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Beard (Billy Butcher)
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Drabble about Billy’s Beard and Y/N wanting to see him without it.
Word Count: 661
“When’s the last time you shaved your beard?” Y/N asked him. He looked over at her and set down his drink. “Why? Am I not pretty enough for ya anymore?” He jokingly asked. Y/N let out a laugh. “You aren’t what I would call pretty.” She said. He scooted closer to her on the couch. “Then what would you call me?” She set down her drink and shrugged. She leaned back on the couch. “Hot, Sexy, Mysterious.” She listed and he chuckled. He leaned back too and pulled her into his lap.
“No but seriously, when's the last time?” She asked, looking up at him. He was playing with her hair. “I stopped shaving after I thought Becca died.” He told her. Her eyes softened and she felt bad for even asking. Becca was a hard topic to talk about. She was there for him when he found out that Becky was alive and had a child. They weren’t dating yet but she still was there for him. Even when they were dating and Becca was killed she still never made him feel like shit for being upset or crying.
Becca was his wife and probably still would be if it wasn’t for Homelander. She never liked to think of the what ifs and even Billy told her that he loved her now and that he always will. “You okay?” He asked her, pulling her out of her thoughts. She nodded and snuggled into his tummy. “Just curious as to what you look like without a beard.” She mumbled into his stomach. He chuckled and stopped playing with her hair. “Maybe someday, Love.” He told her.
That conversation had been long forgotten about. It had been a month since it happened and frankly she didn’t think about it anymore. Billy was nervous. He had bought a razor and stared at it for some time before he made his decision. He hadn’t done this in years, and had no reason to. But now he did and though his nerves were through the roof about it, he wanted to see Y/N’s reaction. So he turned it on and brought the razor to his face and started shaving. There was no going back now as he watched the hair fall from his face. 
Y/N was in the kitchen making The Boys and herself dinner. The others weren’t back yet from whatever they were doing but should be soon. She hadn’t seen Billy in about an hour. He was probably catching up on some sleep or research, she thought. The door opened and she didn’t bother looking up from the stove as she greeted him. “Hey babe.” She said. He was so nervous to see her reaction, he was hoping that if she was disgusted or didn’t like it she could hide it well. “Hey.” He said. The tone of his voice sounded like he was nervous so she looked over at him in concern. She gasped and dropped the spatula in her hand.
There he, Billy Butcher, stood in the kitchen without a beard. Her jaw dropped as she just stared at him. Shook being the only evident thing on her face. He just looked back at her, waiting for words. “Well, What do ya think?” He asked her, nervous about the silence. She turned off the stove and walked over to him. Her hands cupped his face and felt the smooth skin that she hadn’t touched before. She looked at him in awe. “Oh my gosh.” She whispered. “Do you like it?” He asked her. She nodded. “Yeah.” She said before kissing him. He kissed her back, happy that she liked it. While they were kissing, The Boys happened to walk through the door. “Would you two get a room?” MM asked. They pulled away from the kiss. “Fuck off ya Cunt.” Billy said and the others gasped. “You shaved your beard!” Frenchie exclaimed. Y/N nodded. “And he looks pretty damn good too.” 
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tojigasm · 2 days
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Round 3
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allsortsoffuckedup · 9 months
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I think the absolute worst crime committed by the original LOTR movie trilogy was only putting the scene where Eomer finds Eowyn after the Battle of Pelennor Fields in the extended editions. Karl Urban at his absolute fucking best
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estherwordnerd · 2 months
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The key to understanding Leonard McCoy is that he only ACTS like he hates everyone and everything. Underneath that sarcastic abrasive middle aged man is a fundamental love for living creatures, desire to help others so strong that he made a career of it and a respect for the simple joys, which occasionally show their face when he's turning on the southern charm for a woman or offering to sacrifice himself to save a patient. I mean, you'd probably be a bit grumpy too if your marriage ended and you were stuck in space (a place you hate) trying to stop your best friends getting themselves killed when you could be spending time with your daughter. He's not surly and outspoken because he doesn't care, he's surly and outspoken precisely because he cares so much and yes, that has got him hurt before and probably will again but dammit, he's not going to let that stop him being what he is - an old country doctor who will do anything he can to help people. I love his sardonic witty banter as much as anyone but I think the real reason we take him into our hearts is because despite his complaining he's arguably the most down-to-earth, no-nonsense character in TOS and deep down we all admire his simple selfless dedication to caring for others. Never change, Bones.
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iolausian-fields · 1 month
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𝗫𝗲𝗻𝗮: 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗼𝗿 𝗣𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀 s4e21 - The Ides of March
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sharpesjoy · 5 months
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THE BOYS | SEASON 4 OFFICIAL TEASER TRAILER
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Love this new Netflix genre of "Accidental Dad and his Adopted Problem Child join hands to overthrow the government which has been lying to everyone with centuries of propaganda"
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lady-arryn · 9 months
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Karl Urban as Eomer THE LORD OF THE RINGS: The Return of the King (2003) dir. Peter Jackson
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Eomer's helmet in 4k
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aenslem · 3 months
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Star Trek Beyond (2016)
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eriksdotter · 2 years
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The Real MVP
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chaotic-iguana · 6 months
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desperate | billy butcher x reader
a little something in spirit of kinktober and my delirium. lmk what you think. nsfw below the cut. mostly denial/teasing.
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“fuckin’ look at you, doll.” butcher flashes you a shit-eating grin before reaching up to pinch your nipples between his thumb and forefingers harshly, rumbling a chuckle at the whimper it draws from you. you’re all splayed out for him with your hands tied to headboard above, thighs wrenched open by his shoulders; skin hot and flushed under his touch. he’s told you to stay still twice already but you can’t, not when he’s been leaving featherlight brushes on your skin for hours and cruelly laughing at every sound that comes from your mouth, smiling at the way your hips buck in his hold- 
and then he’s leaning in just to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to your sternum, beard stinging against your sensitive skin, jaw working to nip and bite until your tears are falling and he’s pulling back with a mocking tut, eyes twinkling.
“all these pretty tears just f’me, love?” your frantic nod makes him raise a brow, hand coming down to swat the inside of your thigh - the impact shooting straight to your poor, neglected cunt. 
“use y’words, chatterbox.” 
his tone makes you want to curl in on yourself, because he knows you’re too far gone to form words right now, too far gone to think about anything beyond the fact that you need him and that you might actually die if he stops touching you. but you know butcher, and you know how mean he really is - he’ll keep you writhing on the bed for hours to fix your attitude if he doesn’t hear an answer now; uncaring of the fact that you’re barely grasping at thoughts and completely fucking gone. and like the devil, you  he starts rubbing circles into the juncture of your thighs while you struggle to answer him.
“y-yes, da-butcher. ‘m cr-crying for y-you.” he hums, and suddenly runs a knuckle through your folds, making you keen, tears sticking to your lashes. 
“yes, who?” bastard. he knows you can never bring yourself to say it - not even if it rests on the tip of your tongue every time - and despite yourself, you bite your tongue and shake your head, hiccuping. 
“oh we’re being shy now? fuck me, honey, where was this when i had my cock in your ass?” his hands rest just above where you need him now, thumbs stroking your abdomen in careful, downward brushes. your back arches into the touch, hips chasing him even when he pulls his hands away, and then you’re sobbing in earnest. 
another tut, dripping with condescension. “no more cryin’. tell me what you want, baby.” and you’re gasping another breath and gulping air, wrists straining against the rope before stammering out another response, too delirious with your need to register what you were saying. 
“need you to t-touch me, d-daddy, please.” he shuffles up, gripping your chin to turn it towards him before capturing your lips in his, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. his thumb presses gently on your buzzing clit, making you jolt with surprise. you blink at him, frowning. he’d never cave this quickly. 
until- he’s reaching down to plant a kiss to your forehead, smoothing over your hair before nuzzling against your cheek. 
“gotta give my pretty girl what she needs, don’t i? 
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masterlist
taglist: @bastardmandennis and @amanitacowboy (no one else would be into the boys i think) love u both @imherefordeanandbones
@cafekitsune’s divider.
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hopefulcanary · 8 months
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thermal
for @borbtrek , and their lovely Spones-y fic
take two, throwing myself completely and unashamedly at my inspiration this time
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Karl Urban had this on his Instagram a while ago, and the opportunity to get such a clear, close-up, still image of the Éomer battle costume almost makes up for the fact that we can’t see his face…
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jdmorganz · 5 months
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JEFFREY DEAN MORGAN & KARL URBAN The Boys Season 4 Trailer
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