My fields of Elation

Anyway. Billy and Becca domming a male reader together? Becca being all soft about it and Billy being mean as usual... Sigh I love them.

You can totally say no but yk. Just. Your writing makes me !!!!

Hey bestie! So glad to see you with another fantastic request! Sorry it took me a while to publish..hope you like it!

Good Pup

MDNI!!

-Warnings:Graphic Sexual Content, M/M/F, Male Reader x Dom!Billy Butcher x Dom!Becca Butcher,Power Imbalance, Daddy/Mommy Kink, Pet Names, Praise & Degradation, Oral,Anal Sex, Handjob, Ejaculation,Dirty Talk, Strong Language.

-Summary: After a long day at the safe house, the last thing you expect is to become the centre of Billy and Becca’s attention. One offers warmth, the other demands obedience..but together, they make it impossible to tell where comfort ends and control begins.

————

The safe house air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and the hum of fluorescent lights, the silence agonizing after a fourteen hour shift of scouring files. The rest of the Boys were out on a mission, leaving the three of you in a heavy, pressurized isolation. You were slumped in a chair, exhausted but the tension in the room wasn't from the work..it was the magnetic pull of Billy and Becca, who had been watching you with predatory patience all day.

Billy slammed a heavy folder shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot. "Finally," he grunted, his accent thick, his words clipped and mangled. "Done wiv this shite. Brain's absolute mush, ain't it?"

Becca stood up, her movements fluid and controlled as she walked over to you. She reached out, her hand cool and soft as she brushed your hair back, her smile warm enough to make you feel like you were the only person in the world. "It’s been a long day, hasn’t it, honey?" she murmured, her voice smooth and perfectly enunciated. "You've been working so hard for us. You must be tired."

You looked up at her, your breath hitching. She was your safety, your calm, and you leaned into her touch instinctively. But before you could even whisper a response, a heavy hand clamped onto your shoulder, yanking you upright with enough force to make your teeth clatter.

"Don’t get all comfortable now, you pathetic little wanker," Billy growled, his hand tightening until you winced. "You ain't finished yet. We need a release, and you’re the only thing ‘ere worth usin’."

Becca didn't look bothered by his harshness..she just continued to stroke your cheek, her eyes locked onto yours with a gentle, terrifying adoration. "It’s alright, love," she whispered, her thumb tracing your bottom lip. "Just relax for us. You’re doing so well, and we’re going to take such good care of you."

You let out a shaky breath, your resolve melting under her touch. But the moment you relaxed, Billy’s hand moved to your hair, jerking your head back so you were forced to look at him, his face a mask of jagged frustration.

"Stop movin'," he snarled, his eyes dark and hungry. "And look at ‘er. She’s the only one you should be worried about pleasin', yeah? Don't you dare look at me when she’s talkin' to you. Keep yer eyes on her and shut yer mouth."

Becca’s smile widened, sharp and knowing. She leaned in closer, her voice a soothing balm against the sharp sting of Billy's abuse. "Just look at me, honey," she commanded softly, her hand sliding down to your neck. "You're doing so well. Billy’s just a bit irritable today, aren't you, darling? But you know your place, don't you? You know exactly who you belong to."

"S-sorry," you stammered, your voice barely a breath.

Billy let out a rough, barking laugh. "Sorry? Save the apologies for when you’re on yer knees, mate. You’re ‘ere to serve, not stare. Now get down there and show us exactly 'ow much you appreciate us bein' so patient."

You scrambled out of the chair, knees hitting the floorboards with a dull thud. You knew the drill. You crawled forward, positioning yourself in front of Billy, who stood tall, his chest heaving with that impatient and jagged energy. Becca stood right beside him, her hand resting affectionately on his shoulder, her presence a soft but terrifying anchor.

You reached up, hands trembling as you fumbled with the zipper of Billy’s trousers. The metal teeth hissed open, and you freed him, his cock heavy and hot. You took him into your mouth, the rhythm immediate and desperate.

Above you, Billy’s hand drifted to Becca’s waist, pulling her flush against him. He leaned in, his expression shifting from malice to something hauntingly tender. "Always 'ave to be the center of attention, don't ya, love?" he rasped, his voice dropping to a low, loving murmur as he crushed his lips against hers, his hands firm and possessive on her hips, pulling her close while his cock pulsed rhythmically against the back of your throat.

After a few moments, Billy pulled back just enough to look down at you. "Oi," he growled, the harshness returning to his voice. "Don't just sit there like a statue. Give the missus some attention, yeah? She’s gettin’ bored watchin' you."

You didn't hesitate, eyes fixed on the floor. You reached one hand up to steady yourself against Billy’s hip while your other hand slid toward Becca. She sighed, a soft, content sound, as she adjusted her trousers and pulled her panties aside, offering herself up to you. You slipped your fingers into her, the contrast between Billy’s heat and her slick, welcoming warmth forcing a moan from her lips.

"Look at ‘im, Bec," Billy cooed, his hand still holding Becca’s waist while he watched your hand work. "Think ‘e’s learnin' 'ow to please us properly, ain't ‘e? Good little pup."

Becca’s eyes flickered over to you with a cold, beautiful dominance. "I want to see you take him, Billy. Break him in," she whispered.

Billy grinned, a wicked jagged expression. "Best idea you've ‘ad all day, love."

He hauled you up by your hair and steered you toward the sofa, pushing you down until you were on your hands and knees. He didn't waste time; he stood behind you, unbuckling his belt fully and driving into you in one punishing thrust. "That's it, pup," Billy growled, his voice sounding like a mangled mess. He gripped your hips, thumbs digging into your skin to hold you steady as he slammed into you, his pace frantic and demanding.

Becca knelt beside the sofa, her hand wrapping around your cock. She began to stroke you, a rhythmic, expert motion. You were a wreck, sobbing into the cushions as the pressure built.

"P-please," you choked out, your voice a broken, desperate plea. "Daddy... Mommy... please... m-may I c-cum?"

Becca watched you, her eyes sharp with amusement. She squeezed you firmly, her gaze shifting to Billy before returning to you. "You've been such a good pup," she said, her voice smooth and articulate. "You have my permission."

"You ‘eard ‘er," Billy rasped, his voice thick and with a possessive roar l he bucked into you one final, devastating time, emptying himself deep into your ass.

At the same time, you let out a frantic sob as your own orgasm tore through you. You felt your cum hit Becca’s palm, and she didn't flinch, holding you steady until the last shudders left your body.

"Good pup," Billy murmured, his voice dropping back into that soft, terrifyingly gentle tone as he leaned over to kiss Becca’s temple. "Look at the mess you made for ‘er."

———-

👀

The weight of him

MDNI!!

-Warnings: Dominant trans man Billy Butcher, intense sexual acts, manual stimulation, possessive language, sexual control, male reader,, pet names (sweet boy), creampie/breeding theme, safe house setting.

-Summary: Butcher doesn't do "soft," and he sure as hell doesn't do polite. With the mission files locked away, he’s finished playing the leader. He wants to be used, and he’s backing you into a corner until you give him exactly what he needs.

—————

The mission had been a clean sweep, the Vought files locked away and the safe house quiet enough you could hear Frenchie and Kimiko bickering in the kitchen. But in the dim, cramped office, the rest of the world just… stopped.

Butcher was propped against the desk, eyeing you with that predatory stare that always made your pulse spike. He reached out, clamping a hand around your wrist with a heavy, possessive weight.

“Clean work out there," he rasped, his gravelly voice rattling your ribs. "Almost didn't think you had it in ya. But you did alright."

He didn't wait for a response, just hauled you flush against him. His hand dropped to your belt, fingers making quick work of the buckle until your trousers fell away. He wrapped a firm, steady hand around you, his rhythm demanding.

"Look at me," he grunted, eyes locking onto yours, dark and hungry. He leaned down, tongue flicking out to catch the bead of pre cum at your tip, the sensation sharp enough to make your knees buckle. "Yeah, that’s it. You're all worked up, aren't ya? Look at you, leakin' everywhere."

You didn't wait. You shoved his trousers and boxers to his ankles and shoved him forward, making him brace his weight against the desk. You moved between his thighs, your hands finding his t-dick which was already swollen and hard, standing out against the coarse hair on his inner thighs. You closed your hand around him, rubbing and jerking him with a firm, steady pressure listening to the guttural, pleased sounds that rumbled deep in his chest.

"Fuck, that feels good," he hissed, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wood. "Keep goin'. Right there. Don't you dare stop."

You moved behind him, gripping his hips and digging your thumbs into the muscle, then pushed into him, slow and deliberate. He clamped around you instantly, a sharp, ragged breath leaving his chest. You leaned forward, swinging your hand back to deliver a stinging slap to his ass that made him grunt.

"Fuck," he groaned, head falling back, his neck straining. "Yeah, like that… just like that. God, that’s it..full and deep. It feels like you’re rippin' me open, sweet boy."

"You want more?" you rasped, your rhythm turning punishing and deep.

"Don't talk, just fuck me," he snarled, voice raw and strained. "Take it. Make me feel everythin'. Harder. Use me."

You drove into him, every movement heavy with intent, the friction of your skin against his raw and desperate. You gripped his hips, fingers digging into his flesh, dragging him into the rhythm. You could feel him shifting, his breathing turning into sharp, desperate hitches. He was falling apart, and you were the only thing holding him together.

You pushed him harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the small room. He was gasping, his body shaking with every thrust, his grip on the desk frantic.

"I’m close," he gasped, body trembling under your force. "Cum inside me. Just fuckin' fill me up, sweet boy."

You didn't hold back, driving home one last time as you climaxed deep inside him. Butcher let out a long, shuddering groan, his fingers white knuckled as they dug into the edge of the desk, his body locking up as he rode out the waves of pleasure. As you pulled back slightly, the excess slickness from your release began to spill over, hot and heavy, slowly dripping from his thighs onto the floorboards below.

————

Like, I feel like there's poetry here, but given other things in the show I have to assume it's accidental. Because if that was intentional, what did it even mean? That Hughie was better than Lenny? That he'd successfully done his 'coming of age' journey and grown up enough to kill a friend? Was the real tragedy just that Lenny never lived long enough to get violent? Or he didn't get violent enough to survive, like Billy did?

Lenny died because Butcher failed to protect him, Becca died not knowing whether to trust him or not (despite choosing to do so in the end), and Kessler died trying to get him to see reason and not get everyone killed.

Butcher then successfully protected Hughie, who trusted him the whole way through, and who got him to see reason and not cause the genocide his tumor convinced him of causing.