Something spicy with Billy Butcher and a kitchen counter with reader?
Billy x you x the kitchen counter!
After a mission gone wrong, Butcher takes it upon himself to take care of you, but almost losing you has him seeing through a different lens.
18+ for sex, female reader, no warnings
@konartiste I am so so sorry this ended up taking me so long! It was a ridiculous year. But I loved this idea and I loved writing it and I loved getting to create a little glasses!Billy 🔥 Thank you so so much for the ask and I really hope you enjoy! I can’t wait to get back to reading more of your writing ❤️
A large part of your career, regrettably, had been spent working for Vought. Of course you’d heard the water cooler gossip, but at first you just didn’t want to believe it. The few times you’d crossed paths with Stillwell, Queen Maeve, even Homelander, they’d always been polite. You’d thought you were making a difference.
But the Mayor’s plane going down, the second plane crash and then finding out what V really was had changed it all. The evidence was irrefutable. You would never forget figuring out the truth then spending the rest of the day vomiting in the bathroom.
And then Billy Butcher had found you. At first you’d thought it was coincidence but of course now you knew better. He was an asshole.
Still, you hadn’t hesitated to work with him (well not more than a second), and you didn’t regret it. How many years had you been a part of one of the vilest corporations in history? You had a lot to make up for.
And assholes had never scared you. It didn’t hurt he was so easy on the eyes and so fucking sexy you’d spent many pleasant hours fantasizing about him taking you every which way your imagination could conjure. And then somehow over time the two of you had grown…well almost close.
But this job was about righting your wrongs. Every evil you had been complicit to for far too long.
You tried your best to remind yourself of this, of what you owed, as a bullet tore through your flesh while you tried to duck behind a black Bentley Bentayga in a grimy underground garage in upper Manhattan.
Your brain shut off as you gasped for air, pain searing through your nervous system, so intense it made the world go hazy around you. Looking down you saw your jeans now soaked with blood and time seemed to switch into ultra-slow motion as you froze in shock.
Vaguely you heard M.M. shouting in the distance and the sound of tires squealing. Then you were lifting off the ground. Butcher. Butcher was carrying you.
You gritted your teeth, trying to force yourself to get it together. “No hospital,” you demanded grabbing a fistful of his dark blue Hawaiian shirt, but it only came out as a broken whisper.
Ignoring you, Butcher carried you into the back of the van and ripped your pant leg wide open without hesitation, tearing the material apart with his bare hands. He was frantic and in the back of your fuzzy mind you thought, with a bit of awe, that you’d never quite seen him like this before. Somehow you were able to focus on his face…the furrow in his brow, the tense frown, and was that real emotion in his eyes?
“Aye, just a scratch,” he breathed with relief. “Clean across the top of her thigh ‘ere…”
He must’ve been talking to M.M. but all you could see was him. A new burning surge of pain coursed through you and you closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the floor of the van. It certainly didn’t feel like just a scratch. It felt like half your leg had been sheared off. But you weren’t going to say that because, fuck, you hated doctors so much.
You forced your eyes open and M.M. came into your view and then you made a strained sound to get his attention. “No hospital,” you ground out between clenched teeth. “Please…”
M.M. glared at you as you felt him wrapping something tight around your thigh. Billy was still hovering over you and you could feel him grab your hand tightly in his, big and warm. Was he…worried? When had he started to care about you?
“I’ll try,” M.M. finally answered, his voice low.
You breathed a sigh of relief and then everything went black.
M.M was able to get you fixed up with a few stitches and miraculously kept you from losing too much blood. Billy had taken you home and popped you into bed with a pain pill and a glass of water near by. You slept for nearly 12 hours and you dreamt about him - tall, dark and dangerous - and you woke up the next day feeling far better than you were expecting. There was still a dull ache from your wound but nothing unbearable. You’d even managed to wrap it with some plastic and take a quick shower, thinking about Butcher, and that look on his face, the whole time.
After that you were planning on going back to bed but a knock on your door and then hearing someone come in had you freezing in place.
“Oi, oi. Afternoon, sunshine.”
Billy suddenly appeared in the doorway of your bedroom and you let out a quiet sigh of relief. Though the words ‘Billy’ and ‘bedroom’ in the same sentence made your stomach flutter in a funny way.
“What do you want?” It came out harsher than you intended but you left it. “And how did you get into my apartment?”
“Alright, don’t get yer knickers in a twist now. I’m just checkin’ up on ya.”
“I’m not wearing any,” you replied obstinately, crossing your arms and frowning, which earned a low chuckle from Billy. Yeah, you knew you were trying to hide how much he flustered you by being defensive but then you just kept thinking he had actually came to check on you.
Butcher tsked, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Well, get some on and throw a few things in a bag. Ya can’t stay ‘ere.”
Your body tensed, and a flare of pain shot up your leg. “What do you mean I can’t stay here? It’s my apartment.”
Billy’s eyes went serious as he watched you for a moment, and then you knew whatever it was, it was bad.
“Yer burned, love. They know who ya are. I’m sorry.”
“Shit…” you breathed, slumping to the bed and burying your face in your hands. Your leg gave another painful throb and you groaned. “But you aren't? Or M.M.?” you asked, looking up at him hopefully.
“No,” he shook his head. “We ain’t.”
“At least there’s that. Fuck.” You picked up your phone and started just aimlessly scrolling through your contacts. What the fuck were you going to do?
“C’mon,” Butcher finally interrupted you, his voice gruff. “Let’s get a leg on. It ain’t safe.”
You gave a heavy sigh. “Is it really that bad, though? I don’t have anywhere to go, Butcher.”
“Aye, you can come to mine.”
As soon as you got to Butcher’s he insisted that you rest. You had to admit that the rushed packing and the drive had worn you down and you just knew he could see it on your face.
But additionally, he insisted you rest in his bed. And all with that look on his face like you meant something to him. That seeing you hurt had shaken something loose in him.
You tried to argue that you liked the couch but you really didn’t have it in you to fight so of course he won easily. You changed into a soft, worn t-shirt and pajama shorts and within 10 minutes you were wrapped up in his blankets, burying your face into his pillow. And, damn, but it smelled like him. Not how you might’ve guessed, but something masculine and spicy and warm and wonderful and your heart, in utter betrayal, gave a little flutter. You were sound asleep within minutes.
It was very dark when you woke up again and you knew at once you were alone in the room. In his bed, you reminded yourself. You stretched for a moment before your stomach growled and you realized how hungry you were. There was no way Butcher had real food…you sighed to yourself. But you supposed you should check.
“Oi, if it ain’t sleeping beauty,” Butcher smirked as he stood from the couch where he’d been watching tv as you came out of his room.
You rolled your eyes. “You told me I had to rest.”
“Aye,” he grinned, “but I didn’t expect ya to obey so willingly.”
“Um,” you took a breath. “I’m hungry.”
His dark eyes glittered with something mischievous, although he answered seriously. “I got a few sandwiches. Ain’t much but it’ll ’ave to do for now.”
Your stomach gave an answering rumble and as he brushed past you on the way to the refrigerator, you caught his scent, the same one as on his pillows, and something inside you shook loose too.
He pulled the food out of the fridge, you picked a sandwich and ate happily, sitting on a stool at his counter while he got you a glass of water. The lighting in the room was soft and a little dim, just a few lamps on in the living room and all of it felt extremely intimate and domestic in some weird, warm, wanting way.
Billy placed the glass of ice water in front of you with a gentle clink, his gaze meeting yours.
In that moment, there was something in the air, a quiet tension that felt charged with unspoken emotions. He sat down across from you, watching you eat, and your brain fumbled around trying to think of something to say.
“Thanks,” you murmured. “For all this…for everything.”
Billy nodded his head. “Don’t mention it,” he replied, his voice gruff but sincere. After a moment he added, “You’d do the same for me.”
A little smile came to your lips. You would. You would in a heartbeat. When had this happened? When had he become so important to you?
Billy must have seen the shift in your expression, his eyes searching your face quizzically. “Alright?” he asked.
“Yes,” you shook away the thought. “The sandwich is good…” You didn’t think you were ready to face these new feelings.
Billy nodded but his gaze lingered on your face before he looked away. He was always so scarily good at reading people.
You took another bite, and silence fell once again, though it was a more comfortable silence now.
As soon as you finished your sandwich, you stood to go wash the plate, but Billy reached out and grabbed the plate from you.
“I got it,” he said bluntly, his gruff voice leaving no room for argument.
He put the dish in the sink and turned to you again, his gaze traveling over your frame, assessing you. “I need to check your stitches and those bandages. Hop up on the counter there,” he gestured where he wanted you. “I’ll be right back with me med kit,” he added in a teasing tone as he shot you a grin, his eyes gleaming with a hint of amusement. You both knew damn well who was in charge here.
“Don’t wander off too far,” he added, before disappearing into another room, leaving you to wait on the counter.
Of course you waited patiently on the counter, but you sighed to yourself. He was making it impossible to not completely fall head over heels for him right now.
Little did you know it was about to get worse.
After a minute, Butcher walked back into the kitchen with bandages, a small medical kit…and wearing a pair of reading glasses you’d never seen on him before. They were dark-rimmed, perfectly shaped, just a little thick, and devastating. He looked like some sexy, intellectually lethal university professor or a strikingly handsome, sharp, single dad picking up his kid from school. Your heart dropped out of your chest. “Oh fuck me.”
He smirked at your reaction. “Problem?” he asked nonchalantly, as if he had no idea how goddamn attractive he was.
“Uh. No. I didn’t know you had glasses.”
Billy chuckled at your flustered response. He moved forward, closing the distance between you as he set the med kit down on the counter, his gaze still fixed on you.
“Oi,” he replied. “Don’t look so shocked. I use ’em for readin’ an’ stuff. Ya fancy ‘em?” he asked, his tone slightly cocky.
“I mean…” you struggled, trying to keep yourself from spontaneously combusting. “I guess I like them if you’re going for that insanely sexy DILF vibe…”
Billy’s grin widened as his eyes locked onto your face. He knew damn well what you were thinking and it only fueled his cocky attitude.
“Just…” you waved your hand around in the air, “...finish playing doctor and I can go…rest again…or whatever…”
Billy chuckled again. He could see he was getting a rise out of you, and he was clearly enjoying every second of it.
“Alright, if you insist.” He picked up the med kit, opening it.
You crossed your arms, leaning back against the cupboard behind you while Billy started carefully unwrapping your current bandage. He had to slide his big, huge hand beneath your knee to lift your leg to do it.
The touch of his calloused hand on your skin sent shivers down your spine, the intimate proximity of his touch making your breath catch in your throat. He continued to unwrap the bandage, his eyes fixed on the task at hand, but you knew he couldn’t be completely oblivious to the effect he was having on you.
He leaned close after he set the bandage aside, leaning over your lap as he took a closer look at the stitches and the wound beneath it. You swore you could feel his breath on your skin.
Billy’s eyes were fixed on his work, his expression concentrated as he examined it closely. The intimacy of the moment was unnerving. But he was so composed you couldn’t tell if he felt it too or not.
You, on the other hand, were a mess of jumbled nerves.
As usual, you decided to try and dismiss it with humor. “What’s the prognosis, Doc? Am I gonna make it?”
Billy raised an eyebrow, his focus shifting from the wound to your face, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Well,” he started, his deep voice holding a hint of amusement, “accordin’ to me expert observations, yer gonna be just fine, smartass. No need for a funeral just yet.”
He started putting the new bandage on, and you tried to hold your breath. You couldn’t help wriggling a little where you sat on the counter as his deft fingers started taping down the gauze on your bare thigh. His fingertips inadvertently brushed over the sensitive skin on the inside of your leg, and a sweet shiver rippled through your body.
“Try to hold still,” he grumbled, before focusing on his work again.
You gave a huffy sigh. He was making it impossible. His hands were so fucking sexy. And those fucking glasses he had put on to carefully check your stitches were making you think things that were probably illegal in most states.
Billy just gave a quiet laugh at your huffing and continued working. “Yer a squirmy little thing, y’know that?” he teased as he finished up.
“Still fuckin’ hurts,” you mumbled, trying to hide your growing arousal.
Then he glanced up at you, with those stupid, sexy glasses on and the devilish Butcher smirk in full effect. You froze, caught in his stare. When he finally spoke, his voice was a gruff rumble. “Need me to kiss it better?”
You almost moaned out loud and before you could think better of it, you were nodding yes and he was obliging. He dipped his head and brushed his lips just over the bandage. The sound that escaped you in response was a helpless, breathy whimper that made your face flush.
He noticed. His smirk deepened and he continued on, kissing a slow path up your thigh, each brush of his mouth hotter than the last.
His teasing, feather-light kisses continued on, breathy sighs escaping your lips each time, your body responding to his every touch.
“Careful,” he murmured, looking up at you with a smug smile, then straightening, planting his hands on either side of you on the counter. “You keep makin’ those sounds, I’ll start thinkin’ you’re enjoyin’ this.”
“Umm,” you swallowed. You couldn’t think. Your mind was long past turning to mush.
Billy leaned in closer, effectively trapping you between his muscular arms. His presence was overwhelming as he towered over you, his body close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him.
His gaze searched your face as he smirked down at you, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of roguishness and desire. “No witty retort? No sassy comeback?”
Your breath caught. You didn’t know what to do with all this tension and emotion between you suddenly, so though you wanted him desperately, you pushed at his chest even if it had no effect on him at all. “Stop teasing, let me off…”
Billy’s smirk only grew wider as you feebly pushed at his chest, his amused gaze fixed on your flustered expression.
“Teasing?” he drawled, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. “Me? Never.” He took a step closer, his body pressing closer, making your attempt to push him off useless.
“Billy…” you breathed. He was so close. You searched his dark eyes. You needed to know he felt something too before you gave in to him, something real.
His expression softened as you spoke his name and when you met his gaze, searching for something deeper. His voice dropped to a gruff, intimate whisper. “Ya want the truth?”
“Yes,” you breathed, leaning closer unconsciously as if you were inextricably drawn to him.
His gaze softened even more, his voice a low rumble as he spoke, “The truth is, I’ve wanted ya for a damn long time…”
Your heart thudded so hard you swore he would be able to see it in your chest.
“When I thought I lost ya -”
You couldn’t stop yourself. You reached for him and pulled his mouth to yours.
Billy returned the kiss instantly. His strong hands slid around your hips, pulling you against him. His mouth moved fiercely against yours, the intensity of his need for you evident in the way he claimed your mouth.
It was as if a dam had broken. Months of suppressed desire, of holding back, was suddenly released in this one moment. Billy urged you closer, molding you body to his, his touch commanding.
His lips moved from your mouth down your jaw, finding the sensitive skin of your neck, nipping and kissing with a new hunger.
You instinctively parted your legs a little more for him to get closer and his hands slid to your thighs.
“If ya want me to stop, tell me now, love…”
You paused for one moment then shook your head. “No,” you whispered. “Don’t stop…”
Suddenly, Billy sank to his knees, tossing his glasses to the counter. He slid his hands down your thighs and pushed them further apart, then nipped the inside of your leg.
Biting your lip, you let your eyes flutter closed and tried to keep yourself from completely falling apart. Leaning back a little on one hand, you slid the other into his dark hair. The feel of his mouth against your skin sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you, and when he rumbled against your inner thigh, the vibrations only heightened the sensation.
He left a trail of hot, wet kisses along your leg, working his way upwards, closer and closer to where you needed him. His grip on your thighs was possessive, as if he was claiming you, and he left a path of little love bites that made you shift your hips impatiently.
His hazel eyes went dark at your reaction, and his fingers moved immediately to the waistband of your shorts. Eagerly, you moved, pressing up with your hands against the counter so he could tug them off.
He drew them down your legs slowly, letting his knuckles stroke along every inch. “No knickers again,” he tsked, the glint in his eyes hot.
As soon as your shorts were off and tossed aside, his attention was fully focused on your body. He ran his rough hands back up your legs, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps as they went.
“Ya ‘ave no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. There was a raw intensity that went straight to your core. Then he met your eyes. “Get rid o’ the shirt, love…”
You obeyed without hesitation, reaching for the hem and pulling it up and over your head, tossing it on the floor.
His gaze roamed over you slowly, head to toe, lingering on your breasts with an unabashed hunger; the intensity of it made you tremble. As he drew your knees apart again you knew he could see how slick you were already.
“Look at ya,” he murmured, voice thick with desire. “All eager for me. You’ve no idea what ya do to me, do ya, love?”
“Me…?” you squeaked, trying not to squirm impatiently on the cool counter.
Billy chuckled at your squeak, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Yeah, you, love.”
He slid his hands back up your thighs, his touch measured and teasing, and he tugged your hips to the very edge of the counter. All you could do was make a soft needy sound while you ached impatiently for his touch.
Billy knew damn well what you wanted but he kept drawing it out just a little bit longer. “That’s it, love,” he rumbled. “Moan for me.”
You moaned again immediately, your center throbbing. You could feel his breath fluttering over your core as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, so unashamedly it made you blush.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice a gravelly husk. Then he rewarded you with the brush of his fingertips dipping into your folds.
You gasped as he found your entrance with one deliberate move and then he teased you with a gentle push of his fingers. His touch was light but intentional, designed to drive you crazy. “So wet and ready for me,” he rumbled, his voice thick with barely restrained desire.
His ministrations were torturously slow, the feel of his teasing fingers causing your back to arch involuntarily while you clung to the edge of the counter. You could feel your desire growing stronger with each tantalizing caress.
“Alright, love?” he asked gruffly, his gaze fixed on your face, watching every reaction as he continued to tease you with his fingertips.
All you could manage was a nod and a whimper, and then finally, without warning, he replaced his fingers with his exquisite tongue.
He delved into your center, lapping, teasing, and exploring with an expertise that left you gasping. As sensation overwhelmed you, your head thudded back against the cabinet and you tangled your fingers in his dark hair again, moaning helplessly.
A deep, primal rumble came from Billy as you came undone under his mouth. “Tha’s it, love,” he murmured, low and rough.
When his tongue flicked over your sensitive bundle of nerves with a firm, deliberate stroke, the cry that escaped your lips made him groan.
"Please.." your fingers tightened in his hair as you whimpered with pleasure.
Billy paused for a moment, and you almost whined in protest but then two thick fingers sank into you and his tongue returned.
Very quickly he brought you the edge of sheer bliss, your body flooded with heat and pleasure and things you’d never felt before, not like this. You could feel the warmth of the blush that was spreading down your neck, to your chest.
As Billy brought you closer and closer to the precipice, your body trembled and fluttered with pleasure that was almost too much to bear.
"Yer so close, love," he muttered gruffly, nipping the inside of your thigh again. "I can feel it. Let go for me.”
His tongue returned to your center, flicking and circling and stroking and he pumped his fingers in rhythm and suddenly you were crashing down for him, sobbing in pleasure as your body tensed then released. Your thighs trembled as he continued, holding them apart, driving you through your climax with an intensity that left you breathless.
After a minute, you tugged on his hair, making him groan in return, but he took the cue and showed mercy, sitting back on his heels, to look up at you, where you were still shaking with aftershocks.
"Bloody gorgeous," he murmured gruffly as he stood, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. He reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face, then slid his arm around your waist, drawing you against his chest. He was warm and solid and you let him hold you as you caught your breath, his broad palm rubbing soothingly over your back.
"But we're not done yet, love. Not by a long shot."
"Oh,” you whimpered against his chest, your body giving a little shudder of renewed interest.
With a quick, effortless movement, Billy snagged you off the counter and into his arms, lifting you against his chest like you weighed nothing more than a doll. He was careful not to jostle your injury, but he was still him.
Your body tingled, but you were still shaking from the first orgasm he gave you, weak in his arms. “I don’t know if I can handle any more,” you murmured. You were only half joking.
But as he carried you toward his bedroom, his grin only grew wider. "Oh, love, you're not goin’ to be walkin’ straight tomorrow mornin’. I'll make bloody sure of that."
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