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phantomwritezstuff077 · 10 days ago

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The Runt: (A Father Figure! Billy the Kid Fic)

Laurie had somehow convinced Jesse to let her go on a little cattle run with the rest of the guys. She was almost never allowed to go on those things because she was ‘too young’ or ‘too small’ or ‘too weak.’

Laurie, also known as Lauren (if you were to call her by her full name), was what the Seven Rivers gang called the runt of the litter.

The runt of the litter.

That was what Laurie was.

Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken: (Billy the Kid x Horse Trainer!Reader)

Billy never thought he’d find himself in this situation, but here was, standing in the middle of a small round pen in Tunstall’s ranch with a terrified mare shying away from him whenever he even dared to take a step forward.

He had come across the mustang when he had gone into town on a supply run. He walked out of the general store with everything the gang needed when he witnessed a man cruelly beating the animal after she had collapsed. Billy’s parents had raised and taught him that animals were not property and that they were to be treated with love and respect, they had just as much of a right to live as man did. And it angered the outlaw to his core when he saw the terrified mare being treated so poorly.

tags:

@slutforsnow @larussos-left-sock

Latest Fanfics: A Little Writer's Meme

tagged by: @sincere1ystar and @fictional-at-heart, thank you both sm for thinking of me 🥹

Rules: Post the beginning lines of your 10 most recent published fanfics, then attempt to tag 10 people

Old Chevy (farmers daughter reader x ranch hand Billy the Kid): “Busted ass, stupid ass, stinkin’ ass..” You sound like a fourteen year old while you kick rocks (literally) away from your worn leather boots.

Your car wasn’t starting. thank god it was at home and not on the road, but a fucked car didn’t suit your schedule all that great. It was another sweltering day, New Mexican sun beating down on your exposed shoulders while you made your way down the gravel lane that led from the farmhouse to the road.

Homecoming (victor reader x Finnick Odair): The victor of the 68th annual hunger games. Your face plastered on capitol billboards. Your name on every Capitolite’s unusually plastic-surgered lips. Your eyelids engraved with the faces of all the tributes— all the children— you killed to get your head above the water.

Moon on the rise (reader x finnick odair): When your daughter cries, Finnick presses a kiss between the plates of your back and shuffles out of bed.

Life in District 4 was a similar relief as cool water on sunburnt skin. Slow, but not dragging. Relaxed but never boring. Quiet, but comfortably so.

Bash around the house (reader x peeta mellark): Breakdowns were irregular, for you. The trauma rarely boiled to the point that you were perched on right now— your heart was racing to combust, your eyes wild and unfocused, chest heaving with lagged breaths that were needy gulps of crisp mountain air more than anything.

Baby steps (reader x boxer coriolanus snow): "Shouldn't be fighting with nails," Coryo rubs a thumb pad over your acrylics, clicking his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly.

"But don't they look nice?"

"Gorgeous, baby."

What they wanted to hear (reader x politician sejanus plinth): "Tonight is going to be torture," your husband made up his mind before you had even grasped his tie to tighten. "Pure, unadulterated, uni-"

"Unimaginable torture, I know." You finish with lifted brows, patting his suit lapel. A drama king to his bones, Sejanus was. He sighed through his nose, letting his hands curl around the fabric of your dress at your waist.

Ice cold lemonade (farmers daughter reader x Billy the kid): 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.

Warmin’ up (reader x Billy the kid): When the door is thrown open, a chill rushes into the living room before Billy can even step a foot over the threshold. The cold air sends a shiver through you, despite the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. The dead of winter wasn't exactly doing you any kindness.

A heavy sigh distracts you from the cold. "Baby." The way the pet name is breathed sounds like it's the only thing that's been on your man's mind all day, probably 'cause it is. Billy's quick to shut the door, he rolls his shoulders to try and jog some blood back into himself. His boots thump loudly on the hardwood as he hurries his way over with the distinct urgency of a lover.

Real piece a’ work (regulators reader x Billy the kid): The day was quiet, compared to moments ago. The crack of bullets really could make birdsong sound like an angel choir.

You're balancing on the balls of your feet, turning up your chin to let the blood dripping from your nostril smatter the grass instead of your shirt. The men were cleaning up after you, the irony wasn't lost on nobody. You were nervously palming the iron pressed into your hand, hanging at your side, chambers emptied.

It's like you hear the huff in the air and the stomp of his boots 'fore he calls your name. "What the hell was that?"

tagging @lucygxybaird, @lucysgraybird, @runningfrom2am, @a-romantics-guide-to-life and @bluesbonney!!

#phantom answers #mollie’s rambles

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 14 days ago

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MILLIEEEE

౨ৎ꣑ৎmasterlist౨ৎ꣑ৎ ~belong~ fem reader x billy the kid thank you my darling @phantomamour for proofing!! <3

Billy wiped the sweat from his brow and stood up, brushing his pants off when he heard footsteps behind him. He’d only been out here for an hour but already he felt the sweet stretch in his limbs that came after a day of hard work. He must be getting older. While it would form a raincloud over some it put a spring in his step. There were moments when Billy took a step back and looked at all he had now when he used to have nothing, and the realization of his age was one of them.

Annie had turned eighteen last week and everyone had celebrated from the moment she woke up. You’d been emotional all day but in a happy way, hiding away in the kitchen for hours cooking a spread for her special day. Billy had taken a lengthy break from supervising Annie and Thomas to come help you, bring you into his arms between stirs. You were happy for your daughter, you knew, but there was a bittersweetness to it. She was a woman of her own now, and a wonderful one at that.

It shocked him sometimes to remember her origins, that she wasn’t always with him. Billy couldn’t for one second imagine his life without Annie. She was the best part of him, a kindhearted, creative, talented person. There truly wasn’t any way he could have done any better. He knew you felt the same way. Billy measured his time in triumphs, and the passing of Annie’s birthday was one of them.

Turning around, he was expecting to see you bounding toward him ready to leap into his arms. Instead he saw his oldest daughter’s beau standing in front of him, fingers twitching. His blonde hair was a mess as usual, and he had a nervous sort of look in his eye. Billy cleared his throat, brow furrowing in confusion. “Ah…Thomas. Can I help you with somethin’?” He turned around, gathering his tools and shoving them into their box.

“Yes.” Thomas hurried to keep up with him as he started to walk back towards the house. Billy nodded at a few of the ranch hands as he passed them, squinting at the pen of sheep in the distance. They needed shaving soon. He’d have to let someone know. Thomas piped up again. “Sir, it’ll only take a minute, but I’ve gotta ask you somethin’.”

“Sure.” Billy set down the toolbox when they reached the shade of the tree closest to the house. His lips turned up just a bit when he saw the strategically placed large rocks spread out evenly. Names were carved crudely into the surfaces; the handiwork of his girls.

When Kat had heard about the fate of his parents and brother as well of your parents, she’d asked where you both got to visit them. Upon finding out that there was no such place, she and Annie decided to make one. “I’d wanna visit you ‘n Mama somewhere if you were gone,” Kat had said seriously. Her little words plucked at his heartstrings then and echoed in his head now.

Help me out here, Ma, he asked quietly as he looked at the boy his daughter loved. If he tells me she’s pregnant I’ll kill him and I gave all that up. If it comes to that…forgive me and help me find a place for the body.

“Mr. Bonney,” Thomas started, holding his head high. “I…well…I love Annie very much. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, sir. And we’ve been seeing each other for awhile. You see…I’d…” He swallowed, nodding once. “I’d like to marry her. With your permission of course.”

It felt like someone had hit him in the gut. Billy saw in his mind’s eye Annie as a little girl running up to him with a penciled drawing of flowers. He saw their evening walks, and the way she’d run to him when she had a nightmare. His little girl who was supposed to always stay little. She used to crawl onto his lap when he sat by the fireplace at night.

He saw the girl whose head barely reached up to his waist hugging him when he handed her her first set of paints. The tenderness in her eyes when she held Kat for the first time. Her endless joy and optimism and the way she’d lit up the house since the moment she’d first arrived. The last image that flashed before his eyes before he came down to earth was of her holding a stranger’s hand, standing in the frame of the door with wet hair and shiny eyes. A piece of his heart he’d unknowingly given away hurtling back to him.

“Marry?” he repeated, voice breaking ever so slightly. Breathing once through his nose, he tried to quiet the ringing in his ears. “Marry. I see.”

Thomas watched him for a moment before speaking. “I love her very much, Mr. Bonney. And I’ve got a job lined up with one of the lawyers in town, so I’ll be making enough to provide for us in no time.” He blinked, words growing softer. “She’s…she’s incredible, sir. I’ve never met anyone so good in my life. She makes me better just by being alive and I can only hope I make her feel that way too. I want to do everything with her. I want to make sure she has what she deserves. Well, she deserves everything, but I’ll start here.” There was a boldness in his expression that Billy hadn’t seen in him before.

His shoulders slumped. “Everything.”

“Look, Mr. Bonney, I know I must seem like just a kid to you.” Billy lifted his eyes at that. Thomas clasped his hands in front of him. “But sir, I love her more than I’ve ever loved anything. I honestly don’t know if I’m good enough for her, but she’s everything to me. You’ve been kind enough to let me see her for all these years but I want longer than that. Forever, if it’s alright.”

“Marry her. Forever,” he whispered, scrubbing a hand over his face. Time froze for a second, and Billy saw his daughter’s face in his mind again. This time she was all grown up, freshly eighteen with flowers in her hair, kissing Thomas on the porch as the sun set in front of them. He could see she loved him. He could see he loved her.

Billy remembered you whispering about how they reminded you of the two of you. Their love was quiet, without the tumultuous beginning he’d had with you. Maybe this was how it would have been if you’d met another way. He looked over at his ma’s stone. This was the life she’d wanted Thafor him. She’d been looking out for his family all along.

He reached a hand out, clamping a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Thomas. And my Annie…she loves you. You make her real happy.” With a steady nod, he reached down to pick up his toolbox again. “D’ya have a ring?”

Immediately, Thomas nodded. “I do. I didn’t get it long ago, sir. It ain’t a diamond but I hope she’ll like it.”

“She will,” Billy assured him, taking in a breath.

A smile threatened to split Thomas’ face open. “Thank you, Mr. Bonney. Thank you very, very much!” He turned away, looking happier than Billy had ever seen anybody.

Watching him run off in the other direction, Billy couldn’t help a smile of his own. You’d been right when you said this boy reminded you of him. If your father had said yes to him the way he just had he might have died of happiness.

Staggering up to the house, Billy left his toolbox on the porch and opened the door in search of you. He found you in the kitchen, sitting on the counter and leaning back against the cabinets, drinking a glass of water. You put the glass down as soon as you saw him, reaching your arms out. “You weren’t out too long, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.” Hurrying into your arms, he bent so his face was buried in your chest. Your fingers curled into his hair and he groaned into you.

“What’s the matter, my love?” you cooed, kissing the top of his head.

“Omas ak ee oo arry Annie,” he said muffled into you.

“Hmm?”

He lifted his face, looking at you wearily. “Thomas asked me to marry Annie.”

Your face didn’t change. The smile stayed on your face, and you thumbed his cheek. “He asked me too. Yesterday.”

“Huh?” Billy stood up straight. “He asked you first?”

“Of course he did,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “He told me he’d take good care of our girl and he has a new-”

“Job with a lawyer. Yeah, I know,” he finished for you, the tiniest of frowns on his face. “Baby you didn’t warn me.”

“Because I knew you’d overthink it,” you said, kissing his nose. “And I was sure you’d come up with a lovely, responsible, mature response all on your own.”

Trying not to pout, he steadied his hands on your sides, standing fully between your legs now. “I did.”

“Of course you did.” Leaning in, you laid your head on his chest, planting a kiss on his chest. “Oh, Billy she’s gonna be so happy. Our sweet Annie a bride.”

He hugged you tight, hiding a smile in your hair. You were right as always, and you knew that he knew it. You wrapped your legs around his waist, rubbing his back. “Oh, my darling. You’ve come so far from the first time you threatened Thomas’ life.”

It was obvious Annie had no idea. Billy was trying hard to keep it inside, but he felt emotional even looking at her most days. She was happy as could be though, keeping to her paintings and spending lots of time with both Kat and Thomas.

When you came home announcing that Kat had a crush Billy nearly fainted. “Already?” he muttered into your neck. “She’s five.”

“Well, I think she’s a little more in tune about these things than Annie was,” you murmured, kissing his cheek. “It’s okay. We’ve got awhile before she starts having boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends? More than one?” he groaned, arms winding around your waist. “Baby don’t say it like that. You’re gonna make it come true.”

“If it comes true it would have no matter what,” you insisted, reaching up to pet his hair gently. “You did a good job getting through it with Annie. You’ll do just fine with Kat.”

He only grunted in return, but you hummed happily, patting his head. “It’s okay, Daddy. All this means is that you love your girls very much.”

Billy didn’t know what to do when Kat started talking about a cute boy in town at dinner and he definitely didn’t know what to do when Annie informed him later that the boy was nearing seventeen and he’d been one of her classmates. You assured him it was something that happened to all girls, and he tried to believe you.

Thomas’ visits started to become less frequent. This confused Billy, but didn’t seem to worry Annie in some way. Maybe a few years ago he’d have enjoyed the break but after the conversation under the tree a week ago he was confused.

“Oh, he’s just got a lot going on with work,” Annie dismissed it. “He’s been very busy but I think he likes it.” She smiled at Billy. “I’ll tell him you asked. It’s very nice of you.”

Inside he knew that nobody would know better than Annie, but it was still a point of concern. Something nagged at him- a feeling he’d only really gotten with his children. He was starting to worry about Thomas like he was one of his own, and it surprisingly didn’t bother him to think of him that way. He was marrying his daughter- now was as good a time to take him under his wing as any.

There was plenty to keep Billy busy around the ranch without worrying about Thomas, but he did anyways. He thought of him when he was ordering field hands and when he watched some of the older men coach the younger ones. Most of all he thought of Thomas when he saw Annie waiting by the window, smiling, but tensely. That was when he started to feel worse about it.

“I don’t know,” you said as you knelt in the garden, lips bunched to the side. “Annie hasn’t said anything to me, but that’s a good sign, right?”

“Yeah,” he said absently, nodding when you stood up and took his hands. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

You squinted at something over his shoulder before reaching up and kissing his cheek, squeezing his hands. “You can ask him now.” Motioning with your eyes, you let go of him as he turned around to see exactly the person he’d been looking for walking up towards the two of you, an anxious look on his face.

Thomas was dressed in nice clothes, riding boots shoved over his trousers. He looked more nervous than when he’d asked for Annie’s hand, if that was possible. As was his habit, he ran a hand over his already messy hair. “Mr. Bonney…can I talk to you? Please?”

“‘F course,” Billy said right away, turning back to you. He lifted one of the hands he was holding, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll be in soon, m’kay?” You nodded quietly, letting go of his hands and returning to your flowers.

“Come over here.” Billy ushered him to the nearby shed, hand on his shoulder. Once the door was shut, he shifted to look him in the eye. “Talk to me. What’s goin’ on?”

Thomas took in a hitched breath. “I’m…I’m in trouble, sir. I’ve got…I did something stupid.”

“Hey,” Billy guided him to sit down on the bench next to him, searching his face. “You can tell me.” When Thomas hesitated, he patted his shoulder. “I’m not one to judge. There’s a lot of things I’ve done in my life that I regret, worse things than I’m sure a good kid like you’s done.”

“I…” Thomas breathed in again. “I got in trouble with one of the gangs in town. I was trying to earn some extra money but it all went wrong and then somehow I owed them and now I’ve got nothing left. They robbed me.”

Billy was silent. He watched his daughter’s beloved squirm in place for a moment, sorting through it all in his head. Finally, he found what he wanted to say. “Why were you doin’ business with gangs?” His tone was careful, and he kept his eyes soft.

“I need the money. For me ‘n Annie,” he explained, gaze dropping to his boots as he fidgeted with his hands. “My folks kicked me out. I’ve been living at a boarding house in town and my job pays alright but I didn’t think it was enough with the rent. Not to get a decent place for her. I thought I could trust this gang so I cut a few corners for them, pulled some favors cause they said they’d pay me. But now I’ve got nothing left.” He looked so emotional that Billy had the urge to call for you. You’d be better at dealing with this than him.

Still, Thomas had come to him, not you. Billy waited for him to meet his eyes before asking quietly, “Your folks turned you out? Why?”

“They…” Thomas winced. “They didn’t like the idea of me getting married.”

“They don’t like Annie?” He kept his tone even.

He looked away again. “They don’t like her kin.”

A silence fell over the shed. Billy clenched his jaw, the ghosts of the past coming back again. Every time he’d thought he made peace with it things hurtled back at him. He’d take every punch so his girls didn’t have to, but lately most were thrown behind his back.

Thomas looked upset, so he didn’t press it. Instead, Billy nodded. “I see.”

“Sir, I promise it’s had no effect on me,” Thomas said earnestly, meeting Billy’s eyes desperately. “You and Mrs. Bonney are two of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and I know how much you care about your girls. Whatever happened in the past is past. That was a long time ago.”

“I appreciate that, Thomas.” Billy stood up, fingers finding his chin. He scratched at his jaw and fixed his stare on a board of the wall straight ahead.

“I know this is a lot to hear, sir.” Thomas sounded defeated. “About the money and my folks. I’d understand if you’d want to rescind your blessing. I came here today cause I didn’t want to be dishonest. I love Annie, but she deserves better than this.”

Billy turned around, looking him in the eye. “I’m gonna give you some money.”

“What?” The shock in the boy’s face was prevalent. “I…sir, that’s not-”

“As long as you promise not to get involved with the gangs again,” he continued, still thinking it over. “No son-in-law of mine is gonna be workin’ himself to death when he should be spending time with my daughter, who he makes very happy.” Billy gave him a pointed look.

“Sir, I can’t take the money from the ranch,” he tried.

“You can pay me back over time if that’s what you’re worried about,” Billy folded his arms, expression even as he looked down at him. “But I want you and Annie to have a nice place. You’re a good kid. You don’t need to be takin’ back roads when you’ve been makin’ an honest living up ‘till now.”

“I…” Thomas’ face was shifting into disbelief. “Mr. Bonney-”

“Billy,” he corrected, corner of his mouth turning up.

Thomas looked at him for a moment, something blooming in his eyes. He stood up, reaching out to shake his hand. “Thank you Mr. Bo- Billy. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, letting go and patting him on the back. “I think you should go in and see her. She’s been worried about you. We all have.”

Smiling, Thomas nodded at him before leaving the shed. After he was gone, Billy let himself smile all the way. Scratching the back of his neck. He couldn’t put into words how glad he was, the gratitude he felt. Settling a hand over his heart, he whispered, “Thanks, Ma.”

He found you inside, reading something on the couch, Fish and Willow lazing about on the floor. Billy went straight for you, taking the book out of your hands and pulling you up to kiss him. Fish meowed but he ignored him.

You smiled when he pulled back, removing his hat and smoothing a hand over his curls. “Talk went well?”

“Mhm.” He rested his chin on your head and you tucked yourself so your nose was pressed into his neck. Even though he was all sweaty from work outside you’d said many times before that you loved how he smelled no matter what.

Patting his chest, you whispered, “You know Thomas and Annie are upstairs…?”

“Let ‘em be,” he murmured, sitting down with you still clasped in his arms. “They’re young ‘n in love.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my Billy?”

“Baby.” He kissed the top of your head. “You were right.”

He could practically hear your smile. “Was I?”

Billy smiled too as you snuggled into his chest, and he began to stroke a hand up and down your side. “You always are.”

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 16 days ago

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questions I think would be fun to be asked

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

show us a picture of your handwriting?

3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

what made you start your blog?

what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

what scares you the most and why?

any reacquiring dreams?

tell a story about your childhood

would you say you’re an emotional person?

what do you consider to be romance?

what’s some good advice you want to share?

what are you doing right now?

what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

name 3 things that make you happy

do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

favourite thing about the day?

favourite things about the night?

are you a spiritual person?

say 3 things about someone you love

say 3 things about someone you hate

what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

fave season and why?

fave colour and why?

any nicknames?

do you collect anything?

what do you do when you’re sad?

what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

are you messy or organised?

how many tabs do you have open right now?

any hobbies?

any pet peeves?

do you trust easily?

are you an open book or do you have walls up?

share a secret

fave song at the moment?

youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

any bad habits?

(this post was stolen from @teenage-mutant-ninja-freak, since it couldn't be reblogged anymore)

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 19 days ago

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i want time travel billy to experience mcdonald’s sprite

MOLLIE IT WOULD EXPLODE HIM

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 22 days ago

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Ugh guys im torn

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 23 days ago

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YAY MILLIE

Me logging onto tumblr today to find that I have 900 followers

YOU GUYS!? Not even a real number OH I LOVE YOU ALL thank you for following along and reading my fics!!!! I’m so thrilled to have you here and I can’t believe this many people want to consume my content 🩷🩷 you all give me so much support and love and encouragement and I couldn’t be more grateful 🩷🩷🩷 thank you so much my darlings I’m so thrilled to be here!!!

Some of you have been here since my very first fic on this site and that means the world 🩷 some of you are newer and I’m so happy you’ve found your way here!! I love you guys, thank you so much 🥰🥰🩷🩷

I’m looking forward to writing more for all the boys, especially as some of their movies quickly approach!! I’ve been on a Billy and Clark kick lately but I hope to do more Finnick (summertime rahhh) Coryo (our fav psychopath) and Alex (baby) very soon!! All of your asks and requests are very much welcomed and I know I take forever with them but I wish to do them justice and I hope I do 🩷🩷🩷

Love you all a million 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 1 month ago

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me when millie writes something

౨ৎ꣑ৎDoubles౨ৎ꣑ৎ

fem reader x clark kent thank you my sweet @phantomamour for proofing <3

Lifting your head, you watched with sleepy eyes as the blurry shadow of your sweet, tired Clark made its way across the room. You mumbled, sitting up, and he turned around, taking off his glasses. The only light in the room was glowing from a nearby lamp, and it gave him a soft glow like he was an angel.

“Sorry, baby,” he said quietly, reaching back and opening a drawer. Clark kept his eyes on you as he rifled around inside, fishing out a pair of striped sleep pants, the blue ones you so often stole and wore around the house. “Thought you were asleep. Did I wake you up?”

“No.” Sitting back on your hands, you watched him roll up his tie and unbutton his shirt, taking care to put it on a hanger in your closet. It always made you smile whenever you opened the doors and saw your dresses crammed beside his crisp pants, heels stacked on his shiny dress shoes. “Was a little worried about you,” you confessed. Pulling back the covers on his side, you smoothed the sheets, getting it ready for him.

“I’m sorry,” he soothed, moving closer after he put his pants away. “I didn’t realize how late it was until I looked up. I finished my assignment though so I won’t have to go in tomorrow.”

“You’re staying home?” You watched him turn the lamp off and sit, swinging his long legs over to rest on the mattress.

Clark slowly leaned backwards, resting his head on the pillow. Reaching over, you tangled your hand in his curls and scratched his scalp lightly. He smiled, settling one big hand over your waist. Tonight your pajamas consisted of a cute bralette with little red S’s and blue C’s printed all over it, and a tiny pair of striped sleep shorts that almost matched his. The bralette was from a brand called SC that you hadn’t heard of before seeing it on an Instagram ad. It had taken all of ten seconds for you to buy it. To you, the letters stood for both Superman and Clark. He’d smiled so wide when you’d explained it, and you hardly wanted to take it off after that.

“C’mere,” he coaxed, both hands on your waist now. “Come lay on me.”

“Honey aren’t you too tired for that?” you asked softly, rubbing his chest. “You’ve been at your desk all day. Aren’t you sore?”

“Not too sore to hold my pretty girl.” Clark dragged you by your waist to rest on top of him. He kissed your nose, parting his legs so you could rest comfortably between them. “Need this. Been missing you all day.”

You nuzzled into him, trying to help him relax. “How was work?”

He huffed, pulling the blanket over the two of you. “Long. People were saying things.” Clark exhaled and smoothed your hair. “About Superman,” he muttered.

Sitting up, you folded your arms on his chest, resting your chin on them. “You know it’s not true?”

With a slow nod, he ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes. “I’m trying to help people and all they want to talk about is the destruction and the caution tape and-” Clark cut himself off. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“‘S okay,” you mumbled, and he pulled the blanket over the two of you. “I’m sorry. I know it must be so hard to stay silent when they don’t understand.”

He dug his nose into your hair. “Comin’ home to you makes it all worth it.” You settled a hand over his heart, smiling as it beat under your hand. Clark held you like a teddy bear, grunting as he nuzzled his cheek into your hair. “‘M glad we can just stay here tomorrow.”

“Actually I have to go grocery shopping and-”

Clark whined, shaking his head. You could almost hear his pout. “We can go together.”

“Just wait until I tell everyone Superman’s a baby when he doesn’t get to snuggle all day,” you teased, and he kissed your forehead with a little smack.

“Think everyone would understand if they knew about you,” he concluded. Fingering the strap of your bralette, he rested his chin on your head. “Cute.”

Shifting on top of him, you moved to rest on your side, one leg hooked over his thigh, foot resting between his knees. He adjusted his arm accordingly. “You’re just gonna use me as a pillow?”

“You wanted me to lay on you,” you mumbled, and he chuckled lightly, reaching down to the back of your knee to stroke his fingers up and down. You sighed, kissing his chest. “Don’t wanna go to sleep. Wanna stay with you.”

“You are with me.” Clark sounded amused, and you reached up, pulling on one of his curls.

“We could take a shower,” you suggested and his hold on you tightened.

“Uh uh. Not leaving this bed right now.” He yawned, tucking the blanket around you. “We’ll shower tomorrow.”

“Mkay,” you mumbled, eyes growing heavy.

It was bliss for a little while, just laying with him, breathing softly as you tried to let sleep take you. The feeling of his fingers on your skin was more soothing than anything you could ever dream up. Whenever you needed a happy place to think of, it was this.

Clark sat up suddenly, squinting into the dark. You made a surprised little noise, reaching for his hand. “Honey-”

“I need to go,” he whispered, throwing back the blankets and standing up. Sniffing, you reached over and turned on the lamp. He ran a hand over his hair, already looking frenzied. Looking back at you, Clark bent over, a light hand on your chest pushing you to lay back down. He folded the blanket around you so you felt like a burrito and kissed your forehead. “Go to sleep. I’ll be back before morning.”

Before you could protest he was gone in the blink of an eye, and your eyes widened as you sat up. Any notion of a cozy day in was gone. You knew he’d only told you he’d be back so soon so you’d go to sleep. It was his way- not wanting to worry you.

You got up and wandered into the living room, dragging the blanket behind you and settling on the couch. On the coffee table sat your book and you opened it after switching on a nearby light. Over and over you tried to read the same sentence, your mind racing so quickly you couldn’t keep track of the thoughts.

It was like this no matter how much he left like this. You didn’t care how bulletproof he was, how much power he possessed- you worried like he was frail and sickly. He was yours and you hated not being able to protect him.

Even though he was a hero of mass proportion you knew him on the inside. You knew how much he cared and how sensitive he was underneath. His heart was safe in your hands and you wished more than anything that you could have the rest of him. You wished you could grow three feet and hold him in you and keep him safe from the rest of the world. He didn’t ask for this! you wanted to scream every time you saw an article or a reporter or a talk show dissecting his actions, actions that saved lives. He never returned to you bloody on the outside; the only scars he retained were the ones he often didn’t let you see. You tried to fix them anyways.

Setting the book aside, you pulled the blanket up to your chest. Clark might find you asleep on the couch waiting for him if he did indeed return before morning, but you doubted it would happen. It was rare he detailed what exactly he was needed for, and you weren’t entirely sure if he always knew. If that was it, it made sense. Clark wouldn’t think it was up to him to decide whether someone was ‘worthy’ of being saved.

You lost track of time staring at the wall, tempted to turn on the television in case someone was reporting on what he was up to. In the end you decided not to though, as it would likely only make your anxiety worse if there wasn’t anything about him.

Sometimes you wondered how many of these sorts of calls he received and didn’t tell you about. Did he make excuses during work and pretend he’d only been to the office and back when he returned home? In the middle of the night with you burrowed against him did he gently move you off him and go to save a life and return home to you none the wiser? Sometimes you woke up and he was in bed with you and sometimes he wasn’t. Now you wondered if he went straight from hero work to The Daily Planet sometimes, the thought breaking your heart. How tired was he really? His strength afforded him more stamina than most but you knew his heart was weary.

It wasn’t until the light cast shadows on the walls through cracks in the curtained windows that you realized it was already morning. You were tired but you knew you wouldn’t sleep if you closed your eyes. Bringing your legs to rest on the couch, you let yourself slouch against the arm, head resting on your stacked elbows. Eyelashes fluttering shut, you decided you may as well rest even if you weren’t sleeping.

You thought you were dreaming when the soft hand started stroking your hair, a finger brushing your cheek. Opening your eyes, you were prepared for disappointment, instead finding your love looking right back at you, blue eyes soft. “Hi,” Clark whispered, the backs of his fingers resting on your temple.

Bolting up, you wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing him in. He was here. He was real. “You’re home.” The words were muffled into his shoulder. His arms twined around your waist and you sniffled, lower lip wobbling. “I didn’t know if you were safe.”

“I’m sorry.” You wanted to hit him for apologizing. It wasn’t him you were upset with, it was the world. Clark kissed the top of your head. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”

“No.” He was wearing a t-shirt now and you gripped the back of it. “No I don’t want to.” The last thing you wanted to do was something he was able to slip away from without you knowing.

“Okay, okay,” he muttered, rubbing your back. “Okay. We…” Clark leaned back and forth as he thought. “We could…shower?”

You pulled back, tilting your head at him. “I thought…?”

“Well I left the bed, huh?” Clark pushed some of your hair behind your ear. “How about we take a shower and you pick a movie and we make something good to eat? Yeah?”

You nodded, pushing your blanket away and wrapping your legs around his waist. He chuckled, automatically tightening his hold around you and lifting you up into him. “Still needa go shopping,” you mumbled.

“I can run out really quick.” The second he said it you shook your head, clinging tighter to him.

“Don’t leave,” you mumbled into his neck. “Don’t want you to leave again.”

“Why don’t you get in the shower,” he suggested, setting you on the bathroom counter. “I’ll be back in five minutes. I promise.”

The surety in his voice made you breathe easier, and your grip on his shirt loosened. “Five minutes?”

“Five minutes,” Clark said, steady and sweet. He lifted your hand and kissed the back of it. “I promise.” You nodded slowly, breathing in and out as you looked up at him. He stroked the side of your face. “There you go. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Clark moved to the shower, turning it on and letting the hiss of the water spray down into the tub. “Just get in the shower and relax and I’ll be right back.”

You watched him for a second, blinking like a baby deer. When you reached for the hem of your shorts he kissed your forehead, giving you one last thumb to the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, watching him until he disappeared, closing the bathroom door behind him.

You were trying not to think about the time as you stepped under the hot water, tilting your head back and letting it soak your hair. Breathing evenly, you hummed something soft and calming. Maybe now was a good time to use the sweet-scented products you’d splurged on as a means of self encouragement to take care of your body.

When you heard the telltale sign of the bathroom door opening and shutting you finally relaxed, listening to his heavy footsteps. Clark pushed back the shower curtain and you all but jumped into his arms, drawing a startled laugh out of him. He held you close, finding his way under the water with you. “You came back,” you muttered, pressing your cheek to his chest.

“I’ll always come back for you,” he murmured, and you reached for his hand. He knew what this was about and you smiled softly realizing it.

“And I’ll always be here for you to come back to.” If you couldn’t protect him, you’d be his safe space. You’d be the place he could go to be whatever he needed to. Clark laid out the map of himself for you to trace and you loved every inch.

You squeezed his hand and he kissed your temple. He was yours. At the end of the day he was always yours.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 1 month ago

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hey babe!! it's not uncommon to get cysts in your breasts, especially if you have denser/more fibrous breasts, and at your age they're more than likely completely benign & will go away on their own :) i hope everything goes okay at the doctor

i had an ultrasound yesterday and my doctors gonna get the results in 3 days, i have NF1 so it’s likely just a neurofibroma but it’s better to get it checked than be sorry

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 2 months ago

Text

health anxiety telling me the lumps i found in my breasts are cancerous and that i’m going to die 🫠

i’m getting them checked by my family doctor tomorrow and see if she wants to get them screened

#health anxiety #mollie’s rambles #phantom’s ramblings #im going insane #im scared #kill me this is so scary

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 2 months ago

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I LOVE DAFFODIL

i’ve been thinking about hirl dad billy a lot and i was thinking abt him buying his daughter her first pony, but the pony happens to be a little shit who hates everyone except for his little girl

lmfao he'd just be like "yeah i get it-- 🤷🏻‍♂️"

"ow -- motherfu -- "

billy stops mid-sentence as his eyes falls on a flick of forget-me-not blue -- the same color as the bolt of cloth you bought at the general store last week, from which you made matching dresses for you and your daughter.

" -- fu-fuzzy," he grits out, and he hears a muffled giggle from the other side of the stall wall.

putting his hands on top of the stall, billy levers himself up, leaning over far enough to lay eyes on an unruly mop of curls, framing a cherubic face set with his own blue eyes. "you might as well come over here," he says, and his daughter peeps up at him, still giggling into her cupped hands. "you're the only one who can get close enough to beezlebub to feed him."

his daughter scrambles to her feet and is pushing the stall door open seconds later, taking the carrot out of billy's hand. "his name is daffodil, papa," she says, while the pony chomps contentedly until his velvety lips -- couching the same teeth which drew blood from billy's own palm moments ago -- brush her little fingertips.

"i told you that," she adds, wiping her hand on her skirt. "i named him daffodil cause this mark right here--" she patted daffodil's muzzle gently. "--is shaped just like one." she slides a gaze up to him from the corner of her eye. "right, papa?"

she does that, sometimes -- less now that she's getting a little older, but still -- where she'll peek up at him and ask him questions like that. when she was younger, nearly everything she thought or felt or saw was followed by, "right, papa?"

she would say: "that's a big ladybug! right, papa?"

or: "mr. mcsween is the smartest man ever! right, papa?"

and he would say, as he does now: "that's right, darlin'."

daffodil. truth be told, although the mark really does look like a daffodil, he thinks something like beelzebub would be closer to the mark.

he'd bought this pony as a gift for his daughter, with an idea to teach her to ride. the hostler who sold daffodil to him said that the pony was sturdy, healthy, and good with children -- the latter of which may explain why daffodil seems to hate everyone except billy's little girl.

he's bitten billy, he's bitten you, he's kicked, he's head-butted, and once -- billy knows this sounds crazy, but it's true -- the infernal creature hissed at him.

with your daughter, though, daffodil is as docile as a lamb. he will eat right out of her hand, without so much as a nip. he will amble up to her and gently bump her shoulder with his head, inviting pets and pats. billy has had to instruct her on how to saddle daffodil from a couple of feet away, because she is the only one who can not only get close enough to him, but lay down the blanket and cinch the buckles and get the bit into his mouth for the halter.

frankly, even as he nurses this newest bite, billy can't really blame the pony. in his opinion, there's no one on earth as sweet, as angelic, as precious as his little girl.

if daffodil could speak, he would probably say just about the same thing.

well, after telling billy to go to hell, that is.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 2 months ago

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ME WHEN MILLIE WRITES ANOTHER AMAZING THING

I SAW YOU WERE THINKING ANT CLARK KENT AND I HAD A THOUGHT ABOUT HIM:

him watching his girl fall through thin ice when she walks out onto the frozen lake when she sees that a baby deer is stuck in the middle.

(also sorry if i sent you something like that already I tend to forget)

I've been sitting on this ask for a LONG time I was so excited to write it lovey<3

౨ৎ꣑ৎyou fall through a frozen lake and clark saves you౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x clark kent

The winter was deathly in these parts, but the toasty hand of your boy was enough to keep you warm. Clark was bundled in his coat and gloves and scarf the same as you, and he’d pulled his hat over your head upon noticing you forgot yours. This trip to the cabin practically in the middle of nowhere had been spontaneous, an effort on his part to relieve the stress you’d been facing at work. The deadline for your latest writing had passed recently, your work now in the hands of your superiors, and he’d deemed it worthy of celebration.

Now you were trekking through the knee-high snow hand in hand, smiling when he lifted your mittened fingers for a kiss, breath clouding in the cold. “You okay?” Clark’s need to check in always made you smile, his upbringing making him nothing less than a gentleman. Every door you found opened by him, and the crook of his arm lonely without your hand.

“Mhm,” you hummed delightedly, squinting into the brightness of the snow. Last night there had been a storm, the results of which were flurrying down from trees and being kicked up again by your boots. “It’s so beautiful.”

“It is.” The deep timbre of his voice made you shiver in a way unrelated to the cold. His cheeks were pink, his curls dotted with stray snowflakes that had fluttered from bare tree branches. Clark stepped over a fallen log with ease, reaching over to lift you the same way. You giggled, bracing your hands on his shoulders. Even though you could have climbed over yourself, a little part of you liked it when he used his inhuman strength for you. Having any of his awesome powers directed at you was a thrill you were sure you’d never get over.

Clark kissed your nose as he set you back on your feet, his little smile hatching butterflies in your chest. “You’re cold, sweetheart.” He pulled his hat over your ears, cupping your face and rubbing your cheeks with each thumb. “You wanna go back?”

Your bottom lip jutted out a little bit. “We just got out here.”

“We’ve been out here for a few hours, honey,” he gently reminded you, still rubbing your face. “I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“Just a little further,” you pouted, trying your best hand at puppy eyes. Clark breathed out, giving you a fond look.

He adjusted your hat again, letting his hand drop to reach for yours again. “A little And then we’re gonna go warm up.”

“It’s not like you can’t fly us there in seconds, Superman,” you teased, and he chuckled, squeezing your hand. One of many perks of being here in this secluded paradise was the ability to keep his secret safe, to discuss with no fear. He paused to kiss the top of your head before guiding you further down the path. You happily let him lead you along, following in his big footprints.

“Look at that.” Clark ducked under a branch dripping with snow, waiting for you to do the same before he pointed outwards. Your eyes went round as you took in the magnificent expanse of the lake in front of you, smoothed over with ice like a sheet of glass. You slouched into Clark’s warm body and he wound his arm around your shoulders, chin resting on top of your head. “I’m glad we kept going.”

“See?” You kissed his shoulder over his coat. “And besides, the longer we stay out here, the nicer it’ll be to sit by the fire.”

“Mhm.” He was quiet for a moment, tilting his head to the side. “How much of your book do you have left?”

“A few chapters,” you said, rubbing his arm when he looked up, squinting at the lake suddenly. “What is it?”

“Look.” Clark pointed out into the distance, and you gasped. A baby deer with speckled fur, skinny legs bending like willows in the wind as it tried to move across the ice.

“We have to help her,” you said, stepping forward. Clark shoved his arm in front of you before you could set foot on the ice.

“Honey,” he warned, gaze firm on the ice. “It might be too thin. I can-”

You were already moving forward, running as fast as you could and maneuvering your way across the slippery surface. Clark called your name once, but your eyes were straight ahead on the deer, her large eyes pulling at your heart. You slowed down as you came closer, holding out a tentative hand. The fawn’s ears twitched, and your heart melted. Animals had long been your soft spot- you were drawn to them as if you were one of their own. They seemed to know this, granting you a certain reverence and affording you their presence.

“Hi there,” you whispered, smiling when the fawn leaned in. “I’ve got y-” There was a sickeningly sharp sound, and you froze, gaze whipping down to your feet. Beneath your boots were spiderwebs of cracks, and your heart jumped. Clark shouted something and you turned back, eyes round as saucers. Moving to take a step further, your lips parted, forming the beginnings of his name. Then there was a rush under your feet, and you were plunged into icy darkness.

Every one of your senses were dulled. The only thing you could see were memories, drawn as delicately as snowflakes, melting on your tongue. Your body was numb, and you were unsure for a moment whether you were real. Maybe all that was left of you was the love you possessed, your essence drifting through the universe to dwell on all you had absorbed forever.

“Sweetheart?”

The voice was familiar. Now you felt so cozy, snuggled into something soft. Someone was stroking your hair and it felt so nice. You hummed contentedly, nuzzling into whatever you were laying on. “Mmm.”

“Shhh, you’re okay.” You began to open your eyes, the world blurry before you. “Sweetheart…I’ve got you.”

“Clark?” A surge of memories came rushing back, different ones than before. Slowly, your vision centered, and you blinked up at the familiar face before you. “W-what?”

“Honey, you fell through the ice.” His warm hand caressed your cheek. “You were shivering so bad…I was so worried.” Now you were being lifted, leaning into his firm chest, fuzzy blanket still over your back. Your hair was wet, clinging to your cheeks, and you shivered involuntarily, teeth chattering lightly. Clark’s arm squeezed you tight, and you sighed, relaxing into him.

“The deer,” you mumbled, and he smoothed your hair comfortingly.

“Safe with her mother,” he assured you. “She’s okay.”

You smiled, then noticed your current state of undress. Pulling the blanket over yourself, you looked to Clark, who flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry…I didn’t want to put you in the bath when you were unconscious but I didn’t want you to stay in your wet clothes-”

“It’s okay,” you promised, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Honey, you’ve seen me like this plenty. It’s just fine.”

He smiled a little, breathing in and then pulling you close again. “Please never do anything like that again.” You shut your eyes, nodding as he kissed your hair. “Let me help you next time you want to rescue something.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” you whispered, and he rubbed a warm hand up your back. “I just wanted to help.”

“I know.” Clark thumbed your cheek, bending his head to look into your eyes. “Let’s get you a warm bath, okay? Then I’ve got the fireplace all ready for us, and lots of blankets.”

“Hot chocolate?” you questioned as he wrapped the blanket around your body like you were a taco, lifting you into his arms. He held you closer when you shivered, still not over your dip in the icy waters.

“Of course.” As he carried you to the bathroom, even though your skin must have had frost crackling across the surface, your heart was warm, no part of you fearing what would happen if he was here. Not just Metropolis’ hero, but yours, sometimes yours alone.

In the cocoon of his arms, his love was enough to melt you, and all that was left of your ordeal was a gaping hole in a frozen lake. The oncoming storm would smooth it over soon enough, proving that Clark’s greatest rescues remained between the lines, or in this case, between your hearts.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 2 months ago

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BILLY MY SHAYLA

billy when him and the reader are having a fight abkut something and the reader flinches away from him at some point :(

tw: domestic violence mention

billy freezes, one hand still raised. he looks between his splayed fingers and your wan face as if he can't fathom how they could possibly relate to each other, his arm slowly drifting to rest at his side. he feels, for a moment, divorced from his body, as if the horror dawning on him has taken up too much room and forced the rest of him out.

you're standing there with this expression that's a mixture of remorse and fear, like you're sorry, like you're worried about what he's going to say. what he's going to do. he wants to tell you that you don't have any reason to be sorry, that you didn't do anything wrong, that if anyone is to blame here it's him for making you feel this way.

i am not a weapon, he wants to say. my hands don't hurt anyone, not anymore. and i would gnaw them off with my own teeth rather than use them against you, ever, ever, ever.

you open your mouth and he opens his at the same time, words tangling in the air between you.

billy says, "i would never--"

and you say, "i didn't mean--"

the ground under his feet feels fragile, the air between you fraught with traps held together by hairpin triggers, but he takes a tentative step forward anyway. you stay still until he's close enough to touch, and then, to his relief, you reach for him.

he catches your hands between his. "i am so sorry," he says earnestly, blue eyes gleaming with unshed guilt. "i wasn't thinkin' -- i was upset and just...makin' a gesture to make a point..."

it sounds so feeble -- i was only talking with my hands -- except he hadn't been talking, he'd been yelling. with his voice, with his hands, both of which are so much bigger than yours. he's seen how easy it is for a man, whose hands are stronger, whose voice is louder, whose every action is reinforced by rights both official and unspoken, to overpower a woman. to break her down and hurt her.

but he would never.

"i know," you're saying. "i know, i know. i just -- everything felt like it was crashing down on top of me, and i..."

"i'm sorry," he says again. "nothin' is gonna crash down on top of you, i promise. it's okay. everything is alright."

you fiddle nervously with the buttons of his shirt, focusing on this task rather than his eyes. "we're alright?" you press softly.

he puts his hands on your waist, and when you start to bend like the branches of a willow, he draws you agains this chest. billy wraps his arms around you. "we're alright," he murmurs, leaning his cheek against your hair. "are you?"

you bury your face against his chest, burrowing so deep into him that you must feel his the drumbeat of his heart against your forehead. "i'm alright," you say.

he holds you until you both believe it, until the phantom bruises delivered by hands other than his fade from the air, until he stops blaming himself the fear that had caught so briefly in your eyes like twin candle flames.

after a long while, you look up at him and you smile. he finds a smile for you, and you take one of his hands from your waist. you kiss his knuckles, his fingertips, his palm.

"i know," you say again, "that i am safe with you. i know that, billy. i promise."

it's all he needs to hear.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 3 months ago

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THIS IS SO GOOD *sobs uncontrollably*

GIRL DAD WALKING HIS DAUGHTER DOWN THE ISLE ON HER WEDDING DAY

billy would be a wreck in the best possible way

he would be so, so glad that she'd found someone to make her happy, to take care of her in the way we all need to be taken care of sometimes -- not because she's weak, or fragile, but because every now and then we can't help but bow under pressure of forces greater than us, whether it's a bad day we can't shake off or something bigger than that. he would be so glad that she'd found someone who could make her laugh, someone she could talk to about anything, someone who made her feel safe. he would be so glad that she'd found someone who appreciates her and loves her for exactly who she is.

and he's glad, more than glad, that he's around to witness it. after what he's been through, the fires of hell themselves searing every bullet that came his way, he didn't really think (as maudlin as it sounds) that he would live to see this day. he didn't expect to live so long as to have a little girl at all, to have a life with the woman he loves, a family of his own. now he's walking that little girl down the aisle, except she's all grown up, and she's beautiful, and she's happy. she's happy to have her man, and she's happy to have her father here, his arm looped through hers.

but at the same time, a part of his heart would be breaking, because a little sliver of this hurts. because so many people he loves aren't here to see this day, people who should be here.

his father.

his mother, who would have helped his daughter -- her granddaughter -- do up here hair, who would have been weeping without shame. with joy, in fact.

his brother, who might have had children around the same age, maybe just a little younger.

mr. tunstall, who undoubtedly would have paid (or at least offered) for the ceremony. billy would have talked him out of paying for the whole thing, but he would have caved on something, just to make him happy. to make him feel like part of the family, because he would have been.

more than anything, though, there's joy.

a joy on the surface of him, living in his smile, reflecting hers, bright and dancing like sunshine on the surface of a lake. beautiful and true, without a doubt, but there's something else, too.

a joy that comes from the very depth of him, rooted in memory, in a lifetime of firsts -- her first breath, her first steps, her first word. the first time she ran to him for comfort, because she was so sure he could fix it. the first time she brought a boy home. the first time her heart was broken, and he had to see her cry over something worse than a skinned knee or a bad dream.

and this, of course, this first. the first time he watches her turn a shining face toward her new husband, his kiss landing like a butterfly on her mouth, as the minister pronounces them husband and wife.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 3 months ago

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THIS IS SO YUMMY

billy x reader - finding a stray dog

At first, all Billy can see of the creature curled under the front porch of Murphy’s store is a twitch of fur stretched too tightly over a pile of bones; he thinks the thing might already be dead, stirring only from the breeze slipping between the cracks in the floorboards. Then he spies a slow roll of dark eyes, a gummy dark lip like a licorice whip skimming back over dull white teeth. He suspects the dog — a loose interpretation of the word, if there ever was one — is living on tenacity at this point, if not out of pure spite.

He can understand that, to a certain degree.

Precisely because he relates to having a bellyful of nothing but obduracy, he goes into the hotel up the street, coming back with some stew. He fishes out a chunk of beef with his fingertips and holds it out, watching its nose twitch in recognition before Billy puts the piece of meat on the ground.

“Go on,” he says softly, with the same soothing, gentle tone he uses when trying to calm a skittish horse. “That’s for you.”

He nudges it forward a little more, his head partway under the porch now. The space is just big enough for him to crane his neck and get his face in there — the only way the poor mangy thing fit in this dusty, cobweb-strung crawlspace is because it’s so damn skinny.

“Go on,” he repeats.

The dog regards him for a moment or two before extending its muzzle outward just enough that a dry pink tongue can snatch up the meet. It chews it slowly, laboriously, as if it can barely scrounge up the energy. When Billy offers it another piece, it’s quicker to take it this time, and its teeth work the stringy beef a little easier.

By the time Billy has fed it all the meat, its head is up off its paws, and he thinks he can spot a shadow of a wagging tail. He gives it the carrots and a few of the potatoes, too, and he’s offering the mangy thing his hand so it can lick the gravy off his fingertips when he hears —

“What are you doing down there?”

His head jerks up at the sound of your voice, which is a little bit unfortunate because he’s still partially under the boards of the porch. Billy yelps, and the dog yelps, curling back in on itself and gazing at him with a rather injured look, as if it can’t believe he’s done that.

“There’s a dog under here,” he says, his voice a little strained owing to the throbbing knot at the back of his skull.

He wriggles out in the least awkward way he can, during which he still feels like a fish flopping around on the dock, emerging with dirt and dust all over his front. He hasn’t even fully stood up and you’re dropping to your knees, peering under the porch.

“Oh, look at him,” you breathe.

Billy knows just what that tone means. It’s the same one that presaged the two of you adopting — or “housing”, as you’d put it — a clutch of baby bunnies after their mother had been killed by a fox, the same one that resulted in Billy coming home to find a bedraggled kitten that looked like a water-logged dust bunny curled up on his pillow. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s so hard to say no to you, but…

“Honey,” he says, as you emerge from under the porch. He offers you a hand to help you to your feet, as if that’s going to soften the blow any. “You know how Jesse feels about dogs.”

You push your jaw forward mulishly. “So we’ll hide it,” you say. “If you can train a horse not to be spooked when you’re half out of the saddle and firing a gun, we can train this dog to stay under the bed. Or—” You brighten as another idea occurs to you. “He could just stay with me during the day, and we’ll keep him in our room at night.”

His resistance is already waning at the hopeful look on your face, and then you step closer, grasping at his arms. “We’ll keep him for just a little while,” you say. “Just until he’s better. And then we’ll find someone who can take care of him.”

Billy chews on the inside of his cheek. He knows Jesse better than you do — knows that he’s capable of doing really nasty things, especially to those he thinks are weaker than he is. Most people would say Jesse is a bully, and maybe he is. But Billy can’t shake the memories of a time when Jesse was his best friend, almost a savior, and so he likes to think it’s more than that.

He and Jesse are two sides of the same coin, people who’ve been kicked around by life so often that their bruises never fully heal before they are marked up with new ones. Billy decided a long time ago to take it on the chin, at least when it came to himself. Other people are different. He’s never going to be okay watching injustice hurt other people.

Jesse, though? It’s the other way around. He’s been hurt so often, disappointed so much, that he has to direct it out, turn it away, before it eats him up.

“Please,” you murmur, breaking him out of his thoughts. “I won’t let Jesse do anything to him. It’ll be alright.”

He sighs. “I’m not worried about that,” he says. When you frown, he corrects himself: “I’m not just worried about that. I won’t let him do anything to that dog, either. But I’m worried about what he would do to you if you got in his way.”

Even though he expects you to huff, say something about how you can take care of yourself, instead you’re smiling. “You said you won’t let him to anything to that dog,” you say, still grinning. “You won’t. Which means you’ve already agreed, you just haven’t said so yet.”

Billy closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a soft breath through pursed lips. He isn’t a praying man, but if he was, he’d be praying right now for the strength to everybody through this — you, first and foremost, then dog and himself — and that the two of you will find a home for this dog quickly.

One that isn’t under Jesse’s nose.

“Alright,” he says. “But you’re gonna have to figure out how to get him out from under th—”

He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before you’re on your knees again, rubbing your fingers together like you’re playing the world’s smallest violin. “C’mere,” you croon. “C’mere, honey, it’s alright. You’ll be alright, I promise. Just come out. C’mere.”

Billy is about to say he’ll go back for more stew before he hears a shuffling noise, a few small whimpers, and then the dog is shuffle-crawling right into your open arms.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 3 months ago

Text

billy x reader - finding a stray dog

He can understand that, to a certain degree.

“Go on,” he says softly, with the same soothing, gentle tone he uses when trying to calm a skittish horse. “That’s for you.”

“Go on,” he repeats.

“What are you doing down there?”

“There’s a dog under here,” he says, his voice a little strained owing to the throbbing knot at the back of his skull.

“Oh, look at him,” you breathe.

“Honey,” he says, as you emerge from under the porch. He offers you a hand to help you to your feet, as if that’s going to soften the blow any. “You know how Jesse feels about dogs.”

Jesse, though? It’s the other way around. He’s been hurt so often, disappointed so much, that he has to direct it out, turn it away, before it eats him up.

“Please,” you murmur, breaking him out of his thoughts. “I won’t let Jesse do anything to him. It’ll be alright.”

One that isn’t under Jesse’s nose.

“Alright,” he says. “But you’re gonna have to figure out how to get him out from under th—”

Billy is about to say he’ll go back for more stew before he hears a shuffling noise, a few small whimpers, and then the dog is shuffle-crawling right into your open arms.

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