are married so they will call off the search. He will be worried”.
”I will write to him” Billy offers.
You scoff at him, “You think he will believe you?”
”I don’t care what he believes. I’ll write for you. Because it would please my wife’’.
”It would please me if I wrote to him” you state.
Billy sighs, placing his hands on his hips in defeat. He gives a small nod
”If you find it too much, I will finish it for you”, he offers.
You move past him to gather your shoes from the floor to place them on your feet.
“I am not as weak as you think I am” you tell him.
“I don’t think that”, he refutes, surprised at your accusation.
He reaches out to touch you but you jump away from before his hand could land on your skin.
“Don’t” you warn him.
He holds his hand up and out in surrender.
“Okay” he says softly.
You walk past him to the door, not stopping as he locks up. He quickly catches up to you on the stairs, placing his hand on the small of your back as you descend.
“I have some gloves on hold for you at the store. Wasn’t sure they’d fit”, he tells you as you cross the foyer into the sunlight.
“I also need some bullets. The journey to Aratula is only a day but Buddy will need some more feed, and we should stock up”.
He leads you to a pale yellow store that reads ‘Hugo convenience’ in red letters.
”Can you think of anything else?” He asks you. The door jingles as he holds it open for you.
”Back again young man” the shopkeeper greets. He was a greying man, dressed in tailored black with circular glasses.
“Yes, sir” Billy returns as he follows you in, “back for those gloves. This is my wife y/n”.
Bile rose in your throat but you shook the mans hand when he extended it.
“Pleasure Mrs”, the older man greets, “‘your husband here has been pacing my shop all morning trying to find you the perfect gloves”.
You grace him with a thin smile before turning to a sheepish Billy next to you.
“They need only keep my hands warm”, you state.
“That they will do” exclaims the shopkeeper, rounding the counter and reaching for the stored item.
They were black leather with fur lining. Too extravagant for a woman of your standing.
”My husband seems to think we are rich”, you pester, “simple wool will do me fine”.
The reference to husband invigorated Billy who stood taller, closer and spoke with more authority.
“We’ll take them, sir” he addressed the shopkeeper, “ three rounds of 22’s as well and horse feed if you’ve got it”.
The Shopkeeper smiles at Billy, sliding the gloves across the counter to you.
“Young love. You should enjoy it little miss”, he told you, “one day you’ll have to fight him for a new dress”.
The man busies himself finding the correct ammunition. His back was turned to his locked shelves as he waded through his stock.
“Horse feed is around back. My shop boy will help you” the older man spoke, placing the ammunition on the counter.
He goes to ring up the items on his till. As his finger strikes the final button, you speak up.
”And we’ll take that gold pin” you point to it underneath the glass. Shaped as a horse shoe and marketed as luck with three small indents on either side where the tiny Diamonds sat.
”Since my husband is feeling so generous”, you remark.
The man looks to Billy for permission, who nods back in agreement.
“That too” he agrees, “It’s our honeymoon”, he adds bashfully.
”oh well” the man coo’s reaching for the pin, “may every day that you wear it remind you of his love”.
You scowl as the pin is handed to you. You can’t place it on yourself. Your fingers wouldn’t move from the thin pin.
The man said a number and Billy paid without too much thought before thanking the man and leading you back out the shop.
”Do I at least get a kiss for it?” He teases, taking off his hat so he could bend down for a kiss.
His lips meet yours gently before you can confirm your answer. Billy takes the pin from your hands, fastens it to the breast of your dress for you.
You don’t know why you asked for it? To spend his money? For the delusion of luck? You supposed it reminded you of him. The cowboy and the horseshoe. You wonder if you will keep it after everything is said and done.
“I love you” he promises, “I’ll take care of you. Make you happy”.
”Great job so far”, you scold.
You push past him, leading the way to the back for the horse feed. You greet the young boy working and state your purpose.
Billy takes the feed and you lead him on to the stables.
He is gentle with his horse. Affectionate even. He spoke to it kindly like it was an old friend. Took great care in its comfort.
Billy wouldn't be a bad husband to a different girl. One who could live the life of an outlaw. That was not you. You wanted a man gentle, meek. Someone you never had to worry about raising a hand to you.
Billy smiles at you as you stare at him. You quickly call on him to come. The day was wasting and supplies still needed to be brought.
The larger supply shop was busier than the convenience store. People bustled around. You looked for men who appeared to be moving on. Men who brought things like beef jerky and canned goods. Men who were leaving quickly.
You follow Billy around while he picks up all he needs. Matches, bandages, lamp oil. Your eyes never stop scanning the room. You seemed out of luck until you heard an older gentleman talking with one of the shopkeepers.
He was leaving for Scottsville. That was close to Westfield. Close to home. You tried to keep your excitement down. The man moved on to look at rope. You had to talk to him. Beg him for help.
“I am just going to have a look at the fruit. Some fresh food would be nice”, you tell Billy.
“Okay, darling. Stay where I can see you”, Billy commands.
You nod at him with a sly smile before quickly moving across to your target.
“Don’t look. Keep facing forward” you command the older man as you pretend to inspect an apple.
“Excuse me?” the man asks, turning towards you.
“No, no! Stay forward. He cant see us talkin” you scold.
The man does as he is told, turning back to the wall.
“Who can’t Miss?”.
“Sir, I need your help. I’ve been kidnapped. You need to take me back home to Westfeild. It’s close to Scottsvile”.
The man turns to you once more before snapping back forward.
“How did you know I was planning on Scottsvile?”.
‘God sent you to me, sir. Please, once we reach Westvile there will be a reward for my return”.
You place three apples in a sack, before inspecting a forth.
“Please, sir, please” you beg.
“Where is he? We should tell the sheriff. See him hang”.
“it’ s Billy-the-kid’, you admit.
The name turns the man towards you once more. He looked pale, and panicked. You regret mentioning the name but there wasn’t a shoot out Billy wouldnt win.
“God sent you to me, sir. Please I need your help”.
The man looks around the room, his eyes scanning for Billy. Once found they go back to the ropes in a dazed stare.
“My god, it is him”, he mutters.
“He cant know. We just need to disappear. Please, Sir. All I am asking is for you to be waiting outside of the hotel at 6am tomorrow. Nothing else. All I need is lift home”.
The man contemplates your request. You hold your breath until he finally responds.
“6am tomorrow’ he agrees, “I’ll be there”.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you”, you whisper.
You turn quickly, walking back to Billy with a fake smile.
“Got the apples?” he questions softly, taking them from you to hold, “Were you talking to that man?”.
“Yeah,” you say, he had already seen, “I reminded him of his daughter. He asked if I was with anyone, I said you”.
Billy smiles, bending down to kiss you.
The older man drops his supplies, rushing out the door. You hoped he wouldn’t get cold feet.
______________________________
Tomorrow, Billy confirmed you would make your way to Aratula.
You sat on the bed, twisting the gold ring around on your finger. How would Westfield react to you once you returned? Would you be held liable for Billy's sins?
”Honey?” He called, throwing the damp cloth on the table, “you haven’t said a word since dinner. You feeling alright?”
“What do you want me to say?” You ask him.
Billy shrugs in return, “Anything. I want you to tell me anything. Whatever is bothering you”.
”You know what’s wrong Billy. Being ignorant to the fact won’t change anything”.
He sighs, walking over to where you sat, and kneeling down next to you.
“You haven’t tried. Marriage takes two to work”.
He gathers your hand in his, bringing them up for a kiss.
“You shouldn’t have forced me. That wasn’t right”, you tell him.
“I know, I am sorry. But we are meant to be together. I know we are. From the first second I saw you, I knew. I can be the man you want me to be, just give me a chance. Once we get the bounty, we can start fresh. We can have a proper wedding if you want it”.
You rip your hands free from him, lying on your back away from him.
“I am tired”, you tell him, “turn off the lamp”.
He does as you request. The room darkens as he continues to ready himself for bed. He had already bathed and was dressed down but his gun need cleaning.
He takes it over by candle light to the table before breaking it apart. You watch him as he cleans his gun. It was almost like a second part of him. His hands moved so confidentiality around the parts. He almost didnt need the light, he knew what he was doing and he did it well. All his focus went into it. He quickly finishes his favoriate gun, clicking all parts back togeather before moving on to his second gun for the same process.
He disasembles, cleans and clears in a matter of minutes. He reloads it, with a flick of his wrist the chamber locks back into place and he points the gun out in aim. You see him; Billy-the-kid. Lit by candle light. A shiver runs down your spine.
He places the gun on the table, and blows out the candle before joining you in bed. He nestles up to the back of you, spooning himself against you and begins to kiss your neck.
“Don’t” you tell him.
“We’re married now”, he reminds you, forcing you to your back by pushing on your shoulder,
“This is what married couples do”, he declares, placing a kiss against your neck, “They practice”.
He scoops your shoulder up by sliding his hands under and raising you up to him. His face remains buried in your neck as he places deep, longing kisses against the skin.
“Billy, please” you beg him. You feel his fingers claw at the fabric of your nightgown as he simmers it down your body. You make no move to stop him with his gun freshly loaded at the table side.
“I love you” he states breathlessly between kisses.
Your core heats up from the contact. When he dips his finger into you, you knew he was going to find you shamefully wet. You feel his smile against your skin before he distances himself to prepare. The sheath is slipped over his cock which gave you comfort that at least you would not get pregnant.
“Ready?” He asks softly.
You don’t answer but your hips shift in preparation.
He inserts himself slow into you. Never forcing past your walls but allows you to open up to him in your own accord.
A groan escapes you as he fills your hole. The pressure of his weight on top of you engulfs whatever was left of your bodily anatomy.
“Let me know if you need me to slow down” he offers before he begins to thrust at a comfortable pace.
The rhythm annoyed you. It was enough to tease. A nice, comfortable slow pace but not enough to satisfy. You huff out dissatisfied beneath him. You couldn’t stop him, the least he could do was give you back the feeling last night.
Billy kisses your cheek before bringing his head back up to gaze at you under the moonlight searching for any discomfort or sign he was hurting you.
“You alright? Feel good?” He asks. In a misinterpreted effort to please you, he slows his pace further. Painfully slowly does his rock his hips into you. The strokes of pleasure too far in between.
Your hands latch on to his biceps, fingernails digging into the skin.
”Faster” you demand, wiggling your hips in annoyance.
“Faster?” He scoffs. He obliges, picking up to a quick pace. You hook your leg over his waist to stop yourself from being jostled away.
”What happened to ‘please billy?” He teases, slowing down away to a point where he was always inside you but his thrust halted and he was just dragging himself inch by inch down and up.
”Please billy” you whine under a different guise. You could feel the shame in your heart as you begged him to continue with your own rape. But your lust heated your skin, and lit your nerves on fire. You wanted to come in order to get rid of this uncomfortable wanting feeling between your legs.
“Say I want you Billy” he commands, “I love you Billy”.
You swallow the lump in your throat but still the words would not form. You shake your head no against the mattress. It was one thing for your body to betray you. You would retain your voice.
When he pulls out, it leaves you with a cold, damp feeling between your legs. The experience was unpleasant. A man’s warmth was nothing like you had ever experienced before.
“Damn you woman”, he scolds.
Billy flips you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips into position and spreads your thighs open. He inserts himself back in. His warmth fills your leaking pussy in the new position. His pace is more brutal than before. He takes more control, not allowing you to adjust to take any pressure off.
“More stubborn than a mule’, he criticizes, “you’re lucky I want you so god damn much otherwise I would put you away wet”.
You can’t move under his weight. The position pins you into the mattress. You claw at the blankets beneath you, groaning into them as he pounds into you.
“Say it. Please say it’ he grunts,
You babble something into the mattress, you weren’t sure what it was but it satisfied Billy enough.
“My little wife, my darling girl”, he grunts, “mine, all mine for eternity. Knew it was you. Knew it had to be you. You knew it too. Just too damn stubborn”
You feel yourself tighten around him. He feels it too you surmised from his next word.
“Y/n, don’t come. Not until I tell you”, he commands,”I ain’t stopping until I get my fill that’s my right as a husband”.
Inexperienced, you had no idea how to stop your body. Your mind had no control over it.
“Ugh” he sighs as he feels you pulsing. You tried to crawl up, away from him as his work became over stimulating.
His hands clasp over your wrists, forcing them back against your lower back to keep you still.
The heat and salty smell settle between the comfortable numbness you felt.
He continues without sound above you. Focusing on his only task while you lay spent against him.
A loud, deep groan precedents his release. Your eyes squeeze shut as he rolls onto the mattress next to you, taking off his stealth in the process.
His hands move you, repositioning you on his chest where he could enclose you tight against his bare skin.
Here you felt the shame cascading around you. You had given into your lust. No one would have any sympathy for you when you returned home. Would your father return you back to Billy? Would Billy remain the same or turn into something meaner once he had you back?
You think about the man that will be waiting for you tomorrow, would he be able to smell the sex on you?
You cover your face with your hands in shame, the metal of your ring pressing into the side of your head.
Billy’s finger drags up and down your spine in a smoothing manner while you spiral quietly. His hand landed possessively against the back of your neck as you wiggle but it was only to pull yourself closer, needing some form of comfort in your despair. Seeing no threat, he moves to rest his hand against the side of your head, lolling his own head to rest on top of yours.
He drifts peacefully off to sleep while you lay next to him, waiting for the sun to rise.
billy the kid x fem!reader |requested!|billy is still love-sick for you with your new domestic life and baby boy|
the baby stirs in your grip softly, a grin spreads on your face as your infant sleeps soundly in your arms
you turn as the door opens, billy takes his hat off and a wide smile finds his lips at the sight of you two
"how was your ride?" you whispered. billy often rides into the meadows -sometimes turning for the town if you need anything- after he left his outlaw life behind and married you. he's a cowboy at heart, though, so he rides almost every morning
"it was great," he said, voice low, he moved toward you pushing a loose strand of your hair to the side to get a good look at your face
"you look gorgeous" he whispered, a smitten look deep in his eyes as he moved down to kiss you
still as lovesick as ever, you melt into the kiss, and the baby in your arms whines at your attention moving and billy makes sure to greet him too
"hey little cowboy" he whispers and kisses the top of your baby's head, the infant's eyes barely open to see his dad
billy impossibly grins wider once your baby boy smiles at him, their matching eyes filled with love as billy scoops him up
"did you sleep good last night?" billy babbles to the baby,
"I'll make breakfast while you too talk" you giggle as you make your way to the kitchen, billy follows as the mumbles to the child
"mama's gonna make us some food. you'll help her one day so pay attention"
he narrates your movements to your baby, as you fry a few eggs your eyes drift to your husband and you couldn't help your heart as it swelled at the sight
this tall, threatening-looking man with a gun on his hip rocked your baby ever so softly with a love-filled grin plastered on his face
"I love you" you told him, he looked up at you before stepping closer to kiss you slowly
"I love you more than you could ever know"
an: thank you for the request! <3 I love love love the simple life with billy 🥺🫶
Size kink w Billy the kid and hes such a tall guy he towers over you and it's almost intimidating when you first meet him. You're more on the petite side, barely coming up to his shoulders when you're next to him and he loves it, constantly teasing you. You'd be mad if not for the shy smile that punctuates his sentence everytime, unable to stop that genuine burst of warmth in his chest when he looks at you.
Not so funny when you're under him and squeezing his cock so tight though.
You're small, and he finds that he can only fit in you fully after you've cummed twice, loosened up and loopy from his thick fingers and tongue.
And even then hes burying his face in your neck and breathing hard when he fits his swollen tip into your pussy that's already feels like its trying to milk him.
"Y'gotta relax for me, doll,"
He pleads with you, voice breaking when you clench around him again and he slides another inch into your sweet sweet cunny.
"M' tryinggg--!!"
You mewl in reply, nails digging into his nape while he grips your other hand, fingers interlocked by your head. You're teary-eyed and all gasping and whimpering, kiss-swollen lips glistening with your saliva as it dribbled down your chin.
Billy licks up the wet trail, pressing soft kisses to your pouty lips and whispering soft praises.
"S'good for me doll,"
"Just a little more...you can take it,"
And you're biting your bottom lip, snorting short bursts of pitchy whines and shaking your head and....oh.
Your head lolls back, eyes blown wide as his pelvis presses against yours, tip of his cock snug against your cervix. It's so full and you feel so stretched out and Billy's suddenly groaning low in his throat as your pussy pulses around him.
"Billy-"
But hes already cumming thick spurts straight into your womb, face buried into your neck as he whimpers apologies.
"Fffuuuckkk doll m'sorry m'sor-ry- jesus doll-"
I guess now you get to tease him back about being too "small" for him.
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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."
When your dad hires a charming new ranchhand, it’s not your fault he won’t stop looking at his bosses daughter. But it is your fault for looking right back.
part 1 of Ice Cold Lemonade
next
We are so back
Levi jeans. a taupe, sleeveless shirt. cowboy boots tucked under said levi's and scuffed from well-use. a navy hat smushing his hair to his slightly-sweaty forehead, but letting the dark locks at his nape curl.
Not to mention blue eyes that keep on finding their way over to you.
It's been a week since your dad hired him. You hardly even know his name, your dad just calls him Kid. Makes sense, seeing as the rest of the hands are pushing forty. Maybe he's a kid in comparison. But looking at him now, sipping the glass of lemonade you fetched yourself from the kitchen, he was all man.
He looks back up at you from where he's mending the wire fence to the cattle pen. You divert your eyes.
The heat was almost oppressive, you had the perfect excuse to wear the tiniest jean shorts you could find in your drawers and the flowiest white camisole. On the other hand, there wasn't a single excuse to be sitting out on the porch when you could practically get 3rd degree burns by touching the wood railing. Who cares? Wasn't like the Kid was gonna come up and ask you what you were doing, besides watching him bust his ass.
It's hardly your fault the man a good handful of yards away makes hard labor look good. Even from here you can see his large arms, skin tanned from working outside. His hat shades his eyes, but from the quick glimpses you've caught of him from behind your father's back, they're blue like the sky above. His broad shoulders raise and flex as he reaches for a nail to hammer the barbed wire into the fence post.
Maybe it's your fault for paying such close attention, actually.
He hadn't dared approach you. Your father's anger was a force to be reckoned with, he was smart enough to get that. You wish he was just a little bit dumber, little bit ballsier (you could clearly tell he had them, you thought to yourself with a grin, you hadn't spared his belt any glances). Though you'd just drop dead seeing him saunter up to you, all shoulders and chest and--
The lemonade glass meets the wooden side table with a clink, the rocking chair you were seated in is on a pendulum as you stand. You can hear Angharrad clawing at the screen door, she must've been getting antsy. You throw the new ranchhand a long look over your shoulder. Just as you move to step inside, he lifts his face, shaded eyes meeting yours.
You blow the air out your cheeks, looking back at a whining Angharrad. Jesus.
You rifle through the dish at the entrance table for a hair tie, pushing the keys to your father’s pickup and some loose change around the ceramic. Catching your own eye in the mirror, you put your hair into a high ponytail. Having hair on your neck in this head was a death wish, but more than that, you were careful to make sure it looked nice. You’ve never cared much about your appearance on the property before— but you guess that was before there was a new hire to try and impress.
Angharrad pushes her head into the side of your knee, her nails clicking on the hardwood as she pads twixt the screen door, and you. You tighten your ponytail, words coming out in a sigh, “I hear ya, baby, I hear ya,” You shake your head, watching the dog (a Great Pyrenees, a cattle dog bought by your father to work on the farm— though she spent more time on your heels than herding cattle,) bound outside the moment you open the door.
And right to the new ranch hand.
Who is leaning against the railing of the porch from the other side, his face twixt the wood posts, reaching through to scratch twixt Angharrad’s ears.
An easy smile rests on his face, his eyes creasing with it, and though it’s probably directed to your dog, his expression doesn’t falter one bit when he meets your stare.
Holy shit.
First words out his mouth don’t register in your brain. You shake your head a little, lifting your brows, feeling dumber than ever. “What?”
“I said, s’a cute dog.” The new hire chuckles, giving you a toothier smile. God, is he handsome. And his voice— it’s masculine and accented and now you just gotta keep him talking.
A smile parts your lips, too, one that you hope looks more shy than stupid. You settle back into your rocking chair, crossing your legs. “Thanks. She clearly thinks you’re cute too.”
Well, doesn’t that one make you proud. You work another laugh out of the Kid, he shakes his head and adjusts his hat on his dark curls. Now, you can get a serious look at his eyes. And it’s suddenly real difficult to tear yourself away from the brilliant azure of them. “M’ Billy,” he winds a hand around a post of the railing, the muscles of his arm shifting under his sweaty skin. Billy.
You give him your own name in exchange, and his brows lift. He dodges Angharrad’s sniffing snout— she really is head over heels for Billy— to call out, “Pretty name. It fits for a pretty girl, y’know.”
A laugh, clear as a bell, sends your head tipping back a little. You had to give it to him, he was charming as all hell. You peer at him over your glass of lemonade, shaking your head just a bit again. Billy’s eyes dart quickly over you, not long enough to make you uncomfortable, but he isn’t exactly hiding it.
“D’ya know who my dad is?” You grin at the way his lips turn downward in a dramatic, so what? expression. He nods.
“M’boss.” A shit eating grin cracks across his face.
“Your boss.” You agree. You watch him take off his hat, wiping his brow with the back of his hand as he walks to the stairs of the porch. Walking straight to you.
Now your stomach really does get fluttery— here was this handsome, no, gorgeous man, broad and even larger than you expected him to be this close up, looming over you and pointing to the half-full pitcher of cool lemonade.
“I don’t guess a sweet girl like you’d spare a glass of lemonade for a tired, workin’ man?” The grin on Billy’s face was just as clear in his words, the joke eased off his tongue with a natural charm that he clearly had in droves. You nod, that’s all you can get out, standing to your feet.
“I’ll grab you a cup,” you mutter, ducking away from him and hurrying inside, pushed by nerves. Weren’t you barely just gawking at this man from across the property, and here he was, calling you pretty, saying you were sweet?
Well, if you’d looked over your shoulder, you’d see an only slightly confused, and extremely enamored cowboy. When you returned back outside, Billy was sitting in the other chair, on the other side of the coffee table— his hat was in his lap, he was trying to ruffle some life into his hat-hair. Waiting ever so patiently for his boss’s pretty daughter, even reaching to scratch your dog’s ear again.
When you crossed over to him and began pouring him a cup, you could feel his eyes on you. It wasn’t uncomfortable, not at all predatory— by the time you met his eyes, handed him the glass, there was a certain twinkle in his eyes. Charming, but not over the top. Not pushy.
Your hand grazed Billy’s for a moment longer than necessary, he drawled a low, “Thanks, miss.” You fell back into your chair, huffing through your nose as you watched him down the lemonade. It really was hot out here, you couldn’t blame him. New Mexican summers were no joke. And he was doing manual labor under the sun on top of it— though you didn’t feel entirely bad, he looked damn good doing it.
“I ain’t my dad, you can call me by name.” You jest, earning you another grin. You watch him rock back and forth on the chair, one leg pushing himself, his fingers fiddling with his belt— you shouldn’t be looking down there!
Billy hums and repeats your name in correction. It seems like he just sat down, but here he is, pushing himself to his feet and standing in front of you. He pushes his hat back on, you get a glimpse of his large arms, his defined biceps— maybe the heat is what’s making you feel dizzy.
“You ain’t got a guy, d’ya?” Straight to the point. Your eyes dart back down— damnit— to see he’s hooked his thumbs over his leather belt. When you meet his stare again, there’s that devilish smile. You shake your head no to his question. “Makes sense. If y’did, I don’t think he’d take kindly t’how y’been starin’ at me.”
The easy way it falls from his lips— you’re practically clutching your pearls. “I have not been—“
“Oh, yes you have, miss,” Billy interjects with a warm, rumbling laugh, his brows lifting in good fun. Clearly he found it funny more than anything. You find yourself a bit distracted by the crease of his eyes when he grins, the sun-kissed pink to his tan cheeks. His broad shoulders, revealed by his sleeveless shirt. Maybe you get a little ballsy, faced with all this in front of you.
“So what if I have?” You retort, the flirting filling you with a strange, overpowering yellow, from head to toe— a kind of excitement that you didn’t feel often, not from any guy. “You work for me, y’know.”
“Thought you said you wasn’t your dad, sugar.”
You stare at eachother a long, long few moments. You’re huffing, beat. He’s shifting his weight, putting forward a boot on the porch, glancing you over again. The gumption on this man was gonna send you up the wall, all-right.
It takes a while for you to find your words, and they come out in an astonished laugh. “Get back to work!” you half-jokingly shoo him off even though you want nothing more than for him to stay, sit back down, keep your jaw dropping, keep your chin tipping back with laughter.
“Cruel, cruel woman,” he mutters without any bite, his eyes falling to Angharrad spread out at your feet. He only smiles at his own joke when you giggle. And Billy turns, shakes his head at you, looks over his shoulder atleast twenty times, waves once and curses himself twice, even though he wants the exact same.
If you’d want him to risk his job to sit and tell you the worst jokes he has, drink up your lemonade, drink up the sight of you— he would. In a heartbeat, honest, he would, even just from that quick interaction. Even if your father came after him with a shotgun and ran him off this ranch, he has half the mind to slither right back in and sit at your steps. It’ll get to that point, all-right.
You’re gonna get this boy into so, so much trouble.
Billy's nose nuzzles right against the curve of your neck before he smothers his mouth there. It's an attempt to keep quiet, to resist the urge to let out that strangled moan that's building in the back of his throat as he's burying his cock into you. He's not sure if he's ever been this deep, his chest flush to your back and his hips pressing so tightly to you, you wonder if he could bruise you like that. You wonder if he knows he's as deep as he can be or if he thinks by some miracle that could push his cock more into you.
You're sure he's mumbling something against your heated skin, but you can't make out what. He's not thrusting, but he hasn't finished yet. Billy's grinding himself into you like he's trying to write something within your very soul. If that isn't desperation, what else could you call it?
You finally catch the end of a sentence he rambles out, "...'m sorry, is this good?"
A laugh almost leaves your lips, but instead, a sharp gasp comes out when he shifts just right and muffles his oncoming groan on your shoulder.
"Yeah," you breathe out, reaching a hand behind you to nestle it into his hair. He's sweaty, his hair needs a wash desperately but you can't find it in yourself to care right now. Billy's hips buck forward at your touch and you moan together that time. He seems reluctant to stop trying to bury himself in you as he picks up a steady pace of thrusting, a hand snaking between you and the bed to thumb at your clit.
It has you arching back against him and he mutters something that sounds like, "I know, I know, honey," and ends with a few curses that tumble from his lips like he simply can't help them.
"I can't be quiet," he says, in a rushed tone that does make you laugh and he breathlessly laughs back, using his other hand to pinch your hip.
"You're doing just fine," you tell him, but he immediately proves that incorrect when you meet his thrust and he's moaning a tad too loud. Billy grumbles, both to himself and to your words, but pushes his mouth back to your neck. You can feel the way he smushes his nose to you and inhales, like even your mere scent helps him get off.
With quick jerks of his hips and swirls of his thumb, he brings you right to the edge and doesn't stop until you're unraveling around him. His words a jumbled mess, he buries himself to the hilt and comes right as the aftershocks of your orgasm sets in.
The shuddering of his body over you almost sends you over the edge again. The way Billy grunts and empties every drop he has into you is like he was made to do that. Made to give you his love in this way and he would suffer without it. When he calms, he makes no move to get off of you, his lips ghosting soft kisses on your neck and a relieved sigh causing you to let one out too.
