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#billy taylor x reader
ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months
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Hold Me Steady
Pairing: Billy Taylor (The Halcyon) x f!reader Warnings: Dry humping. Word count: ~1.3k
Summary: Billy has a close encounter with one of the hotel's maids after agreeing to help her decorate the employee sitting space for Christmas.
Author's note: Day one of the Smuffmas prompts - "hand holding and dry humping". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
She struggles down the stairs into the employee sitting room, the beaten up, old cardboard box she carries hindering her view, meaning she has to pick her way carefully downwards, one step at a time.
Halfway down, a large set of hands grip the box from underneath, relieving her of her burden, and she’s met with the wide eyed curious stare of bellboy, Billy Taylor.
“I’ll take that for you,” he says, giving her one of his trademark tight lipped smiles, before walking it the rest of the way down for her.
“Thanks, Billy,” she tells him gratefully, sighing with relief. “You on break?”
“Yeah, got fifteen minutes left,” he responds, setting the box down next to a pile of stacked band equipment. “What’s in here then?”
“The foyer’s being decorated for Christmas,” she tells him, coming to stand beside him. “This stuff’s not good enough to go out, apparently. Can you believe Mr. Garland wants me to throw it away?!”
Billy crouches, tugging open the box, raising his eyebrows as he pulls out a length of threadbare silver tinsel. “I can, actually.”
She playfully swats him on the shoulder, taking the tinsel from him and weaving it through the iron bannister of the stairs. “Thought we could decorate the sitting room with it. Looks more festive already, don’t you think?”
Billy chuckles. “If it makes you ‘appy, then why not? Want some help?”
She smiles, feeling her skin heat up as he looks up at her from where he’s kneeling. “You’re on break, I can’t ask you to do that.”
“It’s not work if I actually want to do it,” he says with a shrug.
They grin at each other, and he continues to rummage through the box, pulling out cracked baubles and torn paper stars, as she surveys the small under the stairs space that the staff have to relax in.
“It’s weird to think I won’t be here next Christmas,” Billy muses, as he hands her decorations out of the box.
She looks away, focusing on running the colourful streamers through her fingers, doing her best to ignore the twinge of sadness that plucks painfully at her heartstrings. “Oh, yeah, you’ll be drafted, won’t you? I expect you’ll miss your mum’s figgy pudding.”
“I’d sooner have trench foot than eat mum’s figgy pudding, ‘orrible stuff.”
They laugh, and she allows herself a brief moment to admire the way Billy’s cheeks dimple and his eyes sparkle when he’s happy, before returning her focus to the decorations.
Within five minutes, the old piano in the corner is decked out in ragged paper streamers, the staircase’s iron bannister is woven with tinsel that’s seen better days, and a fruit bowl in the centre of the table contains the battered remains of tree ornaments of varying shapes and colours - a fitting centerpiece for the dowdy little space.
She steps back, admiring their work, eyeing the empty alcove above the brown leather sofa that’s tucked away against the back wall.
“Would be nice if we could hang this last piece of tinsel up there,” she muses, “not sure how we’d reach though.”
Billy steps behind her, looking with keen interest at the space she’s referring to. “I think there’s a step ladder in the storage room, wait here.”
He disappears out the back and a few moments later returns with a rickety wooden folding step ladder. It wobbles precariously as he unfolds it, setting it down near the sofa.
She draws in a nervous breath, brow furrowing as she looks at it. “Are you sure that’s safe?”
He presses his lips into a tight line, tugging at the hem of his uniform jacket. “Er…probably best if you go up, less chance of you breaking it. I can hold it steady.”
She hesitates for a few seconds, looking at it with uncertainty.
The final piece of tinsel above the alcove really would look nice.
“Okay, but promise you won’t let me fall?”
“Cross my heart,” he says, signing a cross over the left side of his chest.
She giggles, stepping forward and begins to climb up the ladder. It wobbles as she moves, making her breath hitch, until she feels Billy grab either side of it, holding it still. She climbs the rest of the way, pinning the last of the tinsel to the wall, allowing it to bow slightly in the middle.
It’s not until her hands are free that she realises the view that Billy must have, and brushes a palm over her skirt, making sure her backside is covered. She sees Billy turn scarlet in her peripheral vision, averting his gaze, and her heart flutters at the sight.
“Here, look, we missed something,” she hears Billy say, as she slowly starts to climb back down. She turns slightly, seeing him holding up mistletoe - a dried, long dead bunch of it, tied together with twine.
Butterflies flutter in her stomach at the sight. “That’s mistletoe, Billy…” She breathes quietly.
“Yeah…” he replies, chest heaving as he stares up at her.
A moment of silence passes between them as they gaze into each other’s eyes, until she leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek.
Billy gasps, turning pink all the way to his ears, quickly stepping back, and she squeals, toppling forward as the ladder wobbles beneath her.
He is quick to drop the mistletoe, grasping her hands, allowing her weight to push him back into a seated position on the sofa, to prevent her from falling.
They both breathe heavily as she straddles his lap, their hands still clasped together, staring at each other with wide eyes.
“You saved me,” she whispers, “but you dropped the mistletoe.”
“You…you can still kiss me…if you’d like to?” He says hopefully.
She lets go of his hand, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. It’s soft at first, until his arm moves to wrap itself around her waist, pressing her close to him.
The kiss deepens, Billy groaning in approval as her tongue slips against his, their combined breaths hot and heavy against each other. She can feel his rapidly growing hardness through his trousers and grinds herself against it, as his hand slips beneath her skirt, the press of his fingertips feather light against the hem of her knickers through her tights.
There is nothing but the sound of the shared sticky click of their saliva as their mouths move together, and the creak of the leather sofa cushions as their hips push wantonly against each other. Desire sizzles in her blood, causing her core to throb with every press of his clothed length against her.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs leading down to the sitting room causes her to scramble from his lap, quickly smoothing down her maid’s uniform.
“Billy?” Calls out the voice of Feldman as he descends.
“Just on break, sir,” Billy calls back, standing and stealthily attempting to adjust himself.
“That ended ten minutes ago,” the older man says exasperatedly. “Come on, there are guests checking in upstairs with luggage that needs bringing to their rooms.”
Billy’s eyes dart around in panic, his cheeks flushing. “Sorry, sir, lost track of the time. Can I quickly go to the toilet first?”
Feldman sighs. “Make it quick.”
Billy nods, shooting her an apologetic look before walking quickly away.
She puts a hand over her mouth, stifling an embarrassed giggle, knowing exactly what he intends to do.
“What have you two been doing down here then?” Feldman asks her, eyeing her suspiciously.
She clears her throat, smoothing her hands over her uniform once more, hoping her flustered appearance doesn’t give too much away. “Putting up decorations, Mr. Feldman. Looks great, doesn’t it?” She asks with a smile.
His eyes narrow, distaste apparent on his face as his eyes sweep the room, before looking back at her. “Yes, if you say so.”
She stoops, picking the mistletoe up off the floor and tucking it away in her apron pocket. She has a spring in her step as goes back upstairs.
That will definitely come in handy later.
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thought--bubble · 6 months
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assortedseaglass · 4 months
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🌟Christingle | Yuletide🌟
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Billy Taylor x Reader
Summary: Billy gets flustered when you help with make Christmas decorations for the Halcyon.
Content: Drabble, Fluff
Yuletide Masterlist
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Not for the first time that day, Billy Taylor swore under his breath.
“Sodding oranges,”
It seemed a waste to Billy; George getting all these oranges just so the hotel could use them as decoration. It was a waste too, that his afternoon was spent cutting them into slices while the other bell boys were down the pub. But Christmas was the Halcyon’s busiest period and his mother needed him to help wherever he could.
He hissed suddenly, sucking his thumb between his lips. “Bloody hell,”
A small giggle came from the kitchen door and Billy stood up at once, always ready to be of service.
“Everything alright?” Silhouetted by the corridor’s harsh light, you stood watching Billy, a friendly smile on your face. The white apron of your maids’ uniform was bunched between your hands, holding something in great quantities that you didn’t have enough hands for.
Billy rubbed the back of his neck. Ever since you’d started at the Halcyon, you’d made Billy nervous. With your bright smiles, shared glances during Skinner’s inspections and gentle demeanour, Billy couldn’t help but be enamoured by you.
“Yeah, oh yeah, fine.” He nodded and sat back down, pulling the front of his jacket straight and trying not to fluster as you pulled a wooden stool up to his workstation.
He wasn’t a complete stranger to girls. He’d danced with a few occasionally, and attempted to flirt at the pub, but as far as everyday interactions went, Billy’s experience was almost nil. Pretty young women came to the Halcyon all the time, under the watchful eyes of their mothers and husbands. But they either looked down on him, as one of “the staff”, or he was admonished by Garland or his mother as he watched a skirted bottom shimmy away for just a moment too long.
When you’d arrived, he was excited and terrified in equal measure. A pretty girl to talk to who wouldn’t pretend he was invisible and, even better, to work alongside in close quarters. A pretty girl who, most likely, already had a young man and wouldn’t think twice about daft, green, forgetful Billy Taylor.
With a clatter, you emptied the contents of your bunched apron onto the table. Jars and jars of cloves.
“For the Christingles,” you said, answering his glance at them. “Forgot to take a basket to the pantry.” You leant over him, the skin of your wrist brushing his, and took a few oranges from his pile. Billy flushed pink and glanced back at his work slicing the fruit. You didn’t notice. “It’s a waste, isn’t it?”
Billy looked up at you, smiling. “You’re telling me! I’d never even tried an orange until a year ago and here we are cutting them up for decorations.” Billy said, watching as you began adorning your orange with cloves. When you were done, you tied a red ribbon around it’s centre and curled the ends with the blade of a paring knife. You set it down next to you and took another orange in hand. Billy watched as, instead of decorating it, you began peeling it and placed a segment in your mouth.
Through your mouthful you asked, “What have they got you making then, Billy?”
“Garlands for staff kitchen. Not even for the guests. Bloody hell!” He dropped the knife and orange and sucked his thumb.
In an instant, you took his hand in yours. “D’you cut yerself?” Your mouth was still full of orange segments.
“Nah, no,” Billy coughed. “It’s the juice. I’ve a cut on my thumb and the juice keeps irritating it.”
“Over here,” you stood up, not letting go of his hand, and pulled him over to the sink. Running the faucet, you checked its temperature, “not too hot, not too cold,” and placed his hand underneath it.
Billy sighed in relief as the acidic sting dissipated.
“Tell you what, Billy,” you began patting his hand dry. “Why don’t you do the Christingles, and I’ll do the garland? The cloves won’t irritate your hands then.”
Billy was about to voice his agreement when you lifted his hand to your mouth and kissed his thumb. “All better!”
“Blimey.” He stood stock still as you walked back to the table and swapped his tray of orange slices for your jar of cloves. Coughing awkwardly and once more straightening his uniform, Billy made his way to sit beside you, a little closer than last time.
He took up the cloves and began piercing the skin of the orange. As he did, the sweet oil of the fruit filled the air. You inhaled deeply beside him.
“I wish they were cheaper,” you said with a smile. “I’d eat them everyday if I could.” You popped another segment into your mouth and Billy chuckled.
“You better hurry up and finish eating before cook catches you.”
“He won’t miss one orange.”
“No,” Billy finished another Christingle. “I’ll leave the ribbons to you. But I worry you won’t be able to stop yourself.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” you nudged him playfully. “I’ve already stashed one in my coat for later. Open up.”
“You what?”
“Open up!” You were holding an orange segment before his mouth, waiting expectantly for him to do as you asked. Hot nervousness prickled the back of his neck and in between his legs. Tentatively, he opened his mouth and the sweet, acidic taste of the lemon set his taste buds ablaze.
“Thanks,” he swallowed hard. “Can feed myself though.”
You laughed and peeled off another segment, popping it in your own mouth. “I know,” you blushed a little. “Just thought you wouldn’t get the juice in your cut again, that’s all.”
“Oh right,” Billy laughed that time, a little unsure of himself. “Thanks.”
“S’alright.”
An uncomfortable sort of silence fell between the two of you as you worked. You finished your orange and got back to slicing the others ready for drying. Billy worked through a jar of cloves and onto the next as he prepared the fragrant Christingles.
“Sorry if that was inappropr-”
“What are you doing Christmas Ev-”
You spoke at the same time. “You first,” said Billy.
You shifted in your chair and blushed again. A glimmer of pride shone in Billy’s chest.
“I’m sorry if that was inappropriate, Billy. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, no,” Billy hurried to reassure you. In truth, it was both inappropriate and uncomfortable, but Billy found he didn’t mind at all. “It was helpful.”
You nodded with a small smile and cut another slice of orange. “And you Billy, what were you saying?”
“Oh, erm. Just, just what are you doing on Christmas Eve? Family plans..” his question trailed off awkwardly. Hopefully.  
“Nothing really, probably just help mum get the veg rea-”
“DoyouwanttogotothecarolserviceatSaintPaul’swithme?” It came out as one, wild word. Billy took a deep breath and readied himself to ask again when he was interrupted.
“Yes.”
He blinked in shock. “You what?”
“Yeah, I’ll go with you.”
“Oh, right, ok,” Billy began picking up and putting down various things on the table. Oranges, ribbon, clove jars, knives, entirely unsure of what to do. “Right, brilliant.”
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The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites
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venmondiese · 1 month
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𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝!
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥/𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬
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𝐄𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬
𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐆𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 (𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬) 𝐎𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫
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𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧/𝐀 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞
𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫
𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥!
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anjelicawrites · 2 months
Note
So, this is about the war boys polycule. How did they all get together? Was the reader with Tom first and then they were joined by Billy? Or the other way around? Or even Tom and Billy together first and then they invited the reader to join? I would love to see what their first time together was like, if you’re up for writing it.
This came out longer than it was supposed to be nonnie, I'm sorry (?)
Warnings: jealousy, kissing, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, a bit of chocking, overstimulation. A/N: reader is AFAB and is nondescript (Tom only calls them "good girl" once, they/them pronouns used if needed.
NSFW and 18+ only please!
They find you at the pub, morose and drunk as you mull over your memories with Billy. You are too far gone to truly hear Billy's worried remarks and it's up to Tom to lift you up and carry you bridal style to your small flat.
You never meant to put a wench in their friendship, never meant to be that person, you never thought Tom would be interested in you; he did flirt with you while you were interviewing him, but he did it with everyone at the military hospital and with half of the pub, the night the whole of London was celebrating the end of the war and you wanted to do some private celebration with sweet Billy. You never meant to hurt Tom and their disagreement around your budding relationship with Billy came as a nasty surprise that woke you up from your post war fantasies, and forced you to choose between being a good person or a selfish one.
You've seen too much death and destruction in your job as a reporter during the war to cause damages yourself: this was the only reason why you told them with tears in your voice
"I'm out. I'm not going to be the person that destroys your friendship."
To then leave, deaf to Billy calling your name and dodging Tom's hand that tried to grab your wrist.
You disappeared into the crowd and, hopefully, from their lives, hoping that the damages weren't so big that they couldn't be fixed.
Tom's warmth and tobacco scent envelops you, lulling you into a deep sleep, aided by your drunken state. You don't hear the sounds of the city around you, nor them discussing whether or not they should put you in bed dressed, only to decide to remove your shoes and roll you in all the blankets you own. You don't hear them settle in your small living room, nor feel the soft kiss Billy leaves on your temple: you're dead to the world and to the thought that you've lost your chance at happiness.
When you wake up, the morning after, you're hangover and confused: it's not the first time you get drunk, but you've never left your shoes tidily next to the door, not you had ever wrapped yourself in so many blankets. Then you hear movement from the living room and worry sparks in your belly: who is in your small flat with you?
Grabbing your shoe as a weapon you swing the bedroom door open, only to be welcomed by the sight of Tom attacking your secret stash of biscuits and Billy drinking tea with a straight back.
"I think I'm going to be sick."
You say, before dashing to the loo to throw up all the alcohol you've managed to drink yesterday.
In between retching you hear their voices from beyond the closed door and elect to ignore them. You still play deaf while you wash your face and brush your teeth: what the hell happened last night?
You receive your answer during breakfast, while munching on the almost burnt toasts Billy made for you, since Tom has finished all your biscuits!
"And why are you two still here?".
Billy's cheeks burn fire red and he almost loses the hold on your grandma's teacup, Tom stares at you as if ready to fight.
"Billy and I discussed our situation." He then says. "The situation being me destroying your friendship?" "No. Us two being both interested in you and you feeling the same." Tom concludes. "I have some very hot tea at hand." "And we have a proposal for you."
Billy's voice cuts through the tension between you and Tom.
"And what's that?"
You're walking back and forth like a caged beast, the unlikely duo staring at you.
"Are you two serious? Don't answer that!" You pace some more. "You two really think that is a good idea? All of us together?" "You want us love and we want you as well." Tom says.
He's right and you know it.
You've been with Billy, you've chosen him but are not immune to Tom's roguish charm, if you have to be absolutely sincere with yourself.
"I need to think about it and I need time."
Tom isn't too thrilled when you tell them that they need to go back to the military hospital still housing them, where their friendship started; Billy looks at you, concerned that the idea might offend you, when you simply need to be on your own to mull everything over.
The assignment in Scotland, to cover one of the prisoner camps for the enemy soldiers, comes as a relief: you need to focus on something else that's not you, Billy and Tom.
Not that you can leave your memories back in London, they pop up in your mind when you curl under the covers in the drafty pub room you're occupying: Billy's reddened face when you first french kissed him or how he looked like he was going to have a coronary when he first saw you naked, Tom's rakish smile and the way he would look at you, how much your heart was torn between the two friends.
Does it have to be that way, though? Is there a way for their idea to truly function?
You work, write your assignments and eat the terrible food of the pub with those questions playing in the background of your mind as you ask yourself if you have the courage to say yes: you've done so many dangerous things during the war, yet none had ever felt like starting such a strange chapter of your life.
The part of your brain that has been facepalming at your terrible decision making, since you decided to start a career in journalism, is screaming at how stupid you are, how crazy this is. You never cared before and as sure as hell you don't now that Billy is on his knees, blushing as he helps you out of your stockings and panties and Tom is opening your blouse to gently fondle your breasts as he kisses your neck.
The bed is somewhere behind you three but it doesn't matter, Tom is keeping you upright as Billy's tongue licks your folds slowly, with long sweeps from your hole to your clit that make your knees wobble. His tongue leisurely explores every inch of your cunt; the wetter you are, the easier it is for him to switch between vertical sweeps and round ones that have his mouth plastered against your cunt, until his lips find your clit and latch there with a moan that makes you keen.
Your body arches when Billy's fingers slip inside your hole slowly, you've taught him how to drive you absolutely mad, and you barely notice one of Tom's hands traveling down your body to grab Billy's hair to keep him close to your center, not when Billy's pads find that place that has you whine like a hurt animal the more he fucks against it.
You come with a scream and the pleasure doesn't stop: Tom is keeping Billy's face against your cunt and Billy is all too eager to keep tasting you, after all those days apart. His hands grab your hips when you try to squirm away as Tom's hand curls gently around your throat when you start begging and whining because the pleasure is too much, too intense, too much pressure ready to explode in your tummy and it doesn't stop when you come again and again, until your body falls against Tom, only then they lay you on the bed to finish peeling your clothes off.
You feel like your mind is floating, tired as you are you cuddle closer to Billy, who is laying next to you: you are so tired you're ready to sleep. With your eyes closed you snuggle in his clean scent and don't hear Tom moving towards you, one of his big hands gently cups your wet cunt and you moan, so oversensitive already.
"Shh, I need to prepare you." He says, his voice uncharacteristically devoid of his usual abrasive tone. "Tom please." You're not sure what you're begging for, more pleasure or mercy from them; you don't have time to truly think about it, Billy gently turns your head so that your foreheads can touch.
"Can we?" He asks, still as shy as he was the first time he slept with you. "Yes." You whisper back.
You're not sure your body can manage more pleasure but you're happy to try, for your sweet Billy, and for Tom as well.
Tom's long fingers slip inside of you, you're so wet it's so easy for him to start scissoring you with squelching sounds that would embarrass you, if you weren't too focused in kissing Billy as one of his hands cups your breast to gently massage it, in stark contrast with the way Tom is fucking against your poor G spot: fast and deep pushes that make your whole body tremble and your muscles curl brutally around him, pleasure burning through your body until you're certain you're going mad with it, instead it explodes inside of you and you whine in Billy's mouth as full body shakes ravage your body.
Tom turns you on your back, covering you fully, his weight carried by his bent arm next your head as the other hooks one of your useless legs on his shoulder, before breaching you slowly, careful of his size and of the desire burning in his loins from the second he's first seen you.
"Good girl." He drawls, his accent thick in your ear. "Such a good girl."
Like a mantra he says as he pushes inside of you, deeper and deeper, faster with every pass, until he bottoms out and you arch under him, your eyes crossing with a whine, your hand seeking Billy, as if he's your tether and he comes to you, to kiss you again as Tom grabs your hips to make sure he's still deep inside of you when he rears back, before pounding inside of you with abandon, your muscles so loose and wet it's easy for him to ravage you, your cunt the perfect fist around his cock, your body arching under him without your control, simply craving all the pleasure he's willing to give you, until you come with a shriek.
With a curse Tom turns you on your front and enters you again, his hands on your breasts as he supports you against his chest, his hips pistoning against you, your juices leaking obscenely down your tights. Billy's soft lips land on your abused clit to suck desperately, hungry for you again and you cry and beg, broken by your men, your body trembles, your hips try to squirm away from the dual onslaught of pleasure. But you have nowhere to go, you're trapped as pressure builds and builds inside of you and you come all over Billy's face and Tom's cock, your mind blank, body lax in their arms.
Your mind floats as they hug you tight, their lips kissing you everywhere they can and tether you back to shore, to them, to Billy's desperately hard cock nestled between the lips of your overused cunt. Tom's seed is still flowing out of your hole, marking your thighs and Billy's erection, not that any of you care, your body has never been so ready for Billy, the tiredness of your muscles notwithstanding.
"Please." You moan against him. "I love you." He murmurs against your lips, his cheeks aflame.
Billy is gentle when he enters you, slow pushes and pulls, mindful of how sore you are but he is relentless, his hips grinding against your clit, his lips around one pert nipple and he moans at the taste of your skin. You call his name and Tom's, ready to be the vessel of his pleasure, already drunk on yours that you don't expect Billy to cradle your tired body against himself, before he kneels on the bed, letting you sit on his erection, now so deep inside of you that you are sure you're not going to be able to walk for a week. Tom helps Billy wound your legs around his hips, so that he can rock inside of you with his face against your breasts and God help you, you can feel the pleasure spiraling again, and it's not only Tom's fingers making slow, circular motions on your clit, it's the closeness, it's the way Billy kisses your drenched skin as his cock massages your G spot continuously, riding the tendrils of the past orgasms still singing in your nerves.
"I can't, Billy...".
He needs to come, you can see in the way his face scrunches as he fights against the pleasure; you can't orgasm anymore, your body isn't capable to go again, but you don't care, as long as you can give him the pleasure he deserves.
"One last time, please." He begs, his face so earnest and open you can feel tears at the corners of your eyes. "Be good." The drawl of Tom's accent makes you shiver. "You have another one in you, for Billy." "No, no, Tom please." You whine, weak and lost. "No more." "Shh, I know you can." Tom growls, hungry for you. "I can't if you don't come with me, please." Billy begs with a desperate voice.
You make an animalistic sound at the back of your throat when Billy's hips rock faster and Tom's fingers push tighter on your abused clit; Billy's fingers grab your skin to push you closer to him as his cockhead bullies your G spot relentlessly and Tom's fingers slip on the squelching mess that's your center. With inarticulate sounds your body tries to escape their hold and they just keep you there, squashed between them, Billy's lips on your breasts leave marks he'll later kiss, Tom's teeth worry your neck as he pinches your clit cruelly, deaf to your whines of pleasurable pain, to how broken you sound when pleasure ebbs and ebbs and you crash in their hold, Billy following you with a long moan.
Billy's tears of pleasure mingle with yours as you three fall on the destroyed sheets; your skin almost hurt where it touches them, but you don't care, because you need this, need them as they do you.
This, this is the answer to the questions plaguing you in Scotland: simply loving one another, building something together instead of running away, giving you three a fighting chance, despite how uncommon their idea had been. And despite the voice in your head: it was wrong back when you started being a journalist and it is wrong now that your body is cradled by theirs. This is worth fighting for and God have mercy on whomever will ever try to separate you three.
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tomhiddleston · 8 months
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One More Tomorrow (Billy Taylor x Fem!Reader) - Chapter II.
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CHAPTER I.
Summary: Billy's crush returns to The Halcyon for her seventeenth birthday and the two of them enjoy more chances to grow closer.
Pairing: Billy Taylor x Fem!Reader (third person)
TW: so much fluff, blink and you miss it Billy having some impure thoughts, mention of death of a parent, Billy being Billy again
Word Count: 5.5k+
A/N: I love Billy Taylor so much that I want to scream, explode out of my body, and ascend to the moon. That's the author's note. Also, thanks again to @valeskafics for giving this a read-through for me! c:
Disclaimer: I do not own any The Halcyon characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are always appreciated!
Art deco dividers by @saradika
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It is the longest summer of Billy’s life, waiting for the months to tick by and November to finally arrive. Every day is just another shift. The same old thing day in and day out. Now and then, Billy catches himself staring wistfully at the marble staircase as though he will see her coming down to have lunch with her father or pop out for a bit of shopping. He even starts dreaming about her. About taking her dancing or going on a drive through the country. One morning he wakes up blushing after dreaming about her in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle toward him in a church filled to the brim with white roses. 
Does she dream about him, too?
The stiflingly hot summer months wane on and Billy continually bothers Mr. Garland about the Greenes’ return visit to The Halcyon. Every time he asks, the answer is the same: there has been no request yet about any birthday party, whether for Mr. Greene or his daughter. Billy starts to wonder if she won’t return in the fall. If, maybe, she’s found a beau in Birmingham - one she would rather celebrate her birthday with. One her father might actually approve of.
He starts to mope around The Halcyon when August turns into September with still no word, enough that even Mr. Garland begins to notice. His mum, Peggy, has seen the most of his gloomy mood out of anyone, what with having to watch him drag his feet around their house every morning and night. “It’s about that girl again,” she tells Mr. Garland and both share a sigh. Young love can be such an overwhelming, complicated thing. But this is Billy’s first time coming face to face with it, and she hates to see her sweet boy - her eldest child and only son - like this.
Peggy is, therefore, elated when a letter arrives at The Halcyon addressed to Billy. When he arrives to have tea with her that afternoon, she wiggles her finger at the mailboxes beside her desk and tells him to look. 
But who would write to him? His confused expression only warrants a smile from his mother.
“It’s from Birmingham, Billy.”
He very nearly throws his teacup to the ground to lunge for the letter. Sure enough, that’s his name written in delicate cursive on the back of the envelope. His heart is pounding out of his chest as he tears open the letter and finds an automobile sketch inside with a single folded piece of paper. A handwritten letter so perfect that it almost looks printed.
Dear Billy,
Mr. Garland said you liked my father’s automobiles, so I managed to get one of his original sketches of the Model F for you. It’s not much, but I hope you will like it all the same.
I’ll see you in November.
She’s signed the letter “yours truly.” Not “sincerely,” not “regards.” He’ll be pouring over the meaning of that one for days. But, no matter the meaning of the signature… she’s remembered him. She’s thought of him. She’s taken the time to write to him! And she does still plan on returning to The Halcyon. 
Suddenly, his dreary summer no longer feels so dreary.
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November 1939.
The leaves on the trees lining the streets of London have turned orange and fallen. The grass, once kissed with glittering morning dew, slumps from the heavy frost that coats it each sunrise. It hasn’t snowed yet, but winter’s chill is beginning to set in in earnest. 
None of the ladies at The Halcyon dare step through the front doors without their heavy coats, gloves, and scarves any longer lest they catch their death, they lament. The fireplaces roar at all hours to offer some heat to the towering lobby. The doormen keep the doors shut as much as possible to trap the warmth inside. Cold manages to seep in every now and then when an unfortunately timed breeze blows through just as someone is stepping in or out, but it’s never severe enough to linger.
It is only a few weeks before The Halcyon’s lobby will be stripped of its usual flowers, vases, and other decorative trinkets and decked out in full Christmastime splendor. But first, the hotel must play host to the seventeenth birthday party of a certain young woman. And her father has spared no expense in decorating the lobby and the bar for the occasion. 
Before the Greenes even arrive, the lobby is filled with dozens of arrangements of white and pink roses in gold vases. Mr. Greene even commissioned a special tiered gold chandelier for the occasion, which hangs low over a stunning centerpiece of peonies, hydrangeas, roses, and lilies enhanced with sparkling Swarovski crystals. 
The other bellboys whinge about the decorations being too much, but Billy just brushes them off. He knows in his heart that they aren’t enough. Every flower in the world wouldn’t be enough to match her beauty.
He’s proven himself correct when the front doors swing open and she walks in, arm linked with her father’s while the other holds onto her dog’s lead. Billy has made sure that he is the one to take her coat and hat. He notices the coy smile on her rouged lips as he slips the coat off of her shoulders and the soft blush that blooms on her cheeks when his fingers brush against her upper arm. 
“Hello, miss,” he mutters softly, unable to hide his own smile. His heart is full to bursting at being so close to her again. The warm, rosy scent of her perfume is filling his nostrils and making his head spin.
“Hi,” she whispers over her shoulder, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “It’s good to see you.”
“You…” Billy’s mouth has gone so dry that he can’t finish what was meant to be a two-word sentence. He clears his throat to no avail. “Uh huh.”
She’s quickly whisked away by her father and Mr. Garland, who are eager to show off the decorations to her. It’s clear that she isn’t used to such grand gestures, seeing how she nervously clasps her hands in front of her and shifts from one foot to the other. Billy drinks in the sight of her, in her pale blue dress that he guesses has been tailored to fit her judging by the way it so perfectly hugs her every curve. His eyes linger perhaps a little too long on her bum because he hears Feldman clear his throat. 
“Come along, lover boy. Luggage to unload.”
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Billy doesn’t see her again until the following afternoon, when he is sent up to her room to take her dog out for a walk. She’s otherwise preoccupied, Feldman says. If it were for anyone else - even His Lordship himself - Billy would have groaned and grumbled about having to stumble about the streets of London being dragged along by a dog. He doesn’t even want to think about the more than few occasions when he’s lost control of a dog’s lead and left the guest’s beloved pet to run amok in the streets. He’s had to dodge cars chasing after more than one poodle or bulldog, only to return to The Halcyon completely out of breath and with his bellboy hat and cloak all askew.
But he won’t let that happen to her dog. There is no way that he will treat this dog as anything but the most precious jewel in the world. 
Walking toward the lobby, he has wrapped the lead around his wrist twice so there is no possibility for the dog to break free. He does thank his lucky stars that the dog is so small and well behaved. Even less of a chance to muck things up. Still… he can’t help but feel nerves churning in his stomach at the thought of something happening to the animal.
“Alright there, Clara?” he asks the corgi as she trots along happily beside him down the stairs. “It’s you and me today. Please be good, yeah?”
“Don’t worry. She always is.” 
Billy freezes. He knows that voice. 
When he looks up, his eyes meet hers. He’s been standing at his post by the door all day, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but he wasn’t expecting to see her right now. His free hand tugs at his uniform jacket to make sure he looks perfectly tidy and in order.
“Clara, are you going for a walk with Billy today?” She coos in a high-pitched voice to the dog, who spins in a circle in excitement. He watches a small crinkle form at the corner of her eye as she smiles at her beloved pet. Her cheeks and nose are pink from the cold and her hair is windswept, but she still looks as lovely as ever. “Do you… mind if I join you?”
“N-not at all,” Billy replies, sounding more nervous than he’d like to. “Bit cold out, though.” No, he reprimands himself. Don’t try to dissuade her, you idiot! He’s fidgeting with his hands again like he does every time he talks to her. Get it together, Billy.
“It is, but… I need a break from all this last-minute party planning. If I have to look at another table setting, I think I’ll die of boredom.” She rolls her eyes dramatically to emphasize her hyperbole, but Billy still prickles at the mere thought of it. 
“I don’t want you to die,” he responds with a little too much sincerity. But he means it. He can’t think of anything that would be worse.
“All the more reason for me to join you, then, Billy.” 
Her smile softens the tightness in his jaw. He offers a crooked grin in return, but he’s kicking himself inside. Will he ever stop making a fool of himself in front of this girl? He could tell himself a thousand times to act normally around her and he would still muck it all up the second he opens his mouth to speak to her. And yet, she doesn’t seem to mind? She might even… like him? 
He reckons he’ll never understand girls.
Their walk with Clara winds up being the longest they’ve ever spent alone together. It’s so much more than a stolen glance across the hotel lobby or a few minutes spent chatting when he brings her tea. They are strolling through Hyde Park side by side, almost in a world of their own. This isn’t the time of year when mums are out with their babies in prams or old couples are walking hand in hand among the trees. Due to the cold, the park is uncharacteristically empty and quiet, save for their own shoes crunching along the stone path and the jingle of Clara’s collar.
But the very best part is that Billy has gotten a chance to hold a proper conversation with her. If by “conversation” he means “letting her tell him about herself while he bloody clams up yet again.” She tells him about her life in Birmingham, about a book she’s reading, about her father’s company. Anything and everything. He’s happy to hear her talk. He’d listen to her read the dictionary aloud if it meant he could hear the sound of her bright, sweet voice. She has a way of softening the inflection at the end of her sentences that is so warm, so comforting. 
“Billy.” His head snaps toward her like it does every time she says his name. “Is it true that your mum works at The Halcyon, too?”
“Yeah… she’s the telephonist.”
“Oh. I’ve spoken to her, then.” A realization dawns on her and she laughs, throwing her head back in a way that makes his ears go hot. “Oh… Mrs. Taylor. I’m so silly. I should have known. She seems nice.” 
“She is.” Billy wrinkles his nose. “Bit overbearing, though. Sometimes…” He’s convinced that his mum still sees him as her little boy the way she treats him at times. Fussing over his hair, fixing his collar, tying his shoes. As if he isn’t turning eighteen next year. 
“Yeah, but that’s just her being your mum, isn’t it? They’re supposed to be like that. It just means she loves you.”
Billy shrugs. Doesn’t make his mum any less annoying about it. “What about your mum?” 
He realizes he’s well and truly stepped in it when he sees her face fall. He had wondered why only she and her father had been to The Halcyon, but guessed that maybe her mum didn’t fancy traveling. But the way she purses her lips and stares at her feet as they continue walking suggests something else. 
“She died when I was four.” 
“Oh–” Billy feels his heart sink at having brought up such a sorrowful memory. He wants to apologize a million times and it wouldn’t be enough to convey how sorry he is.
“Please don’t feel bad about asking. It’s been so long that I… I don’t really remember her. It’s just been me and dad all this time. And he makes sure I know that I’m loved.” She laughs dryly. “I mean, look at how completely overboard he’s gone with this birthday party. I guess that’s his version of being overbearing.”
Billy’s expression softens. “Well, but… you deserve it, though. I’d throw you a party like that. If I had the money.” He realizes what he’s just said and hurriedly attempts to cover his tracks. “I mean…! If I was your dad. No–” Bloody hell, you’ve just made it worse. 
She laughs in the same way she does whenever he fumbles over his words with her. Not laughing at him, not laughing like he’s stupid like other people tend to do. It’s a genuine, sweet laugh accompanied by that glimmer in her eyes that he loves so much. He pulls his lips inward as he feels new heat rush to his cheeks. 
“Did you get my letter, Billy? From this summer?”
His previous embarrassment almost completely forgotten, his face lights up in a wide grin. He becomes more animated than he’s ever been around her, almost bouncing along the path beside her. She clearly notices, judging by the way she smiles.
“Oh, god. Yeah, I did…! That sketch by your dad… that was bloody incredible!”  
She laughs again, a laugh that seems to warm the air around them. “I’m so glad you liked it.” 
“Liked it? I… I loved it. The Model F is the most brilliant car on the market. But you… know that…” Billy stops himself before he begins to fanboy even more. He feels a little flutter in his heart as he glances sideways at her, though. He dips his head a bit in a moment of sudden bashfulness. “Can’t believe you… you know. Thought of me.”
“‘Course I did.”
Billy turns it over again and again in his mind, trying to decipher the meaning of her words. If he weren’t such an idiot, he’d come right out and ask her. But the words bloom and die on his tongue in an instant. 
He can’t remember a time when a girl ever looked twice at him, let alone thought of him when they weren’t together. Had she really taken time to think about him when she had returned home to Birmingham? Did she think of him when she took tea every afternoon, or when she removed her coat upon stepping inside her house? 
His silence eventually prompts her to prod him with a question of her own.
“Did… you think of me, too, Billy?”
His eyes are wide when he turns to her. He doesn’t mean to stare at her like some startled animal, but he can’t bloody help it. The thought of divulging the truth to her strikes the fear of God in him. 
“Yeah, I did,” is all he can manage to push past the frog in his throat.
Yes, he thought of her. He thought of her every morning as he stepped foot into the hotel lobby. He thought of her whenever he passed the flower shop at the end of his street and smelled the freshly cut roses they had for sale. He thought of her on rainy days, on sunny days. He thought of her morning and night. 
Even his younger sister, Dora, eventually started to notice how Billy seemed to float around their house whenever he would start to think about her. Being only eight years old, it had been a prime opportunity for the younger Taylor sibling to tease her brother relentlessly. But not even Dora’s incessant needling could have dissuaded Billy from thinking about the charming, beautiful girl from Birmingham who had smiled at him and made him feel wanted. Nothing could.
That’s what Billy would have said to her if he’d had the courage to do so. 
Instead, he just manages to flash a shy little smile that seems to satisfy her because she responds with one of her own. 
“Will I see you around at my party tomorrow night?” 
“Yeah… I’ll be working.” 
She doesn’t know that he begged and pleaded with one of the other bellboys to switch shifts with him so that he could be there. He doesn’t tend to work such late evenings. His mum prefers him to be home for dinner. But he would have done anything to be there for her party, even if it means that he will be stood by the door taking hats and coats all night.
“I wish you could come to the party itself,” she mutters softly, perhaps thinking that he can’t hear her. She sounds so earnest that it gives him butterflies. “My dad and my cousin Margaret won’t tell me what they’ve got planned, but I think it'll be a real gas.”
Billy knows he may be a bit daft sometimes, but he isn’t stupid enough to think that he could be anything but a bellboy at her party. When he’s alone with her, it feels a bit like they aren’t from different social classes. That the earrings she wears aren’t real diamonds and her clothes haven’t come from the finest shops in London. That he isn’t a lad from down the street who’s never owned anything that wasn’t second hand. She treats him like he’s someone. Someone worth talking to, worth listening to. Someone who is more than just another worker whose name she’ll forget by the next day.
It brings him crashing back down to earth every time he steps out of their little bubble and back into the real world. In the end, he’s just a bellboy. And she’s a beautiful heiress. Love, affection, even friendship between people like them is something forbidden. That is something that Billy must constantly remind himself of. It hangs in the very air around them whenever he is with her. But it does not stop him from wanting her.
“I’m sure you’ll have a great time,” Billy says, and he means it. “I hope you do.”
Billy laments that they’ve been walking for long enough that The Halcyon has come back into view. Their approach spells the end of their walk together. It’s a return to that real world where they must go their separate ways; him, to his work, and her, to her glittering, beautiful life. 
The hotel lobby welcomes them back with the warmth of the fireplaces, which helps them begin to shake off the November chill. Theirs is a quick goodbye as her cousin pulls her away, shrilly and breathlessly admonishing her for disappearing when there is still so much to do for the party. But she’s sure to give Billy one last tender smile before she disappears into the restaurant.
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There’s hardly any room to breathe, let alone move, through The Halcyon lobby on the night of her seventeenth birthday party. If anyone thought there had been too many flowers in the room before, then they would have had to rethink their definition of “excess” upon seeing the state of the lobby tonight. 
Flowers, mostly white roses, cover every pillar, frame every doorway, cover every rung on the bannister. There is even an archway created entirely from flowers at the top of the staircase - the perfect setting for the birthday girl’s grand entrance. And the gold accents have only been expanded upon since the day before. In some places, the light bounces off of the gold candelabras and vases in such a way that it casts a warm reflection on the walls and floor. It’s the most extravagant affair that Billy has seen at The Halcyon in more than a year of working there.
And it’s all for her.
The buzz in the room dies down in an instant when Mr. Greene appears in the archway at the top of the stairs, delivering a short speech about the gathering of family and friends that is eloquent without any of the stuffiness of having been rehearsed. It’s clear by the reaction of the crowd that he has a natural charisma about him - something that his daughter has clearly inherited from him. 
Billy’s eyes widen as she steps out from behind the flowers after being beckoned by her father. There must be a hundred people packed into the lobby, but it’s as though a spotlight has been shined on her. Flash bulbs pop and the room erupts into applause. But all that seems to exist in this moment… is her.
Billy enjoys the perfect view of her from where he stands beside Feldman by front doors. She’s wearing her hair in an elegant updo with roses pinned into her low bun. Her gold floor length gown cascades around her like a sparkling waterfall, flowing over each step of the staircase as she and her father begin to descend arm in arm. The dress is modest, with long sleeves and a v-neck that doesn’t show off too much. But the gold fabric gathers at the waist in a way that accentuates her lovely figure. Billy can’t help but bristle at the thought of all the young men who will get to dance with her tonight and rest their hands on the soft curve of her waist.
But when her eyes meet his from across the room - however briefly - all his jealousy and longing melts away in an instant. 
Billy spends the rest of the evening at his post but finds himself craning his neck each time the door to the hotel bar opens, on the off chance that he will catch a glimpse of her in her beautiful gold dress. He thinks he does once or twice, but he can never be sure. 
The night wanes on and Billy begins to yawn. He’s never worked this late before. If he wasn’t here, he’d probably be fast asleep by now. Feldman tries to send him home at half past eleven, but he just shrugs him off. 
“Billy, you’re falling asleep standing up. Go home.”
Billy hums and shakes his head, lifting a hand to his face to rub at his eyes. “Can’t go yet.”
“What are you waiting for, Billy? For me to have to carry your ugly mug home because you’ve fallen asleep on the job?” Feldman’s rising annoyance with him makes him blush.
“I…” Billy stares at his feet. “Could you do me a favor, Feldman?”
Fifteen minutes later, Billy is pacing back and forth in the dark restaurant on the opposite end of the hotel from the bar. The chairs have been flipped and placed atop the tables for the night. The silverware sits, polished and ready for the next day. The curtains are drawn across the floor-to-ceiling windows, with only the softest light from the street lamps outside filtering through them. Only the sconces on either side of the door offer any real light to the room. 
Billy has removed his bellboy hat and nervously sweeps his palm over his slicked-back hair to ensure that not even a single hair is out of place. In his free hand, he clutches a small, wrapped box with such a vice grip that his knuckles have gone white. And he continues to pace and pace and pace while he waits for the restaurant door to open.
When he sees the small crack of light at the door begin to grow and spread across the carpet, he stands at full attention with his hands behind his back. Somehow, his heart begins to beat more quickly than it already has been when she peers around the door. Her furrowed brow softens the moment she lays eyes on him.
“Billy… hi.” She’s smiling, and the light beside the door hits her face in a way that gives her an angelic glow. “Heard you wanted to see me.”
If only she knew just how badly he’s wanted to see her all night. He drinks in the sight of her, looking her up and down. He notices little details that he didn’t see from across the room earlier. The teardrop earrings she’s wearing that match her necklace. The little curled strands of hair that fall on either side of her face. The pink lipstick that’s different from the red she usually wears. He’s sure to be quick about it, not wanting it to seem like he’s asked her there just to ogle at her. 
“You look…” 
“Exhausted?” She jokes, but the sincerity on his face gives her pause.
“Beautiful.”
The lighting may be a bit rubbish for seeing her properly, but even he can tell that he’s made her blush. Her hand flies to her cheek as if to hide her smile. Her eyes fall to the floor. Surely she’s been complimented dozens of times tonight. He reckons - he hopes - that his has meant the most of them all.
“Thank you, Billy,” she breathes, finally pulling herself together enough to respond. “You look handsome, too.”
He’s caught completely off guard. The very air seems to leave his lungs. At first, all he can do is shake his head and let out a nervous laugh. “I’m… just in me uniform…” 
She takes a step toward him and he swallows hard. It still feels so hard to bloody breathe. “But you always look handsome… doesn’t matter what you’re wearing.”
It’s by some small miracle that Billy doesn’t fall to the ground unconscious right then and there. He very nearly drops the gift he’s still holding behind his back. It’s only when he has to fumble to catch it so it doesn’t tumble to the ground that he remembers why he had Feldman have her come see him.
“I… I, uh…” he flounders trying to speak again. “Bout to be off for the night, but, uh… didn’t wanna leave til…” He clears his throat. “Til I gave you this.”
“What?” He sees her eyes narrow suspiciously, although she keeps her lips turned up in a smile.  
Billy takes a step toward her, dotting out his tongue to wet his lips. “Close your eyes… and hold out your hands.” 
She does exactly as he asks, letting her eyes fall closed before she extends her perfectly manicured hands. Into her cupped palms, he placed the little box he’s kept in his locker all night. He’s seen the pile of gifts that she’s received tonight, the big boxes with their shiny wrapping paper and bags tied up with perfect bows. The one in her hands is no bigger than a makeup compact, and wrapped in crinkled newspaper with a paltry, crooked bow made out of twine. It’s hardly the most glamorous gift she’s gotten, probably ever. He almost feels embarrassed as he sees it resting atop her hands.
When she opens her eyes and sees what he’s given her, she doesn’t react in disappointment. Rather, Billy watches her face light up in a smile.
“Billy… you didn’t have to–”  
Billy rocks back onto his heels and offers a little shrug. “I know… but I… I had to get you something for your birthday. You only turn seventeen once.”
She’s holding the little gift as though it’s a delicate baby bird. “Do you want me to open it now?”
“Well, I– I mean, you don’t have to…” What if she didn’t like it? She wouldn’t have to pretend to be grateful if he wasn’t there when she unwrapped her gift.
But his words go in one of her ears and out of the other. She carefully plucks the bow open and unveils the ruby red box that’s been hiding beneath the newspaper. Inside it, she finds a delicate rose brooch. The stem is made out of a shiny gold that matches all the gold accents dotted about the hotel lobby. The petals themselves are white. Billy thinks he remembers the shopkeeper say that it’s porcelain. 
“Happy birthday.”
“Oh, Billy…” she whispers as she admires the brooch.
He saved up for months to buy it for her after seeing it in the window of the pawn shop down the road from his house on his way home from work one day. His mum and dad usually expect him to chip in for necessities now that he’s employed. “It’s your money, Billy,” his mum said to him when he asked if he could keep a little more to save for the brooch. He put away every penny he could after that. What should have taken him six months to save up, he saved in only four. 
“I, uh… saw it and thought of you,” Billy says warmly. “I know how you… like roses and all…” 
She delicately lifts the brooch from its box and lays it flat in her palm to see it better in the light. She turns it over and over again, treasuring every last detail. And all the while, the smile in her eyes shimmers brighter than the sun.
“Billy, this is so… incredible. It’s beautiful…” 
“Yeah…?” He feels a sense of pride, hearing her genuine gratitude and seeing her joy. 
“Yeah.” She finally looks up at him and he felt his stomach flip. “Billy, it’s perfect. I love it. I love it so much…” She reaches out to take his hand and wraps her fingers around his. Her touch is soft and warm against the calloused pads of his fingers and palm. Bloody hell, how many times can he nearly faint in front of her in one evening?
For a fleeting moment, there’s a force that draws them closer to one another. His senses are overwhelmed by the smell of her perfume, the warmth of her hand in his, the sight of her face so close to his. But he’s a bloody idiot as always and stands completely frozen in place. He wants to lean down and press his lips to hers, but his muscles won’t move.
He clears his throat. “Can I… put it on for you?” 
He sees disappointment flash across her face before she pulls away. She’s quick to replace it with a sweet grin, but he knows he’s missed his chance. He’ll be kicking himself for weeks for this. Stupid, stupid coward. 
“Please.” 
His hands are shaking as he takes the brooch from her and fumbles to clasp it to the front of her dress, just below her left shoulder. 
“How does it look?” she asks.
Billy can think of a million ways to describe her beauty in this moment. Not just the way the brooch looks on her, but everything about her. In the end, he smiles crookedly and settles on the one he thinks encapsulates her best.
“Exquisite.” 
Their time together is short as always. Her party can’t go on without the guest of honor and he can finally allow Feldman to send him home now that he’s given her her gift. His mum’s probably waiting up to make sure he gets home safe and it’s nearing midnight, now.
“Billy, we’re leaving for home in the morning,” she tells him as if he doesn’t already know that. “I guess… you’re off tomorrow.”
In any other situation, he’d be glad that Feldman wasn’t making him come in first thing after working such a late shift. But now it means that he won’t be there to see her off like he did the last time. 
“Can I write to you again, Billy? After I get home?” 
“Of course.” His earlier embarrassment at having denied her a kiss is somewhat dulled by the assurance that she wants to keep in touch. “But my handwriting’s a bit rubbish…”
She laughs. “I’m sure it’s fine. I’d… like to see it. Be sure to write back. Promise?”
“Promise.”
Satisfied, she pulls open the door but stops in the doorway. “Thank you again, Billy. For my present. It’s the best one I’ve gotten tonight.” She chews on her bottom lip, lingering on the boundary between the restaurant and the lobby for just a moment longer. She presses her cheek to the edge of the mahogany door, staring at him as though she doesn’t want to go. But eventually she relents as calls of her name echo through the lobby and she is beckoned back to the party.
And Billy watches dreamily until long after the bar door shuts behind her. 
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apothe-roses · 4 months
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12 Days of Smuff
Day 4: Reassurance & Car Sex
Billy Taylor x wealthy!Reader
Word Count: 309
Warnings: smut, piv sex, semi-public sex, allusions to classism?
Prompt created by @madmax8603. Dividers by @benkeibear and @mykento
Disclaimer: this is a work of fanfiction. I do not own the right to the character of Billy Taylor.
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“Billy!” you call out. You run after your boyfriend into the hotel’s car park. He stops, but he doesn’t turn around. You take a moment to catch your breath.
“Please don’t go,” you beg. He turns to look at you.
“Why shouldn’t I? It’s not like I’m welcome with that lot,” he says bitterly. He turns to walk off, but you grab his arm and drag him to your parents’ car.
“What are you doing?” He asks incredulously as you unlock the car and pull him into the backseat.
“Not welcome there? I invited you!” You tell him. “I wanted you there with me.” You cup his face in your hands. Your heart breaks when you see the sadness in his eyes.
“I’m not good enough for you,” he murmurs. “I haven’t got the money. The friends…”
“I don’t care about those things,” you interrupt. “I love you. You’re worth ten of any of those snobs.”
Billy wraps his arms around your waist.
“I love you too,” he whispers before kissing you. You deepen the kiss, sliding your hands down his chest. He groans as you palm his growing hard-on.
“Need you,” he moans while you undo his belt and open his trousers, freeing his cock. He slips his hand under your skirt while you stroke him, circling your clit over your panties. When you’re wet enough, he slides them to the side. He guides you into place, and you sink down onto his cock. Both of you groan when he bottoms out inside you.
You take a moment to adjust to his size.
“Billy,” you moan, starting to ride him.
“Just like that,” he chokes out in response. He grips your hips to aid in your movement. The windows fog up. Anyone could walk by and see you fucking the hotel bellhop, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
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That's it.
Send me requests for Billy. Please. I'm begging all of you.
Edit: the fact that I literally forgot how to write just from looking at him
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months
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Body Electric
Pairing: Tom Bennett (World on Fire) x f!reader x Billy Taylor (The Halcyon) Warnings: Angst, mentions of PTSD and familial death, (consensual) infidelity, voyeurism, smut. Word count: ~3.9k
Summary: Tom's been sullen since returning from the Navy, and when his sister, Lois, moves from Longsight to London it heralds the end of the honeymoon period of his and his wife's marriage. Deciding a trip to the capital is just what they need to reignite the flame, Tom's wife gets much more than she bargains for when they check into The Halcyon, and she flirts with the handsome young bell boy to make her husband jealous.
Author's note: For @adragonprinceswhore and @mefools. This is not a crack fic. I have warped canon (I mean, I had to get these two to exist in the same AU anyway), so Billy didn't die when he was drafted, and has gone back to his old job at The Halcyon. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
Dappled sunlight plays upon Tom’s sharp features, the occasional shadow of a tree or building passing across his face as the train speeds through the British countryside. He’d look beautiful, bathed in golden hues, were it not for the pensive expression he wears, and the faintest of dark circles that linger beneath his eyes.
She can’t remember the last time he looked genuinely happy - perhaps it was their wedding day?
Her and Tom had met in secondary school, and she’d thought he was an idiot to begin with; handsome, but always mucking around in lessons, never able to take anything seriously. It wasn’t until they’d both left that they’d become an item. She’d go to the weekly dances at the Pavillion, and every week he would ask her out. The first three times she had said no, not wanting to get mixed up with a known troublemaker. On the fourth occasion she’d relented, simply in the hopes that if she said yes he’d leave her alone. But she’d found she enjoyed his company, he made her laugh effortlessly, and when his blue eyes gazed into hers it made her feel like the only girl in the world that mattered. When he had kissed her it had stolen all the air from her lungs, and from that point on she was smitten with Tom Bennett.
The night before he shipped out for the first time, she had thought he meant to slam the bed’s headboard through the brickwork of the wall with the force with which he took her. However, she had smiled to herself when she’d felt the pleasant ache between her thighs the next day.
“Something to remember me by,” he’d told her with a wink and that trademark smirk of his.
Something to remember indeed.
She’d barely recognised him when he’d returned. He was thin, tired, didn’t laugh as freely, and learning that his father had passed when the Bennett family home was shelled had darkened his mood further. He hadn’t stayed long, enough to argue with his sister, Lois, and enough to find his way between her thighs once more and make her swear to him that she’d marry him when he came back.
Of course she had said yes, there was no one in the world she could imagine wanting to marry more than Tom. But with how things are between them these days she is left wondering if he’d married her because he loved her, or because she was the one thing left in Longsight that he could anchor himself to.
They’d married quickly when Tom was discharged for the final time, the war at its end. It had been an intimate affair, and despite the toll his service to his country had taken on him, Tom still gazed into her eyes on their wedding night and made her feel like the only girl in the world that mattered.
But then Lois had announced she was taking Vera and moving to London - her and Connie had found a place they could share. A fresh start. She had hinted at wanting to move away from Longsight before, and Tom had dismissed it, insisting that the family must stay together. 
He was furious when she’d chosen to go anyway, refusing to be part of the send off party for her at the train station.
“This is where mum and dad are buried, how can she do this?!” He’d raged.
“They’re just headstones, Tommy,” she had tried to reassure him, “memories go everywhere with you.”
“You wouldn’t fucking understand,” he’d seethed back at her, “you’ve still got both your parents, what have I got?!”
“You’ve got me, you’ll always have me,” she’d said quietly.
He’d fallen silent at that, bowing his head and averting his gaze. It made her chest ache to see him that way.
It’s been close to a month since they were last intimate, and she has done her best to be patient and understanding. His time in the Navy has put him through a horrendous ordeal, coupled with losing Douglas, and his sister moving away, so she doesn’t pressure him.
However, she misses her husband. She feels that he is abandoning her each time he retreats into himself, going somewhere she can’t follow. Like two ships in the night, they pass each other by, laying in the same bed physically but emotionally never further apart.
When a letter arrives from Lois, letting them know she’s settled and would love for them to visit, she jumps at the opportunity. She has some money put aside from her job at the factory, and her and Tom never got to have a honeymoon, this would be the perfect way for them to rekindle the romance in their marriage.
She is shocked, yet thrilled, when Tom actually agrees to it, and the pair of them arrange a week’s worth of leave from their respective jobs, arranging to stay in a hotel rather than impose themselves upon Lois’ hospitality. There’d be plenty for them to do while they’re there, and she can’t wait to see the sights of Piccadilly Circus and Carnaby Street, she’s never been to London before.
Tom has stared silently out of the window the entire train ride from Manchester, though she knows better than to believe he’s taking in the scenery. It’s merely so he doesn’t have to make conversation. She can live with that, she is certain that once they’ve had their romantic week away that he’ll be much more talkative on the journey back.
Everything will be fine once we’re checked into The Halcyon.
It is early evening by the time they arrive, and Euston station is a crowded rush of people when they step onto the platform. She is fearful of it for a moment, never having seen so many people all in one place at once, until Tom takes her by the hand, guiding her through the crowds towards the taxi rank. Her heart soars at the gesture, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips over his protectiveness. Perhaps he is not lost to her after all.
She stares in wide eyed wonder out of the window of the black cab as it drives through the streets of London. It is similar to Manchester in its greyness and vastness, they both have all the trappings of big city living, however, the heart of London beats to an entirely different rhythm than that of Manchester’s. The capital seems harsher, more relentless than the northern locale that she calls home. She wonders if perhaps this is the right place to try to rekindle the spark in hers and Tom’s marriage after all.
That is until they step into the foyer of The Halcyon. Her heels click against the black and white tiles of the foyer, her mouth agape as she takes in the opulence of the huge pillars, the palm trees that flank either side of the entrance, and the yellow and orange hues of the stained glass panel in the ceiling. How could they not reignite their passion when they were going to live like royalty for a week?
“Billy!” The dark haired woman manning reception calls around the corner, once they’ve checked in. “Come and help Mr and Mrs. Bennett with their bags.”
A tall, lean young man, who can’t be any older than twenty, rounds the corner. He’s handsome, with bright blue eyes, and mousy hair that’s slicked back beneath the cap of his black and grey bellboy uniform.
He gives her a tight lipped smile, the tips of his ears turning pink as he looks at her and she can’t help the way she preens at his flustered state.
Still got it.
“Second floor, Billy,” the receptionist tells him as he leans down to grab their suitcases, “room twenty six.”
Billy nods. “Right this way, please, Mr and Mrs. Bennett,” he says, directing them towards the lifts.
She can feel the bellboy’s gaze upon her in the tight confines of the elevator and smiles to herself. At least someone was appreciative of her.
He takes his leave, bidding them both a good evening once their luggage is deposited outside of their room door, and her and Tom are left alone once more.
Tom whistles low as they enter, flicking on the lights, and she feels pride swell in her chest that he’s impressed by the lavish surroundings. A shiver of excitement runs through her as her eyes move over the crisp white pillows and crimson duvet that adorn the bed, thinking that this might be where they’ll finally make love for the first time in a month.
It’s a beautiful room; lace curtains hang in the windows, ornate floral wallpaper decorates the walls, there’s a writing desk by the window, and a yellow velvet armchair is placed off to one side by the bed.
Turning back towards Tom, she steps towards him, sliding her hands up his chest, over his jacket. She smiles demurely up at him, her voice a soft purr. “So, Mr. Bennett, what shall we do now?”
“It’s been a long journey, love,” he tells her, taking one of her hands and brushing his lips against her knuckles. “Let’s just get some rest, yeah?”
“Oh…okay,” she nods, stepping back and looking away. She feels like she might cry, as disappointment weighs heavily upon her chest. This is not how she imagined their first night here would go at all.
As she lays in the darkness, listening to the strange sounds of the city, motor cars and loud voices, all seeping in through the closed window, she can’t seem to fall asleep. She turns her face towards Tom, who lays facing away from her, wondering if he’s awake too.
“Tommy?” She whispers.
“Yeah?” He whispers back.
She pauses a moment, and when she speaks again she’s unable to disguise the tremble of emotion in her voice. “Do…do you still love me?”
He rolls to face her then, and the devastation of what she’s implying is evident in the arch of his eyebrows and parting of his lips, illuminated by the light of the streetlamp that pours in through the lace curtains. She feels a lump in her throat, regretting having asked.
“Course I do,” he says earnestly, tugging her towards him, and she buries her face in his chest. He presses his lips to the crown of her head, rubbing her back. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I’ve been letting you down.”
They stay like that for the rest of the night.
The next morning they sit in the hotel’s dining room for breakfast. Tom idly smokes a cigarette, a full English in front of him, while she butters her toast.
“Gonna go and see Lois today,” he tells her, taking a swig from his tea cup.
“I thought we’d arranged to visit her on Sunday?” She asks, frowning in confusion as she sets her knife down on her plate.
“We are,” Tom says, blowing smoke out through his nostrils - a gesture she has long since learned is a sign of irritation on his part. “But I’m gonna go see her today - alone.”
You’re going to start an argument, and then come back in a bad mood.
She sighs, folding her hands in her lap. “And what am I supposed to do?”
Tom shrugs. “Go to Carnaby Street, or whatever it was you were saying you wanted to do while we’re here.”
“Tommy, we’re supposed to do those things together, and I don’t wanna walk around London on my own!”
He nods, stubbing his cigarette out on the yolk of his fried egg, causing her to wrinkle her nose in disgust. He had barely touched his food, he never does anymore.
“Alright, look, I’m only gonna be gone a couple of hours, then we can do whatever you want. Why don’t you order some drinks for when I get back, and we can start our holiday properly?”
“You promise?” She asks with a small smile.
“Cross my heart,” he says, taking a final swig of his tea. He stands from the table and presses a kiss to her temple.
“And promise you won’t be horrible to Lois?”
“I’m not promising anything for that mardy cow,” he says, giving her a wink, before walking off.
She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms.
Fuck’s sake, Tommy.
She goes back up to the room once she’s finished her breakfast, and takes a long, hot soak in the bath. Almost two hours have passed by the time she has her make-up finished and her hair curled. Dressed in lingerie and a satin robe, she is still deciding on an outfit when she realises Tom will be back soon and she hasn’t ordered their drinks.
Calling down to the hotel’s switchboard from the phone on the desk, she asks for a glass of white wine and a whisky to be sent up to the room. Ordinarily, Tom is a lager drinker, but she decides he deserves a treat as they’re on holiday.
Ten minutes later, there’s a knock at the door and the bellboy from yesterday stands on the other side, holding a tray with the drinks they’d ordered.
She smiles warmly, watching him blush as he bows his head and enters the room, setting the tray down on a nearby table.
“Thank you…Billy, wasn’t it?” She asks, cocking her head.
He presses his lips together in a tight smile, glancing at her before looking shyly away again. It’s clear her state of undress is having an effect on him. “Yes, Mrs. Bennett,” he says, clearing his throat and straightening, clasping his hands behind his back. “Will that be all?”
Excitement flutters in her lower belly. It’s been a long time since a man has reacted to her so bashfully, and she’s enjoying it. She isn’t ready to let Billy slip away just yet.
“No need to be so formal, sweetheart,” she coos, “you can call me by my first name.”
He shuffles from foot to foot, huffing a nervous laugh. “Sorry, Mrs…sorry…”
“How old are you, Billy?” She asks, stepping towards him.
“I’m twenty-one.”
Seven years my junior. Not as bad as I’d thought.
“Did you serve, Billy?”
“Yes,” he says with a proud smile. “I manned the anti aircraft guns at the barracks for three years.”
The sound of a key in the lock draws both their attention towards the door, as Tom walks through it. Just as she’d anticipated, his expression is sour. He’s argued with Lois. 
“I’ll leave you both to it,” Billy says, with a polite nod of his head.
She knows how this will play out. Billy will leave, and Tom will allow his bad mood to ruin their day, either by refusing to leave their hotel room, or simply sulking his way around London when they’re supposed to be having a good time. Opting to use the current situation to her advantage, she decides to be tactical, and give her husband a reminder of what he’s missing out on. If he sees another man flirting with his wife, perhaps it will snap him out of this.
“No need to be in such a hurry, Billy, we were just getting to know each other. Or do you have somewhere you need to be?”
Billy eyes Tom carefully as he walks past the both of them, taking the whisky from the tray on the desk and sipping from it.
“Well, my shift finishes in ten minutes,” he says distractedly, “so I s’pose I could–”
“Perfect,” she cuts him off, taking his arm and guiding him to sit next to her on the edge of the bed.
Tom remains silent, taking a seat in the armchair and placing his glass on the table next to it. His jaw is set, gaze dark. He only ever looks like this when he’s sparring for a fight, but if this is what it takes, then so be it.
“Do you have a sweetheart, Billy?” She asks softly, fingernails grazing his thigh, causing him to flush bright red.
“Er…well…” he removes his cap, keeping his gaze fixed on it as he turns it round in his hands. “There was a maid that worked here…Kate, her name was. I fancied her…really fancied her, but she moved back to Ireland to be with her family when the worst of the bombing hit.”
“Oh, you poor love,” she soothes, giving his hand a squeeze. “I expect a handsome lad like you has girls queuing up.”
The click of Tom’s lighter pulls their focus back to him, and he exhales a plume of smoke, staring intently at them both. “Do you fancy my wife?” He asks Billy, with a steely gaze.
Billy swallows thickly, eyes widening in panic as he opens and closes his mouth.
“It’s okay, Billy,” she says gently, “you don’t need to be shy.”
“Well…I hope you don’t mind me saying, Mrs…sorry…but I think you’re beautiful.”
This time it’s her turn to feel embarrassed, and she averts her gaze as she feels her skin grow warm.
“Yeah, she is beautiful isn’t she? Would you like to kiss her?” Tom asks, lifting his glass and taking a deep drink from it, his eyes never leaving Billy.
Her head snaps up, looking at her husband with wide eyed shock.
Why is he asking that?!
“Tommy…” she says hesitantly, an edge of warning in her tone.
“It’s fine, love,” he takes another drag of his cigarette, settling further into the armchair, observing the both of them. “Go on, kiss her.”
Returning her attention to Billy, he’s shuffled closer, looking at her questioningly.
“Is…is this okay?” He whispers, leaning in.
She nods, closing the gap and her lips meet his. He is hesitant at first. His kisses are not as forceful as Tom’s, his lips are softer. As she reaches up to cup his cheek, he seems to grow more confident, applying more pressure, a quiet hum of approval rumbling in his throat. It makes her core throb to be desired like this.
When they finally part for air, she is breathless and flustered. She looks straight to Tom. He sits, watching them casually, fingers wrapped around his glass in one hand, propped on the arm of the chair, his cigarette burning low between his forefingers in the other.
“Do you wanna touch her?” He asks Billy, a low, darkened edge to his voice.
“Yeah…yeah, I do,” Billy answers, sounding more poised than he had just moments before.
“Go on then,” Tom instructs, “brush your thumb over her nipple, she likes that.”
She gasps softly as Billy leans in again, capturing her lips with his own once more. A quiet moan escapes her as she feels his hand tentatively slip into the opening of her robe, his thumb swiping gently over the lace of her brassiere.
He is not as self assured as Tom, Billy’s touch is featherlight by comparison, but it’s been so long since someone has paid this kind of attention to her that she responds to it just the same. She arches against Billy, her tongue slipping into his mouth as she hears his cap drop to the carpet with a soft thud.
“You can fuck her, if you want to,” Tom rasps, and she glances over at him, as Billy’s desperate kisses move down her neck. His blue eyes are still dark, she’s no longer able to tell if it’s from anger or arousal, the two states look much the same when he wears them.
There’s a part of her mind that’s screaming at her that this is wrong, that they should stop. However, if this is what it takes to get Tom to notice her again, then she’ll do it, and selfishly she’s enjoying how it feels.
Billy pushes her back, and she goes willingly. “Are you sure this is okay?” He whispers, his voice betraying his nerves.
She nods, untying and opening her robe, to reveal the lacy lingerie set she wears beneath.
Billy draws in a sharp inhale, before hurriedly unfastening his belt and unzipping his trousers with shaky hands.
He freezes, looking at Tom. “I…I don’t have a sheath.”
“Don’t need one,” Tom replies nonchalantly, crushing his cigarette butt out in the ashtray. “Best not keep her waiting.”
She pulls the gusset of her knickers to one side as Billy hovers over her. She can feel she’s soaked already. Billy is not quite as girthy as Tom, but still an impressive size that causes her breath to catch in her throat as he starts to press inside.
Tom chuckles quietly from where he sits. “She’s tight, isn’t she? Tightest little pussy I’ve ever had. Go careful.”
His words cause her to ache with want, and she moans wantonly as Billy bottoms out with a grunt. He’s gentle, much more so than Tom would be, slowly withdrawing before pushing back in, a dusting of pink prominent across his cheekbones.
“You won’t break her,” Tom tells him, “can just imagine how wet and warm she feels. Fuck her harder, and wrap one of her legs around you. She goes mad for that.”
She cries out, white hot sparks of pleasure swirling in her gut as Billy does as he’s told, the shallow pants of his breath puffing hotly against the side of her face.
Turning her head, she looks at her husband and he smirks, eyes raking over the scene before him as Billy continues to rut into her.
“T–Tommy…” she moans.
With each push of Billy’s hips into hers, she can feel her climax building, she’s right on the precipice, but it seems Billy is too. He tenses, a groan escaping him.
“Don’t you dare come inside her,” snaps Tom.
As if on cue, Billy pulls out, making her whine at the loss, coating her thighs in his hot spend as his jaw slackens and his brow furrows.
Before she’s had a chance to recover, Tom is rising from his seat towards the bed. “You can go now,” he tells Billy.
Still struggling to catch his breath, Billy nods, clambering off of her and fastening his trousers and belt back up. He stoops to pick up his cap, before hurrying towards the door, followed by Tom.
She lays there, dumbfounded and breathless, through glassy eyes she watches Tom hand Billy a bank note. “You’ll not tell anyone about this, d’you understand?”
“Y–yes, sir.”
She hears the door click closed, and Tom walks back over to the bed. His pupils are blown wide with lust and it sends a shiver through her.
“Enjoy yourself, love?” He asks, grabbing her thighs and tugging her towards the edge of the mattress, making her squeal.
“Are you angry with me?” She asks quietly, feeling shame bloom heavily within her chest.
“No,” he says distractedly, attention focused on her core. His thumb swipes through the stickiness that’s been left on her thigh, spreading it slowly over her skin. “No, I’m not angry.”
“You’ve been so absent lately,” she says sadly, propping herself up on her elbows. “Just wanted your attention.”
He straightens, nodding in understanding. “Yeah, I get it. I’ve been neglecting you, and that’s my fault. But don’t worry, I won’t anymore. Now–”
She clenches around nothing as his hands move to his belt, and she hears the metallic clink of it opening. “Now you have my full attention, and I’m gonna make sure you get all of it.”
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thought--bubble · 4 months
Text
But You can Show Me? (One-Shot)
Billy Taylor X (Hotel Guest Reader)
Warnings after the cut
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Billy Taylor Master List
Full Master List
Banners by @arcielee
A/N: I have been holding onto this one in my drafts forever, the absolute filth in this had me hesitant to post 🤣 but alas time to release some more Billy Taylor into the world!
Warnings: Cheating, unprotected sex, smut, corruption kink (if you blink). (I suck at warnings, so if you think I should add something, please tell me!)
Why are all men so disgusting!
That thought has been playing in your head on a loop for the past two days. Since you caught your husband deep in the throws of passion with her. His secretary.
Your husband was supposed to be the love of your life. Your fairytale ending. You were supposed to fill your home with a cacophony of the laughs of children and declarations of undying love and devotion.
A farce. That is what it had been. Something entirely made up in your head. Unfortunately, you were the last one to figure that out.He hadn't even looked guilty when caught. Just annoyed as if you should have had the respect to wait until he was finished to question him about his actions.
Two days staying at a friend's house was long enough. You were thrilled to be spending your husband's hard earned money to stay at a fancy hotel while you figured out a way to get yourself out of this marriage without becoming destitute. He hadn't chased you down. No begging for you to come home. No promises that it wouldn't repeat. Just a "take some time to yourself" and a wave of his hand. Thank God for small kindnesses.
You step out of the town car that your husband paid to bring you here. Your black hair is curled to your shoulders. You wore your cutest cocktail dress. Black with red trimmings. Head held high. You step forward and take a look at the hotel. Big, fancy, just what you deserve after what you've been through.
Two bellboys meet you out front and introduce themselves as Billy and Derek.
Derek lifts your suitcase while Billy takes care of the hotel introduction.
"Hello, Miss, welcome to the Halycon hotel. My name is Billy, and I will be showing you to your room. " he stumbles over his words a little bit, making you smile. It's obvious he is making his best effort to follow the script given to him by hotel management.
"Thank you very much, Billy."
Billy brings you to the check-in counter.
"Room key for -" Billy scratches his chin and then flushes in embarrassment when he realizes he forgot to ask the guests name. He turns back to you, cheeks flushed bright red.
"Umm, M-miss. What is the name for the R-reservation?"
You tell him your name and get your room key heading to the lift.
As you get into the lift, Billy takes your bag from Derek and waves him off. You can tell billy is incredibly nervous. It's endearing.
"So how long will you be staying with us miss?" He asks voice squeaking at the end of the last word.
"Not quite sure yet," you smile at him, and you see a faint blush paint his cheeks.
As the lift reaches your floor, Billy puts his hand out as if keeping the lift door from closing on you as you step out.
You step to the side and wait for Billy to lead you to your room. He struggles a bit with your suitcase, and you stifle a giggle.
"Room 308" Billy stops in front of the door.
"Thank you, Billy." You open the door with your key, and he carries your luggage in.
"Just there is fine" Billy puts down your suitcase and rubs his palms on his trousers.
"Hold on one moment," you say as you start to fish around your purse, looking for some money for his tip.
"Oh that's ok you don't need to give me anything" he says nervously
"It will take just a moment. I know I have something in here," you continue fishing around. "How old are you, Billy?" You ask while continuing to dig through your bag.
"18. Just waiting on my draft papers now" he says proudly.
"Oh, is that right? I feel safer already knowing such a strong kind young man will be out there keeping us safe, " you smile finally, finding some money in your bag. You hand him a little cash and smile.
"Oh..... ummm.... thank you very much, miss, " he says with another flush of red covering his cheeks.
"Oh, I have one more thing for you," you say as you walk over to him and place a soft kiss on his cheek. His body goes rigid, and his face turns a dark red. Even the tips of his ears are red now.
Billy clears his throat, nods, and skates out of the room as quickly as he can.
You quickly unpack, making yourself comfortable in the room, trying not to stay in your thoughts.
You have a meeting with a solicitor in the morning hoping to find a way out of your failed marriage, and your stress level is through the roof.
In the evening, you decide to go out and bring dinner back. The thought of sitting alone in a restaurant is mortifying to you.
As you walk back into the hotel, you spot the adorable bell boy from this morning hat off looking like he must be getting ready to head out for the day.
"Hi Billy," you say as sweetly as possible as you pass by him on your way towards the lift.
"Oh... em hello miss" he says with that familiar blush highlighting his cheeks.
You tell yourself you should end it there. Keep walking up to your room with your lonely dinner and sit around in self-pity. Is that what you actually do? No.
"Did you get your draft papers?" You look at him expectantly.
"Oh, ummm, not yet. Sure, it will be soon. " he half mumbles half stutters.
You scramble around in your head, trying to think up a way to keep the conversation going but draw a blank.
"Oh. Ok then. You have a nice night, Billy. " Your voice is gentle with a hint of sadness as you continue on your way to the lift.
"Oh miss!" Billy follows after you. "A-are you alright?" His brows furrow slightly.
"Oh yes, I'm ok," you say with a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "Just off to have supper," you hold up your bag of food.
"Alone?" Billy asks immediately, regretting he had asked "Oh that's none of my business miss. I apologize truly"
"Oh no, it's quite alright Billy, yes supper is a solitary activity for me as of late"
"If you fancy some company, I could sit with ya for a bit. I've got some time?" He sounds entirely unsure of himself, but you got to hand it to the guy. That was brave.
"Oh... sure I wouldn't mind the company. " You smile sweetly at him.
The two of you walk back to your room in silence. Both of you too nervous to say much.
When you get into the room, you sit down at the small table and set up your food.
"So Billy, tell me a bit about yourself?"
"Oh.. ummm...... erm....me? Not much to tell miss." He cheeks are starting to flush as his eyes dart around the room.
"I'm sure that isn't true....... is there a particular station you are hoping to get when your draft letter comes?"
"Oh...oh! Yes. Yes, miss.... I hope to be where the action is." He smiles with pride
"But won't your family and your girl be so worried?" You say as you pick at your food.
His face flushes bright red again. " oh....um...oh I've got no girl, miss..." he looks away awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Now your face starts to flush. You thought for sure a sweet boy like this would be matched up with an equally sweet girl. " Oh?..... That's...... that's quite a shock, if I'm honest"
His face is beat red now, and his grin is so wide that you're sure it must be slightly uncomfortable."w-w-why is t-that miss?" He looks over at you with puppy dog eyes.
'Oh boy. This is dangerous.' You think to yourself.
"It's just...." You look at him with mischievous eyes. " You are such a handsome young man. I'm just shocked a lady hasn't snatched you up yet"
His face is so red at this point that you're convinced it must be burning up. "Oh" he says quietly.
You move your chair over so you are facing him without the table between you. He starts breathing a bit faster while fidgeting with his bellboy cap in his lap.
"What are you so red for?" You say teasing.
"Oh miss, I'm not... no, " he says, touching his cheeks, no doubt feeling how hot his face has gotten.
You put your fingers under his chin and lift his head so he is eye level with you.
His breath catches in his throat, and he makes a slight coughing sound.
"Ummm miss? What is happening here?" He looks so lost and excited.
"Why did you want to come to my room with me?" You ask while gently rubbing your thumb on his chin.
" i-i-I.. what?" He asks entirely flustered.
"What made you want to come up here and be all alone with little. Old. Me." You tap his nose three times.
"Well.. i...i...umm.." he whimpers and looks at you helplessly at a complete loss for words.
"Maybe you were looking for a kiss?" You lean in towards him
His eyes go wide, and he stiffens. He opens his mouth as if he is going to speak, but all that comes out is a squeak.
"May I give you a kiss, Billy?" You say leaning in even closer
He nods furiously, his face becoming ever redder
You stand out of your chair and lean down a place a chaste kiss on his lips. You sit back in your seat and smile as you watch him he has a huge smile on his face and has yet to reopen his eyes.
"Billy?"
"Hmmmm?" He hums with his eyes still closed
You giggle "you can open your eyes now"
"No" he chuckles " not yet"
"But you'll miss what I do next," you say seductively as you move toward him.
His eyes fly open. "n-next?"
"What have you......done....with a woman up to this point Billy?" You ask eyes locked on his
"D-done? Lots of stuff, a course, " he answers with genuine confusion, and this basically answers your question.
'Do I really want to be the one to corrupt this seemingly angelic young man?' You think to yourself. As you mull this thought over your eyes, don't leave his, and you can see the gears turning in his head as he makes sense of what you asked him, and you can see the moment where the pieces fall into place.
"Oh... wow, miss." His face turns bright red again.
You sit back in your chair, and he picks up on your hesitation right away.
He scrambles out of his chair and onto his knees in front of you.
"Not much at all, miss. Not much at all... but....but.... but you can show me?" He looks up at you all eagerness and beautiful blue eyes.
'Call me the devil' you think to yourself as you slip out of your chair and onto your knees with Billy.
You grab him by the cheeks and pull his face towards yours as he shuffles closer towards you on his knees.
You press your lips against his, and he eagerly tries to kiss you back he's a bit over excited, and his kiss is sloppy, but this serves to excite you more as you smile into the kiss.
You nibble his bottom lip as he whimpers, and he does the same back to you.
You pull back and smile at him, his face is flushed, and his eyes are almost all pupil.
"Let's get a bit more comfortable, yeah?" You ask as you get up and reach your hand out to him.
He nods as he stands up, following you over to the bed like he is in a daze.
You sit on the edge of the bed and take your shoes off .
"C'mere," you pat the bed beside you. Billy sinks down next to you, breathing fast and fingers twitching.
You lean in close to his ear and whisper, "No shoes on the bed." You then crawl up onto the bed as he tries to get his shoes off as quickly as possible.
You lay back and motion for him to join you. He turns and crawls towards you on his hands and knees. You grab him by his collar, pulling him over you, slotting him between your legs.
He looks down on you, his body slightly shaking.
You start to unbutton his jacket, and he loses patience plucking the buttons quickly and tossing the jacket to the floor. Once it's off he looks down at you smiling as if awaiting further instruction.
You grab his cheeks and pull him down to you, kissing him gently. He kisses back with passion, grabbing the sides of your face and pressing his lips to yours harshly.
"Billy...... take your time, love." You giggle as he presses his forehead to yours.
"Sorry, miss. Got a little caught up in it, is all. " he brings his face down to yours and starts to kiss you this time calmly but still with purpose. He pushes his tongue against your lips, and you open your mouth, enjoying the sensuality.
"You're a quick study," you say as he pulls his face back to breathe.
His cheeks tinge pink again as he goes to kiss you again.
"Let's get these off first," you say, tugging at his waistband. That is all you needed to say. Billy had his trousers off so fast that you thought he very well may have just torn them from his body.
You slide your panties off as Billy crawls back toward you, his eyes like dinnerplates as he watches.
You pull the skirts of your dress up to your hips.
"C'mere" you reach out toward him.
He crawls back over to you, retaking his previous position between your thighs. There is noticeably less fabric separating you two as he lowers himself back on top of you.
The two of you begin to devour each other. He holds your cheek with one hand and your hip with the other. His body slightly shivering as he pushes himself up against your core, the fabric of his boxers, the only thing separating your flesh.
He whimpers as he presses up against you harder and harder, desperate for friction.
"Take them off," you whisper to him
He quickly shoves his boxers down his legs and yanks them off his feet, tossing them to the floor.
"I ummm.... I don't.....ummmm.... have anything with me, " he says nervously as he bites his lower lip.
"That's ok." You were too far gone to care at this point, and judging by his response, so was he.
He pushes himself into your heat slowly as he whimpers.
"Are you ok? Is this ok?" He grips your hip tightly as he continues pushing himself in slowly
" Perfect, sweet Billy," you coo. You were all too aware this was going to be a very quick affair but you wanted it anyway.
Billy bottoms out and doesn't move. He just hovers over you, holding his weight on his elbow, his other hand grasping your hip eyes closed with his bottom lip between his teeth.
You gently trace his jawline with your fingertips, making him shudder.
"I don't think...." he groans." I don't think I can move"
"Shhhh," you pull his face back down to yours and kiss him deeply and slowly. He starts to calm as he slowly starts to drag himself out of you before slowly pushing himself back in.
Just as you suspected, this was short-lived. Billy starts to move himself in and out of you a bit faster, pressing his entire body against yours as he whimpers into your ear.
"Thank you, oh gods, thank you." Just as you feel that band in your lower stomach tightening, Billy reaches his end with a loud groan. He collapses on top of you, his head on your chest, breathing heavily.
"Oh my. Im so sorry...... I didn't mean....oh boy"
You chuckle and kiss his forehead
"Let me show you one more thing," you say seductively. There is no way this man is leaving this room just yet.
He rolls off of you and looks at you quizzically.
You take his long slender hand and bring it to your bud and start to move it in circular motions, applying just the right amount of pressure.
" j-j-just there," you moan out. You lean over and start to kiss him again. The kiss is sloppy and dirty. Billy slides his hands down to your slick folds and gathers some of the mixture of his seed and your wetness and brings it up to your bud, resuming the circular motion you had shown him.
"Ohhh God. Oh god!" Hot waves of pleasure shoot through your entire frame as your body cleches tight. Billy watches on in awe.
You lay back and chuckle.
"Like I said quick study" you say in between labored breaths.
"Too quick....." he says rolling back on top of you.
"Think I need a bit more studyin, ya know. Make sure I got it down"
You chuckle as he moves in for another kiss.
"Just call me the devil"
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bloodynereid · 1 year
Note
hey i was wondering if you could write a warren rojas x reader fic where the reader is an absolute rockstar and what their relationship would be like since they’re two musicians dating one another while living with the six
i love ur writing
tyyy 💕💕💕
Rhythm of Our Love
pairing: warren rojas/rhodes x fem! reader
a/n: hi! tysm for ur request and hopefully I fulfilled it the best I could. also u didn't specify if you wanted fem or gender neutral reader so i kind of just went with fem if that's okay. also this fic kind of ran away from me so I guess you just get to spend 5.3k words falling more in love with warren (I personally like longer fics). oh and there's a lot of billy bashing in this, which wasn't really intentional but yk it happens. oh and btw i hadn't watched the new episodes yet when i wrote this so this is really just mixed with some book events so book spoilers (!!) - reader is kind of like female pete if that makes sense
tw: drug mentions (mescaline, weed, pills), addiction mentions, billy bashing (don't know if that qualifies as a warning lmao), swearing, cigarette smoking, mentions of cheating (billy and camila - not warren + reader)
description: the rise to fame of a band and the love story between the drummer and bassist that accompanies it.
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Y/N (bassist for Daisy Jones & The Six): Is this on? Yeah okay right. So where do you want me to start? The beginning. Geez okay let’s start at the beginning then.
You grew up living next to the Dunne brothers and ended up taking up bass after listening to Queen and The Beatles. John Deacon and Paul McCartney made those songs what they were and you were proud to be able to play something similar to them. So it was only natural that you ended up joining the Dunne brothers after Graham accidentally heard you playing one summer night.
Y/N: God I can remember the first time I played with them so clearly. They had become a pretty established band in Hazelwood but Chuck had quit, wanting to go to dental school or some shit like that, so they were going to give the bass part to Eddie, until Graham found me.
Eddie: Y/N was a lifesaver. I would have to play bass if Graham hadn’t gotten her to join. Plus she was one of the best things that could have happened to the band.
It was a chilly night but you rocked up to your neighbor’s garage wearing a pair of flared jeans and a butterfly top. Your bass slung over your shoulder and a cigarette between your lips. 
Warren: Y/N was a total rockstar from the beginning. And the way she carried herself that night, man, she was the most attractive woman I had ever seen.
“So are we ready to get this show on the road? I’ve been working on the sheets that Graham gave me yesterday.” You said as you entered the small room where all the boys were already tuning up and Warren was playing a random rhythm on the drums.
“We’re opening for the Winters in two days. Make sure you aren’t still ‘working’ on those sheets.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” You gave him a little salute whilst rolling your eyes which learned a few laughs from the group and a frown from Billy.
“Whatever, let’s just get this going.”
Graham: Billy was an asshole when he first met Y/N. Similar to how he was with Daisy, but he knew we needed her. 
Eddie: Y/N handled Billy better than I think anyone ever has. She met his challenges with blunt sarcasm and humor. Anyone who could deal with his bullshit made an instant friend with me.
Warren: I don’t think she knew how hot I found her at that moment.
Y/N: I knew. I mean I had been harboring a little crush on Warren since middle school. I wanted to impress him and I would say I succeeded.
Warren: She had a crush on me in MIDDLE SCHOOL? If I had known that it would have made things a hell of a lot easier.
Y/N: Fast-forward two days, came the night that changed everything. I mean my first gig was the time we opened for the Winters. My fingers were cramping and I had a horrible backache from the amount of practice I had been doing. On a plus side I got to meet Camila. She was just… incredible. God knows that Billy doesn’t deserve that wonderful woman at all.
You were running on a total of 2 hours of sleep. The past two nights had been spent practicing the pieces over and over again by yourself. And then the days were filled with practice with the boys. The band needed this to be perfect and you understood the weight of that completely. You were a rockstar. You were meant for this. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself as you walked into the performing area, staring wide eyed at the space.
Y/N: All I was thinking was: “You better not fuck this up.” That was the night we also met Karen. Karen Karen, my soon to be best friend. She was the keyboardist for The Winters and let’s just say Graham fell in love at first sight.
Right before we were about to go on stage a sudden crushing feeling started to encompass your chest. You were actually going to do this. Oh fuck.
Warren: I could tell she was having a freakout. I mean if it was my first time playing with a new band AND I had only had 2 days to practice I would have been hyperventilating. So I went up to her.
“What’s your favorite fruit?” That silky voice brought you out of your spiral with the most absurd question that had ever been uttered.
“Uh what?”
“What’s your favorite fruit? Mine personally are strawberries.”
“Oh umm I don’t know, I kind of like Y/F/F (your favorite fruit).”
“Cool, you good?” That was when you realized what he had done. You sent Warren a blinding smile and leaned to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Yeah thanks I owe you one.”
Warren: Call me a sap or whatever but I can still feel that kiss. I treasured that for a long time. Anyways, she was incredible that night. 
Y/N: There was like this electrifying feeling of being on stage and playing to all those people. I wanted to feel like that forever. Maybe it was also pure exhaustion but I swear it felt like I was on a high.
Billy: She played really well, I mean for a person who had two days of practice.
Y/N: We met Rod Reyes after our set. The man was a douchebag but he planted that LA dream in all of us. I was probably too exhausted to have been making decisions of that kind but…
“If you all will have me, I say fuck it let’s go to LA!”
“Let’s go to LA!”
Y/N: None of us stayed for the Camila and Billy drama, so Warren dropped me off last. We smoked weed for a while. We talked about all that weird philosophical shit that you talk about when high. Then I crashed for a few hours.
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It was raining buckets. You pulled up in your dad’s car outside of Warren’s house. You had those weirdly unattached parents who really didn’t give a damn about what you did. They already had their hopes pinned on your older brothers so when you asked if you could move to LA, your parents couldn’t have helped you pack up faster.
“Bye dad.”
“Bye sweetheart. Don’t forget your bass.” He gave you an uncomfortable hug before passing your last suitcase filled with small remnants of your life.
“Hey Mr. L/N. I can take that.”
“Thanks Graham.” He quickly put up your few suitcases on the roof and you waved at your dad as he disappeared into the blankets of rain.
“Ready?”
“Definitely.” Warren helped you into the van and you got situated in a comfortable spot. You lit up one of your cigarettes and opened up the pages of your slightly damp book, waiting for a while until finally everything seemed ready to go. Well not everything.
“Got room for one more?” Camila got into the van and sent you a little smile before cosying up next to Billy.
Y/N: That road trip was one of those things that was both horrible and incredible at the same time. But when we got to LA man wow it was like we were transported and then we met Rod Reyes, again. He was such an asshole but at least we finally had some gigs lined up and a house, but calling it that might actually be a bit generous. 
Warren: Graham insisted we kept the haunted room for Karen. And obviously Billy and Camila got a room. Which meant Y/N was either stuck on the couch or rooming with one of us. And… Graham and Eddie already called the bunks.
“This is so fucking unfair! Why does your non-existent girlfriend get a room and I don’t?”
“She’s not my girlfriend!”
“Fuck you Graham. Where the fuck am I meant to sleep then huh?”
“Uh well Eddie and I are sharing the bunks.”
Y/N: It was like a really bad romance movie.
“You have got to be kidding me! Did any of you even think to count the rooms in this house?”
“Guys just shut the fuck up. Y/N you’re going to sleep in Warren’s room and that’s final. You’re all acting like children.”
Y/N: That was also one of the many times that Camila basically acted like our mother, in a good way.
“You know what, fine! I hope you’re happy Graham.” You said as you slammed the door to your new room and unpacked in a furious hurry. 
Warren: There was a king sized bed that took up basically the entirety of our room. Honestly it was one of the worst rooms in the house, but at least it wasn’t haunted! 
Y/N: Warren wanted to take the floor but if you saw that room you would know that the floor basically consisted of like a slab of wood. The closet and the bed took up the entire space and then there was this huge window. It didn’t even have curtains! Whoever designed that room was an idiot. But we didn’t have the money for anything else.
Warren: I tried to be a gentleman about it but like I would never have been able to sleep on the floor and I wasn’t sleeping outside.
Y/N: Not going to lie after that first night I was kind of grateful to Graham. Don’t tell him I said that though. Anyways we played so many gigs and were getting nowhere. And we were slowly running out of money. Oh and Karen did end up joining the band and she got the room.
You were all seated in some random diner with Camila counting out all the money you had gotten from gigs and your little part-time job working at a movie theater. On your side of the table sat Karen, Warren, you and then Eddie.
“Why are we still called the Dunne brothers, anyway?” That ended up sparking up a rather loud discussion of our side of the table against Billy. You rolled your eyes and leaned your head on Warren’s shoulder. You could see his stupid smile as he looked down at you so you just poked him in the ribs and he laughed.
“I for one am for changing the name.” You said as you took a drag of your cigarette, adding to the already thick cloud of smoke that surrounded the band.
“You see, Billy, basically the entire band is against you on this one.”
“No, no. The band name is what gives us credibility if we change it then all of our reputation goes out of the window.”
“Oh our Pittsburgh reputation really? Or maybe the reputation of not being able to get good gigs.” You barked back at the already angry man which made Eddie send you a grateful smile.
Then came the barrage of horrible name ideas, including one from Warren that made you look up at him from his shoulder in confusion and slight disgust.
“Look okay, the seven of us will never agree on the name.” That’s when it came to you.
“What about The Six?”
“Huh?” Everyone turned to you as you sat up and took a sip of Warren’s coffee.
“I mean no offense Camila but you aren’t technically part of the band so there’s six of us. We can be called The Six. The Five is used too much and The Seven sounds like way too many members so how about The Six?”
“You know what, I like it.”
“Me too.”
Y/N: So we had a shiny new band name, my relationship with Warren had gone from band mates to really good friends. And no I don’t mean that in an innuendo way but you get really close to someone you have to share a bed with every night. We had some good nights.
Warren: I always thought that Y/N would end up moving in with Karen after she joined but she didn’t. I think she knew that that room was haunted.
“So who do you think the most attractive person in the band is?” You and Warren were lying on the bed in a drug addled haze after taking some mushrooms he had gotten from one of his hippie friends.
“Huh?” You sluggishly turned to look at his face, finding that his eyes were already on you.
“Who do you think is the most attractive in the band?”
“Hmm I don’t know.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I mean Graham and Billy aren’t my type. Eddie is hopelessly in love with Camila-”
“Wait what?”
“Dude are you blind?”
“No? I mean I know Graham likes Karen but she doesn’t like him.”
“That is like the most obvious observation I have ever heard.”
“Hey! So that just leaves… Camila, Karen and me. Wait, is Camila the person who you find most attractive? I’m not judging if she is.”
“I can’t lie she’s really pretty and Karen is absolutely stunning but no not the person I find most attractive.”
“Me?”
“Yes dumbass. Now it’s your turn to answer the question.”
“Oh that’s easy, you obviously.” You smiled bashfully at him as his mischievous smirk grew.
“You are too charming for your own good.”
“I could say the same thing about you.” That was when you both fell silent. Maybe it was the confidence the drugs gave you but you quickly gave him a kiss before backing away.
“You like me back?”
“Obviously you dumbass, I've liked you for ages. Why do you think I’ve been cuddling with you for the past few months? I don’t do that with every single person I know.”
“I don’t know.”
“Just shut up and kiss me again.”
Y/N: As I said, a really cheesy romance movie. But I found Warren and we fit like puzzle pieces.
Warren: We were high on shrooms when she kissed me. We didn’t do much else that night, other than kissing and then sleeping.
Y/N: I may have loved Warren but we weren’t sleeping together until I knew he was serious. I had seen him with the small amount of groupies that we had. I’m not a jealous woman but that right there boiled my very core.
Warren: I stopped hanging out with the groupies after that night. Y/N became the light of my life, I wasn’t going to ruin the only good thing going for me that wasn’t the band.
Y/N: Then Billy convinced Teddy Price to listen to one of our songs. I have no idea how he did it. The next few months after that song were the most anxiety I had ever experienced but they were also the happiest. I was doing what I loved and I was doing it with the person I loved. Then we got to record the album. 
Karen: Y/N and Warren went official a few weeks before we got the album deal. They were the most obnoxiously cute couple I had ever been around. And they complemented each other incredibly well.
Graham: Honestly I take it as full credit to my genius that those two first got together.
Camila: Oh Y/N and Warren… god they were one of those strangely healthy couples. They were living the life, they had each other, the band and the drugs. They were insanely happy together.
Y/N: We were going to go on tour! That was huge for us and for me. A few days before we went though, Camila told us she was pregnant. They got married that night.
Warren: The wedding? Oh I don’t remember it that much. Mescaline… well it’s a powerful drug.
Y/N: Did Warren tell you we were on mescaline the entire night? Yeah. God, I wish I had been more present in that moment but we truly were having the time of our lives. Camila being pregnant also put things into perspective for us. Protection wasn’t a big thing in the 70s but I had been taking birth control after I read a few books. I wasn’t taking any chances. 
Warren: Yeah we had a deep discussion about that. I think that was one of the many times where I realized how shit it was to be a woman of that time. I supported whatever she wanted to do fully.
Y/N: We went on tour. It was fine. Billy was an asshole but he went off the rails. I mean Warren and I were a bit out of control cause you know… fame. But Billy, he went hard on all the drugs and the groupies.
Warren: We were there to have a good time but I also recognized something in Billy that I never wanted to be. I stayed away from the hard drugs and sure we hung out with groupies but I would never betray Y/N like that.
Y/N: Then Camila arrived, heavily pregnant and she found Billy getting it on with some groupie. Fuck, I really tried to call her but you never want to hurt someone like that you know. Fast forward a few shows and well we found out Camila had given birth. Teddy put Billy in a rehab center. We cut the tour short and that fucked it up with the label. I think it also made me realize how incredibly lucky I was to have found Warren.
Warren: The next few months the band was idle. Y/N and I did a ton of mushrooms and we helped babysit Julia. It was actually really nice and domestic.
Y/N: I was bored out of my mind. I wasn’t suited for an idle lifestyle. When Billy decided to stop being an idiot and rejoined the band, things finally started to look up. And then we all met Daisy Jones.
“Why can’t we just have Karen or Y/N sing this stuff? If you want an edge we have that already.”
“Oh no way, Billy. I don’t sing, I’ll help with backing but that’s it.” You said as you stamped out your cigarette on the tray.
“I’m with Y/N. Plus I agree with Teddy, it will give us a new sound.” Billy stormed out of the room at that leaving you and the rest of the band to chuckle at his dramatics.
Y/N: We were all enraptured with her when she first walked into the studio. She was wearing a button down shirt and no pants. That made one hell of an entrance. And of course, Billy wasn’t pleased.
“Hi nice to meet you Daisy. I’m Y/N.” You said as she walked into the recording studio while Warren’s arm was secured around your shoulders.
“You too. Thank you all for having me.”
“You’re welcome.” Graham answered.
“Okay, let’s get this show on the road.” You and the rest of the band left the room and went into the production booth.
Y/N: She was incredible. Even if she did try to change up Billy’s song. Personally I always liked her version. After that recording session it all kind of blew up. Billy wanted to keep the song as it was and obviously he did that until Daisy showed up to one of our shows at The Whisky. We then headed out to our world tour, The Numbers tour as it was dubbed featuring Daisy Jones.
Warren: We were making money, a ton of money at that. Sold out shows everywhere we went.
Y/N: I’m pretty sure that was the tour that Karen and Graham started hooking up. Warren didn’t believe me, he had his own theories. Like he thought Bones, our lighting guy… *cue you breaking out into laughter*, sorry sorry, but geez yeah Warren was honestly the most clueless guy I had ever met and I loved him for it. Then came the show for Rolling Stone, that was an incredible show but Eddie… that man had basically become my brother at that point. What Billy did was one of the worst things he could have ever done to him.
Eddie: I couldn’t take it anymore so I had to do something.
Y/N: I understood why he smashed that guitar. I would have done the same thing. But my bass was also something I had basically built all by myself. I wasn’t going to hurt my baby.
After all of the drama, you quickly made your way over to Eddie before Jonah Berg came down. A cup of water in hand and a cigarette dangling from your lips. 
“Ed?” You walked up next to your best friend and gave him a little shoulder nudge.
“Oh hey Y/N.” His voice sounded thick with underlying rage. One that you recognized all too well.
“I’m really fucking sorry.” And you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.
Y/N: When you spend a long time around someone you kind of learn their tells. Warren and I were incredibly good at reading each other. And I was just incredibly similar to Eddie, so I knew how to help him… we both have really horrible tempers. Warren and the drugs had been helping but Eddie didn’t have a Warren.
Eddie: What Y/N did after that show… she knew I didn’t want to talk about it. She became my sister at that moment.
Y/N: I think Warren and I should have probably stopped Daisy. But we were sort of mooching off her stash. We promised each other to not go on the hard stuff but I think I was getting addicted.
Warren: Drugs were a normal thing in the 70s and we were having fun! But yeah I was feeling like I was starting to depend on pills.
Y/N: I was getting sloppy with my playing so I knew I needed to start weaning myself off it. We didn’t know much about addiction back then so it was hard to stop but we did the best we could. Well for one thing we didn’t go cold turkey.
Warren: When she told me, I understood her completely, I was feeling the effects of it too. We kind of talked through it a bunch and decided we should probably lay off the heavier psychedelics. Being rockstars meant you were down to have fun but if she wasn’t happy then I was going to try and remedy that.
Eddie: I think after the whole Glasgow thing I saw Y/N become more level headed. The same with Warren. I think they made some decision to get like moderately clean. They were still smoking pot and stuff but stopped with the pills and harder stuff.
Karen: I swear I thought they were either trying to get pregnant or Y/N already was. The fact that after that Rolling Stone interview they suddenly stopped taking anything stronger than weed is probably what made me suspicious.
Y/N: I ended up sitting next to Eddie for most of the flight back, leaving Warren to sleep. I think we were the only two band members that weren’t consulted about Daisy, but I honestly didn’t give a damn. It was nice to have another girl around and… I was probably feeling the withdrawal.
Warren: When we got back to LA, I bought a one-bedroom Gibson.
Y/N: Warren bought a boat and I bought a little house which has a boat dock, it was kind of like a perfect compromise. 
Warren: I kept my boat mostly at Y/N’s house but we occasionally went on little trips. Mostly we drank beers on it and spent nights at the house. Y/N took up sports for some reason but I wasn’t going to complain, she looked hot.
Y/N: Yeah, I took up surfing, boxing and got into soccer. I was still practicing bass daily but without the band getting together much that summer, Warren and I kind of just did whatever. We smoked a lot of weed too. We were moderately clean and we were happy but I think deep down we missed life on the road.
Warren: Neither of us were ones for settling down. That’s probably why Y/N got into sports and I bought that boat. Oh and Eddie was around a lot. At first I thought he was trying to get into Y/N’s pants or something but they have this weird bond that reminded me of how my sisters and I acted.
Eddie: I visited Y/N and Warren A LOT. I don’t think they minded me being there, I basically took up permanent residence in Y/N’s spare bedroom. Y/N and I actually wrote a lot of songs during those days and we both got into surfing. And the LA surf scene was something else but I was itching for the road and they were too. So when the call came in from Graham we were all ready to leave. 
Y/N: We got together in The Rainbow and that’s where everyone just started to talk about everything and what parts they wanted to play. I mean I was already writing my bass lines so I was fine in that department. Warren and I mostly stayed out of the conversation, just smoking and making little jokes.
Graham: I think this was one of the only times that Y/N was completely silent around Billy. I mean Warren and her had always been pretty independent but they seemed like they were in their own little world. Well that was at least until Eddie stepped in.
“Look I don’t want us to turn into some kind of pop group dynamic.”
“You know what I agree with Eddie.”
“Oh so you’re finally going to talk.”
“What the hell?! I didn’t have anything to contribute and was making it easier for you and now you’re getting mad at me for actually pitching in?”
Billy: Y/N and Eddie hated me. I don’t know what I ever did to them but they got on my nerves constantly.
Daisy: Y/N was a spitfire. Eddie and her kind of had this team dynamic that was based on ganging up on Billy. Not that he didn’t deserve it but there was always underlying tension.
Y/N: I never hated Billy. He just wasn’t someone I particularly liked. He thought the world revolved around him and he loved trying to be the boss. He never once listened to my ideas, even if I had been there from basically the beginning. Eddie and I were just getting fed up.
“Okay, everyone just calm down. Billy, Eddie does have a point.” Teddy Price was always the peacemaker in these things. You scoffed and leaned in closer to Warren who had taken to rubbing circles on your arm to calm you.
Y/N: We walked out of there with a new name: Daisy Jones & The Six. I guess you can call that the beginning of the end. While Daisy and Billy went off to compose, the rest of us worked on Aurora together. By the time we were going to play it for Billy I think it sounded pretty incredible but… he hated it. You could see the revulsion on his face but Teddy convinced him to keep it. Oh but Daisy loved it! I knew I liked her for a reason.
Warren: Daisy got on really well with Y/N and I during the entire time we made Aurora. We had that easy way of suggesting things for each other and giving feedback that we all followed.
Daisy: I wish I had a relationship like those two. They respected the other person in a way I had never seen before and they were so hopelessly in love with each other. I knew it was only a short time before they would get married. I was honestly jealous of what they had.
Y/N: I never went to one of Daisy’s infamous parties. Not because I didn’t want to but because I was happier. Which sounds really fucked up cause everyone else wasn’t doing that great around that time. I think the fact that I stopped taking drugs helped A LOT. Warren and I were enjoying life so you know we obviously took the next step. We got married.
Warren: We didn’t tell anyone we were getting married. And no one really knew until the band broke up.
Y/N: We got married in a little chapel on this hill near Long Beach. I refused to do a Vegas wedding even if we were eloping.
Warren: She was insanely beautiful that day. We both showed up in pretty casual wedding clothes.
Y/N: I was wearing a long sleeve all-white prairie dress that I had bought the day we decided to do it. It wasn’t my style at all.
Warren: We spent our honeymoon at our little house. And we didn’t answer the phone for like a solid four days. Good times.
Y/N: The band was freaking out by the time we came back to rehearsals on thursday. They thought we died or something.
Eddie: We thought they went on some kind of bender or disappeared into the horizon with Warren’s boat but no they arrived on thursday with these huge smiles and a new car.
Y/N: We extended the honeymoon after the band broke up. We went to Hawaii with Warren’s boat. I don’t think that was safe but we did it anyway.
Warren: Oh, the car. Did Eddie mention that? Yeah we put some of our money together and bought an Aston Martin. You know the James Bond car.
Y/N: We had some money left over from royalties and stuff so when we pooled it we had just enough to buy that car and start putting some more of it into retirement.
Warren: We still have that car. And we still live in that same house. And Y/N hasn’t made me sell the boat yet so we’re doing pretty good.
Interviewer: So how did the band react to you two getting married?
Y/N: Well, I told Eddie first. He obviously reacted as expected.
Eddie: I was happy for her but mad that she didn’t let me be at the wedding. Y/N made up for it though when she allowed me to officiate their vow renewal.
Graham: I found out a few weeks after the band broke up. I was obviously not doing well after all the Karen drama. But I went up to their house to see them and when I walked inside I saw the rings on their fingers and the rest is history. I got to be Warren’s best man at the vow renewal, I mean it was my entire genius that got them dating in the first place, it was the least they could do.
Karen: I knew when I met up with Y/N and Camila for drinks. She showed us the ring and honestly we were both very shocked.
Camila: I didn’t think she would go through with it but wow I couldn’t imagine a better match. When she asked us to be maids of honor for her wedding, I obviously accepted.
Daisy: I didn’t go to the vow renewal. Being around Billy was going to be a trigger and I knew that. But I still meet up with them a lot. Their kids love being around mine.
Billy: Yeah I was happy for them, sure. Camila told me after they went out for dinner I think.
Y/N and Warren Rojas live in that small house on the coast of LA with their three kids, Lily, Vivienne (Viv for short) and Javier. Y/N went on to be the bassist for many well-known artists like Kate Bush, Billy Idol and even worked with members of the Beatles. They are currently celebrating their 20 year anniversary, which was marked by a vow renewal a few months ago.
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this is very much self indulgent - i will be writing a bunch of angst next so prepare yourselves.
taglist: @pinkdaiisies @yesshewrites1 @lisbeth122605
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“His hand, so calloused from his pistol, softly traces hearts on my face”
-i can fix him (no really i can) Taylor Swift
THIS LINE IS SOOOOOOO BILLY CODED AGH. I CANT. THIS IS WHAT I WANT IN A MAN.
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anjelicawrites · 4 months
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We’ve got now in the throuples:
• Aemond Targaryen, Osferth and reader
• Michael Gavey, Billy Washington and reader
https://www.tumblr.com/valeskafics/736195229604036608/holiday-cheer-billy-taylor-x-reader-x
May we please have Billy Taylor, Tom Bennett and reader???
🥺🙏
First thing first: go read @valeskafics fic linked in the ask, if you haven't already, you'll thank me later!
Embracing my crossover polyships era, NSFW and 18+ under the cut!
Warnings: finering, p in v sex, overstimulation, kissing.
You wake up surrounded by warmth. Billy is still hugging your front, his face against your sternum, breathing your calming smell deeply, Tom is behind you, his long arm on your body, hand on Billy's side.
It's rare that the three of you manage to sleep, and wake up, together, your schedules are chaotic enough that, usually, one of you is coming back from work, or already getting dressed, while the other two are still asleep. For this reason you luxuriate in the warmth of your two lovers, of their smells mixing with yours as the sun filters through the curtains. You wish you three had the chance to bask like this every morning, not every once in while.
Slowly, careful not to wake them up, you put your hand on Tom's wrist and move your legs to entwine them better with your lovers' and lay where you are, listening to their breathings and the sounds of London waking up outside.
You've almost fallen asleep again, when Tom's lips kiss your nape, as light as a feather that you think you've imagined them, if not for his hips gently rubbing against your arse.
"Mmmh, good morning." You whisper, your ass following his movements teasingly. "Yes. Good morning to me, indeed." He drawls, his hand landing on your hip to control your movements. "Be good, Mr. Bennett." "But you like when I'm not behaving, doll."
You can feel his cock growing against your naked arse, fluids already leaking as he rubs himself against your skin.
"You'll wake Billy up. Let him sleep." You whisper, poor Billy was so tired yesterday that he needs all the sleep he can get! "Maybe, just maybe, he wants to be up for this."
His hand slowly travels to your cunt, his fingers finding your pearl, and Billy's soft cock nestled between your lips: it's not Tom's fault that, by teasing your clit, he does the same to Billy's cock head, right?
"Tom, Tom!" You whimper as the pleasure spreads through your body with every slow motion of Tom's fingers.
You're following Tom's movements, your hips moving slowly as Billy's cock swells between your lips, his eyelids slowly opening, soft sounds of pleasure escaping his lips, his body following yours even in his half asleep state, until he wakes up, babbling, hand grabbing your hip on instinct.
Billy stares at you as if you're a gift from God, as if seeing your naked skin is a miracle; he can't help it, ever since the first time you welcomed him in your bed, he stares at your body as if he can't believe you're his, that he can touch and kiss and make love to you until his body gives up. He doesn't realize his hips are moving, until pleasure explodes in his brain and he moans, eyes screwed shut, hand curling tighter on your hip.
You feel the pleasure pulsate in your cunt, its tendrils spreading through your nerves, your hand reaching backwards to grab Tom's short hair as wetness coats his fingers, your legs trying uselessly to close around his hand and Billy's fully hard cock, the dual feeling of your clit and lips being teased propelling you towards orgasm.
"Tom!" it's an high pitched whine. "Tom, I'm going, I'm going!" "I know doll." He growls in your ear, his own pleasure cresting. "Give it to me, you know you need to".
For a second you lose control of your body, the orgasm exploding inside of you like a white supernova that erases everything, your breath coming out in short puffs, your hole clenching around nothing, hungry for your lovers' cocks.
You don't truly realize what Tom is doing, until he maneuvers your leg over his, opening you up to his erection, and Billy's adoring gaze.
"Give us a hand here, will you?"
Tom's needy words break the spell Billy was under, his hand pushing the bed sheet out of the way, until your trembling body, and Tom's, are fully uncovered. Billy moans when he sees Tom's cock enter your cunt with a swift push, you're so wet and loose already, Billy can hear the squelch of your wetness. His fingers find your pearl, his forehead against yours as you pant and whine, your cunt still reeling from the previous orgasm, now is fucked open for your lovers to use, your muscles trying to curl around Tom's thick cock, only to be forced to accept his invasion.
Your hips move erratically, your brain torn between following the pleasure Tom and Billy are bestowing you and running away from them, body trapped, mewls of overstimulation escaping your lips, before your lovers invade your slack mouth, trapping you in their embrace.
Your nerves are singing, your whole body trembling violently, your cunt a fist around Tom's cock as he pushes violently against your spot, Billy's fingers slippery on your engorged clit, until you come, a scream of pleasure barely trapped by their lips on yours. Tom follows you, three vigorous thrusts and he spills with a grunt.
They hold you tight, you're trembling and crying, your screaming nerves winning over your sense of self.
It's Billy's gentle fingers drying your tears and Tom's lips on your nape, that help you come back to yourself, brain still muddled with pleasure, but not enough not to feel Billy's cock hard against your tummy.
"Will you have me?" He gently asks, like every time you're two making love, even though he knows he can have you whenever he wants, that you belong to him. "Yes, Billy." You moan your response.
You don't have to tell him to be gentle, that you're still coming down, he breaches you slowly, following your body and its signals, until you're flush against him, your legs around his slim hips, hands going to his hair.
His thrusts are slow and short, aiming at opening you up to his invasion, his lips are kissing your face as your body accepts him, his cock delicious against your tired walls as Tom's rough fingers play with your nipples, each pinch traveling to your clit, sparks of pleasure ignited by his actions and the grinding of Billy's pubic bone against your bundle of nerves.
Your eyes cross when Billy sheaths himself in fully, a long moan escapes his lips at the way your walls are hugging his hard cock, his head against the rough patch inside of you that makes you whine and beg, your muscles an impossible hold around his manhood, your cunt feeling every inch of his cock.
"Come with me, please?" He manages to beg and you're not sure you can manage another orgasm. "Be good." Tom's fingers find your clit, the callous skin dragging deliciously. "One last time, doll, you can do it."
You whine and beg in their hold, your nerves screaming with pleasure and overstimulation, your cunt clenching desperately around Billy's cock, until the angle is perfect and you come, taking your lover with you.
All you can feel his your lovers' skin on yours and the smell of sex in the bedroom. Billy's face finds refuge again against your chest, your smell the only thing that keeps the nightmares at bay. Behind you, the rustling of the bed sheets as Tom covers you three again, long arm aiming to hug the two of you.
"Go back to sleep." He murmurs against your ear. "It's awfully early to have breakfast."
Outside, London is already awake, in your small bedroom, you three fall back asleep, tired and happy.
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tomhiddleston · 8 months
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One More Tomorrow (Billy Taylor x Fem!Reader) - Chapter I.
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Summary: When a new guest checks in to The Halcyon, Billy looks for any excuse he can to get close to her.
Pairing: Billy Taylor x Fem!Reader (third person)
TW: pure unadulterated fluff, Billy being an idiot with a crush, some light swearing, this fic is basically a romantic comedy
Word Count: 5k+
A/N: I haven't written fic in ages so I hope you all enjoy my Billy Taylor brainrot!!! This is part one of a three-part miniseries I have planned... with potentially more to come if people want more? !!! Also, we're all gonna have to make peace with the fact that our nameless young lady has a surname, lol
Also, thanks to @valeskafics and @aegonx for reading this through for me!!!
Disclaimer: I do not own any The Halcyon characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are always appreciated!
Art deco dividers by @saradika
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Billy will always remember the first time he set foot in the lobby of The Halcyon. He’d come to work with his mum more than a handful of times over the years, especially when he was little. But, in those days, the only glimpse he got of what went on upstairs at the hotel was the silver serving trays that the waiters carried as they walked past his mum’s office. Seeing the lobby - the heart of the hotel - for the first time was like stepping into a different world. 
That was almost a year ago, now. Barely sixteen, with trembling fingers tugging at the high collar of his bellboy’s jacket. It was brand new and freshly pressed, so it had a stiffness to it that he wasn’t used to from the hand-me-downs that he usually got from his father. 
He followed Feldman up from the bowels of the hotel and through the door that had always been forbidden to him. What lay on the other side was something he could have only dreamt of. Towering columns carved from emerald green marble, glittering chandeliers, doorways trimmed with a rich, dark wood. The sweet smell of fresh flowers permeated the air. He wondered how it was possible for it to smell so strongly of flowers in a room so large. He reckoned his family’s entire house could fit inside the lobby four times over. 
The Halcyon was the most beautiful thing Billy had ever seen.
Until the day he sees her.
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May 1939.
His morning starts as it usually does. Quick cup of tea in the hotel kitchen. Dodge a kiss on the cheek from mum. Check on the hotel generator. Head upstairs to begin bringing down the luggage of the guests who are checking out. 
The dreary, painfully normal morning eventually turns into a rainy May afternoon. Billy’s shoes eventually become so waterlogged from escorting guests inside with an umbrella that he can feel his socks squeak against the leather with every step. He’s whinging about it to one of the doormen when Mr. Garland comes parading through the lobby towards the front doors with Mr. Feldman in toe. And if The Halcyon’s general manager and head concierge are preparing to greet a guest, then they must be someone important.
“Come on, then, Billy!” Feldman calls to him. “Fetch the umbrellas.”
Billy deflates a little, knowing that there’s little hope of his shoes drying any time soon. Still, he’s dutiful as ever and meets the other men at the front door with the still-damp umbrellas tucked under his arm. 
“Is his Lordship back in town?” Billy asks Feldman curiously. 
“No, Billy,” Mr. Garland answers instead. “It’s a new guest and one that we’re eager to impress. Mr. Tobias Greene, of Greene Automotive.”
Billy’s face lights up. “Greene Automotive? Oh, they’ve got the fastest cars on the market. Their new Model F’s got an eight-cylinder engine. Three hundred twenty horse power! It’s got a top speed of two hundred kilometers… an hour…” His voice trails off as he sees the look on Mr. Garland’s face. “What’s he coming here for? Their factory’s all the way in Birmingham.” 
Mr. Garland peers outside, looking for the arrival of their new guest’s car. “Something about setting up a corporate office here in London, I think. But it’s best not to pry, Billy. You know that. And please, no gushing to Mr. Greene about his cars.”
Billy nods and Feldman laughs at the disappointed look on the boy’s face. 
Mr. Greene’s car arrives at a very punctual three o’clock on the dot and the men step outside into the pouring rain to greet their new guest. Feldman is the one to open Mr. Greene’s door. Out steps a tall, dark-haired man with a thick mustache and shrewd brown eyes. The handshake he offers to Mr. Garland is firm but friendly. Billy can’t help but be a bit starstruck. 
“Come along, my dear,” Mr. Greene calls into the open car door. “Don’t make your father wait in the rain.”
A corgi jumps out of the car and into a puddle on the sidewalk, splashing water up the front of Billy’s grey trousers. Great. He barely has time to groan about it before he looks up and sees her. Mr. Greene’s daughter steps out of the car with the dog’s leash in her hand. It’s lucky that Billy is standing close enough that she is covered by the umbrella he’s holding because he’s frozen solid at the sight of her.  
If he was starstruck seeing her father, then he’s completely bowled over by her. She’s dressed in a beautiful fur-lined coat and has her hair done up in those curls that all the ladies are doing these days. Not a single strand is out of place. She looks like she’s just stepped off the set of a new picture or out of the pages of one of those magazines his mum reads. 
Her eyes meet his and it’s like he’s been struck by lightning. He wonders for a moment if his heart’s stopped beating. He sees her lips move but doesn’t hear what she says. How could he, when he’s so transfixed on her beauty? Plenty of good-looking women have walked through the lobby of The Halcyon, but not a single one of them could ever compare to her. 
Billy comes crashing down to earth again as the sound of the car door closing breaks him out of his trance. He’s not supposed to talk to the guests. Greeting them is Mr. Garland’s job. But he can’t help but squeak out a nervous “Welcome, my lady.”
She smiles in response and he melts. 
“Thank you.” Her voice is warm and sweet. Prettier than any melody. The little chuckle that leaves her is even lovelier. “But I’m no lady.”
Billy stumbles over his words, knowing that he’s mucked it up. His eyes widen and both hands move to grip onto the handle of the umbrella. “Y-yes, miss.” 
They all make it barely halfway to the front doors of the Halcyon when she turns to the car with a gasp. “Oh… my gloves. I left them in the car…” Her tone is pensive, more like she’s making a mental note not to forget them later than anything. 
But Billy, desperate to please her, springs into action without so much as a word. He’s at the car door in three long strides, only realizing that he’s left her standing in the torrential rain, umbrella-less, when Feldman snaps his name from atop the hotel steps. When he turns back, her suede gloves in hand, he sees her huddling for cover beneath the umbrella that Feldman is holding for her father.
He can almost feel the daggers in both Feldman and Mr. Garland’s eyes pierce through him, but then he sees the smile that creeps onto her lips. She’s drenched, the fur on her coat matted against her shoulders and her perfect hairdo ruined. But she’s smiling. 
When her lips part in a laugh, Billy knows he’s done for. Even if it’s him she’s laughing at, for being such a bloody twit, she’s laughing and he gets to hear it. If it was the only sound he ever heard for the rest of his life, then he would die a happy man.
Mr. Greene is not as charmed by Billy’s foolishness as his daughter, raising an outstretched hand for him to hand over the gloves and let them get inside. Billy can’t look the man in the eye as he places her gloves in his hand, but he does manage a small, sideways glance at her and sees that she’s gone all pink in the face. Just like him, he reckons. 
The Greenes are put up in separate but adjoining rooms on the second floor. Billy watches as Mr. Garland ushers them up the marble staircase. Feldman gives him an earful for what happened outside, but all he can think about is being the one to bring her luggage to her room. To see her again, maybe even talk to her.
He very nearly pushes the other bellboys over as they begin to bring the Greenes’ luggage inside. Despite their obvious wealth, they’ve traveled lightly in comparison to many of the other guests the Halcyon receives. Billy counts her suitcases. Only four. He can manage four on his own, can’t he? 
Feldman pinches the bridge of his nose at the sight of Billy, two large suitcases tucked awkwardly under each arm, lumbering up the stairs and nearly taking out one of the guests along the way. 
When he makes it to the room that she’ll be staying in, he has to scoot sideways through the open door to even make it inside. He’s huffing and puffing from the exertion but manages not to drop the luggage. As he sets them down gently, he looks up and sees her. She’s removed her drenched coat and is standing in the doorway to the bathroom, toweling off strands of her wet hair. There’s a warm glow around her from the sconce on the wall that makes her seem almost luminescent. 
He should say something… or leave now that he’s brought her suitcases. But he just stands to his full height and tugs at the bottom of his bellboy’s jacket to straighten it out again. They are both staring at each other all the while, her with that same, pretty smile as before. 
But to her, the wide-eyed look on his face must make him seem like a startled owl. 
“Thank you,” she finally says, breaking the silence. “Billy… wasn’t it?” 
His name. She said his name. It’s the best his name’s ever sounded. 
Billy swallows hard, his throat painfully dry, and nods. 
“Thank you, Billy.”
He can’t leave yet. Not until he’s managed to say something to her. Not until he’s apologized for having left her to get rained on, at least. A million things he could say seem to run through his brain all at once. Everything he wants to say becomes jumbled in the chaos. The words seem to bloom and die on his tongue in an instant. 
What he eventually decides on is something to the effect of, “I’m sorry I left you in the rain, miss.”
But what actually comes out of his mouth?
“I’m sorry–”
He turns on his heel to run out of the room before she can formulate a reply of her own.
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Billy remains on edge every second of every shift after their first interaction. He’s restless at his post by the front doors of the hotel, fingers tapping on the back of his hand so incessantly that Feldman eventually asks him if he’s unwell. He cobbles together an excuse, saying that he’s just eager for a smoke break. But Feldman can see the way he longingly watches the staircase, hoping and praying to see her again. 
He’s so intent at his post that he forgets more than once to take a guest’s hat or coat when they enter, leaving the doorman, Skinner, to awkwardly step in for him. He gets a proper slagging off from Feldman after he leaves one of the hotel’s most valued guests standing at the door waiting for their coat. 
But none of that matters whenever he sees her. She seems to glide down the staircase whenever she emerges from her room, never a hair or a thread out of place. The beauty of The Halcyon’s lobby pales in comparison to her. No, she somehow makes the room look even lovelier, like there is a light radiating off of her that makes everything in her vicinity more exquisite. 
If she’s walking to the hotel’s restaurant, he’s there to open the door for her. If she’s heading out of the front doors, he’s there with her coat and hat. Each time, he relishes in the sight of her cheeks flushing pink and her eyes getting that little twinkle in them that makes his heart flutter. Hearing the little “thank you” that she mutters each time only makes him fall harder.
“One look from a pretty bird and he’s become a total melt,” Tom, one of the hotel waiters and Billy’s closest work mate, teases him during the staff’s weekly game of poker. 
Feldman spurts out a scoff. “A melt? Boy’s lost his bloody mind, he has. Couldn’t even tell you which way’s up and which way’s down when he’s thinking about… her.” He leans in close to Billy, saying the last word in a sing-songy kind of tone.
Billy attempts to hide the redness in his face behind his cards.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, mate,” says Tom. “She’s an heiress and a guest. Best forget about her. Find a girl you might actually be worthy of.” He laughs it off as a joke, but Billy isn’t smiling. 
It hits a nerve, that remark. Billy knows he’s not the brightest. Never excelled in school. He only got his job here at The Halcyon because of his mum. He may only be sixteen, but he’s peered into his future once or twice and lamented about the fact that he might always be stuck working here until he’s old and gray like Skinner, still taking coats and hauling luggage up and down the stairs. There are few prospects for men like him beyond jobs like these. How could he ever be a suitable match for a girl like her?
Dejected, Billy folds his hand and rises from the apple crate he’s sitting on, not even bothering to collect the cigarettes he’s planned on using as his stake before he starts walking away with his head hung low.
“Oi, Billy!” Tom calls after him, abandoning his own hand to follow him. “Mate, I didn’t mean it. I was only teasing.”
“Doesn’t mean you ain’t right, Tom.”
Tom walks a little quicker to get in front of Billy and stop him in the long hallway between the stairs and the kitchen. “Okay, look.” He lowers his voice. “You wanna see her again? She takes her tea in her room at two o’clock every afternoon. Yeah?”
“Yeah?” Billy echoes, shrugging. “What, and ask Feldman if I can take a late lunch to have tea with her?”
“No, you dolt.” Tom sighs. “You could be the one to bring her her tea every day. You know, get in the door. Strike up a little conversation.” He nudges Billy’s arm. “Get in a cheeky kiss.”
Billy’s eyes widen. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about it… what it’d be like to kiss her. He’s never kissed a girl before. If she could be his first… oh, the idea alone is enough to make him weak in the knees. 
“But it’s… not my job, Tom. Feldman–”
“Leave Feldman to me. I’ll sneak him one of those custard tarts he likes from the kitchens. He won’t be able to say no.”
Finally, a smile tugs at Billy’s lips.
“Look,” Tom continues. “I’m sorry about what I said. She’d be lucky to have you, Billy.” He begins to walk down the hall to rejoin the poker game, but has to tease Billy a little more. “Just promise to make me best man at your wedding, mate!”
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The rattle of porcelain fills the hallway leading to room two-hundred four. Why Mr. Garland had to put Mr. Greene and his daughter in rooms at the end of the hall, Billy will never know. The usually short walk now seems like a marathon’s length as he fights to balance the delicate tray of fine china. He dropped a teacup not long after he started working at The Halcyon and still hears about it from the kitchen staff. If he dropped this tray, he would never survive it.
Billy has bitten down on his bottom lip in concentration, his usually long strides short and uneven. The clattering of the fine china only grows louder the closer he gets to her door, his hands trembling an unacceptable amount. He can carry the heaviest, most cumbersome luggage and now he can’t handle a simple tray of tea? He thanks God that no one else is in the hallway at the moment to see him struggling.
He comes face to face with her door and stares at it for a moment. He’s certain that she will be able to see his heart pounding against his chest from underneath his bellboy’s jacket. Standing there, he begins to work himself up into a frenzy. He doesn’t know if he can do it. Better to turn back now and let Tom deliver her tea as always.
It’s as though he hears Tom’s voice in his head.
Billy, you idiot. It’s just a door.
Yeah, a door with the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen on the other side. He wonders how she’s spent her day so far. Brushing and styling that long, silky hair that he wishes he could run his fingers through. Reading books. Maybe Jane Austen or one of those other books that girls like. Curled up on the chaise with her little dog by her feet. It’s not the type of day that sounds appealing to him, but he’d sit by her side all the while if she wanted him to.
Billy snaps out of his daydream, realizing that he is still staring at the dark mahogany door with the gold two zero four on it. He swallows hard and decides to go for it. It’s quite the balancing act, getting one hand free to rap on the door without dropping the silver tray. He stands on one leg and lifts the other to prop it up on his thigh, quickly knocking twice on the door - but not before he sees a trickle of tea spill from underneath the teapot lid and onto the pristine tray. 
“Oh, bugger.” 
He only just manages to regain control over the tea tray when the lock clicks and the door swings open. It’s clear that she was expecting to see Tom by the look on her face - first, a flash of confusion, and then, a little smile and a blush. She’s rouged her lips today, making them look even fuller than usual. It complements the navy blue silk blouse she’s wearing and somehow makes her face seem even more aglow. Then he’s hit with the warm, flowery smell of her perfume and he lets it fill his lungs. Whatever it is, it suits her. 
Say something, Billy. Bloody hell.
He glances down at the tray and back up at her, seeing that she hasn’t taken her eyes off of him. He swallows again, trying to regain even a semblance of composure. He’s trying to come up with a reason as to why he, a bellboy, is there delivering her tea and not Tom or one of the other waiters, but she speaks first.
“Tom’s busy today?” 
Oh, that voice of hers. He could melt. 
But instead, he offers a little “Mmhmm.”
That’s a better explanation than he would have probably come up with, anyway. 
“Come in. Please.”
She turns to walk with him to the sitting room where she takes her tea by the window and he follows her like a lost puppy, tea tray rattling all the way there. He manages to spill more of the liquid onto the tray on the way there and curses internally. He sucks in his lips in concentration, but the tray still comes clattering to the table. One of the cucumber finger sandwiches tumbles into the puddle of tea below and the clotted cream slides out of its bowl.
“Oh… sorry, miss,” Billy mutters, knowing he’s ruined the presentation of the tray and, likely, spilled half of the tea that she was meant to drink. That’s the second time he’s apologized to her in the span of a few days for doing something stupid. Feldman would wring his neck.
Any other wealthy, well-to-do guest would have snapped at him, cursed at him, called him clumsy and stupid. But she smiles up at him, her eyes glittering more than all The Halcyon’s chandeliers combined. It’s only now that Billy notices just how close they are. Almost as close as couples get when they dance. His mind wanders again, wondering if she enjoys dancing. 
“It’s alright, Billy.” Her voice brings her back into the moment. Heaven above… she remembers his name. She plucks the finger sandwich out of the spilled tea it’s sitting in and tries a small bite, offering him a little smile. “I think it tastes better this way.”
He’s staring at her like a deer in the headlights again, but he somehow manages to nod and smile. “Oh. G… good.” 
Her own grin widens and she leans down to pour herself a cuppa. He knows he should go, but he’s somehow glued to the spot. He watches her every movement, from the way her hand delicately grasps the teapot handle to the way her brow furrows in concentration as she adds milk to her cup.
“You don’t talk much, do you, Billy?” 
“Erm…” He straightens the front of his jacket nervously, feeling the heat in his cheeks. A breathy laugh leaves him. “I dunno.”
His mum would be in stitches if she were here right now. He’s been chewed out more than a few times for talking her ear off when she’s busy cooking or cleaning. You’re going to drive me mad one of these days, Billy, she’d say. To see him completely clammed up around this girl would throw her for a loop.
“I understand. My dad’s not a big talker, either. So I talk to Clara.” She turns to where her corgi is asleep in her plush bed by the fire and smiles. “She’s a good listener.” 
“Yeah…” He follows her gaze, grateful that the little dog isn’t awake to bark at him. “Bet she is.”
“Do you have any pets, Billy?”
He blinks a few times. She wants to know something about him? The blush in his cheeks only deepens.
“Uhm, no… mum’s allergic.”
A look of sympathy flashes across her face. “Oh. That’s bad luck. Well, you’re welcome to say hello to Clara and pet her if you want. She’s such a sweet girl. She loves people.”
Billy glances at the dog again. She isn’t the one he’d like to spend time with. “Yeah. Maybe next time.”
“Next time?” she asks hopefully. His heart jumps.
“Oh, I just– you know. If… Tom’s busy again.” 
Her smile warms him. “I’m sure he’s always busy. Not that you aren’t, too,” she laughs. “I just mean that… you’re welcome to bring my tea again… if you want.”
Billy is stunned into silence again, and right after he’s finally managed to string together more than two words at once. They mirror one another, both wringing their hands together nervously. The air between them feels heavy with unspoken words, but theirs isn’t an uncomfortable silence.  
“Of course, miss,” Billy finally manages. He watches her take a sip from the glistening white teacup and delights in the little hum of pleasure that leaves her.
“If you have work to do, then… I won’t keep you, Billy.” She speaks almost hesitantly, like she’d rather be asking him to stay. “I’d hate for you to get in trouble because of me…”  
She’s right. He has a lot to do before his work day ends and Feldman wouldn’t take too kindly to him neglecting his duties. But he’d give anything to stay here with her.  
“Yeah, I’d better… go.” He sounds unsure, something she clearly notices judging by the way she smiles. 
“Thank you for bringing me my tea, Billy. See you later?” The enthusiastic way in which she asks her question makes it sound like they’re friends who are set to meet up again tomorrow… or maybe that she sees him as, potentially, something more. 
No, he has to tell himself. She doesn’t mean it like that. Not at all. She can’t. Not him, the bellboy. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get his hopes up.
“See you later, miss.”
His eyes flit to her lips briefly, hoping she hasn’t noticed before he hurries out of the room and nearly slams the door behind him. He all but floats down the hotel staircase, wearing a stupidly wide grin on his face. 
At the end of his shift, he’s downstairs by the staff lockers being grilled by Tom about everything that happened that afternoon. Billy can barely give any specifics about the interaction itself because he keeps devolving into thoughts of the way her hair curled at the base of her neck and how delicate her fingers looked as she poured herself tea. At some point, Tom decides he’s a lost cause and leaves him to his daydreaming.
Feldman wanders in to collect his things and sees Billy leaning against the lockers there, clutching his bellboy’s hat to his chest. As far as he’s concerned, the sooner this girl checks out of the hotel, the better. It’ll sort him out and get him back to functioning properly.
“I think I’m in love with her,” Billy says over his shoulder with a dreamy sort of look in his eyes.
“You haven’t said ten words to her, Billy.” 
“I have too!” But he starts hurriedly counting on his fingers… just to be sure. 
“Saying ‘yes, miss’ and ‘no, miss’ a handful of times each doesn’t count, lad.”
Billy blushes. “Well, I—” 
Feldman’s laugh only makes his face redder. “I reckon you’ll want to keep bringing her tea so you can stare at her some more, eh?”
“W-well, Tom said he’ll be too busy again and—”
“Yeah, busy having a smoke break.”
Billy can find no clever reply or excuse, so he just looks down at the bellboy’s cap that he has been idly turning over and over again in his hands.
“Look, Billy. If I’m gonna keep allowing you to slip away for tea time with this girl when you should be helping me check in guests, then you have to swear to me that you’ll man up–” Feldman hits him square in the middle of the chest with the back of his hand. “–and hold at least one bloody conversation with her before she and her father leave on Sunday. Yes?” 
“Yes, sir.”
Feldman takes him by the shoulders and gives him a little jostle. Someone’s got to shake some sense into this boy. “Yes?”
“Oi…” Billy furrows his brow and recoils. “Yes. Feldman, I will. Promise.” 
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The rest of the Greenes’ stay at The Halcyon passes far too quickly for Billy’s liking. He does manage to hold true to his promise to Feldman and strikes up a conversation with her about her dog on the final day he brings her tea. Of course, Feldman never said that it had to be a long conversation. Billy found himself clamming up again in the end, but he still left her room feeling like he’d accomplished an insurmountable feat. 
He’s back to his uncharacteristically quiet demeanor today, though. Part of it is his own sadness that she will be leaving the hotel today and part of it is that her father has been flitting between their two rooms all morning. Something tells him that Mr. Greene wouldn’t be too pleased about a bellboy staring a little too long at his daughter. 
As the last trolley of luggage is wheeled out by another one of the bellboys, Billy waits for her to finish putting a leash on her dog. He glances around the room, now empty of her personal effects, and feels his heart sink. The room already seems less lovely in the absence of her. 
“That’s the last of your luggage… miss.” He knows he sounds too dejected when she looks at him with a little crease between her eyebrows.
“Thank you, Billy.” Her voice is as soft and as sweet as ever, but he’s far too heartbroken at the thought of her checking out of the hotel and probably never returning to enjoy it. She’ll forget all about him when she returns to her father’s estate and her fancy parties and her rich, handsome suitors. He’s feeling so sorry for himself that the purpose of her next request is lost on him.
“Billy, would you… help me with Clara? These shoes are brand new, and… I would hate to slip on the stairs if she decides to pull on the lead…” 
He’s seen her go up and down the stairs with the little dog plenty of times. Why should she need his help now? But he acquiesces and holds a hand out to take the lead from her.
“Course, miss.”
They leave her room together in silence. He notices that she keeps attempting to catch his gaze, even offering a couple of crooked smiles, but he’s walking under a raincloud the entire way through the lobby. 
“You know, Billy,” she finally says in her usual chipper tone. “I was thinking… my seventeenth birthday’s this fall. Maybe I can see if my father will let me have my party here. Do many people celebrate birthdays at The Halcyon?”
Billy completely misses her question after he hears the words “this fall” and “have my party here.” Fall isn’t that far away if he really thinks about it. He doesn’t care when or how, only that she’s already thought about returning to the hotel. She wants to come back.  
“Wh– you mean it?” 
He catches her beautiful, red-lipped smile and feels his heart flutter again. 
“Of course I do. I’ve enjoyed staying here and–” She blushes. “–getting to meet you.” When he stares at her, too taken aback to reply, she chuckles and continues. “You’ll still be here in November… won’t you?”
“Y-yeah,” Billy breathes. “Long as Feldman doesn’t sack me or nothing.”
She laughs again and takes Clara’s lead from him. “Then… I’ll see you again soon.”
“See you…”
Billy’s voice trails off and he takes a step back from her as her father approaches with Mr. Garland in toe. Mr. Greene places a short kiss on the top of his daughter’s head before the two of them step out into the gray Sunday morning. Billy cranes his neck to catch one last glimpse of her as she climbs into the car after her dog, catching a smile from her before the door closes. 
November can’t come soon enough.
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ysaona · 2 months
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BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM.
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