#multi-era | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

helaelaemond · 8 months

Note

Billy Washington idea: Soft-ish Billy being upset after getting himself into trouble again. Like, he just can't stop being a flop even when he tries to. Reader comforts him in the best and smuttiest way she can. Maybe he shows up unexpectedly at her place because he needs someone, even though he won't admit it? Idk, delinquent flop men get me going sometimes.

Title: Only worth living if somebody is loving you - part of the It's All For You series but can be read as standalone

Pairing: Billy Washington x female reader

Summary: Billy has been fired and feels worthless. But you love him; he's everything to you. So you show him how much worth he has. Established relationship, handjob, fingering, pet names, mild daddy kink, mild dirty talk.

Word count: 3.1k

Rating: E

Notes: thank you so much for the prompt! This was a lot of fun to write when I am supposed to be working!

You're not meant to have your phone on at work, but you get away with it where you can. You're in the basement kitchen today, anyway, so no customers will see. Behind the shoddy table set up as a makeshift barista bar, you fill tray after tray of tea and coffee - Blue Lady, Darjeeling, Sumatran, Colombian, jasmine, they all roll into one in the end. So feeling your phone vibrate in your apron pocket is a delightful distraction.

You ignore the tickets coming through behind you, and get one of the dish boys to cover you. "What? I need a fag," you reply over your shoulder when he protests. You smile giddily at your phone and swipe to answer. "Hey, Billy."

He doesn't sound happy on the other end. "Hey."

You slink into the alley and crouch close to the floor, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "What's up?"

"You got a sec?"

There's something in his voice that worries you. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. Tell me."

He sighs. You hear him blare his horn as he drives, followed by a string of profanities. "Fucking wanker! Twat!"

You take a long drag. "You on a run?" He's been a delivery driver for a delivery service for a few months now. It's shitty money and shitty conditions, but it's all he could get after being fired from his last job. Hitting a customer. The customer swung for him first, but it was Billy who landed the first successful punch.

"No. Driving home."

"Oh?"

"Don't fucking start."

You force yourself to smile against your phone. Your voice is soft. "Hey. I'm not starting anything. You called me."

He sighs again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't... I can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"They sacked me."

"Why?" you ask, closing your eyes and wincing.

Billy's voice is clipped. "Didn't meet their targets."

"Those targets are bullshit," you snap defensively. Everything he's told you about his job has you seeing red - they take advantage and bleed him dry. "You don't need that place."

"I need the pay check."

"We'll figure it out. Where you going now?"

He pauses. You hear his indicator, and the rev of his ancient car engine as he moves between gears. "Your parent still away?"

You watch as the smoke you blow out rises up the alley and into the sky. "Yeah. Key's in the plant pot. I finish in an hour. Make yourself at home."

Billy's car is parked lazily on your street, and you feel butterflies in your stomach. It's been a few years since you got together, but adrenaline still runs through you at the mere thought of being near him. He's got you addicted, flaws and all. It made you want to run all the way home after your shift ended, but you don't think you quite have the stamina for a three-mile sprint.

"Hey, Billy," you call as you let yourself into the home you still share with your parents. London prices are impossible - you'll probably live with them until they die

He grunts in response, and you follow the noise into the living room. He's sat on the sofa facing away from you, head bent, and you go to him. You drop your bag and kick off your shoes and wrap your arms around him from behind. "Hey, daddy."

He winces. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?" you whisper against his ear. "You usually like it."

Billy pulls out of your arms and shifts on the sofa. "Yeah, well, I don't right now."

"Sorry." You go to the kitchen and make two cups of tea - milk and sugar for you, no sugar for him. None of the loose-leaf shit you serve at work, just proper Yorkshire bags. He follows you quietly, and thanks you when you hand him his. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugs, still avoiding your gaze.

"Billy." Your voice is soft. The hard pain in his face hurts to see.

He licks his lips and takes a sip. It's scalding, and he hisses quietly. You put your cup down to cool, and go to him. Your hands find their place on his narrow hips, and you look up at him. He's so tall; it makes you feel so safe. His hair is getting long, and it falls over his eyes.

After a long moment, he finally meets your gaze. "I really tried with this one."

You nod. "I know."

"I promise."

"I know."

"Why are you with me?" he asks softly. When he tries to pull away, you hold him close. "I'm not... God, you deserve better than this."

"No, Billy, no." One hand runs to the small of his back and the other finds his cheek to guide his gaze back to you. "You're worth so much more than a shitty job."

"I'm a failure."

"No, you're not," you soothe. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Don't let some stupid job define you."

"You deserve so much more than me."

You reach up on your toes and kiss his lips firmly. He meets your kiss with a quiet sigh. "You're all I've ever wanted and needed. Don't worry about the job."

"I'm not worthy of you."

Taking his hand, you lead him back to the living room. You both bring your cups with you and set them on the coffee table. You push him to sit on the sofa, and when you straddle him, it's satisfying how naturally his grasp finds your backside. But still, he drops his head to your shoulder in defeat. You stroke his hair and gently massage his scalp, just as he likes.

"You want me to tell you how much I love you?" you murmur.

He swallows thickly. He shakes his head.

"You want me to show you? You want me to help you forget everything else?"

He doesn't react, except to pull you tighter. You smile slightly, and kiss his hair. Sex is something that brings you closer than anything else. It's the place where Billy feels most in control, where he can take care of you and call the shots and do everything to make you feel good. You accidentally called him daddy once when he was fucking you, and that was the day your dynamic changed. He leaned into the nickname proudly, and he wears it like a secret badge of honour. He does everything to earn it, too. He takes care of you, dominates you like you need. It's the only time when he feels like a real man. He loves you so much, he forgets what hating himself feels like.

The world is cruel to him, but you never are. You're just obsessed with him.

"You want me to take care of you?" you whisper against his ear. Billy buries his face against your chest, and gently bites through your shirt. It smells of coffee and tea and kitchen grease. He nods again.

"Alright. I can do that." You tilt up his chin and kiss him. This time, it's deeper. When you part your lips, he mirrors you and welcomes your tongue into his mouth. Pulling back for a moment, you look into his piercing blue eyes. "Can you do something for me?"

He nods.

You smile softly. "Can you undo my shirt for me, please?"

Billy's eyes are wide, and he nods again. Long fingers complete the task, and your white work shirt falls open. Underneath is a practical bra, white and cotton and far from sexy. Still, just the sensation of him opening your shirt makes your nipples hard, and that's enough for him. "Thank you," you say, affection in your voice. "Can you touch me?"

He's putty in your hands for once. This is new territory for you, being so in control. Usually, he's the one gently telling you what to do, his voice sugar and honey as his requests and commands turn from this kind of sweetness into depravity. You're trying to emulate him now, to give him what he might need.

He runs his knuckles over your breasts through the fabric, up and down he goes, catching your hard nipples each time. Half the time you're with him, it feels like the first time. Not in a bad way, just the excitement and anticipation, and how much you fucking need him. Just this touch has you feeling your heartbeat in your cunt.

"Lean back, baby," you tell him. You haven't called him that before. It's the pet name he calls you when he's fucking you to the point of tears, and so you're unsure. He shakes his head slightly. "Lean back, Billy." That, he obeys, and that makes you smile. "Good. Can you take off your shirt for me, too?"

Keeping his eyes on you, he takes off his black tshirt and tosses it aside. You grab it, though, and press it against your nose to catch his scent. "Mmph. I love your smell."

"Yeah?" His expression is softening slowly over time. The tension in his eyebrows is smoothing out.

"Yeah, I do." You shrug out of your open shirt. As you unclasp your bra, you shift to straddle one of his thighs instead of both, and grind slightly. The friction feels so good. When you're good for him, daddy sometimes lets you ride his leg until you come. The thought makes you shiver. "I love everything about you."

"I..." As you throw aside your bra, Billy runs his hands up your sides and back down to your hips. His eyes dart between your face and your breasts. "I don't deserve you."

In his grey joggers, you see his familiar swell. It's impossible to resist reaching for it and pressing the flat of your hand to him. "You deserve me every single day, Billy. You make me feel... oh, God. You make me feel divine."

His hands go back to your breasts, and elegant fingers gently tease your nipples in perfect tandem. Under your hand, you feel his cock twitch. He loves your breasts. Then, he mirrors your action, except his hand tugs down your zipper and he presses his fingers against you over your underwear. A slight lift of your hips, and his hand is trapped between you and his thigh.

"No," you murmur with a smile. "I want to focus on taking care of you."

"You are," he replies. "It makes me feel good to take care of you, too."

He's rewarded with a kiss to his pretty lips, and this time his tongue finds yours first. The pressure of it makes you shiver again. You grind harder against his hand, whilst your own hand palms him through the soft material.

"God." He drops against the back of the sofa again and looks up at you. "Promise you love me."

You take the hand between your legs to your mouth. As you suck his fingers, you look into his eyes. You swirl your tongue between them, over them, and your other hand reaches into his trousers. You fumble with the band of his boxers, and trap his cock under it. You touch the red tip and moan around his digits.

"I fucking love your cock," you moan as you pull his fingers from your mouth.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I can't get enough of it, not ever."

"What do you do when we're apart?" he asks, encouraging you. Suddenly, he grabs you and pulls you to sit next to him on the sofa. His confidence is returning.

"I... I watch that video you made for me a few months ago."

Billy watches your face and bites his lip. "Take off your clothes," he murmurs softly. You obey. "What video?"

With his gentle dominance coming back, your heart is racing. He lifts his hips to help you push down his trousers and underwear, and you begin a steady rhythm with your hand on his cock. "The one where you're alone on your bed."

"Spread your legs for me, baby."

Your breath catches in your throat. Again, you obey. He runs his palm up and down the inside of your thigh, and he pulls it over his leg. The intimacy of feeling your legs rest together makes your chest flush. Billy's hand slides up the soft skin of your inner thigh, and he watches your face. He has more control over his expression as you stroke him than you do when his fingers run up and down the outside of your pussy.

"What was I doing in the video?" he asks softly.

Moaning. Writhing. Begging. "Touching yourself."

"You never sent me a video back."

You laugh quietly. It turns swiftly to a moan when Billy's middle and ring fingers glide between your folds lazily. "I... I tried."

"Did you?"

As two digits press at your entrance, your hand on his cock stills. The pressure is delicious, a little demanding, a little possessive. He touches you like he owns you. He does own you. "Yeah. But... oh, shit, that's nice. But when I watched it back, I... mmph, Billy- it wasn't quite right."

"Impossible," he whispers. He leans over to kiss your neck just as his fingers slip inside. "Everything about you is perfect."

"You're blind."

He bites your ear and then blows into it. "I'm a man in love, that's all."

"Love," you breathe. Finally, you find the strength to stroke him again, although his fingers moving inside of you are driving you to distraction. "There aren't enough words to tell you how I feel about you."

"Mmm?"

"I'm fucking obsessed." He rewards you with his thumb pressing against the side of your clit. He gently rubs up and down, careful not to overstimulate you. "Shit, just like that, please-"

"I don't deserve you." But he's smiling this time. "My pretty girl."

When he says things like that, you utterly melt. And then, it's you who's putty again, and Billy who's in control. "Kiss me?"

"Come here, baby."

You whimper needily when he pulls out his hand. But he grabs your hand, and you climb back into his lap. His trousers and underwear are still on his thighs. Perhaps if he fucks you good enough, you'll leave your smell on them.

"You want me inside you?"

You nod and clutch his shoulders. "Please."

"Please, what?"

It's not even a question. It's am automatic response now. "Please, daddy."

"Oh, that's my good girl."

As you cling onto him, Billy runs his cock through your folds, pressing the head against your clit. When you feel his bluntness against your entrance, you whine softly. "Please. I need you so bad. Please."

"You love me?"

You nod, and press a feverish kiss to his forehead. "I love you so much."

As he presses inside you, your mouth drops open in a silent moan. He's perfect for you, not big enough to hurt, not small enough to frustrate. He doesn't stretch, he fills. He's everything to you. You grind against him and feel the delicious slip of him inside and out. When you rock against his hard pubic bone, he praises you. "Good girl, taking what you need. I'm so proud of you."

It makes you bite your lip. You rock in a familiar rhythm that suits you both. His kisses are on your chest and your shoulders, hot and wet. Over the pulse in your neck, he sucks gently. He'd never leave a mark on you that would embarrass you for other people to see. But when his lips find your breasts again, he gives you flowers of purple and red.

"Fuck!" you whine. "You're perfect, you're so perfect."

He crushes his mouth against yours. Strong arms wrap around your back and then all of a sudden he flips you onto the sofa and shoves your legs up. They press together and you feel the ache down the back of them, but it's nothing compared to the ache in your cunt now he's left you empty. It's only for a moment, though. He slams back inside you, and the change in angle threatens to overwhelm you. Like this, his every pound has the tension between your legs stimulated.

"Daddy!" you moan. "Please, let me see you, please, please-!"

The hand that grips your ankles loosens enough to let one leg drop down. Now you can see him, his slight grin, the fire in his eyes. He looks at you like a man obsessed, like you're the only thing in the world that matters.

"That's it, baby," he pants. His hair sticks to his sweaty forehead. His tight balls slap against you with every thust, making you whimper. "You're taking me so beautifully. Well done, my sweet girl."

"I'm so close!"

"Tell me what you need." He holds your elevated leg up by his shoulder, and turns his head to kiss your ankle. But his eyes never leave yours.

"Your h- Jesus! Hand! Please! Please!"

"Well done," he says again between laboured breaths. "You're so good at telling me what you need. Like this?"

While his hand presses firmly against your pelvis, his thumb finds its way back to your clit. The circles he runs are harder and faster now.

"Can I come?" you beg.

"Of course, baby. Whenever you need."

'Thank you, daddy!"

He's so good to you. He makes sure you orgasm first. Billy pounds you through your explosive completion that makes your whole body jerk, and only when your guttural screams have subsided does he let himself go. You got the coil so he can have you properly. He clings to the thigh against his chest as he comes, spending deep inside you. The cry of your name is deep and ragged. It sends aftershocks rushing through you.

He collapses on you, and you both pant. Only when his cock begins to soften does he pull out of you, but beyond that, neither of you move much. His face is buried in your neck, and your hand is buried in his hair.

After a while, you feel lips press softly against your throat.

"You okay?" you whisper.

"Mmm."

"I wanted to be the one to take care of you." You laugh softly.

He kisses your skin again. "You always take care of me." His voice is nothing more than a mumble.

The laughter fades on your lips. "I always will. I love you so much."

"You make life worth living."

Your arms tighten around him. "Your life is so precious, Billy. We'll find a way to make it better. I promise."

"I love you."

#billy washington x reader #billy washington x you #ewan mitchell #billy washington x oc #billy washington #billy multi #ask #anon #sorry if hes not pathetic enough for you!!!!!!!!! my vision of him has evolved a lot #hes still in a flop era though #mine

175 notes · View notes