for afghan girls, being silent is the same as consenting to all the injustice they face, to being married off to a man thrice their age. to all the suffering and oppression in afghanistan. you can help too. i dont like getting political but this is horrible. this isn't promotional, it just sucks that these poor women and girls are trapped in this torturous place.
donate here today:
The Malala Fund: https://malala.org/donate?sc=header
UN Women: https://donate.unwomen.org/en/help-women-in-afghanistan
Women For Women: https://www.womenforwomen.org/afghanistan-two-years-later#two
Afghan's Women Organisation: https://afghanwomen.org/donate/
of course, not everyone can donate right now. even if you can't, you can help. spread the word. talk, tell people, say something! reblog this post, post your own things, blaze it, whatever.
BECAUSE YOU HAVE FREEDOM OF SPEECH, SOMETHING AFGHAN WOMEN HAVE LOST!
rare aesthetic: he called you his date at the golden globes, you went to college with him, you shared a bank account, comforted him after his divorce, said he was one of the "great loves of my life", told him news about the role you got before you told your wife, had matching good luck necklaces as children, fought to keep him in your film and vice versa, shared an oscar with him, lived with him, he said that you basically changed his life and helped his career, literally admitted you found it painful when he dated another woman... which could mean nothing.
Summary: You're Billy's girlfriend, and you've missed him: especially now, when you both finally have a break from killing Supes.
Warnings: Smutty smut smut, this is pure filth, but fluff too, set in no particular timeline but they live alone not with the boys, mdni pls, billy being a sap, subtle dom! sub! dynamics but not much, doggy style, no condom creampie (wrap it before you tap it <3), terror mention!
Youâd come home to find him in the tiny kitchen, a dish towel thrown over his shoulder like a retired boxerâs trophy, scowling at a sizzling pan. The air smelled of burnt garlic and⊠was that thyme? The sight of him, this mountain of a man in a too-small apron with a cartoon pig on it, wrestling with a chicken breast, was so absurd it made you laugh.
âOi, whatâs so bloody funny?â he grumbled, not taking his eyes off the pan. âThis is a delicate operation.â
âItâs a chicken breast, Billy. Not a bomb.â
He finally looked at you, his blue eyes softening in that way they only did for you. âFor you, love, it might as well be. Wanted to do somethinâ nice. Youâve been workinâ too hard.â He gestured with the spatula, a blob of butter flinging onto the floor. Terror scurried over to lap it up.
Your heart melted. This was your Billy. The man who could tear a Supe apart with his bare hands (or, well, threatened to, at least), yet was terrified of ruining your dinner. You walked over, wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, and rested your cheek against his broad back. He smelled like gun oil and cheap whiskey.
âItâs perfect,â you murmured into his shirt.
He scoffed. âItâs a bloody mess is what it is.â
But he leaned back into your embrace for a moment, just a moment, a silent admission of how much he needed this. He turned off the stove, the chicken abandoned. He turned in your arms, cupping your face with his large, calloused hands. His thumbs traced your cheekbones.
âYouâre a right mess too, you know,â he whispered, his voice a low rumble. âAll covered in⊠well, you.â He dipped his head, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to your forehead. Then another to the tip of your nose, a gesture so gentle it made your knees weak.
âYâknow,â he murmured against your lips, âI was thinkinâ about you all day.â
âYeah?â you breathed, your hands sliding up his chest.
He nodded, his eyes dark with an emotion that was more than just hunger. âEvery time I looked at a bloody phone, all I could see was your face. Every time I heard a loud noise, I thought it was you laughinâ. Itâs distractinâ.â He punctuated the last word with a soft, lingering kiss.
âIs that your way of saying you missed me?â you teased, pulling back slightly.
âItâs my way of sayinâ youâve got me wrapped around your little finger and I donât give a damn,â he rumbled, his hands sliding down to your hips. He pulled you flush against him, and you squealed.
"Billy!"
"Sorry, love!"
Dinner was a burnt, glorious failure. You ended up eating takeaway on the floor of the living room, leaning against the sofa. Terror snored between you. Billy told you a story about a failed mission involving a pigeon and a laser-eyed Supe, his animated gestures making you snort with laughter. When you choked on a fry, he thumped your back, then used the same hand to gently brush a strand of hair from your face.
âYouâve got some ketchup,â you said, pointing to the corner of your mouth. âRight there.â
Before he could wipe it, you leaned in, tongue flicking out to catch it. The gesture was innocent, but the look in your eyes was anything but. The switch was instant.
âMm,â you hummed, his voice dropping an octave. âDe-licious.â
"You're a menace, you know that?"
You tilted your head back, meeting his gaze.
"And you love it, Billy."
"Love it? I'm bloody miserable." he scoffed, although his eyes told a different story.
"Liar."
Butcher grunted, setting the glass on the coffee table with a sharp clink. He slid his hands upward, bunching the fabric of their clothes. "Right then. Let's see if you can actually handle it today."
He surged forward, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was anything but soft. It was hungry, demanding, tasting of salt and chips and the faint, smoky burn of whiskey. His hands, which had been so gentle, were now possessive, one tangling in your hair to tilt your head back, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise.
This was the other Billy. The one who operated on instinct, who took what he wanted. And right now, he wanted you.
âGet up,â he growled against your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point. âNow.â
"I-"
"Less talking, more doing." He didn't need a second invitation. Butcher flipped you over, pinning your wrists against the cushions. The smell of old tobacco and expensive musk clung to him. He tore at your clothes, exposing Y/S/C skin to the cool air before his mouth crashed against yours. It wasn't a gentle kiss; it was a claim. Your tongues clashed, swapping thick strings of saliva that smeared across their lips.
"Still think I'm a liar?" he growled against your skin.
"Prove it."
Butcher stripped his trousers, his thick, heavy cock springing free, already glistening with a bead of pre-cum. He guided himself to your entrance, the head of his member rubbing against your drenched folds. You arched your back, a sharp moan escaping as he pressed forward. The first thrust was deep, and you could've sworn you felt it inside your cervix. A wet, squelching sound echoed through the quiet room as he sank fully inside. "Bloody hell, you're tight."
"Oh, BUTCH, don't stop!" You moaned out.
He began to move, his hips slamming into them with a rhythmic, punishing force. Every thrust produced a loud, shlicking noise, the sound of friction and excess lubrication. His balls slapped hard against your ass, a wet thud that punctuated each drive. You gripped the sofa cushions, fingers digging into the fabric as he hit your cervix. The sensation was an electric shock, sending waves of heat crashing through your lower belly. Butcher's breathing turned into ragged heaves, his chest heaving against your back.
"Look at you, taking it all," he whispered, his voice a gravelly rasp. He reached around, his thumb finding your clit and grinding into it with precise, agonizing pressure. You screamed into the pillow, your walls pulsing and clamping tight around him. The friction intensified, the internal heat building to a breaking point.
"I'm close, love. Right there." Butcher accelerated, his thrusts becoming shorter and more frantic. The sound of your bodies colliding became a messy, wet cacophony. With one final, deep surge, he groaned, his body stiffening as he pumped a hot, thick load of cum deep inside you. Y/N shuddered, your own orgasm ripping through you in violent, rhythmic contractions.
For a long time, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing and the frantic beat of your hearts. He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his body a warm, heavy blanket. He pressed a kiss to your damp hair.
âYou alright, love?â he murmured, his voice back to being soft. His hand stroked your back in soothing, circular motions.
You nodded against his chest, feeling safe and utterly wrecked. âMmhm.â
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. âGood. Because Iâm gonna need about ten minutes, and then weâre goinâ for round two.â He tightened his grip on you. âBut first, you just stay right here. You were perfect. My perfect girl.â
His hand continued its gentle caress, his breathing slowly evening out. In the quiet of the room, with the scent of sex and Billy all around you, you drifted in a hazy bliss.
You lay there for a long time, chests heaving in unison, the air smelling of sex and sweat. "Still miserable?" You whispered.
Butcher kissed the back of their neck, his voice soft for once. "Utterly diabolical."
omg guys i reached 50 followers thank you so much! this is so sweet and amazing to find out on a random monday when your day isn't going great.
i want to give a very, very special thank you to some amazing people ive met here:
@kagekurai118
@missdwinchester
@sofreddie
@evaapriless
@froggies74
@dr-ato-callidus
@randomaccount95
to celebrate this with me, stay tuned for the Celebration Week fic line up!
24/7/26- Billy Butcher x Y/N, One Shot, Smut + Fluff
25/7/26- BBC Sherlock Holmes x Y/N, One Shot, Part 2 to this fic, Fluffy Fluff+ Angsty Ending
26/7/26- Supernatural S16 E03, fic masterlist here
27/7/26- Percy Jackson x Y/N (18+ characters) , Smut, Fluff
28/7/26- Four Fics of Project Hail Mary (no Y/N, og fics), for a fic request i have received but not responded to yet srry
29/7/26- Tommy Shelby x Wife!Y/N, Angst-ish, Smut
+30/7/26 BONUS (aka your choice):
message me on my inbox for either a specific character, a specific trope, or a specific scenario (will write everything except incest and r@pe). ALL requests will be responded to (and i mean all )
submissions for the above close on 28th July so that i have some timee to respond to requests
also guys i wanted to update all of you. i know i haven't responded to a few of your requests, so expect those to be coming as well in the upcoming days.
once again i love you all so much and thanks a ton! your support inspires me to keep writing and keep being this way.
