We need a full fic on the coryo is only soft for you blurb
Pleaseeeee
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
this is an ask from 2024. my deepest apologies anon this has been in my drafts forEVER! I loved writing it <3
౨ৎ꣑ৎcoryo is only soft for you౨ৎ꣑ৎ
fem reader x coriolanus snow
large text version here!
There was yelling behind the door. Well, maybe not yelling, but somebody sounded stern. You leaned in, pressing your ear to the wood of your husband's office, curious who was so upset and why. Coriolanus wouldn't stand for anybody using a tone with him, so it must be him.
"-won't settle for anything less. Panem's leadership is better than a few measly rumors."
It was him. That was the tone he usually reserved for Fish when he was shredding a pair of nice socks. Your cat seemed to take a liking to torment, but only where Coriolanus was concerned. There were claw marks on his shiny shoes, long cat hairs on his pillow. One time, Fish left a dead mouse on the rug where Coriolanus got out of bed in the morning.
The man on the posters with scathing eyes and a sharp mouth couldn't be more different than who he was to you. To Panem, he was the thorn, but for you he was the rose.
You stood to the side when a trail of men in suits exited the office, hiding your roses behind your back. The gardens were so lovely this time of year, even if a spring chill sometimes made you shiver. You took your lunch in the greenhouse this afternoon and gathered a handful of pink flowers to brighten Coriolanus' office. The most recent batch was wilting.
Each man nodded at you, and you returned it with a smile. They must need some kind of light after Coriolanus' harsh choice of words. You peeked into the office. He was scribbling something on a sheet of paper, and you were sure his pen would tear a hole through it.
When he looked up, his face melted from the stiff seriousness retained from his meeting. He put his pen down and held out a hand. "Darling."
With a bright smile, you scurried over to him, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. He nudged your hip until you took a seat on his thigh, legs situated between his knees. You set the roses atop his papers so you could slide your arms around his neck. "How was your day?"
"Long." His arm went around your waist, rubbing your midsection with his big hand. "I'd rather hear about your day, sweetheart."
"I brought something for you." You nodded at the roses. "For in here."
"Are those your roses?" He had a few bushes put in when you were married, all in pink.
"Yes."
"Very generous of you," he cooed, kissing your forehead. "Did you eat dinner yet?"
"Not yet. I wanted to wait for you." You leaned your head on his shoulder. "Was it a hard meeting?"
"Frustrating." His fingers were tapping a steady rhythm at your side. "Too long. I missed you."
You reached up to smooth his hair, his curls having come un-gelled. "I missed you. Fish missed you too."
"I doubt it." He looked unamused.
“You like cats,” you declared, kissing his nose.
“I like cats,” he agreed. “But Fish is a special case.”
“Maybe we should get him a friend.” You were busy smoothing his hair, fixated on each strand.
“I’ll pick out a friend,” he muttered, holding you to him. “Maybe we’ll have a cat who likes me this time.”
“Aww.” You cuddled into his side, likely rumpling his suit, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“You just get along with everyone. I’m not so lucky.” He patted your side. “I’m the scary one.”
“You’re not scary.” Shifting, you ran your thumb over his cheek. “You like roses in your office and you’re letting me sit on your lap. And you like cats.”
“I love my wife.” He was so boyish to you now, as he squeezed you to him and kissed your head. “Who wouldn’t love you?”
You were half sure if anyone dared confess it, he’d find a way to banish them, but you didn’t say it. Instead you let him kiss you, grateful that he did love you, and that you were loved. It would be hard for you not to love him too.
Obliging him with a kiss, you murmured, “I’m hungry.”
He sat up. “Would you like me to call for dinner?”
“We can eat in the dining room,” you said around a graceful yawn.
“The sitting room?” he offered. “No need for formality.”
You did feel like cuddling some more between bites, and so you agreed. “The sitting room.”
"You're a sweetheart." He brushed his fingers up your spine, making you shiver in your dress.
"You tell me all the time," you laughed, leaning into his neck. It was prickly, which meant he would shave in the morning. You didn't like him leaving you alone in bed, but his cheeks were so smooth afterward that it was nearly worth it.
"What did you request for dinner?" he asked, smoothing a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"Something pasta," you said, and he hummed, pecking your hairline. You reached up to fidget with the knot of his tie. "You're so sweet."
"Hm?" He looked confused.
"You're sweet to me." Shifting on his lap, you giggled when he tapped your side. "You are! I know you want to be mean and scary but you're not." Lifting your chin, you nosed under his chin. "Maybe I should sit on your lap during all your meetings. Then you'd be nicer to whoever you're speaking with."
"I don't want to be nice to them," he grumbled. "They won't respect me if I'm nice."
"You'd be surprised." Tapping his nose, you looked up and meet his eyes. "But if you just want to be sweet with me, that's fine."
Coriolanus huffed, lifting you up with both hands on your waist so he could stand. "You're the only one who deserves it."
"And Fish."
"Fish does not deserve it."
"Your cat will," you said smoothly, and he chuckled.
"Of course." He slipped his fingers between yours and guided you out of the room. There was something peaceful about the early evening when it was just the two of you. Winding down from the day, he was so relaxed, eager to spend time with you.
Even if he wasn't soft to anybody else, you liked that he was soft sometime. A person in his position, in any position really, couldn't be stern all the time. It would kill them. If he insisted on this firm, unmoving persona in public, you would bring his other side out of his shell in private.
At the end of the day, he was yours, and at the end of the day he was truly himself.
Question for Millie: what’s your favorite holiday?
“I like relaxed holidays... Christmas and Thanksgiving, things like that. I like ones where it’s all the family and close friends just relaxing and enjoying each other’s presence. I really like that.”
need to know fish's reaction when he first sees clark as superman😭😭
thank you thank you thank you for the request Daisy <3 <3 <3
౨ৎ꣑ৎfish sees clark as superman౨ৎ꣑ৎ
fem reader x clark kent
large text version here!
"Pink tie?"
You hummed into his mouth, one leg wrapped around the back of his thigh. "Keep."
He scratched your neck with his day-old stubble as his lips moved down, caught in a haze. "What about the pink one…" Now his hair was tickling your nose as he pressed a kiss to your collarbone. "…with pink stripes?"
"Keep." You let yourself fall backwards, supported by the nest of pillows and blankets on his side of the mattress. Most of them were yours, but they migrated to where he slept the same way you did. "You look wonderful in pink."
"Wonderful." Clark crawled up the bed using his elbows, settling on top of you like the world's biggest weighted blanket. He kissed your nose, nuzzling it aggressively. Your leg re-routed its way back around him, heel digging into his bottom. When you tilted your chin up, he obliged, lowering his mouth to yours.
"You always look wonderful," you mumbled into his mouth. "Do you like the pink ties?"
"Yeah." He propped himself up on his elbows so he wouldn't flatten you. "I just wanna know if you like them."
"I love you in pink. Any color really." You smoothed his curls, smiling when they bounced back to his forehead.
"Should I switch my suit colors to pink and pinker?"
"Probably." You hummed happily as he kissed you some more, rolling onto his side and pulling you in so he wouldn't crush you. "Can we have waffles for dinner?"
"Mhm." Both your eyelids were kissed, then your temple. "Soon as we finish organizing."
"Right." You sat up, surveying the mess on the floor. "I forgot. Kissing you's more fun than going through our closet."
"Hey, we were very productive while we were kissing." He smiled, thumbing your hair behind your ear. "Went through all my ties and your dresses."
"You weren't very helpful with my dresses," you said, poking his chest. "Apparently I'm not getting rid of any of them."
"Well." He pouted, fiddling with the strap of your cozy white bralette. "You're pretty in everything you wear."
"Honey, we're supposed to be saving space." You gave him a gentle kiss. "That's why we started cleaning."
"How about I get rid of some stuff so you can have more space?" he suggested, face half pressed into your neck. "And then you don't have to lose any dresses."
You scratched his head absentmindedly. "That's not very fair."
"Eh." He shrugged, arms folding around you. "I don't need so many white shirts."
He was darling. You opened your mouth to tell him so when he tensed, looking up with wide eyes. Shoulders slumping, you smoothed his hair again. "Go. I'll be right here when you get back."
"Okay." Clark held his lips to your forehead for a long minute before getting up, disappearing in the blink of an eye. You sighed, stretching and getting up. Fish padded in from the other room, hopping on the bed and settling on Clark's pillow. At least you would have some company while you finished organizing.
You heard from other couples that moving in together was a test on the relationship, but it only made you love him more. He packed your things up so gingerly, using the excuse of his super-strength to carry everything up and down the stairs. Fish was the only thing you handled since he had an aversion to almost everything about Clark.
As evidenced by the lack of activity this afternoon despite intentions, you were still getting used to living in such close proximity. What was the point of doing anything else when you could kiss all the time? He certainly had that mentality, and you were powerless to resist him when he looked the way he did all the time.
Fish settled into Clark's new apartment right away, quickly finding every nook possible to hide in and spring out at Clark from. Often when you got off track, Fish would jolt you back to reality with a loud, well-placed meow.
Clark lovingly set up his scratching post, scattering well-loved mouse toys all over the place so Fish would feel at home. You didn't think you could love him more and he proved you wrong at every turn.
Just as you hung up the last of Clark's collared shirts, there was a whoosh behind you, your hair flying out to the side. You smiled, turning around to see Clark in his full glory as Superman. Hair slicked back, one curl bouncing forward. He was so handsome in his cape and high-necked suit. You couldn't resist reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck. "Hi."
"Hi." When you stood on your tiptoes, bouncing, he belted his arms around you, lifting you up into his hold. "Hi, baby."
"Safe?"
"Yes." Clark swung you back and forth, and you giggled. "Nothing too crazy."
You pressed your lips to his, affirming to him that nothing was more attractive to you than when he came back from helping someone. He kissed you smooth and soft, thumbs rubbing the soft part of your lower back.
A startlingly loud meow broke you off, and you landed on Clark's toes, noticing his boots were off. He turned you both around to see Fish sitting at the entrance of the closet, glaring with all his might.
Laughing, you thumped your head on Clark's chest. "Oh no."
"He's never seen me in uniform." Clark's shoulders slumped. "Aw man."
You got off his feet, going to your cat and picking him up, bringing him closer. "It's okay, Fishy. It's Clark, remember? You know Clark."
"Don't think that's gonna help, sweetheart," he mumbled, shuffling on his feet.
"C'mon," you coaxed as you leaned against Clark, Fish still in your arms. Your cat hissed, and Clark jolted back, his hand still at your hip. "Oh, Fish that's not how we treat our friends."
Clark exhaled through his nose, resting his chin on top of your head. "Honey-" Fish reached back and bopped him on the arm.
"Okay, maybe that's enough." You set your cat down, but he circled your legs, nudging you away from Clark. "Hey! Fishy, I'm not in any trouble."
"I'll change out of my suit," Clark suggested, stepping back.
"Okay." You picked up Fish again, and he started purring as you walked back into the bedroom. Lying down on the bed, you entertained him with chin scratches and his favorite of your blankets until Clark returned.
He poked his head into the room, eyes landing on Fish. "Safe?"
"C'mere." You reached for him and he obliged, kneeling at your feet and wrapping his arms around your middle, face buried in your tummy. "Fish just needed to get used to you, that's all."
"I'm s'posed to be a friend to all." His lips turned down. "Want him to like me."
"Oh, Clark." You sank your hands into his hair, scratching gently. His curls were bouncy, fun to play with. "He'll come around. I know it."
"Darling." His deep voice sent a shiver up your spine, especially paired with his choice of pet name. Clark lifted himself higher, lips grazing yours. He was still on his knees.
"Who?"
"You." He kissed your chin. "Always you."
Clenching your legs around his waist, you kissed him again. "Honey?"
"Hm?"
"I think you look very handsome in your suit."
"Thank you, sweetheart," he breathed, gazing at you. "I think you look beautiful all the time."
"I look silly right now," you protested.
"You look beautiful," Clark insisted, thumbs tracing the edge of your bralette. "'Specially like this."
Smiling lazily, you smoothed your hands over his shoulders. "You like having me at home?"
"It's my favorite." He got up to sit on the bed, shifting back and drawing you into his lap in a smooth motion. "You finished organizing."
"I did." You hid your face in his neck, body curving to fit him. "Fish helped."
"Of course he did." Clark petted you lovingly. "I love when he helps you."
"D'you think he'll help me make waffles for dinner?" When you slipped food back into the conversation, he grinned broadly.
"I think he'll help you pick out a movie while I make waffles for dinner." Clark gave you one more kiss and stood up, bringing you with him. He deposited you on the couch in the living room, and you watched him move about the kitchen, light on his feet and humming something under his breath.
Fish hopped on the couch with you, meowing and nudging under your arm. You smiled, bringing him into you. "That's our Clark, Fishy. He loves you. He loves everyone so much that he puts on a different outfit to go help them." Fish settled on your lap while you turned the television on. By the time you selected a movie, Clark had a plate of waffles, a little crispier than you would have done, in front of you.
"Found strawberries in the fridge." He set your plate on the coffee table. "I can make more if you want more, sweetheart. Just tell me."
When he sat down, you behaved as though he was a pillow, spreading out over him and reclining in his arms. He kissed the top of your head, taking your plate to balance on his knee. Fish hesitated, but settled by your thigh, allowing himself to rest his cheek on Clark's leg. Peace at last.
Fic request with Coryo or Billy- they messed up so they are sleeping on the couch but they hate being away from you so they just keep making up excuses to come in the bedroom like to bring you water- and you finally give in cause the pouting is so adorable and you don’t want to sleep without them either.
౨ৎ꣑ৎyou won't let billy sleep with you౨ৎ꣑ৎ
fem reader x billy the kid
here's your poll winner darlings!!! thank you to @lopsnpopss for always sending in the best requests <3
“Baby, I’m sorry.”
You turned around, making your way into the bedroom with Fish hot on your heels. It was as if he knew you were in distress, knew you needed some sort of company. Behind you, there were footsteps, but you hardly paid them any attention. The kitchen was all cleaned up from tonight, the meal that was supposed to be Billy’s part in Fish’s belly and part stowed away for lunch tomorrow.
You heard another “baby” from behind you, but kept your vow of silence, pulling out your drawer and taking your time selecting a nightdress. From the corner of your eye, you could see Billy standing close to the doorway, Fish staring him down a few feet from you.
Finally, you turned to face him, taking in the guilt in his eyes, his wrinkled collar, the haziness of exhaustion veiled over his body. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes when you faced him, but it quickly went out when you said, “I need to change.”
“Sweetheart,” he pleaded, lips turning down. “C’mon, I-”
You folded your arms. “Two weeks, Billy. It’s been two weeks since you’ve been home in time for dinner and two weeks of you telling me you’d make it in time.”
“I got held up-”
“At work, yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” you cut him off, tossing your nightdress on the bed and picking up Fish when he curled around your ankles, snuggling him into your chest. “And then all the boys wanted to go to the bar, and then you couldn’t turn them down and you wanted a drink.” You recited it dryly, turning around again. Fish purred supportively, nuzzling against your chin.
There was a beat of silence. Then he dared to speak. “We aren’t at the bar every night.”
Rolling your eyes, you set Fish gently on the bed, reaching for your nightdress again. “Out.”
Billy’s eyes were like a puppy’s when it’d been reprimanded. “I wanted to come home to you, baby. I wanted to-” He cut himself off, rubbing his neck. “We…I’ve gotta make a good impression with these people, honey…”
Giving him an unimpressed look, you retrieved one of the blankets folded at the foot of the bed, walking towards him. The hope in his eyes almost made you feel guilty, but you held firm, shoving the blanket into his chest. “There’s plenty of wood by the fire. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Sweetheart…” he looked so dismayed, but when you lifted your chin, his shoulders slumped. “Can I have my pillow-?” He cut himself off when he saw Fish already settled on it.
You raised your eyebrows. “Goodnight, Billy.” His lips turned down, and you turned around, reaching for the buttons of your dress and starting to unhook them. You heard his footsteps retreating, and then the door shut.
Releasing a breath, you raised your hand to your mouth, sniffling as tears escaped your eyes. You sank to sit on the bed, arms wrapping around yourself as you cried. The heaviness of it all had finally strained you, breaking it all down to dust. Fish padded over, meowing softly and nudging your side. You sank your fingers into his soft black fur, grateful for the companionship.
Billy’s new position at the ranch hadn’t come easy, and you were well aware of it. There weren’t many men who’d hire someone whose name was often accompanied with the word outlaw, even if he’d given up the gun ages ago. This rancher had rather progressive views, and he’d hired Billy upon meeting him, happy to have another hard worker on his team. He’d been so happy upon coming home, so proud to tell you that he’d gotten a job, that he could provide for you, his girl, his love.
You’d celebrated with him, thrilled that the life you’d both always wanted was at your fingertips. “Things are gonna be different now, darlin’,” he’d promised, peppering kisses across your cheeks. “We’re gonna have a new life, a good one. Just you and me.” So in love that you’d believed him, you’d let him kiss you and cuddle you the rest of the night, thrilled about how things were changing.
It was why that first night when he hadn’t returned until long past dark, you hadn’t said a word. He’d apologized, promised he’d be home earlier the next night. The same apologies had continued over and over for the next weeks, until now, when you couldn’t take it anymore.
Maybe it wouldn’t have bothered you so much if he hadn’t promised so adamantly that things would be different. When he was on the run, he’d disappear from you for days at a time, the law tracking his every move. Billy would come to you late, the mattress dipping in the early hours of the morning, his warm arms sliding around you letting you know he was finally home. This all reminded you too much of it. Of the worry, the waiting, the promises.
A stab of guilt caught you in its net as you changed into your nightdress and curled up with Fish again, his purring the only thing grounding you for now. Pulling the blankets over the two of you, you shut your eyes, trying to erase it. You didn’t deserve to feel this way when he was providing for you and making sure you had everything you needed. But you had everything except the thing you wanted most, your reason.
Sniffling, you petted Fish, trying to distract yourself. In the morning you would talk it out, find a way to make it better. It was okay to have one night of feeling sorry, you reasoned. You’d be selfless again in the morning, the perfect wife he needed.
There was a soft knock on the door. You looked up as Billy entered sheepishly. “Need my sleep clothes.”
You sat up on your elbows, eyebrows raised. “You can’t sleep in your underthings?”
He shrugged. “Need fresh ones.”
“Fine.” You laid back down, focusing determinedly on Fish until Billy shut the door again.
Petting Fish absentmindedly, you smiled when he rolled onto his back, exposing his belly for scratches. It was adorable to see him like this when there was nobody on the other side of the bed for him to threaten. Usually, it was a game of your cat whacking your husband so he could sneak in between the two of you and cuddle into your chest.
Another knock. You looked up as Billy entered, holding his work clothes bunched up in one hand. He gave you half a smile, moving carefully. “I, ah…need to put these away.”
This time you didn’t look away, staring at him as he took his time folding his things and meticulously placing them in his drawer. It was peculiar since usually he just shoved them in with everything else. Billy nodded at you before he shut the door, and you flopped back down, staring at the ceiling, at the shadow of your hand in the candlelight.
Shivering, you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, and Fish’s purring intensified. You couldn’t have found a cuddlier cat if you tried. From the time he was a kitten, he’d loved snuggling close on cold nights, loved snuggling at any time, any place, really.
When the third knock sounded, you sat all the way up, exhaling through your nose. Billy slowly opened the door, balancing a glass of water in one hand. You stared at him as he walked slowly to the bedside, setting the glass down with a quiet thunk. Folding his hands in front of him, he said, “Thought you might be thirsty.” He backed up. “I’ll just-”
“Billy,” you said, exasperated. He paused, and you saw that flicker of hope in his eyes again. Moving Fish to your other side, you pulled back the covers on that side, tilting your head. “Just come here.”
He reminded you of a puppy again when his face lit up and he scurried toward the bed. Billy laid down next to you, his head on the pillow coated with black fur. He held out his arms, nearly pleading, and you suppressed rolling your eyes before you shifted into them.
His mouth pressed into your hair, and you melted, nuzzling into him before you could help it. Billy swayed back and forth, humming something you recognized, one of your favorite of the Irish folk tunes passed down from his mother.
“‘M sorry, baby,” he said quietly, rubbing your back. Fish was purring still, settled on your pillow since your head was on Billy’s chest, and it was a delightful mix. Your two boys, practically singing you to sleep.
“I’m sorry too,” you breathed, and he held you tighter, a loving grip.
“Nothin’ to be sorry for,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. He hid his nose in your hair. “I’m takin’ the day with you tomorrow.”
“I thought-”
“The rancher knows I’ve gotta girl,” Billy soothed. “Was his idea for me to take the day off. Guess it’s obvious how much I’ve missed you.”
The guilt was back tenfold. Your sweet, selfless husband, and here you were complaining. “Oh, Billy-”
“No, no.” He traced a heart into your back. “I know what you’re thinkin’. I know you. I should’ve been around more, no matter what. You were right, darlin’, and I’m gonna make it better.”
He kept you safely tucked into his arms, and you made plans silently for a repentance of your own. He was too good to you, and you needed him to know that more often. For now though, you listened to his heartbeat, and the lull of Fish’s happy purr, letting it rock you into your dreams.
Ugh! I hate when tumblr does that because now I can’t even remember what the asks were.😔
But anywho after reading “Uptown Girl” (which was PHENOMENAL btw) I was kinda thinking about the part where Billy doesn’t like her to be all alone while her fathers gone, and it made me think of like what if Billy can’t get to her for a period of time while her fathers away and something happens to her? Maybe someone from Billy’s past shows up? AND AND AND I was also thinking what would happen if readers dad were to hire someone to look after reader while he’s away. Like how would Billy take that? ALSO, what if this person isn’t really kind to reader, maybe makes some hurtful comments, how would Billy react when he hears about it?
I KNOW THAT WAS A LOT IM SORRY BUT THAT FIC WAS SOOO GOOD IT GOT ME THINKING
౨ৎ꣑ৎUptown Girl (Part Two)౨ৎ꣑ৎ
fem reader x billy the kid
thank you my darling @phantomamour for both proofing and brainstorming with me <3 and much thanks to @rafesdoeeyeddoll for the request <3
Billy bounded up the porch steps, sweeping you into his arms like you weighed nothing and spinning you around, your shriek of delight pure music to his ears. Your arms slid around his neck and you flicked his hat off his head, drawing a laugh out of him. “What’d my hat ever do to you?”
“Maybe I wanna kiss you and it’s in the way,” you said lowly before nudging your lips onto his. A smile bloomed under your kiss and he adjusted you in his arms, your feet still dangling from the ground. The sky was a vibrant blue, painted with streaks of white inching across the horizon. He couldn’t have asked for a better first day alone with you if he tried.
Setting you on the porch railing, he kept his hands at your sides, not wanting to send you toppling into the daisies below. You smiled, fingers finding the sides of his face and drumming over his stubble. “I made iced tea. D’you want some?”
A brief image of sitting in the cool kitchen on one of the wooden chairs around the table with a cold glass of clinking ice cubes in one hand and you in the other, perched on his knee, was enough to make his mouth water. Billy opened his mouth to respond with a hearty yes, when he spotted something unfamiliar over your shoulder. A man- not one he recognized, which was a good sign- with his back turned to them, wide stance presumptuous to Billy. He knew the schedule inside and out and he was the only man who was supposed to be on the property at this time.
Eyes narrowing, Billy nodded in his direction. “You know him, baby?”
You tossed a look behind you, shrugging and turning back around in an instant. “His name’s Wyatt. Daddy hired him to keep an eye on me while he’s gone.” Hands drifting down, you began to play with the handkerchief around his neck.
“Huh.” Billy frowned, bringing you closer to him. His voice dropped to a whisper. “That mean we have to keep quiet about us?”
“No.” You waved a hand, the little smile on your face like a sunbeam. “He’ll be gone the second Daddy gets home and pays him. ‘Sides, his only job is to make sure I’m not in danger. And you’re not dangerous, honey.”
The pet name melted the edges of his tension. He threw away the annoyed thought that your father didn’t trust him alone to keep you safe, remembering that the man didn’t know he’d be so inclined. Billy kissed your forehead, lifting you up into him again, your legs winding around his middle. “How ‘bout that iced tea, then?”
You laughed like a church bell and hid your face in his sweaty neck as he carried you inside. In the back of his mind the annoyance of the unexpected intruder still remained though, and he eyed the man as he followed the two of you into the house.
All day, Wyatt remained, pesky as a mosquito bite. Billy wouldn’t have minded him so much if he’d kept his mouth shut, but when he’d tried to take you with him when he went to mend a fence on one side of the property, the other man had stepped in. “Don’t think she should be leavin’ the house.”
Brow furrowed adorably, you’d clung to Billy’s hand. He’d never loved the little pout you sometimes wore when you didn’t get your way more than right now. “I’ll be safe with Billy. I wanna go with him.”
“Don’t think so.” Wyatt eyed Billy, and he found himself standing up straighter, instincts telling him to rest a hand on his gun.
Your lower lip trembled. “We won’t be gone an hour.”
“You stay here if you know what’s good for you,” Wyatt said dryly, gaze boring holes into you.
“Well maybe I don’t then.” You turned your back, making to walk away with Billy, when Wyatt’s hand shot forward, yanking your wrist so your fingers let go of Billy’s.
He immediately sprang into action, taking a step forward. “I don’t care what you’re bein’ paid for. You don’t put hands on her.”
“‘S okay Billy,” you tried, wide eyes darting from him to Wyatt.
“Try it again and you’ll be missin’ a finger.” Billy ignored your protests, holding out his hand again. “C’mere, sweetheart.” You scurried over to his side, and he wound his arm around your waist. Casting one final glare at Wyatt, he began to guide you away. “Her pa won’t be too pleased to find out his help’s been hurting her.”
Your outing to the edge of the property and back was colored with your fear of the one who’d been put forth to protect you, and it only made Billy dislike the man more. He spent a good ten minutes under the shade of a tree with you, holding you and trying to quietly tell you there was no need to worry. The week that was supposed to be a glorious break from all the sneaking around the two of you had to do in order to be in love was now tainted with worry. Billy would keep you safe no matter what, and that impulse was heightened by a hundred now.
When you returned to the house together Wyatt was waiting on the porch with his arms crossed. You shrank back a little, steps becoming smaller, but Billy locked eyes with him, face hardened. Nobody would mess with his girl if he had anything to say about it.
That evening Billy was heading back toward the house, having begrudgingly left you alone with Wyatt while he went to check on the horses, when he heard a crash, the shrill sound of something shattering. His feet began to bolt him up the rest of the way, breaths heaving by the time he reached you in the kitchen. Your face was wet with tears and you were kneeling on the ground, reaching for the shattered remains of what looked to be a plate. Wyatt was standing above you, and while Billy only caught the tail end of his speech, he didn’t like what he heard.
“...spoiled goddamn brat,” Wyatt spat at you, voice jagged with something working overtime to make you hurt.
“Get out.” Billy glared at him, gesturing sharply with his head toward the door. “You’re done for the day. Go.”
Wyatt brushed past him, muttering something Billy was glad he couldn’t make out. When he looked at you, he softened, stepping over the broken china and reaching out his hands. “Don’t pick anything up, sweet girl. Can’t have you cutting your hands.”
You looked up at him with teary eyes, and when he drew you up into him you buried your face in his chest, a muffled sob vibrating into him. He’d absorb every sorrow you ever had if it meant you’d feel better in no time. When you spoke, your words stood on spindly legs. “I w-was getting out plates f-for dinner and…and he came up behind me and it s-scared me and I d-dropped Mama’s favorite china…” the rest of it trailed off into tears and Billy stroked your hair gently, kissing the top of your head.
“Shh, shh,” he muttered, taking deep breaths and hoping you’d follow accordingly. “It’s okay. You didn’t do a thing wrong, sunshine.” Billy tucked some of your hair behind your ear when you pulled back to look at him, thumbing your cheek. “I’ll get the broom and you sit down for a minute, ‘kay? You must’ve worked real hard on dinner cause it smells good.” That poked a smile through your grey clouds, and you nodded, sinking into the chair he pulled out.
With time and effort, Billy was able to coax a smile, then a laugh out of you as the two of you dished up the meat and potatoes you’d prepared. He lit a fire after dinner and sat in the cozy chair he always did when your father had him to dinner, pulling you to sit across his lap. You snuggled close, and he tucked the blanket you’d brought over around your knees. Wyatt’s comments were long forgotten, and Billy held you tight until your eyes grew heavy with sleep.
Getting ready for bed was another kind of domestic bliss he couldn’t get enough of. You pulled your pretty nightdress on sluggishly and he folded his clothes and left them on the chair by your window.
When he was lying in bed, stretching his arms out for you, you crawled into them instantly, some silent force closing the space between you. Billy pressed his nose to your hair and inhaled, the distinct scent of your perfume and your flowers and you wrapping around him like smoke. There couldn’t be a heaven because this was it, the bounds of perfection reached and exceeded with you safely tucked away in his arms.
The last thing Billy had wanted to do was leave you at the ranch with only that pathetic excuse for a man. But he had no choice. The house was out of candles and he needed to get more feed for the sheep. You assured him on the way out that you could handle yourself with Wyatt, giving Billy a kiss goodbye and sending him off with a packed lunch. Now as he licked mustard off his fingers, he prayed taking a quick break from riding home to eat hadn’t left you at the mercy of your supposed security.
Tonight he’d help you in the kitchen, stirring whatever he needed to and holding you around the waist from behind when his assistance wasn’t needed. You’d mumbled something about making a cake for dessert as you’d drifted off to sleep last night, and he’d been thrilled when he saw you collecting eggs for it that morning.
Spurring his horse on in the direction of the house, Billy slipped into a careful daydream about having you in a house of your own, living just the two of you somewhere beautiful together. Coming home…seeing you step outside to greet him, wedding ring on your finger, dress starting to get tighter as your belly grew…
He snapped out of it when he reached the house, noticing Wyatt pacing in front of it. He looked worried and Billy wondered if you’d run off after he’d said something or such. His mind darted to your favorite hiding places around the ranch.
When he got off, Wyatt rushed forward. “Your girl…she…they…”
“What?” Who was they?
“Someone showed up…an…an…they took her. Just rode off with her.” Wyatt ran a hand over his hair, his eyes wide.
Billy’s heart leapt, and as he put the pieces together he froze. “You didn’t run after her?”
“They were so fast and-”
A nearly inhumane anger pooled in Billy’s lungs and began to jolt up in spikes within him. He seized Wyatt by the shirt. “You were supposed to protect her!”
Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. “You think I didn’t try.”
Letting go of him, Billy stared at him in disgust as he stumbled to the ground. “You watched them take her and didn’t do a damn thing. You’re pathetic.”
Breathing heavy, Wyatt shot back, “If she wasn’t-” He was cut off by a cry, his hand flying to his opposite palm. Billy lowered his gun, sheathing it back in its holster.
Turning back to his horse, he quickly adjusted the saddle, not wanting to waste a single other look on him. “You’d better be gone when I come back with her or I’ll shoot somewhere else.” He didn’t wait to hear a response before he swung up onto his horse again, riding out with one objective in mind.
It had to have been someone Billy knew. Your father had few enemies, and they mostly resided in cities far away from here. None of those men would have a motive to take you like someone who hated Billy would. It was an emotion he’d hoped never to introduce you to. You deserved nothing but happy things, sunshine and fresh flowers and coffee made just the way you liked it. He’d tried so hard to give you those things that the worst thing had come to pass.
Someone who had taken you would surely want him to find you, so they could bargain. The only bargain Billy had in mind was a bullet to someone’s head. He scourged his mind for hiding spots, maybe a cave or an old military base or…
His thoughts trailed off when he saw the flash of crimson in the dirt. There it was again, not too far ahead. Billy steered his horse in that direction, hoping that he’d find another patch within not too much distance. When he did his heart soared. Had you left the trail for him or had it happened by circumstance? Either way, it meant you were hurt, and that same murderous intent arose within him.
Billy followed the trail of blood to an unsteady looking house. He couldn’t hear anything from the outside which was both a relief and a source of worry. If there was screaming he would know you were here, but he didn’t want you to be in that much pain.
Drawing his gun at the door, he was able to open it without any creaking or alert. When Billy crept into the house, keeping his footsteps light, he kept his eyes peeled for any disturbance, for anybody who dared step between his girl and him. He scoured the first floor, but only when he arrived at the back of it around a corner did he find you, not bound or gagged, just slumped into the wall, a cut on your wrist crusted over with dry blood. He could see a bruise beginning to form on your cheek.
Billy dropped to his knees in front of you, caressing your cheek with one gentle hand. He watched you stir, wince as your eyes opened but soften when you realized him. “Billy?”
“I’ve got you, sweet girl,” he promised, bringing you closer. You winced, and he felt a tear prick at his eye. Your hurt caused him more pain than he could ever say.
The clomp of boots on the wood caused Billy’s head to snap up, and he whipped his wrist into the air, firing before he could make out who it was. The man dropped to the ground like a leaf in the fall, and you let out a dry sob.
“Oh my baby…” Billy gathered you into his arms, lifting you as he stood. “C’mon. It’s okay, I’m gonna get you out.”
“W-wanna go home,” you sniffled, fingers curling around his shirt.
“We’re goin’ home,” he promised, walking carefully and making certain he wouldn’t trip over the man he’d just shot. “Sweetie just hang on for me and we’ll get on out.”
“Hurts.” He adjusted his hold on you, kissing the top of your head.
“I know, I know,” Billy soothed, and you hid your face in his neck. Good, he thought, you’d be safe there.
The journey was a blur he only remembered in your pained cries and little jolts of discomfort. Thankfully Wyatt wasn’t there when he returned- he didn’t know if he could have handled seeing him.
Billy managed to get you up the stairs and in bed, stripping off your bloody dress carefully and finding you something cozy to wear. Your bottom lip trembled like an earthquake. “That dress was new.”
“I’ll get you another,” he promised, finally deciding to take one of his own shirts and put it around you, buttoning it up in the middle. The sleeves fell over your arms, and you shivered, looking so small there sitting on your wide bed.
Sighing, he worked his boots off and kicked his trousers away, unbuttoning his shirt too. His hat was on your chair and the window was shut tight, all the doors in the house locked. Not a single other person was going to be able to break in- he wasn’t leaving you alone for a second. If any other errands needed to be run he’d take you with him. It wasn’t worth the risk-it never had been.
Billy settled in his spot next to you, holding out and arm and smiling despite himself when you burrowed into his chest, breathing finally softening. He’d stand guard while you dreamt of good things, he hoped.
As you drifted off, you reached one hand over, and he held perfectly still as if it were a butterfly finding a perch. When your fingers found a place over his heart, his hand reached up to grasp them, lifting them to his lips for a second before resting your palm back there, still joined with his.
He thought about having to tell your father what had happened, and trying to explain that it was part his fault. Maybe he’d shoulder most of the blame on Wyatt. It wasn’t like he was around to protest. Besides, had Billy been here instead of him, the only evidence would be an unmarked grave in the woods instead of your emotional and physical scars he’d give all his time to healing. You shifted comfortably and he adjusted his hand to lie flat on your back, making sure the blanket was covering you enough.
“Just rest,” he whispered, grazing his lips over your forehead in a light kiss. “Everythin’s okay. I’ve got you, baby.”
More than anything he understood now why your father had spoiled and protected you beyond belief. There was so little sunshine in this world that he’d wanted to keep his part of it safe. He wouldn’t be responsible for the light he’d been given to nurture being put out. Billy felt a surge of gratitude for it now, and he made a silent vow to keep it up as long as he could. You were an angel, so pure he was sure you’d been sent to him by his Ma, a goodness to brighten all his bad.
“Sweet dreams, angel,” he whispered, watching you dream. You were safe now, as long as you both shall live.
she breaks something by accident in front of him and she’s trying to hold back tears as she apologizes profusely and tries to clean it up fast and his heart just hurts in his chest because he knows her head is telling her over and over in that moment that he’ll leave her for something so small
and of course before he can stop her she’s got her hand cut on broken glass and bloody and she’s just crying at that point and apologizing even more because she feels like a burden for getting hurt
oh I fear this one hit too close to home
(edit: this did not start as this, but it became very long)
⋆౨ৎbilly when you break something⋆౨ৎ
fem reader x billy the kid
The sound of the glass hitting the ground hit your ears before you realized what had happened. There was a brief moment in time when you were frozen, eyes wide as the centers of daisies. It had been completely innocent- you'd been laughing at something he said, sweeping your hand out in an exaggerated motion. And now the moment was broken, all innocence sapped out of the room.
Apologies flooded from your lips, and you dropped to your knees in an instant, reaching for the scattered shards. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"
Across from you, Billy was standing up, reaching for you. "Baby-"
Your breath hitched on your tenth apology, and you took in a staggered breath, a few of the larger pieces of the glass gathered in a tiny pile in front of you. Heart pounding, the thoughts running through your mind were frantic, awfully firm and unyielding. He's gonna leave you. You made a mistake. He's gonna hate you now, you don't deserve him.
Stepping around the glass, Billy tried to get to you, and you kept your head down, hair falling around the sides of your face like a curtain. "I'll fix it...I'm sorry, I'll fix it..."
Billy knelt beside you, his hand on your arm, trying to meet your eyes. "Sweetheart, it's-"
A sharp gasp interrupted him. You'd reached for a piece of glass without thinking and now your hand was cut in the space below your thumb. Humiliation flooded your system, and your cheeks burned as hot tears began to cascade down your face, stinging like salt in a wound. Nononononono you made a mistake, you made a mistake-
Breaths uneven, you fell back against the leg of your chair, trying to steady yourself, holding your hand to your chest. Blood was dripping down your finger, and you drew your knees up, looking away from Billy and shutting your eyes as if that would make him disappear. You wanted to redo this moment, to fix everything you'd done.
His hand was gentle on your knee, and you opened your eyes at his touch. Billy's other palm was extended, and he murmured, "Lemme see."
Against your will, you gave him your hand, and he reached up to his neck, unraveling the bandana he wore there. The cloth was pressed to your hand soon after, and he held it there for a moment until he was satisfied, tying it across your knuckles.
The entire time he was tending to you, a bucket of guilt was poured over your head like rain in the springtime. You'd done a bad thing, you'd ruined your evening and here he was, being so kind and sweet just like always. A fresh wave of tears fell down your cheeks in rivers, and his eyes softened.
Billy slid his arm around your waist, tugging at you. "C'mere...c'mere, sweet girl. It's okay. I promise."
You moved into him like he was your gravity. Billy held you tight to his chest, leaning his cheek to the top of your head. "Shh, it's okay. It was just an accident, baby."
"I'm sorry-" you choked, voice strung with a high pitch. You were clinging to him like he was a lifeline, his scent and being engulfing you the way it always did. And the fact that he didn't even seem mad made you feel worse.
"You didn't do anything wrong. It's okay," he whispered, kissing the top of your head and letting his lips linger there. "Oh my love...my baby..." Billy shifted you onto his lap, away from the precarious shards of glass still scattered and hidden across the floor.
It was quiet for a minute, except for the sounds of Billy adjusting your legs across his so not a single portion of your skin was touching the ground. He held you for a stretch of time that you didn't bother to count.
When it had been a moment, he began to murmur little questions against your head, and you responded with a nod or a shake.
"Are you tired?" Shake.
He rubbed his thumb soothingly up and down your arm. "D'you wanna get in bed? Just to get cozy?" Nod.
Billy nudged his lips against your hairline, hugging you tight to him. You felt a flood of love and warmth in your chest, replacing the tautness of anxiety that occupied the space before. He isn't mad.
"You know I love you?" he whispered, the tenderness of his tone nearly bringing you to tears again. Billy tilted your chin up, searching your eyes.
In his face you saw something heavenly reflected back. Nobody would call your Billy pure, but his love was. It existed outside whatever wrongs he'd committed, whatever sins stood in need of repentance. The boundless emotion you saw in his eyes was too big to ever be set off course by something like an accident.
He used a hand to smooth your hair, tuck it behind your ear. "I love you so much." Cupping your cheek in his big palm, his lips twitched up a little sadly when you leaned into it. "Now you know?"
A KISS TO A SCAR, BIRTHMARK, INJURY, OR OTHER MARKING WITH CORYO ꣑ৎ
Recovery was almost worse than the before of not knowing. Coriolanus had paced and worried and nearly driven himself insane, but it was nothing compared to the heavy guilt he felt now watching you sleep.
After a full twenty-four hours since you'd gone missing, the Peacekeepers he'd charged with locating you had found you tied up in an old warehouse on the outskirts of the Capitol. The work of rebels no doubt, who would stop at nothing to hurt him and not stop to consider that you were innocent in all of it. You were the flower in his garden of thorns, his softest spot, the shine to his unearned gold.
You had been returned to him bruised and bloodied, with a looming wound that the doctor had grimly said would leave a scar. Coriolanus hardly cared about it. All that mattered was that you were safe and back where he could hold you, protect you.
"Mm," you muttered next to him where you were lying, your eyelashes fluttering as you were roused from sleep. Coriolanus set his papers on the nightstand and turned his full attention to you, setting a hand on your thigh and rubbing gently.
"Shh," he soothed. "It's alright. You're alright."
"Coryo," you mumbled, reaching for his hand. The silk sleeve of your pajama shirt slid down, revealing the reddened scar climbing from your knuckles to near your elbow. He watched your eyes widen, your lower lip begin to wobble-
He caught your hand, settling down to lay beside you. Coriolanus pressed his lips to spot on your wrist, rubbing the other part on your knuckles. "It's okay, sweetheart."
"It's s-so..." You looked like you were about to cry, but he cooed softly, kissing the part near your elbow.
"Nothing a part of you could be anything but beautiful," he muttered, and your breathing softened. He thought to pull your sleeve back up, but decided against it. There was no reason to hide any of it. It was a sign of your strength and while he felt guilt over it, it was accompanied with pride. You were here. You were alive, safe right beside him.
