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€uro Tra$h Series: Dipped in $ugar (Part 2)

Pairing: Billy Butcher x You (Reader) || Rating: Explicit || Word Count: 3.3k || Link to Part 1 and Link to Part 3 - final (Timeline for this work is Season 1 btw)

Summary: Billy comes back from work with The Boys. He can't say what he was up to, but makes sure your wait for him is worth it.

Author’s Note: Really happy to post this sequel as I appreciated the love and feedback Part 1 got. Would like to know how this work compares to Part 1 (I feel like I let this one go more lol, tried to make the smut a little hotter, and be intentional with pacing the story) and hear any writing advice in general. I’m excited and enjoying getting back into it!

Warnings: same as before — sugar daddy / daddy kink (use of the name daddy 2 times), age gap (implied, not specified), swearing, protected p in v, tiny bit of choking and degrading reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up startled. The sound of several deep, booming male voices arguing outside the room reverberated through the door. You hardly had time to blink the sleepiness out of your eyes before the latch unlocked and Billy came striding in followed noisily by three other men all talking at once. You lifted your head and instinctively covered your arms around your frontside even though you were completely clothed.

“Jesus, fuck!” one of the men exclaimed, just as startled. “Butcher, who the hell—”

The sound of a heavy, blunt metal object clattering onto the table cut off the question and made you flinch as Billy stared at your rigid figure laying on the bed.

“ ‘m sorry, sweetheart, thought you would’ve left by now,” he said.

Your eyes flitted between him, the group of strangers frozen in place on the motel’s sage green carpet, and the large semi-automatic rifle laying next to your half eaten dinner. You forced yourself to take a shaky breath as you noticed Butcher’s battered physique — in fact — you realized all of them were in pretty bad shape: clothes tattered, arms cut and bruised, faces caked in sweat, grime, and dried blood. Each had at least one handgun tucked into the waistband of his pants.

“I’m going to get us another room,” the tall, skinny man announced awkwardly. “Come with me, Frenchie.” The shortest man nodded, took a moment to shift his gaze between you and Billy, then back to meet your eyes in a gentle glance as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he darted out quickly.

“Un-fucking-believable. This where you been fucking off to, Butcher?” the man who was left asked, glaring at Billy. “How fucking old is she, by the way?”

“She’s a fucking consenting adult so mind your fucking business,” Billy shot back.

“I would, if your business, like maybe the fucking plan tonight, didn’t always end up fucked up.”

Billy had been staring off at the far end of the room, but now turned toward his associate. He took one, slow, menacing step forward, squaring up chest to chest with the man, who was honestly built like a truck. Billy was obviously huge, but this guy’s biceps alone were bigger than your head. Billy’s gray eyes were piercing and stone cold, which you’d never seen before. They never broke contact with the pair of brown eyes across from him. You held your breath waiting for the first swing that never came.

Billy’s voice was low and sounded angry, yet also eerily calm when he spoke.

“You lot are the ones who called me for help. The fucking plan tonight was me doing my fucking best to clean up your mess. So I can fuck off where ever I want with whoever I want because I’m not the one who needs a fucking babysitter. Next time you get in trouble when you go off on your own, MM, call Janine’s nanny.”

The man’s jaw was clenched so tight as he glared at Billy, you thought it would pop. After the longest silent minute you ever had to sit through passed, he shook his head, turning to you. “I’m sorry we scared you. I’m just pissed at this asshole.” With a final angry scowl thrown in Billy’s direction, the last mystery guy pivoted to exit.

As abruptly as the room had been filled, it had emptied. The distance between Billy and you felt like miles in that small, cramped room, alone. You checked the time on the digital clock on the nightstand and did the mental math of how many hours you’d been asleep. You didn’t even remember falling asleep, but from your estimate, you calculated Billy had been gone for five hours. Whether you wanted to find out what happened in those five hours, you weren't sure.

You didn’t move a muscle, and neither did he as he sat against the table, arms crossed over his chest with one hand holding his bearded chin. His body was tense, his face hardened and unreadable. His eyes stared out in front of him, deep in thought. The silence hung heavy like the humid summer air in a New York City alleyway.

You felt confused, but mostly scared. Your heart was pounding in your ears from shock, your breathing was shallow and uneven as if you were recovering from a run, and the tension held throughout your body, culminating in your chest, was almost painful. Yet you couldn’t tell if you were scared of him or for him. It leaned toward the latter.

“That was work?” Your voice came out smaller than you wanted.

Billy straightened up slowly, making eye contact with you for the first time since he’d returned.

“ ‘Fraid so, luv.”

That already sounded like the end of the conversation.

Billy moved to sit at the foot of the bed and started undressing, kicking off his shoes first. You scooted up so you were sitting against the pillows again and hugged your knees into your chest. It was cold because the air conditioning had been running when you accidentally fell asleep, but you didn’t want to get under the covers in case that crossed a line.

You didn’t normally stay the night and sleep with Billy; actually, it had only happened once, when he hit you up on such a whim, you both arrived at the hotel at the same time. The front desk staff only gave a couple weird looks when you two checked in, but Billy being his usual, completely unfazed self helped you ignore any awkwardness you felt. He had appeared a bit disheveled that night, but it was nothing compared to how he seemed right now. You didn’t even have sex; all he did was sleep next to you, one arm wrapped around your waist. He stirred slightly every time you reached for the TV remote or shifted to a more comfortable position, but in the morning when he unceremoniously handed you your payment, he mentioned it was the best sleep he’d gotten in a long while.

“How’d you get here?” Billy asked as he took the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head.

Your voice was a little stronger, but still quiet. “I drove.”

He nodded absentmindedly. “Offer still stands. You don’t needa stay.”

“It’s okay. It’s late. I’d rather not drive at this time.”

He stood to remove his jeans.

“Unless you rather I go,” you added, quickly. Maybe he wanted to be alone after whatever the hell he went through with his coworkers.

“Don’t matter to me,” he replied plainly, shrugging and bending his arms at the elbow, palms facing up as he walked to the bathroom.

This time, Billy stayed in there longer, which made you feel like the amount of time spent waiting with your fifty burning questions you assumed he wouldn’t answer anyways was more than twenty minutes. He went straight for the bed when he came out and untucked the covers on his side to crawl under right next to you. The mattress springs creaked under his weight as he sank in slowly on his back, trying not to wince. After his second shower of the night, he had patched himself up with several bandaids and medical tape wrapped around a couple fingers and his left wrist.

Before you had the chance to stand and wash up in the bathroom yourself, Billy rested his hand against your thigh down by your knee. You immediately relaxed the muscles you didn’t notice were still tense.

“I know you probably have a million questions. I can’t answer ‘em.”

You looked at him understandingly, as if it was totally acceptable to be kept in the dark in regards to the whereabouts of a man whose BFG-50 was still pointing in your general direction, but at least he was straightforward.

“You were never meant to know,” he added.

Now that made you furrow your brows. Know what? You literally didn’t know anything about his life because he’s never told you anything. You and Billy were not close. Your irregular meetings meant you didn’t have a connection built with him like you did with other sugar daddies you saw frequently. Sure, you were madly attracted to him, borderline obsessed, but you were far from friends sharing secrets. The nature of your arrangement was always business, and said business was the epitome of “get that bread, get that head, then leave.” It was work you enjoyed, but the opportunity for meaningful conversation was severely limited.

Billy’s hand slid up your leg and you stiffened again. He slowed, but kept traveling up past your hip to the middle of your back, turning his body onto his side closer to you, his other hand wrapping around your stomach, until you realized he was simply pulling you into a hug. You tucked yourself under his bearded chin and inhaled his scent off his bare chest, his fuzzy hairs tickling your nose.

Now that his adrenaline levels were down, his naturally rough voice was a tad softer. “You shouldn’t be scared of me.”

He spoke in a way that made you think he was not saying to stop your emotions, but externally processing the full realization of how the guys’ surprise entrance and his argument with his buddy affected you.

“Not scared of you,” you explained. “I was concerned for you.”

Billy’s chest rumbled with a chuckle. “Earlier you thought MM might’ve killed me right then and there? Not a chance, darlin’.”

You shook your head. Being witness to angry men sizing each other up can be terrifying, yes, but you hesitated telling him the truth about how you were still unsettled by their bounty-hunters-who-got-badly-beat look.

“You're stiff as a board, luv,” he commented, gently separating you both and bringing one hand to lift your chin to look at him. It was true, you still hadn’t fully relaxed at any point since he’d been back.

Except at this moment — when his lips connected to yours. And you melted.

It was probably the most tender kiss Billy had ever given you, but it didn’t stay that way for long. His tongue started it first, slowly going deeper into your mouth every time he took a breath, but it was your hands that gripped him tighter until your legs became tangled and your hips grinded together. You loved a makeout session that forced you to lose all your senses to where you could only handle hearing, taste, and touch. With your eyes closed, your sight disappears, and since your nose has to concentrate on helping your lungs obtain oxygen, you’re not really focused on smelling. But the sound, taste, and feeling of Billy in your arms is enough to overwhelm you. The longer you go at it, the heavier both of your breathing becomes, interspersed with short gasps and moans, the sloppier your taste buds get in exploring every centimeter of the other’s mouth, and the more desperate your hands are to tug, squeeze, and mold to the shape of your partner’s best assets.

You didn’t usually take your time kissing either, maybe because you typically met on a time crunch, or you were just extremely horny around each other, so you tended to skip to the main event pretty quickly. But you got the sense that because of the night’s earlier situation, Billy wanted to slow down to make sure your head was in an okay space before proceeding, or not. You appreciated that; it was a gentlemanly move. You made sure he knew you were ready for more by rolling on top of him, straddling his hips, and grinding down against his hardening cock, all while keeping your fingers interlocked behind his neck and your lips mashed onto his. Billy responded eagerly, his fingertips gliding across the soft, smooth skin of your back, and creeping underneath your shirt to unhook your bra. He didn’t even bother to remove any of your top layers before feeling up your chest. You refrained from any wanton noises while he kneaded your breasts, but you did bite his lower lip a little extra hard when he teased your nipples.

When you finally separated, the shift of your bodies made you well aware of the wetness in your underwear, and you were practically panting, your hands still roaming his torso because they couldn't decide whether to grip his muscular back, shoulders, or arms.

“The other offer from earlier,” Billy said, his hands sliding down to your ass, giving it a squeeze, “also still stands.”

Catching your breath, you were so nervous of sounding utterly gone already without even being naked, all you could do was nod.

“That a yes? Want me to fuck you ‘til you’re screaming my name, princess?”

“God yes,” you almost moaned. “Please, Daddy.”

You were pretty sure he could hear the urgency in your voice, but you made it crystal clear how badly you needed him by cupping the imprint of his dick through his boxers. Billy grunted in response, and in less than two seconds, he flipped you both over and discarded your leggings and panties carelessly out of the way. Now you were both playing with each other — you stroking his length while any number of his fingers rubbed your clit and teased your folds.

“It’s more than wet down here, luv; you’re soaked,” he chuckled against your neck, his hot breath hitting your ear.

It made you shiver, but at the same time, you were burning up, so you whipped off your shirt and bra. He wasted no time diving in to suck one of your nipples to a hardened peak. When he did the same to its twin, you finally gave in to the loud moan that had been gathering in your throat. Billy released his mouth with a pop and gazed down at you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he said, his eyes hungrily raking over your nude figure before he stood to finally take off his one article of clothing and retrieve a condom.

“That cock block of a call was bloody inconvenient,” Billy muttered as he rolled on the latex and lined himself up to your entrance. “Can’t wait to feel this sweet fucking pussy.”

His last word was punctuated by him sliding in fast and deep. Even though you watched him disappear inside you, you were still caught by surprise, evident in your eyes rolling back into your skull while your mouth formed a silent “O.”

Billy was so goddamn huge and he knew it.

“Somethin’ tells me your other daddies ain’t cuttin’ it,” he smirked. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, just grabbed your hips and set the tenacious tempo he wanted.

“They don’t fuck me like this,” you admitted through heavy breaths, reaching to bring him closer. Your hands settled on his lower back and he leaned forward, his arms moving to either side of your head to prop himself up above you.

“Like what?”

You knew what he wanted you to say. Like I’m a slut. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction so soon, even if it was true and you loved it. Your ability to form a coherent response was waning rapidly from his hips pounding into you anyways. The rhythmic slapping of his skin against yours made your brain go numb.

“Like what, darlin’?” Billy repeated. His right thumb swiped against your lower lip, ready to press into your mouth, while he pulled out and stopped, barely leaving his tip in you. The sudden emptiness brought you out of your daze. You opened your half lidded eyes to find his dark pupils peering down at you.

“Like—like you use me.”

“‘Course I do; what else are ya for?” he snarled.

His hand trailed down, fingers surrounding your neck, squeezing it just enough to hold you down to resume his relentless pace, sinking in deeper and deeper with every thrust.

All your sugar daddies “used” you so to speak, and you obviously used them for money. But with Billy, it never felt like you were fulfilling an obligation to the bit. It was almost natural to sink into the mindset of being nothing but a tool for his pleasure. It was easy because there was something so, so hot about laying spread open for him, allowing him to fuck you any way he wanted, and not caring how rough he was. Knowing you would be left to find bruises and deal with sore legs for the next few days after taking his cock excited you in the most feral, animalistic way.

You let your body go limp and closed your eyes to focus on the sensation of Billy’s dick continuing to stretch you out while he growled more filth disguised as praise in your ear. You were so distracted by his voice urging you to be a good little slut and let your wet cunt come all over his cock because you sounded so pretty moaning his name, you didn’t notice him lick two of his fingers and send them down between your bodies. If you weren't already laying down, the zap of pleasure that shot straight through your stomach from him circling your clit would have made your knees buckle. You were almost embarrassed at how fast your pussy clenched, though you knew it was just a compliment to Billy.

“Don’t be shy, luv,” he chided, as if he was reading your mind.

You gasped as your climax continued to build with each delicious stroke of his hips. The friction was like fire against your nerves, so close to setting your whole body ablaze. Billy was breathing hard now too, sweat beading at his brow. The thumping of the bed against the wall had long been ignored, but now was completely drowned out by Billy’s grunts and groans of how good you felt around him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Like your cunt was made to fit my cock.”

That elicited a loud, unrestrained moan from you. “Daddy,” you whimpered. It was futile to try to hold out longer. Your body craved release. “I’m gona—fuck.”

Your body seized and your mind went blank as pure ecstasy washed over you. The chant of his name filled the space and you wrapped your legs around his waist, sending him impossibly deeper. Billy groaned feeling your pussy contract around him, his climax following close behind. With a last couple thrusts, he shuddered to a stop as he milked himself dry.

Chest to chest, with Billy’s head resting next to yours on the pillow, you slowly came down from your high, unintentionally clenching his softening length as your breathing steadied.

He gave your sweaty forehead a quick peck as he rose up, removing his hand from your throat. You had honestly forgotten it was there, so engrossed in how your lower half had been responding to him. Billy carefully slipped out of you and took care of the condom while you adjusted the bed sheets.

Then he approached you with his wallet and held out two bills. “For staying the night,” he offered.

You shook your head while waving them off with a flip of your hand, not even looking at the number on them. You hadn’t checked the original amount he left in the envelope on the nightstand, but you figured he probably already paid more than what would be equivalent to the actual amount of hours you spent interacting.

“Special deal; cuddles are free, tonight only,” you smiled softly.

Billy returned a small, amused smile. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Oh, I’m very comfortable,” you sighed, opening up the blankets to let him under, and settling into the crook of his arm.

“Good, darlin’,” he replied with a yawn, his warm body pressed against yours, lulling you to sleep.

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