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#the boys butcher
tojirights · 17 days
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getting into a fight with billy and he pushes you against the wall, arm against your throat. he wants to be mad, to keep snarling in your face but he stops dead in his tracks when you moan. embarrassment surges through your body, taking the place of anger very quickly. "d'ya like this, hm?" billy smirks, finding yet another weakness he can use against you.
you struggle to get his arm off of you, but his muscles flex and hold you firmly in place. "fuck you." you cough out, barely able to find any air. butcher actually laughs this time, kicking your feet apart to slide his knee between your thighs. "i bet you’d love that, ya filthy little girl." he coos into your ear, breath ghosting over your skin. you can't help the strained whimper that leaves your constrained throat.
"are we fighting or fucking, butcher?" you snarl, gritting your teeth and trying to stand your ground but you can't deny the throb taking place between your legs. butcher relaxes the pressure on your throat in favor of pushing his body against yours. you can feel his cock digging into your hip, straining against the zipper of his jeans. "oy well, ain't that the million dollar question..." he grunts, and you're greatful that his body is reacting the same way.
"i do love me a good ol' hate fuck..." he mutters to himself before his lips crash into yours. its a frenzy to get his jeans undone and free his cock. unfortunately for you, your leggings weren't long for this world as butcher rips a hole straight through the crotch.
his hands quickly fly down your sides before landing on your hips. butcher's fingers dig into your skin, sure to leave puffy bruises in his wake as he easily lifts you up. it's almost insulting, the way he can just toss you around, but your body has thoughts of its own. in one swift move, butcher's pushing the thick head of his cock slowly inside your aching cunt. the stretch makes your thighs shake even while wrapped around billy's waist.
"aye, what a good little cunt..." billy groans, warmth enveloping his cock as your pussy takes in every thick inch. "fucking christ, billy." you whine, your arms coming around to dig into his back. he doesn't give you nearly enough time to adjust to his size, quickly bouncing you on his cock and using the wall as leverage. "what's that, love? too much cock for ya?" he teases, pushing impossibly deeper until the head of his cock has nowhere else to go.
you shoot him "shut up and fuck me, you perv." your words lack their usual venom, too turned on to bother with really insulting him. the amount of times you've thought about this exact scenario was maybe slightly embarrassing, but you can't say you're upset now that you finally have butcher balls deep inside of you. "aye, i never keep a lady waitin'..." he snickers, his lips finding the exposed skin of your neck and collarbone.
each nip of his teeth has your head spinning, pleasure and pain mixing in an incredibly intoxicating potion. you're going to have no good explanation for the bruises tomorrow, but all you can seem to care about is butcher's hand sneaking between your bodies to play with your swollen clit. "yer gonna sing pretty for me when ya cum on my cock, right princess?" he's pushing you to the edge, faster than you could have anticipated, your legs shaking with every tandem thrust and flick of his finger.
butcher's cock rubs so snugly against your sweet spot, your vision going blurry as the pleasure consumes you. "f-fuck you, billy." you gasp, back arched off the wall as he pounds your cunt relentlessly. he just chuckles, feeling the way your pussy flutters around him. "wouldn't wanna be doin' anythin' else right about now." the growl in his voice is enough to push you over the edge, stars exploding behind your eyes as the most intense orgasm you've ever had rolls over you.
you're left gasping, panting for breath as butcher keeps fucking your pulsing cunt. "fuckin' hell... just milkin' the cum out, ain't ya? ya want me ta fill this fuckin' cunt up, leave your poor pussy drippin'?" you whimper at his filthy words, clenching around his length as he puncuates every word with a thrust. butcher's groan is animalistic, coming deep from his throat as he releases deep inside of you. each thick rope of cum coats your fluttering walls before dripping down billy's legnth.
he holds you for a moment, panting as he rides out the pleasure. but the silent bliss only lasts for another moment before billy's hand is back around your throat. "don't think this gets you off the hook. still pissed about you lettin' that piece of shite live..." he grumbles, kissing your puffy lips before placing you gently back on your feet and turning his back to you.
you roll your eyes, leaning heavily against the walls as you regain feeling in your legs. "butcher i need pants!" you call as he goes to walk away from you, but he just gives you the middle finger over his shoulder while smirking, leaving you to find new clothes while still leaking cum down your thighs.
"what a fucking gentleman..." you groan.
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thelilnan · 1 year
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that's a bad word billy
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obsessedwrhys · 11 days
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Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader
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t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!
ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3
Origin:
Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.
Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.
BUTCHER
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To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.
How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.
Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)
"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"
":("
Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.
He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.
"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.
Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.
"Did you miss me?"
"Oh christ..."
When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?
Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.
For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.
"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"
"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.
The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.
Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.
"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"
"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"
"He's dead"
"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"
But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.
Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.
Compatibility? 75%
HUGHIE
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You treat him like a child.
No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him
"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"
"Stop..."
"Does baby want his milky?"
Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.
"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.
"I don't think he speaks English"
"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"
"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"
"Eh, you're right"
BANG
"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"
"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"
You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.
"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.
"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"
"God you're so ungrateful!!"
Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.
"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.
You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.
"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."
However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.
But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?
Compatibility? 55%
FRENCHIE
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He's like your hype man which is concerning.
Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.
"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.
"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.
After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.
"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.
On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.
Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.
"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"
"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"
Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.
"What are you mad at me for?!?!"
"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"
"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"
"WHAT?"
There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.
Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?
Compatibility? 99.9%
M.M
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Everybody deserves second chances.
He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.
"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"
"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."
M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.
"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."
"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"
Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.
"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.
You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.
Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.
You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.
I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.
That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.
"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.
"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"
"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"
Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.
She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.
Compatibility? 80%
KIMIKO
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She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.
Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.
She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.
"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."
"😐"
"It's beautiful..."
Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.
Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.
"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.
"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.
"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."
"(Can you please take this seriously?)"
"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.
"😡"
"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"
For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.
For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.
"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"
Compatibility? 97%
Bonus +
SOLDIER BOY
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You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.
Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.
In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.
"I'll take red with me"
"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.
"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.
Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.
"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"
"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"
Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.
"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.
"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"
"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"
"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"
At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.
"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"
"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"
Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.
Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔
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High Enough
Billy Butcher Masterlist
Summary: When Billy Butcher receives a flower, he doesn’t really understand why or what to do with it. Something seems off with the plant, but when Butcher understands, it’s too late. And there’s only one person he can call for help.
Pairing: Billy Butcher x F!Reader
Rating: 18+
Warning: Dubcon due to the sex pollen (even if everyone is okay with it, I'm still puting the warning), smut, p in v, unprotected sex, overstimulation, attempted murder, swearing, mention of past violent trauma, toxic plant, being high on a flower
Word Count: 2840
Square: sex pollen for @anyfandomdarkbingo​​
A/n: This fic was requested by @strife4life​ that requested Billy Butcher with the square sex pollen! Hope you like it!
Don’t forget to leave a feedback!
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It was only a flower, for fuck sake.
Since when does people need to be warry of a fucking flower?
Of course, when that lovely lady gave him the flower, at first Butcher had been confused. Then, he tried to refuse the present, but the person was gone. What could the flower do? It was a sweet gesture, and no one ever gave him a flower before. It was pretty, delicate, and it smelled so good. 
As Butcher walked back to the Boys’ headquarters, he brought the flower closer to his nose and smelled it tentatively.
It smelled like...
At first, the flower reminded him of Becca. When they were together, she kept talking about the garden she wanted where she would grow vegetables. Mostly to force him to eat them because only eating junk food and meat was bad somehow. 
“Why not flowers, heh?” He had said then, trying to make her forget about the veggies’ diet. The smile that then stretched her lips meant two things. She knew he was trying to change the subject on purpose to avoid any green food. And growing flowers was already in her plans.
The flower reminded him of her, at first. But when he smelled it, it didn’t remind him of Becca. 
It reminded him of Y/n.
Y/n that joined the Boys because of Frenchie. In one of his missions with Kimiko, they found her. Kneeling in the blood of the one that just got killed by the fucking supes, holding in her arms what was left of her husband. At first, Frenchie and Kimiko didn’t want to bring her to Butcher, telling her some shit about that life being even bloodier. That her anger would only turn her into a monster if she kept feeding it with the need of revenge. But she didn’t listen to them and joined the Boys.
Y/n was everything but Becca. So much anger and rage was boiling in her veins, her desire for revenge and payback probably as strong as Butcher. And it shouldn’t turn him on, to see someone filled with the anger caused by the loss of people she cared about. But there was something in that rage that felt just so… Familiar. Like someone finally understood all the mess he was feeling. Of course, the rest of the Boys also had their own tragic backstory and anger on their own.
But her… She was… She was just… Y/n. 
The flower smelled just like her, and it should have ring a bell. Red flag. Alarm should have gone out in his head. But it smelled good, like she was standing right in front of him, and he felt at peace, so Butcher kept on smelling the flower until he was inside the headquarters. Even inside, he kept the flower in his hand. Even when he sat down on the couch, he continued scenting it, and the more he did, the closer he seemed to get to her.
The closer he seemed… To… His head was spinning, or maybe it was the surroundings. Not like Butcher was looking anywhere else than the flower, his gaze was focused on the plant. That, or he closed his eyes and pictured her, sitting on his lap, grinding his crotch and getting off on just that… 
Butcher snapped his eyes open in a second of lucidity.
Something was wrong. 
Detaching his eyes from the flower was so hard, like his eyes would pop out of his skull if he even tried, but he managed to look around. The place… was so blurry, like he was underwater. And when Butcher tried to stop breathing in the scent of the flower, he found himself unable to.
Glancing down, he avoided the sight of the plant to look at himself. Nausea filled his senses when he saw the ground move, just like he was on a boat and the ocean was filled with big waves moving him all around. He felt sick. Sick if he stopped looking at the flower. Sick just thinking about not breathing it.
Sick if he didn’t do something about the fucking boner he now had.
“What the fuck,” Butcher managed to say, slapping himself hard on the cheek. It seemed to help, so he did it again, and again, until he was awake enough to take his phone and dial her number.
“What do you want?”
Hearing her voice was the same as heroin. His body was possessed with a surge of energy, of high, and he groaned. Butcher just couldn’t help it, he felt so… So high… High with that fucking flower… Flower he was still holding and smelling like a fucking drug addict…
“Need… Help…”
It was the only thing he could say before the phone dropped to the floor.
-
“Butcher? Hey, Butcher! It’s better not be a fucking prank, or I swear to god-”
The moment you received the call, you knew something was wrong.
When Butcher stopped talking, stopped answering his calls, flashbacks of what happened to your husband came back like a punch in your guts. Red filled your sight, his blood painting the walls. The blood you were scared to see when you would find Butcher.
After tracking his phone, you found where Butcher was, so you left everything behind and rushed to him.
“Butcher?” You called again, walking in the huge place, trying to find the bearded man.
“Ugh…”
A groan alerted you, and immediately, you had your gun drawn out and were walking towards the noise. Another groan followed the first and then you finally found Butcher. 
“The fuck happened?!” You rushed to the man laying on the floor, still making sure there was no one else in here. Perhaps some supes found the place and tried to kill him? “Butcher!” You put your hand on his shoulder to turn him towards you, but the moment you touched him, the world took a turn and you were on your back, pinned by a heavy, burning mass. “The fuck!” You yelled, tried to push him away, hell, fire your gun on him if you still had it in your hand, but you dropped it when he pinned you on the floor. “Fuck off!”
“Y/n…” Butcher sighed, and you stopped struggling. That wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him. He would never… “Help… Please… Flower…”
Butcher wasn’t making a fucking sense and you tried once again to push him away. Maybe it was a supe with the shapeshifting ability that took his place and now wanted to kill you. He would strangle you to death, or take his gun and put a bullet in your head and then-
Hands didn’t touch your throat, but something else did. As his beard brushed against the sensitive skin of your throat, you froze, feeling his nose and then breath on you. Harsh, hard and fast. Butcher was breathing so hard, it was like oxygen couldn’t enter his lungs properly.
If this was the shapeshifter technique to kill you, it was weird as shit.
“Let me go!” You struggled again, and by trying to avoid more touch of his body, you turned your head to the side. That was when you saw it.
Motionless on the floor, it had white petals and a very bright yellow center. And you just knew if you were an inch closer to the plant, its pollen would drive you crazy with the smell of someone you desired more than anything, slowly killing you unless you bang them. And the only reason you knew all that was because you worked on those. You basically created that shit.
Back when you were working for the enemy. Before the incident that had your husband killed, before you decided fuck Vought and that you would destroy that company and burn it to the ground.
“Please… Y/n…” Butcher sighed your name and snuggled his head into the crook of your neck to take a deep breath. Immediately, a shiver ran through his body and he moaned softly.
“Butcher,” you swallowed, knowing very well what would happen if he didn’t immediately get what he needed. And somehow, the person he desired was you. Luckily it wasn’t someone that was dead, then he would be fucked up. “It’s the flower. It has a pollen that boost your sex drive and kills you unless you fuck-”
“Fuck,” he repeated, his body growing heavier on yours. You couldn’t know for sure about his consent, not in the state he was in. At least, you had the confirmation Butcher wanted to bang you for some time now, or else, the flower wouldn’t be that effective.
This was your mess. You had to do something about it. It was to save him. It was to save him from something you created. You had to keep that in mind, he wanted you. 
And fuck did you always wanted him too.
“I’m gonna help you, okay?” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to make him step back, at least to go somewhere more comfortable. But the situation took a whole other turn as Butcher manhandled you to put you on your stomach. Now that he had your consent, he could do whatever he wanted and let go of his inner desires. 
At least, it seemed he still had some of his consciousness.
On your stomach, you couldn’t see anything, but oh boy could you feel it. 
The material of your jeans being ripped off of your body, like it was nothing as Butcher rushed to remove your pants.
His impatient and needy grunts, his breathing fast and uneven as he destroyed your clothes until he got access to what he needed. What he craved. What would save him.
By the time Butcher freed your cunt, you were also a dripping mess. Glancing at the flower, you made sure it was still far enough from you, one of the two had to keep their head clean until it was done. 
The plant was still at the same spot. And you felt remotely in control of your body and mind.
Too focused on the cursed flower, you were surprised to feel something else than a cock on your intimacy. Rough hand pushed your cheeks apart and you gasped, feeling something wet and warm between your folds. Glancing back, you met black eyes filled with lust as Butcher was licking you up completely, moaning at the taste of your juice on his tongue. And fuck, was the sight beautiful, seeing how fast his beard started glistening with your juice and his spit…
As suddenly as he started, Butcher stopped. A simple, pathetic and needy moan slipped out of your mouth and you bit your lip, trying to at least some kind of dignity out of this.
But it was too late. Butcher heard you.
It was so fast, all you could do was fucking moan and try to remember how to breathe.
His length was already inside you completely, filling you up so much it knocked the air out of your lungs. God, you didn’t have the chance to see his cock, but just feeling how good it filled and stretched you… You knew it was big. Big and so hard and burning…
Butcher didn’t wait before he started moving, and you could understand why. You weren’t even affected by the flower and yet you felt the uncontrolable need to be fucked and to cum. Your body wanted his touch, your cunt wanted his cock. You couldn’t even imagine how bad it had to be for him.
“Fuck… Fuck…” You moaned, your nails scratching the floor every time he bottomed out. His pace was merciless, giving you no time to do anything but moan and try to breathe, and it felt so good, him fucking you into the ground, like you were just some cheap whore he would pay 40 bucks to have an hour with… 
Just him using you with no other purpose than getting his release, being no one but a hole and a body to own and use.
It felt good. Because as he fucked you hard and fast, you didn’t think about all the things that made you hate yourself. You didn’t think about anything. Your mind was blank, empty, only your body mattered as Butcher fucked your brain stupid.
You lost count of how many times Butcher made you cum.
At first, he fucked you from behind on the floor.
Then, between two orgasms, you managed to climb on the couch, where he doggy style fucked you again. 
The more you came, the more he seemed to regain control of his body, because next thing, you were riding him as he was now sitting on the couch and he was slapping your ass, groaning things about how much of a fucking slut you were.
Butcher seemed to have endless stamina. Or it was the flower. In any case, you completely didn’t fucking care. It felt so good, you were in sweats, even if you were now both completely naked. You didn’t even know when the clothes got lost, who removed what, or what got destroyed. All you knew and cared about was his cock buried inside of you, and how good it made you feel.
“Fuck, Y/n, wanted to fill your cunt since the first day…”
It was the first complete sentence he was saying.
“Wanted you to fuck me since the first time I saw you,” you answered, still jumping on his cock. You were slower, your body quickly losing its remaining amount of energy and strength.
“Still got some for a last one, luv?” Butcher groaned, his hand already between your legs, his fingers stroking your bundle of nerves at a quick pace. Breathing was already hard, but now, it stopped completely as your body got seized with overstimulation’s shivers, Butcher easily forcing another orgasm out of you. You cried out as it was almost painful by now, and finally, the roar reached your ears and you felt it.
His cock was so deep inside of you, you felt the ropes of cums shooting inside of your walls and filling your already full channel. Butcher seemed to cum for seconds and seconds, shaking under you, his arms circling your body and holding you impossibly closer.
Both of you were covered in sweat. Both of you were breathing hard. Both of you were exhausted and overstimulated.
You would have fallen asleep right there and then if it wasn’t for his hand roaming every single inch of your body, like finally, he was awake after a long, endless dream. Like he was discovering you, meeting you for the first time.
“What… Happened,” he said after a few attempts to find back his breath, and remorse started creeping all over you. Fuck. You abused him. Clearly. The flower was your fault, you tried to fix your mess, save him, but ultimately, you abused him- “What did I do to deserve you sitting on my cock, luv?”
“Don’t you…” You started, frowning at his comment. The biggest, most satisfied smirk you ever saw on his face was stretching his lips. “Remember?”
“I remember a flower alright,” he tilted his head to the side, his hands now resting on your waist. “Then, everything was… confused, and I felt high, so high, all I could think about was to sink my cock in your cunt,” he gestured to you, still on his cock.
You never felt more embarrassed in your life. Yeah, that was Butcher, straight to the point.
“Okay so,” You tried changing the subject, tell him what really happened. “The pollen in the flower drugged you and well, kinda my fault, it’s something I worked on back then…” You turned your head away, trying to find your inner strong imperturbable self, but it was too late.
“Figured,” Butcher muttered. “That shit is dangerous and strong as fuck…” He glanced at something behind you, and you didn’t need to turn your head to know it was the said flower. “I think someone tried to kill me by giving me this. Good thing you were there eh. Good thing you worked on it, so you knew how to save me.”
“Yeah,” you said, still feeling bad for what happened. Of course you saved him. But ultimately, it was still all your fault. You tried to get off his lap, but hands put you back where you were. That had the effect of a thrust and you couldn’t help but moan, feeling his cock push the cum out of your abused hole as it sank back in. “Fuck…” You closed your eyes, feeling him so deep inside.
“The pollen wore off,” Butcher muttered. “I’m alright. Now, how about we fuck for the good reason, eh? I wanna see your pretty face when I make you cum… Again.”
You tried to deny it. But fuck, you were still high from your previous orgasms, and your body reclaimed more.
The flower and the attempted murder could wait.
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Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @b3autyfuldisast3r @eevvvaa @fictional-affairs @wickedinspirations @awkward-and-indecisive @cryptichobbit​
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strawberly95 · 2 months
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The names in spanish sound SO fk funny I HAD to make a cursed drawing 😭😭
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tapeworrmart · 4 months
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Angry and scruffy
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tectoniccyborg · 10 months
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forbidd3n-w1re · 1 year
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Letting the walls down - Billy Butcher x Reader
hey-ho! i've had this idea for a while and had to pour it out, enjoy! 
 originally this was supposed to be a butcher x reader but while writing it i put in a tiny bit of hughie x reader, i mean you can see it if you squint lol-
 summary : you and butcher have been somewhat okay friends for a while, and even though he doesn't want to acknowledge it, he cant push everyone away.
 warnings : so much angst (i feed off of it.) nightmares, beating up, billy actually being nice to someone(you lol), billy also attacking hughie, scars, panic attack, flashbacks, heavy alcohol use, passing out, venting, traumatic past, mention of shootings, "cunt"'s (tell me if i forgot something please!)
 if any of these trigger you, please dont read this fanfic!
commission : nope!
 word count : ≈2800 words
 genre : angst, hurt/comfort (someone's gotta do it, right?)
(im so sorry this is so long i went wild with this one)
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Butcher wasn't a talkative type when it comes to his past. In fact, he never let anyone come close enough to him to know him very well. In the team, he was just the leader, the one that organized the plan and the strategy, the one that went head-first into danger.
You? You we're the one that held the team like a magnet.
When Hughie first joined, Butcher looked like he'd screw his head off if he made one wrong step. Every single time Butcher offended him and told him he was a cunt, you'd fight back for him. You knew that Hughie had it in him, he knew how to be defensive, but at that time it was risky to talk back to Butcher due to the fact how much Billy hated him. It happened a lot. It was like you were Butcher's tranquilizer.
Hughie appreciated everytime you stood on his side, even after every glare Billy made to you. Billy knew the death glare would work on Hughie because he looked like he shat his pants, but you? You did not twitch at all. No shiver. Nothing. You couldn't even bother to look back at him.
Sooner or later, Butcher's "cunt"'s and "wimp"'s that were addressed to Hughie weren't that frequent anymore. Sure, Butcher without using the word cunt at least once in a day was nonexistent, but they weren't said to Hughie anymore.
Until one day they had a pretty big fight about the new member, Annie, AKA Starlight. Butcher, the no.1 Supe hater immediately started swearing at Hughie for bringing her to the hideout. After some time, Annie left, and then the shit hit the fan.
"Oi, kid. Who the fuck do you think you are, bringin' over here some random chick? Who is, apparently, a fuckin' Supe?" Butcher started yelling at the guy, pushing him around.
"Listen, I-I know it wasn't a good idea, but please, hear me out--"
Butcher grabbed Hughie by the collar, slamming him against a pillar hardly, and the smaller figure of Hughie's let out a loud grunt.
"Shut yer' fuckin' trap right the fuck now. Do yer' understand in what danger we could be if she had a mic?" Butcher held his collar more tightly now, looking at him like he might just chop off his head at that moment. "No, you don't, Hughie. You know why? 'Cause you're nothing but a trashy, shitty li'l cunt who had managed to grab a single bit of luck to join my little team. If you continue being a little pussy, I swear on my mother that i will-"
Sensing that the fight seriously escalated, and totally not because Hughie had started to breathe more shallowly because of how hardly his chest was pressed against the pillar, you stood off the couch, grabbed a foldable plastic chair and pushed Butcher as far away from Hughie as you could.
Butcher not detecting the sudden attack had a much more violent tone in his voice now. He wanted a fair fight.
"Oi, the fuck do you think you're doin', li'l shit?" Not bothering to deal with Butcher's bickering, you focused on helping Hughie not fall down as he heaped for gasps of air.
"Hey, Hughie, focus. Focus on your breathing, alright?" You got the comment from other members of the team that you and Billy actually had a lot in common, but the calmness of your voice was something Billy could never achieve probably. Hughie looked at you, his look revealing how many apologies he wanted to tell you for making this now your problem, but you only gave him a hopeful nod and a smile. "Go take a seat on the couch. I have an inhalator in one of my jackets if you need it, alright hun?" Hughie only let out a quiet agreement, following your orders.
Butcher, on the other hand, his eye twitched a little when hearing the nickname you gave Hughie. He knew that the nicknames you gave to the team were all in platonic meanings, but he still felt that little twinge in his heart when he knew the silly nicknames weren't for him.
You followed up now to Butcher, staring up at him. He reeked of alcohol, probably from last night, and cigarettes. He tried to hold up a pissed face to you, but you knew he couldn't do it. Everyone has their secrets, Butcher's was his past, and the fact that everytime you looked badass, he loved it.
"Stay the fuck away from him, or I will pluck out your little so-called "bollocks", one by one, painfully." There was your angry tone, along with a bit of mocking his british dialect. Others were right, you guys did have a lot in common. Billy only smirked at your threat. Billy pushed past you, grabbing his jacket, and stated something that made you chuckle. "Im going out for a drink, try to stay out of the little wimp's underwear while I'm gone."
Hughie and you were alone in the hideout now. Annie left, M.M. was in a visit to his daughter, and Frenchie and Kimiko went on a date.
Approaching the curly haired figure, you heard his small coughing fits. Surely Butcher didn't hurt him that badly, right?
"Hughie? Hun, you alright?" Putting your hand on his shoulder from behind, you jumped over next to him. Hughie brought his head up, only this time he wasn't startled.
"Yeah, I'm alright. Thank you for everything that you've done, really. Especially back there, not everyone has the guts to practically throw Butcher away with a chair." He gave you a small smile.
"No problem. Besides, he shouldn't act like that towards anyone. And Annie was really sweet too-"
Hughie stopped you, quickly apologizing, but immediately continuing.
"No, no, I understand him. I shouldn't have done that, besides he isn't a big fan of Supes, and Annie might've had a mic but I know she wouldn't. We can't be careful enough, if they find us we're practically doomed." Hughie was now on Butcher's side at this point.
"But, you know… He does have a weak spot for you." Hughie gave you a smirk, knowing that if you had water in your mouth you'd probably spit it out after hearing this.
"Pardon?" You looked at him with wide eyes, not believing a single word the curly haired boy just said.
"Back there, when you threatened him. I know that he has this façade of his where he pretends like he's the strongest man alive, but he gave you a smile upon hearing you. I think he even liked the fact that you weren't scared to stand up to him."
You got up from the couch, looking at Hughie with the biggest shock. "What the hell do you mean?"
Hughie just smirked, "You should go check up on him. See how he's doing. I think you're the only one of us that might get closer to him. Don't tell him I sent you there though, please." Nodding in agreement, you grabbed one of your oversized leather jackets and went to the door. Soon, Hughie stopped you.
"Oh, and Y/N? Thank you."
"No problem, hun." And you headed out to find your stupid ass loverboy.
//////~~`×`~~//////
Heading into the bar, you looked at the clock that was placed next to the cups. The clock showed half past 11, and your view fell onto the slouched, buff figure that was Billy. Walking up to him, you tapped flicked his head lightly as a sign for him to wake up.
"Oiiii, yer lil cuntttt…" He sounded wasted more than he ever was. He used to drink a lot on work, one time he even wanted to dance with M.M., but the 17 glasses of whisky gave you a very bad impression on how he felt right now.
"Hi to you too, cunt ass." You lightly shook him with a small curl of your lips on your face showing.
"The fock do ya want, kid? Can't you see a man tryin' to enjoy himself?" His british accent came out even more unclear when he was intoxicated, which would be funny if he wasn't laying down on the table, alone in the pub. "Go get me another round, be useful for once, N/N." That was a new one, you never heard anyone from the team use a nickname on you.
"Absolutely not. Butcher, c'mon, get up, we're leaving." You tried to give him a hand, but he wouldn't budge.
"Where the hell we goin'?" He groggily asked.
"Im driving you to my home since I don't know your adress.Now Butch, please, cooperate."
Agreeing for once, he put his arm around your shoulders and hung onto you as he struggled to walk.
Walking to your car, you felt like you were walking sideways the whole time, probably because he was much bigger than you. "Lean onto the car, Butch, okay? I have to get my keys, then I'll help you get in the car." You felt the need to give him instructions and steps for everything, because after seeing him passed out on that table circled with whiskey shots, you felt more safe if you did that. Listening to your idea, he leaned on, and you quickly unlocked the car and opened his door. "Alright, hun, let's get you in." Your arm sneaked around his torso, guiding him to sit down into the passenger seat. He smiled lightly at the nickname. Buckling him up, you closed the door lightly and went into your seat, turning on the car and driving away.
//////~~`×`~~//////
Driving around the city, you realized Butcher was quietly snoring. Probably the most peaceful you've ever seen him.
Parking into your backyard garrage, you got out of your car and went to Billy's side, unbuckling him. "Hey, hun, wake up." You lightly gave him a slap on his right cheek, figuring it was a better idea than pouring a bucket of ice on him. Unfortunately, he was not a light sleeper. Giving up, you put your arms around him once more and somehow getting him out of the car, making him lean onto the vehicle for a moment while you locked it.
Swinging your arm once again, you went into your house and layed him down on the couch. By now, it was way past midnight and you came to the conclusion that he wont be waking up until the morning. You went into your bedroom, taking off your work clothes and dressing up into your pj's. Grabbing your phone for a sec to text Hughie that Butcher is in an okay condition, unfortunately you were stopped by Butcher's grunts from the living room.
Getting up and sighing, you realized how much your eyes were close to closing themselves and going off to sleep, how much your arms felt like you had a fist fight with someone and how much your legs burned, including your back that was almost folded in half by Butcher's weight while you carried him. You were tired, but you needed to keep the team in top shape. After all, you were their magnet, which also meant that you should be there for everyone, even Butcher. Even Butcher, who behaved like a bag of shit towards everyone. Knocking on the door side, you stepped in the living room, the floors creaking.
"Butcher, is everything alright?"
Your eyes headed towards his sleeping figure, but he didn't look like he was enjoying his resting time as he kept shivering and thrashing in several points of the night. You got the blanket at the table next to you, slowly putting it over him. The blanket used to provide you heat, but also comfort and a safe space. Maybe it would also work for him. Hopefully.
You wanted to bet that if Frenchie and M.M. were in the room with you right now, they'd probably take a bunch of pictures to make fun of you both. Thankfully, they weren't here, and you thought that Butcher might sometimes lack of rest. Climbing onto the couch, you lightly rose his head up and sat down, putting his head onto your lap and ruffling his hair. He was taller, so you didn't get a lot of opportunities to ruffle his hair at all. You didn't even know you wanted to do that, but you did either way.
Although he was a heavy sleeper, apparently he realized what you were doing. Still woozy from the alcohol and driving around, he barely recognized the place he was in when he woke up, but what he did see was your face. Along with the blanket that you gave him. Snuggling a bit closer to you, he pulled the blanket up closer to you so that you don't feel left out and he mumbled something.
"Didn't hear you, love… Mind trying to repeat it?" You spoke, removing a bit of his hair from his forehead, feeling that he was sweating a bit.
"Hnnnnhhh….y'know 'm nun' like 'im…" His drowsy voice was back, and even though you loved how calm he sounded, you started to get a bit worried. You didn't know the real reason why he was so uptight with everyone, not letting his guard down.
"Like who, love?"
"My fatherrrr…" You don't know his past. You shouldn't jump to conclusions. You only knew that he didn't like his father because Hughie told you that once when you went out for a coffee.
You face was forming a very sad look, trying to keep yourself at bay and not let a few tears drop down to his head. You have to stay strong for everyone. For you. For him.
"No… No, Billy, you're not. You will never be like him. You're better, darling, you know that yourself already." Stay strong. Keep yourself at bay.
"Yeh…yeh…y'know, those scars on my back, the ones you saw during the fight in Russia when you treated my wounds…" His voice didn't sound confused by the alcohol anymore, rather just sad, guilty and ashamed.
"Yeah, what about them love?"
"He did that to me. With a belt. Like I was a fuckin' animal. I tried to save him, Y/N, I-I really did." He was sniffling. If you weren't having the table lamp turned on, you'd think he has a pollen allergy.
This is where your façade started breaking down.
"Who, hun? Who did you try to save?"
"Lenny, my brother. He…" Butcher stopped, looking like he's having an internal fight with himself whether he should continue, because he's showing his vunerable side now. "He shot himself. Because of me." Tears started sliding down his cheeks, silent ones that have shown how much he has been through. How much he has been keeping the truth in for himself. How long he kept it from the public, knowing that if he was left alone his whole life he'd probably rot. The tears showed how much he hated himself for his actions, for leaving his younger brother unprotected, for not standing up to his father more often (even though he tried his best), how much he missed Becca, how much he regretted for leaving Ryan with Homelander, how much he hates looking vunerable. You, though? You didn't question any of his actions. You simply brushed away his tears and gave him a peck in his hair.
"I'm so sorry, love. I'm sorry that happened. Some things just make us stronger, but you were a child back then, you didn't deserve any of this. You didn't deserve to be treated like trash from your father. You didn't deserve Homelander suddenly flying fuck knows where with Ryan. Darling,"
You started, wiping another tear and smiling at him softly. He loved seeing your smile, whether it was a feisty one or a caring one, a silly one or a tired one. It made him feel… loved. "I believe in you. You are literally the strongest person I know. Not a monster. Not a killing machine. Not nothing. You are a person, just like the rest of us."
He sat back up from his sleeping position, only to lay his head down onto your shoulder. You've never seen him this affectionate, nobody probably ever has besides Becca. She was a nice woman, you remember Butcher showing pictures of her sometimes, it's a shame she had to die like that.
"Hey, Y/N." He looked at you.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for being a kind cunt."
"Back with your cuntiness, i see…" you chuckled, and he only closed his eyes again, deciding to fall into the slumber of sleep once again.
"Love ya', Y/N."
You swore you felt heat rise to your cheeks, hell if your blood wasn't all the way into your brain like you were hanging off of something.
"…Love you too, Billy."
His beard tickled the everloving shit of you, but you didn't have the guts to wake him up again. Not while he's getting something he hasn't had for a while, rest. Before joining him in the nap, you swung your arm across his shoulders, pulling him in closer. He seemed to like the action, scooting a bit closer to you.
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AAAA i hope you liked the fic!! i usually dont write a lot, but since the fandom needs more x reader fanfics (esp angst because im so good at it, haha slay), i've came in clutch! B)
 till next time!!
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mlmxreader · 2 years
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Language | Billy Butcher x gn!reader
Anonymous asked: hey! may i request a butcher fic where reader (gn) signs like kimiko and they're in love w butcher but have no idea he has feelings for them as well, so one day reader just breaks down for some reason (angst!!!) and signs to butcher how much they love him but he'll never know, thinking he can't understand. but then he reveals he actually knows what they're saying bc he cares so much for them he started picking up on what each sign meant and then he also confesses to them <3 hope i make sense lol
summary: you and Butcher have no idea how much you love one another, until a bad day finally gets you both to admit it. 
tws: swearing, mentions of fighting 
word count: 1027
The Boys were fine with you using sign language, they always had been, even if it meant that Mother’s Milk was the only one who could actually understand, as while both you and Kimiko both used it, it was two different languages; Mother’s Milk would translate for you when it was needed, but when it wasn’t, you settled for just texting the group chat or writing on a bit of pen and paper. It was easy, if you were honest, and they all made sure to accommodate it when and where they could, although it was sometimes a bit hard - when fighting Supes, it wasn’t exactly easy to find a piece of paper or to pause the fight so that you could send a text. But when and where they could, The Boys always made sure that you and Kimiko had what you needed in order to communicate; Billy, although you were sure he didn’t understand a word of your language, was always double checking everything to make sure that you had the ability to communicate when and where you could. 
It was a shame, really, as during your time with them - joining the little group after they had found you kicking the shit out of The Deep in the middle of town - you had developed feelings for Billy more than anyone; as much as you loved them all, you had a different place in your heart for Billy, but you couldn’t tell him - you thought about writing it down, or texting it to him, but neither seemed like a good option. So you stayed silent, convinced that he never felt the same anyway. 
But Billy had other ideas, he cared for you, a lot, a lot more than he wanted to ever say, a lot more than he ever wanted to admit or confess to; he wanted to make it known to you, but he wanted to do it in your own language. So he started studying the signs, and putting two and two together; he secretly learned it bit by bit, and kept a notebook on his person at all times where he wrote down what sign meant what. He kept a closer eye on you when you were talking with Mother’s Milk, making sure he was getting the signs right; it did help, though, that after a fair bit of time with you, he was picking it up anyway. He was picking up Kimiko’s, too, but he wasn’t trying as much as he was with you - he would make up any excuse to sit close enough to you and Mother’s Milk when you were talking, just so that he could see, properly, what each sign was. He was sure he got half of it wrong, but he was at least trying. 
You were starting to break, though, spending every day with the man you loved and convinced that he would never look twice at you, you were starting to break; you were convinced that he didn’t care about you in the same way that you cared about him, you were certain that if you ever did tell him, he would scorn you and he would throw you out, he would leave you where he had found you and wouldn’t even hesitate either. You were sure of it, and as you watched some actually quite decent, although it did seem awful from the teaser, rom-com that starred Gerard Butler on your phone, you could feel the tears in the corners of your eyes, welling up to the point where everything became a big wet blur; you dropped your phone on your bed, pulling your knees up and burying your face against them as you wrapped your arms around your calves to keep your legs up, your body shaking as you tried to cry quietly. Why were you so fucking stupid? Why did you have to fall for Billy? He would never love you, not in the romantic sense, never in the romantic sense. He would never care about you like that. He would never want you as his significant other. 
The world started to melt away, drowned out by your quiet sobs and your wet gaze, and you didn’t even notice it when Billy knocked on your door gently; he had heard you crying, and he had wondered what was wrong. But you didn’t answer. He let himself in, and sat beside you. Assuming it was Mother’s Milk, you leaned into his side, and cried softly until he gently pulled your head up, enough that you could look into his big brown eyes; Billy frowned, swallowing thickly as he dared to wipe the tears from your eyes. 
“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
You shook your head, pushing yourself away from him. 
“C’mon, (y/n), it’s me,” Billy sighed. “I know I’m a fuckin’ cunt, but I ain’t that bad, am I?”
You sighed, swallowing thickly as you dared to slowly sign, “I fucking love you, but I know you’d never wanna be with me. I know you’d never fucking care about me like that, even though I love you enough that every fucking rom-com I watch, I think of you.” 
Billy smiled, though, which caught you off guard, and he cleared his throat. “Right, I dunno if this is gonna be right, but watch.” 
He started to sign, “I love you, too, I picked up a little of it. I’ve been drinking it.” 
You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. “Drinking it?”
Billy nodded, pulling out his little notepad and showing you what he meant; you grinned, shaking your head. You gestured for him to give you a pen, and when he did, you scribbled something down on the page. 
“You said drinking… you meant studying.” 
“Oh, fuck,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “So what’s studyin’, then?”
You showed him, shaking your head before you smiled at him. “But, you love me?”
“Yeah,” he signed back with a nod. “A fucking lot, actually… be my…” 
“You want to be my boyfriend?” You signed, tilting your head to the side, and when he nodded, you moved close enough to kiss his forehead. “I’d like that.” 
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petit-hughie · 6 days
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hyperfigations · 2 years
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Bitches rlly be like "I can fix him" and it's Billy Butcher.
Y'all are weak.
I'll take him as he is.
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hikarivii · 1 year
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What if?....
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Bonus:
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inherited-by-ocelot · 6 months
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Drawing Billy Butcher (Karl Urban) from The Boys
I adjusted the lightning so it should be more friendly to those with photosensitivity but please watch with caution, it’s a time-lapse so the moving shadows may cause a flashing or flickering effect
Reposted from my Instagram, if you’d like to see the final product look here!
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piratesfromspace · 2 years
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Poison (Billy Butcher x Reader)
Pairing: Billy Butcher x Reader
!! Spoilers for The Boys Season 3, episode 2 !! I’m interrupting my Top Gun mania to write for The Boys. I wrote this while on withdrawal from painkiller/AD and it turned out more angsty than I intended, but I’m pretty proud of this piece. Hope you’ll like it! TW: mention of death and alcohol, smut, p in v sex, kinda rough sex, angst, age gap, Reader is female and younger than Butcher but definitely of age (in her 20s or 30s)
MASTERLIST
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Butcher had - has - many vices. Addictions come easy to him. But sex is not one of them. Not since he lost his wife. The first time at least. Now he doesn’t even have the hope of finding her alive. He knows she’s dead, she won’t come back. He can’t decide if it’s worse or not than being in the limbo of maybe.
Her death has dug a new hole in his heart. In his already flimsy ethics. He just doesn’t care anymore about what happens to him, he has decided to follow his instincts - all of them, even the lower ones. It’s a death wish and a hedonistic impulse all wrapped into one. Into his sick mind. Into his oh so very mortal body.
The last remnants of compound V are running in his veins. The green poison is temporary - but it’s a poison nonetheless. He hates every minute of it. It enhances everything: his strength, his senses, his wit, but also his darkness, his impulsiveness, his ugly desires. He has one hour left before withdrawal, maybe two. And his mission is done. He found the supe he was looking for, he had squeezed the answers out of him, and then he had killed him. There is blood on his shoes, on the lapel of his ragged jacket. He can still smell it, and it’s driving him crazy. All this power at the tip of his fingers, and nowhere to put it. No more supes to smash to a pulp. He’s growing restless. Frustrated. He needs an outlet.
And then he runs into her when he gets back to the safe house. He knows her somehow. She’s a friend of a friend of Frenchie. She helped them once or twice. Or they helped her? He’s not sure but he remembers her because she looked pretty and young and out of her depth. Not the kind of girl who would usually hang around the likes of Frenchie and Chérie. She had been kind to Kimiko, when most people act afraid or like she doesn’t exist. She was different in a way he couldn’t really describe. She also had been nice to him. Flirty even, if he must believe MM’s taunt. She had looked at him like he wasn’t the monster he is, and he had been unsettled for a second. If he weren’t trying to lie to himself, he would recognize she reminded him of Becca.
It’s dark outside - he has lost track of time. All he knows is the feeling of power pulsing under his skin. And the girl, she smiles at him, she asks where the others are, she offers some food she brought back just for them. She still looks pretty. Still looks out of place in this rundown basement.
Are you okay? You look like you just snorted a kilo of cocaine. She quips, and he chuckles because her french accent makes everything she says sound so damn cute. Is that blood? Are you hurt? She adds when she gets closer, and he can see the faint freckles on her nose, the way her eyes grow big and concerned under her long lashes. Her hands find his chest, she wants to soothe him, to understand and to cure. The compound V is still thrumming in his body. He still has all this energy to spare. He doesn’t know how to cure that, until her lips fall on his.
It’s kind of a blur - experimental drugs will do that to you - but he’s now pressing her against the wall, kissing her senseless. He buries his face into her neck, getting drunk on her smell, something sweet and girlish, until he rucks her mini skirt up her thighs and drags his fingers against her clothed cunt. The fabric of her panty is damp, and he swears he can also smell this. He’s rock hard in his jeans, already leaking, like he’s a freaking teenager again. He snatches the fabric aside and gathers her slick before pressing circles into her little clit. She gasps and pants and it makes his ego swell. She grabs his arms as he pushes her even more against the wall, and he has to step back, let her breathe because he just forgot for a moment that he could crush her in a blink if he wanted to.
Please, Butcher She begs. He hates that she has to call him by this name, but it’s the only one she has for him. Still, he’s more than happy to comply, and to finally open his fly. He notices the way she tenses when she sees him. He’s never been this hard, this big, full of his drug-enhanced blood. He keeps his fingers on her clit, rubbing slow as he breaches her. He has to remind her to breathe and relax before he starts moving. He’s holding her, driving her up against the concrete. He can do that without breaking a sweat, without worrying his bad elbow will give out. She weighs nothing in his arms, it’s like carrying a cloud. She feels hot, scorching hot and tight and wet around his cock. He grinds his hips carefully, he wants to stay in control, to make it good for her, even though the green shit in his veins commands him to go fast and hard. Top take, to rip open, to not worry about the consequences.
**
She had always found him kinda hot. She finds everyone kinda hot actually, that’s her problem. But the first time she saw him, with his stupid grin and jerky attitude contrasting with his rugged appearance, she knew she was doomed. Butcher, two syllables that don’t try to sugar coat who he is. It’s not a hyperbole either. He has that violent aura, that assured bravado dipped in a very dark sense of humour. He also has the body count - in the very literal sense - to back it up. Everything about him screams danger, and the stories she heard should raise a thousand red flags. But she decided that he was too handsome to dwell on such consideration. It was actually part of the appeal. Her survival instinct was already fucked up, another dubious choice in her so called romantic life wouldn’t make a difference in the mess that was her existence.
The concrete wall is unforgiving for her back. She’s deliciously split open on his cock, pinned there with nowhere to go. He had swept her clean off her feet effortlessly. He looked buffed anyway, but she was not ready for this. Something was wrong with him. He was too quiet. There was a faint glimpse of too bright orange-y light in his eyes that wasn’t there before. He seemed on edge, ready to take on the world and to burst into tears at the same time. She wanted to help, as always.
He moves slowly, filling her so well, one of his hands between her legs, touching her where she needs it. Calloused fingertips on her tender flesh, the pressure perfect. It’s surprising because she thought he would be way rougher than he is - and she would have been happy with that. She could have dealt with the manhandling, and the quick fuck with no tomorrow. It would have been the perfect way to flush him out of her system. The almost-tenderness he’s displaying, the care, yet basic enough, he’s putting into this - she’s not sure she can process. She peers up at him with half hooded eyes, and he looks on the verge of crying. She surges forward, kissing his lips, drinking whatever sorrow is bothering him. She wants to help, as always.
***
Butcher keeps fucking her through the kiss, he licks into her mouth with a renewed hunger. She tastes like bubblegum and vodka, and it makes perfect sense with the rest of her. He tries to forget the sudden realisation she was the first girl he was sleeping with since Becca’s death. It had hit him from nowhere. Compound V has the nasty side effect of making you believe you’re unstoppable - that is until something you can’t break with your bare hands, like emotion or memory, comes back to bite you in the ass.
Butcher… butcher! She calls him back to reality. A pang of guilt crosses his face when he notices the way she’s huddled harshly between the wall and him, the thin tank top she’s wearing not enough to cushion the soft skin of her back from the hard concrete.
He mutters an apology and he carries her to the old couch below the dirty window. She’s still so light in his arms, she feels unreal. A ghost. An elaborate hallucination. Maybe he’s slowly losing his mind because of the greenish liquid sloshing in his skull. The only thing convincing him she’s somewhat true is her warmth, her smell, the soft noises she makes. It’s crazy how being a supe sharpens his senses until he can pick up the smell of her sweat under her perfume, of her wet cunt, until he can hear the slightest hitch in her breathing, the thump of her heart speeding up when he pushes inside her again.
Soft moans fill the room again as he rocks gently against her. Her hands are buried in his hair, grabbing at the luscious locks. She tugs at his scalp, bites his bottom lip, and snaps her own hips to take him further. He smiles against her neck as he understands what she needs.
‘You fancy it rougher, luv?   He whispers, voice hoarse with this heavy accent of his. She nods greedily. What a pretty dirty little thing you are He acknowledges, a hand collaring her neck, and her pussy clenches on his cock at this.
A grunt escapes his lips, something feral, almost victorious, as he feels the last surge of cursed power coursing through his body.
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quienesestanina · 2 years
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Anyone else thinks that the real reason Ryan decided to leave with Homelander was to protect Butcher? Like yes obviously Ryan really wants a father figure in his life but at this point, he know how bathshit crazy Homelander is. He saw him assault his mom on multiple occasions and he probably guessed that his conception wasn’t a happy one considering that his mom was married to someone else. I feel like Ryan knew that it would turn into a bloodbath and sacrificed himself by giving Homelander what he wanted the most aka a mini version of himself. I can’t wait to see how this all pans out in season 4
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enthusiastofshit · 1 year
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