#billy knight x reader

[usedtobecooler]

Oh my fuck if you used your writerly powers for Billy Knight *chews on pillow*

How about making Billy come twice, he'd be so desperate to be good for you but overstimulated and a mess. Can be from riding him until he's hard again, sucking him off, idk my eyeballs are gonna explode if I think about it too much 😱

Pairing | Billy Knight x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), handjobs (not really, it's over his pants lol), oral m receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it kids), dubious content (possibly? it's very much wanted but billy doesn't voice his consent), premature ejaculation, overstimulation, mentions of poor mental health, mentions of medication, mention of physical ticks, health facility setting, fluff, angst, billy is incredibly touch starved.

Word Count | 3k

A/N | this was purely self-indulgent because i love billy so much, i've not proofread it so if you see any mistakes no you didn't

"Bill, how longs it been since a girl touched you?" You ask quietly, leaning out to rest your hand on his knee. You don't miss the way his leg jerks a little under the touch, like you'd burned him with a match.

"I don't - I don't know. Not since I was in school, a while ago." Billy's voice is thick, wet, accent shining through with every word he speaks. You can tell he's mortified by your question, the way his tick kicks up a little after being stagnant the whole of your visit so far, the constant swiping of his nose turning it red raw.

You wince a little at his confession, can't help but screw your face up - it's obvious that you look sad for him. He hadn't had it easy his whole adulthood, really, being constantly in and out of hospital for various mental health disorders meant that he was starved in the affection department, too busy trying to get better before he could focus on a girl.

He looks like he's getting better, that you can tell. He was finally allowed visitors in his room, not in the mess hall, which meant he was being trusted alone without constant supervision. He also just looked cleaner cut; the black Henley adorning his toned torso suited him so much better than the baggy grey hoodie he always wore. His hair was neat, combed back, though his stubbly beard still remained.

He looked nicer with it, you thought. Not so much like a scared schoolboy, it made him look older in a more masculine way. He'd told you the medication was helping, too, that he was sleep schedule was improving and he wasn't so anxiety ridden all the time, scared that somebody was coming to get him.

This private place had been better than anywhere the NHS had sent him, clearly having money was the big factor in whether mental health sufferers really ever got the help they needed. You didn't pry him on where the money came from to pay for the treatment, sometimes it was better to stay out of the Knights' business.

"Where were you, uh, going with this?" Billy's shaky voice snaps you out of your trance, and you realise you'd been staring back and forth between his face, chest and crotch unabashedly this entire time. Your cheeks heat up, and you glance away to look at the clock ticking behind his head, suddenly becoming so interesting.

"You'll think I'm being so silly," You sputter, subtly fanning your face with your hand that wasn't still slapped on Billy's knee, in a bid to cool down a little, embarrassment taking over your whole body, "I just thought that, maybe, it'd help you relax a little if you, or if I helped you... take the edge off."

Billy cocks his head to the side, confusion etching onto his features before it dawns on him exactly what you meant. He flushes a deep red, "Oh, um. The prescription pills they have me on s-sort of... stop me from being able to f-finish, uh, lot of the time."

You're the reason he's stuttering, you know that and it's making you want to lunge at him and wrap him up in a big hug to calm him down. You've clearly mortified him with your question, too forward and full on for somebody who may as well still have been a virgin with the amount of time that'd gone by since he'd last been in any sexual encounter that wasn't with his own right hand.

"I can... well I can try?" You say it like it's a question, eyes flitting back to look at him once more, the heat on his face making him look even more endearing, his long dark lashes fanning across the tips of his cheeks as he closes his eyes and sucks in a sharp breath.

Your hand had inched further up his thigh without you even realizing, and you gasp when the back of your hand brushes against his obvious erection through his dark jogging bottoms. You question now if it's not actually embarrassment that's making him flush so dark - but arousal instead.

"You'll tell me if I'm reading this wrong, yeah?" You ask him gently, voice barely above a whisper as you slide your palm over his cock through the thick material of his pants, clear outline making it obvious he had no underwear on underneath. Your breath hitches as you go to curl your hand around his length, so thick that your fingers can't wrap around it fully.

You're watching in awe as a wet patch starts to form on the soft cotton, dampening it until it's stained darker, whilst you go between ghosting your hand up and down gently and squeezing softly. Billy can't rip his eyes away from you, drifting back and forth between your shocked face and your hand grasping at him.

"I'm gonna cum, darlin'. Sorry, shit," Billy's hand claws onto the leather arm of his chair and he's hunching in on himself, coming with a low, gruff moan, painting the inside of his sweatpants with his release.

Your eyes widen in shock, a gasp escaping your lips as you sit back and take in what just happened. Your thighs clench, a wave of heat overcoming your body at the thought of him coming undone so easily under your touch.

"M'sorry, this is so embarrassing." Billy's whiny little voice breaks the silence, he throws his head back and rubs at his face with his hands. They're big enough that they completely engulf his features, making his head seem small in comparison. In that split second, you decide you want - no, need to have his hands all over you. You needed to show him what it was like to touch a girl, feel her go pliant under his touch.

"It's not." You say it all too quick, hand tearing away from his crotch to grab at his arm and pull his hands away from his face so he could look at you properly. His eyes are watering, big brown orbs clearly showing his distress and it makes your heart ache, "It's not embarrassing, Bill. It's normal, you've not been touched by another person in, what, seven years? Maybe longer? Don't feel like you should be better at this."

You slip out of your own chair across from Billy, sliding onto your knees in front of him with a dull thud, shuffling between his spread legs, "Can I touch you again? Proper this time?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, batting your lashes at him prettily, "I promise I'll make it good for you."

Billy shakes out a stuttered sigh, cock already kicking up again in interest at the thought of your bare flesh connecting with his own. You're so gorgeous, he's thought about you in this way for so long, but he always thought you'd do better than him. That you could do better than him.

He thought you were only still friendly with him out of pity, at the end of the day you had been Jimmy's friend first. You hadn't had any dealings with Jimmy in years, yet you always still checked in with Billy, visited often. Maybe it was because you knew he didn't really have any other friends, nobody to look out for him but you.

Billy hazards a glance down at you when he feels your fingers brush over the waistband of his soiled sweats, helps you by lifting his hips up when you tug at them to pull them down. You leave them to pool at his ankles, no patience to take them off completely.

He's fully hard again just at the sight of you on your knees in front of him, leaky tip slapping against his belly, his previous load still glistening down his shaft, perfect for using to lube him up.

"Can I put my mouth on you?" You ask tentatively, fingers ghosting over his balls, up his shaft to wrap deftly around the tip. You pull his foreskin down a little to reveal the mushroom shaped head, another blurt of precum shooting out of his slit and coating your thumb.

Billy never does reply to you, too entranced with the look of your hand on his bare skin, your own flesh feeling so hot it almost burns, searing through his sensitive spots.

You shuffle forward a bit more, mouth hovering over the head of his cock so you can spit a glob of saliva onto it for extra lubricant. Billy hisses, big doe eyes staring at you, unblinking, in awe of you and what you're doing for him.

When your lips finally wrap around the tip, you can't help the moan that leaves you. He tastes salty but clean as you suck and lick at him, heady in such a delicious way it intoxicates you, clouds your senses. You move your hand a bit lower so you can take more of him in, having to bring up your other hand to wrap with it so you can cover his shaft properly.

He's so thick, stretching your mouth wide and cracking your lips. You sink down a bit further, taking more of his cock in until you're gagging, throat closing up around him.

You can hear Billy's fingernails scratching at the leather of the chair, his hips stuttering up into your mouth in a telltale sign that he's close to coming already. His belly is shaking, moans escaping him in quick presession like he can't contain them.

You can't let him come like this; you had to have his cock in you before your visit was over, your core ached for it, your panties feeling damp just from touching him. Billy consumed your entire being, had you feeling needy and desperate.

When you release his dick with a 'pop' he sputters out a little whine, a clear sign that he was so close to the edge before you finished what you were doing.

You look up at him through wet lashes, his face burning a deep purple and the veins on his neck popping from the strain of him struggling not to come. You get up off your knees, pulling your tights down your legs along with your panties so that you're bare from the bottom down, sliding your shirt up over your head to just leave you in a bra on top.

"What're you, shit," Billy struggles to get his words out, ticking and wiping his nose with the backs of his fingers, "what're you doing?"

"Can I ride you?" You ask gently, edging closer to him and kicking his feet until his legs are a bit closer together. Billy nods, and you take that as permission to mount him, spread legs bracketing his hairy thighs.

You flip your skirt up a little, reaching behind you to grab at the base of Billy's cock. You rub the tip in between your folds, all whilst watching him and you don't miss the way his eyes roll back, head tipping so his stubbly neck is bared to you.

You take it slowly, sliding down inch by inch until your cunt is nestled against his groin, thatch of dark pubes tickling your delicate skin. You feel so full it's delicious, his thick cock feeling like it was made to be nestled deep in you.

Billy instinctively reaches out to grab at your hips, stilling you from moving until he got used to the feeling of your soaking wet cunt enveloping him. He breathes in and out deeply, not even baring to look at you, worried he'd blow his load immediately if he did.

You bring your hands out to gently brush over his cheeks, silently forcing him to look at you, which he does eventually. He's just so pretty, his big brown orbs watery and bloodshot, his plump red lips bitten, his cute nose darkened from the constant rubbing as he ticked.

He was so perfect you couldn't fucking stand it. You let your knees do some work for you, finally lifting up a few inches and sinking back down to the hilt. Billy's eyes flutter shut, a high-pitched moan leaving him, the feeling of your sopping, gummy cunt tightening around him feeling fucking heavenly.

You pick up a steady pace quickly, letting yourself be consumed by Billy completely. His big hands running up and down from your waist to your hips and back again, his moans and whimpers clouding your head, his thick cock nudging at your insides so deliciously it made you ache.

You remove your hands from his face, reaching to unclasp your bra and let it fall, baring your tits to him. You shake him gently to make him open his eyes, so he can get a good eyeful. What you don't expect is for him to lean forward immediately and latch onto your left nipple, suckling gently.

"Oh, Billy," You're a moaning mess above him, your cunt feeling so full, whole body on fire with the feeling of his body hard pressed against yours. He's mouthing at your breasts, sucking on your nipples as if his life depended on it.

He's whining, hips stuttering up against yours to meet your bounces. There's no real rhythm to it, his inexperience clear as day, but you're struggling to care with how good he's making you feel. The catch and drag of the head of his cock brushing your spongey spot, making your pussy slicker than before.

"God, darling, I'm so sorry," Billy groans, letting go of your nipple and kissing along the swell of your tit instead, whining out as you speed up a little, helping him chase his orgasm, "I'm gonna cum, fuck."

"Do it, babe, s'okay," You moan, tugging at his hair a little to get him to crane his neck up, to finally press a kiss to his lips. That's what does it for him, has his hips stuttering against yours as he comes deep inside of you.

He opens his mouth to moan, and you take that as your opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth to lap lazily against his own. He shudders through his orgasm, your hips slowing down to a stop when he starts to shake with overstimulation.

He's not very good at kissing, but his plump lips and wide tongue make up for it. You find your cunt fluttering at the feeling, clamping down around his cock to milk the final bit of come out of him. You try not to be disappointed that you haven't been able to chase your own release, too focused on making Billy feel good.

You're not sure when you stop kissing, but when you do and you open your eyes again, you notice Billy's eyes are wet and his cheeks are stained with tear marks. You wipe his tears away with your thumb, smiling at him until he's forced to smile back.

"Good?" You ask gently, hips rocking subtly, his soft cock still nudging slightly against your soft spot. You try not to be pushy, knowing he'd be sensitive, but you can't help but want to do it again, the coil in your gut still wound tight with need.

Billy nods, huffing out a little, "I can - I can feel that, you know?" He says, nodding towards your soft hips moving, "It's - it's really sensitive, God."

You continue moving your hips in silence, squeezing your cunt around him, feeling his dick throbbing inside of you like it's trying to pique interest again. You really hope it does, you need to do this for a little longer, just a little.

"You can come again though, right? Let me try, please?" You're basically begging him, forehead to forehead and circling your hips back and forth on his already half hard cock and he's crying again, overcome with pleasure and sensitivity, struggling to think straight through the feeling of you on top of him.

Billy nods anyway, a silent yes and you use the leverage of your knees on the hard material of the chair to rise back up again, sinking back down softly. You do it like this until he's fully hard again, up down, up down, up down, your nails digging into the skin of his neck to keep yourself stable.

His hot hands on your waist make your skin feel like it's on fire, has your tummy coiling even tighter, the telltale sign of your own orgasm beginning to wash over you with every drag of his cock head against your gummy walls.

"That's it, Bill, God, your cock feels so good." You cry out, chasing your high until your cunt spasms around him and you feel the white-hot waves of pleasure crashing around you. A gush of slick comes from you, making your pussy impossibly wetter, so wet you feel it drip down your inner thighs onto Billy's own.

You feel like you black out for a second, only coming to when you feel Billy's hands grip onto your hips impossibly tighter so he can fuck up into you from below, his wet moans telling you he's close to coming again, too.

"Fuck, I love you, darling, shit. Love you, always have, m'so sorry, fuckfuck," Billy's hands slide up your back, tugging you until you're impaled on his cock impossibly deeper, chest pressed flush to his own as he comes for the third time, face buried into your neck tightly.

Your heart swells at his words, face flushing dark at the confession. Your insides bloom warmly, consumed with the sheer love you have for him, "I love you too, Bill. Loved you forever, was it not obvious?"

Billy's crying against your chest, hot tears spilling onto your bare chest, "No, I didn't, God, why didn't you tell me?"

"You needed to get better first, Bill." Your voice is soft, hand deftly running over his hair soothingly, "You're getting better now, though. It was time. I'm here forever, I'm not going anywhere."

You whisper encouraging words into his skin until his cries come to a stop, his shuddering body finally stilling. He'd finish his treatment, get the fuck out of here and you could start your life together.

It was the only thing keeping him focused on getting better - he needed to, to go out and see the world with you by his side.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 || billy knight x nurse!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || during his time in hospital, billy couldn't help but fancy the sweet but headstrong american nurse taking care of him. it would've been harmless if it weren't for your own growing crush on your patient: the quiet, gentle man with those brown eyes that made your heart flutter when he looked at you like that.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 9.5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ ONLY!!, male masturbation and brief oral m receiving), medical ethics violation so kinda dubious consent but trust me it is very much wanted, fluff, some angst, touchstarved billy, american reader, mentions/discussions of psychosis and other psychotic patients, brief mentions of SA, hopeless romantic billy, yeah just lots of sweetness with some filth in the middle

"It's important that you stay calm."

That was what made him look at you, scared and confused, before he seemed to finally notice the hand you'd laid on his shoulder to try to soothe him: that was always a risk, touching them without permission, but he'd woken up with a start and been so clearly upset and disoriented, you didn't know what else to do.

Thankfully, as he looked at your hand on him, he stilled, hesitantly leaning back onto the propped-up bed.  The doctors thought it would be better for him if the bed was partially upright while he began to exit his coma, preventing too much blood pooling near the wound at his chest.

You took your hand away as he stilled, and he looked around the white-and-beige room.  "Where am I?" he asked.

"Saint Anne's, South London," you answered.  He raised an eyebrow at you and you figured why he asked.

"Did you think you'd somehow woken up in America?  Because of my accent?" you snorted.

He blinked self-consciously; "Err— I guess not."

"You wouldn't be the first," you assured him.

"What's an American nurse doing in London anyway?" he wondered.

"Not much," you shrugged, "just healing the sick, feeding the hungry— generally being a saint."

He smirked a bit, and you smiled at him in return.

“I’ll be your day nurse while you’re here,” you explained, “so if you need something, you can press this button here— and it’ll be me that comes, most of the time, if I’m not too busy and have to send somebody else.  Anything you need, I’ll do my best to help you, alright?”

A moment’s hesitation was followed by a nod, and he seemed too nervous to even look right at you— he would take these little glances over you, then up at your face, then back down to his bed again.  He wiped his fist under his nose quickly.

“William, is it?”

“Erm, Billy,” he corrected.  “Jus’ Billy.”

He cleared his throat dryly as his voice cracked, and you tilted your head.  “Would you like some water?”

He nodded again, and thankfully you already had a cup of chilled water ready for him— the big kind with a handle and straw, and markings on the side so you could monitor how well he was hydrating.  You picked it up and held it for him, guiding the bendy straw to his chapped lips so he could drink.

You knew already what kind of patient he’d be— the kind who didn’t like to ask you for anything, so you had to figure it out on your own.  There were definitely more like that here than back in America where you’d first started nursing; patients in the States seemed to have a much easier time asking for what they needed.  Here, there was usually some rigamarole to get them to admit they needed something— unless what they needed was painkillers, everyone’s pretty vocal about that.

“Is that better?” you asked quietly as you took the cup away, and Billy swallowed as he nodded.  “I’ll set it here where you can reach it, just be careful with that IV,” you explained.  “How’s your pain?  Is your chest hurting you?”

“N-no, it’s fine,” he promised, “can’t feel a thing… I’m guessing that won’t last long, though.”

You nodded in agreement.  “They’ve still got you on the good stuff.  They’ll switch you to Tylenol by the end of the day,” you explained.

“Afraid I’ll become an addict?” he assumed.

“Not quite,” you chuckled, “afraid you’ll get too constipated— side effect of the morphine.”

Billy choked, face turning a little pinker.  “O-oh.”

You only rolled your eyes in amusement as you turned around to fiddle with one of his monitors.  Patients, and Brits, were pretty shy by your standards; you preferred to be brutally honest, because there isn’t much need for prudishness in a mental ward.  “If your heart rate gets too high, or too low, it’ll page me,” you explained.  “Anything else, press this button here and I’ll be on my way— got it?”

“Yeah,” Billy hummed, “thanks.”

“Oh, don’t thank me,” you dismissed, “it’s just my job, and I love it.  I’ll be back to check on you later, but Nurse Tilly’s bringing you lunch at noon.  You’re not vegetarian, are you?”  He shook his head.  “Great!  Do you want the TV on?  Oh, uh, the telly, I mean…”

He shook his head again, and you nodded, leaving the remote on his bedside table in case he changed his mind.  You could feel his eyes on you as you left, somehow, and his image was still in your mind as you shut the door behind you.  Even as you went about the rest of your shift, checking in on your old patients and meeting some new ones, Billy in room 3041 was in your thoughts.

You didn’t know too much about the circumstances that brought him to your hospital— no one did, because he’d refused to tell police or paramedics who stabbed him.  His chart gave a colorful history— psychotic breaks, episodes of delusion and paranoia, on and off medication for years— but his behavior was so… gentle.  And very few of the people you’d encountered in this line of work were dangerous, despite the harmful stereotypes; but Billy was even more delicate than the usual, even more reserved.  Maybe he’d brighten up a bit when he wasn’t freshly awake from surgery.

Shaking the thoughts of him away and trying to focus on work, you figured it was just a little infatuation with a handsome patient— happens to everyone, right?

//

It had taken quite the effort to get the woman to sit down— she’d been pacing and chewing her nails, and you finally convinced her that it would be better if she was sitting, and she did.  After dodging some questions and looking around at the space behind you as if something was there— which, yes, was kind of unsettling but something you got used to— she finally got on with it and told you why she’d come to the hospital.

"They've put wires in me," she whimpered.  

"I've never heard of that happening before," you admitted.  "I wasn't even sure if aliens are real…"

"They are," she insisted.  

"And how do you know there are wires in you?  Did you see them put in?" you asked.  If she said yes, you'd know her hallucinations were severe, but she shook her head; you took a note of that on her chart.

"I can feel them," she replied instead.  "I can feel the electricity.  They're making me like— like an antenna.  For their ships, y'see?  And it hurts."

Your heart twisted.  "That would be terrifying," you agreed, "and painful—"

"Please, someone's got to take their wires out," she begged.

"Hold on," you tried to soothe her, "I'll check for entry wounds first, okay?  To see if I can tell where they've put them in."

She shakily nodded, looking down at the floor where her feet shuffled around on fleck-patterned tile.

You carefully lifted her hands to examine her fingertips and wrists.  "I haven't seen anything yet," you offered her quietly.

"Th-they hide them," she explained, "so the doctors can't see."

"Tricky, those aliens," you frowned as you nodded thoughtfully.  "They don't want you to get any help, do they?"

She shook her head. 

"But we can help you," you promised.  "If we can't find the wires this way, we should do a CAT scan."

"What's tha'?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just a bunch of X-rays taken all at once," you explained.  "If there's anything metal in you, it'll right up.  They are metal wires, right?" 

She nodded, already seeming to soothe a little at the prospect of a surefire way to find the wires she was feeling inside her.  It made you feel better, too, that you could help her somehow just by listening.

"I'll have the doctors give you a thorough scan," you nodded with a smile, "and we can see what we find, okay?"

It seemed like a great idea at the time.  You started to question it now that it was a few hours later and Dr. Humphries was glaring down at you.

"You ordered a CAT scan for a woman with schizophrenic delusions?" he snapped, looking up from the chart and back at you with a red face and flared nostrils.

"Uh, well—" you started to defend yourself.

"She doesn't need an MRI, she needs to be fucking medicated!" the doctor spat at you. 

Straightening your back, you frowned as you took offense to his tone. "You think I don't know that?" you returned with just as much intensity as he'd thrown at you.  "She's not going to take any pills we give her if we don't take her seriously.  A CAT scan will take a half hour and it might give her some peace of mind."

"Believe it or not, nurse, the purpose of that million dollar machine is not 'peace of mind'."

"Don't you mean million pound?" you rolled your eyes.

"No— you're such a dolt, I know if I'd said that you'd've asked how I knew what it weighed," he sneered, all too proud of his wit no matter how minimal it was.

From inside his room, Billy watched the argument unfold; he couldn't hear much, but he could see you crossing your arms and puffing your cheeks and getting right back in the face of the man in the white coat while he barked at you.  Another nurse was tending to his linens, and she caught a judgemental glance of the spat outside before shaking her head.

"Quite American, isn't she?" the nurse scoffed.  "Can't back down from a fight— or keep her mouth shut, ever."

Billy smiled a little.  

"And she's got no clue how to make a cuppa, either," the nurse added, "can't even use a kettle.  Not sure how she plans to find a husband if she can't figure that out!"

Billy felt his chest warm, and not in the painful way he was used to with his healing wound.  He didn't think you'd have much trouble at all.

//

He could tell you were in a worse mood than usual when you came in— even though he could also tell you were trying to hide it.  “How are you feeling today?” you asked him, a little exasperation tinting your tone.

“Better,” he nodded.

“Not too much pain?  Any soreness?” you continued interviewing him, but his chest deflated a bit as he watched you go around the room without ever really looking at him— you were just going through the motions, he was just another patient.

“Are you alright?” he asked you, and it seemed to break you out of your trance.  You looked at him, and you looked tired— not something he’d tell you, because it would sound like he was saying you looked bad, which you didn’t.  You looked a little sad, really, in a breezy sort of way like you were trying to shake it off.

“Oh, I— I’m fine,” you promised.

"Is that doctor giving you trouble again?" he wondered.  The question seemed to catch you off guard, before you glanced down shyly and then over your shoulder at the window into the hall.  

"You saw that, huh?" you noticed.

"He seems like an arse," Billy decided.

"He's not so bad," you sighed, "he's really smart— problem is he knows it, and he thinks it makes him better than everyone.  Thinks us nurses are basically just maids, too, or secretaries.  I swear, if he walks into the break room one more time and asks where his tea is, I'm telling him it's in the fucking harbor."

Billy snorted at your comment, stammering through his next question.  "Don't have anything against Brits, do you?  'Cause you picked a bad place to live."

You sighed, stopping your work for a moment.  "Well… no, I don't.  But I do have a bone to pick, I guess.  I moved here for a guy— this amazing, too good to be true guy.  Thought we were gonna get married and stuff.  I only thought that 'cause he told me so!  But he, uh… he had a few of us going, actually.  I was the only one who moved this far to be with him.  But after I found out, I didn't have anywhere to live, and I can barely make rent as it is so I can't afford a ticket home… so, yeah.  Stranded across the pond.  Because of some fucking guy."

Billy shrunk a bit inside as he looked at you— he could tell you were trying to be casual and silly about it, to hide how much you were still hurting.  "We-we're not all like that," he blurted out, and you looked up.  He felt even more stupid for saying it now that you were looking at him.  "Englishmen," he clarified.

Your lips slowly curled into a smirk.  "Not all juggling a half-dozen girlfriends at once?" 

"Some of us are lucky to just get one!" Billy agreed, and you laughed.  Your laugh was fucking angelic, he thought; it made him want to jump right out of this blasted bed and hug you, as bizarre as that would be.  Ever since he saw you he imagined you'd be nice to hold, but every day it only got worse— and you were so pretty and sweet, you probably had every patient wrapped around your finger.  You probably thought he was another dirty, sick stranger; you probably thought he was work.  And he couldn't even blame you.

"I guess I'll have to give y'all another chance, then," you shrugged.  Y'all.  How quaint.

"You can probably get a lot of guys' attention with that accent," he suggested.  And that arse.  But he didn't say that.  

"I don't really want a lot of guys' attention," you sighed.  "Just the one."

"Which one?"

"The right one."

His heart hurt because he knew the feeling, the one he saw on your face, the one that made your eyes sparkle differently for a second.

"But I don't have much time for that anyways," you shifted topics quickly, "working all the time."

"Must be tough," he nodded.

"I like it, actually," you corrected, "I always keep busy.  And the people here…certainly keep me busy."

He felt a little self-conscious when you said that.  "Sorry," he mumbled.

"No, not you!" you clarified quickly, leaning closer and reaching out apologetically like you might touch him again.  He wanted you to, so badly, but you didn't.  "I mean the staff more than anything.  The patients are what make me want to come back every day, even the tough ones."

"Am I one of those?" he wondered.

"No," you smiled.  "Don't tell, but you're my favorite."

Oh, you shouldn't have said that— it only hurt him more because he wouldn't let himself believe it.  "Bet you see crazies like me all the time," he shrugged dismissively.  

"Crazies? Yeah," you laughed lightly.  "But I've never met anyone like you."

His face flushed briefly and he looked down at his lap under the white woven blanket.

A page startled you out of the moment.  "That's my cue," you hummed.  "Ring if you need me, please."

He nodded and watched you dart away as quickly as you'd arrived, wishing he could keep you here forever but knowing it was better to let you help the others, too.

//

“Knock knock!” you greeted as you leaned into room 3282 to see the patient gathering her things.  It had been a while since you saw her in street clothes— not since you’d admitted her and ordered that infamous CAT scan— and she looked so much better than she had then.  Her hair was brushed and she was smiling at you, visibly less disoriented even when she was just standing beside the bed.  “I’m glad I could catch you before you left— I came as soon as I heard you were discharged.”

“I feel like we’re sort of meeting for the first time, now,” she explained.  “You saw me a few times the past couple days, but I wasn’t really myself…”

You nodded in understanding, and she bit her lip for a second; you could tell she was getting a little self-conscious remembering how dysregulated she was.

“It felt so real,” she breathed shakily.  “I could feel them watching me…”

“I know,” you nodded.  “That’s how powerful our minds are— everything we know comes from that squishy pink brain, so if it gets the wrong idea, it’s gonna convince you to believe just about anything.”

“You must think I’m an idiot,” she decided, “to ever believe that.”

“Not at all!” you promised.  “Listen, Miss Dougherty— it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.  You came here for help, that’s what you should be proud of.”

She nodded, but didn’t seem to really believe you, looking down at the floor.

“Honestly, people believe all kinds of ridiculous bullshit,” you announced, and the crude language got her attention if nothing else.  “Far, far too many people think that the Earth is flat, or that the polio vaccine could cause autism, or that immigrants are somehow both lazy and stealing jobs— or that you can look like Kim Kardashian with just some tea from the internet and portion control.”

She laughed a bit, and you laughed too, even though you were perfectly serious.

“At least we can give you medication for believing what you did!  Those people just have to live with it, that’s the really sad thing.  You take one of these with breakfast every day and you can be normal,” you explained as you pointed at the bottle in her hand, “they’re stuck with whatever they’ve got.  You’re the lucky one.”

“Thank you,” she nodded.  “I’ve been to hospitals before— but you really listened, even when I didn’t make any sense.”

“Hey, it made sense to me,” you shrugged, “I’d’ve been scared, too.  Keep up with the prescription, okay?  Don’t wanna have to see you here again— no offense.”

She laughed in agreement; “I will.”

//

He was halfway through watching something terribly mediocre on the telly when you came in; he jumped up to grab his fork and try to pretend that he’d been eating his dinner, but he started to frown shyly as soon as he caught your disapproving look.  “Billy, you’ve barely eaten it,” you noticed; it was obvious, with three quarters of the chicken breast still on the plate and the green beans untouched.  “Didn’t she bring that an hour ago?”

“Erm…”

“Is it the medication?” you asked, quieter, stepping further into the room.  “It can suppress your appetite.”

“D-don’t make me change to something else,” he blurted out, “I like this one.  I can actually think straight.”

You smiled patiently, and he couldn’t even look at you while you did it— you were so fucking pretty when you smiled like that, it hurt to look at it.  “I won’t make you change medications just because you haven’t finished your chicken, Billy.”

“I was worried Dr. Humphries might—” he began, cutting himself off with a hum.  “He said he was worried about me eating enough on this one, and that he’d change it if I lost any weight— b-but I like it…”

“We’ll just tell him you didn’t like the chicken,” you decided.  “If I bring you an extra slice of cake, will you eat that?”

He had to fight his smile from getting too big.  “I can try.”

“Easier to get down than dry chicken, that’s for sure,” you winked, putting the plastic cover back over his plate and grabbing the tray to set aside somewhere else.  “What are you watching?”

“E-erm, some melodrama, I think.  She’s been cheating on her husband with his evil twin,” he explained, just as the advertisement ended and an inquisitive musical sting indicated the show was back on.

“Don’t you hate when that happens, huh?” you offered sarcastically.  Your eyes stayed on the screen as you sat down on the edge of the bed, right by his hip; his heart fluttered with you so close, the warmth of your body just one pesky bedsheet away.  “Mind if I watch it with you for a minute?”

“N-no,” he assured, voice thin and wavering as he tried to act natural.  “Stay as long as you like…”

Unfortunately, you were interrupted almost immediately as a male nurse swung the door open— Billy somehow felt like he’d been caught doing something bad, when he wasn’t really doing anything.  The nurse said your name and you perked up.  “Been looking all over for you,” the nurse said, with a tilted grin that seemed a little flirtatious— maybe any smile would seem flirtatious when you’ve got perfectly white and straight teeth like those, and sparkly blue eyes and perfectly quaffed hair— Jesus, was this guy a model or something?

Billy hated imagining you spending time with this guy, selfishly.  “S-sorry,” you mumbled as you stood up, “I was just taking Mr. Knight’s dinner tray.”

“Tilly can do that,” the other nurse dismissed with a shrug.

“But she’s busy,” you noticed.

“Could you come out here?” the man asked you, and when you turned over your shoulder, Billy gave you a quick wave as his way of approving your departure.  You smiled at him one more time as you followed your coworker into the hall, just outside Billy’s door.

“Listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you…” he heard the man’s voice continue, right before the door shut all the way.

Billy furrowed his brow and turned the volume on the telly down, hoping to hear the conversation better.  He could still barely make it out— and he was afraid if he muted the show, you’d notice.

“...since you came here, and actually, I was thinking—” he heard part of a sentence, but it sort of went in and out.  He couldn’t tell anything else for sure until he heard your voice again.

“I prefer to keep my work and personal life separate,” he heard you say, distinctly, and he couldn’t decide how to feel— excited, that you seemed to be turning his guy down for a date?  Or heartbroken that he would never have a shot with you because of this policy you held?

You never had a shot with her anyways, his inner voice told him.  Well, at least Mister Handsome Nurse Man didn’t either.  Misery loves company, or whatever.

//

It had been years since Billy felt something warm.  He was all too familiar with his hand, rough and shaky— all too familiar with using his imagination to get himself off.  Of course, back at his flat he had porn to ease the way, give him something to picture… here all he had was the telly in the corner and the unending thoughts of you you you.

Just the other day you'd leaned over his bed and he could smell your hair.  He wanted to hold your head and bury his nose in it, breathe the sweet scent of you.

Once he caught a quick glimpse down your shirt before he looked away, out of nervousness as much as gentlemanly discretion.  But he wasn't feeling so much a gentleman now, after waking up in the middle of the night from a dream of you in a more compromising position.

He'd never had an orgasm from a dream, only gotten hard and woken up unsatisfied.  There was a monitor clipped to his finger on his hand— so he took it off and moved it to the other, so he wouldn't have to worry about it or the IV while he did this.

He already had to bite his lip just from slipping his hand into the hospital-issue pants, just from wrapping some weak fingers around his aching cock.  He'd made a bad habit of wanking frequently at home— not much else to do when you're trapped and alone, and it was the only thing he liked doing just as much whether he was off his rocker, or semi-stable, or medicated.  Thankfully, he wasn't on the kind of medications that removed his libido: that, or his fancying of you was just that powerful.

The room was incredibly dark with the shades shut, only half the lights in the hallway on, but even then he couldn't make out any light except for the dots where the strings ran through the blinds.  He watched that window when his eyes were open, but sometimes he shut them— it didn't make much difference, either way all he saw was you.

As he jerked faster on his cock, letting his hand tighten occasionally, he pictured you climbing on the bed and straddling him, resting your hands on his chest (even though that would hurt).  Remembering your hand on his shoulder when he first woke up made it easier to imagine, but he couldn't even conjure up how you would feel inside, how your body would take him— he just had to think about how it would look.

He grunted your name to himself, shutting his eyes tight, trying so hard to think of the way you'd moan as your hips rocked above his.  He wanted to watch you as you picked up your pace, so desperate for pleasure that you couldn't slow down.  You'd be such a wild thing, he decided, just as brash and shameless in bed as you are at work— if not more.  

He would give anything to make you say his name in that exact way, that needy hungry way just like he mumbled your name now.  His hips were starting to rock up off the bed, and he imagined his skin clapping with yours as you moaned louder and louder.  As unrealistic as it was, he was imagining you showering him in praises, so good, Billy, you're so good, fuck! but he couldn't always get your accent right in his head. Please don't stop, god, just don't stop, need t'come—

"All yours," he answered you under his breath, "not gonna stop, feels so fucking good…"

And then he couldn't stop himself from imagining you admitting, in bed or otherwise, that you'd wanted this.  That you had thought of him the same way— fuck, what if you touched yourself, too?  That'd be too fucking rich.  Billy wasn't really sure if girls did that— obviously they did in porn, sometimes, but he knew a lot of that wasn't real.  He heard that most won't do anal, either, but that's different; touching yourself is more normal, more natural, and fuck how bloody natural you'd look on your back with your legs spread, rubbing your needy cunt, begging to be touched, desperate for a partner— for him, for Billy who could fill you so nicely and make you sound so pretty.

He was already so close, in part from having taken a few days off from this, mostly because the thought of you was making his cock fucking throb.

As he got closer and closer to the peak, his mind raced with images of you— but not in the poses of the girls in dirty magazines, not how he pictured you naked, no.  It was different.  The way you'd look in normal clothes, or dressed up for a date.  How it would feel to watch you sleep next to him as the sun's coming up through your bedroom window.  Not just his name on your lips in pleasure, but in casual conversation with others— my boyfriend, Billy— or in a cackling yelp as he made some joke you hated to laugh at, maybe while he tickled your ribs to see you smile— Billyyy, stop it!

Holding the back of your head while he kissed you, your little whimper as you tugged him closer because you needed more.  Putting a necklace on for you, hopefully one he'd bought or made for you, and touching the back of your neck.  Kissing you there— and everywhere— and hearing you hum with satisfaction.  Don't do that, we don't have time before— oh god, Billy, we'll be late if you do that… hm, okay, just a quick shag before dinner.  No wait— just a quick fuck before dinner— the American way.

The intimacy, which sex was only one of his favorite parts of, was what he was imagining.  Cuddling up on the sofa, sharing popcorn at the cinema, cooking for you… that's what he was imagining as he realised he was going to come.

He panted and squinted his eyes shut as he fucked his hand faster and faster, heart pumping hard and fast as well, hand shaky but determined as he chased pleasure right around the corner—

The door swung open and you burst in in a flash, running to his bed, but you stopped dead in your tracks as he pulled himself off— well, not in that sense, like he had been a half-second ago— rather, pulled his hand away and pulled the blankets up, scandalised and stammering.

"Oh, fuck m'sorry— I—" he began.

"N-no, I'm sorry," you insisted, looking down awkwardly, "I thought— your monitor, it was— I thought you were having a fucking heart attack."

His baking-hot face turned down sheepishly, and he noticed the thin sheet and blanket did nothing to hide his unsatisfied erection, the fabric clinging to every contour so you could see basically the whole thing.  He coughed and put his hands over himself atop the blankets.

"I should've knocked— but I was worried you needed immediate attention—" you explained hoarsely.

"I didn't know you were on tonight," he mumbled, like that mattered.  Not as if he wanted any other nurse running in on this.  But it was different, more shameful, knowing he'd just been getting off to the thought of you.

"Wasn't supposed to be, but someone asked me to— doesn't matter," you shook your head.  "Sorry to burst in on you…"

"I wasn't…" he began, questioning if he should say it but going on anyways.  "I wasn't doing… what you probably think I was."

"I-it's nothing I haven't seen before, Billy," you promised, seeming a little surprised, if not irritated, by his obvious lie.  "You're a free man, got every right to take care of yourself—"

"Don't—" he pleaded, before he interrupted himself with a mumbled, "Jesus…"

"I'll go," you decided, "and leave you to it—"

"Christ!" Billy added, almost as if he were just now finishing the curse.  "S'not like I could… do that now, is it?"

"Seems you've still got everything you need to do it," you smirked, and he choked.

"God, don't tease me, said m'sorry an' all," he pouted.

"Not teasing," you shrugged.  "It's natural, everybody does it."

Even you?  "Y-yeah, s'pose…"

"Not much else for you to do here anyway, stuck in bed… can't help if you get horny—"

"Not horny, okay?" he spat out suddenly, and defensively.  "M'just— god.  Just lonely."

He wouldn't normally admit something like that, but it was so late and his chest hurt in a sense totally unrelated to his wound.  

When he heard the door shut, he worried you'd just up and left.  How cold that would be, to leave him alone as he said how lonely he was.

He only knew you were still on this side of the door when you stepped up to his bedside again, your shoes clicking on the floor.

"You should go back to sleep," you noticed.  Then why'd you shut the door?

"I— even if I take care of it, I don't think I can," he admitted.  "Sometimes I have—"

"Nightmares," you finished.  "It's in your chart."

"Please stay," he whispered.  "It's easier with you here…"

"Sleeping, or…?"

"Sleeping!  God, sleeping," he coughed.  "I mean, both, but—"

"I can stay," you offered.

"That was the first good dream I've had in months," he told you, easier to confess these things in the dark.  "The one that made me… like that."

"Very good dream," you agreed with a smirk.

His oxygen monitor beeped softly behind it all.  "Y-yeah…" he mumbled.  "It was— well, I bet you know it was you."

"Oh— how would I know that?" you sighed.

"Because you must have been able to tell I'm proper mad about you," he explained, "aside from just mad."

"I… I wondered if you were," you replied, softer.  "I hoped you were."

Billy, unsure what to say, turned to look up at where he was sure your face was in the room— and he could barely see it, his eyes still readjusting from the door being opened.  Your features were softened when they were lit up in light blue by the monitors behind him.

"I came in here to take care of you," you promised with a whisper.  "It's my job.  Just tell me what you need."

"I need— god, I can't say it," he whined. 

"If you can't tell me, then show me."

Your hand rested for a second on his shoulder, and he couldn't stop himself from grabbing it.  After debating it for a moment, he pushed the blanket and sheet down again, and sighed with a wide open mouth as he guided your hand to his throbbing cock.  It bounced up into your fingers before he'd even finished putting it there, so needy for your attention, so greedy to be finished off after being brought up to the edge like that.  Billy had never had the patience or fortitude to tease himself, the closest he'd ever come to edging having been those times he was on a certain type of meds and could jerk off all day and never come. 

He had the exact opposite problem as he hesitantly let go of your hand and watched you do it yourself, slow and gentle brushes over him, almost reverent in the way you touched him where he needed you most.  He almost didn't want to let go of your hand, he wanted to keep holding it just for holding it's sake, but he wanted you to act on your own: to not feel trapped or forced.  You were so delicate about it— he was so worked up you absolutely didn't need to be that gentle, he probably would've still blown his load if you tried to tug the bloody thing off— and he could see in the dark how little sighs fell from your mouth as you stroked him.

"God, I'm not supposed to do this," you breathed.  "S'it sensitive?  Your heart rate's spiked again…"

"V-very," he murmured out.  "God, you're— god."

"Fuck— I'm really not supposed to do this," you repeated again.  "But I— I've been wanting to for a while… no one's gonna come in while I'm in here, but shit, if someone did…"

It would be a huge mess, for sure, but sort of hot.  Even better if it was somehow another patient who thought they were the only one with affections for you.  Even better if it was that nurse who was hitting on you.  "Never— fuck— wanked a patient before, right?"

You laughed.  "No, haven't given a hand job in years, actually— feels a bit high school, doesn't it?"

"Fuck, wouldn't know," he groaned.  He meant it both as in 'you wouldn't know because you're so good at this' and 'I wouldn't know because nobody was wanking me in high school'.  "Your hand f-feels good.  I-I don't deserve this, I definitely don't deserve this— pretty sure I'm dreaming actually—"

"No, it's real," you promised, "I know it's real, 'cause in my dreams I've never got my work uniform on."

"Y-you don't have your work uniform on in my dreams, either," he joked.

How desperately he wanted to reach out and touch you with one of his hands— it didn't even need to be somewhere scandalous, though he wouldn't mind a chance to feel you up under your shirt.  Even just to hold onto your hip, or even to hold your hand, would be so perfect right now.  But he didn't want to take this too far and ruin it.  It was already too good to be true.

"F-fuck," he sighed as your hand twisted gently when it reached the ridge of his head.  He couldn't remember the last time anything felt this good, just being touched by you.

"Like this?" you asked in a meek voice— how precious, you asking him how he wanted you to wank him.  Even just you asking made his toes curl under the blanket.

"Yes," he hissed, "l-like that… little slower, maybe?"

You followed his command, and his chest reverberated a groan.  He liked it best like this, savouring every second— normally he'd just be beating himself off senselessly by now, desperate to come, chasing pleasure with reckless abandon.  But this was so different, and he never wanted it to end, even if his balls were tight and aching with the need to release what he'd been holding in for much too long.

"I… I can't believe this is happening," he blurted out as he watched with better-adjusted eyes your movements in the dark.  Your pretty, tender hand squeezing his swollen tip, giving his whole length nice, long strokes.  

It was incredible enough, then you pulled your hand away— and he was about to whine pathetically, beg you not to stop, he even thrusted his hips up in the air in search of more— and spit in your palm quickly before getting back to it.

"Oh god," Billy moaned, his head falling back on his pillow as your hand smeared your saliva all along his hot skin.  Your strokes were smoother now, and you could grip him tighter without tugging the skin the wrong way— and he couldn't stop fucking moaning, couldn't stop himself from trying to buck his hips up and fuck your hand.  The sensation was incredible, but the raunchiness of it was what really did him in.  Spitting in your hand so you could jerk him off better, really giving him the proper treatment; his whole body was sort of overheated and numb at the idea that you cared so much about doing this right.  With a dry hand it felt more like you were doing him a favor, but after doing that he was sure you wanted this for your own reasons.  He couldn't imagine what those would be, but he dared not question them.

"How's that feel?" you asked, almost clinical in your tone, the same way you'd asked when helping him stand up or after giving a fresh dose of painkillers.  And yes, he had imagined something like this when you asked him that before, so good to know he was on the right track.

It was sort of silly that you asked when he couldn't stop moaning and writhing in the bed, but he nodded as he answered: "R-really fucking good.  You're so good…"

He heard you hum a bit, a tiny pleased laugh, and he whined pathetically.  You seemed to be revelling in how little you could do to him to make him so desperate.

"So good," he said again under his breath, cock pulsing in your grip.  He was so close but he couldn't let it go yet, he couldn't finish now and just have you clean him up and go: he'd fight it off all night if it meant keeping you here, feeling you, being pleasured by you this way.

"I— I'll get fired if they catch me," you reminded him.  "But I just— sorry, I've been wondering about your cock for a while."

Jesus, she keeps saying things like that and I'll lose it in a second.

"And it's bigger than I thought."

Jesus!  He screwed his eyes shut tight in hopes of staving it off further— he didn't want this to end, you'd just barely started.

"I'm so fucked, fuck, might as well— oh god, you know the saying, right?" you prompted.  "In for a penny—"

"In for a p— oh, fuck, fuck!"

You'd bent down and captured him in your mouth, still stroking at the base with your hand but bobbing your head on the rest.

"Baby," he whined, bucking up into that perfect wet heat encompassing him, "baby, I'll come, god, I'm so sorry— I'll fucking come—"

You hummed around him.  You didn't even stop, didn't even flinch, as he began to spray his come on your tongue.  He grabbed your head and tilted his own back with a loud moan— dangerously loud— as his whole body seized up for a second.  Each wave of it seemed to hit harder than the last, especially when you sunk your lips down further and he could feel you swallowing it, god you were so sweet and you acted like a proper slut given the chance.  He couldn't have made you more perfect if he built you himself.

"Oh, fuck," he sobbed, looking down at you in the dark again, petting your hair, keeping you there just a bit longer as he basked in the warmth of your mouth.  Drool was sliding down his cock and balls in droplets, maybe some of it was his come you hadn't gotten down.  "Fucking perfect," he blurted out.

He felt you smile slightly around him, before you carefully slid your mouth off of his cock and popped back upright again.  "There you go," you said chipperly as if you'd just tied his shoes for him or something— not like you'd just given him his first non-self-induced orgasm in years and easily one of the best of his life, with only your hand and a couple seconds of a blow job.

"I— fuck," he choked, "you— thank you, I— oh my god… I'm sorry, I—"

"Sorry?" you repeated.  "What for?"

"Just— dunno, m'sorry, if I made you think you had to do that…"

"Well I had to do something to get you back to sleep," you joked, making his face heat up even more.  "Of course I didn't have to— actually, I think it might be, um, illegal, so… don't tell, I guess."

As if he could even imagine doing anything that would interfere with the chance it could happen again.  He had no idea if it would happen again either way— but he didn't care, he was still riding the high from it happening at all.  "I— I tried not to come that fast, but your mouth—" he began awkwardly.

"It's sexy," you promised.  "It's cute."

He blinked bashfully, as if he had any right to be bashful now.  "You're sexy," he returned, "really, really sexy, god.  You know how many guys' fantasies you just fulfilled?"

"Not interested in many guys' fantasies," you quipped.  "Just the one."

He beamed.  "Which one?"

"C'mon, Billy, I just swallowed your jizz, don't be coy with me," you frowned.

"S-sorry…"

You leaned down and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek.  "I've gotta get back to work—"

He grabbed your head and forced a kiss on your mouth, hungrily slipping his tongue between your lips and groaning as you relaxed your jaw to let him in.  

He hadn't kissed like this in ages, either, and the last girl he'd managed to go home with after some pub crawling hadn't even kissed him at all; he groaned against your mouth as he moved his hands from your face to your neck, your waist, your back… anywhere he could reach, he wanted to touch you.

He got lost in it instantly, you had to push pretty hard on his shoulders to peel him off, and he cleared his throat nervously.  "S-sorry," he said again, "I— I just had to kiss you, sorry."

"Even after that?" you chuckled.

"Especially after that."

"Even with the, you know, taste?"

"Oh," Billy smiled, "so that's what that funny flavour is…"

"You never tasted it before?" you realised.

"No," he frowned, "why would I?"

"I dunno— I've tasted mine," you shrugged.

"Oh— Christ," Billy choked.  He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to stop imagining you pulling two fingers out of your cunt after using them to make yourself come, bringing them to your slack lips and kitten-licking the cream off your hand…

"Really gotta get back to work now," you insisted, "try to get some rest—"

"Wait," he begged as he grabbed your wrist.  "Stay a little longer— we can just talk, if you want— I should return the favour though, shouldn't I?  Are you, erm… are you turned on at all after that?  If you stay I can help you, too— you can get in the bed with me and I'll make love to you—"

You snorted out a laugh.  "We don't have time for that, Billy, I've already been in here too long, there are other patients—"

"Don't go yet," he insisted again, squeezing your hand in his.

"What more do you need?" you asked, and the question made his heart jump.

"Just some time with you," he explained.  "Just— was that— are we—?"

He stopped as you leaned in and kissed his face again— the side of his nose specifically— gently.  "I'll check on you again in the morning before I go, okay?"

He pouted a little, reaching up to hold your shoulders for a second, before nodding and relaxing back into his bed.

You tucked him in carefully and encouraged him once more to get some rest.  "I'll be back just before shift change at seven," you assured.

He fell asleep so quickly, so exhausted even when his mind was wired, that it only felt like a few moments before he woke up again with a jump as the door opened.  He expected to see you come in, but he frowned at the back of Nurse Tilly, bringing the breakfast cart.  "Good morning, Mister Knight!" she greeted, and he sighed as he glanced up at the clock: 8:30.  He'd slept right through shift change.

"Morning," he greeted her flatly.

//

"I've got good news," the doctor smiled at Billy, tilting his head; somehow it almost seemed condescending.  "You're cleared for discharge.  You’ve healed well and you’re responding just how I’d hoped to the new medication.”

“But…” Billy started to protest.

“What’s the matter?” Dr. Humphries wondered.  

“Could I stay longer?”

“Erm, well… it’s a hospital, not a hotel, Mister Knight,” he frowned.  “What makes you want to stay?”

“I just— is my nurse here?” Billy asked instead.

“Which one?” the doctor asked before seeming to realise something.  “The American?!”

“Err…”

Dr. Humphries scoffed quickly.  “She’s just had a twenty four hour shift, she won’t be back until Thursday.  You certainly can’t be here another two nights with no medical need for hospitalisation.  I’m guessing you’d hoped to say goodbye?”

“Yeah,” Billy nodded.

“And you were hoping to ask her on a date as well, I presume?”

Billy choked, glancing self-consciously at the other nurses present— one of which was the handsome male one from before.  That face had a sort of sneer on it— subtle, but noticeable— as if to say yeah, good luck with that, mate.  “I— I just wanted to thank her,” Billy lied.  He honestly hadn’t been sure if he’d ever get the courage to ask you out, but now he’d never know.

“I’ll pass along the message for you,” the doctor offered, though he didn’t sound too enthused about it.

//

Google, delete history, chew nails, repeat.  illegal for a nurse to have sex with patient, can you lose your nursing licence for sexual contact at work, is masturbating a mental patient crime UK...

The search results were a mix of inconclusive and unencouraging.  They kept talking about why you shouldn’t have sex with patients— as if you didn’t know— but rarely clarified the exact consequences of your exact situation.  You didn’t know if the hand job counted as sex, anyways, or if it really mattered since you were both consenting adults of sound mind (well, some not quite as sound as others, but still), or if this rule really only applied to doctors who had a genuine power over patients in a way nurses didn’t exactly— they just gave more and more scoldings to anyone considering ‘beginning a relationship’ with a patient.  They gave examples that were obviously violations— like a doctor who was tried for sexual assault after convincing a patient that an invasive physical exam was necessary when it was actually elective and not related to their condition, or a nurse who was fired after touching an unconscious patient, stuff like that.  Billy had wanted you to touch him, that much you knew, he put your hand there himself; god, just the memory made you shiver, and you shook your head as you cleared your history again.  There was no real chance anyone would see what you’d been searching up, but the shame that burned in your gut every time you saw your own history was worth avoiding.

The really concerning thing was how little, after all that Googling, you actually regretted it.  Yes, you were fully aware at the time how risky it was, why it was a bad idea, what would happen if you were caught.  But for all this searching up about nurses and patients, it didn’t feel like that at all… it just felt like two people with a basic human instinct surrounded by insanely complicated circumstances.  

It wasn’t like you at all, either, and not just because you’d never made an advance on a patient before: that was obvious.  You usually didn’t do that much even with your actual dates, even with guys you’d met under exactly the right conditions.  Usually, a hand on yours guiding you there would make you shudder and jump away; usually, you wouldn’t even think to touch somebody like that on the first date.  You hadn’t even gone on one date with Billy, though the amount of time you spent imagining it was almost like you were trying to delude yourself into thinking you had.

You’d been daydreaming more and more since you met him about that sort of thing, about what it would be like if you met in some random way after he was discharged from some other hospital, one of those cute ways like in the movies where he helps you get something from the top shelf at the grocery store or you find his lost dog or he just sees you on the street and has to tell you that he thinks you’re beautiful—

Groaning, you shut your laptop and stood up; you were gonna be late for work if you kept torturing yourself with these fantasies.  

// 

Oh god, I’m actually mental— more than usual, he realised as he stood there, holding the pathetic arrangement of cheap daisies; the plastic around them crinkled as he relaxed his grip slightly from the sadness sinking in his gut.  She does me a favour, takes care of me for nearly a week and wanks me off once and I start stalking her— she’ll think I’m a creep.

He’d been waiting all morning by one of the entrances to the ward, hoping to catch you as you walked back in to work on Thursday, but as the hours passed he became more aware of how disturbing his behaviour really was.  You probably knew you wouldn’t see him again when you did that, that was probably why you did it— so you wouldn’t have to worry about exactly this happening, about him wanting more from you.  Hadn’t he taken enough?

Slumping his shoulders, he stood up from the bench and contemplated what to do with the flowers.  He was about to toss them away when he saw someone exit the building, an older woman, crying into a handkerchief as she talked on the phone.  “He’s gone,” she informed whoever was on the other end of the line.  “They just told me— he went this morning.”  

“Ma’am?” he asked her, not quite getting her attention at first.  He stuck the flowers out towards her and she looked at him with a hint of confusion.  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“O-oh… thank you…” she breathed, and he nodded at her as he turned and stuffed his hands in his pockets on his way towards the car park.  “Y-yes, sorry, someone just gave me flowers…” she continued as she talked on the phone, harder to hear as he walked away, “no, I don’t know him— some man outside the hospital— they’re daisies…”

He smiled a little to himself as he hopped across the street, jaywalking in a break between cars zipping by.  He’d nearly turned the corner when he heard your voice.

“Billy?” you noticed him, smiling wide as he turned to look at you, standing on the street— walking to work, apparently.  You were wearing your uniform already, and he’d almost missed it, even with how much he’d been dreaming about seeing you any other way.

“O-oh, erm, hi,” he stammered, wondering if he should pretend it was a coincidence he ran into you.

“You’re… you’ve got jeans on!” you noticed, and he looked down at his outfit— just the aforementioned jeans and an old t-shirt, with his hoodie on top for the chilly weather.

“Not much of an improvement from what you’re used to,” he mumbled nervously, rocking back on his heels.

“No, you look good,” you insisted.  “H-healthy, I mean— maybe I shouldn’t have said that, it could sound… forward.”

“Forward?” he repeated.

“Well, I was hoping to talk to you today,” you admitted, chewing the inside of your cheek.  Oh god, I’ve heard this talk before— ‘I like to keep my work and personal life separate’.  “I wanted to apologize.”

“Eh?”

“I shouldn’t— we can’t— I’m sorry,” you started over a few times, “if I exploited any… dynamic, that we had.  I don’t want you to think that because I’m your nurse, you couldn’t say— that you can’t say ‘no’ to me.”

“You’re not my nurse anymore,” he noticed, “I’m not a patient— I’m…”

He wanted to say it quickly, before he lost the courage, but with you staring at him expectantly he couldn’t keep his thoughts in order and he sort of just spit it out all at once.

“I’mjustsomeblokewhocan’tstopthinkingaboutyou,” he rushed.

“Huh?” you frowned, understandably unable to parse what he’d said.

“Oh, Christ,” he groaned, “doesn’t matter— y’don’t need to apologise, i-if anything I was gonna thank you again.”

“Well, you don’t need to do that, either,” you mumbled quietly, a shy smile crossing your face.  “We’ll call it even.  You got a happy ending and I get to keep my job.”

“Not quite even,” he recalled, face getting warm as he pictured exactly what he’d have to do to make what happened that night completely fair.  “I want something else.”

“Oh…?” you wondered, tilting your head.

“Your number, maybe?” he finally asked, heart pumping dangerously fast, and you smiled.

“Okay,” you agreed.

“A-and I could call you sometime.”

“Okay,” you repeated.

“And ask you to dinner.”

You smiled wider.  “Okay.”

“O-or I could just ask you now…”

“Okay,” you laughed.

“But maybe I should wait!” he decided suddenly.  “Maybe it’s better to do it later— I don’t know, I don’t do this very often…”

“I noticed,” you smirked, and he blinked at you shyly.

“I-I’m not totally helpless, y’know, I got you flowers,” he informed you proudly.

“You did?  Where are they?” you asked.

“E-erm, over there,” he pointed across the street, and you raised an eyebrow in confusion.  “I’ll get you different ones, better ones—”

“I don’t want flowers, Billy,” you replied, “I just want you to come pick me up when I get off today— my shift’s over at—”

“I know,” he interrupted with a beaming smile, “I’ll meet you by that door and we can go somewhere nice.”

“How about your flat?” you recommended.

“W-well… it’s not very nice…” he admitted, biting his lip as you stepped closer.

“I bet I’ll like it,” you purred, and he couldn’t resist the urge again— he grabbed your face and kissed you, way too needy and passionate for the seemingly-mundane situation here on the street by the hospital. But you hummed into it and kissed him back; he knew he couldn’t blame that first kiss on it being the middle of the night anymore, being all sleep-deprived and desperate, because he felt the exact same way at eight in the morning on a Thursday in the middle of the pavement.

Again, you had to push him back gently to cue him to stop, and he looked at you as your eyes fluttered open and your bitten lips smiled at him. 

“Not gonna run me late to work, are you?” you challenged.

“No,” he promised, “I-I really want to, but no.”

“That’s a shame,” you jokingly pouted as you lowered yourself from your tiptoes and started to cross the street.  “See you tonight!” you called as you went on your way, and he wanted to say something back— something smooth, but anything would do, really— but he just got mesmerised watching you go, knowing the next time he saw you would be for a date. 

He could hardly believe it was real, that he’d gotten this lucky, but he decided not to question that anymore and just accept whatever gift from the universe this was supposed to be.  He was almost tempted to just stand outside and wait for you for your entire shift, but he decided instead that he could at least go and pick out some new flowers for you, despite what you’d said about not wanting them… better safe than sorry.

[rehfan]

A Little Shelter

Billy Knight x Fem!Reader/AFAB!Reader

Warning: 18+ only please. MDNI!! (Move along children!); hurt/comfort (small minor injury to reader with mention of blood); terrible thunder and lightning storm outside; forced proximity; Billy is shy until you get his motor running; f!fingering; fellatio; PIV sex; sleeping bag sex

Summary: You’re hiking when a storm breaks out. Billy Knight is one of the trail docents who comes to your rescue - and winds up just as stranded as you. And there was only ONE sleeping bag.

Tagged readers: @h-ness1944

Word Count: 6.1K

A/N: This thing took me AGES, but this is in response to a prompt I got from @harrington4fan a long damn time ago. It came with pictures as a prompt, but I’ve since lost the original request. Apologies.

Read this on AO3 HERE

***MY WORK IS MINE. DO NOT REPOST TO ANY OTHER SITE. I AM A GROWN WOMAN WITH HER OWN MONEY AND I WILL HIRE AN ATTORNEY.***

*******************

He was there offering an umbrella to you on the hiking path when the downpour happened. It gave you time to grab your cagoule out of your rucksack. He had kind eyes. You had seen him on the trails from time to time, passed him here and there, and supposed he was a local. Turns out, he was one of the park’s docents, a volunteer who helped keep the trails clean and safe.

“There’s a bothy up ahead not half a mile,” he said as the rain came down harder.

“Sorry? A what?” you asked.

“A bothy,” he repeated. “You know, a little shelter?”

The skies above you both opened that much further and you gave each other a look of small panic. “Come on,” he said, lifting his umbrella above you both, “I’ll show you where.”

As you walked along the path, he continued to shelter you with his umbrella, managing to get his right half soaked. Fortunately, his hardy coat looked sturdy enough for snow. You, on the other hand, were only planning on spending one overnight and you had dressed in light layers, a day-hiker’s clothing covered with a cagoule, good enough for balmy weather, the odd breeze or even a bit of damp, but nothing much stronger. You shifted your pack on your shoulders that contained all your camping gear and cursed yourself silently for not re-checking the weather report before you left the house.

“My name’s Billy. Billy Knight,” he said, interrupting your thoughts. You gave him your name and your thanks for his assistance. He smiled shyly. He was kind of adorable. His coat’s hood was up and he wore a beanie underneath on his head, a scarf was around his neck beneath the coat. Large brown eyes peeked at you as you moved along. You felt yourself blush under his gaze like a foolish schoolgirl.

The bothy was just as he had said: little. It was off the beaten path by a few paces, covered in lichen and moss. You had probably passed it a dozen times in your travels and never noticed it. A stone block structure, it was only large enough to fit a handful of people comfortably and hadn’t been disused so much as it had been overused.

It had a rough wooden door, painted a dull brown and he opened it with a shove, allowing you to pass into the murky gloom first. Paint was peeling on the inside. The single open room featured only a small table and three chairs none of which were upright. A small wooden box was on the side of the fireplace containing dry wood and kindling, and a large matchbox.

He moved to the fireplace built into the opposite wall and went about the business of building a fire. “Got to keep warm. Can’t risk cold or exposure.”

You weren’t sure if he was speaking to you or himself. You paced the small space blowing in your hands and rubbing them together. It was already a cold and clammy October day, but you couldn’t resist walking the trails and camping overnight on one of the last days before the weather became too bitterly cold, the hills of Yorkshire becoming too harsh for the average hiker later in the year. Now, with the turn in the weather, you were doubting your sanity at the decision.

You attempted to right and brush off the three large adirondack chairs in the shelter, but one of them had a worn leg and it was wobbly when you set it upright. “Oh,” he said, “I’ll have to have that replaced. Please just leave it.” But just as he said that, there was a sharp edge of the wood that caught you and you pulled your hand back, hissing a breath, and sucking on your thumb.

He moved from the fire to you in an instant. Light from one of the tiny windows in the bothy lit his features as he took your hand and the worry on his face melted your heart.

“Splinter,” you said. “I have a first-aid kit in my pack. I’ll get it out.”

“You certain, miss?” he asked. “I can help you if you like. I have good experience with wood splinters.”

As you dug through your rucksack, you gave him an odd look, “You do?”

He grinned and explained about his wood carving. It was a hobby he loved and learned from his father. “Our dad wasn’t good for much, but he was a good carver.” His knuckles rubbed at his nose viciously as he gazed out of the window at the storm. “Taught me. And I’ve had a few in my time that were quite terrible.” He splayed out his hands. They looked strong.

You moved to the other window on the other side of the door to get some light on your throbbing digit. Tweezers in hand, you tried to grab the end of the sliver, but you couldn’t get the angle right. After struggling for a few minutes, you caught Billy’s eye. He had crossed back to the fire, but had been waiting patiently and watching you carefully while tending to it. Caving in, you offered him the tweezers with a wincing smile. His grin cut brightly through the gloom.

He took the tweezers from you gently. His hand was so big, they swallowed the small instrument. Taking your hand as gently as he could, his touch feather-light, he focused his whiskey-brown eyes on the task. Before he pulled, he said softly, “This may hurt a bit. Sorry.”

“S’ok, Billy,” you said, your voice low, barely above a whisper. The mood of the room slowly shifted the longer he stood so closely to you; being in this place with the rain beating down hard on the roof, the soft muted light from the window, the crackling warm fire, the closeness of this man you’d only just met but could just snuggle up to and sleep cradled in his arms, it was like the stuff out of a romance book… or like worshiping in a small country chapel. He smelled of cedar and mint and he was so close, you could see the smattering of freckles spread across his nose and cheeks. His tongue came out in concentration and, combined with his freckles, gave him the aspect of a schoolboy.

You almost sniggered at the thought when he pulled on the sliver. “Ah!”

“Got it… I think,” he said, holding up the tweezers. Your sore finger was raging and angry, blood coming from the small cut in it. You groaned and held it to you. Billy was instantly penitent: “Sorry! Sorry! I did say it may hurt. Please don’t be angry.”

“I”m not angry,” you replied, mystified as to why he would think you would be. Your thumb went in your mouth to soothe the wound, but your puzzled look was still on your face as you saw him blush.

“Come. Here,” he said, guiding you with an arm around your shoulders.

He rushed you to the table, spreading out your first-aid supplies. He treated your thumb with an alcohol swab that stung. He apologized for hurting you again, his pained expression breaking your heart. “It has to kill the germs, miss. It’s all going to be alright. I know what I’m doing. Promise.” Some antibiotic cream with painkiller and a plaster later, you were practically as right as rain.

The whole time he worked on your hand, you watched him, how gently he worked, how careful he was, how attentive. The last boyfriend you had wouldn’t have bothered to help you. Then again, he wouldn’t be with you there at all. Ryan had hated the great outdoors. You could barely pull him away from his video game console most weekends. You had been in that relationship alone and it had sucked. So you dumped him last spring and spent your summer on the trails of Yorkshire.

And today, you discovered this treasure of a man: sweet, respectful, kind, lovely, and caring; everything you had been starved for. You wondered how keen he was on you. Would he mind a little forward flirting? What did you have to lose?

“Thank you, Billy,” you said. “Are you always this attentive to the hikers here?”

His ears went pink as he went to stoke & tend the fire. “I do my best to help people. They leave litter more than they need help, though.” It broke your heart how painfully shy he was.

“They do, don’t they? There’s no respect,” you agreed as you turned to him, settling in one of the chairs you managed to place closer to the fire without further injury. It was starting to catch and give off a wonderful wave of heat, warming your legs, hands, and your face delightfully.

“K-keep it above your heart,” he said, coming to you, gently raising your hand across your chest and toward your shoulder. “It’ll hurt less.”

“Thanks,” you said. Everything about him was gentle. It was uncanny. Had you met in any other circumstances, you might have thought he was having you on with the way he was, but your meeting was completely arbitrary, him coming along the path towards you, seemingly lost in thought, just getting to where you were wandering along - and then the skies opened. More and more it was like something out of a film.

The rain was getting worse. You had planned on camping the night at one of the approved sites in the park, but that looked like a no-go as well. Perhaps you could stretch out in the bothy? You looked around while Billy busied himself with arranging bigger logs on the grate. Yes, it might do for a place to stay just for the one night, but you weren’t sure it was allowed.

“Can people spend the night in the bothies?” you asked him.

“Not supposed to, no,” he replied, sitting on the stone hearth and watching the flames. His eyes were alight with firelight. “People are supposed to go home or use the campsite on the other side of the park.” He blinked, breaking the spell of the fire and regarded you and your pack. “You were supposed to camp tonight?” You nodded. “Hmm,” he considered, “I suppose if the rain were to continue this way that you’d have no choice, but you should really go home if you can. I wouldn’t like to think of you camping in this weather.”

“That’s-“ you started, a little flabbergasted that he was thinking of you struggling to pop a tent up in this downpour. “That’s uh- very kind of you. I don’t think I’ll be doing that either. Going home as soon as the rain lets up is the general plan at this point. But if things get too late, I may at least get my mattress and my sleeping bag out. There’s room in here on the floor.”

“I can’t let you stay in here without telling my boss,” he said. “And he’s in the main building near the car park only until seven.” Billy looked worried and his knuckles rubbed at his nose again. You felt a sudden impulse to hold his hands and kiss his nose; the urge was so strong it was absurd.

You cleared your throat and shifted in the chair. “I don’t suppose you have a way of communicating with your boss?” you asked.

“I have my walkie,” he said. “I’ll try him now, shall I?”

“Be my guest,” you said.

He dug into an inside pocket of his jacket and brought out a solid-looking long-range walkie. He stepped to the door and signaled to his boss. The static was loud on the other end, but was soon drowned out by a peal of thunder from above. No response. “I think it’s the roof. Part tin, probably,” he said. “Signal’s useless.”

“You mean you have to go out into that torrent in order to tell your boss you’re trapped in the torrent?”

Billy smiled and shrugged. What choice did he have? “Besides,” he explained, “I’d have to report you too. Can’t have a car in the car park with no owner to match during a raging storm.” He cinched up his hood, zipped and buttoned up his coat and secured the sleeves more tightly around his wrists. “Be right back,” he said before stepping out into the storm.

You acted quickly. Because you had planned to stay overnight, you were also going to make use of the showers that were provided in the campground side of the preserve. One great fluffy yellow towel was pulled from your rucksack. This you placed on the table in anticipation of Billy’s return; he’d certainly be soaked and would need it.

You also set up your mattress on the floor, the battery-powered pump making quick work of inflating the mattress’s rectangular shape once you released it from its bag. You also took out your sleeping bag for good measure. It was big enough for two, but you had bought it that way on purpose. You hated to be confined while sleeping, but you loved to camp; it was a compromise to your senses.

The whole affair took only a few minutes and just as you were disconnecting the pump from the mattress, Billy returned. He was a sopping wet mess.

“Come to the fire, Billy,” you urged. “Get your coat off and dry yourself off.” You handed him your towel.

He pressed it to his face and thanked you at the same time, his voice sounding of muffled gratitude. The fringe above his eyes was soaked and he whipped off his hood and beanie and scrubbed at it. He took his heavy coat off and draped it over one of the other chairs around the table. He gave you a shy smile before taking a seat in the chair you had occupied, awkwardly hugging the towel to his chest and idly wiping at his face and neck. “Boss says, stay put. You have permission to stay the night, if you need to. He said the weatherman said it would be quite a blow. It’ll last hours. He’s packing things up and locking the gates early. Just headed to check the campsite wardens are prepared and then he’s going home.”

“Must be nice,” you muttered and you garnered a look of concern from him. “Sorry. It’s just I’ve been kicking myself over not checking the weather.”

He caught sight of the sleeping bag and mattress and nodded his head in their direction. “I suppose you knew what the answer would be, eh?”

“A girl likes to be prepared,” you said with a slightly embarrassed shrug. You stoked the fire with another piece of fresh firewood from the box before throwing it on. The heat it was producing was lovely. “Shall I make us a cuppa?” A slow smile crept over Billy’s face and his eyebrows raised. He nodded. You giggled, pleased that you could surprise him.

Ten minutes later, you both had steaming cups in your hands seated in front of a now raging fire that was radiating a delicious heat. The teapot/coffee pot kit you had bought came with two cups but you’d always just used one for brushing your teeth. It’s the first time you had gotten to use both of them as the manufacturer intended and it was kind of nice.

“How’s your finger?” he asked as he handed back his empty cup.

“It’s almost better.” You took up the tea things, giving them a quick rinse under the falling rain outside the front door and taking a moment to really watch the downpour. He came to the opening and put his hands out into the rain, rubbing them together, washing them.

“Almost?” he asked. Standing at your elbow, you turned to him, smiling, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“This is going to sound silly of me, but,” you began and walked back to your pack to stow your things. “But when I was a child… my mum, she would…” A wave of embarrassment came over you. “Ugh, it’s stupid. Sorry.”

“No. Go on. What is it, miss?” he asked, closing the door and wiping his hands on the towel you had provided him before and laying it gently over the back of one of the chairs to dry. “And how can I help?”

You blushed. “Oh, well…Could you… erm…Could you kiss it better?”

His mouth was an O of surprise. Regret twisted in your gut. You ruined it.

“Never mind. I’m sorry. I’m just being stupid. It’s just - you seem really sweet,” you explained. “You don’t have to. I just-“

In the firelight, he took your breath away. Slowly, gently, he took your hand in his own. His mouth met your bandaged finger. You watched as his perfect mouth met the plaster, not pressing, not to hurt, just to soothe any ache away, his soulful eyes never parting from yours. “Better now?”

Your breath caught and it took you a moment before you laughed nervously. “Much. Thank you.” He still held your hand and you still held his full attention when you asked: “Do you have a girl, Billy?”

His blush was beautiful. “Uh. N-no. Ju- uh, it’s just me, I’m afraid. N-no girl for me.”

“Oh,” you couldn’t help but sound disappointed. “No girls… at all?” Your meaning was evident. It wouldn’t be the first time you made this kind of mistake, but he had been giving you what you thought were all the proper signals for a heterosexual male.

His blush deepened. You hadn’t thought it possible. “Sorry, no! I like girls- love them! I mean… I just-“

“It’s okay, Billy,” you said, hurrying to allay his embarrassment. Your fingertips found his jaw and you stepped closer, his scent invading your senses. “I like you too.” This was a dance you weren’t used to doing. He seemed so skittish. If you were too bold, he might run. But he was so close. So close and looking at you like that.

His eyes drifted to your mouth and back. He wasn’t running. He was hoping. You could see it. You had to take a chance on tasting him.

Leaning up slowly, you touched his lips with yours only for him to react with a passion you didn’t expect. He cupped your face with his hands and let out a moaning sigh. Your hands wrapped around his waist. He felt so solid it made you weak. He turned his head and took you even deeper, tongue licking at your lips for permission. You couldn’t stop the sigh when you opened your mouth for him. He hummed back his pleasure.

If you weren’t wet before, you were now.

He was so delicious. Your hands fisted at the back of his jumper. The urge to climb him was overwhelming.

Billy was lost in the kiss, his hands drifting down your neck to brush the edges of your collarbones. But he hesitated and the kiss broke. “Sorry. Sorry. I’ve never- I mean, I have, but I’m not the sort of-“

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh you sweet man,” you cooed. “Come here.” Your arms came up and around his shoulders and you pressed another kiss to his mouth. He welcomed you in, hands respectfully on your hips, fingertips digging deeper as the kiss continued.

He was so gentle, it filled your heart to brimming. You found yourself winding your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, your body pressing into him. His hands came up and caressed your back, the left one high, tracing fingertips over the nape of your neck, the other low but not disrespectfully so, softly cradling your lower back.

Aching for him to touch you, your left hand traveled down to his right hand that was positioned at your low back. Taking it, you moved it under your jumper and you felt his fingers work at pulling your turtleneck’s hem up. Cool fingers touched your warm spine and you shivered and whimpered into his mouth.

Breaking the kiss, you asked, “Lie with me, Billy? Keep me warm. Let me do the same for you.”

He nodded silently against your lips and kissed you again, slowly. It was as if he were attempting to memorize every second that passed. It caused you to focus on little things: a glimpse of the crinkle between his brows as he kissed you again; the feel of the slick velvet of his tongue; the scent of him, complicated and woodsy; the gentle strength in his hands as he cradled you and pressed into your skin; the firm feel of him against you; his soft hair in your one fist as your other hand traced over his throat and collarbone.

The kiss broke with a wet smack and he asked you over hooded eyes: “Are you a dream?”

“No.”

“May I touch you more?”

“Yes.”

“May I kiss you more? In- in more places?”

You could feel his right hand leave your low back and the back of his knuckles drag along your side and around, loosening the shirt and dipping into the waistband of your leggings at your hipbone.

You nosed your face close to his ear and placed small kisses to the side of his face and right along the shell of his ear. “Yes, Billy. Anywhere you like, you sweet man. My protector. My good good boy.”

He let out a groan and his open mouth sucked at your pulse point at the same time his whole right hand made a dive to cup your mons, one thick finger just passing over your slit.

“Ohh fffuck!” you cried. It was all so sudden and smooth and you didn’t know the shy boy had it in him, but you didn’t want your surprise to stop him. “Yes, Billy. Please, Billy. Please.”

Matching the rhythm of his sucking kiss, his digit dipped deeper and deeper against your slit, brushing your clit, waking the fire in your belly. His other arm had wrapped around your waist to balance his pressure to your front. His arousal was pressing into you, rubbing against you, seeking out whatever friction he could find.

“May I confess something to you, miss?” You begged him to call you by your name. He pulled back long enough to meet your gaze before saying it like a sacred word. “May I confess?”

“Please,” your voice came out sounding as if you were the one who had to confess, not him.

He pressed his mouth to your ear in a tender kiss as his fingers continued their magic. “I saw you earlier this summer and I never forgot your face. I thought I would never see you again as I’d not seen you before. Thought you were an out-of-town day hiker. But then I saw you again. And twice more after that.

“Today I was low because I thought the season was over and you wouldn’t be back and now… today… here you were. And then the rain came. And now we’re stuck here. It’s like God smiled at me. But I didn’t dare push for more.

“But then you asked me to kiss your finger and I knew I didn’t want to stop but I must because you’re not mine. And then you kissed me and… and…now this. Touching you. It’s like God sent an angel.” He nuzzled at your pulse point again, eliciting another whine from you. “Are you an angel? Are you, petal?”

You didn’t have an answer for him. You were too dizzy at his words. Fortunately, your sweet keening at his speech was enough to encourage him to kiss you full on the mouth once more.

Your wetness doubled. Gasping at his touch, he softly caressed around and around against your clit, his tongue echoing his movements as he kissed you once more. It was intoxicating. You felt helpless at his touch, fists grasping at his jumper, wanting more, needing his skin against yours. And you weren’t alone in the need.

He moved behind you, his free hand snaking underneath your shirt and above your bra, caressing at the material over your left breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh beneath. His arousal was pressed firmly against you from behind and his arms pulled you further inward towards his hardened length. Facing the fire, you weren’t sure if the heat you felt was coming from it or the fire you had burning inside you.

Your face turned to accept his kisses, but you didn’t know where to put your hands at first, he had you at such a loss. Never in your life had you been surprised and pleased and lost in a man’s arms. Instinctively, you leaned back into him allowing your hands to settle on his, encouraging his touch.

He pushed his middle finger into your heat, causing you to moan into his mouth. His fingers were deliciously thick and your hips rolled against his hand automatically. Your knees were jelly and Billy adjusted his grip on you, wrapping his upper arm underneath your breasts and holding you upright as he continued to plunge his finger into you, pulsing slowly and gaining speed.

Breaking the kiss, it was all you could do to keep your footing when his thumb came back to your clit. You gasped for breath. Never in your life had your climax came so quickly. Instantly, your right hand came up behind Billy’s head. You pressed your temple to his cheek and held on for dear life as your orgasm ripped through you just as the lightning outside ripped through the sky. The thunder that followed drowned out your screams of Billy’s name.

“Oh, petal,” Billy sighed, pressing small kisses into the side of your hair and face. “You are so beautiful like this.”

Your senses slowly recovered. As they did, you found yourself still in his arms, his hand still over your sex, but his fingers withdrawn. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck whispering words of praise and thankfulness: “So good for me. So beautiful. Your body is perfect. I’m so lucky. So happy. Are you happy, angel?”

“Yes,” you sighed, “Yes, Billy. I am.” It occurred to you that he was still unsatisfied. You turned in his arms. “Take your clothes off. I need to taste you.” Sealing your words with a kiss, you stripped yourself bare and unzipped the sleeping bag, loosely throwing half of it over your naked frame to ward off any chill.

There was a dazed look on his face as he watched you settle yourself inside on your tummy. Propped up on your elbows you smiled at him and cocked your head, clearly waiting for him. “Come on, shy boy. You made me feel so good. Come here and let me do the same for you.”

“I’m dreaming,” he whispered. “I have to be dreaming.”

You giggled, delighted. “Good dream?”

“The best dream I’ve ever had,” he said, slowly removing his boots and letting each drop to the ground. His jumper and layered shirts went next, as he still regarded you with awe - blinking as though he was expecting you to disappear any second.

You were pleased at what you were seeing: a fit figure, with a bit of pudge at his navel. His brown happy trail was covered by his erect prick as soon as he released it from his trousers and the material fell to the floor. He slipped off his socks in an awkward jumping motion as he approached you and quickly entered the sleeping bag. He was so goofy and appreciative. It was delightful.

You wasted no time pressing yourself to him and capturing him in another kiss. The feel of his skin was everything. He was warm and firm as you rolled him onto his back, kissing down his chest, circling a fingernail around his erect nipple, your eyes never leaving his as you made your way down his alabaster skin. You licked at his navel, throwing him a teasing smile. His returning smile and little boy giggle lit you from within.

You moved down his body, positioning yourself between his legs. Your gaze had still not shifted from his and your reward was to see him backlit by the fire, his eyes glistening, seemingly reflecting the fire behind him. You sat back on your feet and brought his knees up with a guiding hand, parting them gently, smoothing your hands along the insides of his thighs toward his hard cock.

Billy’s hands were above his head clinging desperately to the top of the inflatable mattress and he already looked wrecked. His lips were pink and kiss-swollen, his chest flushed. You saw him swallow hard in anticipation. His breath was coming in pants and you hadn’t even touched him yet. His weeping cock, thick and uncut, curved slightly to his right. It was dripping precum on his stomach. You licked a fat stripe on his tummy, cleaning off the salty precum and giggling. “Messy boy.”

“S-sorry, miss. C-can’t help it. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Mmm…” you hummed, “So are you, lovely boy. God, I want to taste more.” You put your nose to his balls and licked just underneath them. Billy gasped and giggled, flinching. “Easy, pretty boy,” you scolded, pressing soothing baby kisses to his balls. “I’m just exploring.” You couldn’t help but notice his cock twitch.

You opened your mouth wide and took in one of his testicles, sucking on it gently before releasing it with a wet pop. He grunted with pleasure and you smiled to yourself as you turned your attention to his other testicle. The musk of him filled your senses as you gently suckled and pulled off.

“You taste so good, Billy,” you cooed. “Can I suck your cock? Would you like that?”

“Yes, please,” he said, still gasping and panting, watching you with fascinated cow eyes.

You licked a fat stripe up the underside of his prick. The sound that came out of Billy was a cross between a curse and a groan. It was the best thing you’ve ever heard. You took his cock in your hand and spit on the head.

“Fuck me,” Billy whimpered as you gave his cock a few slow strokes, spreading your spit and his precum together.

“Happily, sweet boy. But first: this?” you cooed just before swallowing his cock as far as you could.

He marveled at you. So beautiful and doing your best to pleasure him. And you were very good at it. He found himself writhing beneath you, using all of his willpower not to let his instinct take over and cant his hips up into your wet mouth.

You were drooling as you worked, but it only served to create a slicker surface as you pumped his cock with your mouth. Gently, you massaged his scrotum, delighting to hear him moan above you and call your name. He was desperate for release. You felt his cock twitch in your hand as you pulled off and worked him in your fist. You spit on his head again, watching it mix into the slick that was already there.

“Want to come inside me like this, Billy?” you asked, but Billy was too far gone. His eyes were glassy and his mouth hung open. “Billy? Sweet boy? You have to use your words, baby.” You crawled up to him, shifting your grip on his cock so that you could lie beside him and stroke him off. “Hmm? Did you want to come in my mouth or my pussy, Billy?”

His beautiful dark eyes met yours. Another lightning strike lit you both starkly. The rumble of thunder that followed echoed in Billy’s voice as he tried to form scattered thoughts into stuttered words. “M- my angel. Are you m- mine? C- can you be?”

“I would love to be yours,” you said, placing small kisses to his temple and cheek. “I want you to claim me, Billy. Mark me as yours. Come inside me. Deep inside. Will you do that?”

A feral look came into his eyes. “Mine.”

“Yours.”

Instantly you were on your back, his cock laying perfectly between your folds as he pressed his length along your gash. He ground his hips into you as he gazed down on you, his elbows braced on either side of your head. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, encouraging him closer, deeper.

“All mine,” he whispered into your hair. “Mine. Soft and warm and mine.”

You canted your hips upward toward him, the drag of his cock along your clit driving you insane. You needed more. You captured his mouth in a soft, slow kiss, moaning your desire into his heat. Slowly, your belly coiled and you chased your orgasm, pressing more kisses to his mouth and jaw and neck and praying that this man would indeed let you be his for the rest of forever.

The world tilted and you spilt over its edge, crying out Billy’s name to challenge the storm that surrounded you both.

Before you came down, his tip was at your entrance and you exhaled and let him in. Still wet from his fingering, it didn’t solve all of the burn that came from his cock spitting you in two. You wrapped your legs around him even tighter and locked your ankles, easing the thickness of him deeper and deeper inside you until you felt his balls against your ass.

“Petal?” His forehead was against yours. “Alright?”

“More than alright, Billy. My Billy. Lovely Billy. Good Billy. Hard. So hard. Fuck me, and thick too. Shit. Need you. Need this. Need to be all yours, Billy baby. Please. Make me yours.”

His hips withdrew and snapped forward, stealing the breath from your body. You cried out, but only in surprise as you begged him for more. It didn’t take Billy long to start a harsh rhythm squelching and slapping inside you for minutes at a time until finally, achingly, he pulled out of you completely and you gasped at the loss and whined for his warmth. Wordlessly, and without taking his eyes off you, he gently placed your legs against his shoulders and re-inserted himself inside you. And then, slowly - agonizingly slowly - he ground in… and out… and around.

His hips circled and grazed your g-spot over and over in the most delicious way. Your toes curled. Your eyes rolled up into the back of your head. And you heard yourself babble nonsensical gibberish into the room. Absently, you felt Billy kiss your neck and praise you: “Such a good girl. My girl. Want this. Want you. Make you mine right now. So tight for me. So warm. Going to come so hard for you, petal. Going to burst deep inside you.”

“Yes, Billy,” you sighed, “show the world who owns me. Show the world I’m yours. Come for me, you brilliant b- boy! OH!” Your next orgasm forced its way from your core to your brain in seconds and as you rolled with the wave of it, arching your back and clawing at Billy’s shoulders. In reaction, he filled you up with his cock with a rapid pounding that had him whimpering when he finally came inside you, your name on his lips, kissing it into your skin.

You lay together, frozen and panting for quite a few minutes, not wanting the feeling to end. Not wanting to separate into the two of you instead of the one combined. You felt your pussy throb and flutter around him, as if to say don’t go don’t go don’t go…

But soon muscles went slack and the end had to be acknowledged.

He moved above you, struggling to lift his head to look into your eyes. “Alright, petal?”

“Never better, love,” you smiled and kissed him sweetly. He slipped out of you and you groaned with the loss. He sat up and messed with the bottom of the sleeping bag. It took you only a second to realize, but at the sound of the zipper, you knew he was sealing the bag and settling both of you in for the night. He turned to you and held his arms out. Obligingly, you curled into him, sated and happy.

“Are you really mine?” he asked you, whispering your name into the fire lit room.

“I don’t think I could ever let you go, Billy,” you murmured. Tilting your head upward, you met his eyes. “You feel like home to me.”

“You too,” he said and kissed you gently. Cuddling you close, you felt so safe and warm. Dreams took you, but come morning, you would have plenty of time to discover that no dream could compare with the reality of Billy Knight in your life.

[elliewlums]

Not a very specific request but I’d love to see some touchstarved!Billy x clingy!Reader please and thank you 😊

touchstarved!billy my fucking beloved</3 also this is shit i apologise

content warnings: touch starved!billy🥺 touch aversion due to being touch starved, v soft, billy gets all the luv and cuddles<3

billy’s been neglected his whole life; it’s a fact you’ve very begrudgingly come to terms with. a fact that, even after months of dating your sweet boy, fills you with white-hot, indescribable rage. how is it fair? that the people that were supposed to protect him damaged him beyond comprehension.

billy struggles with physical touch. you can see in his expression how badly he desires to be held, to cuddle in bed and on the sofa and hold hands at the supermarket, just little mundane things. but he’s incredibly shy and he’d never make the first move, so that leaves it down to you.

of course, you’re eager to oblige.

at first it’s slow, a brush of your knuckles against his cheek when you leave the bed to make him breakfast, a kiss on the shoulder when he’s faced away from you. and when you’re sure he’s comfortable, it increases. a kiss under his jaw just because you feel like it, climbing into his arms in the middle of the night and tangling your limbs with his own.

he’s startled when you hug him in the shop one day. he goes taut and draws himself tight; you pull away to look at his face.

“this okay, baby?”

he nods, lip quivering, and you coo, reaching up to hold his chin between your thumb and finger.

“what’s the face for, then?”

he shakes his head and sniffs, but nuzzles into your hand when you splay your fingers to rub his stubbled cheek.

“jus’, no one’s ever hugged me like that before.”

“like what, hon?”

“like they love me, y’know?”

your heart breaks. “i do love you.”

the ghost of a smile plays across his lips, so quick that you might’ve thought you’d imagined it if you didn’t know better.

“you do?”

“of course i do.”

that conversation seems to have opened the floodgates for billy. he holds your hand the entire way home, white knuckled and clinging, and is reluctant to let go when you fish your house keys out of your pocket.

when you ask him if he wants to watch a film, he’s ready on the sofa for you to crawl on top of him; you press a firm kiss to his cheek and drape your arms around his neck. he goes soft and boneless, face pressed to the juncture of your neck as your hands rub along his back in big, sweeping circles.

and when he starts to loll and his eyes flutter shut, you pull him up and slide him into bed, wrapping him in blankets. he whines until you press your body against his and kiss all over his pretty face. despite the big bed, there’s not an ounce of space between the pair of you: his legs entwined with yours, his head on your chest, arms squeezing at your middle. you brush soft curls out of his face when his breaths deepen and slow. it’s the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him.

“love you,” he mumbles, half asleep.

“love you more, baby.”

[babybluebex]

Billy Knight craves your touch so much that it physically hurts, but he's too scared and insecure to initiate. (Please think of 14k and give Billy/this blurb a happy ending? ILY, congrats on 13k!)

UNLUCKY 13 ANGST NIGHT ugh YES billy my beloved boy cw brief mention of childhood abuse

He's always been told that it's rude. That asking for something like affection was bad, that it showed that you were ungrateful for what you had. Growing up, Billy never had affection, but he learned that asking for it only led to trouble. So he never did. He shut down those feelings and locked them up and threw away the key. He was a grown man; he didn't need paltry things like hugs.

And then he met you, and the need for affection grew. He loved you— God, he loved you— but affection was a tricky thing. He wanted to love you like any other man would love you, but he wasn't able to just hug you or kiss you. He always needed to justify it, and he never could come up with a viable reason why he needed to be affectionate with you. So, he never did, but it was starting to weigh on him.

You looked beautiful as you stood at the kitchen counter, doing nothing especially remarkable. You were cutting vegetables for dinner, and Billy stood at the doorway as he watched you do your work. He likes watching you be all domestic, and the urge to hug you came back. But he couldn’t possibly act on that, as badly as he wanted to. It hurt him inside his chest with the urge, and he suddenly cleared his throat.

“Darling?” he asked, and you turned to look at him, pausing your chopping. “Could you, erm, come here? For a moment?”

You put down the knife and advanced towards Billy, taking his hand in yours once you reached him. His hands were so big and you loved them, and you pressed a kiss to his palm. “Is something wrong?” you asked, and Billy swallowed thickly.

Slowly, his arms stretched outwards and he enveloped you, and you gasped. Billy wasn’t very affectionate with you, for reasons you weren’t quite sure of but knew probably stemmed from a bad childhood, and every bit of affection was welcome and surprising. Your arms flew around his neck quickly and you held him close, and Billy sighed as he nestled his face into your neck. "I love you," he whispers. "M'sorry I don't show it often enough, but please believe me that I love you."

"I love you too, Billy," you whispered. "It's okay, baby, everyone shows affection differently."

"But I want to show you affection the regular way," Billy said. "Hug you and kiss you, do everything I want, but I... I just can't. But believe me, I wish I could."

"I believe you," you whispered. "Maybe we can take baby steps... And this is a big first step."

"I love you so much," Billy whispered quickly, and you squeezed him tightly. "Thank you for not leaving me."

"I don't want to leave you," you told him. "I'd never want to leave you. We can work on this together, but please know I'm proud of you for hugging me."

"Thanks," Billy mumbled. "I just... When I was little, if I asked for a hug or a cuddle, my dad would hit me. I learned that wanting affection was bad, so I learned to never ask. But I guess I need to unlearn that."

"And I'll be here for all of that," you told him. You rubbed his back and stepped away for a moment, and you leaned back and kissed his soft lips for a moment. "I'll always be here."

[pollenallergie]

billy knight used to have terrible posture because of his raging insecurities and anxieties. however, billy knight now has terrible posture because your cat, dennis, seems to always want to be perched atop the flat of his shoulders whenever’s he’s stood upright. much like this:

dennis has needs, and those needs are to 1) be at the highest vantage point possible at all times while 2) maintaining constant contact with his favourite human, billy (you’re a second runner up). this peculiar and, unfortunately for billy, inconvenient position allows for both of dennis’s most pressing needs to be simultaneously met at all times.

luckily, billy has you to give him back and shoulder massages and to dote on him endlessly when the aches and the tension get to be too much for him. <3

[wheels-of-despair]

Let Me Take Care Of You Pairing: Billy Knight x You Summary: Billy isn't used to being taken care of, but you're going to make him get that way, whether he likes it or not. Contains: A cold, a stubborn boy getting the love and comfort he deserves, a childhood flashback that might make you cry. Word Count: 1.5k

Billy Knight was not used to being taken care of.

You'd been together for years, and he still stared at you in disbelief when you did things for him. He just couldn't believe that someone would voluntarily, without complaint or pay, take care of him. Especially when he was sick.

He'd come down with a cold. That's all it was. Just a cold. It was making him miserable, but Billy didn't complain. No, he preferred to suffer in silence, not letting on just how bad he felt, not wanting to seem like a burden to the only person who'd ever wanted him.

You noticed, and you were having none of it.

He'd come home yesterday looking pale. He'd hardly eaten any dinner. By the time you'd convinced him to stick a thermometer in his mouth, he knew the jig was up, but he was too tired to keep pretending he was alright. He let you put him to bed.

The next morning, you didn't even bother to wake him before calling in sick on his behalf. You'd seen and heard enough through the night. He wasn't going anywhere today.

You, however, had a few errands to run.

You came home bearing goods.

You'd run to the office to grab some things to work on at home for the week, then stopped by the supermarket for supplies.

You quietly unloaded the groceries on the kitchen counter, putting away the cold stuff and leaving the rest to be dealt with later. You packed all of the Billy Supplies in one bag and carried them into the bedroom, where he's staring at the ceiling in a daze.

He perks up when he sees you come in.

"What are you doing here?"

"I said I'd be back soon." You gesture to the sticky note you'd left on your pillow. Well, it was on your pillow. Now it's on the floor. You pick up the pink square that read "supply run, back soon, love you" and bring it to him.

"Good thing I left a note, right?" you joke, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him and placing the bag on the floor. He smiles and sticks the post-it to your jeans. Brat. You pick it off with a grin, crumpling it and tossing it into the grocery bag.

"Where did you go?"

"Ran by the office to warn them of your plague and graciously volunteered to stay quarantined for the rest of the week, then stopped by the store to grab a few things to ease your suffering."

"You didn't have to do that," he says softly.

"Yes I did."

"But--"

"We were running low on sick supplies anyway. I was so eager to put it behind us last spring when we both had it, I forgot to restock. It needed to be done."

Despite your rambling, he still looks embarrassed. You wish you knew how to get it through his thick skull that you wanted to take care of him. You liked taking care of him. Would you prefer it if he weren't sick? Of course. But you're going to be there, no matter what. Whether he likes it or not.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better."

You raise an eyebrow and wait for a real answer. He is clearly not better. He relents.

"Head hurts. Half my nose is stopped up. Throat hurts."

"Was that so hard?" you ask playfully. He shifts uncomfortably.

"I just don't want to be a bu--" You clamp a hand over his mouth. You've been through this so many times, it almost feels routine.

"Stop. You are not a burden." He turns on the sad puppy eyes, and you suddenly want to throttle everyone he's ever known for allowing him to feel this way.

"You are the love of my life, and I will do anything for you." He blinks away the tears welling in his eyes. You plant a quick peck on the back of your hand, still covering his mouth. Damn that sensible no-kissing-on-the-mouth-when-sick rule you'd agreed upon.

"Including, but not limited to," you continue, removing your hand from his mouth and reaching into the bag at your feet. "Bringing you a brand new box of tissues!" You hold the cardboard box up as if you're displaying a prize on a game show. He smiles, and you place it on his bedside table. "Juice!" You pick up and shake one of the six bottles you bought, put it on the table, and reach for the next item. "Generic over-the-counter cold medications!" You brandish a bottle of syrupy liquid and a box of pills, discard them, and pick up the final item. "And last but certainly not least, vapor rub! Can't believe I didn't think of this last time. My grandmother would be ashamed."

"What's that?"

"Vapor rub." He looks at you cluelessly. Of course he's never used vapor rub. You can't exactly picture his brother applying it for him.

"Take off your shirt, I'll show you." He doesn't move. "Trust me," you urge, pulling down the covers and grasping the hem of his shirt. He sits up and lets you peel it off of him.

He leans back onto his pillow and sniffs, watching curiously as you open the jar. The smell of the menthol wafts over and makes his nose twitch. You scoop out a glob with your finger and lean forward. He briefly wonders if you're going to stick it up his nose, but you stop at his chest and begin rubbing it on in slow circles.

Between the smell and the vision of fingers caressing his chest, Billy suddenly remembers his mother. She did this for him once. He must've been three or four. He remembers a fire roaring in the cottage, casting its light throughout the room and making everything orange. He must have been on the couch. His mother sat next to him holding a jar like this. He can't remember what she's saying, or what her voice sounds like, but he remembers feeling tired and warm and loved. She finishes rubbing the goo on him and wipes her hands on a tissue, then picks up a book to read to him. He remembers that she read him stories about animals and flowers and nature and love and good things in life. Because she was good too. She was so good to him. And then she was gone, stolen from him far too soon, and it seemed like she'd taken all the good things with her.

You notice his eyes tearing up again. "Strong stuff, isn't it?" He bites his lip and nods, sniffling.

"Hey, look at that. You just sniffled with both sides. It's working already." You smile warmly and reach for a tissue to wipe your fingers, just like his mother had.

"Are you hungry?" He shakes his head. "Thirsty?" He shakes his head again. "I'll let you slide for now, but I'm gonna pump you full of fluids before the day's over, okay?" He nods. "Do you want me to stick around, or leave you alone to sleep?" He reaches for your hand. You don't know what's going on in that head of his, but you suspect the faraway look in his eye isn't entirely cold-related.

"You know what used to make me feel better as a kid?" You wait a beat before continuing. "Being read to." He stares. "Do you want me to read to you?" He doesn't respond. "Or not, I could just bring the laptop in and put on a movie or something." You're already trying to talk yourself out of it. It was a dumb idea. He's not a child.

"Please." His voice is barely a whisper.

"You want me to read to you?" He nods once. "Any preference?" He swallows. "How about I bring back a couple and let you pick?" He squeezes your hand. "I'll be right back." You squeeze his hand back and kiss his warm forehead before getting up and walking out of the room. He begins breathing a little harder. Whether it's the menthol working its magic or the panic of being left alone right now, he doesn't know. But a few seconds later, you return and present him with three worn paperbacks. Books you've had since you were a child. All of them about animals.

He considers his options while you change back into pajamas and crawl into bed. He hands you his choice and you settle in next to him. He scoots down so that he can place his head in your lap, and your hand immediately comes to stroke his hair.

There are still good things in life. Animals, and flowers, and nature, and stories. And more importantly, good people to share them with. People who really do love you, no matter what.

As he closes his eyes and tries to focus on the sound of your soothing voice, Billy thinks... maybe he could get used to this.

[localemofreak]

Tell Your Baby, That I’m Your Baby.

(Billy Knight x Fem!Reader)

Based on the song:

I Bet On Losing Dogs - Mitski

——————————————————

‼️Warnings‼️: use of y/n, slight angst which turns to comfort, Billy have a breakdown, etc. (if I forgot anything please tell me!)

——————————————————

It had happened again.

Billy had another episode, and you weren't around when he had it.

You had been trying to take care of Billy, ever since his previous actions you have tried to be there for him but it's been pretty hard when since he was one to distance himself from what seemed like everyone except for his brother Jimmy.

Right now you we're searching the streets in a panic after coming back to an empty apartment and the shattered glass of a random cup in the middle of the apartment, knowing he definitely dropped it when he started having his little episode.

As well as the news playing on the tv, it probably being the reason it triggered the episode for Billy.

You looked everywhere you think he would be.

Finally, you got to the last place you could check- the small apartment Jimmy would hide him in.

You thought the first place he would go to was his brother since you weren't with him.

You managed to break through the door of the apartment, seeing it looking 'empty' but you knew it wasn't.

"Billy! Billy!! It's y/n!" You called out as you started desperately running around, searching random rooms.

Finally, you got to this one room and tried to swing it open, only seeing it was locked.

You could hear the small whimper of somebody inside the room, knowing it was Billy.

"Billy sweetheart.. it's y/n let me in please.." you whispered through the door as you tried to shake the doorknob.

You heard more whimpering and shuffling in the room before finally, Billy said something.

"Go away please.." he whimpered out as you could hear him hiding himself, probably curled up in the corner.

"Alright Billy, you left me no choice-" you said before finally you managed to kick a hole through the door, digging through it before finally crawling through.

You wiped off any debris from the door off of your outfit before your eyes glanced around, finally landing on Billy who was curled up on the bed in the corner of the room, his brown doe eyes watery and looking at you.

"There you are, I was looking all over for you. Come on let's head-" you started to stay as you took a step forward before getting cut off, Billy tossing his arms in front of him to block you.

"Don't come near me!- please.." he called out, a tear falling down his cheek as you stared at him, slightly in shock since he's never really yelled at you, or turned you away during one of his episodes.

"Billy, baby... I'm here to help you.." you whispered as you slowly started moving towards him, your hands up slightly as you crouched down to his level.

His hands slowly moved down as he stared at you, a soft scared look in his eyes.

"Tell me what happened... please?.." you whispered as he gave a small sniffle and violently rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, a thing he did whenever he felt upset or nervous about something.

"I-I don't know!- I don't know.. what happened..." Billy said as he rubbed his nose harshly once again, his body slightly shaking while he brought his gaze down.

You decided to gently and slowly take his hand in yours, hoping that would help him focus on telling you what happened

. "I-I.. I saw something.. on the telly- about a girl.. she was missing, and- and I-I... I guess, it made me remember-" he said before cutting himself off with a small whimper as you let out a small sigh and gave a sympathetic look.

"Baby.. it's okay you don't have to say anymore-" you whispered before he nodded and you just pulled him into your arms, causing him to cling onto you while sobbing into your shoulder.

"Did you take your meds today?.." you whispered and Billy hesitated for a second before lightly shaking his head, his face still against the crook of your neck.

"I-I forgot.. I'm sorry-" he muttered quietly before you cut him off with a small kiss on the side of his head.

"it's alright- don't be sorry.. just please, remember next time.. I don't want this happening again.." you whispered as he quickly nodded his head in response.

You both just sat there for a while, holding each other in each other's arms before finally you managed to get him up and bring him back to the apartment, deciding to just try and relax for the rest of the day with him.

[mypoisonedvine]

if you're up for it, just a lil christmas drabble with billy knight?

summary: your boyfriend has an unexpected reaction to visiting your family for christmas

word count: bit over 1k

warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, brief alcohol mention, talks about having kids

It took you a moment to notice that Billy had suddenly disappeared; the hustle and bustle of family, the twinkling lights, the table being set— it all distracted you that you weren’t even sure how long he’d been gone. 

You’d seen him just a while ago while the kids were opening their presents (your family had a tradition of letting little ones open one present on the night of Christmas Eve), so he couldn’t have gone too far… but knowing that he had a habit of wandering when he was upset or overwhelmed, your heart did race with worry for a second.

You popped your head out the front door for a second, wondering if you’d see him out there on the snowy street, rubbing his sweater-paw-hands together and breathing a cloud of condensated breath on them to fight the chill; no luck.  You made your way through the various family members here and there, trying not to step on any little ones running around or bump into any old folks moving at a snail’s pace; but he wasn’t in the kitchen, dining room, or hall.  The sounds of merriment faded as you moved upstairs— all the lights were off, too, so all you had to see by was the light from decorated houses outside leaking in— and it was just enough that you thought you heard a sniffle in one of the empty bedrooms, behind a cracked-open door.  You gingerly pushed it open, finding Billy inside, sitting on the bed and wiping his nose; it was hard to see without lights on, but when he lifted his head a bit you could see the streaks of tears reflecting the golden glow from the window. 

“Love, what’s wrong?” you whispered, dashing to sit by his side.  You reached out for him, but waited for him to nod before giving him a tight hug (he didn’t always like being touched when he got like this).  “Did somebody say something?  I told them if they gave you any trouble I’d—”

“No, no,” he managed to choke out as he shook his head, “they’ve all been… really nice…”

You wrinkled your eyebrows together and pet him on the head tenderly, making him soothe just a bit.  “Did you have a flashback?”

He shook his head again, shutting his eyes gently.  “No… s’not that…”

“It’s okay if you can’t tell me right now,” you offered, “I just wanna make it better—”

“No, m’not—” he mumbled, starting over.  “I’m okay.  I just… I told you I hate Christmas.”

Oh god, I’ve traumatised him by begging him to come this year, you assumed immediately.

“An’ I do— ‘cause it’s always been rubbish.  Ever since my mum died,” he added, voice breaking slightly.  “Even before it wasn’t great— nothing like this.  V’never had a Christmas like this.”

Your eyes watered as you reached up to wipe a tear from under his eye.

“I never thought I deserved a Christmas like this,” he finally admitted.

“Love,” you sighed, “you deserve all the good things in the world.”

Sniffling again, he leaned into you and laid his face on your shoulder.  You kept petting his hair, running your fingers through the loose waves, and he clung to you tightly.  “I can come next year, right?” he whispered.

Laughing softly, you lifted his head and contemplated his sweet, teary face before you gave him a quick kiss on the lips.  “You can come every year, love… as long as you’re still my boyfriend, of course,” you joked.

He hesitated for a second, and your heart jumped; that wasn’t going to be a challenge, was it?  “What if I’m your fiance?” he asked suddenly.

Your beaming smile couldn’t be helped— neither could the warmth in your cheeks.  “Oh, er— definitely.  That would be even better.”

He smiled back, kissing you again: slower, softer, sweeter.  It took you a second to come back to reality when he pulled away, you would’ve been perfectly content just kissing him in this dark, quiet room for a while, but someone would probably come looking for you both soon with dinner almost ready.  

“C’mon, I bet they’re waiting for us,” you mumbled, but he pulled you into one last hug before you led him back downstairs.  As you quietly re-entered the gathering, your dad greeted Billy with a pat on the back and asked if he wanted a beer with his dinner; you were about to interrupt with a reminder that you’d told them before about how your boyfriend doesn’t drink (or, rather, can’t because of his medication) but you were impressed to see Billy speak up first with a polite ‘no thanks, sir, but I’ll take a cuppa if your wife’s got a kettle going’.

He’d already been so sweet, complimenting your mom’s cuppa saying she knew how to make it just right, listening to grandpa’s old war stories like they were fascinating, even tolerating your aunt’s Bible thumping.  Seeing Billy’s reaction to it all made you see everything in a new way: you were so used to the annoying stuff— the loud kids and the grumpy relatives and the political arguments and that one cousin trying to convince everyone NFTs are the future— that you’d forgotten to cherish the little moments of pure joy.  Your family was far from perfect, as were the holidays together, but compared to what he was used to Billy thought it was like being inside a Christmas card… and he wasn’t wrong, now that you leaned back and took it all in.

“I can’t wait for next Christmas,” Billy told you first thing when you got in the car on Boxing Day, preparing to brave the snow and drive home.  

“Me either,” you smiled.

“And I can’t wait for our first Christmas with our family,” he added.  “I mean— I know your parents said I’m part of the family now, but y’know… the three of us.”

“Three?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Me, you, and the baby.”

He said it like it was so obvious; the baby, like you should already know about whatever baby he was talking about.  “Our baby?” you realised, face heating up despite the chill still in the car.

“Of course,” he grinned.  “Isn’t that what you want?”

“Y-yeah, I just— I wasn’t sure if you—”

“S’what I want, too,” he promised.  “Used to scare me more— ‘cause I thought it’d be like me an’ my dad.  But it won’t.  It’ll be nice, I think.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, feeling a little dazed as he talked about this so casually, “I think so, too.”

Starting the car, you reversed from the driveway and onto the street.  “Maybe we should have a lot of them,” he announced suddenly.  “Five or six, I mean.”

“Children?!” you choked, slamming the brakes halfway into the road.  

“Okay, maybe not that many!” he laughed.  “Just drive, we’ll talk about it when we get home.”

You bit your lip, having to be careful not to drive too fast to get home quickly; it was thrilling, and a little terrifying, but you were looking forward to that conversation.

[rehfan]

Billy knight request….reader x billy in new relationship. Billy is super protective and jealous. They go to their first party together billy gets nervous /jealous because of guy hitting on reader. He causes a scene then panics on their way home thinking he’s ruined their relationship. Reader is not mad at him she is very soft with billy she takes him home and shows him exactly how much he means to her fluffy sweet smut please ***billy definitely has a breeding kink****😊

A/N: My first Billy Knight request and I couldn’t be happier. I love this character so much. Thanks to you @harringtonfan4 for the suggestion - it gripped me by the throat and did not let go. I basically spent 7 hours straight writing this all in one go. Any typos or plot holes are all mine, unintentional, and you can go pick on someone else. Here we go!

Pairing: Billy Knight X Fem!reader; Billy Knight X AFAB!reader

Jealous!Billy Knight; Insecure!Billy Knight

Tags: fluffy, emotional hurt/comfort, jealousy, mental health issues, insecure Billy, minor physical altercation, minor mention of suicide, fluffy smut, smutty smut, blowjob, PIV unprotected sex (PLEASE DO NOT DO THAT - WRAP IT), unintentional edging, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, small instance of choking but not really.

Warnings: minor mention of suicide; small instance of choking but not really; Under 18? Move on, please. I did not write this for you.

Please do not repost this anywhere else. This is my work and mine alone.

Word Count: 7200+

Knight in Shining Armor

You knew that you were the first major relationship Billy had ever attempted besides having schoolboy crushes on girls, sneaking kisses and holding hands and such, but nothing ever meant anything. He was in his mid-20s and should have had plenty of girlfriends before you, but due to a childhood trauma, he was debilitated and emotionally injured and needed time to heal. At least, that’s how he put it to you when you met and started dating him.

You bumped into him in the frozen foods section, dropping your frozen potato wedges when you turned and saw him there holding the freezer door open for you. He hadn’t meant to startle you, of course and looked so painfully shy and fearful about scaring you that it broke your heart a little. It had been months since your last relationship and while you weren’t looking for something new, you had a good feeling about him and told him that he could make up startling you by buying you a coffee from the station at the front of the store. He was happy to do it and that’s when it all began.

He was tender and caring, thoughtful and kind, and didn’t seem to have the same agenda that all your other blokes had had - mainly getting into your knickers. He seemed amazed to just have your friendship. And as far as Billy was concerned, that’s exactly how he felt. He didn’t see the sense in lying to you about anything, but he was terrified that you’d reject him. According to his logic, it was better to tell you up front about his institutionalization and mental problems; that way, you could push him away before he had a chance to fall head over heels in love with you.

But you didn’t push him away. Especially after he explained about the support system he had in place: his few friends who were also his flat mates and his psychiatrist, his medication, and his dedication to being a proper man in the world - one that could hold down a job and pay bills. He was on a good road. The only part of his life that was incomplete was having someone to share his life with.

His big brown eyes looked soulfully into yours when he confessed all this. It was your third date and things had been going well. He was in charge of choosing the location for this one and he chose a picnic at the dog park. He didn’t own a dog (one of his flat mates was allergic) but he liked them and he had made a few friends among the dog owners that came there. He smiled secretively at you as he produced a resealable plastic sandwich bag of dog treats and jiggled them.

“My secret way of making canine friends,” he said, looking almost embarrassed at his cleverness.

You couldn’t help but laugh. The whole day was perfect, even after Billy’s confession about his history. You explained that you had an uncle that was bipolar and had to be sent away for a while when you were a child. You knew something was wrong with him, but you were too small to understand what. But when he came out, he was his old self again and better. You have valued psychiatry and psychology ever since and you were entirely supportive of Billy and deeply grateful for his honesty.

In your second month of dating Billy you were both headed to a party thrown by old friends of yours. You had met each other in uni and had stayed in touch and you wanted to introduce Billy to them all as you were fiercely proud of him and his strides toward living his own life as his own man.

“We don’t have to stay for long, if you don’t want,” you explained as you walked up the path to the door, “If things get too much, you tell me the word and we’ll dash.”

“What word?” Billy asked, rubbing his nose, “And what will we say as an excuse? Won’t they be suspicious? Won’t they think me rude?”

“Hardly,” you said, placing a reassuring arm around his. You planted your chin in his shoulder and looked up at him. “I’ll do the explaining. And the word will be something you pick. What word would you like to whisper to me if you feel overwhelmed?”

Billy looked at his surroundings for a minute, his eyes darting about him. “Um, how about ‘cardinal’?”

You giggled. “‘Cardinal’?” Your eyes found what his had: in one of the front windows was a decorative hanging made of stained glass and containing a red bird of that name. “Oh I see. ‘Cardinal’ it is then. Excellent choice.” You kissed him on the cheek and rang the bell.

Billy was overwhelmed almost instantly. This wasn’t the small gathering that he was expecting - only three or four friends from your uni days - this was a gathering of well over twenty people. The conversation was a cacophony in the place and people seemed to be everywhere, sitting on furniture, standing in small groups, and even sitting on the floor around the low coffee table. Everyone had a drink and Billy was tempted to drown his panic in a G&T, but he knew he couldn’t with his meds. When the hostess greeted him with a slightly drunken kiss on either of his cheeks and offered to take his coat, he gave it over mechanically, his brain still reeling from the sensory overload.

You took his hand and whispered, “You okay, love? You look spooked.”

“So far so good,” he said unconvincingly, but he squeezed your hand and gave you a tight smile. He was going to try his best for you. You were the miracle of his life and he wasn’t about to lose you over his own feeble insecurities screaming their little heads off.

They screamed even louder when they saw all the men in the room greet you warmly. Most of them had other females standing by who were introduced as girlfriends and partners or wives and that was all fine as far as Billy was concerned, but the few who weren’t attached to anyone? Billy felt his hackles rise protectively as they snaked their hands around your waist in hugs of greeting.

The powerful jealously that reared its ugly head inside of him hit him sideways with its strength. He wanted to rip their arms away from you, smash their smiling faces with his fist, then run from the place with you hauled over his shoulder caveman-style. He knew he couldn’t, that he mustn’t. It wasn’t right. They were old friends and you were allowed to have old friends. And when you looked back at him with that beautiful smile and squeezed his hand and introduced him as your boyfriend even though you were only on your second month of dating, it caused sunshine to bloom in his heart and he smiled back at you and shook their hands and was so damned proud to be yours.

As the evening wore on, Billy was never far from you, but soon relaxed enough to seat himself across the room from you as you talked with your friends, occasionally turning to him to include him in the conversation. Your female friends seemed to like him, like his shy nature. Your male friends discussed the latest footy match with him and Billy found himself contributing to the conversation almost effortlessly. He couldn’t wait to tell Dr. Hammond, his psychiatrist, all about this little social adventure. Billy was sure he would be pleased.

It wasn’t until Billy had gone to refresh your drink that Toby walked up to you while you stood in the empty corridor that ran the length of the home and provided access between the main rooms on the ground floor of the house. You had just pointed him the way toward the kitchen at the rear of the building and turned to go back to the sitting room at the front of the house when Toby’s voice came from behind you.

“Thought he’d never leave,” he said.

You sighed and turned slowly back to him. “And there it is: that low voice you have that you always thought was seductive enough to charm birds from trees. I was wondering when you were going to make your move,” you said.

Toby was an old flame. One you had doused with enough water to flood whole valleys in the Yorkshire Dales years back. Still, Toby tried. It was pathetic really.

“And what makes you think it never has?” he said. He had had too much alcohol. It was obvious.

“You’re drunk, Tobes,” you said, giving his chest a gentle shove, “Please just leave me alone, okay? Billy-“

“Billy is a ponce and a welcome mat,” he said. “Wherever did you find him anyway? At the pound? Those big brown puppy dog eyes of his worm his way into your little heart?” Here he put a finger on your chest and pressed the flesh softly.

“He’s a good man,” you said. “Better than you ever learned to be.”

“Still angry about that? It was ages ago! And I’ve mended my ways: I only date one woman at a time now. No more cheating.” Here he crossed his heart. “Promise.”

“Once a cheater, always a cheater,” you retorted and turned your head, looking over his shoulder at where Billy had disappeared. You shouldn’t have asked him for a mixed drink. He was too insecure to bring you anything but perfection in a glass and he was taking ages. A thought occurred to you just as Toby’s head was angling down toward yours: “Besides, I thought you and Belinda were an item. Whatever happened to her?”

“Oh you’ll love the irony in this,” he said laughing, “She cheated on me.” You couldn’t help but gasp and laugh. He nodded. “Yep. With her yoga-slash-pilates instructor, no less.” You laughed again, even harder. He went on: “Apparently strength, stamina, and flexibility were what she was really looking for.”

You put a shameful hand over your mouth as you continued to laugh at what must have been a rude awakening for this lothario. “Well,” you managed, recovering a little, “I’d say ‘poor you’, but you sort of deserve it, you bastard.”

He responded by wrapping you up in a hug. “You mean you don’t feel the least bit sorry for me?”

“I don’t,” said Billy.

The hug broke apart and the two of you stood there staring at Billy who was staring daggers at Toby.

“I don’t feel sorry for you at all,” said Billy again. He passed you your drink without even looking at you. “And I’ll tell you another thing, mate,” the word dripped with anger, “You had better stay away from my girlfriend or I swear to Christ on high-“

“Billy!” you interjected.

“- I’ll… I’ll…”

Toby regained some of his smugness. “Or you’ll what? Scold me to death?” He laughed.

Billy shoved him hard against the corridor wall. It shook the picture frames.

“Just-“ Billy’s nervous tic of rubbing his nose with his wrist came back viciously in that moment. He was so agitated that it frightened you. “J-just keep away.”

You grabbed Billy by the arm and turned him toward you. “Cardinal,” you said. There must have been a look in your eyes, because Billy just nodded and looked instantly ashamed. He glanced back at Toby who had pulled himself away from the wall and was straightening his blazer jacket.

“Fine man you have there, pet,” he said to you. “Don’t suppose he’s had his distemper shots?”

Billy didn’t think, he just swung. His left fist connected with the side of Toby’s head and Toby stumbled back and fell into an unoccupied overstuffed chair in the hallway. “Fuck off, you cunt,” Billy growled.

Others had caught sight of this and were now populating the open doorways that led to the corridor you three were standing in. You looked around apologetically while tugging at Billy’s sleeve. Your eyes came across your hostess. “Gillian, I’m so sorry. I expect we’re just a bit knackered. We’ll call it a night, okay?”

All your friends smiled understandingly at you and wished you both a good night, turning back to their previous conversations. Billy put his coat and hat on silently near the front door when Gillian whispered a quiet word to you: “Hang on to that one, love. No man in this building has had the guts to smack the shit out of Toby the way he deserves. Good on him for doing what they couldn’t.” She winked at you and walked back to her guests.

You were quietly proud of Billy all over again as you made your way home. Gill’s home and yours were only about a mile apart and it seemed silly to hop a bus when the winter night in London was mild and you were with Billy, defender of your honor.

Billy, on the other hand, was eating himself up with guilt over his behavior. Dr. Hammond would definitely not think that this was a successful social interaction. Billy’s hand went to his nose again and he idly added up when it would be safe to take his meds again; he felt as if the chemicals that kept his brain untangled were wearing off.

He kept up a walking pace with you and tried to meet your eyes, but he was fearful of reaching out to take your hand and didn’t want to say anything to you lest you turn on him in anger and leave him on the spot, alone and lonely again in the middle of London. In the dark. In the cold. On his own. Again.

So he hugged himself and waited for you to say that he was never to see you again. But as the streets passed and you didn’t say anything, he wondered when it was going to happen. Or should he just throw himself in front of a night bus?

Or should he argue his side? After all, the man had his hands all over you! What was he expected to do when you introduced him as your boyfriend to everyone there? Was he just supposed to watch you laughing and joking with him and having him hug you and snuggle up to you when he’s supposed to be your one and only? Or is that what you wanted? Did you want Toby and not him? Was he the man you were waiting for? Did you bring him to the party to show off in front of Toby just to make him jealous? What did you want? What did he need to do? How could he fix this so you liked him again?

You turned away and toward the door of your building. You were home already. The mile walk had disappeared.

Billy shuffled his feet and didn’t meet your eyes as you held the door open. “Coming in?”

Billy shook his head and viciously wiped his nose against his wrist.

“Billy?” you said, your voice was so soft he looked up. His eyes were brimming with unfallen tears. “I’m not angry, you know,” you said.

He blinked at this and two fat tears streamed down his cheeks and into his beard. He didn’t bother to wipe them. “You’re not?” he managed.

You let the door close behind you as you made your way to him. “No, my love,” you said. You raised a hand to his face and wiped a tear away with your thumb. “If anything, I’m glad. It’s about time someone took a poke at Toby for all his machismo. I’m glad it was you.” You smiled at him.

Disbelief painted his face. “You are?”

You had to laugh. “Of course! He was a bastard to me when we dated years ago at uni. Cheated with this one and that. Always put me in second - and sometimes third - place. He deserved what he got.”

“And all your friends?”

“Gillian whispered to me just before we left that she was happy you did it,” you said. “I’m pretty sure that at least three other women at that party and two of the guys were happy too. You acted perfectly - if only slightly criminally.”

“So…,” started Billy, only beginning to wrap his head around the whole situation, “You’re happy? With me? With what I did?”

“Yes,” you said, “and as a matter of fact, I’d like to give you a small reward for defending my honor, my “Knight” in shining armor.”

Billy smiled at this. “Like what?”

“Come with me, good sir knight.”

You led him up the two flights of stairs to the flat you shared with two other girls. They were flight attendants and were hardly ever home. But they paid their rent on time and you all got along when they were home, so the situation was ideal for you all. This was the week that they weren’t around - one scoring the famous NY-LON flight and the other was off on a three week placement out of Sydney, Australia. You had the whole place to yourself for the next week.

Your room was at the back with two windows and a queen sized bed that almost didn’t make it in the lift when you first moved in. Of course, you paid more in rent for the biggest of the three bedrooms, but it was totally worth it.

You led Billy in and turned on the light at one of the two bedside tables. It cast a soft glow on you both as you took Billy’s coat from him followed by his jumper and shirt beneath.

You were on him with a passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him close. Billy’s head reeled with the sensation of you dipping your tongue in his mouth. He didn’t know where to put his hands, so let them rest on your hips gingerly as if you were made of spun glass. His cock shifted in his pants and he felt himself blush.

You broke the kiss with a wet smack and, a bit breathless, whispered, “If you want me to stop any of this at any point, we use the same word, okay? Do you remember it?”

“‘Cardinal’,” he said.

“Good boy,” you said, arching a salacious eyebrow at him. He smiled back at you, amazed that you were in his arms and that he was in your bedroom. His cock couldn’t believe his luck either and made another twitching lurch.

Your right hand glided down to his left hand and held it up, inspecting the knuckles. They were a bit red, but the skin wasn’t broken. “Does it hurt?” you asked. He shook his head wordlessly, eyes big as you kissed the ridge of each of his fingers and then the knuckles themselves. You looked up at him: “My hero.”

Hero? He was your hero? Really? Billy’s heart swelled in his chest and he knew he was smiling stupidly at you, but he couldn’t help it. You were kissing him again then and his hands fell respectfully back to your hips. Your hands, however, were ranging all over his exposed skin: shoulders, arms, the back of his neck and along his hairline, smoothing into his chest hair, until finally trailing fingertips downward to his belt. Alarm ran through Billy as he felt his cock twitch again and grow hard.

The chinking of the metal belt clasp joined the sound of you kissing him and you moaned with want. He leaned his pelvis away from you, his breath stuttering and his hands stopping your movements.

“What’s the word, Billy? Do you want to say the word? The one that stops everything?” you asked.

He stared into your face for a moment, frozen. Did he want this to stop? Was he brave enough to continue? He needed more information. “What are you… planning?” he asked. “What do you want me to do… to you?”

You smiled softly. “I’m planning on pleasuring you. I’m planning that you’re going to come. That you’re going to have a brilliant orgasm and sleep soundlessly in my bed until morning. And I’m planning to make you breakfast in bed.

“And,” you continued, “I’m wanting you to do anything you want to me. Just ask first, okay?”

Billy nodded.

“So are we stopping? Are you using your word?” you asked.

Billy shook his head.

“Then let’s start again, only slower. Does that sound all right?” Billy nodded. “What do you want me to do to you?”

You watched him as he swallowed hard and his ears got pink. Jesus God, he was adorable. You were used to men just manhandling their way into your bed, seeking out their own pleasure with your body, never worrying that you might not be totally enjoying yourself. This was new territory for both of you, it seemed.

“Can we just kiss for a bit?” he said. He seemed almost painfully ashamed to ask.

You smiled. How could you not? He was the gentlest man you had ever been with. Your hand went to his face and you kissed him softly, almost reverently, quietly thanking a God you almost didn’t believe in for sending you this amazing man. As the kiss broke, your faces were inches apart and you took the time to really look at each other.

He was fascinated by your face. Your eyes especially. The shape of your nose. The curve of your ear. Even your eyebrows were perfect and he smoothed one with the tip of his first finger, tracing it down and over to your ear and watching with breathless amazement as you pressed your face into the palm of his hand and closed your eyes. “Love me, Billy,” you whispered.

“Yes,” he whispered back and kissed you on his own this time, one hand to your face, the other wrapping around to the small of your back, both of you moaning into the sensation.

You tried to move closer to him, but he kept his pelvis away from you. Your hands found his ass and pulled him gently toward you, encouraging him to not be ashamed or embarrassed. When his hard cock came into contact with you, he whined and broke the kiss, gasping for breath.

“Was that not all right?” you asked, fearful that you had spooked him.

“That- that was- um,” his hand went to his nose again. You took it away from his face gently with both of your hands and kissed his wrist. Then you took his face in one of your hands and kissed his nose.

“I’m sorry if I went too far,” you said. “But Billy, I know you must be hard. I can see that you are.” You both looked down at his trousers where a very obvious tenting was taking place. You met his eyes again. “I’m not scared if you’re not scared.”

If Billy was honest, he wasn’t scared so much as he was terrified. He wanted to do well with you. He wanted to please you so badly his skin itched with it.

“Why don’t we get your first orgasm out of the way and… that might help?” you suggested. “You know, help with your nerves? What do you think?”

“Oh… okay,” he said, a bit confused.

You stripped off your top and bra and dropped to your knees on the soft shag area rug and made quick work of his button and flies. Billy hardly had any time to react when you placed your mouth along his clothed length and exhaled warm air against his member. The wanton groan that exited his mouth was everything you ever wanted to hear. “You just use your word if you need to, my sweet boy. And remember: I want to give you this. You deserve a blowjob for all you’ve done tonight.”

Your fingertips caressed his length as you spoke to him. He gasped when you lowered his pants and his cock sprang free. He was gorgeous. A light brown thatch of hair from his belly button to his shaft called for your fingertips to card through it. You kissed and sucked at the line between abdomen and thigh, teasing sighs and gasps from him. Praise fell from your lips as you scattered kisses along his lower belly and upper thighs: “Such a good man to me, Billy. So kind and gentle. Always so good. You want me to suck you off, don’t you, darling? You’ve wanted me for a long time now. Whole weeks! And now you have me. And this is all for you. For being my brave knight in shining armor.”

You lifted his cock out of the way with one hand and dipped your head to take his balls in your mouth, one and then the other, sucking softly as you did. You placed the surface of your lips against his scrotum and hummmmmmmed against his skin in the lowest tone you could manage. Billy groaned and threw his head back. His cock leaked with precum instantly, the tip swollen practically cherry red. You pulled his foreskin back even more and held your tongue out to catch the drip, locking eyes with Billy as you did so.

Helpless. That was the only word for the expression on Billy’s face in that moment as the precum hit your tongue and you licked up against it, trying to catch it all. Salty musk met your senses and you grunted. “Want to take you in my mouth, Billy. May I? Can I do that to you?” Billy nodded. “No no, love. Use words. Tell me you want this.”

“I want… you to… please. Please. I can’t say… exactly. I can’t. But please. Yes. Please.”

“Good boy,” you said, “That’s my good boy. Here we go. You let me know when you’re close, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

Slowly, you took him in your mouth, the hot heaviness of his erection against your tongue, the scent of him deep and thick. You had to use one hand against him because he was just too thick and long for you to deep throat until you found your stride. You hadn’t done this for a while, but it wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. Some things remained the same like the sensitive frenulum under the head of his cock. You pulled off of him just long enough to press your lips there and hummmmmmm again, low and long and Billy’s head reeled at the sensation.

He watched as your mouth swallowed his length again and he could hardly believe he was standing there with his pants around his ankles and your mouth on his cock. Beautiful you, with your smile and laughing eyes. Lovely you, who was always tender toward him. Loyal you, who wasn’t angry with him for hitting your old friend - who wasn’t quite a friend after all.

Unbelievably, you were sucking his cock and enjoying it.

He placed a hand in your hair, not pushing precisely, but just holding you there and you raised your free hand to it, rubbing small encouraging circles into the back of his hand.

You pulled off him with a wet pop and stroked him. “Happy, baby?” you asked.

“God yes,” he replied, that same look of amazement on his face.

“You want more?” you asked, knowing full well what his answer was going to be. You just needed to hear him say it.

“Yes, p-please. More, love,” he said, desperation dripping from him.

You went back to work, your tongue circling his tip before swallowing him down once more with a moan. He tasted so good. Thick and long and right against your tongue, you could suck his cock into oblivion. His hand pressed against your head a bit more urgently, so you followed his lead, increasing your pace and taking just that bit much more into your mouth as you could.

Saliva coated your hand and dripped from your mouth onto your chest, but you didn't care. It was worth it all to hear Billy moaning above you. His breath stuttering in his chest was all you ever needed. He was surprisingly vocal too, his muttered words of praise finding your grateful ears.

“Fucking suck me so good, love. You are so goddamned beautiful. Don’t deserve you. So fucking good to me. Your mouth… God your mouth… I just… Ah!”

Here he stopped talking and the hand that was on the back of your head found your jaw and pulled you gently off of him. “Can’t let you… Can’t. I- I’m sorry.”

“You can’t let me what, Billy?” you said, a little hurt that he wouldn’t let you get him off. “I was all right.” You stroked his cock to keep him hard as you spoke, but Billy even put a stop to that by pushing your hand away.

“No, no,” he shook his head violently. “Can’t come in your mouth. Need to come in you… Just - in you.”

“Oh.”

“Please?” his eyes held such longing. He gripped his hard cock at the base and you could see he was edging himself down away from his own orgasm. “Please let me?”

You knew better. You really did. But you were on birth control and you knew he was clear because you both traded that information ages ago. And, more importantly, you wanted him. You wanted him right then and there, naked and gripping his own erection begging you to let him fuck you.

Lord preserve us, you were really going to do this.

“Come here,” you said. “And take off the rest of your clothes.” You did the same, stripping yourself of all layers until you stood naked before him. You held out your arms and he filled them instantly.

The kiss you shared tasted of both of you plus the traces of the taste of his cock still present in your mouth. Your hands found his ass and squeezed, his hard cock pressing into you causing him to groan.

“Sweet girl,” he whispered. “Want you so bad.”

“Come to bed then,” you said. You were so damn wet in that moment, it wasn’t funny. Just looking at the way he looked at you, all amazement and reverence, it was too much to take in. His eyes held the universe and all you could see in them was your own reflection. It left you breathless.

He came into your bed after you crawled in beneath the duvet first. His warm body buffeted yours and his kiss heated you up from within, the curl of desire dwelling low in your belly and building slowly with every lick of his tongue. You rolled together, him on top of you, your legs wrapping around his hips, his thick hardness between your legs, tip tickling your ass right near your entrance.

Billy shuddered with the sensation of being so close yet so far away. “C-can I? Please, sweet girl? Please, pretty? May I?” He reached down and positioned himself at your entrance.

“Oh,” you moaned. “Clit first please. Right here.” You guided his hand so that his cock was lying between your folds.

He rutted against you with a snap of his hips and you both cried out. Billy’s forehead was buried in the crook of your neck as he satisfied his need for contact along your wet valley, the veiny ridges of his shaft dancing along your clit and building you to your climax.

His head lifted as you came, cries pouring from your mouth, cries that he put there, emotions that he caused, all of that for him. He could barely believe it. He almost came from watching you.

Gently he brushed the hair from your forehead. “Are you all right?” he asked softly. He stilled when you did, but you could still tell that he was achingly hard. He would need his release soon. Fortunately, you still wanted more.

You kissed him fiercely, sucking on his lower lip before releasing him. “On your back, boy,” you commanded in a low growl. His brown eyes went wide and he obeyed immediately, taking you with him.

You sat up and dangled your breasts over his mouth. “Suck on them, you beautiful man. Sweet boy.” He took you in his mouth and suckled gently, eyes closed, lost in the moment. You braced one hand on the headboard, your other hand carded through his hair and caressed his face. He looked so content.

Billy still couldn’t believe what was happening. The whole situation seemed like a fever dream. The day he met you, he had gone home on cloud nine. That night he had dreamed of holding your hand and maybe even kissing you, but this? This was more than he ever dared hope. His hands smoothed up and down and up again over your back as he sucked on your nipple, eventually one wrapping around the opposite breast and the other snaking between your legs to rub your clit once more. He wasn’t entirely certain of the exact anatomy, but he knew when he found it based on your gasp. There he circled his fingertips and knuckles against the nubbin and watched you through the slits of his eyes as you craned your neck back and then forward again, your hips undulated against him again. You were pornography come to life. And he was doing this to you. Just him, no one else.

It was a miracle. You were a miracle.

He switched to the other breast now, nuzzling underneath it, experimenting with nipping, licking, and sucking at the tender skin, listening to your delighted giggle, eventually swallowing your nipple once more, flicking it with his tongue and eliciting the most delicious moans from you as a result. His hands had traded places too and the wonderful friction he was providing for you was intoxicating. He was running on pure instinct and you were too, your hips lost to a primal rhythm against his hand. You could feel things starting to build again and you urged Billy to keep on doing exactly what he was doing.

“Gonna come again, Billy,” you panted. “Just…Fuck! Keep going, baby. Almost….God! Shit!” You cried out again, your climax washing over you as you rode his hand. Come dripped from you and over his hand; you knew you were a mess down there, but you didn’t care. As you sat up against his cock, he hissed with the contact and subconsciously raised his hand to his mouth. There he tasted you for the first time and his dark eyes blew wide.

Billy sucked on his knuckle and closed his eyes, relishing your flavor. When he finally slowly opened his eyes, you pulled his fist away and kissed him, sealing the taste of yourself - above and below - in his mind forever.

Slowly, achingly, you lowered yourself against his cock, never breaking your kiss. His hand went down to guide himself along and inside you. You were so slick and wet, his cock tip slipped inside you with a smooth squeezing thump that was felt rather than heard. It felt so good you wanted to cry.

Relaxing against the pressure, you allowed your body to accommodate his girth slowly, a sweet burn giving way to a sense of fullness that left you wanting more, to run deeper inside of you. As you slowly fell against every inch of him, he watched in fascination as he disappeared inside of you, resisting the overwhelming urge to pump his hips up into you, bracing against the moment when you would allow it by planting his feet on the mattress, knees bent.

When you bottomed out, you both stilled, your breath filling the room. You felt so right, smiling down at Billy, his adoring eyes on you, his hands on your breasts, slowly kneading the tissue, warm and comforting and…right. This is how it should be and you could stand a lifetime more of this.

“Welcome home, love,” you cooed. “Feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“You’re a miracle,” he said. “My miracle.”

Your heart melted. Tears welled up in your eyes and your hands found his. As you bent to kiss him, he slipped partly out of you and you rocked back against him, trailing your mouth against his, capturing his lip or his tongue here and there as you ground against him, feeling the pressure of him inside of you. Changing the angle, you sat up again and rolled your hips, your whole body undulating, slipping against his length and just hitting that sweet spongy spot inside you that made you gasp and crave more and more and more…

Billy watched you move, his hands slipping to your hips, his legs lifting against you, pressing up into you in the rhythm you set. It was sweet, slow, and sensual, the way love making was supposed to be in movies and books. You were truly unbelievable and he was really here, really seeing, hearing, and touching you. He was the cause of all the sweat on your body, that fine sheen that caused your skin to glow in the low lamplight. He was the cause of your low moans, your two previous orgasms - not to mention the third one that was building in you now. Riding his cock, fulfilling his dreams.

His own climax was building now, not that it hadn’t been over and over again. The image of you on your knees in front of him was seared into his eyelids forever. The sensation of your hot mouth on the tip of his cock was a memory to savor for a lifetime. You coming all over his hands and the heady salty taste of you would linger on his tongue until the day he died. But this? The wanton image of you riding his cock, head knocked back, hands gripping his knees behind you, abandoned to the sensation coursing through you… this was magic. This he would want to re-create over and over again, trying to replicate it, improve on it, and ultimately replace this memory with others, multiplying and multiplying over and over until the end of time.

He imagined busting his nut inside you, spraying your walls down with his spunk, fucking you like he was trying to breed you - and that’s when he felt his balls tighten. Chasing the sensation, he confessed: “Want to cover you in my come. Want to fuck you into oblivion. Want to mate with you and fill you with my babies. Shit!”

Your eyes flew wide at this. “You want to fuck me like a stud stallion, my brilliant boy? Like I’m a brood mare? Take me from behind? You want to rail into me, huh?”

An absolutely feral look came across Billy’s face at this. “You’d let me?”

“I’d beg you to,” you smiled, slipping off of him and turning around. He was on his knees behind you in seconds, pushing himself back into you, one hand on your hip, the other on your shoulder.

He leaned in close when you moaned and arched against him. He whispered, “I’m going to fuck you right through this mattress, beautiful girl.”

You turned toward him and nipped at his lips, one hand passing behind his head into his hair. “Yes please, sir knight. Please take me and breed me and spend yourself inside me.” He turned his head so his ear was at your mouth. “Need it, Billy. Need you,” you whined. “Make me yours.”

Billy didn’t need more encouragement than that. He settled back and started slowly, carefully, but soon gave in to his baser desires urged on by your lascivious whining, keening, and moaning. He fucked you hard, slamming against your cervix and, after a small positioning change of angle, that delicious sweet spot inside you. When he saw you reach for your clit, he brushed your hand aside. If you were going to come again, it was going be because of him. Only him.

You were his. His to fuck and to breed and he was lost to the thought of it all. His balls tightened again, all the edging he had been doing had been driving him mad, but now he got to just ride you into it. Slamming into you over and over and over had you oversensitive in moments. His small tight circles over your clit had you seeing stars. But his words left you helpless.

“Mine? You’re really all mine? Mine to fuck? And kiss? And love? You want this? All of this? Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want me.”

“Want you, Billy. All of you. Fuck me, love. Fuck me straight through this mattress. Need you, Billy. My hero. My knight. Please.”

His free hand was on your throat, pulling you upward ever so slightly, your back arching. his hips snapping up inside you. His breath was in your ear, stuttering and whining as he came hard inside you. “Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Over and over he told you what you were to him, each word stamped into you with the thrust of his hips. Your orgasm followed shortly afterward, burning from the insides where his cock was smacking your sweet center and you felt yourself come all over it, thickly flowing inside you and dribbling down your thighs.

You cried out and sobbed, coming down hard into the soft duvet, feeling his hands smooth down your sides and over your back as he sat up and drew himself out of you. You could hear him panting as he pulled you up at your waist and flipped you back to the head of the bed, resting your head on one of the pillows. He lay beside and behind you, spooning you from behind, his arms under your head, the other around your waist, hand on your belly.

He was terrified again. Scared about what he had said to you in the passion of the moment. He wondered if you wanted him to leave. He waited.

You leaned back into him, smiling. “That was amazing, Billy.” Turning your head, you reached back for him and he brought his face to yours. You kissed him lightly. “You are amazing.” You took his lips and felt his tongue tentative against yours as he lost himself in the kiss. Your hand found the back of his head, encouraging him deeper, moaning when he took the hint. “Make love to me again in the morning?” you asked.

Billy was breathless again. “Y-you don’t want me to go?” he asked.

Huffing a laugh, you had to ask: “Now why would I want to kick you out of this bed?”

“Dunno… I just thought… that now that we finished…”

You turned your whole body to face him. “Pay attention to what I’m about to tell you and realize that it is the unvarnished truth, okay?” Billy nodded, eyes wide. “Billy Knight, I adore you. And that was the most amazing sex I’ve ever had in my life. I am not kicking you out. In fact, the only reason I would ever kick you out of bed would be to fuck you on the floor. Understand me?”

Billy’s smile grew slowly but soon bloomed into a full ear-to-ear grin. He giggled. “You really are mine? Even only after two month’s worth of dates?”

“Hey,” you retorted, “I know a good thing when I see it.” Lightly you kissed him on the nose. “Now get some sleep, pretty boy. I have breakfast to cook for you in the morning.”

[emsgoodthinkin]

he’s so like hybrid puppy; i wanna see him embarrassingly rut his pillow but like

I couldn’t imagine seeing him cry as a kid with his eyes, his roles with his sad ass EYES like..you can’t help but not WANT to be mommy to him

Reblogs appreciated:>

[usedtobecooler]

hello my loves!! this is my idea of a christmas extravaganza! my plan here is to post between 7 and 10 smutty one shots throughout the month of december as a thank you to all my lovely followers who have been nothing short of incredible this year!

details;

my posting will be sporadic as and when i have time throughout december, including after christmas. all one shots will be requests sent by accounts and anons who send ones in and will typically be between 600-1.5k words! i, obviously, will not be able to fulfill all requests so i will hand pick my favourites to write.

the plan is to make your smutty requests as depraved as possible (though still legal + not completely gross), anything your heart desires whether i've written anything similar before or not is on the table apart from;

pedophilia (that is a given!!!)

scat

vore

vomit

the characters i currently write for are;

eddie munson

steve harrington

billy hargrove

billy knight

ralph penbury

i'm open to writing threesomes/orgies also! your requests can be x fem!reader or character x character.

requests are already open!

please make sure you are courteous, respectful and kind with your requests - and remember that just because you've sent one in it doesn't confirm that i'll write it. if i choose your request, you'll know once i post it.

for requests try to make them as short as possible for creativity purposes but remember to add the character you would like, the sexual scenario and any little details you'd like (i.e - reader isn't girly so no skirts/dresses, plus size!reader, alternative!reader, au or canon, etc.)

once again i'd just like to thank you all so much for the overwhelming support and love i've received this year - it's honestly been crazy and i'm blown away by how many people i've reached with my work! i wish you all a happy, healthy and safe christmas and new year!!

*if you plan on participating please feel free to give this post a reblog so we can boost it!

[babybluebex]

𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 (𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬) 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

༻ ralph penbury (timewasters, 2017)

wizard: at ralph’s birthday party, you feel the need to apologize for what you’ve done. ralph, meanwhile, has a question to ask you. (fluff)

making waves: before a party, you do ralph's hair. (fluff)

marking ralph's cheeks with lipstick (fluff)

punishing ralphie for misbehaving (smut)

coked up ralphie fucks your ass (smut)

༻ jamie sampson (kin, 2017)

jamie tells you about harry (angst)

༻ koner (game of thrones, 2017)

only you series masterlist (koner x fem!reader): your secret relationship with a winterfell guard is threatened when your father marries you off to another man, and you do everything you can to stay with him and keep your love strong. (retired)

༻ peter grunauer (overlord, 2018)

reuniting after peter goes to war (angst)

sweet awkward reunion sex (smut)

༻ enjolras (bbc les miserables, 2018)

don't call it love: your latin tutor is one of those revolutionaries that your father despises and, after he invites you to a citizen’s meeting, his true intentions are revealed.(angst)

༻ prince paul (catherine the great, 2019)

out of the dark: marrying the prince of russia would be dream if he wasn’t such a dick, but a late night conversation leads to a mutual understanding. (smut)

paul yells at you (angst)

paul punishes you for flirting with someone else (smut)

༻ tom grant (make up, 2019)

5 minutes in heaven: your boyfriend finds an empty closet at work, and he convinces you to play a game of 7 (or 5) minutes in heaven. (smut)

stupid for you: you and tom get into a fight and, after he says something especially nasty to you, he makes it up to you in the best way. (smut)

boyfriend!tom headcanons (fluff)

teaching tom how to go down on you (smut)

tom convinces you to try anal (smut)

tom takes care of you when you're sick (fluff)

making you smile after a hard day (fluff)

cuddling with tom (fluff)

༻ pub!charlie (best move along, 2019)

pub!charlie headcanons(fluff)

nsfw pub!charlie headcanons(smut)

༻ billy knight (cb strike, 2020)

breeding kink (smut)

handjobs (smut)

camilla (fluff)

༻ eric (a quiet place: day one, 2024)

a medium place: your husband, eric, spends too much time at the office, and he assures you that you’re a priority in his life. (smut)

[pollenallergie]

just gonna leave this here…

[wheels-of-despair]

Billy Knight A-Z

A- Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they like to show affection?)

Billy speaks all the love languages, but he specializes in physical touch and quality time. Sometimes he just needs to touch you to recharge his battery. He loves being around you, even if you're not doing anything specific. And he's not great at vocalizing himself, but you make a point to tell him how much you appreciate every little thing about him. Just because you love watching him glow.

B- Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's your other half. You don't know how to function without each other at this point.

C- Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How do they like to cuddle?)

He was hesitant at first, but since you broke through that touch-starved barrier and convinced him you wanted to be close to him, he feeds on it. Even if it's just a graze or a shoulder squeeze as you walk by, he feels it in his soul, and he loves it.

D- Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they with cooking, cleaning, etc?)

Billy is currently living a life of domestic bliss, and it's the happiest he's ever been. He loves being home. He loves folding laundry, and washing dishes, and cooking with you. If the two of you could stay home together forever, you'd both jump at the chance.

E- Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Yeah, that's not happening. Next.

F- Fiancé (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Billy doesn't want to get married or have kids, because he doesn't want to pass on the Knight name or genes. He knows he's yours, and you're his, and he's fine with things staying that way.

G- Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally.)

Extremely. After the violence of his early life, he's determined to be different. He's gentle, and kind, and thoughtful. Maybe too thoughtful. Baby boy overanalyzes everything.

H- Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they like it? What are their hugs like?)

They're his favorite things in the world. He went over a decade without being hugged before you found each other, and now he can't exist without them. He wants to squeeze you so bad, but he holds back because he's scared he'll hurt you. You do not share this concern, and regularly wrap your arms around him like a python. He loves it.

I- I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It took him a while. You said it first, and it scared the shit out of him. Nobody had ever said that to him but his mum, and he didn't know what to think. Eventually, you convinced him that your feelings were real, and you weren't going anywhere. When he finally said it back, you both cried. You haven't gone more than 12 hours without saying it to each other since.

J- Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He's not, but you're familiar with jealous boys, so you make a point to avoid anything that could set him off. Not because he'll lash out, but because he'll internalize and convince himself that you deserve better.

K- Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Soft and sweet... until they're not. ;) He's taller, so he likes to kiss your forehead. And your mouth. And your neck. Wherever you'll let him. He'll also take any kiss you want to give him. One time, you took his face in your hands and peppered every inch of it with kisses. He blushed so hard, you thought his head might explode. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for (to?) him.

L- Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

Awkward. He hasn't spent much time around them, so he doesn't really know how to interact. But since he didn't have much of a childhood, he loves to watch them. He thinks they're fascinating.

M- Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Billy is at his snuggliest in the morning. The King of 5 More Minutes. He doesn't like getting out of bed, and usually has to be bribed with breakfast. Definitely spends his first few minutes up stumbling around like a zombie.

N- Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He's not a huge fan of the dark, but he likes the calm and quiet that comes with night. Everything seems to move a little slower. He likes to watch TV with you, or read on opposite ends of the couch. Anything where you just get to be together.

O- Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or do they open up slowly?)

You spent years cobbling together the details of his childhood from the little bits and pieces he'd tell you. It's painful. It's over. He doesn't like to talk about it. And that's okay.

P- Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He gets frustrated with himself, mostly. He's been told he's stupid so many times that it's ingrained in him, and he hates the feeling. If it takes him more than two tries to get something right, he feels it, and that makes him angry. Luckily, he has someone with the patience of a saint (when it comes to him, anyway) to help him through it.

Q- Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they mention every little detail in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

He has a very good memory, but he still writes the important things down, because he's afraid his mind will play tricks on him.

R- Remember (What is their favorite moment of your relationship?)

The first time you took him to the beach. He'd never been there before, and was afraid of everything, but you held his hand and explained everything, from how to walk in the sand to how to roast the perfect marshmallow on the tiny fire you helped him build.

S- Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's a little insecure. (Some would say paranoid.) When he first moved in, you were afraid that he'd think you were crazy for your make-sure-everything's-locked run-through, but you couldn't sleep without it. You tried to hide it for a while with an "I'm going to get a drink of water" excuse, but soon realized that he was waiting for you to fall asleep so he could go do his own lock check. You both get a lot more sleep now that you've synced your routines.

T- Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

So hard. You normally have a very laid-back relationship, but he still puts pressure on himself to make every occasion perfect.

U- Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has terrible self-esteem. You put so much effort into building him up, because he's wonderful and you wouldn't trade him for the world, but he still doesn't quite believe he deserves to be loved. And every time he sees his brother, it's back to square one.

V- Vanity (How concerned are they with their appearance?)

Not at all. He likes to be clean and comfortable. End of list.

W- Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes, and you feel the same.

X- Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

Billy loves to read, but he didn't realize it until he was in his 20s. He had some catching up to do, but you were with him every step of the way, and now he's a total bookworm.

Y- Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn't like loud noises, especially raised voices.

Z- Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Billy Knight is the cuddliest sleeper that ever slept.

More Billy here!

[keeponquinning]

ummm heyyyyy i heard from a lil birdie that you’re down for doing Billy Knight ai audios… color me ecstatic, i love that timid lil goober with my whole soul. on that note, would you maybe be down for doing an ai audio of Billy sweetly greeting the reader (or ig, listener, in this case lol) after she gets home from a long day at work??? like maximum fluff?? no particular reason for this request… definitely not because i had a shit time at work this week and wish that i had a Billy Knight of my own to come home to…

p.s. before i stumbled across your blog i didn’t even know that i was into ai audios of my favorite characters and now i’m obsessed with them so… thank you so much for your contribution to my ongoing obsession with the JQ cinematic universe. love you long time <3

This is so sweet and you're so welcome?? I've been loving the AI audios, another form of story telling?? With voices?? Sign me uppp. Okay, so I'm not sure it's like... 100% sounding like him, but this is the best i can do! Hope this is what you wanted!