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odilelajolie · 6 months ago

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Hunted, Ch. 1

Summary:

Several years after escaping FBI custody, Cooper Adams has quietly settled in a remote Vermont town. He's a monster in remission--his violent urges lay dormant.

But when he catches sight of Alice, a traumatized 18-year-old girl, a new form of predatory darkness overtakes his demented mind. Young and achingly vulnerable, she's a lost soul as alone in the world as he is.

Alice needs the care of a proper Daddy, and as soon as she stops resisting, Cooper knows she'll accept the special kind of love he's been saving for a special little girl like her...

Ch. 1: Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice

As far as Alice could tell, it would be yet another ordinary night in a long sequence of ordinary nights at the Sugar Maple Diner.

Though it wasn’t as if she entirely minded. There was a strong part of her that actually took comfort in the familiarity of it all, the mundane routine of her small, simple world, regardless of the fact that it was rather dull most days.

Dull meant safe—and safe was a good thing, especially for someone like her.

Alice absently rotated her sore neck and shoulders as she made her way into the cozy, 50s-nostalgic restaurant, offering a friendly wave to the owner, Mr. Andrews, one of the only people in town who still bothered to interact with her. Not only had he given her a job when everyone else had refused to hire her, but he and his wife had even opened their home to Alice on occasion for a glass of lemonade, or tea and cookies, or a holiday meal.

Alice rarely accepted these invitations from the elderly couple, always fearful she’d inadvertently exhaust the goodwill they generously harbored for her. But she appreciated their kindness, an increasing rarity for Alice, so she was always happy to volunteer whenever they needed help with little projects around their house to express her gratitude in return.

Alice idled near the jukebox just beyond the hostess stand to see if Mr. Andrews would return her greeting, but he was busy behind the bar serving beer to a group of chatty truckers, and clearly didn’t have much spare time to say hello.

Shaking off the brief, sharp pang of loneliness, the aching desire for someone—anyone—to talk to her, Alice headed straight for the break room to change into her uniform—an old fashioned pale pink dress with a white apron. She secured her hair in a high ponytail, and exactly five minutes before six p.m., she returned to the main dining room for her shift, forcing a smile on her face.

The hours elapsed in the same, slow fashion they always did. The dinner rush—if merely five parties of no more than four people across three hours could be called that—consisted of the same group of Tuesday night regulars Alice had been waiting on for nearly a year now. Alice no longer bothered with trying to introduce herself, much less engage in small talk with her tables, for the town locals had long made it very clear ever since her return that they had no interest in speaking with her. So instead, Alice remained small and silent as she scribbled orders on her notepad, taking up as little space as possible as she refilled drinks, cleaned up spills, and delivered steaming plates of comfort food from the kitchen.

And she did all of this with her head perpetually lowered, so that no one would have to suffer the unnecessary discomfort of looking at her.

By ten o’clock, the restaurant was deserted, and the only other employee remaining was Ted, the largely wordless cook who kept to himself even more strictly than Alice did. Alice generally took her own meal break around this time when it was just the two of them twiddling their thumbs until closing, silence broken only by the rockabilly and Doo-wop melodies sung by the jukebox. But before she could write down her request for a cup of soup and a half-sandwich, losing herself for a few moments to the croons of Elvis Presley—wring my faithful heart; tear it all apart; but love me—the door chime cheerfully rang, signaling the arrival of a customer.

Alice gulped at the intimidating sight of the new arrival, and he was definitely new—she surely would have noticed him around the tiny town before now if he were a local. He was almost as broad as he was tall—and he was frighteningly tall—with the build of an elite athlete, like a champion MMA fighter, his long limbs hard and big and savage. The charcoal sweater and dark jeans he wore actually seemed to struggle to keep his toned muscles contained.

He had thick, silky hair the color of dark roast coffee, and a closely-shorn mustache and short, angular beard. He was a very handsome man, perhaps in his early-to-mid forties, but when Alice finally met his eyes, she was instantly rendered breathless by a powerful, inexplicable sense of sheer terror that seemed to seize her by the throat, and choke her.

Shadowed by a prominent brow bone, his inky, hooded eyes were disturbingly dark. Chilling. They reminded Alice of the eyes of a shark. Fathomless. Cold.

Predatory.

“Hey there…can I get a table?”

Unlike his frightening eyes, the velvety timber of the man’s deep voice actually inspired an equally strong sense of comfort—relief—causing the paranoid internal alarms within her body to faintly recede.

Alice was rendered profoundly unbalanced, nearly on the verge of collapsing to the floor from the whiplash of such opposing instincts.

Perplexed by her body’s strange reactions to the stranger, Alice quickly nodded and dutifully lowered her head. She reached for a menu and silently beckoned the man to follow her, her shoulders arched nearly all the way to her ears as she timidly guided him to her favorite booth by the windows with the prettiest view of the forest.

He followed her with slow, heavy foot falls, and Alice nearly caved in on herself when she was directly confronted with just how much bigger he was up close as he slid into the booth with athletic, equanimous movements.

Even sitting down, he was huge.

Alice placed the menu on the table once he appeared settled, and reached into her apron pocket for her notepad and pen, waiting expectantly for him to provide his drink order, as all other customers automatically did upon sitting.

But when he didn’t speak after several moments, Alice shyly raised her head, and was surprised to find the man gently smiling at her.

He looked even more handsome when he smiled—

“There you are,” he said warmly, his voice triggering a sudden influx of delightful tingles throughout her weary muscles. “How are you doing tonight?”

Too stunned to speak, Alice felt hot blush rising to her cheeks in embarrassment.

How long had it been since someone had asked her how she was?

Seemingly sensing her unease, the man continued, “Sorry—you probably don’t want to talk with an old man like me,” he said ruefully, and Alice was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. This handsome stranger was being more sociable with her than anyone had in months, and she was messing everything up. “Would it be possible to order—”

“I’m A-Alice,” she interrupted shakily—awkwardly—cheeks boiling at the mousy sound of her own voice.

To her relief, the man’s smile only widened, and there was a flicker of playfulness in his eyes, somewhat tempering the otherwise unnerving quality in his dark gaze.

“That’s a very pretty name,” he replied. “I’m Cooper.”

Cooper. Alice repeated the name in her head. It sounded strong and masculine.

She quite liked it.

“Put us together and we’re rock stars,” he added. Alice frowned in confusion. “I…I don’t follow—”

“Alice Cooper?” Alice shook her head, and Cooper released a slow sigh. “Ahh…don’t mind me—I’m betraying my age here. He’s before your time.”

“Oh. Okay.” Alice swallowed hard. “Umm…w-welcome to the S-Sugar Maple Diner,” she offered, remembering she needed to do her job. It had been so long since she’d been required to introduce herself to a customer that Alice was quickly finding she was woefully out of practice with the basics. “M-may I get you something to drink, sir?”

“Well I was taking a look at what you have on tap, but I notice you don’t have a bartender right now,” Cooper mentioned. “And I suspect you’re not quite old enough to legally go behind the bar.”

“Yeah…the bar closes at nine on weekdays. Mr. Andrews—he’s the owner—he already left for the night, and he usually handles that stuff.” Embarrassed, Alice tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Call me Cooper.”

“I’m sorry, Cooper.”

“So, how old are you?”

“Eighteen—but I’ll be nineteen next month.”

She wasn’t sure why she shared that detail. It certainly wasn’t as if her upcoming birthday made her seem any less young and pathetic.

“Ahh…definitely too young to pour alcohol.” Cooper softly chuckled, his deep-chested rumble pleasantly tickling her ears. “In that case, how about a nice cold glass of Coke?”

“Would you prefer a frosted glass or ice?”

“Ice, please.”

Alice wrote down the order with a nod. “Coke with ice, coming right up.”

She began to turn on her toes to prepare his soda, but then he spoke again.

“So what do you recommend here?” Cooper asked.

“Recommend?” Alice repeated slowly. “You mean…to eat?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Alice realized what a stupid response it truly was.

The townsfolk’s collective avoidance of her was clearly not entirely to blame for her poor conversation skills.

Of course he was asking her what to eat. She was a waitress. It was her job.

Mercifully, Cooper didn’t poke fun at her idiocy. “Yeah, what’s your favorite thing on the menu?” he asked. “If you were to join me for a meal, what would you order?”

Alice squeaked, “You want me to join you?”

Cooper’s eyes widened, and he appeared even more shocked than she was. “Well, I was speaking hypothetically, but…sure! Why not. Care to join me?”

Alice thought she might actually pass out from embarrassment.

Not only had she forgotten how to have a normal conversation, but she’d forgotten all about basic social cues. Sarcasm. Hypotheticals.

Cooper was being friendly. Nothing more. He didn’t actually want to spend time with her—he just had good manners.

“Umm…I’m really not supposed to…” Alice trailed off, nervously biting her lip.

Unperturbed, Cooper shrugged his mountainous shoulders. “Perhaps some other time then.” Leaning forward, he lowered his voice and added in a conspiratorial murmur, “I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble on my account.”

There was an undeniably patronizing quality to his warm baritone, but it wasn’t condescending in a negative way. The lilting way Cooper spoke was gentle, daresay caring, the low pitch of his manly deepness perfectly matched with a bright, uplifting enthusiasm.

Cooper spoke to her the way Alice remembered her own father used to speak to her—as if no one else in the world existed. As if she were important.

As if every word she spoke were the most brilliant thing ever to be uttered in history of the world, and he couldn’t get enough.

Cooper had a…Dad voice, the kind of voice that felt like a warm, clean blanket fresh out of the dryer.

He had a voice of absolute safety—a voice that made her feel brave.

Like she could do anything.

“I recommend the deluxe cheeseburger with fries,” Alice said, unable to contain her giddy smile. “Ted makes the best in town.”

Cooper kept a careful gaze on Alice through his peripherals as he chewed and swallowed the mediocre cheeseburger, though he made sure to provide plenty of appreciative grunts and moans throughout his labored consumption for the girl’s benefit.

He’d been patiently watching her for nearly a year now. It wouldn’t do well to worry the skittish thing when he was so close to finally making her his, for little Alice was a painfully insecure, highly sensitive girl. She was pitifully naïve and defenseless, lonely and desperate for affection.

She was perfect—and finally ripe for his taking.

When he’d originally made the decision to settle down in the middle of fucking nowhere, Vermont after several years on the run, he’d simply planned on living quietly for whatever remained of his existence. The monster within lay dormant—at least for now—the compulsion to destroy and dissect no longer eroding what little remained of his sanity. The urge had been a sickness, a magmatic fever, burning so hot in his veins it was boiling him alive. Cooper knew quite well it would have killed him eventually.

But now, his insides were…cooler, warm instead of blisteringly hot, and the dark, animalistic impulses currently thrumming through his body were far less bloodthirsty in nature compared to his prior proclivities.

Perhaps he was in remission.

He’d spent more than forty years keeping the two opposing halves of his psyche strictly separate, diligently compartmentalizing every aspect of his life down to the most minute detail, but when he’d caught sight of this tiny angel of a girl almost ten months ago—so sweet and innocent and frightened and alone—Cooper was leveled, and struck with an epiphanic clarity.

Perhaps the separatist approach to mitigating his dangerous urges no longer served him.

Perhaps the only way for him to survive was by reconciling his infernal hungers, once and for all.

When Cooper had escaped FBI custody—doubling his body count in the process—he’d been forced to accept that the closest thing to real human connection he’d ever been able access, his family, was lost to him forever. He missed being a husband. He missed being a father.

But when he saw Alice, he realized he could still be both.

She was as alone in the world as he was, an isolated little girl shunned by nearly everyone around her. At merely eighteen, she was young and exceedingly vulnerable, in dire need of a loving authority figure to guide her and keep her safe.

And yet, she was also a woman. Barely legal, but a woman nonetheless, and a mouthwatering one at that. Alice was a tiny thing, shorter even than Riley was when he last saw her, her petite body a tight little package of soft, untouched femininity he was growing more and more ravenous to taste.

Cooper had always been partial to blondes, and his little Alice was a natural platinum. A “baby” blonde.

Sweet little baby blonde with her pretty baby blue eyes—

With her milky skin and delicate features—not to mention those pouty pink lips just begging to have something hard shoved between them—Alice could look like a porcelain doll one moment, and a sex kitten the next. She was an undeniably gorgeous girl, not yet aware of her erotic allure, and under different circumstances, he knew she could have had any man on his knees begging to fuck her.

Fortunately for him, the entire town thought she was batshit crazy.

And Cooper was certainly not one to be put off by a little madness—

“How’s your dinner?” Alice asked sweetly from a few tables away. She’d been refilling ketchup bottles and rolling silverware for the last twenty minutes or so, responding beautifully—albeit awkwardly—to his subtle prompts for casual conversation.

Cooper wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin and made an exaggerated show of patting his stomach. “You were right—this is the best burger I’ve ever had,” he lied smoothly. “Excellent recommendation, sweetheart.”

The girl’s cheeks instantly flooded with pretty pink blush—she likes being called sweetheart—and she shyly lowered her head, but couldn’t resist looking back at him mere seconds later with a demure giggle.

Good girl. She found him attractive.

His depraved plans would be much easier for her to adapt to with her sexual attraction already engaged—

“Can I get you anything else, Cooper?” Alice asked. She sounded hopeful.

His left eye twitched at her use of his first name, one of the few…ticks beyond his control, as a small spark of violent rage kindled deep in his gut, leaving a sickly metallic taste in his mouth.

The urge.

Cooper was suddenly overcome with a vision—a lucid hallucination, really—of marching directly to where the girl stood, and shoving her to the floor so quickly the air would be knocked out of her lungs. He saw himself tearing off her clothes and wrapping his big hands around narrow torso, and squeezing, hard enough to crack her ribs, before mounting her like a beast in the wild, ready to take his quivering bitch in heat. He wanted to feel her small, supple body struggling beneath him, his scared, mewling kitten desperate to free herself by any means necessary.

He wanted her to scream. He wanted her to cry.

She was so fucking tiny he’d absolutely crush her with his size. Cooper was already far bigger than most people, but compared to his little girl, his sweet little nymph, he was indestructible, as vast and powerful as a god.

He could do anything he wanted to her. He could violate her beyond recognition.

He could fuck her within an inch of her life—

Realizing he’d zoned out far longer than intended, he released a sharp exhale to snuff out the ember of fury, reminding himself that it was perfectly okay that the girl was calling him Cooper—for now.

She’d be calling him Daddy soon enough.

He forced himself to smile, carefully schooling his features to the affable façade he used specifically for putting people at ease.

Like clockwork, the girl visibly relaxed.

“Just the check please, sweetheart.”

Hunted Ch. 2: Dream A Little Dream Of Me

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58229851/chapters/148279471

#ao3 fanfic #trap 2024 #trap movie #cooper adams smut #cooper adams #the butcher #cooper adams x reader #cooper adams x ofc #cooper adams x original female character #trap film #dark romance

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enchantedflameandflower · 6 months ago

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Billy Butcher fic! H/c with a lot of c a bit of fluff and just a minute of soft!Billy for fun! 18+

“It ain’t an insult, ya know. Callin’ ya princess. Think of it like…what’s that story…Beauty and the Beast.” He gestured to himself on the word ‘beast’ and she turned to face him. She couldn’t help grinning.

“You have a talking tea cup hidden somewhere in that coat?” she teased him, her eyes shining as she stepped closer.

He reached out to her, sliding his hand around her waist beneath her robe and tugging her closer. “No, but I can make some magic if ya like. Just say the word.”

“Hmm,” Addison hummed. Such a bastard.

more below the cut!

~*~*~

I also just started a x reader fic with Karl's character from Pete's Dragon! Check it out here! Gavin x reader

Tag List: @2dead2function @secretdreamlandmentality @nosebeers @vavafaure1994

This takes place before and during the last ep of Season 3! I really really hope you enjoy! Thank you so so much to everyone reading, you're the best! I am so sorry I've been so slow, things have been really hard lately <3

Karl Urban Masterlist

Part 1

previous (Part 36)

~*~*~

Part 37

As soon as she turned the shower off the next evening she heard his heartbeat. She stepped out, drying off quickly and pulling on her nightgown and robe before she went out to the living room.

Butcher was standing by her big glass windows, scrolling through something on his phone and she watched him for a second before she spoke up. He looked good, no cuts or bruises, no scowl, but still there was something weighing heavy on him, she could tell. Something besides Ryan, and..and the other stuff.

“Hey,” she murmured softly, rounding the high counter to go into the open kitchen.

“‘Ello, princess,” he looked up and turned toward her, stuffing his phone in his pocket.

Addison grabbed a tea kettle, filling it with the filtered water from her fridge. “You’re never going to stop with that are you.”

“You’re wearin’ a French silk robe, sunshine. It looks more expensive than my whole apartment.”

Addison bristled. “I’m…sure that’s not true. Anyway, I have sensitive skin,” but her lips quirked when he caught her gaze with a cheeky grin. “And I bought it for myself for my birthday. When I didn’t get anything else, you know,” she lifted her brow.

“Aye,” he winced, “sorry, love.” He came into the kitchen, leaning against the counter while he watched her turn the stove on. “It ain’t an insult, ya know. Callin’ ya princess. Think of it like…what’s that story…Beauty and the Beast.” He gestured to himself on the word ‘beast’ and Addison turned to face him. She couldn’t help grinning.

“You have a talking tea cup hidden somewhere in that coat?” she teased him, her eyes shining as she stepped closer.

He reached out to her, sliding his hand around her waist beneath her robe and tugging her closer. “No, but I can make some magic if ya like. Just say the word.”

“Hmm,” Addison hummed. Such a bastard.

He seemed to take that as word enough and he added his other hand into the mix, curling his strong fingers around her hip and pulling her against him. He dipped his head, pressing his mouth to hers and she sighed softly as she easily gave in to his kiss. His scent filled her senses, his beard tickling her skin and she made some soft little sound that made him press her closer but she pulled away again almost immediately.

“Oi,” he protested.

Addison searched his dark eyes. “Just checking. I thought you might turn into a prince,” she whispered, grinning up at him.

He shook his head. “Sorry, princess, still a right bastard.”

“Ah well…”

He captured her lips again and she reached up to twine her arms around his neck but the tea kettle whistled and he had to reluctantly let her go.

“Tea?”

“Sure,” he answered.

“Any luck finding Mindstorm?” she asked carefully, pulling two cups down from the cupboard.

“Not a bit,” Billy answered and secretly she felt a swell of relief. Mindstorm was unpredictable and terrifying. She wasn’t sure Billy even understood how much.

They curled up on the couch together and Addison put on an old movie. When she was done with her tea she set it aside and Billy lifted his arm to draw her against him, her head against his shoulder. When he started running his fingers through her hair all hope of staying awake left her.

Halfway through the movie she had fallen deep asleep against him. She only woke up again when he scooped her up in his arms to carry her into the bedroom.

“Mmm,” she half-protested sleepily. “I’m too heavy now.”

Billy scoffed. “Don’t be daft. You’re perfect, love. I can carry ya both.”

******

It was the very next night, Addison was woken up by Billy climbing into her bed in the middle of the night again. She flicked her gaze to the bedside clock. Two am. She couldn’t help a little flutter of…relief? Joy? …whatever it was - that he had come back another night in a row, even if she was annoyed at being woken.

He climbed in the bed slowly at least, lifting the heavy blankets and trying not to jostle her, but it was of no use.

Addison smiled to herself and made a soft little noise, shifting lazily. She couldn’t help teasing him. “Mmmmm,” she breathed. “Joe, is that you?”

Butcher froze and she could just see him rolling his eyes in the darkness as he huffed at her and flopped down on the bed, yanking the comforter dramatically. “You think you’re a real comedian, dontcha?” he grumbled.

Addison chirped happily, but then he slid his hand over her waist and it was freezing, making her yelp.

“Come warm me up now, love, to make up for that, yeah?”

Addison laughed quietly and he dragged her body into the curve of his, her back pressing to his chest. Though his hands were cold the rest of him was warm and toasty as usual and she almost moaned at how good it felt.

Pressed against him now, she quickly drifted off again and was only woken hours later by the sound of Billy’s heart starting to speed. He was entwined with her, wrapped tight around her body and clinging as if she were his lifeline.

“Billy?” she whispered. Another nightmare. He squeezed her tighter, his body jerking violently, but holding her seemed to calm him and he fell back asleep. His pain was palpable and she felt her own heart squeeze. She laid down, closing her eyes, but keeping close to him.

When she woke again he was still clinging to her. Soft morning light was just starting to peek around the curtains.

He blinked slowly, his gaze landing on her as he came to. His arm moved and he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to her hair.

“I didn’t expect you two nights in a row,” she murmured after awhile.

“I don’t think it’s…this…is…a good idea,” he murmured gruffly. “But I ain’t disappearing either. Not now.”

“Well I never said I thought it was a good idea,” she deadpanned. But it was true. “But now it’s done, I can’t help but want this. I meant what I said Billy. I can do this on my own. But I still want you as long as you’ll stay.”

He shifted, tucking her in against his body. “I can’t say I won’t be terrible at all of it. And I can’t say I’ll stop… But I want to know…” he shifted again, and her eyes pricked with unshed tears at him finally admitting he wanted to know the baby, before he spoke again. “But I won’t risk you. Not at all. And you damn well better take your own safety more seriously now because I will not stay just to see you get hurt or worse while you’re…” he swallowed. He still couldn’t quite say it out loud.

“I will,” she whispered.

“But Addi…” he moved and turned her so he could look into her eyes again. “You gotta promise me…don’t let me fuck this up. If I…” he frowned closing his eyes for a moment. “If I fuck up, you do what you have to. Get away from me, protect…her or him, at whatever cost to me, it don’t matter. Promise me,” he whispered fiercely.

“I promise.” She whispered. Of course. She would.

“That's my girl.”

“But you have to promise me something in return. Please try to just stay alive. Please.”

He didn’t answer.

*******

Addison’s phone rang just as she was getting ready for bed a few nights later. It was late, and Billy almost never called. She dried her hands quickly and went to the bedroom to grab her iPhone off the nightstand.

Grace Mallory.

The only thing it could be was very bad.

“Hey boss,” Addison answered curtly.

“Addison. Are you with Butcher?”

“Nope,” Addison sat down on the edge of her bed, tense, although she tried to pretend she wasn’t. She didn’t mean to be short but it was just in her nature not to give any more information than she had to. Even to Mallory.

“He’s not answering my calls, and now his phone’s off,” her tone was strained, and Addison sensed there was a lot she hadn’t been told.

“Why wouldn’t Billy answer your call?” she asked. Of course, Billy was never predictable, but since Ryan was with Grace, he was unlikely to ignore her. Which meant there was something else going on.

“It ended…poorly…the last time he was here,” Grace answered, her tone sour.

Addison sighed inwardly. They both had a temper and a mean streak. Something bad must’ve happened and whatever it was must’ve been awful for Ryan, but that seemed to be a problem for another time. “Well, he told me he probably wouldn’t be reachable tonight.”

“And you’re just fine with that?” Grace scoffed.

“Yeah. I am Grace. I’m not going to be his fucking keeper. Why? What’s going on?”

“There’s a problem.”

“Isn’t there always?” Addison answered dryly.

“If you hear from him, tell him I need to talk with him urgently.” And she hung up.

It wasn’t even an hour later Vought Tower blowing up was all over the news.

*****

Addison’s phone was across the room when it rang again the next morning. She’d barely slept all night but she was racing across the room and fumbling the answer button on before the first ring even finished.

“What the fuck M.M.. Is everyone ok?”

His answering sigh was the heaviest she’d heard yet. “Not Maeve. But otherwise…yeah. It’s bad, but Butcher’s alive.”

Addison took a huge breath, slumping to the counter stool. Her hands were shaking but she managed to keep the phone pressed to her ear, while she pressed her other hand to her face. She knew she had to be prepared, but to lose him now… “Thank fuck he had that shit running though his veins then, I guess...”

“He didn’t.”

Addison’s head shot up. “What?” she froze. There was no way…

“He didn’t take it, Addi. I don’t know why, but he didn’t take it.”

*~*~*~*

Part 38

I'm working on the next parts now, plus more Gavin x Reader and Billy x reader requests! This is the first time the story is taking a major turn from the show, hope it’s fun to read!

#billy butcher #karl urban #the boys #billy butcher smut #the boys tv #smut #billy butcher brainrot go brr #karl urban brainrot go brrr #the boys fanfiction #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #billy butcher fanfic #the boys billy butcher #billy butcher fanfiction #karl urban fanfiction #karl urban fanfic #billy x ofc

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bimboyaoi · 4 months ago

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☆ Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense ☆

☆ Popstar!OFC x Bodyguard! Billy Butcher ☆

This is a continuation of the last little scenario of that last post! Hope you guys enjoy it ;3

18+ MDNI

Billy softly knocked on your door, not wanting to wake anyone in the rooms nearby and have someone find out he's visiting you at such hours of the night.

You eagerly opened the door with a grin, wearing a short baby pink nightgown, the material was almost sheer. Billy tried to no let his gaze wonder to your exposed body, keeping his eyes on your face and your pretty smile.

You take his hand, your hand so much softer and smaller than his, and pull him inside. "I'm so happy you actually came!" You say, trying to keep your voice down as you sit down on the bed as he stands in front of you.

He smiles and places a hand on your cheek, soflty caressing it. "You know I can't resist you, princess." He says and uses his other hand to place a strand of your hair behind your ear. "What's keeping you up, luv?"

You hum as you lean into his touch, cheeks warming up at his attention and words. "I dunno..." You lie, not knowing how to tell him the reason you're actually up this late is because you can't stop your mind from fantasizing about him and his touch in the most inappropriate ways.

He chuckles and raises your head so you'll properly look at him. "Yeah you do." He says with a smirk and moves his thumb to soflty tug on bottom lip. "Why don't you tell your dear old Billy the truth, dear?" He says, but it's more of a demand than a question.

'Your Billy'. Your cheeks flush even harder at that. The thought of him being yours, of you being his, brought fire to your insides. "I... couldn't stop thinking..." You mutter, looking at him with big eyes.

"Yeah? About what, princess?" He says and steps closer to you, making you have to crank your neck even more to look at him and his smirking face, almost as if he already knew.

You gulp and flutter your eyelashes, trying to find the courage to say and he chuckles. Seeing the overly excited and confident girl he knows being turned into putty in his hands.

"You..." Your voice comes out barely above a whisper, embarrassment clouding your senses. You knew he felt the same, you both knew, but there was something so embarrassing of admitting it to him like this.

"Me? Oh I'm flattered, sweetheart." He says in an almost condescending tone. "Just that? You couldn't just be thinking about my existence, I'm sure."

You giggle shyly at that and nod no. "Was thinking about your mouth... and your hands... How they'd feel against me... And your..." You stop, not wanting to say, but he got the message, making him smirk and chuckle again.

"That's why you're up, princess? Had so many naughty thoughts about me, that you got too horny to sleep?" He says and squats down to look you at eye level, like you'd do to a child. "That's why you called me, begging me to come? Hoping I'd touch you in that tiny nightgown of yours?"

Your cheeks heat up even more and you bite your lips as you nod, feeling embarrassed and aroused. He took your hand of your cheek and stood up, looking down at you with an almost evil like smirk.

"But if I remember correctly, my little girl told me over the phone we wouldn't do anything naughty. Remember that, princess?" Your eyes widen at his words and you grip your pants, trying to bring him closer again, to busy trying to get him to fuck you to notice he called you his.

"What? No! Come on, Billy! Please! Just this once! I promise." You whine and try to pull him, but his strong build makes him stay steady in place.

He crosses his arms and chuckles. "I dunno, princess. I don't really think that's true. I think if I fuck you right now, you'll ask- no. Beg for it every night." He eyes your desperate expression and almost caves in, but he knows that he shouldn't, that he can't.

You whine again, pouting your lips softly, trying to think of anything to convince him to help you out.

An idea strikes your mind and you kneel down on the bed, looking at him with a pleading expression. "Just lend me your hand then! You won't have to do anything! I'll move it! It's just so much bigger than mine!" You mewl and bring your hands together as you beg.

His smug expression falls and he raises his brows, looking at you shocked. He suppose it could be breach to what you said. At first he just stared at you, then slowly moved to sit beside you and placed his hand on your lap.

"Just this once. We won't do this again, sweetie. You know very well we can't." You smile wide at his words and immediately shift your position, trying to find the best way to do this.

"Okay." You take a deep breath with a smile. "Sit behind me." You say and part your legs, still kneeling. He crawls behind you and gives you his hand again.

You take his hand and guide it to your core, using your hand to push your soaked underwear to the side. You gently grab one of his fingers and slowly push it inside yourself, moaning softly.

It was so much bigger and thicker than yours, making it so much better. You start to grind your hips on it, wishing he would actually move his hands, but taking what you could get, moaning and panting.

It doesn't take long for you to want more, so you guide another one of his fingers inside, the movement making the palm of his hand bump against your clit and you mewl.

You're too busy fucking yourself on his fingers to notice the turmoil on Billy's face behind you. There's absolutely nothing that he wants more right now than to take control of the situation, to finger you until you're nothing but a squirming mess in his arms. But he keeps to his words, torturing both of you.

You throw you head back as you moan, pressing his hand deeper, reaching a spot you never felt before, bringing tears to your eyes. Your walls start clamping around his fingers and you come, soaking his hand and the bed.

You pant, leaning on his and he presses a kiss to your temple. "There we go, princess." He murmurs against you and takes his fingers off you, making you whimper. "Think you can sleep now, sweetheart?"

You nod slowly, body still in that daze and he chuckles, moving to put you under the covers.

"Sleep tight, love." He mutters and presses a kiss to your forehead. You flutter your eyes closed and smile, but what you don't see is him walking out with the two fingers that were inside you in his mouth.

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butchersboobs · 2 months ago

Text

Twist

A Billy Butcher pov fic.

Tissues at the ready...

NSFW below the cut - MDNI

Words: 1,771

PART TWO

Tags: @babyfri3dric3 @dumpy-little-nobody

_____

It's a bloody miracle - supermarket's dead, for once. No screamin' kids, no pensioners 'avin’ a barney over the last tin o'custard. Just me, me basket, and a list o'shite I can’t be arsed t'buy. Bread. Milk. Whiskey. The usual bollocks.

I’m by the biscuits, tossin’ up between 'obnobs and bourbons when I see ya. Strollin' down the aisle, clear as day, pushin’ a trolley like you just stepped out the life we 'ad together and into some domestic fuckin’ fantasy.

And you ain't alone. There’s a kid wiv yer. A boy, ‘bout three, maybe four. Dark 'air, big eyes, and I swear to Christ - e’s a bloody photocopy of me.

Me blood goes cold. Can’t move, can’t breathe - I just stand there like some prize twat, starin’.

You clock me. Yer face does this wide-eyed panic fing, like a fox cornered by a pack o'dogs. “Billy,” ya say, gobsmacked.

I nod atcha, casual-like, even though me 'eart’s bangin’ like a fuckin’ drum. I glance at the kid, then back at you. "Who's this little bloke, then?"

You 'esitate - a bit too long, if ya ask me - then put yer 'and on 'is shoulder, all protective. Like you’re expectin’ me t'kick off. "This is Oliver," you say. "Oliver - say hello to Mummy's... old friend."

Old friend, my arse.

I crouch down, meet the kid’s eyes. E’s lookin’ at me like he’s sizin' me up, and bugger me, it's like me own bloody face is starin’ back at me. "Alright, Oliver?" I say. "I’m Billy. Nice t'meet ya, mate."

The kid nods, all shy-like, and grabs 'old of yer leg. And before I can ask another bleedin’ question, yer mutterin’ some excuse about bein’ in an 'urry, and you 'n the kid bugger off sharpish

But it's too late to run now, love. I know full well that li'il lad is mine.

I fuckin' know.

-----

I coulda left it there. Shoulda, really. But you know me - can’t leave well enough alone, can I?

So I drop me basket right there, leave some poor sod to restock the 'obnobs, and I follow ya. I keep me distance, mind. Stay outta sight. Ain’t tryin’ to scare ya - just... I dunno. Just wanna know where you're takin’ 'im.

Ya lead me to this little 'ouse on the edge o'town. Curtains drawn, toys littered in the garden. You get the kid inside, shut the door, and that’s that.

I stand there for a bit, feelin’ like a right cunt. Should I knock? Walk away? What the fuck ya s'posed t'say to a woman who walked out on ya years ago wivout bovverin' to tell ya she was up the duff? Or that she'd dropped yer sprog?

-----

Didn’t sleep a bloody wink that night, did I. Nah. Tossin’, turnin’, replayin’ the 'ole fing in me 'ead.

Oliver’s face, your panic. That gut-punch of realisin’ I got a kid. My kid. Couldn’t shake it.

By the time the sun came up though, I’d made me decision.

I’m back at yer door before I’ve even 'ad me morning cuppa, knockin’ loud enough to wake the dead.

You answer in yer dressing gown, 'air a mess, lookin’ like ya just rolled outta bed. “Billy,” ya say, pissed off. “How the fuck did you find me?”

I shove me hands in me pockets, tryna look casual. “We need to talk.”

You sigh, step aside, and let me in. The 'ouse is nice enough - small, cosy. There’s toys everywhere: blocks, cars, some dinosaur wiv one leg missin'. But no sign of Oliver.

“Oliver’s mine, ain’t he?” I say - no point pissin' about, is there.

You stiffen. “Billy—”

“Don’t bovver tryna lie to me. I seen 'im. E’s me all over. Ain’t no denying it.”

Yer shoulders sag, and ya look at the floor. “Yes,” you finally fuckin' admit. “He’s yours.”

The room tilts. I grab the back of the sofa to steady meself. “Bloody'ell.”

I should be angry. Furious. But all I feel is this weird, 'eavy mix o'pride and terror. I’ve got a son. A son.

“Why didn’t ya fuckin' tell me?” I ask, me voice low.

“Because you’re you, Billy."

That stings, but I can’t argue. You ain't wrong. My life’s a fuckin' mess, and it’s no place for a kid. Told meself that a thousand times since I met 'im yesterday. But the need to see 'im again just won't fuck off.

“Look, I can't just walk away, alright - not wivout... I dunno. Seeing 'im. Properly, I mean.”

“Billy, I don’t—”

“I ain't asking for much,” I cut in “I just... I just wanna meet 'im properly. That’s all.”

Then a little voice pipes up.

“Mummy?”

We both turn. Oliver’s standin’ in the doorway in 'is pyjamas, rubbin’ 'is eyes.

You soften instantly. “It’s okay, baby. Go back to bed.”

But 'e don’t. 'E just stands there, lookin’ at me.

“'Ello again, Ollie,” I say, crouchin’ down to 'is level. “Sorry if we woke ya., mate”

He don’t say anyfin, just keeps starin’ at me wiv those big brown eyes.

You sigh, running yer 'and through yer hair. “Fine,” you whisper “You can see him. For a little while. But he doesn’t know who you are, Billy. He’s too young to understand.”

I nod. “Fair enough.”

-----

I never thought I’d be 'ere. Never thought I’d be playin’ bloody games wiv a kid. I mean, I’ve been in worse places, yeah, but this… this is summink else.

Oliver’s sittin’ on the floor, this scrappy little toy truck in his 'ands, lookin' up at me like I’m some sorta mystery he’s tryna solve. Me - Billy Butcher - the last person a kid like 'im should be dealin' with.

“So, you like trucks, ay?” I ask, squattin' down beside 'im, tryna make me voice sound less like a bloody crook. Can’t be talkin’ all gruff and growlin' at the poor lad, can I?

Oliver looks up, eyes big as saucers, 'is little 'ands gripping the truck like it’s 'is best mate. “Yeah! It goes vroom vroom!” 'e says, 'is voice 'igh-pitched, full of excitement.

I blink at 'im, a bit taken aback. Kid's got more energy than a bloody power station.

I chuckle, leanin' back on me 'eels. "Yeah, I can see that. Goes fast, does it?" I’ve no idea why I’m askin'. I couldn’t care less about toy bloody trucks, but somethin’ about the way 'e says it, so eager, like it's the most important fing in the world—fuckin'ell, it almost makes me wanna play along.

“Yeah!” he nods so 'ard, I’m 'alf expectin’ 'is little 'ead to fall off. “And when it goes fast, it boom boom!” He slams the truck down on the ground, makin’ it bounce.

“Boom boom, ay?” I laugh, a proper one this time, catchin’ myself off guard. Ain't 'eard a sound like that in years. Can’t even remember the last time I genuinely laughed.

The kid grins, lookin’ up at me wiv that hopeful look, like 'e’s waitin’ for me to join in on the fun. I’ve never been good at playin’ games wiv kids, 'specially not after what 'appened with me own bloody family. But 'ere I am, messin' about with some toy truck, tryna figure out 'ow t'not screw this up.

"Alright then," I say, takin’ the truck from 'is 'ands. "Show me how it's done, mate."

Oliver giggles, 'is little face scrunched up in concentration as he starts tappin’ 'is 'ands on the floor, making engine noises. Vroom, vroom, boom boom!

I can't 'elp but smile. It’s awkward as fuck, but I’m damn well tryin'. Maybe I’m not so bad at this after all. Don’t matter that I don’t know the first fing about toys, or that I ain't got a clue what the 'ell I’m doin’. What matters is the look on the kid’s face, the way 'is eyes light up every time I play along.

"Oi, kid, I fink your truck’s got more power than mine," I tease, pushin’ the toy truck across the floor with a bit too much enthusiasm, makin' it slide all the way to the other side of the room.

Oliver looks at me with wide eyes, 'is mouth open in awe. “Really?”

I give'im a little smirk. "Yeah. Faster than a bloody Formula One car, that is. Your truck's a bit of a monster."

E’s noddin’, 'is mop of black hair bouncin’ wiv every movement. “It is! It's the fastest in the world!” 'is words tumble out like he’s tryna convince me. 'E really believes it. And that’s somethin’, innit? Kid’s got imagination, that’s for sure.

“Right, right,” I mutter, noddin’ along, but then I get a bloody idea. "Tell you what, Oliver. How ‘bout you race your truck against my truck? Let’s see oo’s faster."

I rummage through me pockets, pullin’ out me old lighter. It ain’t much, but it’s a novelty car one, wiv wheels, so I push it across the floor wiv a cheeky grin. "It’s not as flashy as yours, but I reckon it’s got a bit o'speed in it."

Oliver’s eyes go wide, and before I know it, 'e’s on his knees, eagerly makin’ little engine noises again. "Ready, set, go!"

We both push our 'trucks' across the floor, and I can’t 'elp but laugh as e’s all serious about it. Kid’s givin' it his all, makin’ these wild noises, and I’m just pushin’ a bloody lighter, tryna make 'im fink I’m into it as much as 'e is.

But then, just as we’re about to finish the race, 'e lets out a loud yell and scoops up both trucks, clutchin' 'em to 'is chest like 'e’s won the Grand bloody Prix. “I win! I win!”

I raise me 'ands in defeat, laughin' despite meself. "Yeah, yeah, you’re the fastest, kid. I give up. You beat me."

E beams up at me, so proud of 'imself that 'e can’t even sit still. “I’m the best racer ever!”

I can’t stop smilin’ at 'im, watchin' 'im prance about like a little king. For a second, just a second, I forget I'm me. Forget what a fuckin' mess me life is. I’m just… 'ere. Wiv 'im. Wiv Oliver. My boy.

“Yeah, mate, you are,” I say, me voice quieter than usual, a little softer. "You’re a bloody star, you are."

And that’s the fing, innit? There’s summink about this little lad that gets t'me, summink I can’t shake. I know I said I just wanted to meet 'im, but I’ll be damned if I can just let 'im go now.

That kid deserves a far better man than me for a dad.

But for 'im, I’ll bloody try to be that better man.

PART TWO

#billy butcher #billy butcher imagine #the boys #billy butcher x you #billy butcher fanfic #billy butcher the boys #the boys billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x ofc

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itsstrange · 2 months ago

Text

Pool Of Lube

Fandom: The Boys, Karl Urban Stans

Relationship: Karl Urban x Reader

A/N: Something That Has Been Dusting In My Notes and That Is Going To Be Part of Random Adventures. Something Funny & Cute! I Hope Ya’ll Will Enjoy These! 💚

Summary: Just Another Adventure That The Reader Has While Working On The Set of The Boys.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: (No) Fluff, Cute, Humor, Funny, Injuries, Reader and Their Adventures, Slightly Injured Reader, Supportive Karl, Slight Mention of Blood, Missing Tooth..

—————

ENJOY! 💚

—————

<< Previous Adventure

————————

“I’m gonna fall into a pool of what?”

“Pool of lube. You’ll also be doing a fight scene,”

Your eyes dart from Eric to the writers, then back at Eric, “I’m gonna fight.. in a pool.. of lube?”

“Yeah,” The man nods with a dangerous, overexcited, wide smile,

You couldn’t do anything other than stare at him with a grim look. You were clearly regretting in even considering joining the team, you definitely now regretted accepting Eric’s offer to being a part of The Boys. Yet, deep down you knew you didn’t mean it.

“You’ve got issues Kripke,” Is all you say before sighing in defeat. Picking up your script you rise from your chair to leave the room,

Eric only chuckles as he yells out after you, “See you Thursday!”

That was Tuesday morning. It was barely 6:50 am— not even 7:00 am when you had to meet up with him and the writers in the office to discuss minor changes to your schedule for the week, but little did you know you’d only be getting awaiting trauma.

Now coming Thursday, here you were on set observing the hand-built mansion. You currently stood in what seemed to be the living room section of the set with house lights flashing around the room, smog being blown on the floor to make it look more like a house party, because that’s what it was. The scene you were currently about to shoot was taking place in a mansion where a party was being thrown by a couple of Supes, which is where your character and the rest of the gang come in. The Boys were looking for a certain Supe to interrogate to give them more information about another Supe who supposedly had confidential evidence against Homelander, however, in order to find said Supe, your character and the rest of The Boys had to crash the party.

The scene was semi similar to Herogasm, only difference was it was less nudity and more action packed, which eventually results into a full blown brawl inside the home and also results in you fighting in said a pool of lube.

“Fucking Kripke,” You whisper to yourself as you see team members pouring gallon after gallon of lube inside a medium-ish size pool,

You’ve done pretty crazy stuff for other shows, movies, even music videos at some point, but nothing will ever, ever compare to the wild shit you’ve done while working on The Boys. Ever. This show has definitely gave you some trauma and nightmares from what the things you’ve done, (joking of course) but it’s definitely something you still haven’t gotten use to, despite working on the show since the beginning of season two and having done wild shit since then.. Kripke always manages to rethink your life choices when it comes to being apart of the show. (Joking once again. Kinda… not really).

As you stood a few feet away from the set being prepped, you watched as team members continued to pour gallons of lube inside the pool, then switched your gaze to other team members fixing other parts of the set or just adding a couple more things on the floor. You were practically ready to shoot. You had your costume on for the shot, you just had to wait till the set was ready and for Kripke to find the angles he wanted to shoot. So as you stood waiting, mind constantly wondering why you haven’t quit you hear footsteps walking towards you. Then a familiar voice.

“So what exactly are you shooting today?” You hear Jensen’s voice, a little confused but also teasing at the same time,

Looking over your shoulder you catch his eyes for second before your gaze almost immediately locks onto familiar hazel orbs. He walked alongside the Texan. Both men had their own costumes on, looking handsome as ever, but it was him that remained swooning you by just his goddamn smile, charisma, humor, love.

Both men walk towards you, but it was him who kept his eyes on you with a wide smirk on his face. You couldn’t help the heat that rises on your cheeks, causing you to roll your eyes at him with a shake of your head, smile forming on your face when the son of a gun doesn’t even try.

“Hell Ackles. Pure utter hell,” You comment, smile still on your lips but feeling it widen when you feel him next to you, then his hand settling on your lower back,

Turning to your left you lock eyes with him once again. His irises casting a beautiful green shadow with a splash of brown in them. The smirk was still displayed on his lips.

“Okay guys! Here’s the plan!” Kripke announces with a clap of his hands, breaking the small moment, “We’re gonna shoot the fight scenes first, grab a few angles from different sections of the set, and little bit of dialogue, then straight to the lubricant,”

The man excitedly explains. A bright light flashing in his eyes as he goes over the plans for the day. A look only a kid would get when walking into their favorite toy store. You won’t lie, you were rather excited to shoot today. You always enjoyed filming with the gang, especially fight scenes considering your character was a Supe and not only because you got to do a lot of action scenes but also because you were an adrenaline junkie. You craved and sought for action. You’re always looking forward to filming whenever it came to action scenes or single shots of you “flying” or landing on the ground. You just loved it.

However, despite your love for filming adrenaline moments, you were in fact not looking forward to the later scenes. The scene where you’ll be covered in slimy, slippery, cold lubricant. Which, you’d like to point out, you had to fight in said lubricant. How would that look? You weren’t sure and you didn’t want to know.

“Any questions? Comments? Concerns?” Eric questions with wide, excited eye balls,

You stare at him with a deadpan look, then look over his shoulder when you see team members with more gallons of lube. You were beginning to grow worried because… like what the fuck was he planning on doing with the remainder of those gallons?! Making it rain?!

Oh fuck. He probably is.

“Yeah..,” You begin, pointing a lazy finger behind his shoulder, “Is.. all that really necessary Eric?”

Everyone looks in the direction you were pointing. Noticing how people kept stacking gallons of lube on the side of the set. Earning a worried yet amusement agreement from Jensen, but a soft chuckle from him.

“It really is actually. Since we’ll have the air conditioner on practically all day today it’ll dry everything up, so we’ll be pouring more in between scenes to keep it nice and fresh,” Eric says with a smile then finishes with, “Plus, I cut a deal with Durex,”

You stare at him with a slight, worried, weary, wary, disgusted look. Yet, before you can comment on the monstrous gallons of lube again, someone is calling the man from across set. So with another quick run-through of the plan and making sure everyone is on board, he quickly jogs to a crew member where they immediately dive into conversation. Who are most likely talking about getting everyone ready to start filming.

“Well.. despite the trauma you’ll experience today. It really is great seeing Kripke expand his imagination,” You hear Jensen comment, knowing a proud smile is displayed on his face,

You scoff with a shake of your head, “Think he’s expanding it too much these days,”

Your comment earns a chuckle from both men this time. But feel the way he gives your hip a comforting squeeze before feeling him pull you closer to his side. Getting a whiff of his delightful cologne.

“Whoa, who and what is being expanded?” You hear another familiar voice settle on your right, turning you meet eyes with Jack’s blue orbs, smirk playing on his face,

“Kripke and his traumatic imaginations,” You say, wrapping your own arm around his waste,

Jack hums with an agreement nod, “Oh yeah they’re wild. But you gotta admit, their pretty fucking awesome,”

You hear Jensen give a short chuckle as you turn to Jack with a deadpan look, “Weren’t you complaining just last week for that.. tentacle shoot?”

A smirk tugs on your lips when the man’s face glaze’s over with a traumatic look. To this day you’re not even sure how any of you have lasted this long with the show, you were certain one of you would eventually pull back from the show to take a much, very much needed ‘mental break.’ Okay okay.. you’re being dramatic and probably should never be the one to welcome or warn new actors onto the show otherwise they’d be scared to even step foot on set. But you are being serious about the wild shit you’ve done and encountered while working on the show, definitely the most interesting things you’ve got to experience over the years.

“Yes. Yes I did. And I am so glad that it’s over,” Jack responds with a relieved laugh, earning a sincere chuckle from you,

That tentacle scene will forever be… explicit. And you know it’ll haunt Jack for the rest of his life. It would horrendously suck if the team decides not to add it to the show, because Jack spent hours. Hours shooting that scene. And you know for a fact if they don’t add it, Jack would very much stomp his way to the editing room and add it himself. He did not spent hours being traumatized by a very very large alien-like tentacle slithering across his body for it to not be added to the show. Absolutely not, he would not have that.

After another few minutes of standing to the side of the set and communicating with each other, two makeup artists had called out letting each one of you they’d like to do last minute touches before filming began. As Jensen and Quaid walked over to them, you glanced towards the set once again before letting out a heavy sigh as you glare at the gallons of lubes stacked up in the far corner of the set. Why lube? Out of all things? It just had to be lube?

“Don’t get too excited love, otherwise Kripke will continue with his diabolical shenanigans,” You hear his deep Kiwi accent fill your ears, then feeling the way his strong arms hug your waist from behind,

Instinctively, you lean back against his firm chest. Your hands sliding along his forearm before letting your fingers interlock with his.

You scoff as your eyes continue staring at the crew members making last minute touches to the set, “That’s the problem with Kripke though! Whether you’re excited or not.. he still does shit like this!”

Karl’s deep chuckle vibrates in your ear. Feeling the way his chest slightly moves against your back.

“Looks like it should be an easy one then aye? Walk in the park,” Your head turns to look him in his beautiful eyes, a smirk displayed on his face as he sees your own eyes widen,

“That’s another problem! I won’t be able to walk! Let alone fight in it!” You exclaim while waving your hand towards the set, specifically where crew members were now adding props around the lubricated pool,

Karl chuckles once again. He’s enjoying this moment way too much.

“Well, at least it’ll be a smooth one to shoot. You’ll slide your way through filming today,” Karl jokes again, causing you to lightly punch him on his shoulder as a chuckle slips from you,

“Shut up you’re not helping,” You say in between faint giggles, but the moment you go to move away from him, his hand slides down your arm until it clasps around your wrist,

He gently tugs on it, pulling you back to his chest. His wide, proud smirk still displayed on his face as he wraps an arm around your waist once again while the other goes to place a loose strand of hair behind your ear. A faint chuckle slips through his nose at your small pout, so, he decides to kiss it away. Gently, he latches his lips with yours. Two, small long pecks to your lips has you instantly melting into him.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as you savor his loving kisses.

“Better?” Karl asks after a moment, his brow raised and a faint smile on his face,

You purse your lips as you hum, almost as if you’re thinking. Your fingers gently play with his dark locks at the base of his neck, “Mmmm.. no not really,”

Karl’s smile widens at your response, but doesn’t resist when you tug him back to your lips. His own hands that were settled around your hips tighten their hold as he pulls you closer to his chest, his lips molding beautifully with yours. Just slow, tender kisses being poured from each other. Despite Karl not being a fan of pda, he’ll gladly kiss away your frustrations. Public or not. He’d do it.

++++

“We need more lube!”

“I’m drying up here!”

“Kripke I swear if I break a finger from this!”

“Oh my god!”

“Oh shit! Sorry I splashed some on the camera..”

“I need lube,”

“Hang on.. I’ve got lube up my nose,”

“This is absolutely ridiculous,”

“More Lube!”

“Oh my god I almost fell!”

“Jesus! This shit is so impossible to walk on!”

“Am I the first person to fight in a pool of lube?”

“No,”

“Oh,”

The back and forth chaotic comments you’d share was all you can hear throughout filming on set. You were sure most of them would be added to the gag reel, if anything everything you said would be added without it being edited and cut. Yet, despite the monstrosity and traumatic moments of filming, you were genuinely having fun. Yes, the scene was beyond chaotic, but it was also incredibly hilarious. Laughter was constantly being filled on set as you or the stunt woman—Shay— that you’re currently working with would often slip or nearly slip from the goddamn lube.

Or, one of you would try and land a choreographed punched but only either ended falling straight down to your ass or would send flying lube to your eyes or to the camera lens. It was definitely the most messiest shooting you’ve ever done.

Besides the fake blood moments you’d have to endure while working on The Boys, you’d definitely say this is the messiest shooting you’ve done in your life.

Like now for instance, a crew member was currently pouring a gallon of lube over your head. Kripke had wanted one more final shot of you tackling Shay out of the pool and onto the ground, so he wanted the lube to look fresh on both of you as he grabbed the shot.

You honestly stop counting after the third gallon of lube, but you were sure of yourself that you’ve lot have used nearly 40 to 50 gallons already. The empty ones tossed and stacked inside a large container prove to you that the usage of lube had surpassed the limit of 20 gallons.

What scared you was, just behind the set laid more gallons, waiting to be used.

“We good?” You mumble when you don’t feel anything being poured on your head. Your head faced downward as your eyes were closed shut to prevent any of its lubricant contents to irritate your eyes,

“Not quite. I ran out. Gimme a sec, I’ll be back,” You hear Larry say before slightly hearing him walk away,

A soft sigh escapes from you as you stay put. Not like you had anywhere else to go, or could go without falling straight to your already sore bottom. So, you just stood there. Head low, eyes still closed, arms slightly raised and parted away from you as if you aren’t already covered from head to toe with lube. Every other second you’d spit on the ground when you feel its lubricant touching your lips. You just knew you looked ridiculous standing the way you were standing. Awkward and slicked with lube while still in the pool.

Despite your current situation, throughout filming you weren’t the only one laughing. Behind the cameras where the rest of the cast sat watching through the monitors, which would include; Karl, Jensen, Jack, Laz, Tomer and Karen, you can hear them laughing and cracking jokes as they watched with too much amusement. You had even caught Jensen and Jack snapping a picture or two at your state. You had threaten to hurl a glob of lube towards them if they kept it up, you didn’t of course, you were too busy focusing on not eating shit. But you did make a mental note on getting back at them one way or another.

“Well well well, don’t you look like a newborn baby lamb,” The familiar accent of Billy Butcher rings beautifully in your ears. A small smile tugs on your lips as you turn in the direction of his voice,

You hoped you turned the right way.

“Ha ha very funny,” You sarcastically respond, but the smile forming on your lips lets him know it wasn’t sincere,

Karl chuckles as he stands a few feet away from you. His hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans as he watches your disgruntled look. Lubricated or not, you still managed to look beautiful to him. He was hands down mad for you.

“I can’t see a damn thing,” You mumble as you try wiping away the lube from your closed eyelids but feel how you only add more slick,

Chuckling softly once more, Karl carefully steps closer towards you. His boots taking cautious steps against the slicked floor that surrounded you. Once near, he reaches a hand, his thumb gently and carefully wiping away the lubricant from your eyes. He had to wipe a few times, but eventually your breath taking orbs slowly blink open. They immediately lock with his hazel ones, and oh my god were they just astonishing. The light hovering slightly above illuminated his dark navy Hawaiian shirt, blending it perfectly with his beautiful irises.

“How’s that?” He questions, a small smirk framing his lips,

You let out a tired sigh. Your shoulders slightly slumping. But a smile still manages to tug on your own lips, indicating you were grateful for his little affection.

“I’d hug you right now but..,” You let your words hang in the air as you glance down at your soaked frame. Earning a soft chuckle from the Kiwi,

“Yeah..wouldn’t want that love,”

Another exhausted sigh slips from you, “Am I nearly done? I’m cold and I wanna shower already,”

Karl snorts at your small pout. His thumb once again wiping away a small streak of lube sliding down your temple.

“I’ll talk to Kripke in calling it for the day,” Karl states as he glances around set, his eyes darting from one crew member to the other before letting them settle back on your frame,

He noticed how you were glaring at him with a playful expression in your eyes. He furrows his brows at you while shoving his hands back in his pockets, but it was then he fully understood for your current playful glare. Larry was back and carefully pouring more lube over your head and frame. A soft snort escapes from Karl as he watches the crew member drench you once again, noticing the smirk on the Larry’s face as he continues doing his job, he was lucky you weren’t facing him other wise he’d definitely be the one covered in lube. Somehow.

“I’m expecting something special and or expensive from you after all of this is done,” You say out loud, an eye closing shut when you feel liquid sliding down your eyelid,

Karl chuckles once again, his hazel eyes igniting with pure admiration, brightness and love as he continues staring at you.

“Guess I should start brainstorming then aye?”

“Sounds like a smart idea,” You mutter before spitting once again when liquid touches your lips,

With that, Karl shakes his head with a deep chuckle before carefully walking away when Kripke calls out on set that he’s ready to start shooting. As Kripke angled the cameras, made last final touches on some props and asked Larry to pour another gallon of lube over you and Shay, everyone was ready to shoot. You let out a heavy exhale as you share a look with Shay that resulted in you both chuckling before positioning yourselves for the take.

It was supposed to be a simple shot. Just you tackling Shay out of the pool and onto the ground, the effects team would later edit the scene to make it look more extra, but for now, your human self had to somehow tackle a grown woman out of a slippery pool without ruining the take.

So, angling yourself in a certain way and gripping onto Shay’s arms, you were confident enough that you’d be able to land it first try.

You were in fact wrong.

The moment Kripke’s voice echos on set and yells action, both you and Shay wrestle for a few seconds before you go to tackle her out of the pool. However, the padding underneath your boots was too slippery, the moment Shay lands on the ground just as planned, you too feel yourself slipping and falling forwards. What comes next was something you hadn’t expected, a sudden jolt of pain washes over your right side of your jaw. The moment you had slipped and launched forward, you didn’t realize just how close Shay was until your jaw had connected perfectly with her knee. Stars erupted in your vision for a hot second as pain radiated through your face, cutting through the jollity of the moment.

“Oh my god! (Y/n) are you okay?” Shay hurriedly asked as she reached out for you,

You had slowly maneuvered yourself to lay on the ground, your back against the cold, slicked floor awhile you clutch onto your sore jaw. You hear Kripke yell cut somewhere on set then the sound of hurried footsteps against the ground. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you make a noise in the back of your throat, letting Shay know that you were okay despite the agony pain traveling up your jaw.

“(Y/n)!?”

“Mmm.. I’m okay,” You softly murmur through the pain as you slowly rise to your knees,

As you sit on your knees, hands holding you upwards you begin to taste heavy copper in your mouth. Fucking great. Anything else!?

“Alright let’s— let’s take a break. 15 minutes, everyone,” You hear Kripke speak just as you feel strong hands slowly and carefully pulling you up on your feet,

Once upright, your eyes turn to the person helping you up, only to meet with Karl’s worried hazel orbs. His eyes desperately scan your face, searching for any signs of harm. However, his worried scowl quickly washes away and is replaced by a wide smile when you send him a smile of your own. Your teeth coated in blood is all he can see, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Fuckin’ hell love. C’mon let’s get you cleaned up,” Karl says in between chuckles as he carefully guides you both away from set,

You slightly wince when the pain on your jaw slightly intensifies causing you touch your jaw once again, however, just as your fingers make contact with your cheek your blood slightly freezes in your veins when you feel something fall on your tongue. With furrow brows you place the palm of your hand in front of your mouth before spitting onto it, coating your hand with blood. Your eyes grow wide as you continue to stare down at your bloody palm.

You didn’t notice you had made it to where the rest of the cast sat around with their own worried faces, nor didn’t you notice the way Karl had stopped walking when you suddenly halted your steps.

“Oh my god! Is that your-“ The sound of Jack’s voice wildly announcing in the small space has you lifting your eyes,

A disbelieving laugh escapes from you as you let your other free hand reach for the tooth on your palm. You raise your hand in front of you, a wide, bloody smile on your face as you display the loose tooth held between your index and thumb.

“Oh that’s just gross,” Laz is the first to comment with a shake of his head before averting his eyes back to his phone,

“Jesus (Y/n).. how hard did you fall?” Jensen questions as he carefully examines your bloody tooth,

Another chuckle falls from your lips as you look over at Karl who simply shook his head. His fingers running through his dark hair, yet, you didn’t miss the way the corners of his lips lift upwards. His hazel eyes land on yours, a heavy sigh falling from his mouth while you only send him a giggle before making your way to a mirror on set. Once standing in front of one, you open your mouth to try and see where exactly the tooth belonged.

With the little light hanging above you and the blood coating your entire mouth, you managed to see a gap just at the end of your lower jaw. It was a molar that had been knocked out.

Another giggle slips from you as you continue scanning the inside of your mouth. Of course this would happen to you and only you.

“Lose anymore?” Karl asks behind you,

Slightly moving to the side, your eyes meet his through the mirror, seeing the way his mouth was curved into a small smirk but can still see the worry lingering in his eyes.

“I don’t think so. Just the one. I hope,” You mumble the last part as you grab the paper towels that he hands you before once again spitting into its rough texture,

You grimace at the dark red liquid coating the white towel before folding it and wiping away any other blood around your mouth. He then extends an uncapped water bottle to you, which you take with a small smile. Untwisting it and taking a sip, you swish the water in your mouth for a few seconds before going to spit it out, however, an amused look settles on Karl’s face as he watches you look around. Your cheeks inflated due to the water in your mouth, earning a soft chuckle from the Kiwi.

After of what seemed like seconds in trying to find the perfect spot to spit out the bloody water, you glance up at Karl, who only stares at you in silence. A brow rising as a soft chuckle fans past his lips.

“Bloody hell woman,” He mumbles beneath his breath along with a shake of his head as he turns to walk to his chair,

Seconds later he returns to you with his now empty paper coffee cup. Your inflated cheeks stretch into a smile as best as they can as you accept the cup. You spit inside the cup before rinsing your mouth again, you do it a few times until you feel the blood has limited and you’re able to talk without having blood oozing out of your mouth.

“How are you (Y/n)? Heard you loosened a tooth,” Kripke questions. His eyes scanning your features until they land on your palm, where your molar rested, causing guilt to settle on his chest,

You shrug a shoulder with a smile. This time your teeth fresh and clean from blood, “I’ve had worse, I’ll be okay,”

Kripke looks at you, then to Karl, then back to you. A small smile tugging on his lips, he’s always admired your determination, both on and off screen.

“Good to know. We’ll be calling it for today,” Kripke claims,

“You sure? It feel like I messed up the shot,”

Kripke was quick to shake his head, his smile still on his lips, “It actually came out perfect. Despite you sacrificing a tooth, the shot actually looks great,”

You snort. How ironic, in order to get the perfect shot you just needed to get physically injured to make it look real.

“You’re welcome?” You say with a soft chuckle, earning one from both men as well,

With that, Kripke apologizes one last time for pushing you so hard, which you were quick to wave it away with a sincere smile. Giving you a gentle pat on your arm, Kripke walks away, leaving you alone with Karl once again. Who by the way was already covering your entire soaked frame with a towel, causing a wide smile to form on your face as you clutch the towel tighter on you when a cold shiver runs down your spine from the sudden temperature change.

“So.. what do you think the tooth fairy will put under my pillow tonight?” You ask him with a grin as you both slowly walk out of set,

He scoffs, “A bunch of painkillers and a phone,”

“A phone?” That’s an odd one.

“Yep. Because first thing tomorrow mornin’ yer makin’ an appointment to the dentist love,” Karl tells you before giving you a quick peck to your lips and walking away. A snide smirk spreading on his lips when he knows he just bursted your bubble.

You stop walking and stare dumbfounded at his departing back as reality hits you.

The dentist? Well fucking shit..

——————

-> Alright Ya’ll, As Promised! Here’s Another Ubran x Reader Fic Meanwhile I Finish The Reacher x Reader!

-> Believe It Or Not, This One Has Been Sitting On My Notes For The Longest Now, So I Hope Ya’ll Enjoyed This One!! 💞✨

-> Also, Yes! This Is Actually Apart of A Series In Case Ya’ll Haven’t Noticed!

-> Anyways! Stay Tuned For More Updates!! Make Sure To Turn On Post Notifications🔔!!

———————

#the boys x you #the boys x y/n #the boys tv #the boys series #the boys smut #the boys imagine #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #billy butcher x supereader #billy butcher x y/n #billy butcher x ofc #billy butcher x you #billy butcher smut #karl urban x reader #karl urban x you #karl urban x ofc #karl urban #karl urban smut

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sayafics · 7 months ago

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Little White Lies - Teaser

I have been thinking about this for an unhealthy amount of time, but I need me some Butcher angst and SMUT

When Soldier Boy had been handed back over to Grace Mallory, Billy thought it best to keep it hidden from her.

Aurora had grown close to the soldier - able to see past the facade that had grown under the eyes of the media and millions, had come so close to loving him even. Butcher knew it was better if she thought he was dead, never able to return, even if the others disagreed.

When quiet feelings, ones hidden and repressed over the months she had known the Boys, clawed their way to the surface in the midst of her grief, Butcher had found it hard to deny her.

Still, he told himself he did not feel guilty, even as his heart turned and twisted when Aurora looked to him for comfort; when she fell into his arms and into his bed, when she searched for his warm body any chance she could.

He would deny guilt pooling in his veins, even when he knew with every sigh and moan and breath she gasped against him, she wished it was Ben on top of her and not him.

He didn't feel guilty for lying.

He didn't.

He would have kept this secret until his death bed, which was not too far in the future anyway, if he was being honest.

But the truth always did have a way of coming to light.

#billy butcher #soldier boy #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x ofc #billy butcher x y/n #billy butcher smut #billy butcher angst #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy angst

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highinmiamiii · 6 months ago

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love will always be a lesson, let’s get out of it’s way.

-prisoner by the weeknd ft. lana del rey

CRIMINAL!BILLY x JERSEY WIFE READER

a/n: hello everybody here’s a short little blurby installment to @billybutcherxyou/ @foxiewrites and i’s prison!Butcher au. this one is just pretty much pure nastiness…Billy finally gets visitation privileges and Trouble has to make it worth his while. somehow…she just misses him

so much :(( i’ll be putting out a little masterlist sooner or later so that everything from this universe can live in one place and be easier to consume. FOR NOW ALL OF THESE SHOULD LIVE UNDER #prison!billy butcher ON MY BLOG

(CW: mentions of male masturbation, panty stealing/gifting?, foul language, hypothetical violence)

Trouble doesn’t know what had gotten into her today, truly.

the idea had popped into her head as she was getting dressed, a little voice in the back of her brain directing her thoughts toward the maxi skirt she’d bought on an outing last weekend.

the fabric was opaque, impossibly silky. ebbing and flowing along the dips of her body all the way down to her ankles. tight enough to show off her figure but not enough to restrict her movements. easy to maneuver in without being too obvious.

that’s precisely why she has absolutely no issue wiggling her panties off each hip under one of the prison’s many visitor tables, letting the black lace slip over her knees and around her ankles.

she lets one foot slip out of the garment, lifting her leg to brush against Butcher’s calf slowly.

huh?

he whispers, amused at what he thinks is a little game of footsie. the brit palms at the meat of her calf lovingly, traveling down down down until calloused fingers close around her ankle.

oh.

he’s quiet when he says it, eyes blown wide with a mix of shock and arousal. she barely hears him over the bustle of the visitor hall, the small smile gracing his face being her only indication of what he’s about to do.

“jesus fuck you dirty little shite—“ he suppresses a groan.

Butcher delicately lifts the fabric from around her leg, scanning the perimeter to make sure no one’s looking. darkening eyes bore into her as her sleazy husband balls the garment up in his fist, bringing his closed hand up to his mouth.

and then he kisses it. kisses her panties through the gaps in his fingers without ever looking away, sending a lightning bolt of arousal straight to the deepest pit of your stomach.

you swear you see him stuff the fabric down the front of his pants before he heads back.

˚ ✧ ───

her little gift doesn’t last a chance in the shitty hiding place he picked, haphazardly thrown under the swell of his pillow while he eats lunch in the mess hall. all Butcher knows is that they were in his cell mates’ greedy little paws by the late afternoon, the two insufferable men huddled around the item like schoolgirls reading a magazine.

“how the fuck did you get these past customs?” his bunkmate asks in disbelief, turning the fabric over in the dim light. Another one of butch’s prison mates runs a lithe finger over the lace border in silent interest.

“didn’t get it in the mail dumbass,” her husband sneers, snatching the black lace from both men with a huff.

“so y’r broad snuck them to you, huh?” the inmate teases, head hanging off the edge of the bunk with boredom.

Butcher couldn’t curbstomp the two young men half to death with his boots like he usually would, disappointing as that was. He had to get out of here. Had to be by her side when she had their baby finally.

he did only just get visitation rights back again after his last infraction.

the last time he’d beat someone’s face in was after the younger man had got his hands on a picture of you, earning Butcher 2 months in solitary confinement.

he really did think he was starting to go crazy, spending 22 hours a day in that padded room with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. being fed through a tray slot in the wall like a fucking zoo animal.

more time in solitary meant less time with her. less time with the picture of her he tacked to the underside of the top bunk with a wad of gum, palming himself slowly as he takes in the sight of her sweet little smile he knows all too well.

less time with the soft clutch of your panties caressing the underside of his dick, catching milky ropes of cum as he finishes all over his stomach on the slab of metal this place calls a bed.

and a whole lot less time of building your future together, doing mundane, boring shit, painting your little rascals room, doing taxes, laundry, morning coffee, quickies in your childhood bedroom whenever he had dinner at your family’s. god, he fucking missed her. he was a right idiotic cunt for getting himself in this mess in the first place. if it wasn’t for all of this then you would be in his arms right now, he’d be feelin’ his baby kickin’ and fightin’ to get out of it’s mama’s belly. how it should’ve been.

so if Butcher had to bite his tongue till he drew blood and settle for jerking his dick raw as a distraction, then so be it. at least your little present would keep him good company till’ your next visit.

#billy butcher #billy butcher brainrot go brr #billy butcher smut #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher nsft #billy butcher brainrot #karl urban #karl urban x reader #billy butcher au #billy butcher x reader au #prison au #billy butcher headcanons #billy butcher x ofc #billy butcher oneshot #billy butcher x y/n #billy butcher x you #billy butcher blurb #prison!billy butcher

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weallhaveadestiny · 7 months ago

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OK SO

I started to think, that's never a good thing, but I can't get Butcher out of my fucking head and I read a shit ton of ff about him, and after many many years, it seemed I found inspiration again to dabble in fanfic on my own lol.

So behold, what my mind created, feedback is very much welcome for real HELP ME BE BETTER

I don't know if I'll do a follow up, who knows?

I didn't want to go to this party. For fuck sakes, why am I here?

I'm here because of one person, Frenchie. We met at a flee market, I was hussling with a seller in French and this dude fucking appeared out of nowhere. Apparently he doesn't have any friends who speak our language. So ye, I guess he needed that. He is a weird guy, but we hang out sometimes. He calls me mostly late at night when he can't sleep and talks rubbish about his "missions" like he is some type of agent I don't fucking know he seems high 24/7.

Anyway he was bugging me so much about this party, it's not even his, but he wanted me to come. Because "mon amie amuse toi un peu" aka I don't get out enough for a woman in her 20s and it's a crime. So here I am, left alone by mister Frenchie with a glass in my hand, thinking if I escape now he wouldn't notice. Sounds cliche I know but I genieunly don't feel good surrounded by people I don't know. Call it social anxiety, I call it "I don't like people syndrom".

OK lemme find an exit, where is the door in this fucking mansion?

I was looking everywhere until I saw this guy. Brunette, arms crossed, looking at me super intensely across the room. What the fuck is this guy's deal? Jesus I don't have time to deal with men. So now I'm just crossing this room, having to pass in front of him to get the hell out of this place.

"OI leaving already?" The fuck ? I kept walking

"Frenchies girlfriend, I'm talking to you."

I looked at him, not saying anything. I should just keep walking.

"I guess Frenchie likes them quiet ain't he?" this time I fully turned to him, fuming.

"What did you just say to me?"

The dude was actually smirking, who does that?

"she talks!" Frenchie got to us. Fuck...

"Ava mon amie, monsieur le Charcutier. You already met?"

" Pas du tout. Frenchie j'allais justement partir, excuse moi mais vraiment It's not my crowd."

"Come on Ava you can't leave already"

"You know how I am around people I don't know, and you know so many people here, one less is nothing."

"Come one now love, live a little" says monsieur Charcutier? , still smirking, his body tilting in my direction. I was so done with him already.

"Charcutier dude..."

"Actually it's Butcher but you can call me Billy." he winked, he fucking winked.

"I'm not talking to you." I turned towards Frenchie

"Frenchie, I'll call you in the morning to check on you" I got closer to him to do our usual 2 kisses.

"Don't be a cunt and stay. Afraid you might enjoy yourself?" Butcher just doesn't ever shut up. I turned to him and pointed my finger in his direction. I could actually hear Frenchie chuckling.

"Listen here, butcher boy, I don't owe you shit, you don't know me, so don't act like you do"

"Frenchie tell your friend to get that stick off her fuckin' ass and have a drink with us." he said, never breaking eye contact with me

"Ava mon cœur... Come on, just an hour... For me?" He gave me those puppy eyes. Who was I kidding?

"You have one hour, ONE HOUR and I get out of here okay?"

"je t'aime" Frenchie said, hugging me like a mad man

"yeah yeah je t'aime aussi" pushing him off me

"And where's my hug?" Says Butcher

"Go fuck yourself."

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #the boys #billy butcher fanfic #billy butcher x ofc #karl urban #what the hell am i doing #i'm sorry #i'm a mess #feedback is welcome #My life is cringe time always #billy butcher x you #billy butcher imagine

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zepskies · 1 year ago

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And So It Goes - Part 20

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

Summary: As Madelyn Stillwell’s personal assistant, Helena Flores finds herself caught between protecting her job, and more importantly her life—or helping Billy Butcher bring down the supe who killed her best friend, Becca.

AN: We’re almost to the end!

Word Count: 5,000

Tags/Warnings: Angst, peril, love triangle, a final showdown, character death, and a goodbye…

ASIG Series Masterlist

20: Father & Son

We’re probably gonna die, Helena thought, as M.M. pulled their off to a shaded side street behind Vought Tower.

Kimiko and Frenchie soon split off to get down to the lab, after Helena gave them precise directions on the best way to get there. While Hughie went to the Security control room to try and evacuate the building, Helena went with M.M. and Annie up several floors to find Butcher and Soldier Boy.

Once they got up to the upper floors, they came across a few stray Vought employees that were hastily making for the stairwell. When M.M. questioned where they were going in such a hurry, one of them answered, “Homelander’s about to fight Soldier Boy.”

Helena, M.M., and Annie continued at a faster clip down the hall, where they were able to hear familiar voices. M.M. slowed them to a stop in front of an office door, drawing his gun. Annie stepped in front of them protectively.

When she broke into the room, she raised a glowing hand. She soon dimmed it when she realized what was happening. Even M.M. stopped short, but Helena pushed through them both as her mouth fell open.

“Ryan!” she gasped.

He was with Homelander at the far end of the room. They, along with Butcher, Maeve, and Soldier Boy turned their heads at the intrusion. It was three on two, but Homelander had a loose and familial hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Ryan, a—are you okay?” Helena asked. She tried to step forward, but M.M. held her back. She glanced at him in annoyance, but he raised his brows at her.

She realized then he was just trying to protect her from making a potentially dangerous move forward, even though he was probably still angry at her. She was grateful, but still worried when she met Ryan’s blue eyes.

“I’m fine,” Ryan answered, though his voice had a slight shake to it. He seemed happy to see her (as happy as he could be in a moment like this), but Homelander’s hand kept the boy from taking a step forward. Helena softened, her heart aching. Homelander must have found him…and taken him.

She glanced at Butcher next. He was eyeing her in what the bloody hell are you doing here sort of way. She gave him a look he ought to know well.

For you, you idiot. But her focus shifted back to Ryan.

Without Helena realizing, Ben’s gaze had drawn to her—at her panic-stricken face when she saw the boy with Homelander. Now that he knew who Ryan was, it made Ben look at her harder. She’d known what she was doing when she kept that information to herself, about her best friend’s son. His grandson. But Ben also begrudgingly understood why she kept that secret.

She was an idiot to come here though. His mouth firmed in a line when, unbidden, something she’d told him filtered back through his mind, on that first late night in her home.

“Why’re you up, anyway?” Ben asked.

“Well, I could blame it on the pain,” she replied, after downing two pills with her water. “But um…I keep replaying yesterday in my head, over and over like a bad movie. It always stops at the part where I look up at Homelander’s psychotic fucking eyes, and I just…I knew.”

Helena shook her head. Ben’s lips tugged downward.

“Knew what?” he asked.

“I’m officially on his hit list now,” she said.

And the way she couldn’t help but look at Homelander in fear, like the supe was some kind of monster… Ben couldn’t help thinking (deep down), would she say the same of him?

“Don’t you see?” Homelander said. Once again, he commanded the attention in the room, even though it was Ben he was talking to, as if all the others didn’t matter. They were just specks in the realm of his existence.

Homelander smiled. “You have a family. You have him, and you have me.”

He nodded at Ryan, his hand tightening a fraction on the boy’s shoulder. Ben saw the kid tense up a little. Ryan’s eyes shifted from Homelander behind him, to Ben. And then beyond him, to Helena, and even Butcher. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to be, and Ben saw it.

Deep down, he could relate.

He stared back at Homelander, this thing that should’ve been his son. Ben’s lips quirked, and he stepped forward.

“It’s a shame that I’ve missed so much,” he said, in the face of Homelander’s burgeoning tears. “I wish I could’ve raised you, and taught you, father to son.”

“That’s okay,” Homelander whispered. “We’re not alone anymore. We have each other.”

Ben’s smile became more dry. He grasped Homelander’s shoulder. “Maybe if I’d raised you, I could’ve made you better. And not some weak, sniveling pussy, starved for attention. But there’s no fixing that now.”

“Weak?” Homelander echoed. His expression had dropped from tearfully hopeful, to shocked, and the beginnings of anger. “I’m you.”

“I know,” Ben said, hating the way his lips actually trembled at the admission. “You’re a fucking disappointment.”

He grabbed at Homelander’s face, tilting his laser eyes back. Butcher and Maeve came up on either side to secure the supe, but Ryan protested.

“Ryan, get out of the building, now!” Butcher told him. Still, the kid pushed back to try and help his father.

Helena broke away from M.M. and Annie in their shock to go to Ryan, but M.M. reacted at the last second to grab her arm.

“Let go of me!” she whipped back. M.M. stared down at her incredulously. She was human, the same as him, but unlike him, she wasn’t a fighter. She didn’t even have a weapon on her, let alone one that would work on Homelander or Soldier Boy.

“Are you crazy?!” he asked.

“Are you?” she retorted. She twisted out of his grip and managed to slip away from him.

By the time Helena turned back to the scene before them, Ryan’s eyes were glowing red.

He shot a laser beam right at Soldier Boy, knocking him through the far wall and onto his ass. When he got up, shaking rubble from his shoulders, he clearly wasn’t happy about it.

Fortunately, Helena reached Ryan just as Ben took a few intimidating steps forward.

“Ben, stop!” she shouted.

And it actually halted the supe’s steps. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pulled into a frown. His gait was tense, but she held her ground with her arms wrapped around Ryan. The boy’s fear made his eyes dim back to their normal hue as he glanced up at her, and then back at Soldier Boy. She was able to slowly tug Ryan behind her.

“Please, don’t hurt him,” she said. Her tone was pleading, a hint unsteady. If he really wanted to get to Ryan, he’d have to go through her first.

Ben knew it…and found himself conflicted.

Meanwhile, Butcher had been mostly distracted with trying to help Maeve (and now Annie) keep Homelander held down. Now, he realized just how much this was all about to cost him. His eyes widened when he saw Soldier Boy’s threatening stance.

“Helena!” he called out, just before Homelander broke free. He punched Butcher down with a crack against his face. V24 was coursing through the man’s veins, allowing him to take the hit and deliver one right back.

“Scorched earth, eh William?” Homelander taunted. His red-hot gaze glanced in Helena’s direction. Butcher sneered and landed a blow right between the supe’s eyes.

Helena and Ben shared one last look.

Finally, he relented. He turned away with a surly frown, jumping back into the fray with Homelander. That was his real target, and she was grateful, blowing out a relieved breath before she turned back to face Ryan.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked.

She set her hands on his shoulders. “That’s my line, bud. Come on, let’s go.”

He resisted when she tried to pull him away from the warzone happening far too close for comfort, in an office that was not meant to contain a whole five-on-one super battle.

“No!” Ryan refused to move, shirking her grasp. “Homelander…he’s my dad. He cares about me.”

Helena let out a shaky breath. She laid more gentle hands on his arms.

“Ryan, he’s using you,” she said. “Whatever he told you, maybe he believed it…but I doubt he’s truly capable of caring about anyone but himself.”

“No, that’s…that’s not true,” Ryan shook his head in protest. When he pulled away from her, she tried to hold onto him a bit tighter so he wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire of the battle. M.M. saw them both and was trying to get around the danger zone himself to help them, but Ryan wasn’t helping Helena at all.

In fact, he broke away from her with such strength, he actually pushed her to the ground. She gasped at the impact when she fell. Not just at the shock of it, but at the pain; it disrupted her still broken ribs…which she’d ironically gotten when Homelander shoved her into a wall back at Herogasm.

Fuck, she sucked in a pained breath. She also saw the shock and dismay cross Ryan’s face. He hadn’t meant to push her that hard, to hurt her. She knew it when she saw that look.

She held up a hand to him, “It’s okay. I’m okay—”

But in his guilt, Ryan backed away from her. He bolted out of the enclosed office and towards the rest of the fight that had finally moved into the other room.

“Ryan!” Helena called, even as he was escaping her. With difficulty, she got back onto her feet.

She was startled half out of her skin when Ben was flung into a nearby wall, making her scream and duck for cover as debris and office supplies exploded as a result. She took another painful spill across the floor. And rolling out of her inside pocket of her jacket came a small, green vial of V24.

Her eyes zeroed in, just before her hand closed around it. She dragged herself off the floor and back onto her feet, and then towards Ben, who was growling and shaking the dust off. He was prepared to head back into the fray, where the rest of them were still fighting Homelander. Ryan was hovering at the edge, scared and worried, no matter who got punched or tossed.

That’s it, Helena thought. Fuck it all.

“Ben,” she said raggedly, earning his attention. “Can you do me a favor?”

She went to him and offered him the tail end of a syringe she’d been storing in her other pocket. It was a miracle that it hadn’t broken in her tumbles.

“Out of the fucking way,” he barked, after he eyed her in irritation. Clearly, I’m busy, his face suggested.

She took one of the biggest chances of her life and grabbed his arm.

“Please! I need your help,” she said.

He looked down at her through furrowed brows, asking a silent question with his eyes. Why me?

Her hand was shaking. She really just couldn’t bring herself to inject her body full of poison…but she had to.

“I don’t want to be anyone’s weakness. I don’t want to be collateral damage,” she said. “But more than anything, I’m sick of being afraid.”

She grabbed his hand and put both the vial and the syringe in it.

“Goddamn it, Ben, just do it!” she said, through tears.

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed her arm, found a vein, and did his best to inject her correctly. But when that vile shit hit her system, she nearly collapsed.

“Fuck,” he muttered, but he kept her upright. She shuddered, her eyes briefly closing. All the while, Ben’s grip remained steady. Inside, however, he didn’t know why the fuck he was doing this.

It felt too close to being soft. But maybe it was because a part of him, deep down (a part he didn’t want to think about), wanted to prove he was still some kind of hero. Or maybe, it was because he felt like he was repaying a debt.

When the pain subsided, her body hummed with chemical electricity in her blood. She breathed through it and nodded.

“Thank you,” she said. After a short hesitation, his hands fell from her. Ben responded with a nod.

He turned on his heel and was about to head back into the battle fray, but was hit with a star bolt. It pushed him back a few feet but didn’t bring him down. His head snapped up with annoyance. Helena looked over with wider eyes to find Annie, now joined by Frenchie, Kimiko, Hughie. M.M. sideswiped Helena, forcing her out of the way while Kimiko and Annie surged forward against Ben.

With the temporary V coursing through her veins, Helena was finally strong enough to push back against M.M., making him stumble. He stared back at you in surprise.

“Are you on V?” he asked. “Did you just shoot the fuck up?”

Her lips pursed. She couldn’t deny it, nor would she.

“You know it’s fatal after a few doses, right?” he said tersely.

Helena’s eyes widened. She looked over at Butcher, who was still fighting Homelander and taking hot lasers to the arm, blocking his face.

She didn’t know how many doses he’d taken, but she could hazard a guess.

Too many.

Ben startled them both by tossing both Annie and Kimiko at opposite ends of the room. He stalked forward, ignoring her and M.M. in order to get to Homelander.

M.M. tensed up, like he was about to follow the supe, but Helena grabbed his arm.

“Look, I know what he did to you, but let him at least end Homelander, for fuck’s sake!” she snapped.

“Do you want the entire building to blow the fuck up?” he shot back. He gestured over at Ryan, still huddled against the wall. “Try to get him out of here first!”

On that, they could agree.

Just then, Homelander tore through the room with his laser vision, regardless of who or what he hit. When the beam swept across the middle and went for Ryan on the other side, Helena ran to him and had them both dive for the ground. She protected his head.

Meanwhile, Butcher grabbed the supe by the cape in attempt to bring him to heel. Ben came up on the other side and pinned him down to the ground while Homelander fought both of their holds.

Ryan turned onto his side after Helena raised off of him. He looked up at her with wide eyes, but there was guilt behind them, lingering from when he pushed her.

“Why…why are you and Butcher here? Why do you hate my dad?” he asked. His voice was so small and upset, it made tears well up in Helena’s eyes.

“I’m here because I care about you,” she said. “Homelander’s not your father. Not really. He’s the reason you and your mom were alone for all those years. He’s the reason she couldn’t be with Billy, and why you had to grow up alone. Your mom was protecting you from him.”

Tears stung at Ryan’s eyes as well. He bit his lip and shook his head; he didn’t want to believe her.

“You’re wrong,” he said tremulously. “He’s…he’s not mad at me for what happened to Mom. For…”

Helena had to try and swallow past a tight ball of emotion. She was about to respond when an iron grip tangled in her hair and grabbed her up. A shriek tore from her throat as she was yanked to her feet and almost off the ground. Her hands flew up to claw at Homelander’s.

Ryan’s eyes flew wide again. He scrambled onto his feet as well and faced his father.

“Stop!” he pleaded. “Don’t hurt her!”

Homelander tilted his head at his son, with a grim set to his face. “Don’t you see? They’re all cockroaches. They’re mud people. Ryan, they’re not like us.”

V24 didn’t take away her fear, Helena realized. It just magnified what was already inside.

“Leave him alone, you son of a bitch,” she hissed, regardless of the terrified, angry tears burning in her eyes.

Across the room, M.M. stared down at Butcher angrily. It was hard to maintain it when the other man had just saved him from getting pounded with Soldier Boy’s shield, but M.M. had a high threshold of “Fuck you, Butcher” leftover.

Despite that, M.M. helped Butcher pick himself up from the rubble. Then he noticed something else.

“Butcher,” M.M. said sharply. Butcher followed his gaze and landed on Homelander; he saw the supe’s killer grip on Helena’s hair, with Ryan pleading at him to stop.

Butcher’s eyes widened. He called her name from across the room.

Slowly Homelander’s head turned.

He smirked. The kind of manic smile that said he’d get to have his revenge twice.

His eyes took on a red, glowing hue.

But a violet haze surged from Helena’s hands, not only disrupting Homelander’s concentration, but forcing him to let go of her entirely. It was a forcefield that threw him back across the far wall.

She stumbled to her feet and would’ve fallen if Ryan hadn’t reached out to steady her. She gave him a grateful smile, and she let her arm fall around his shoulders.

Butcher was shocked, relieved, and angry all at once.

When and how the fuck did she take Temp V?

Despite the look of surprise on most faces in the room, Ben was the only one who remained stoic.

Homelander peeled himself from the wall with a growl. He stalked forward, but he was met with Butcher stepping in front of Helena and Ryan.

Butcher blocked the first punch Homelander threw. He just couldn’t avoid the second brutal one that cracked against his nose. Homelander twisted his arm and wrenched, until Butcher was forced almost to his knees.

“You may be hopped up, but you’re just a try-hard, dick-sucking groupie,” Homelander taunted. “Real power is—”

Ryan stumbled forward and pushed Homelander hard in the chest, enough to make the other man’s grip on Butcher loosen. Ryan moved to stand in front of Butcher and Helena.

“Son?” Homelander asked, with wide, confused eyes.

All the commotion in the room paused. Even the fight against Soldier Boy came to a standstill, including Maeve, who was sporting one eye and a bloody hole where the other used to be (courtesy of Homelander). She propped herself up against the wall and watched Homelander intently.

Soldier Boy watched as well. If he lit up the nuclear power in his chest now, he could make Homelander powerless. But…it would be hard to control it in here. He glanced at Butcher and Helena kneeling on the ground. She’d come to his side and was propping him up, just as his arm was around her protectively.

I don’t want to be collateral damage, she’d said.

Meanwhile, Ryan was scared with tears in his eyes, but he held his ground against his father with determination.

“Stop,” he said. “Please just stop.”

Homelander couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His own son was protecting the one man he hated most in this world.

“But…why?” he asked incredulously. “I’m your blood. I’m…I’m your family.”

Butcher grabbed Ryan’s jacket.

“Ryan, don’t,” he said. Ryan looked over his shoulder at them, at Butcher.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Butcher didn’t entirely know what that meant, but he couldn’t help but marvel when the kid turned back to face his father.

“I understand you, Ryan. Better than anyone,” Homelander said earnestly. He probably even believed that.

Ryan lip wobbled with emotion. He hadn’t realized it, not until Homelander grabbed Helena and threatened to kill one of the only people who’d ever been nice to him. Ryan saw it when Homelander had turned to Butcher next, with something evil in his eyes.

“You’ve hurt everyone I care about,” Ryan realized, with a small gasp of a sob. “You…you hurt my mom.”

Homelander’s eyes soon became glassy, angry, and insane.

“I think you took the fucking cake on that one, sport,” he retorted.

Ryan flinched. Tears poured down Ryan’s cheeks as that blow cut into him.

But he instinctively let those emotions fuel him. He hovered above the ground in flight, almost eye-level with Homelander. His eyes glowed red.

Homelander smirked through unshed tears. He supposed it was fine; he’d been prepared to rule through fear before.

You don’t need anyone, that voice deep inside whispered. Not even Ryan.

And here, Ben finally saw his chance.

“Hey, Real Power,” he snarked, just before he grabbed Homelander by the edge of his cape and headbutted him. After throwing him off balance, Ben kicked him into a glass coffee table, making it shatter. He continued forward and grabbed Homelander by his collar next.

Then he began to charge up that nuclear power in his chest. Homelander grabbed his arm and tried to twist out of his grip, but Ben held on in determination. Maeve helped him by kicking out Homelander’s knee. She and Ben briefly shared a grim look.

“We could’ve taken on the whole world,” Homelander gritted out. Ben smirked.

“Maybe. But I never took well to sharing the spotlight,” he said, and threw another punch that snapped Homelander’s head back. All the while, his chest continued to illuminate and become impossibly hot.

If Ben let go of his power now, he could end Homelander for good. But if he did, he’d probably level the whole block. He glanced over Homelander’s shoulder. Butcher held both Helena and Ryan, waiting to protect them from the impending blast.

Butcher kept Helena close with an arm around her waist. Deep down, Ben reluctantly felt a twinge of jealousy. Until Helena peeked up fearfully and found Ben’s eyes. Even with the power V24 gave her, he doubted it would do them much good.

With that brief distraction, Homelander broke free with an angry shout.

“Goddamn it,” Ben growled.

While the other supe tried to fly backwards to save himself, Ben rushed forward and leapt, grabbing the supe in mid-air. They both crashed through the far window out of the Tower.

Ben blasted him with everything he had.

Homelander tried to fight off his hanger on, but the power behind the blast disrupted his own, including his flight.

And from that great height, Soldier Boy and Homelander fell. Whatever wasn’t contained by the two of them grappling hit the rest of the Tower behind them.

Inside the building, Helena managed to draw up a forcefield that protected them all from the initial blast. Whatever she couldn’t cover was eaten away, leaving a giant hole in the side of the building. Butcher looked up at the violet haze, then at her with consternation.

“Oh, don’t even,” she snapped at him. “One dose of Temp V won’t kill me.”

His lips pursed, but he still helped her up to her feet, along with Ryan. Helena checked the boy to make sure he was all right. She brought her hands up to his cheeks and held his face.

“You okay?” she asked.

Ryan smiled a little a nodded. “Yeah.”

She smiled back. “Good.”

Butcher’s lips twitched. He laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, but he also moved a hand down to the small of Helena’s back, earning her attention. For a moment, their eyes met. That look was charged with unspoken meaning, cutting through things like, “I told you so,” and “What were you thinking?” And, “You ass.”

But the common denominator of it all was this.

Butcher tugged her close for a hard kiss. His beard was rough, his grip was tight, but his lips were tender. She responded in kind, gripping the shorter hair at the back of his head and matching his passion with her own.

He pulled away after a moment, meeting her eyes with a silent request. She held his cheek, and she nodded. Later they would hash the rest of this out, but for now, this was enough.

Butcher then turned to Ryan and took a knee in front of him.

“You don’t hate me anymore?” Ryan asked, in a small voice.

Butcher sighed, wiping a hand over his tired face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “for what I said last time. What happened to Becca, to your mum…it ain’t your fault, son.”

Ryan’s eyes glistened with tears. He sniffed, and Butcher squeezed his shoulder.

“Look, kid. I’m not a good man. Christ, you’re already a better one than me. But, as long as you want me around…I’m here for ya.”

Ryan hugged him. Butcher was surprised by it at first, but slowly, he let himself hug Ryan back.

Helena teared up and laid a gentle hand on Butcher’s back. Hughie even came up on her left to nudge her shoulder. She smiled and patted his arm back. The others, though battered, bruised, and in some cases bloody, had gotten back on their feet.

“Butcher, we gotta go,” M.M. reminded him. “Homelander and Soldier Boy damn dear exploded the block down there.”

Homelander’s crash landing had created a crater inside the ground outside of Vought Tower. Coils of smoke came off of his body, as most of his uniform was burnt off, along with a good part of his neck and torso.

Butcher stood over him, creating a shadow that Homelander couldn’t escape. Homelander opened his eyes wide, as if to laser him, but nothing came out.

His eyes widened in shock this time. “What the fuck…”

He crawled out of the crater, his uniform in tatters. He managed to stumble to his feet and throw a punch at Butcher, who easily dodged.

The blast had done its job. Homelander was a powerless mess. That realization dawned on the man, and soon had him frothing at the mouth in disbelief. Butcher pulled out a gun from his belt, a formerly useless gun, and shot Homelander in the head. Right between the eyes.

Homelander’s body fell to the ground, just as Helena came out of the building with Ryan. With a gasp, she shielded the boy’s eyes.

“Don’t look,” she told him. Ryan allowed himself to bury his face against her chest, biting his lip as a few tears escaped and soaked into her shirt.

Grace Mallory showed up minutes later with two SUVs of CIA agents for the cleanup—not only to set a perimeter around the crater, but to take Homelander’s body. Helena had Mallory steer Ryan away, though she promised to check on him soon.

Helena was going to join where Butcher, M.M., and the rest of them had gathered next, but she noticed something. There were drops of blood leading away from the crater, into a nearby alley.

With suspicion churning in her gut, she followed the trail into the alley. By now it was still dark outside, even with the sun starting to peek out from between the city skyscrapers. The deeper part of the alley was still cast in darkness.

A hand shot out and grabbed her by the waist, at the same time another covered her mouth. She gasped and was about to scream, when she came face to face with Ben. He shushed her.

She frowned at him with furrowed brows.

“Ben?! What the hell?” she hissed between his fingers and tried to pry them off. He eventually let her go. He still had a supe’s strength, so she could assume that the blast had only taken away Homelander’s powers, not Ben’s.

“What are you doing?” she asked, both incredulous and annoyed. “Are you okay?”

He gave you an amused smirk. “I’m fine.”

He hadn’t been sure what she would do when she saw him. Ask about his wellbeing wasn’t it, but it had smugness welling up in his chest. It seemed like she didn’t hate him too much after all.

“I know all about the Mob Squad’s genius plan to gas me up and stuff me in a goddamn box,” he said, less pleasantly. “That’s not fucking happening.”

Helena’s lips pursed. “So what are you going to do?”

Maybe she didn’t want to see him in a box either, and maybe he’d just done the entire world a solid by taking out Homelander, but that didn’t mean Ben wasn’t dangerous all on his own.

“I’m taking my well-earned vacation,” he said. His smirk deepened. “But two tickets to paradise could be arranged.”

Helena sighed with a smile, shaking her head.

“I don’t think so, Ben,” she said, though she tilted her head at him. “You could be a real hero, you know. If you did the work.”

He stared down at her for a moment. He eventually quirked a grin.

“A lot of your friends would call that a lost cause,” he said.

“Prove your father wrong. Prove me right,” she said, raising a brow. “I dare you.”

“Hmm,” Ben said. He considered her as his smirk softened slightly, into a more sincere smile.

Instead of answering her, he slid a hand around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She gasped and held onto his arms on reflex. It gave him the opening he needed to steal a kiss.

Helena was too shocked to heed her first instinct, which was to slap him in the face.

He soon pulled away, giving her another familiar smirk at her angry, blushing face.

But after he stroked her cheek and finally let go of her, she realized that this was a goodbye.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart,” said Ben.

He backed away from her, deeper into the darkness of the alley. She couldn’t see him well, just the outline of his broad form, but she thought she heard the last bit of his voice.

“Goodbye, Helena.”

And then he was gone.

AN: Sigh. Thus ends Homelander, son of no one. How did you like Ben and Helena's goodbye? 😂

We're at the end, folks.

Next Time:

When his gaze found hers, they didn’t need words.

They were home.

His head bowed to greet Helena with a kiss, languid and unhurried.

His hand moved under the sheets to slip under her silky top, splaying across her lower back. Her arm twined around his neck in turn, her fingers slipping into his dark hair. Hers was already wild this morning; it both tickled his arm and fanned across her pillow.

She nipped his bottom lip and earned a pleased sound from him, deep in his throat. But before he could roll her onto her back, they heard quick footsteps coming up the stairs.

Butcher groaned, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder. But a smile twitched at his mouth.

“Incoming,” he muttered.

Keep Reading: Epilogue

The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Tag List:

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ozwriterchick · 8 months ago

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I have an idea for a Spencer Reid fic. I don’t think I can do him justice writing it.

Secret relationship trope. If you think you could write it let me know and I’ll give more detail…

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #Spencer Reid x ofc #secret relationship #fic idea #I don’t want to butcher it so I won’t write it #help please

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burntsaltsblog · 8 months ago

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mdni// smut under the cut

i just know sucking him off is a fucking experience. like you’d be kneeling for hours, feeling the bruises set in as he holds the back of your head, fucking your mouth.

his tip would graze the top of your throat, and you’d begin choking as tears welled in your eyes, but then you’d moan softly and butcher would pause his quick thrusts.

he’d raise a brow. “y’want my cock in your throat, eh?”

you’d close your eyes and nod before looking back up at him pleadingly.

“alright, love. put ya’ hands there, yeah?” he’d say, guiding your hands with his larger calloused ones to grip the back of his toned thighs.

“you hang on tight while daddy fucks your throat.”

#billy butcher #the boys billy butcher #billy butcher the boys #billy butcher x reader smut #billy butcher smut #billy butcher x ofc #billy butcher x you #billy butcher fic #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher imagine #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys season 4 #the boys tv

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odilelajolie · 6 months ago

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Hunted, Ch. 2: Dream A Little Dream of Me (18+)

Alice misses Cooper. Cooper misses his little girl even more.

Perhaps she should have found it disturbing, just how quickly the mysterious man from Tuesday night seemed to consume her thoughts at every level of consciousness, from the hyperactive peaks of wakefulness all the way down to the quietest depths of slumber.

Call me Cooper.

He’d spent barely an hour at the diner, and yet he was all Alice could think about when she returned home to her tiny apartment well after midnight—giggling. And twirling. When she finally settled down enough to sleep after a long shower, she’d dreamt about him in a series of innocent, nonlinear fancies, all involving shamelessly basking in Cooper’s undivided attention. To be looked at by Cooper, to be talked to by Cooper—to have Cooper smile at her—was the kind of benevolent, life-affirming regard so bright and balmy it was like he was the sun beaming down on her bare skin. He was a knight in truly shining armor, rescuing her from the cold darkness of the lonely shadows she called home.

Alice couldn’t wait until she saw him again.

Excellent recommendation, sweetheart—

She replayed their short dialogue on a near endless loop as she ran errands the following day, blushing each time she returned to the moment he called her sweetheart. His deep, stimulating voice reverberated in her ears so powerfully she actually shivered in pleasure, right in the middle of the check-out line at the grocery store.

Alice was in such a good mood daydreaming about Cooper that she barely even noticed the hushed whispers of what the hell is wrong with her now? and looks like crazy girl is about to have another nervous fucking breakdown.

There were so many things she wished she’d asked him, and Alice promised herself that the next time he came into the diner, she would be brave and get to know him a bit better. Maybe she’d even personally treat him to his next meal as a thank-you. He’d left her a thirty-dollar tip on his twenty-dollar tab, and while Alice appreciated his generosity, she wanted to prove to him that his attention was infinitely more meaningful to her than his money.

But Wednesday came and went, followed by Thursday, with absolutely no sign of the captivating newcomer. He was nowhere to be seen around town, nor did he make any appearances at the diner. Alice waited on her tables like she always did—docile and silent, while pretending she was invisible—and as she gazed longingly at the door during those slow hours of emptiness before closing, she began to question if she ever would see him again.

By Friday night, Alice was anxious.

By Saturday night, Alice was crushed.

As she dejectedly restocked the beverage station next to the bar just after eleven, all hope of seeing Cooper walking through the door officially lost, Alice was forced to accept the strong possibility that she’d let her overactive imagination get carried away.

She was crazy, after all. And the whole town knew it.

Cooper was just a friendly tourist passing through, likely a hiker on his way to the nearby national forest given his obvious athleticism, and Alice had unhealthily clung to the idea of him out of sheer desperation for someone—anyone—to acknowledge her existence as more than just the town lunatic. A man as handsome and kind as Cooper probably even had a family waiting for him in one of the big cities, like Boston or New York or Philadelphia. He probably had a beautiful, perfect wife and beautiful, perfect children, and a myriad of beautiful, perfect friends.

One thing was certain—their short interaction had meant far more to Alice than it had meant to Cooper.

He’d likely already forgotten all about her the second he walked out the door on Tuesday—

“Why do you look like you’re about to cry, sweetheart?”

Startled by the intrusion, Alice jumped several feet back with a high shriek, but her heart rate instantly began to settle when her eyes finally landed on the very object of her inapt hopefulness.

“Hey…easy there, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Cooper intoned tenderly, slowly raising his huge hands as if attempting to calm an untamed, fearful mare. Gesturing to his broad torso, he added, “I was just here the other night. Cooper. Don’t you remember me? I ordered the deluxe cheeseburger you recommended…”

For several seconds, Alice was paralyzed from her vocal box all the way to her feet, the gears in her mind stuck somewhere between humiliation and delight. But soon, her joy and relief at seeing Cooper again obliterated her sense of embarrassment—even her sense of shame—and it wasn’t long before she was grinning and nodding like a bobblehead.

“Of c-course I remember you!” Alice squeaked, dizzy with happiness. She was so excited she couldn’t remain still, her entire body vibrating as she reflexively shifted her weight onto her toes, down, and up again, almost as if she were back in a pair of pointe shoes. “H-Hi! You’re…you’re back!”

“Well I couldn’t stay away from my new favorite restaurant.” Cooper took a few languid steps closer and leaned against the bar counter. “Or my new favorite waitress.”

He winked at her, and Alice giggled, blushing so intensely she grew even more lightheaded from the sudden rush of blood circulating through her cheeks.

“I bet you say that to everyone who serves you,” Alice remarked sheepishly. Cooper shook his head, his dark gaze unblinking. “Just you, sweet girl.”

Alice’s heart fluttered.

She liked hearing him call her sweet girl even more than when he called her sweetheart.

“Am I too late to grab a bite?” Cooper prompted when Alice once more forgot her words, not to mention her job—too dazzled by the sight of him. “I tried to get here sooner, but work kind of got away from me.”

Alice moistened her lips and wiped her palms on her apron. “Absolutely—you can have any table you’d like!”

“Can I sit right here?” Cooper asked, already deftly easing his large body onto the nearest bar chair. “I know you can’t go behind the bar, but clearly you’re allowed to be next to it.”

Alice darted to the host stand for a menu and presented it to Cooper, and reached into her pocket for her notepad and pen. “Here is perfect. Do you know what you’d like to dri—”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You were just on the verge of tears,” Cooper clarified. “I called out to you when I walked in, but I don’t think you heard me. Is everything okay?”

Something…flickered in his impossibly dark eyes, like a shooting star reflecting upon still nighttime water.

Or perhaps a strike of lightning.

“I…umm…”

“You can tell me, Alice,” he murmured lowly. “You can tell me anything.”

Alice nervously shifted from side to side, but was spurred into action by his gentle words. His warmth.

“Umm…you’re going to think it’s stupid. Or crazy, probably—”

“Tell me.”

Before she could cower and hide in a last ditch attempt to preserve what little remained of her dignity, Cooper softly placed his hand on her chin, keeping her gaze focused on him in a gentle snare.

There was nowhere for her to escape.

“Tell me why you were about to cry.”

His voice, rich and dark and velvety smooth, seemed to settle over her body like a hypnotic, drugging her into suggestion with ease. Cooper was simply irresistible, and Alice found herself confessing the humiliating truth before she could even think to stop herself.

“I really missed you,” she whispered meekly. “People…people around here don’t like me very much—they think I’m…they think I’m…umm…weird—and you…you were so nice, and you talked to me…nobody talks to me, and…I was really hoping to see you again, but then you didn’t come back, and I wasn’t sure…oh God, what have I done…”

Alice took several slow steps backward, horrified with herself.

She sounded just as crazy as everyone said she was. More than crazy.

She sounded obsessed.

Cooper stared at her in silence, an inscrutable expression on his face. Alice rocked onto her heels, clutching her notepad for dear life as she anxiously waited for him to storm off and leave.

Or, perhaps even call the police.

Instead, he extended his long arm on a slow exhale and plucked her notepad and pen right out of her sweaty palm, and Alice’s jaw fell open as he rapidly wrote something onto the pad, and returned it to her.

“What…what is this?” Alice asked, dumbly.

“That’s my cell phone number,” Cooper answered with a smile before Alice could even process the meaning of the ten orderly digits in front of her. “So if you miss me, if you want to see me, or even if you just want to talk—all you have to do is tell me…and I’ll be right there for you, sweet girl.”

It was far easier tonight to persuade his sweet little Alice to abandon her side work entirely, and focus entirely on him. By keeping his distance this week after giving her a small taste of the attention she so desperately craved—thereby provoking the tender girl’s pronounced fear of abandonment—he’d succeeded in breaking down what minimal defenses she had left for protecting herself.

Her loneliness made her anxious, her anxiousness made her needy, and her neediness made her pliable—complete putty in his hands.

He wasn’t looking forward to repeating the behavior—he truly didn’t want his little girl to ever question just how much she meant to him—but it was a necessary manipulation, at least for now, to secure her devotion long-term.

Cooper needed to make an addict out of Alice, to make his pretty little girl depend on her Daddy just as much as he already depended on her—his sweet little narcotic. To guarantee Alice’s lasting attachment, he had to expose the innocent girl to what she wanted most, and then take it away, before giving it back to her in constant, progressively stronger doses until she was so blissed out on his love and adoration she’d never even think about looking elsewhere for her needs.

With her natural sweetness and excitability, Alice’s little side was undeniable, though the exact developmental stage she regressed to was a bit more difficult to determine. Regardless, Alice was a very…young eighteen, her highest education a GED, her worldliness limited to the boundaries of this forgotten New England town inhabited by only a few thousand people.

Soon, he would be her entire world—

“I had to make this myself—Ted is already closing down the kitchen, but I’ve made this before, I promise—all of the ingredients and portions are written down,” Alice said in a timid rush as she shakily placed his dinner order on the bar counter. “I really hope you like it.”

Alice’s laughable attempt at preparing a harvest salad was almost as unappetizing as the cheeseburger he’d ordered on Tuesday—and Cooper already had the low-bar bias of not only being a former fireman, but also a fugitive, more than accustomed to eating cheap garbage when pressed for time and circumstance. But his little girl had clearly tried so hard to make his dinner tonight, putting her best effort in a role that was unfamiliar to her, and Cooper would not crush her spirit with criticism.

He’d denied her—and himself, really—affection all week, which meant tonight was not a night for withholding.

Cooper would give his little girl all of the praise she craved, until they were both satisfied.

“Oh, this looks delicious, Alice,” Cooper complimented with enthusiasm. “And is that…wow! You added tri-tip, too? What a treat.”

The meat was much closer to well-done than Cooper would have preferred, but it looked edible enough.

“It normally comes with grilled chicken breast, but I thought you might enjoy the beef upgrade,” Alice replied brightly. “Since you’re…umm…you’re so…umm…so…”

Alice’s shyness, combined with her complete lack of a filter, was one of the most adorable things about her. When she felt comfortable enough to actually use her cute honeyed voice, his little girl said exactly what was on her mind.

“Since I’m what?” Cooper asked innocently. He could easily deduce just where her thoughts were headed, but he wanted to hear her say it.

Alice chewed her lower lip, her long eyelashes fluttering. “Since you’re…so…muscular. Big muscles like yours need lots of protein, right?”

It was the first outright commentary she’d made about his appearance, though he’d certainly followed the direction of her girlish gaze on his body when she thought she was being discreet. Alice may have been profoundly inexperienced, but she still had the hormones of an eighteen-year-old girl, which meant her nubile body was craving sex—whether she realized it or not.

Alice’s eyes widened and appeared slightly glassy as her gaze briefly slipped below his neck—was she looking at his pecs?—pupils dilating like a wobbly kitten on her first hunt.

Good girl.

Always keep those pretty eyes on Daddy—

“Well not just the protein—I need the veggies too,” Cooper said on a chuckle, startling the adorably distracted little girl. “It takes a lot more effort to stay fit at my age. My metabolism isn’t quite what it used to be.”

Cooper had been well aware of his physical appeal ever since he hit puberty, and had diligently maintained it ever since due to the fallacy of human nature to associate attractiveness with trustworthiness. Or even more laughably, safety. He may have been a monster, but that wasn’t what people saw when they looked at him. Instead, they saw height. A strong build. A symmetrical face.

And while Cooper was personally ambivalent about his looks, he fully intended to use any and every physical advantage in his arsenal in order to seduce Alice. She was already highly affected by him, her body language and nonverbal cues revealing far more than her words.

He was willing to bet that he could drop his voice, call her a good girl, and tell her to take off her panties and hop up on the counter so that he could bury his tongue in her sweet little cunt for dessert, and his timid little Alice would immediately obey.

Whether she truly wanted to or not.

“Umm…I was wondering…how old are you?” Alice asked as he speared a large serving of mixed greens, sweet potato, apple, and beef onto his fork. He took the bite and was relieved to find the salad tasted much better than it looked, but what he truly savored was the way Alice squirmed as she visibly second-guessed her question, wondering if she’d offended him.

Cooper swallowed and smiled.

He’d give her the truth for this one.“Forty-six.”

Alice didn’t react in any significant way—no surprise or revulsion—confirming that whatever guess she may have been harboring must have been fairly close to his actual age.

She already knew he had decades over her. Knew he was old enough to be her father.

And she was unbothered.

“And do you…umm��if it’s okay to ask—do you…are you married? Do you have a family?”

Cooper had been anticipating this question, and had long rehearsed his response.

With muted affectation, he lowered his head and paused all movements, his fork hovering above the salad in static suspension as he assumed a faraway look.

He needed to appear somber.

He could see Alice fidgeting in his peripherals, her panic over his sudden despondency growing more overt by the moment, so he held the pose a few seconds longer before putting her out of her misery.

“I’m a widower,” Cooper answered quietly. “And…I’m no longer a father.” Alice gasped, her delicate face softening with sympathy. “My family…they were in a car accident several years ago.”

“Oh, Cooper, I—I’m so sorry.” Alice placed her tiny hand on his shoulder, and Cooper had to tighten his jaw to keep himself from grabbing her and pulling her into his lap—right where she belonged. “I know there’s nothing I can say to make you feel better, but please know…I’m…I’m so sorry…”

Cooper turned towards her while slowly covering her hand on his shoulder with his grasp, marveling at the smoothness of her skin. The way her small fingers completely disappeared beneath his palm.

How easy it would be to gather both of her hands in just one of his, bruising her fragile little wrists as he pinned her down and fucked her hard from behind—

“…and I know we don’t know each other very well, but…is there…is there anything you need?” Alice asked, her delicate voice practically bleeding compassion. “Anything I can do to for you?”

You can spread your legs and let Daddy inside your pussy, baby girl—

Cooper cleared his throat and took a sip of iced tea to cool off. “That’s very kind of you to offer, but you’re already doing plenty—just by being yourself. I’m new here, and I don’t really know anyone…honestly, you’ve been the highlight of my entire week.”

Alice gazed up at him with hopeful eyes.“R-really?”

Such a needy baby girl—

“Really,” Cooper affirmed. “Thank you, Alice. For your sympathy. And for your company. It means a lot to a lonely old man like me.”

He gave her hand a final longing squeeze before continuing to eat his dinner, and the two fell into a companionable silence, sharing secret smiles every time they made eye contact.

“So…you said you’re new here,” the girl mentioned tentatively as she refilled his glass once he’d emptied his plate. “Does that mean…you’re here to…to stay?”

Cooper carefully wiped the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin before responding. He was pleased that she was continuing to ask personal questions. Not only did it mean she was curious, but it also meant she was getting comfortable around him.

Familiar.

“I am,” Cooper confirmed. “After…everything…I thought it was about time for a change of scenery. Some peace and quiet. I recently closed on a nice forest property about thirty minutes north of here.”

“That sounds wonderful—congratulations on your new home!” Alice chirped. “Are you already all moved in?”

“I still have a few dozen boxes to unpack, but yeah,” Cooper replied. “I get to those in-between work calls as best as I can.”

“What do you do for work?” Alice asked.

This was the part of the narrative Cooper had needed to embellish the most. Alice was painfully gullible—but she wasn’t stupid. Anyone would be suspicious of the luxury SUV he was driving and six-bedroom home he was currently living in if he said he was a former firefighter.

“I was an emergency physician in Boston,” Cooper answered.

It was a logical fake job—he possessed a well-above average understanding of the human body.

Particularly the human body under trauma.

Cooper continued, “But now, I work part-time from home with a small network of private hospitals and concierge practices providing telehealth services for patients with non-emergency medical needs.”

Alice’s eyes widened, but not with the wonderment he was anticipating. He’d expected her to be impressed by his story, but strangely, Alice seemed more and more nervous by the moment.

“Wow—so you must be…you must be super smart,” she eventually said in a small voice.

It dawned on him that his fake credentials likely made Alice feel insecure about her own limited education, so Cooper shook his head and released a self-deprecating laugh to put her at ease. “When it comes to medicine, sure. But that’s about it. I’m a simple man, really. I couldn’t help you if you were to ask me about something like…oh, I don’t know…” Cooper paused for a few moments and brought his hand to his chin, feigning consideration. “Literature. Art. Classical music.”

Alice immediately perked up—just as he knew she would—that irresistible, girlishly cheerful gleam restored in her eyes. “Oh, I could tell you all about those! Especially classical music!”

Of course, Cooper had already learned within days of seeing her for the first time that these were Alice’s areas of interest and strength.

She was an avid reader, visiting the local library every Wednesday at ten a.m. to check out books before she did her grocery shopping, defaulting most often to 19th and early 20th-century British literature. Currently, she was reading Northanger Abbey, though her favorite book of all time was The Hobbit. She typically finished a chapter each day a few hours before her evening shift at the diner, when she’d arrange a little tea party for herself in her apartment.

She was also an amateur artist, and brought a sketchbook and colored pencils to the lakefront park every Sunday at noon to draw wildlife. For the last several weeks, she’d been working on a drawing of a family of white-tailed deer. It was clear she had no formal art instruction, but Cooper found her whimsical doodles to be endearing.

He couldn’t wait to cover the walls of his new home—their home—with pictures she made especially for Daddy.

But the area where his little girl held true mastery was with classical music, and the elite form of athletic art that came with it.

Alice was a ballerina.

“Well I look forward to learning all that I can from you,” Cooper replied sincerely. “Do you play an instrument?”

Alice shook her head, cheeks reddening. “Well, no…but I studied ballet pretty seriously from when I was three up until a couple of years ago. Learning about classical music kind of comes with it.”

“Now that is what I call impressive,” Cooper praised. “What’s your favorite ballet?”

Alice was on the verge of bouncing up and down, the girl was so clearly excited to talk about her favorite thing. “Well it’s definitely a three-way tie between—”

“I’m going home,” a new voice suddenly announced, and Cooper’s spine stiffened, all of his senses electrified to high alert.

Always in the habit of constantly surveying his surroundings, it was a very rare occurrence when Cooper was unable to detect the arrival of a new person. And when it did happen, it…unnerved him.

The fry cook who had snuck up on them like a ghost was probably fifteen or twenty years older than Cooper was, tall with a gangly build, though there was a haggard weariness lining his gray face that made him appear much older. The man stepped fully into the fluorescents, and Cooper noticed that about a third of his face was violently scarred from a poorly-healed chemical burn. He also had a collection of dog tags around his neck.

This man was ex-military.

“It’s okay, Ted, I can lock up,” Alice said timidly to the new arrival, but the cook shook his head. “I have it handled—”

“I lock up,” the man called Ted interrupted gruffly. “Take his plates to the dishwasher. Tell him the diner is closed.”

Alice offered Cooper an apologetic smile before completing her duties as she’d been instructed, briefly disappearing in the kitchens with Ted, who Cooper found himself hating more and more by the moment.

The ways he could dismember and mutilate the intrusive fuck who dared to interrupt his time with his little girl—

“Sorry about that,” Alice said breathlessly when she finally emerged. She’d let her lovely hair down—pretty, pretty girl—and was tying an oversized coat around her tiny waist. “Do you think you might want to come back soon—”

“Don’t I have a bill to pay?”

Alice shook her head with a self-satisfied smile as she reached for a spray bottle and towel, giving a final wipe-down to the countertop where Cooper had been dining. “Tonight’s on me. Your tip last time was way too generous.”

Cooper gritted his teeth and balled his fists in an effort to suppress the spark of rage her little stunt instigated. He reminded himself that Alice wasn’t insulting him on purpose—he highly doubted she possessed a single brat bone within her small body. She didn’t know she’d broken one of his rules, because she didn’t know his rules yet.

As much as he wanted to bend her over his knee, tear off her panties, and beat her ass so hard she wouldn’t be able to sit for weeks without crying in pain, he couldn’t punish her for not yet knowing that Daddy always paid for all expenses. But soon, Alice would learn that it was Daddy’s job to take care of her, and a sweet little girl like her never needed to worry about big things like money, no matter the amount.

“Thank you, Alice,” Cooper forced himself to say.

He shrugged into his jacket and followed her out of the restaurant, standing patiently with his hands in his pockets as Alice demurely fidgeted beneath his gaze.

“I…umm…I guess I’d better head home,” Alice announced with apparent reluctance. “My apartment’s just a quick walk that way.”

“Would you like a ride?” Cooper offered. Her apartment really wasn’t far, but Cooper was highly uncomfortable with her walking alone at night.

It was why he’d been following her on nearly all of her walks since he’d first laid eyes on her, to make sure she always stayed safe.

“I’ll be okay—thank you, Cooper,” Alice twinkled sweetly. “And…I really, really hope to see you again soon.”

They said their goodbyes, and Cooper waited an appropriate amount of time before climbing into his car and picking up Alice’s trail. He followed her unseen as she walked down Main Street, and then turned onto Briar Lane to the dilapidated walk-up at the end of the otherwise deserted road. Killing the headlights, Cooper carefully maneuvered the car off-road, parking behind the dense collection of trees with a direct view of Alice’s third-floor bedroom window.

His heart rate jumpstarted when, right on schedule, her bedroom lights came on exactly four minutes later, and Alice finally stepped into the frame.

Cooper was pleased to see that Alice was back to dreamily twirling around on her toes and smiling. Seeing her Daddy again had clearly put his little girl back in her happy mood.

And Cooper wanted nothing more than to preserve her happiness and innocence, to keep her safely locked up in that bubble of bliss and pleasure forever.

Nothing and no one would ever harm her ever again—so long as she remained under Daddy’s protection.

He watched with interest as Alice reached into her antique dresser to select her pajamas for the night. During the spring and summer months when the weather was warmer, Alice had most often slept in nothing more than a tank top with a cheeky pair of panties. Cooper had certainly enjoyed the sight of her tight body in such skimpy items, but now that winter was fast approaching and the temperatures were plummeting by the hour, he found he also appreciated Alice’s preference for oversized fleece sets with whimsical patterns. Tonight, she picked a baby blue set patterned with ice cream cones and cupcakes.

She couldn’t be more adorable.

Alice disappeared into her bathroom for her nighttime shower, so Cooper took this interruption in his surveillance of his little girl to check in on his surveillance at home. He pulled out his phone and opened the app for the security system, swiping through various camera feeds until he landed on the basement of the guest house.

His captive had barely moved an inch from the position he’d been in when Cooper had last checked the feed, slumped against a far corner of the largely barren room. Granted, the shackles around his ankles and duct-tape binding his wrists prohibited extensive movement—and yes, he was blindfolded—but the man could still easily sniff and fumble his way to the water dish and food bowl Cooper had left for him on the floor the night before.

But apparently, the man had decided to conduct yet another hunger strike, for the food remained untouched.

Cooper pressed the microphone button. “We’ve been over this, buddy. Either you eat on your own, or I’ll force you to eat. What’s it gonna be?”

It had been several weeks since Cooper had shoved a feeding tube down the man’s throat, and while he wasn’t particularly squeamish about the act itself, the subsequent clean-up was a rather inconvenient hassle.

The man slowly raised his head, orienting himself in the general direction of the camera and speaker. “Fuck you, you goddamn psychopath.”

Cooper softly chuckled and closed out of the app, and was pleasantly surprised to find a new text message waiting for him.

Cooper glanced up at Alice’s window, and was instantly taken aback by how breathtaking his little girl was. Her years of ballet training were far more obvious now as she sat wrapped in a towel at the edge of her bed with her toned legs crossed, her posture perfect and elegant from her slender neck all the way down to her lower back.

She was…jumpy as she waited on his reply, chewing her lower lip in anticipation as she crossed and uncrossed her legs, looking between her phone and the direction of her bathroom and back again. He could tell she was debating whether or not to go ahead and take her shower, but his sweet girl was simply too excited to see if he would reply.

Cooper waited for a few more minutes—just let Daddy look at you, sweetheart—but when it became obvious her anxiety was beginning to climb, her brow furrowing with worry, Cooper quickly typed a response and hit send.

#ao3 fanfic #trap 2024 #trap movie #cooper adams smut #cooper adams #the butcher #cooper adams x reader #cooper adams x ofc #cooper adams x original female character #trap film #dark romance #cooper adams trap

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enchantedflameandflower · 8 months ago

Text

Billy Butcher fic! 18+

-Her breath caught in her throat and she had to swallow. The way he looked, standing over her, dark and tall and brooding and wanting, his gaze sweeping across her form as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it away…

“Butcher,” she reached for him, her gaze roaming over his chest, and he kneeled on the bed next to her.

Glimmer 35/?

(You don’t need to have read previous chapters to enjoy this smut!)

Tag List: @2dead2function @secretdreamlandmentality

Thank you for all the love! You're all the best! This takes place during season 3 episode 6 (Herogasm) right before he tells Hughie it's not his blood ;) Oi, Oi! I recommend the watch!

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter (34)

~*~*~

Chapter 35

As Butcher slammed his car door shut he eyed the doorman at the posh uptown high rise warily from across the street. First test, he reckoned.

One last time, he tried to talk himself out of this…but no. This was the best way to get the information they needed. Or at least the quickest way. He didn’t have time for anything else, he needed that address now.

And yeah it had nothing to do with the way he saw her face every night when he closed his eyes.

Butcher strode across the street, holding his breath as the doorman caught his eye, but the old man nodded, grinning. “Long time no see, Butcher,” he barked out in his rough Brooklyn accent.

“Aye,” Butcher gave him his most charming smile, white teeth gleaming. “Well I -“

“That fuckin’ virus goin’ round really knocked me on my ass for a couple weeks,” the doorman continued. “Hope the temporary guy didn’t give you no trouble.”

“Oh, uh aye,” Butcher winked, changing tracks smooth as silk. “S’all good mate. Good to see ya back,” he clapped him on the shoulder.

The man opened the door for Butcher and he nodded in thanks before he made his way across the lobby to the elevator. He punched in the nine digit code that gave Addison access to the top floors and gave a huff of relief when the doors slid open without a beat. Was he surprised? He wasn’t sure… Addison had always kept him on his toes.

The next test was the code for her door. He’d made damn sure when she moved in it always automatically locked no matter what. It was near unbreakable plus it had its own long code to get in.

He pressed the numbers quickly; she would know it was him as soon as she heard the first beep. The door opened and he slipped in letting it close and lock again automatically behind him.

Last test. She didn’t kill him immediately the second he closed her door. But she gave a beleaguered sigh from where she was standing in the kitchen. Fuck, did women take a class to learn how to do that all in the same way?

“What the fuck do you want, Butcher?” she muttered without turning around.

Well could be worse, he thought shrugging to himself, so he went for it. “Need a favor, love.”

Addison paused in the middle of chopping a cucumber, seemed to freeze completely, and for a moment he wondered if she was actually contemplating throwing that knife in her hand at him. Maybe he shoulda taken a hit of that temp V before he came…

“Addi. It’s important. I’ve not got much time,” he argued when she still didn’t answer.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She growled under her breath. “Why the fuck would I help you and don’t ‘love’ me.”

He still hadn’t seen her face, but he could see her clearly in his mind. Blue-grey eyes flaring, her cheeks flushed pink... “Cuz you can’t resist doin’ the right thing, can ya?” he answered with a knowing smirk.

“The right thing?” Finally Addison spun around to glare at him, her eyes shining steel, just like he’d imagined. “Are you high?” she huffed. “Are you on that shit right now?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m not. Pinky promise ya. And this is for Ryan. Would ya ever forgive yourself if something happened to him?”

Addison took a breath and closed her eyes, turning back to the counter but he knew he had her.

“I thought you didn’t give a fuck about him anymore,” she muttered.

“Aye, well, I know you still do, dontcha.”

Addison scoffed, shaking her head. “I fucking hate you sometimes, Butcher.”

He grinned and spread his hands wide. “Well join the club, sunshine. We meet on Tuesday nights.”

“We?” she muttered, as she scooped a handful of cut veggies and dumped them into a bowl. “You go to the ‘We Hate Butcher’ meetings, do you?”

“I’m the fuckin’ President, sunshine.”

Addison rolled her eyes and turned around again, still brandishing the knife, which Butcher eyed warily.

“What is it? What do you need so badly.”

Fuck she was gorgeous when she was mad. But he shoved the thought away and swallowed, focusing on the task at hand. “Need an address. The twins.” He made the motion of an explosion with his hands and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“What for?”

“Just a simple deal with a… colleague , lo -“ he stopped himself just in time.

Addison shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. You’re working with Soldier Boy, aren’t you? Are you insane? Did you miss the part when he blew up midtown? You look like a lunatic or worse helping him -"

“I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks ‘bout me. This ain’t just about revenge anymore and you know it. Homelander could kill half the country before the sun went down. That don’t compare to one building, which was an accident by the way. And half the country now…now that includes Ryan. And you. And…and this baby. And it ain’t fuckin’ right.”

He saw when her face changed and he knew he was manipulating her ruthlessly, but the fact was that it was true, too, and she knew it.

“This is our best chance right now and I won’t let it go to waste.”

She sighed. “Explain what the fuck happened in midtown?”

Butcher shook his head. “It weren’t on purpose, whatever happened it was an accident. Look I’m not sayin’ the guy is an angel but this is our shot.”

Addison took another breath and blew it out and he knew he had gotten through to her.

“Fine,” Addison said. “If you’re really sure this is the only way.”

“Too fuckin’ right I am.”

“I’ll get the address. But only because Tommy is a fucking piece of shit and I’ve been trying to get something solid on him for years,” she paused, looking at him. “But I want a favor in return.”

Butcher took a step closer, the corner of his mouth lifting in his most pleased smirk. He couldn’t help himself. She looked like his favorite desert and he was a starving man. “And what might that be?”

******

Addison eyed him for a moment, teetering somewhere between so fucking turned on she couldn’t stand it and irritated out of her mind… the smug, rugged, handsome asshole. And fuck if she didn’t miss him so much it hurt like an iron fist to the face. She had broke it off and she wasn’t changing her mind, but it wasn’t her fault she was going absolutely crazy….

“I wanna fuck.” She had to bite back a smirk of her own at the way his eyes lit up and then he grinned, dimple and all, the fucking bastard.

“Miss me that much, eh?” he teased.

“Listen,” she huffed. “My hormones are going crazy, and that is your fucking fault by the way,” she pointed the knife at him, “and the vibrator just isn’t doing the job.”

“You could always find a new lad to play with, can’t ya?”

Addison lifted her chin, just a fraction of an inch. “No.” She couldn’t. He was the father of her child, and to her…to her, no one else mattered. Not like that. So even if there was ever a time she didn’t want him, she didn’t want anyone else either.

She turned back to the kitchen counter, chopping again before her expression could give anything away to him. Not that he didn’t already know but fuck. She wasn’t going to show it.

She heard him though, she heard him step up behind her and then his big, strong hand was sliding over her hip, and oh the things those fingers could do…

Butcher paused for a moment as if he was testing her, then, “Deal,” he husked and he spun her around. His hazel eyes were dark with emotion and she almost sighed dreamily with relief when he let his guard down and she saw that he wanted her too, that it wasn’t just her, that his words before had been just as hollow and false as she knew they were. As hers were.

Addison threw her arms around his shoulders at the same time he pulled her hard against him and captured her mouth with his.

He groaned against her lips and she held on tighter.

“Fuck, love,” he gasped when he finally pulled away to breathe, and that’s when she realized she had sliced into her arm with the knife, her blood smearing across his neck.

“Shit, sorry…” she mumbled stepping back, chagrined. She tossed the knife in the sink and wiped off the blood on her forearm to make sure the cut had healed, and when she saw it had, she grabbed his hand, pulling him toward her bedroom. She couldn’t wait any longer.

“Fuckin’ mental,” he muttered dragging his knuckles over the blood on his neck but she turned to kiss him again to shut him up, fusing her mouth to his, and then he was scooping her up in his arms to carry her the rest of the way.

He coaxed her mouth open and his tongue swept over hers, playing and teasing. She broke away just as he reached the bed, her breath heavy and nodded toward her desk. “I’ll start a search really quick,” she breathed.

“Ah…almost forgot about that…” he grinned.

He set her down next to her desk and she leaned down, her fingers flying over her keyboard as she entered in a lengthy password and set up a scan for the information he wanted. When it was set, he swept her off her feet again and laid her down across the bed.

Her breath caught in her throat and she had to swallow. The way he looked, standing over her, dark and tall and brooding and wanting, his gaze sweeping across her form as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it away…

“Butcher,” she reached for him, her gaze roaming over his chest, and he kneeled on the bed next to her.

He helped her push her t-shirt over her head, and rumbled when he saw she had nothing on beneath, then pressed her back down to the bed and started a line of hot kisses down between her breasts, nipping and licking on his way. She bit her lip when he paused at her stomach and brushed his mouth just below her belly button and she knew, she knew he was thinking about what they had now, what was theirs, and she wished he would come to terms with it… But then he hooked his fingers in her shorts and tugged them down her long legs along with her underwear until she was naked beneath him and she felt like she was catching on fire.

He kissed her knee then rubbed his chin over the top of her thigh and her entire body shuddered in response.

“Butcher, fuck, please,” she begged before she could stop herself and she felt him smirk against her leg.

Impatient and eager, she moved, with his hands helping, until he could settle between her legs, his broad shoulders pushing her knees apart.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured and then he dipped his head to slip his tongue inside of her. When he gave a gruff moan, and flicked his tongue lazily over her clit before stroking his tongue inside of her again she realized this wasn’t going to be a quick ‘get her warmed up then move on to the main event.’ No he seemed quite happy right there….

“Ohhh…” she whimpered, desperate and needy and eager. Almost as eager as he seemed to be.

Butcher swirled his tongue around her swollen bud and pressed his palms roughly against her legs, urging her to open wider for him. His skin was hot where it touched her and his beard tickled along her inner thighs. She slid one hand into his hair while she gripped the pillow with the other.

“So good…” she whimpered. He knew. He knew every inch of her. Shifting again, he moved so he could slide his fingertips along her folds and then he teased two fingers just an inch inside of her, rumbling at how slick she was for him. His tongue kept up its lazy patterns over her swollen clit and when he felt her climb to the next precipice, he pressed his fingers all the way inside of her.

Addison cried out as pleasure flooded through her body. Nothing could compare to this, to him. She lifted her hips eagerly, taking his fingers deeper and pushing against his tongue and he groaned in response, a pleased rumble of pride and approval.

So perfectly, he began to pump his fingers inside of her and he caught her clit between his lips, flicking his tongue over it then sucking hard. Addison was already so turned on she felt like it would only take another second to explode, and she was ready, but then he slowed, teasing her.

“This all for me, sunshine?” he rumbled, his fingers gliding easily though her wetness, looking up along the length of her body with dark eyes.

“Yes,” she moaned; writhing against him; begging for more. “Just you. Please…”

“Good girl, so sweet…” he ran the tip of his tongue across his lush lower lip. “I can give ya what ya need.”

“Please Butcher,” she whimpered, tugging on his hair.

He groaned and dipped his head back to her core, using his tongue and his mouth and his hand to hold her down and in the next moment she was clenching hard around his long fingers, crying out as her climax crashed through her, trembling and shaking with each wave of pleasure, one after another, a pure, all encompassing release.

When she’d had enough, Billy shifted slowly, wiping his forearm across his mouth and pushing himself up from the bed.

He glanced up at Addison, flush and still trying to catch her breath, but she could see the hint of uncertainty in his eyes so she reached for him. “C’mere…” He lifted his hand and she grabbed it, tugging, her eyes still alight with want.

“Hang about,” he murmured gruffly, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes, then pulling himself over her on the bed.

“Wait,” she breathed out, pressing her palm to his chest and holding him back. “Have you been sleeping around?”

“Oi, I wouldn’t say around,” he answered indignantly, making a face. “It were a mistake -“

Addison reached over to the table next to the bed, yanking the drawer open and pulling out a condom. “I don’t want to know, just -“ She pushed the small package into his palm.

“Where were this two months ago?” he asked, holding the foil package up between his fingers.

“Fuck you,” she rolled her eyes, but her need overrode any irritation. “And hurry up.”

He grinned and sat back on his heels, tearing the package open and rolled the latex down over his thick cock while she watched. The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip and he smirked at her, dimple and all.

“Shut up,” she muttered but she reached for him, pulling him close again, until their mouths met in a searing kiss.

But when he pulled back again, his eyes were serious. “Are ya sure this is what you want, Addi?”

“Yesssss,” she groaned, nodding, and he moved without another seconds hesitation, nestling his hips between her thighs. She could sense him going slower as his belly pressed to hers. How long would it be before her belly curved up, how long before…

…but they both let it pass.

"So fuckin’ gorgeous," he murmured low and smoky as he reached down and dragged his tip over her still throbbing clit.

Addison lifted her hips impatiently and it made him slide in an inch, groaning as he did. “More,” she whimpered. He caught his breath and pressed the rest of the way inside of her, filling her completely, deeply with one slow thrust.

She squeezed her body around his length and watched as his eyes went even darker.

“Fuck ya feel good, princess.”

“Don’t - oh!” she whimpered as he pulled back and pushed inside of her again. “… call me that….”

He didn’t reply but he didn’t call her that again either. He started a rhythm, each thrust slow and measured and making her squirm beneath his weight.

Addison whimpered and moaned, sliding her palms over his muscled back, letting her short fingernails bite into his hot skin. He let out a deep groan, but continued his thrusts, precise and steady.

Her entire body shuddered when he hit that perfect spot inside of her and her hips bucked up, taking him deeper. She bit her lip, but already she was teetering on the edge and desperate for him to take her over.

“Please, yes, please…” she cried, wrapping her legs around his hips.

“Does my girl wanna come for me again?” he husked, his breath hot against the shell of her ear.

“Yes…” she gasped.

He slid his hand between them, circling his thumb against her clit and she shifted to make more room. “That’s my good girl,” he rumbled. “Come nice and hard for me.”

She cried out and gasped again, beyond words now and after a few more smooth thrusts and slippery circles of his thumb she was climaxing, whimpering helplessly, throbbing around his cock and clenching hard. He followed just after with a gruff, deep moan and the sound sent her soaring again, a new sob of pleasure escaping her lips.

He pressed his face to the curve of her neck, his arms pulling her to him as they rode out the waves together and Addison gave a long purr of sated joy, all of her body releasing the tension of the last few weeks at once.

The two of them stayed that way for what felt like hours, him wrapped around her so tight it was almost difficult to breathe but she didn’t care. It felt like heaven.

Eventually he moved and lifted his head from where it was buried against her neck, a few strands of her hair sticking to his damp skin.

“Ya alright?” he asked, voice gruff.

“Mmmmm,” she hummed, and nodded.

He moved, slow to let go of her, lingering just a little, but sitting up all the same.

“I’d hate to be accused of bein’ unromantic but I’m on a bit of a schedule, sunshine.”

Addison nodded sleepily and Butcher stood, carefully removing the condom and tying it off before getting rid of it. Addison sat up at the edge of the bed, trying to work up the strength to get up but before she could, Billy swung her up in his arms again, and carried her to the bathroom.

When she was done, he carried her back to the bed and she laughed softly as he tucked her in, pulling the thick comforter up to her chin as she snuggled into the blankets.

He lifted the towel he’d brought out to wipe at her blood that was dried on his neck but she made a soft sound and he turned to look at her, pausing.

“Don’t,” she said in a quiet voice with a mischievous smile. “Leave it. Cuz you’re mine.”

“You’re stark ravin.’”

“You like it.”

He shook his head, but his expression was soft as he started to gather his clothes.

“Billy,” she murmured as he tugged his pants back on, buckling his belt.

It was the first time she’d used his first name since he’d been there.

“Do you really think you have a chance of taking out Homelander.”

“Aye. I have to try. For Ryan.”

“I know. And Becca. And the baby.”

He took a step back toward her. “And you.”

She nodded minutely. “I’m with you then.”

He was quiet for a moment before he looked away. “I best go.”

“Get my laptop.”

She tapped at the keys, and felt him watching her as her eyes scanned the results. “Vermont,” she said, turning the laptop to show him the address.

He reached for a pen off her nightstand and scrawled the address on a scrap of paper before stuffing it into his pocket. “Thanks, Addi,” he murmured.

She nodded, but she was already drifting off again, turning to snuggle her face into the pillow next to her when she remembered she had been making dinner. “Will you bring me the chips from the cupboard before you go though…” she mumbled.

“Thought you were making a salad?"

“Mmmm. D’nt want that… And a can of seltzer. And the gummy bears.”

Billy gave a low chuckle. “Oi, anything for you, sunshine."

His voice was soft, and it was honestly the most relaxed she’d felt in weeks. Maybe everything would be okay.

Addison fell sound asleep, hugging a pillow to her chest, before he came back to leave her snacks on the bedside table.

~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think! One word, a few words, many words, an emoji, all comments are good! Let me know what you want to see, anything!

Chapter 36

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