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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 8 days ago

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Melt with You

Pairing: Billy Taylor (The Halcyon) x f!reader Warnings: Smut, oral sex (m receiving) Word count: ~3k

Summary: Snowed in at the Halcyon, Billy and his girlfriend have to find ways to keep themselves occupied. Can be read as a second part to Sweeter Than This, but also works as a standalone.

Author's note: Day three of Smuffmas - blizzard and blow job. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She has had a spring in her step all day long. From the moment she stepped out of her front door that morning, and felt the first chilly flakes of snowfall upon her cheeks, to the beds she has stripped throughout the day, she hasn’t been able to shift the smile from her face, or the excited flutters from her belly – she has the house to herself this evening, and Billy is coming over.

From the moment her and Billy’s relationship had progressed from friends to something more, they had struggled to find alone time together. With Billy kept busy on the anti aircraft guns down at the army barracks, and her working long shifts at the Halcyon, finding a free moment was almost impossible. Their living situations didn’t help matters either; both lived with their mums. On the occasions when Peggy would work a night shift on the hotel switchboard, she would go over to Billy’s, but their evenings together usually consisted of looking after his little sister.

When things grew heated between them, it was always a stolen moment on a break in one of the rooms she had yet to turn down. They had never spent a full night together, and still hadn’t had sex, though after six months of courting, she wasn’t sure she was quite ready for that. Her mind often wandered to the first time he had brought her to peak on his tongue, the memory making her core throb with want and her skin grow heated. Billy had done it twice more since then, and she was eager to make him feel just as good without going all the way. She just didn’t know how.

It had been Kate who had suggested she return the favour. “You know you can use your mouth on him too?” she’d suggested as they had been folding clean sheets and towels.

She’d felt her cheeks blaze with embarrassment as her eyes had widened. “You mean…put his…his thing in my mouth?!”

Kate had laughed, playfully flicking a pillowcase at her. “You needn’t act so bloody daft, you seem quite happy to be on the receiving end.”

She sighed, her hands pausing mid fold and looked shyly up at her fellow maid. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t know how. What if I get it wrong and he laughs at me?”

“Billy? Laugh at you?” she had scoffed, “he would never. He’ll think all of his Christmases have come at once. It’s called a ‘blow job’.”

“How do you know so much about it?”

“I was seeing a fella who’s a pilot. He taught me how. I can tell you how to do it, if you want?”

She had chewed her lip anxiously, the very idea of discussing something so intimate made her incredibly embarrassed, but at the same time she was curious, and if she was going to do this for Billy, she wanted to make sure she did it right. Finally, she had nodded her assent and for the next twenty minutes the pair of them had giggled and spoken in hushed whispers as Kate had explained precisely what she did when orally pleasing a man.

Tonight, she was planning to put what she had learned into practice. Her mum was working a night shift at the factory, Billy had the night off from the barracks, and Peggy wasn’t working the Halcyon’s switchboard, meaning he wouldn’t be needed to babysit. She was due to finish her shift at 6pm, then Billy would meet her in the hotel lobby and they would walk back to hers. An entire evening together, she couldn’t wait.

She was jittery with excitement by the time she finished for the day, her hands shook as she changed out of her black and white maid’s uniform and into a green, collared dress with an A-line skirt. Kate had let her borrow her expensive Elizabeth Arden lipstick in the shade ‘Montezuma red’, stating “you want his attention to be drawn to your lips, trust me”. She applied a liberal coat to her lips, taken aback by how the bright crimson did indeed draw all attention to her mouth as she stared in the mirror.

She hurried from the staff room in the back, her coat and bag slung over her arm, before she could give herself the chance to change her mind and wipe it all off.

Billy was sitting in one of the foyer's plush leather armchairs as she walked out, and her face lit up the moment she saw him, a wide smile spreading across her face. He was out of his uniform too, having swapped his olive green jacket and trousers for a white collared shirt beneath a grey woolen jumper and brown slacks. His hair was slicked back with Brylcreem, though a few strands had fallen loose around his temples. He looked so handsome, and it was nice that for once they could just be themselves together; her and Billy, not the maid and the soldier.

His jaw fell agape as he finally turned to look at her, his eyes travelling from her head to her toes and back again, before he stood to greet her. “Wow…you look…wow.”

She giggled, glad she stuck with the lipstick as she watched him flush a deep shade of pink. “Ready to get out of here?” she asked, “I know I am.”

He nodded, grabbing his coat from the arm of the chair as she started to put her own on. “Yeah, might have to mind how we go though,” he gestured towards the bottoms of his trousers, which she could now see were damp, “snow was coming down pretty heavy when I walked here an hour ago.”

“You got here an hour ago?” She asked with a playful smile.

Billy busied himself with putting his coat on, an attempt to hide his embarrassment. “Was excited to see ya.”

She’s about to respond, to tell him how sweet he is, when the hotel’s chief concierge, Feldman, walks in from outside, his footsteps clicking against the polished floors. He dusts white flakes from the lapels of his jacket as he walks, stopping when he sees them both.

“You’re not both going out in that, are you?” He asks, a look of genuine concern causing his brows to pinch together.

She nods. “Billy’s gonna walk me home.”

“In this weather?” Feldman says, “I hardly think so.”

“Just a bit of snow, Mr. Feldman,” Billy retorts, “we’ll be alright.”

“Look outside,” the chief concierge tells them, gesturing towards the doors, “there’s a blizzard. We’ve had three no shows already because of it.”

She hurries towards the main doors of the hotel, struggling to push them open against the force of the wind. Peering out, she can see a thick blanket of white covering the entire street, too thick to drive safely in, let alone walk. The wind howls, ushering with it a continuous steady flurry of fresh snowfall.

This is a stark contrast to the light dusting that she walked through on her way to work this morning. She’d been stuck in the windowless laundry room for most of the day, so hadn’t realised how bad the weather had gotten.

Feeling Billy’s presence behind her, his chest against her back as he looks too, she turns to him, her voice dejected as she asks “what are we going to do?”

“You’ll both just have to stay here until it’s safe for you to go home,” Feldman answers for him, “with the no shows due to the weather, I’m sure there’d be no objections to you both taking one of the empty rooms if it ends up being overnight.”

“Thanks, Mr. Feldman”, Billy responds as they head back towards the staff room.

She flops down onto the threadbare sofa of the back room of the hotel, sighing heavily as she shrugs out of her coat. Tonight was supposed to be special and now it was all ruined, thanks to the snow.

“What’s with the face?” Billy asks gently, coming to sit beside her.

“I was really looking forward to tonight,” she whines.

Billy nods in understanding, giving her knee a reassuring squeeze. “I know, so was I. But we’ll still have a nice time, won’t we? Doesn’t matter where we are, as long as we’re together.”

“I’d baked you a Lord Woolton’s pie,” she protests, “and…and I…well, it doesn’t matter now,” she trails off, not having the courage to explain what else she’d had in mind for their night alone.

“It’ll keep,” he says with a shrug, smiling earnestly, “you can bring me a slice down to the barracks.”

She can’t help but smile back, and feel slightly guilty. Here she is, sulking about how things have gone wrong, when Billy is trying to make the best of it, just like he always does. “I’ll bring you the whole thing.”

“Tell you what, I bet the kitchen has some stuff knocking about, I could grab us a few things, and we could have that for our tea.”

She huffs a laugh, swatting playfully at his arm. “You can’t go skulking about the kitchen, Billy, you don’t work here anymore.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” He asks, getting up and chucking his coat over the back of the sofa, before walking out.

After a few moments he returns with a platter and two bottles of beer. He sets everything down upon the rickety table in front of where they’re sitting; a spread of Spam sandwiches and sponge cake.

“Didn’t wanna take anything fancy,” he explains apologetically, “George was watching me.”

“This is perfect,” she says softly as he sits next to her again.

“Remember these?” Billy asks, picking up a Spam sandwich, “we used to eat them every lunch break.”

She giggles and nods. “I remember you always used to eat my fish paste ones, because I didn’t like them.”

Billy wrinkles his nose in disgust, making her laugh harder, and the two fall into a comfortable silence, eating cake and sandwiches as they sip their beers and watch through the window as the blizzard continues to blanket London in a heavy white shroud.

She stares thoughtfully at him, watching the way the low lamplight of the staff room illuminates the sharp features of his face. Despite tonight being the furthest thing from what she had planned, she still wants to make him feel good; he had been so positive, when she had been all too eager to complain.

“Billy..?”

“Mmm..?” He replies, looking away from the window to where she sits beside him.

“Want to find one of those free rooms?”

“Not time for bed yet, is it?” He asks with a grin.

“I don’t want to sleep,” she says, pushing off of the sofa, casting a knowing glance over her shoulder at him, as she walks away.

“Oh…oh,” his eyes widen in realisation as he almost trips over his own feet in his haste to follow her.

She lets herself into one of the empty rooms - one she had turned down herself earlier that day - and quickly reapplies her lipstick in front of the large mirror that sits atop the vanity, the beer and sandwiches having faded its bright red hue slightly.

The hotel room did make for a more plush surrounding for what she has planned - the cramped confines of her single bed are leagues apart from the opulence of the crisp white linens and velvet lined furniture of The Halcyon.

The moment the door clicks closed behind Billy, he wraps his arms around her. It’s like second nature to him now to do so, though she can still feel the heavy pounding of his heart; he is no less nervous, he’s just gotten better at hiding it.

“I really wanna kiss you,” he whispers, his voice trembling slightly, “but I don’t wanna ruin your pretty lipstick.”

“Didn’t bring you in here to kiss you,” she whispers back.

Billy swallows thickly, a light dusting of pink tinting his skin all the way to the tips of his ears as he grins impishly at her. “Oh right, you want me to…er–”

“No, not tonight,” she explains, fighting the urge to chuckle at the sudden look of confusion that passes across his face. “Tonight, I’m going to do something for you.”

Reflexively, his fingers tighten slightly on her waist. “Do what?”

Mustering more bravery than she feels, she battles to keep her cool as she responds, not wanting to show any hesitation or embarrassment. “Do you know what a blowjob is, Billy?”

His eyes widen as his jaw falls agape, staring at her in utter disbelief. “You…you can’t…I mean, yeah, but you…you don’t have to…”

The stammered display of consideration for her feelings reassures her, quieting any apprehension she had previously felt. She is surer now than ever that she wants to do this for him.

“I want to,” she insists, “will you lay on the bed for me?”

She can see the way his chest heaves with how heavy his breathing has gotten, but he nods, removing his shoes and laying down. She is swift in joining him, her hands moving to his belt.

“Can I?” She asks.

His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted as he stares at her, before nodding enthusiastically. She can feel her own pulse racing, nervous excitement fluttering in her belly. She unbuckles his belt, before working open the button of his slacks and unzipping them. As the material parts, she can see the outline of him through the white cotton of his briefs. She gazes at it, her mouth going dry at the sight. She’d never seen this part of him before, let alone touched it.

She looks up at him, seeing he’s watching her intently, his cheeks flushed. She knows the question she needs to ask, and hates that she has to, knowing it will betray her inexperience. “Are you…are you hard?” she utters meekly, “you have to be for me to do this.”

“Er…only half,” he murmurs, “need you to touch me.”

His complete lack of judgement emboldens her, and she nods, grasping the waistband of his briefs. “I can do that,” she says, tugging them down.

She studies his cock with fascination as she takes it into her hand, stroking gently from base to tip and back again, just as Kate had said she would need to. She marvels at the softness of the skin, the way it glides with each stroke of her palm. Billy lets out a soft groan as his head falls back against the pillow and she feels him grow larger, more rigid in her hand. The tip is bulbous, ruddy in colour and she can’t help but wonder how he will taste against her tongue.

“I–I’m ready when you are,” he pants softly.

She nods, drawing in a breath, before delicately wrapping her lips around the head of him, careful not to let her teeth touch him. The taste is musky, slightly salty, yet not unpleasant.

“Bloody hell,” she hears Billy say under his breath as his hips buck instinctively, pushing more of himself into her mouth. She sputters as he hits the back of her throat and he pulls away, uttering repeated apologies. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, no one’s ever done this to me before. Are you alright?”

Though her eyes have begun to water, her heart swells at his admission, and she’s comforted knowing he is every bit as much a novice as she is. She nods, composing herself, before grasping the base of him. “I want to keep going.”

This time, as her mouth envelopes him, Billy keeps still, fisting the sheets either side of him, as she bobs her head, working her mouth up and down his length, watching the obscene red smear that her lips leave behind. Kate’s instructions play on a loop in her mind, and she strokes what won’t fit in her mouth in time with her movements, hollowing her cheeks.

Billy’s pants grow more desperate as he whispers curses, his brow furrowed as he teeters on the edge of climax. She can feel him beginning to twitch, the way his thighs tense.

“Stop, stop, stop, I’m gonna— FUCK!” he cries out.

She pulls off him, continuing to stroke him as she watches spurts of his thick, white release coat her knuckles and his lower abdomen. She lets go, wiping her hand on the bedsheet, when he finally stills, having spent himself.

“How was that?” She asks with a coy smile as she watches him lay there and gasp for breath.

“I think you killed me,” he says, voice hoarse. When he finally lifts his head from the pillow, a dopey grin spreads across his face. “Can I kiss you now? Your lipstick’s all ruined anyway.”

She giggles, imagining what a mess she must look like right now, but knowing there’s nothing she wants more.

Part one | Series masterlist

#billy taylor x reader #billy taylor x you #billy taylor x y/n #billy taylor smut #billy taylor imagine #billy taylor fan fiction #billy taylor fanfiction #billy taylor fanfic #billy taylor fan fic #the halcyon #ewan mitchell

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anjelicawrites · 16 days ago

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Which Ewan boi is more likely to cry from gettin some reallllllll good sloppy head??? Poly bois too ofc!

Definitely Billy T.! He's red faced and hyperventilates, he can barely keep his legs from folding as he reaches his tripping point, when his whines become cries that reverberate around you two and he cries and cries, control shattered, until he comes in your mouth, almost passing out.

Billy W. also! After he starts putting his life together after the almost car bomb explosion. He starts crying immediately: he can't believe you're on your knees for him, torturing him slowly, thoroughly, taking your time to slurp him down, lick him, kiss his heated flesh, until he's gone, blinded by the pleasure and his own tears, he falls in your arms.

Osferth too cries, and prays, babbling the words through hiccups and whines. He's laying on his back. His legs, kept open by your shoulders, tremble and jump with every slow, deep suck on his heated flesh. He grabs his hair, rakes his fingers down his face, the salt of his tears burns against the inflamed skin. He needs to come, he never wants to stop doing this for the rest of his life.

For Aemond is hearing your words of praise against his erection that undo him. You slur them while you lick and suck is cock, kiss his heavy stones, drunk on his taste as he weeps and keens, arching his back when you pin his hips on the bed. Through the tears he sees your face, your lips a hungry O around his member, your cheeks sucked in for his pleasure: he comes with a long moan, breathless. He can't move, can't think or dry his tears, he's floating in pleasure.

Michael would. Weirdly enough, not in the moment, but days after, when he's lonely and he's thinking about you with his hand in his trousers. The memory of your wicked tongue mingles with the sloppy strokes of his hand, your warmth, the stickiness of his honey mixes with the obscene amount of spit you let rain on his erection, to lube him for his pleasure. He calls your name with his face smushed against his pillow, the tears dried by the cheap cotton of the pillowcase as his hips piston violently, until he comes, remembering the way you sucked him until he begged you to stop.

#answered #billy taylor #billy taylor x reader #billy taylor x y/n #billy washington #billy washington x reader #billy washington x y/n #osferth #osferth x reader #osferth x y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x y/n

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thought--bubble · 4 days ago

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You Can Tell Me

Billy Taylor X Maid Reader

Word Count: 1,456

For the 12 days of smuffmas (Prompts by @ewanmitchellcrumbs)

December 17th - tinsel and talking dirty

Smuffmas Masterlist

Billy T Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Warnings: Heavy petting, teasing, male whimpering.

The Halcyon Hotel was bustling with holiday spirit, the lobby filled with the sounds of laughter and festive music. Yet, as you stood by the Christmas tree, your excitement was tinged with frustration. Billy Taylor had promised to help you decorate, but he was late yet again.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, the hands ticking away as guests passed by, and the lobby started to empty. You tried to shake off your annoyance and started to decorate the tree yourself; if not, you would be stuck there all night. He had taken it upon himself to join the military recently, and since then, getting time with Billy Taylor was more difficult than getting time with the Pope! You understood that his new responsibilities often kept him busy, but he had sworn up and down he would be here tonight to help you.

As you adjusted a string of lights, you heard hurried footsteps approaching. Your heart skipped a beat, half hoping it was Billy, but you had turned to check at every noise for the last two hours, so this time you chose to just continue decorating the tree.

“I’m here!” His voice cut through the noise, and you turned to see him standing there, slightly out of breath, his face flushed with embarrassment.

“You’re late,” you said, crossing your arms. You tried to keep your tone light, but a hint of annoyance crept in. “I thought you’d forgotten.”

“I’m really sorry,” he stammered, running a hand through his hair, a gesture you had always found adorable. “I’ve been at the base, and things got hectic. I didn’t mean to leave you waiting.”

“Well… most of the decorating is done already.” You turned back to the basically bare tree.

“Really? Oh… it looks terrific!” You could hear the kindness in his voice behind you, laced with his desperation to make you happy. You whipped back around towards him.

“No, it does not; it looks terrible.” You put your hands on your hips, your eyebrows slightly raised. You knew you were being immature, but you felt the need to punish him for keeping you waiting.

“No, really! It looks nice. It has those pretty lights… and… and… the tree… is… ummm… green.”

You tipped your head to the side, fighting back a grin. “The tree is green?”

Billy's face lit up red from his neck to his ears. “It smells nice too.”

“Oh, Billy.” You shook your head, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “Just help me decorate this thing so I can head home?”

Billy lit up. “Of course! We can add some finishing touches to your already impeccable work!” He hastily moved towards the box at the base of the tree filled with baubles and adornments. He pulled one out at a time, strategically placing them around the tree. “You want to make sure you don't forget the back. Everyone always thinks since it’s facing the wall, who cares? But it matters, ya know? You gotta decorate the back.”

As you continued to work together, you found yourself relaxing. Billy had a way of making even the simplest tasks feel special. You hung ornaments and wrapped lights while he shared stories about life on base. It seemed easier for him to open up through the act of decorating the tree. You cherished those moments when his shyness would surface, causing him to stumble over his words. Each time your hands brushed together while reaching for an ornament, a spark of warmth ignited within you.

“That looks great!” Billy exclaimed, stepping back to admire your handiwork. The tree shimmered with lights, wrapping around its branches, while an assortment of ornaments filled the gaps.

“Just the tinsel left.” You reached into the box and took big handfuls of tinsel out.

“I can do it!” Billy offered, holding out his hands. You smirked and handed over the tinsel.

“Okay, Billy Taylor… show me how it’s done.” You put your hands on your hips and watched as he haphazardly threw tinsel onto the tree in big chunks, half the time missing the tree and the tinsel falling all over him.

“Billy! The tinsel goes on the tree, not you!” You started to pull the strands of tinsel off of him, your hands touching his neck, chest, and arms.

Billy's face turned bright red, and he stammered out a thank you. When you bent down and tugged on his belt to try and pull out the tinsel that got stuck there, he shuddered, his entire body tensing.

You looked up at him from your bent-over position. “What's wrong, Billy?”

Billy sputtered, unable to speak.

“Sit on the sofa.” You guided him backward to one of the lounge sofas. It was late now; the lounge was empty and quiet, only the gentle glow of the lobby wall sconces illuminating the space.

Billy nodded. “Yeah… that might be good.” He plopped onto the sofa with a gentle push from you. “Now let me get this off of you.”

You pulled your dress up to your mid-thigh and straddled his lap, and he froze.

“The tinsel? Right? T-t-take off the tinsel?” His voice cracked, and he held his hands up as if being stopped by the police.

“We can do that.” You leaned in, bringing your mouth to his ear and plucking away a strand of tinsel. “Why don't you tell me if there's something else you would like to take off?”

Billy's breathing sped up, and he looked up at you, jaw slack. “Wha…?” His words trailed off.

“Tell me, Billy. What else were you thinking about me taking off?” You slid your hands under his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders and down his arms. “Was it your jacket?”

Billy helped you take his jacket off, looking up at you the whole time.

“Anything else you want to take off? Tell me, Billy.” You reached between you and popped open one of the buttons on his shirt. “Maybe your shirt?”

Billy whimpered, his eyes glued to your hands. “Or maybe your belt?” You ran your hand along the leather of his belt. “Or maybe… something else entirely?” You slid your hand down between you, your hand resting over the bulge in his pants.

“Tell me, Billy,” you whispered close to his ear, your hand now moving in circular motions over his hardened manhood.

“Belt!” He gasped as you fully cupped him.

“Belt…” You brought your hands to his belt buckle, pulling it loose. “Why your belt, Billy?”

Billy whimpered louder and looked up at you. “What do you want me to do once your belt is off?” You jerked the belt off him in an almost violent fashion.

“Oh God,” his hips flexed beneath you, his hands now hovering over your hips.

“Tell me.” You leaned back into his ear. “Tell me, and I just might do it.”

“I could…” You pushed his shirt up to the middle of his stomach. “I could trace your belly button.” You slowly slid your fingers around his belly button. “Or maybe… touch…” You slid your hand to his beltline, running your fingers through the small amount of curls sticking out from his undershorts.

“Yes! Touch!” Billy whimpered louder.

“Touch what, Billy?”

“ME! Please touch me.”

“Touch you where?” You slid your hand further into his now loose pants, deeper into those curls, getting right to the edge of where he wanted you most.

Billy panted, looking up at you, his jaw hanging open and panting like a dog.

“Please,” he whimpered, and your hand stopped just before it touched his throbbing erection.

“Tell me to touch your cock, and I will.” As soon as the filthy words left your mouth, Billy arched off the sofa.

“Yes! Touch my cock! Yes! Please! Touch my cock!”

You slid your hand down and gripped his member, eliciting a loud groan from Billy, his entire body tensing like a taut rubber band.

“That tree almost finished?” Mr. Garland called out as he made his way down the stairs.

Billy flew off the sofa, tumbling you down to the floor. You couldn't help but laugh as he ran behind the tree.

“Yep! Almost done!” Billy called out, his voice high-pitched and frantic.

“Are you alright?” Mr. Garland asked, finding you sitting bewildered on the floor.

“Yes. Just finishing up here, and then Billy is going to walk me home.”

“Good on ya. Have a nice night, you two.” Mr. Garland made his way to the entrance.

“You can come out now, Billy.”

Billy poked his head out from behind the tree.

“Do you mind if I try the tinsel again?” Billy asked, his face lit up red, this time instead of looking nervous. He smiled.

#billy taylor x reader #billy taylor #12 days of smuffmas #jess fics

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slaytheusurper · 1 month ago

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⭑ Ewanverse Masterlist ⭑

𐙚 Smut - ☾ Angst - ✧ Fluff

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Tom Bennet

Love thy neighbour 𐙚 Summary: Tom needed to hide from his dad after an evening at the pub, surely his pretty neighbour would let him in?

#ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewanverse #billy taylor #billy taylor x reader #osferth x reader smut #osferth x reader #osferth x fem reader smut #osferth x fem reader #billy taylor x fem reader #billy taylor x fem reader smut #billy taylor x reader smut #tom bennett x fem reader smut #tom bennett x reader smut #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x fem reader #the halcyon fanfic #the last kingdom fanfic #world on fire fanfic

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venmondiese · 9 months ago

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TAGLIST

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 TAGLIST.

EWANVERSE CHARACTERS

-ˋˏtom bennett

-ˋˏmichael gavey

-ˋˏbilly washington

-ˋˏwill (salad days)

-ˋˏbilly taylor

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON / A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE

ᯓ 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 ᯓ 𝐀𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 ᯓ 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 ᯓ 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧 ᯓ 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 ᯓ 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 ᯓ 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 ᯓ 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫

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apothe-roses · 1 year ago

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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.

“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.

#12 days of smuff #billy taylor #billy taylor x reader #ewan mitchell

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assortedseaglass · 1 year ago

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🌟Christingle | Yuletide🌟

Billy Taylor x Reader

Summary: Billy gets flustered when you help with make Christmas decorations for the Halcyon.

Content: Drabble, Fluff

Yuletide Masterlist

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.”

The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites

#ewan mitchell #billy taylor #the halcyon #ewan mitchell x reader #billy taylor x reader #hilde's twelve days of christmas

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tomhiddleston · 1 year ago

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One More Tomorrow (Billy Taylor x Fem!Reader) - Chapter II.

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

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.

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.”

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.

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.

Tag list:

@sepherinaspoppies

(Let me know if you'd like to be added!)

#billy taylor x reader #billy taylor x fem!reader #billy taylor x you #billy taylor #the halcyon #the halcyon itv #the halcyon fanfic #ewan mitchell #one more tomorrow

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its-actually-minicika · 2 years ago

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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

#ewan mitchell #billy taylor #the halcyon #aemond targaryen #billy taylor x reader #PLEASE #i need to write for this sweet summer child #i'll do anything #smut #angst #fluff #you name it #please #just please

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year ago

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Sweeter Than This

Pairing: Billy Taylor (The Halcyon) x f!reader Warnings: Mentions of war and rationing, sexual inexperience, oral sex (f receiving), smut. Word count: ~3.1k

Summary: When Billy gifts her an orange, almost impossible to come by due to lack of exportation and rationing, he decides he wants to taste something sweeter than fruit. Based on this request.

Author's note: For @notasockpuppetaccount. No tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She sits down heavily on a chair in the staff quarters, sighing in relief at the rest she is finally able to give her aching feet and back.

It’s her first day at The Halcyon, one of London’s most prestigious hotels. Money has been tight at home since her father was drafted, and she’d enquired about work just about everywhere she could think of, in order to help her mother make ends meet.

She’d been surprised when The Halcyon had offered her a job as a maid, she had no prior experience and was certain they’d reject her. However, she supposes that in the midst of a war, beggars can’t be choosers, and they are likely as desperate as she is.

Her morning has been spent helping out Kate, a firm but friendly Irish girl, who has taught her how to turn down a bed and scrub a toilet until it gleams white and shiny again. It’s tiring work, the maze of rooms on every floor feels endless, and between being scolded for wrinkled sheets and improperly folded towels she is exhausted, grateful to retreat to the back room once she’s told she can take her lunch break.

Unwrapping the wax paper on the sandwich she’d packed earlier that morning, she wrinkles her nose in disgust. It no longer seems as appetising now that it’s been left to sit in her bag for hours.

She looks up as the door creaks open, a tall, young lad in a bell boy’s uniform walks in. He offers her a tight lipped smile by way of greeting, cheeks turning slightly pink as he moves to retrieve his own sandwich.

“You on your lunch as well?” She asks warmly. Having only spoken properly to Kate so far, she is eager to make friends.

“Yeah,” he says, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite hers at the table, “you mind if I, er…?”

“No, sit down,” she tells him, watching intently as he takes a seat and starts to unwrap his own food.

“Not seen you before,” he comments, looking up at her.

“First day,” she fiddles with the wax paper of her lunch, “I’m knackered.”

“Don’t I know it,” he says, loosening his cap and placing it upon the table. “Lost a guest’s dog this morning. Bloody thing slipped the lead when I tried to walk it.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, but she is unable to stifle the giggle that escapes her. At least someone is having a worse day than she is. “And I thought I had it bad scrubbing toilets.”

“You not eating that then?” He says, nodding towards her sandwich before taking a bite of his own.

She grimaces. “Fish paste. Not sure I can stomach it.”

He nods, talking around a mouthful of food, a habit she would ordinarily find disgusting, but she finds it doesn’t offend her when he does it. “Spam in mine. Mum makes ‘em. Same thing every day.” He swallows before he speaks again, with a slight raise of his eyebrows. “Tell you what, give me half of yours, I’ll give you half of mine. Less boring that way.”

“Yeah, alright,” she grins, sliding hers across to him. She watches as he takes half and then places the remaining part of his in the empty space.

“I’m Billy, by the way,” he tells her, the tips of his ears reddening, suddenly shy again.

“Thanks for the sandwich, Billy,” she says softly, before telling him her name.

They eat their lunch in comfortable silence, until finally it’s time to get back to work.

In the week that follows, her and Billy have lunch together every day, swapping sandwich halves and chatting about their days. The work is hard, but knowing she has a friend gives her something to look forward to, and she finds herself excited to go to work each day.

They talk about anything and everything, their hour-long break always feeling like it evaporates all too quickly. She tells him all about her dad fighting overseas against the Germans, and how she took her job at the Halcyon to bring home extra money for her mum, who’s currently doing factory work for the same reason. Billy tells her that he’ll be eighteen soon, and can’t wait to be drafted. His mum, Peggy, operates the switchboard at the hotel, his dad isn’t around anymore, so she relies on his help to look after his little sister, who he affectionately refers to as “the squirt”.

Shared lunch breaks evolve into after hours games of poker with the rest of the Halcyon staff. They crowd into the back room, sitting around the same table that her and Billy share lunch at, and play for cigarettes.

She feels her skin grow hot as their knees brush together, unable to help the smile that tugs at her lips as she watches Billy’s brow furrow in confusion as he looks over his cards, a lit cigarette perched between his lips.

“You’re smoking your stake, Billy,” she says with a soft chuckle.

He looks sheepishly at her, plucking the cigarette from between his lips, before throwing his cards down onto the table with a sigh. “Doesn’t matter anyway, I’ve got all Jacks.”

“Billy!” Everyone groans around the table in frustration, chucking their own cards down.

She laughs heartily. He might have ruined the game, but it’s impossible to be angry at him when his big blue eyes go wide and his lips part in shock.

Billy looks adorable when he’s worried, and it’s an expression he wears often; when he accidentally drops guests’ luggage down the stairs, the time he shuts a lady’s skirt in the lift doors, and especially when she leads him to the scullery, telling him there’s a surprise for him.

His concern quickly morphs into one of his trademark, tight smiles that indicate he’s feeling bashful, as head chef, George, flanked by the rest of the kitchen staff, carries out an enormous birthday cake lit with candles.

“You didn’t think you could hide it from us, did you, Billy?” George jokes, once the obligatory “happy birthday” song has been sung. “Eighteen today!”

She has her first taste of Champagne that day, each member of staff is given a class to toast to Billy. The bubbles tickle her nose, the taste is dry but not unpleasant upon her palate, yet it does nothing to dilute the bitterness that blooms heavy in her chest.

Billy’s turned eighteen, he’ll be drafted any day now and she’ll lose her best friend. No more shared sandwiches, no more ruined games of poker, no more stolen moments in the housekeeping closet where they laugh uncontrollably over stupid jokes. She’s going to lose Billy, just as she’s lost her dad to this stupid war.

Her heartache is given a brief moment of respite when she looks over at him, also indulging in his first taste of Champagne, and sees the way his face contorts in disgust at the taste. He’s always able to make her smile, even when she doesn’t want to.

It’s only a week later that Billy’s letter arrives. Due to Peggy’s meddling, he won’t be going overseas, he’ll be stationed at the nearby army barracks helping to man the anti aircraft guns. She is secretly pleased that he won’t be too far away, despite his annoyance at his mum’s interference. She feels she could kiss Peggy, such is the depth of her gratitude for what she’s done, but she does her best to hide how pleased she is, comforting Billy, saying how sorry she is for him.

“Cheer up, it might never happen,” he says with a soft smile, as they stand in the hotel foyer. Billy wears his day clothes, having handed his uniform in at the end of his final shift at The Halcyon.

“Already has,” she replies sadly, her heart twinging as she looks up into the big, blue eyes she’s grown to adore.

“How d’you mean?” He asks, frowning slightly.

“You, going off to war,” she sighs, “I won’t see you again.”

“Don’t be daft,” he chuckles, “I’ll only be down the road.”

“You won’t have time for me, Billy.”

He swallows, averting his gaze briefly before meeting her eye once more. “I don’t like fish paste.”

“What?” She asks, squinting slightly, confused.

“I’ve spent the last six months eating fish paste sarnies, just so I’d have an excuse to spend my lunch break with you. Fish paste is disgusting, if I can stomach that then it’ll take more than a stupid war to keep me away from you.”

Her heart flutters, her vision turning misty as a wide smile spreads its way across her features. “Oh, Billy…” she whispers.

Her fingers flex uselessly at her sides, desperate to reach out to him, and she sees his do the same. An opposing, invisible force hangs heavy between them, filled with unspoken declarations, drawing them together and yet pushing them apart simultaneously, until finally they collide in a tight, all encompassing hug.

He smells of Brylcreem and tobacco, and she inhales deeply, committing his scent to memory. She doesn’t want to let go, yet she does, she has to.

Adjusting to life at The Halcyon without Billy around is difficult. Lunch breaks feel empty and lifeless, the poker nights are not the same.

Billy still visits, though his presence is not as frequent as it was before. He’s usually accompanied by his little sister, carrying her into the hotel on piggyback before going to see Peggy in the switchboard room.

To her delight, he makes a point of seeking her out each time. He looks handsome in his uniform, filled with a confidence he didn’t have before. Animatedly, he tells her all about the anti aircraft guns, enthusiastically mimicking the sounds they make, causing her to laugh.

On her eighteenth birthday, Billy turns up at the hotel, looking dapper as ever in his khaki green trousers and jacket. He pulls her into the housekeeping cupboard, shifting the bag he has on his shoulder awkwardly.

“Happy birthday,” he says to her, almost nervous sounding, “got you something.”

She gasps, as he produces a large orange from his bag, handing it to her. The skin is firm in her hands. It’s been a long time since she’s had any fruit that isn’t mock banana; rationing and the lack of imports due to the war mean that it’s produce that’s hard to come by. The hotel’s chief concierge routinely has to decline the requests of high profile guests that request fresh fruit as part of their room service. She turns the orange around in her hands looking at it reverently.

“Where did you get this?” She stares up at him, wide-eyed. “Not even Feldman can get oranges!”

Billy shrugs, blushing slightly. “Oh, y’know, I’ve got my ways.”

“Thank you, Billy,” she says, voice filled with soft sincerity. An idea strikes her, excitement swirling in her stomach. “We should share it!”

“Really?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, unless…” she deflates as realisation of how busy he is now hits her, “you probably can’t get away, it’s a silly idea.” She shakes her head, embarrassment warming her flesh.

He steps forward, eager to reassure her. “No, I’ve got time, I can make time. I’ll come back tomorrow?”

She looks up at him, smiling brightly. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

He nods, half turning towards the door. “Well, I should probably–”

“Billy?” She calls to him and he turns back, a look of question on his face, eyebrows raised slightly.

She surges forward, pressing her lips firmly against his cheek, kissing it, before she quickly pulls away again.

For a moment it looks as though Billy has stopped breathing as she watches him, her heart pounding in her chest. Finally, he exhales deeply, his face blushing bright red. He grins and she smiles back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Billy.”

“Yeah…yeah, tomorrow,” he says, adjusting his bag on his shoulder again, before slipping out of the closet door.

He stays true to his promise and the following day they go to the back room, the same place where they have shared so many lunches. This time they sit beside each other, instead of on opposite sides of the table.

Carefully, she slices the orange into segments, giving half to Billy.

The fruit is fleshy and sweet as she bites into it, the tartness of the citrus causing her to emit a satisfied hum as she chews and swallows it.

She looks over at Billy, huffing a laugh as she watches the way the juice drips down his chin.

He looks back, frowning slightly. “What?”

“Come here, you’ve got…” she leans over, wiping the orange residue away with her thumb. Her movements slow, her hand lingering against his face as her eyes settle upon his.

It feels like time stops as their gaze locks, her breath catches in her throat. She is unsure of who moves first, but their lips are against each other, moving slowly at first, filled with uncertainty and inexperience.

He tastes sweet, and their mouths move with more enthusiasm, both able to taste orange upon each other.

They keep their foreheads pressed together once they part for air, both smiling softly.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the day I met you,” he whispers.

Their relationship shifts from that moment. Billy is unable to take her on dates, can’t bring her flowers, his time at the barracks doesn’t allow for that. They have only a series of stolen moments in the hotel to share, sneaking into rooms which have yet to be made up to spend time together.

It is all sweet kisses and warm cuddles, neither one of them ready to take the steps that go beyond that yet.

She lays against Billy’s chest on the unmade bed, his arm wrapped around her as the other moves his hand through her hair, stroking it. “Hate that I can’t take you out anywhere fancy,” he murmurs.

“I don’t need any of that,” she reassures him, “just you coming back to me alive is enough.”

“You deserve that though,” he insists, hugging her tighter to him, “when this war is over, I’m gonna take you out for dinner. We’ll get married, and we’ll have a house and fill it full of kids.”

Her chest fills with warmth as she grins up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes soft and filled with fondness as he looks at her, “because…well, because I love you.”

Her grin grows wider and she kisses him deeply, feeling the way the skin of his face flushes beneath her fingertips.

“I love you too,” she whispers as she pulls away.

Their dynamic shifts again after that, their cosy stolen mornings become more heated, their kisses more impassioned, every touch is charged with intent.

Where she felt uncertain and scared of what lies beyond innocent kissing before, she now feels only desire for Billy, but isn’t sure of how to communicate this with him.

He pulls away from her as they share a passionate embrace, trailing kisses over her neck. “Can I try something with you?” He whispers.

“What is it?” She asks, whining softly as he pulls away from her.

“Something that one of the lads at the barracks told me about,” he says, not meeting her eye, “it’s how he pleases his missus, thought you might like it.”

She laughs softly, nervously. “Okay, but what is it?”

He swallows thickly, turning scarlet. “Can I just show you? I’m embarrassed to say.”

She nods, eager to see what he’ll do.

“Lay back for me,” he instructs, and she does, watching him through hooded eyes.

Tentatively, he moves down the messy hotel bed, pushing the skirt of her maid’s uniform above her hips, revealing her knickers and stockings. He bites his lip at the sight, never having seen her in such a state of undress before.

She gasps, her eyes going wide, sudden fear filling her. “Billy, we can’t–”

“No, not that,” he’s quick to reassure her, “not until we’re…you’re ready.”

She breathes a sigh of relief, relaxing slightly.

“But…” his eyes flit up to hers, filled with uncertainty, “I do need to take your underwear off. Is that alright?”

She gulps. She’s scared, but also curious and excited, she wants to experience whatever it is that Billy has asked to try. “Yeah,” she says quietly, “yeah, that’s alright.”

Gently and slowly, his nimble fingers drag her knickers away from her body and down her legs, discarding them at the end of the bed.

She has the sudden urge to hide her face as he takes in the sight of her, pupils wide with lust. She is torn between wanting to look away and the desire to watch exactly what he’s doing as he carefully coaxes her legs apart.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, “I-I’ve never done this before.”

She gasps as she feels his tongue move against her, hesitantly exploring her folds. The motion of his mouth between her legs is unsure at first, but as his tongue flicks over her pearl and she lets out a surprised moan of pleasure, Billy grows more confident.

He repeats the motion, causing her to squirm and mewl. It feels so intimate, she wants to pull away, filled with shame, to tell him it’s dirty and they shouldn’t be doing this, but at the same time, every time his tongue moves against that particular spot she never wants him to stop.

“God, you taste good,” he mumbles against her.

The movement of his tongue becomes more certain, determined and he laves at her, flicking against the spot that causes her to whimper and grip the bed sheets tightly.

She can feel a pressure building within her, intensifying with every sweep of Billy’s tongue, until finally as he groans against her, circling her bud once more, it reaches its apex and she shudders against him with a surprised cry, feeling boneless as warmth washes over her like the lapping waves of the sea.

“Oh, my god, Billy…'' She breathes heavily.

He lifts his face from between her thighs, a smile on his face, his chin coated in her juices just as it was when they’d shared the orange. She can’t resist the urge to tug him up towards her, kissing him hungrily.

They giggle against each other's lips, both of them breathless.

“I…er…need to clean myself up before I head back,” he tells her, his mouth forming a tight smile, the telltale sign of his shyness that she’s grown to love.

She follows his line of sight to the wet patch on the crotch of his uniform trousers and they both erupt into uncontrollable laughs.

Oh, Billy.

Part two | Series masterlist

#billy taylor #ewan mitchell #the halcyon #billy taylor x reader #billy taylor x y/n #billy taylor x you #billy taylor imagine #billy taylor smut #billy taylor fan fiction #billy taylor fanfiction #billy taylor fan fic #billy taylor fanfic #the halcyon fan fiction #the halcyon fanfiction #the halcyon fan fic #the halcyon fanfic #billy taylor the halcyon

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anjelicawrites · 3 months ago

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Look what the amazing and talented @zaldritzosrose made for the polys!!! I'm not going to be normal about those beautiful pieces of art today! Tomorrow? Not likely. Next week? I can't promise anything!!!

Look how perfect each board is for each poly!!! I think I'm going to scream some more!!!

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thought--bubble · 1 year ago

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☣Banners & Dividers by: @arcielee ☣

☣Stunning Will Header by @zaldritzosrose ☣

ℍ𝕚!

𝕀'𝕞 𝕁𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕟 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪:

𝔼𝕨𝕒𝕟 𝕄𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕝

𝕀 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕕𝕕 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕓𝕪 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝔸𝕖𝕘𝕠𝕟 𝕀𝕀 𝕓𝕪 𝕋𝕠𝕞 𝔾𝕝𝕪𝕟𝕟 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕪.

𝕀'𝕞 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 20'𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕒𝕞 𝕒 𝕓𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕟 𝕖𝕞𝕠 𝕜𝕚𝕕. 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕠 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝕤𝕙𝕪 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕠𝕦𝕥!

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tomhiddleston · 1 year ago

Text

One More Tomorrow (Billy Taylor x Fem!Reader) - Chapter I.

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

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.

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.

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!”

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.”

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.

#billy taylor x reader #billy taylor x fem!reader #billy taylor x you #billy taylor #the halcyon #the halcyon fanfic #the halcyon itv #ewan mitchell #one more tomorrow

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