#butcher drabble

[imaginesupernaturalig]

Thought I might add some little drabbles I get from time to time. Hope you enjoy. :)

Putting your key in the lock you turn it, and your nose is rushed with a familiar scent. Your ears pick up a not-too-distant sound of water trickling down. You put your keys on the nearest table as you take careful steps. With the door firmly closed behind you locking it again was easy. Then you turn your attention to the sound of water.

More careful steps lead you to the door that is cracked. The warm steamy water begins to circle you as you force the door open slowly. A black long coat is on the floor with a patch on the back shoulder. More clothes including a ragged Hawaiian shirt you wish you could burn is casually tossed aside. As you reach up to the edge of the curtain that's when you hear the faintest of sob. It catches in your throat, and it changes your plan of attack.

Instead, you pull the curtain back to reveal the glorious back of your guy. He’s holding something back the way he is fighting tears. You step in, fully clothed and gently wrap your arms around him. He puts his arms over yours and finally lets it out. You glance down to see the last of the blood swirling the drain and clench your jaw.

He holds you close while you put your cheek to his shoulder. Water rushes over the both of you but that doesn’t bother you, you are bothered why Butcher is weeping in the shower. Then he sniffles, “Y/N, I’ve don a bad thing...”

[yeyinde]

thinking about Simon who just gets out of prison for murder after he's been locked up since he was 18, and starts working at a slaughterhouse for his parole. a big, scary dog who has bloodstains all over him, permanently crusted in the crease of his nails because he prefers field dressing over dragging the carcass inside the shop. who always smells of iron and sweat, and looms over you like he was trying to keep everyone else from looking at you. possessive, but you only know him from rumours and blog posts. his stare, the intense, hungry way he looks at you always gives you the creeps.

he's bad news. and he tries to woo you by feeding you meat from the animals he butchered (getting angry whenever you buy cuts from someone else), and won't go away even when you tell him to leave you alone. you've heard the rumours. read the news articles. nothing about this man is any good—

but he won't, of course. the thing about prison is that you need to hold onto the things that you have and take the stuff that you don't. a sort of cutthroat survival that has raised him better than his own mother. so, when he finds you (something he doesn't have, but wants), it's just in his nature to take.

[cupidkenji]

thinking so hard rn about Butcher who won’t let you cum until you call him daddy LISTEN 👂

the name is a familiar one when it comes to him, no problems listening to it leave his mouth and stir a feeling in you that’s so infuriatingly his. You used to make fun of guys like that, tell your friends the thought of it made your skin crawl. But the casual dominance of the name, the way he owned it so effortlessly, it made you so fucking wet and he knew it.

“C’mon, love” you’re sure it had to have been an hour by now, his strokes had gotten slow, barely having to move before he felt you about to cum, halting at the tightening of you. “You know you want to”

“Butcher-” your words were breathy as he worked you up again and stopped, your own inhale cutting off anything you were gonna say. You felt stupid pleading with him, he’d never been a man keen to relenting “..please”

the faintest hint of that stupid fucking smirk had been permanently lodged on his lips since this whole ordeal had started. “Just need to ‘ear one word from that pretty mouth-” he sped his fingers up “and i’ll make you cum as many times as your heart desires”

swallowing your pride was proving to be a tremendous task, causing nothing but failed attempts to get stuck in your throat, forcing out little whimpers that did nothing but make him raise his eyebrows, rhetorically questioning whether he’d warn you down enough. “It’s a pretty fucking clear cut choice you got here” he spoke low, his voice slightly hoarse from how long he’d dragged this out. “You know full well I’ll leave you like this”

his eyes felt unbelievably heavy on you, only adding to the tension in your stomach. He smiled, small and diluted, just barely an upturn of his lips. “Just say it for me” he pouts lightly at you, mocking the expression on your own face as he looks at you. “Do as I say, yeah? Who knows what’s best for you?”

you arched your back as he sped up again, your lack of response prompting an unsatisfied Butcher to use another denied orgasm as retaliation. “Hm?”

the word felt like acid melting through your teeth, the response forcing it’s way out of your mouth to be only barely audible to your ears. A smug, gratified look found home on his face. “Well, ain’t that sweet” Of course he’d heard it, clear as day. “Wasn’t so hard then, was it?”

as he sped up again, this time dedicated to his pace, you just prayed he didn’t make this a habit

shoutout to all the daddy kink butcher fic writers out there yall have made me horrifically question everything i once thought i knew about myself

[bunnys-kisses]

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა a butcher au - max verstappen ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

max could've been a lot of things. but he was very good at cutting meat. those curious blue eyes didn't flinch at the sight of guts and blood. he simply worked and he in turn lived a happy life. in a way it got certain frustrations out, that he was never a good driver. when he craved up meat for sale at the small shop he worked at, in the apron and heavy gloves, he liked that no one recognized him. the weight of expectations didn't fall to heavily, instead he got thanks yous and no one praying for his downfall. he did have favorite customers though. the old nonnas who came in who were very particular, but always left heavy handfuls of change in the glass tip jar. the love sick man trying to win of a new woman of the week with his attempt at fine dining. and you.

you had lived out in the small town near the italian and french border for a few months now. an aunt of yours had died almost a year ago and you get saddled with the small property she owned. you took it as a chance to go somewhere else, having lived in the bustling city in another part of the world. so, the small town life was nice. and every week you'd come in and see max. he was always happy to see you. he'd often say to you, "i think i have something better in the back." before he flashed you a smile and headed to find a better cut.

he liked you, there a fondness he carried for you. you were just very polite and sweet. your grasp on both italian and french was a little rusty, but max was helpful as he wrapped up your order and told you to have a nice day. over the months you became comfortably familiar.

while max was comfortable at a distance, he was surprised when he heard your voice from the front. he looked down at himself, elbow deep in an animal all morning... staining the front of the apron and the gloves he wore. there was even specs who knew what on his upper forearms. "shit." he sighed to himself. he knew that his job required getting a little dirty, but he didn't want the beautiful woman who came in every week to see him look like a serial killer. he quickly took off the apron and gloves (even attempting to pick the dried blood off his arms) before he went to see you. you were at the front with other groceries in hand. you were just in yesterday. he looked at you with a little confusion. and you simply smiled. you placed two sunflowers wrapped in last weeks newspaper on the counter near the cash register.

you couldn't look him in the eyes when you asked him, "i couldn't wait for you to make the first mood, max. but... would you like to have dinner with me?"

max picked up the flowers, they looked beautiful even in the somewhat bad lighting of the butcher shop. he looked to you, your smile had dropped and you looked nervous. while max was wrapped up in receiving flowers and your request, he realized he hadn't said anything. he put the flowers down and took you by the hands across the counter and said, "yes! of course!"

you ended up having dinner with max at your home a few nights later. you two had been texting over the course of those days. and while he found himself comfortable messaging you. being in your home felt nerve wracking, he hadn't been on a date since he left his home town after he turned eighteen. but, you looked beautiful in the kitchen. making sure that everything was perfect for dinner. occasionally his eyes would scan over your form as you worked in the kitchen. you seemed to natural there. the way you prepared the sausages in the pan (the ones he sold you days prior) made max feel more at ease. there was a joke there about you knowing how to prepare meats. while most of the time he simply ate vegetables when he got home, after being around cut up animals for hours on end made him want to eat a stalk of celery by the time he got home. but to see someone so beautiful work a kitchen marvelously and the end result being something so beautiful.

"i made these rolls earlier today." you said as you brought the bowl with some on there, "i'm not the best baker ever. i'm pretty sure i can't compete with the place a few doors down from you." you laughed as you turned back to around to grab the pot of stew that you finished.

max eyed you behind as you walked away and was already in love.

you returned with dinner in hand, oven mitts protecting your hands from the hot surface of the pot. it smelled good. it smelt like home. and it made max feel warm all over as if his body wasn't heated from the warm summer night. you smiled when you sat across from him then clinked your wine glass with his, "to the first date in a long time." and max took a sip, he got lost in your eyes for a moment. and there was little room for dessert when you pulled max into the bedroom. the bed frame creaked as he was almost pushed onto it. you stood in front of him and he wrapped his strong arms around you then kissed at your clothed middle.

the clothes came off and he saw you eye his chest for a moment. he almost wanted to recoil a little from the attention. he wasn't built like a statue. he was strong for years of lifting things around the shop and walking to and from home every morning. but before he could say anything or move, you ran your hands down his chest. feeling his soft skin under your palms then said, "holy shit, this is what's been hiding under those aprons you wear." he looked away for a moment felt heat in his cheeks before you pulled him by his chin into a heated kiss.

you got max onto your back and straddled his waist. you watched him swallow before you kissed him along the neck and collarbones. your rubbed yourself up against his abdomen and shuddered from the stimulation of your clit. max clutched onto the covers under him and you went in for another searing kiss. it was perfect, you were perfect. your movements were slow, feeling him up against you. it was teasing for both of you until you got yourself seated on his cock. which made him tense up and feel a flare of his across his body. your hands on his strong shoulders for leverage as you moved up and down. max shuddered and his swallowed hard, "shit. please." he said as you moved against him. you replied, "you feel so good. i'm surprised no one else has tried to pick you up in town." you giggled, the heat in your cheeks was heavy. he simply held onto your hips and started to work alongside you, letting the pleasure bubble up, "i get nonnas and their granddaughters visiting from overseas. usually they are too scared to talk to me. or i'm too scared to talk to them. they see the blood or the animal in the back and get scared." maybe it wasn't polite to talk about work while he was fucking you, but you didn't seem to complain. he found that you didn't flinch at how the sausages were made in the shop. he clutched further onto your soft hips. his hands were used daily for taking apart the meats that arrived. he was usually in the back carving like he was making a masterpiece. the anatomy of the beast burned into his head. but while he held you, his touch was full of tenderness.

he wasn't trying to carve himself into your skin, he wanted to make you feel good. he wanted to be good in your world, and as sweet moans left your lips he knew that he was doing just that. he looked up at you with those blue eyes, the pupils a little wider from the heat in his body. the euphoria that was a drum in his chest as he continued to meet your pace. he then added, "plus, now i have no reason to talk to them. not when i have you." you blushed a little bit, looking away for a moment as he did earlier before you leaned in and kissed him on the lips. your hands splayed across his chest as you worked along his cock. up and down as a fire burned in your belly.

you two kissed once more as you pace started to stagger. you felt the heat become fuel in your blood as you worked his cock. he felt like a dream, an utter euphoria that you couldn't put into words. you had been with others before. but in the low light of the home you now owned with a man you met by chance while living in this small town. there was a certain niceness to it. a comfort you longed for while stuck on packed buses or falling asleep during meetings on a year prior. in the warm heat of the summer, you felt good as you moved against him. so long tinder, so long bumble, you met the man of your dreams while he was covered in blood, whose hands worked diligently every day to deliver the finest cuts of meat. not only to you but to large portions of the town. maybe it was love right off the bat, regardless you felt a warmth in your chest for him.

you kissed once more as you both loss the rhythm, soon you finished with a moan against his lips and he followed soon after. he clutched onto your hips tightly as you continued to thrust on top of him. eventually the pleasure flooded your brain and you slowed down to a stop. the kiss was broken and you both panted heavily. max cupped your face for a moment ans said something you couldn't quite pick up, but you responded with, "right back at ya." between heavy pants. and max knew it was love.

you soon laid in bed with the butcher, curled up against him. both feeling the after shivers of climax. you felt comfortable in the crook of his shoulder and your face up against his softer chest. you could tell he was strong, but wasn't opposed to homemade cooking.

he lazily took your hand in his other one and kissed across the knuckle. he sighed against your fingers, rubbing them up against his cheek soon after, "if this is a ploy to get a discount

you looked at him and chuckled, "damn, my plan is ruined."

he chuckled, "i'll need a few more homemade meals before i can do that. don't want the little nonnas to think they can seduce me into better prices." then kissed your hands once more.

you sighed and pressed further into him, feeling a sense of comfort in his arms, "next time i'll bring more than flowers."

he simply laughed, but in the back of his mind he thought, don't bring me a ring. that's my job. and maybe it was a little bit too soon to jump to that next step. but, as he held you in his arms it felt like a perfect piece. he wouldn't mind giving you discounts, of course if you were married then it would be free. but as he kissed the top of your head and heard your breathing level out and eventually fall asleep, it felt nice. it felt like home.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Little Kreature (The Boys Drabble)

Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader (only indicator for gender is the phrase 'atta girl') / requests are open

Summary: The mission goes well and Butcher's found a surprise for you.

Fic type: fluff (gore mentions).

The Boys: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Oi, love," you hear Butcher call from the other end of the hall. "Come take a look at this, eh?"

You roll your eyes but do as you're told, wandering down the hallway, streaking your fingers along the walls and trailing them through the blood that was splattered up and down and all the way across the eggshell-white walls. Well, they were eggshell. Hmm. You think you like red better.

You reach Butcher, giving him the side-eye when he gives your ass a slap and an accompanying "atta girl."

"What, Butcher?"

He nods his head towards the opened door, and what you see when you look inside has your jaw dropping open in shock.

"Don't you say I do 'nuffin for y'ah," he groused, checking down the hallway to make sure no more guards were coming up the stairs.

It's almost startling, seeing the spotless room when you've just waded through the guts of about twelve people splattered across every surface you could lay your eyes on. Yeah, you were the one who gutted them all, but still. What could you say? It was a gift.

But right there, sitting on the edge of the bed, was a puppy. A little speck of a thing, all soft-eared and floppy-skinned. He was precious, and the way Butcher was looking at you- you knew he'd already decided you could keep the thing.

"Oh, aren't you a precious little baby," you cooed, wiping the blood off your hands and onto your jeans before you reached out for the puppy to sniff your hand. His little head flopped to the side and you just about melted right then and there.

"Oh, Billy, look at him," you pouted, turning around and showing your boyfriend-cross-boss-cross-situationship the baby in your arms.

"Yeah, yeah, cute little cunt, ain't 'e?"

When you stood there content to coo at the thing for another however long, Butcher grunted, fingers shifting around the trigger on his handgun. He wanted to leave now that you'd taken out the Vought exec and her guards. Clearly, she was a fan of dogs. It almost made you feel a little guilty. Almost.

"Right love," Butcher said, deciding you'd both dicked around long enough. "Let's get this show on the road, eh? We don't want to be here when they send more supes to figure out what's happened. Grab y'er pup and let's boogie."

"Sir yes, sir," you replied with a flirtatious wink before making your way back through the blood-soaked home and out the door where MM and the others were waiting for you, guards and mission all but forgotten.

Now you only needed to pick a name for your little friend.

"How about Kreature?" You asked the pup as Frenchie opened the van door and ushered you inside, Butcher hot on your heels.

"Whatever you want, love," came Butcher's voice, assuming you'd been speaking to him.

Kreature it was, then.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

➤bound hαnds || Billy Butcher ||

Warnings: bondage, p in v, tentacle sex

A/n: idk this fuckin sucks but I wanted to post it.

Before Billy had gotten sick due to the Temp V he had hidden you away. He didn't care that you might have been a sup but that didn't mean the piece of shit known as Homelander wouldn't kill you.

But now he was back, now he was better and now he wanted you.

He needed you...god did he need you.

Butcher could practically feel Kessler's eyes boring into his neck as he drove to the safe house. He knew what he was thinking.

'Make her yours...let them know who she belongs too.'

Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, a slow smile forming on his lips.

Oh he will make you yours, and they will see.

You really don't remember how you ended up naked on the bed being held down by something.

"Butcher!"

"Don't you look good love, squirmin for me." Billy's breath against your neck as he held your thighs apart. "So fuckin good."

A whimper escaped your lips feeling something brush your entrance. His tentacle brushing your core as his knee nudging your thighs. "Such a needy little thing you are." His lips nuzzling your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point.

"Once I'm done with ya, you ain't gonna forget who you belong to love."

Letting out a cry, you bucked your hips as the tentacle continued to pump in and out of you. His tongue grazing yours. It was a strange feeling, different than what you were used to. The thickness of it stretching you out, rubbing your clit.

He could feel you getting closer to the edge, could feel how your walls clenched around his tentacle but he wanted to feel you come undone around his cock,not this.

"Hold on love, I ain't finish with ya yet." Biting your neck, a shudder ran down your spine as he pulled out the tentacle and with one swift thrust, he sheathed himself to the hilt in your welcoming heat, swallowing your cry of pleasure with a hungry kiss.

•

Billy growled low at your pleading, desire and possessiveness warring within him for dominance.He has never felt such primal hunger or ownership over another being until now the bloodlust for you came as naturally to him as breathing. He set a punishing pace from the start, relishing the feel of your tight walls wrapped hot and snug around him.

"Fuck, ya feel so good," he groaned against your lips. One hand roughly groped your breast while the other pinned your wrists above your head. His tentacle wrapping around your ankles to keep you in place.

Darkened eyes drank in your wanton expression of ecstasy, stoking the flames of his possession. "Look atcha, takin' me so well like the little slut ya are. Ya were made for this, made for me." He nipped along your jawline before biting down hard enough to bruise, reasserting his claim. "Mine. You're all fuckin' mine."

A scream tore from your lips as you broke the kiss, your eyes closing tightly.

Billy snarled in response to your cries, pounding ruthlessly into your willing body with animalistic ferocity. Every thrust rubbed deliciously against that sweet spot deep inside, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

"Fuck, that's it. Scream fer me, it's a shame that the people can't hear ya. Maybe i'll fuck ya in front id everyone, let em know who's makin' ya feel this good," he growled, as he ravaged your lips in a punishing kiss. One hand snaked down to rub tight, impatient circles around your clit, urging you on.

"Come on, come for me. Wanna feel ya clamp down on my cock," Billy grunted through gritted teeth, losing himself in the delirium of passion. The familiar tightening in his gut signaled his impending release, spurred on by your lewd encouragement.

"Billy...Billy please." You sobbed doing your best to move with his thrusts. "You feel so good, I need you to fill me."

You were breathless now, your breasts bouncing with each of his thrusts as his hands clutched your thighs tightly.

With a feral roar, Billy slammed one last time balls deep as his knot swelled, flooding your core with his hot seed. The added thickness and thickness pushed you right over the edge into your climax, pulsing vice-like around him.

You could feel him continue to pulse and throb inside you, possessive to the last. He didn't move to withdraw, merely ground his hips and growled low in satisfaction. "Ya like that, huh? Feelin' me claim every inch of ya?"

His accent was thick as he held you close to his chest, his tongue gliding across your own. He could feel little tremors leaving your body.

"You're so fucking good Billy."

"Anythin for you love."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Diabolical 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, extreme profanity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Billy Butcher

Summary: your neighbours has some strange friends.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Ah, cunt!” 

The man’s voice rolls under your door. His accent adds a certain slant to his words that makes them sound even harsher. You hover your mug in front of your lips, steam curling from the freshly brewed tea, as your eyes drift over in detest. 

You lower it and carry it with you to the door. You lean in to see through the peep hole. The same dark hair, the same long black jacket with the patch on one shoulder, and the same lumbering form. He thumps again on the door across the hall. 

“Hughie, open up, ya skinny cunt.” 

He uses that word again. Your lip curls and you huff. He keeps on. 

You slide back the chain and your adrenaline pumps into your chest. You flip the lock back slowly and pull the door in an inch. You peer through the space as the man checks his watch and grumbles. 

“Where are ya, Hughie?” He grumbles and shakes his head. “Big fucking stick bug, won’t answer ya phone, won’t come to the door...” 

“It’s not very nice language, is it?” You chide. You’re just as surprised as the man as he stands straight and freezes. He turns to you stiffly as you let the door open a little more. 

“Eh? And who are you, then?” He tilts his head this way and that as he growls. 

“I live here. Who are you?” You say defiantly. You sip your tea to keep your nerves under wrap. 

“Wouldn’t you like know, sweetheart?” He snickers. “Oi, you ain’t happened see the skinny one lives over here?” He jabs his thumb behind him. 

You stare at him. You shake your head again. His eyes narrow and flick up and down. 

“Too good for the likes of us, eh? You and your fancy porcelain? What’s that? Royal Daulton Cuntware?” 

You gasp and bat your lashes. “Excuse me, I haven’t been rude. I’ve only asked you to keep it down. Other people live here besides your friend and they don’t appreciate hearing your profanity every morning.” 

“Eh,” he gives a crooked smirk, “you listenin’ for me, sweetheart?” 

“I don’t know you, sir, and I shouldn’t like to.” 

“Ain’t ya so proper? Sirs and shouldn’ts and tea.” He taunts. 

You take a breath and back up, “I would only appreciate a little consideration, but thanks. Have a lovely day.” 

“Oi, go on and hide then, darling.” He tugs on his lapels and squares his shoulders. He chuckles again. 

You stop the door before you can shut it all the way. You bristle at his laughter. “I don’t think you’re funny.” 

He chortles again. He steps closer and you go rigid. You can’t measure up to a man like him. You still the tremour in your hand before your tea can slosh towards the brim. 

“Well, I think you’re right hilarious. Why don’t you go on? Tell me, eh, are you more offended by the shit on my boots or the onion on my breath?” 

You steel yourself as you grip the door tightly. “Don’t come any closer.” 

“Ah, I don’t got that sorta time. Whatcha think a brute like me would do then?” He stops and plants his feet wide. 

“You needn’t be so impolite--” 

“Needn’t--” he mimics. Before you can stop yourself, the tea splashes across his face and chest.  

You recoil as the porcelain drips in your hand and you gape at his stunned grimace. His blue eyes flash and you kick the door shut as you retreat. You put the chain in place and twist the lock. You press your back to the door and listen, heart pounding, and wait. 

His treads scuff on the floor and he sighs. The floor groans as he moves and you watch his shadow beneath your door. Yet, no banging comes at the door. 

“Ah, bollocks, that’ll stain.” His grumble follows him down the hall. 

You have no idea what you were thinking. A man like that is dangerous. You don’t need his name or anything else. You can tell just by looking at him.  

You’re not the sort to associate with the type. You didn’t think your neighbour was either. Then again, you only know Hughie because he dropped a sock in front of your door. He didn’t stay to chat as he snatched it and chased that pretty blonde inside. 

You turn and stand on your toes to see through the peephole. He’s gone but you don’t dare go out and make sure. You’ll do best not to show your face again. Just drink your tea and hide, like you always do. 

[forbrewer]

thinking about the scene in 3x5 of the boys when butcher and maeve hook up and like,, GOD i wish that was me.

i just know he’s the type to groan directly into your mouth all. the. time. he is sososo vocal but that man never ever wants to stop kissing even if it’s gonna kill him. he would barely step back enough to get your shirt over your head IF he can even wait that long. i don’t think he’s necessarily super loud but boy does he make noise. once he gets inside you he’s grunting and groaning with every thrust, still not separating his lips from yours besides the occasional “fuck” or moan of whatever pet name he’s taken to calling you this week. he’d be grabbing your hips so tightly like if he lets go even for a second you’d disappear (he’s proud of the fingerprint shaped bruises he leaves behind anyway). and when he’s panting into your mouth or the crook of your neck, his thrusts go sharp and deeper than you thought was possible, you know he’s so close. you tug on his hair one time and it sends him flying over the edge (it’s his secret weakness that he would never ever admit no matter how much you tease him about it). he buries himself as deep as he can and holds there like parting from you is the hardest thing he will ever do in his life. his kisses shift from burning with desire to tender and vulnerable and he hopes you don’t say anything about it.

[strangererotica]

Cooper Adams headcanons (nsfw!! 18+!!)

…has his hand on your throat when he’s fucking you…not enough to cause any discomfort but enough to remind you that HE is in control…

…and speaking of control, Cooper’s absolutely got a kink for allowing you to come ONLY when HE says you can…

…big dom energy, ofc…

…bites during sex…eats you out from behind, positioned between your legs, leaving bite marks along the curve of your ass and thighs…

…BONDAGE BONDAGE BONDAGE…seeing you tied up and helpless under him gives Cooper that same sense of calm he feels when one of his victims is at his mercy, along with the added pleasure of sex…plus, the only cleanup he has to worry about afterwards is wiping his dick clean after fucking you…it’s the best of both worlds for Cooper…

…he has a better understanding of human anatomy than most because-well-yeah, Cooper is ‘The Butcher’, after all…and he expresses that extra knowledge in the way he studies your body, the shape of you, running his hands along your curves and feeling the way little goosebumps raise under his touch…

…would not object (would probably encourage) you to refer to him as ‘Master,’ or ‘Sir,’ during sex, or all the time if your relationship has a free use dynamic…

…takes you to one of his safe houses and fucks you…keeps an old blanket stashed in his trunk just for that reason, so at least he isn’t fucking you raw on a cold floor (he’s a gentleman like that…)

…enjoys using his hands to get you off…the same hands that can commit brutal acts against others are used in the most tender ways with you…delicate strokes, deliberately slow as he pulls you closer and closer to the edge, without helping you over till he shows mercy and allows you to come…

…lets you ride his face to get off…wants to be able to smell you in his stubble hours after sex has ended…

…he prefers the security of fucking you in his safe houses over a hotel (receipts, receipts) because it’s less likely his wife will learn of his infidelity (gotta keep those two lives separate, amiright…?)

…knife play…dragging the tip along your skin, his hand pressed flat to your chest…his lips twitching into a grin when he feels your heart rate kick up against his palm…knowing that with every slow, delicate pull of his blade across your flesh, he’s testing your trust in him…because at the end of the day, all Cooper really wants is for someone to see him as something more than a monster…and that someone, is you.

tagging some folks who are thirsting for murder daddy as hard as I am… 💋♥️ @babygorewhore @amethystblackkchaos @cowboynickmiller @xxbimbobunnyxx

[bohemianblasphemy]

Could you do one where Butcher finds out it’s your birthday and you hadn’t told anyone? He shows up at 11PM and surprises you to give you a little thoughtful present and is shy about giving it to you, but he tells you he didn’t want you to think no one noticed.

omg stop this is so cute 🥺

The clock on the wall rang 11pm as you sat alone in your apartment. Sitting on the end of your couch with your chin in your palm, mindlessly flicking through movie options that just numbed your brain- waiting for the hour to tick by for your birthday to be over.

“happy birthday me…” you whispered to yourself, sighing softly.

You didn’t say anything to the others, not that you didn’t want them to know- just not wanting the fuss over you.

you stared at the tv once more, still scrolling for a movie option before hearing a brisk knock at the door. it was unexpected, but made you wary of who may be behind it. Creeping to the door, you looked through the peep hole and was met with one Billy Butcher… holding a balloon?

The door clicker open and you looked at butcher, illuminated by the yellow LED lights of the apartment building hallway. In one hand, he held a balloon in the shape of a smiley face, in the other a bag containing a wrapped item. You looked at him, confused at the gesture. “Billy, what’re you doing here?”

“heard it was ya birthday…” his voice wasn’t in his usual cocky tone, he sounded… shy?

“how’d you find that out?” he shrugged. “a magic fairy told me.” he smiled. “can i… come in?” you opened the door further, watching him walk in. he turned to you as you closed the door, handing you the balloon and the wrapped gift. you chuckled softly at his kind gesture, placing the gift on the small kitchen bench. “you didn’t have to… you know, do this-“ “i wanted to.” he avoided your eye contact. “now open it will ya? ya makin’ me nervous…” he half joked, nerves clearing appearing in his tone.

you picked up the small rectangular item, unwrapping the delicate paper to reveal a CD. it was blank, but the cover had a label titled ‘Songs for you.’ “i know you love music so… burnt some songs for ya.”

“Butcher… i don’t know what to say.” you looked at him, a grin appearing on your face. “thank you…”

“yeah, don’t mention it. don’t go make a big fuss yeah?” he said, feigning nonchalance but smiled at your reaction.

Your heart swelled and you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle embrace. he stiffened for a moment, before relaxing and wrapping his arms around you.

“this means a lot butcher…” you pulled away and looked at him. “don’t get used to it…” he chuckled again, but that softness is still present in his eyes.

“how’s about we have a night in? get you some food, my treat of course…” he smiled at you, seeing you nodded in agreement.

“i’d love that very much.”

[happyprincesscycle]

Imagine: Driving late at night with Billy Butcher

The road was a dark blur beneath the tires, the only light coming from the dim glow of the dashboard and the headlights cutting through the night. Butcher kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on her legs, which were draped across his lap. Her bare feet pressed against his thigh, warm and familiar, like she belonged there.She was half-asleep, head tilted back against the window, eyes closed, a small smile playing on her lips. Butcher glanced over, catching the rise and fall of her chest, the way she seemed so at peace, even with the storm brewing inside him. It was always like this—her, calm and content, while he wrestled with whatever demons clawed at his mind.He gave her leg a light squeeze, rough thumb tracing over the smooth skin just above her ankle. She shifted a little, adjusting her legs on him, and mumbled something under her breath that sounded like a contented sigh.

“You alright there, luv?” His voice was low, a little gravelly, carrying that edge it always had, but softer, somehow, when he talked to her.

She nodded, not bothering to open her eyes. “Mhmm, just don’t drive us off the road, yeah?”. He smirked, eyes back on the road. “Can't promise that.”

The night was quiet, just the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of wind through the cracked window. Butcher liked it this way—just the two of them, the world outside falling away. His hand stayed on her leg, fingers moving absently over her skin, a touch that was both possessive and comforting.She shifted again, getting more comfortable, and her foot nudged against the gear stick. Butcher just chuckled, letting her do as she pleased. There was something about her, the way she let herself be so at ease around him, that made the constant knot in his chest loosen just a bit.

“Gotta say, you make a pretty good passenger, luv. A hell of a lot better than Hughie—kid just can’t shut his gob for five minutes.”

She let out a soft laugh ,“Yeah? Guess he doesn't keep you warm like me huh?” she teased, voice lazy and mischievous. Butcher chuckled, giving her leg a gentle squeeze.“Nah, his legs don’t fit the space" , Billy joked, which made her giggle.

He let his hand drift up, brushing against her calf, a small, almost unconscious gesture, like he needed to feel her there, to know she was real.

They drove on, the road stretching out ahead, the night closing in around them.Butcher didn’t need to say it, but this—her presence, her warmth, the way she made him feel a little less broken—was what kept him grounded, kept him from spiraling completely. Even if he’d never say it out loud, he knew she was the one thing that made the chaos in his life a little easier to bear.

[superbat-love]

When Clark came of age, his parents urged him to find a mate quickly. It was not good for an Alpha like him to remain single for too long, they said. Unmated Alphas were often seen to be aggressive and unruly. So although he was reluctant, he accepted the dates that his parents had set up for him.

The potential marriage prospects that he met came from good families and they were sweet and good-looking, but unfortunately Clark did not feel any attraction towards them. After the eighth fruitless arranged meeting, Clark left the cafe feeling rather dejected.

As he walked down the pathway, he heard a commotion. He turned and saw a young Alpha, who was honestly one of the prettiest Alphas Clark had ever seen, arguing with a large burly Alpha outside a butcher shop. The larger man was apparently unhappy with his purchase, gesturing wildly at the plastic bag he was holding.

“Oh, it’s the ugly Omega’s son.” Clark heard someone snickering behind him. The large Alpha shoved the younger man and he nearly fell. Before Clark could decide if he should step in to break up the impending fight, another man stepped out of the shop.

This man was as large as the aggressive Alpha. He was wearing a bloody apron and his sleeves were rolled up, showing off his rather impressive muscles. He was a handsome man, but with the terrifying look he had on his face and the scent of raw meat wafting off him, he seemed like someone you’d meet in your worst nightmare. He got up in the Alpha’s face, snarling at him. The burly Alpha looked slightly uncertain but he continued ranting at the older man.

Seeing that the butcher did not seem to be intimidated, the Alpha decided that he had enough and barked out an order.

The butcher shuddered as the order passed through him, but what Clark did not expect was for the man to pull back his fist and sock the Alpha in his jaw, hard. The Alpha fell facefirst onto the ground, knocked out cold with just one punch. The younger Alpha who was arguing with him earlier looked shocked, but the butcher quickly pulled him into the shop, away from the eyes of the gathering crowd around them.

“Disgraceful! Not only is he an unwedded Omega, he’s also a violent one. He’s setting a bad example to his kids.” Clark heard one of the onlookers say to her companion. Clark was stunned. The man was an Omega? If he did not know any better, he would have pegged the man to be an Alpha. He certainly carried himself like one, and he had the physique as well.

It was an unexpected end to his day, but Clark could not help but feel intrigued by this peculiar Omega that he had just met.

The Ugly Omega AU

[bluemerakis]

Drabble: Mean!Billy loves grinding fem!reader on his thigh

Word count: 0.8k

A/n: I get late night bitch-in-heat thoughts okay

[18+ ONLY]

Billy’s grip on your hips were relentless—thickset fingers contorting your tender skin until the flesh memorialised the shape of his hands with reddened blotches. The twinge of his nails set off some primal response within your body, a biological plea to flee the grasp of his talons, but the knot in your core kept you grounded against the bulk of his thigh.

Your clit rode repetitive rounds across the length of his jean-clad leg, the trail well marked with the juices he’d been coercing from your depths for the last hour, at least. He loved wearing you down this way—loved wringing the sense from your grasp as you came completely undone at his will, over and over and over again—a puppet stuffed with the mean movements of his thigh wedged between your yearning folds.

Each time you found yourself back in this position, you’d be nothing but a blabbering mess after the second or third induced high, the euphoria so entangled with the cognitive ability of your brain that you were left dumb and disposable at his exploiting fingertips—and a man like Billy Butcher had an unflattering tendency to help himself to more than his rightful fill.

“Fuuuckin’ hell,” he drawled gruffly, rough eyebrows knit together as he admired the fresh, slimy trail overlaying the countless pathways you’d ploughed into his jeans only minutes before. “Yer gonna sue me? Got tha’ cunt workin’ bloody hard and well into overtime. She achin’ yet—doin’ yer ear in ‘bout how unfair all o’ this shite is? Fuckin’ diabolical—this cunt o’ yers. I done milked ‘er dry for the last bloody ‘our, and still she keeps on deliverin’ me more,” he mumbled distractedly, all his efforts imbued into his steering of your hips.

Your head buckled with exhaustion, your tongue nothing more than an incompetent ornament each time Billy forcibly ground you against him in this brutal manner. It was a regular practice of his—a power trip of some sort that you knew he got off on because it was the only way he could have you gobsmacked enough to lay a couple on you.

Words had never been lost on a tongue as sharp as yours, and he always enjoyed the banter served up on a gold platter whenever you’d prowl around him during work hours within the compound—in the shared company of the rest of the Boys. But in here, in his apartment—completely and utterly isolated from their prying eyes, you could be considered Kimiko’s fellow mute for all he cared.

If it wasn’t his cock wedged half way into the warmth of your throat that throttled your wit, it was surely one or the other manipulations he’d perfected on your clit.

“Not such a prattler now, are we, eh?” He groused into your ear as you collapsed against his chest, exhaustion seizing all voluntary movement of your hips—but Billy would force the momentum, anyways, pawing at the skin and pressing you harder against him until your core imploded for the thousandth time.

Your hands furled around the fabric of his shirt, where they squeezed tightly as some pitiful act of defiance to antagonise his degradation—but only breathless gasps fled your lips, and your eyes could barely manage to comprehend the patterns of his shirt that you’d come to memorise within such short time of knowing him.

“Atta girl, doin’ so good,” he murmured into the crown of your head, chin resting onto the support of your collapsed frame. “I’ll let yer off after this last one—promise—just make it a good last one f’me, yeah? Can yer do that for me, Love?”

You stilled against his chest, some petty part within you not so willing to submit to him completely, but the way his hand slid across the curve of your ass to deliver a squeeze and then a harsh clap was enough to coax a whimper of surrender from your stubborn depths.

“You forget, Love, I’ve made me a mental manual on yer body by now—I know just which buttons to press to get ya all muddled up on me lap,” Billy husked against your ear, then stole a gentle nibble of your ear lobe. “Now, brave that poncy l’il clit o’ yers—this finish’ll be a bloody hurrah to behold.”

The friction against your clit built up to an unbearable burn as Billy raked you across his thigh, the pace so brutal that your sensitive extremities felt as though they were being skimmed across hot tarmac. The stimulation was so painfully—yet pleasurably overwhelming that you couldn’t help the pathetic moans spewing from your parted lips, fingers curling deeper into the hold on his shirt.

“Tha’s it,” he husked into your hair, his lips then trailing down your forehead to place an encouraging kiss on the sweat-covered skin. “Tha’s it,” he repeated more steadily—proudly, chin tilting down to where you released the last of your pleasure onto his jean. “Helluva finish, Love,” he remarked with a chuckle, that trademark grin settling onto his lips as he lifted his attention back to you. “Cunt’s nearly as expressive as you—and I do love me a feminist tag-team.”

I just wanted to flex my fingers with something dirty hehehe enjoy it my butcher sluts. The getaway house oneshot is coming soon I promise!!

Masterlist

Tags: @violent-darkness @bohemianblasphemy @babyfri3dric3 @internetitgirl17 @dwinchesterspie1967 @gibson-g1rl

[tojigasm]

Thinking about Butcher nudging his combat boot against your shoe when the two of you are sitting next to one another. Thinking about his combat shoes placed on the floor next to your high-tops, dwarfing them. Thinking about Butcher tying your shoes for you, lifting your leg to rest over his knee and patting your thigh when he stands up. Thinking about Butcher standing next to you and he's just so much bigger and bulkier than you that you just!!! Guys I need him so bad!!

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Nine: Billy Butcher + Stripping/Lacatation

Your belly made it hard to see things as you walked or even just sat down on the couch. Your feet completly covered by the round belly proturding out. At this point you were seven months in to your first pregnancy with Billy.

He loved you unconditional, and you loved him that same way. With every error, or hard thing that might have happened to your relationship you were always there for each other.

The idea child came after at your suggest you did years of fostering. Many child had come and lived with the two of you and as those years went on you saw a rather wonderful, caring side of Billy that you were very excited to see. It wasn't something he didn't show you, just the caring, kind side of him made your heart melt and get you all giddy.

Regardless you were in your third trimenster, and everything hurt you were hot all the fucking time. You had been reading almost every single book about the third trimester. Unlike what they said your sex drive hadn't fallen.

Your sex drive had only increased. You yearned for Billy's rough callused handsto drag down your skin. Yearning for the feeling of Billy slipping right back into your pussy. That thoughts had been running through your head for the past few days. You hadn't seen Billy something about needing to go on business.

But now you as you heard the garage door open, the car drive in and the key jingle in the lock. Your thighs rubbed together with antipiaction.

"Hello love." Billy voice slurred in. He was drunk, not to far gone for you to launch yourself on him. You waited, really you weren't able to move. That's why you waited. "Babe, where are at?" He yelled, "Living room." You yelled back.

Heavy boots landed on the hardwoods floors, and the hooded eyes that landed on you. Black eye that are all consuming. You opted that night for a loose white robe and unaware of Billy drunkness you wore nothing underneath it.

"Well Fuck aren't you such a beaut." Billy muttered. I watched as he clusimly tried to untie his boots, and take off his jacket. Sure he smelt of bourbon, but I didn't really care. "You look so good laying there." Billy muttered as he sat down next to you. You giggle and lbushed at his words.

Even though your ankles were swollen, and you were mostly unkept. You let Billy's words go to your head. Then his callused hands were on your hot body. Cold in contrast to your hot body. Not only were you overly hot all of the time, but you were also very sensitive.

When Billy's lips touched your jaw shivers went down your body. It didn't take long for Billy's hand to come raking up your body, and shift you so fast you felt so pressure on your body. Within a matter of seconds you were on your hands and knees facing away from Billy.

"Fuck, and no panties. What a fuckin' dirty girl." He mutters agasint your skin, and then the sound of his trouser zipper falling down. The seconds the tip of his cock hits your wet pussy moans come falling out of your mouth. You hadn't felt his cock in such a long time. "So fuckin' tight love." Billy groaned out as he thursted harder into your pussy. The harder Billy thursted the more he needed to hold on to you.

He grabbed your tits, hard and with the motion of squeezing and tugging. You weren't even thinking, not until Billy was groaning and laughing behind you. "Look down baby girl." He commanded you, and when you did your cheeks went red with lust, and embrassement.

"Look at you leaking all over the couch, makin' such a mess for me." Billy groaned out as his thursts began to get harder. "So tight whenever I tug on your tits like this. Fuck I bet I can fuck another baby into ya." Billy accent was sending ripples down your body. Finally his words, and thurst started to slow.

The slap of skin, groaning, and moaning was all that filled the room. Finally the edge came like the end of a waterfall. Everything all at once felt like heaven, and you were floating on cloud nine.

Billy made sure not to put all his weight on you, and he brought you up and into his lap.

Hot, sticky, and over filled with contentment.

Completed on: 06/27/23

Posted on: 10/09/23

Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

The Boys Master List // The Anti-Hero Master List // Kinktober '23

[vxxxxed]

Butcher!simon with no self awareness sometimes. Goes without a shower for like 3 days cuz "he'll get dirty tomorrow anyways might as well skip it once-" but he skips it more than once and it just kinda becomes a routine. Maybe somehow gets a date, maybe with a regular in his shop. Being just used to not showering every day he does not pamper himself before the date cuz "who the fuck cares, she gets this or nothing". Maybe only just wearing clean clothes, but the smell of sweat and flesh stays on him yk? AAA

Okay i rambled a bit sorry i need this man smelling like A MAN and in my bed ok.

FIRST ANON WAHOO

I accidentally turned this into uncanny valley possibly a vita carnis mimic gross Simon but I hope you like my shitty additions to your thoughts 😭 this feels really OOC for my own personal interpretation of b!s but WE BALL

Butcher!Simon who honestly just the audacity of this man. Bro finds someone who wants his offputting ass and still doesn't have a wash. Doesn't even bother to whip out the soap, if you will.

But anyway he still shows up to your date, and at least he bothered to put on jeans are those washed out bloodstains? and an admittedly nice black jacket to go with his t-shirt. You can overlook the smell of sweat and iron and cigarette smoke and man, - and what might be a hint of more recognisable blood under whatever cheap ass supermarket cologne he's got on - since at least he's hot and you didn't actually think he'd agree to go out with you in the first place.

The only problem with this whole arrangement is that he just sort of... Sits there and stares at you the whole time. Like, not in a 'oh he's listening to your story and really paying attention, that's cute!' way, but in a 'is he actually breathing this has been going on for five minutes and I don't think he's blinked or moved his eyes at all' way.

Oh well! You're sure you'll have his eyes rolling back in no time once you get him back to your place.