Need Them Both Now Please

having the bily butcher brain-rot is funny cause one moment ill be like "i want him i absolutely want him need him to be mean to me and absolutely ruin me" and the next ill be like "i just want him to hold me in his arms as i sit in his lap and nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck bc he's giving me all these sweet compliments with his deep raspy voice and im getting all shy"

THIS

this is the essence of billy butcher brainrot

like i absolutely need him to be like that with me

and i know that he absolutely would be. He may be a cunt but he is a soft cunt at heart only for you

And you also never know when he will be soft or hard

One second he is fucking the living shit out of you, choking you and slapping your ass and the next he is giving you forehead kisses, telling you how pretty you look and how good you make him feel.

I need a man like him

give me 10 vodka redbulls and an ipod with unlimited music (preferably all of Chappell Roan and Lady Gaga music) and send me to the House of The dragon timeline so they can think i'm their god and i can go and finally tell Alicent to fuck all of it and go marry Rhaenyra before it's too late

Spencer Reid is so ‘The Prophecy’ coded it hurts my soul

i know that i need them both in me, at the same time, no lube, no protection, day and night

he could put that out on me tbf

25 y.o men on tinder in my area either look like they have 5 paid off mortgages, are balding fast and remember the great depression or like they are 15 and play Fortnite and yell at their mother cause she told them dinner is ready

there are actors who are typecast and then there is Jensen Ackles who has been successfully typecasting himself for years

thigh riding butcher… hnngh

he will make you ride his thigh while he explains the plan to the boys

everyone is embarrassed except for him, he is thriving and not giving a fuck, while you, my dear, are dying inside from the embarrassment and the fact that this setting is actually making you turned on.

you're doing everything in your power to not let out any embarrassing noises, hiding your head in the crook of butcher's neck, biting him occasionally when it gets too much.

he loves teasing you like that

but later when he ends and everyone leaves you two alone and the speed of light?

he is on you, ripping your clothes apart, making you ride his jean clad thigh, leaving one big, wet, visible mark when you come.

he does not care that you are tired, after this, he is making you ride his dick and of you are just too tired he will manhandle you to any position he wants, like a ragdoll, fucking you on every piece of furniture he can.

my writing is more a stream of consciousness, idc that it may not make sense, it's butcher for goodness sake he makes my mind blank and full at the same time

started watching the boys recently but tbh all i care about are billy butcher’s glistening bouncing hairy triple d cup tiddies

Too Sweet

Pairing: Billy Butcher x fem!reader

Word Count: 700-ish (Just a blurb, I’m working on longer stuff but I wanted to give y’all something. As a treat)

Warnings: Reader is described as being feminine and somewhat high maintenance (in terms of self-care), Billiam being a pervy old man, Butch wanting to corrupt reader, and reader alluded to being a lil kinky. In summation, he breaks into your room and jacks off in your bed pair of your panties. Y’know, the usual.

Author’s Note: I’m genuinely so sorry if this sucks booty cheeks. I also know this isn’t the fic I mentioned, but I had to feed the fellow rats. If you have any feedback AT ALL, please let me know. I appreciate the response I’ve gotten on all of my little drabbles. I’d love to respond to prompts and brainrot, as well, so hit me up! I love y’all!

smut below the cut • 18+ mdi

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Butcher knows you're too sweet for him.

Yet, here he was, in your room that you always seemed to leave unlocked. He's splayed out on your mattress; that's way too comfortable to be in a shithole bunker. Your space smelled divine. The scent of all the sweet lotion, body oil, perfume, and whatever in the feminine fuck you wore seemed to be everywhere.

In his drunken stupor, he'd stumbled into your room instead of his own. At least, that's what he'd continue to tell himself. After flopping onto your plush bedding, he clumsily grabbed a photo off your nightstand and squinted. You and Hughie beamed back at him through the frame.

"Mmm, pretty little thing, ain'cha?" He mumbled and moved to rest a boot on the opposite knee, but felt something under the weight of his foot. He sat up on his elbows and looked at the obnoxiously girly fabric now resting on his thigh. "What do we have here?"

The baby pink, cherry-patterned panties were soft against his calloused palms. Billy whistled lowly, running his thumb along the lace on the hem. He rested the picture frame on his lap so he could hold them with two hands. Of fucking course, they had a little bow on the front.

"Well, ain't that just typical?" The swelling stiffness in his pants was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Butcher dropped his boot back to the floor with a heavy thud. His mussed, dark head of hair met your silky pillows. He hummed in faux contemplation.

He'd like to say he felt guilty, or gross, about what he was about to do. His senses were too clouded by your scent, both from your fragrances and the panties crammed around his nose, to protest. You smelled even better than he'd dreamed. You were so fucking sweet.

"Fuuuuckin' hell.." Billy's guttural groan was muffled by the frilly fabric. His free hand had fallen to his fly. He moaned as he was finally free from the confines of his jeans. He was grateful that he’d gone commando again. He took one final, deep inhale as his eyes rolled into his skull. His cock twitched at the action. He needed you carnally.

His hand was furiously fisting his cock now. Your adorable undergarment felt perfect against his angry, leaking tip. He moaned unabashedly at the photo of you. He'd seen the way you looked at him. It was so precious. He couldn't possibly let you be with someone like him, though. right?

Butcher thought about those cherry-flavored, glossy lips wrapped around him. He bucked at the idea of your wispy lashes fluttering as he made you squirm. He shivered at the picture of your perfectly manicured nails digging into the muscles of his back. He panted at the notion of your sweet, intoxicating scent wafting at him as you bounced on his cock. His perfect little doll, his sweet girl.

Billy came with an alarmingly loud, strangled cry of your name and clapped a hand over his mouth. He watched the white, hot ropes hit the bottom of his Hawaiian shirt and smear over your panties. God, he had to run everything he touched, didn't he? He paused, realizing that somehow, you'd still remained this way despite being taken under his wing. He hadn't ruined or tainted you, not yet.

He hastily cleaned himself up with the fabric, wincing at the contact. He tucked himself back into his jeans and huffed at the sensation. He was about to pocket your panties, but he decided against it. He'd give you something to think about tonight. He dropped the panties where he'd found them with a grin. He left your sheets purposefully unkempt, secretly hoping he'd left behind some of his masculine musk. Maybe he’d hear her pretty, wanton whimpers through their shared wall, again. He hoped so.

On his way past your dresser, he opened the top drawer. Bingo. He grabbed another pair of panties and pocketed those. He made note of the fuzzy pink handcuffs, the girthy pink didlo, and the rose toy that also resides in the drawer. He snickered, leaving the drawer open. Just in case his hints flew over your head, which they often did, he left a cigarette behind. Surely, that’d do it. All Billy had to do was wait for his deceivingly sweet, innocent girl to come to him.

This would be fun.

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