Billy loves when you get cockdumb
you’re that fucked out that all you can do is smile as he pounds into you
asks you questions whilst your eyes glaze over, “what’ve ya been doin’ today then darlin’?” he doesn’t stop fucking you as he asks, smirking down at you as you try to process the question- swears he can see the cogs in your head turning
“i uh-oh fuck butch- i had a coffee with a friend”
“oh yeah? what kinda coffee did ya have, baby?”
he drags his hands down your damp body to grip your hips to fuck into you harder, when you don’t respond- he slaps your clit and has to grit his teeth when he feels you clench around him
“c’mon lovey, answer my questions or else i won’t let you come”
you start reeling off what you’ve done during the day through moans, half of it is gibberish because butcher’s cock is hitting your gspot perfectly
:) i need him so bad :)
mail-order bride x simon "ghost" riley masterlist
banner by @cynicalrosebud
this story is meant to be open-ended and vague. a collection of scenarios between simon and his mail-ordered bride.
cw: this piece isn't necessarily nsfw or dark, but i will not promise it won't contain these themes as these pieces are literally posted on the spot with random prompts (18+)
early delivery
no privacy
help wanted
get off my lawn
views
quiet hours
expectations
necessity
no past
laundry day
stars align
comfort place
summer heat
movie night
mirror thoughts
left behind
it's orange
oopsies
plan b
besties
lunch date
reality
dinner date
honesty
make a wish
open book
wants and needs
the same sky
no control
easy
show off
tactical
perfect height
too pretty
before
googly eyes
in every life
helping hand
a past life
#mail-order tag (lore + more lmao)
healing my inner child by binge watching LPS popular and letting me draw furries
I just remembered my second Pride, where I made different flag themed daisy chain bracelets/necklaces to hand out. I need folks to understand something:
They were free.
They were fucking free.
They were maybe ¢60 of acrylic yarn each at the most, and the whole ziploc bag of them took 2 hours max.
Three people gave me sad eyes until I took their money.
Someone who was clearly the mom friend of their group made me take a $5 and gave a 10 minute pep talk.
At least four more people insisted on getting change to pay for the, once again, free bracelets.
In spite of all these shenanigans, the absolute best was this one person who I can only describe as, “queer surfer dude who looks like a boyfriend who looks like a girlfriend.” I can remember nothing of the outfit, only the impeccable vibes. I did the same thing I did with everyone else, explaining the bracelets were free, and they nodded along as they took the last 6 strand rainbow bracelet. As soon as they had it on their wrist, they pointed at something over my shoulder and, like a fool, I looked.
Next thing I know, they’re running off cackling, yelling, “YOU’LL NEVER CATCH ME!” and I’m holding a fucking $20. I had to stop at least two people from chasing them, cause they thought the person stole something, and then they tried to give me money cause they thought it was funny seeing me flail over people being Too Nice.
That was the year I got reverse-robbed at Pride. I hope everyone out there is having a good time and, in particular, that queer surfer dude is out there still causing benevolent chaos.
(this got out of hand but heres some hcs i have that i like are pretty cool (probs pt. 1))
depending on the day, phoenix, skye, astra, chamber, kj, raze, neon, and reyna are completely non-understandable with their accents combined with their slang (this makes it terrible for anyone trying to talk to them about something important that day, especially when kj, raze, and skye are all hanging out together)
kj speaks in german whenever she's super mad but has also started to speak it more frequently after she teaches skye, raze, yoru, and cypher some german words (mainly curses or insults) [i had a friend whose family was Italian and she knew some words from it so she would teach us some of them. they were mainly curse words but it was funny when she called someone a bitch in Italian to their face during class]
phoenix, yoru, and jett all try to learn each other’s native languages (excluding phoenix). it takes them a while but they can at least understand them when it’s being spoken and can talk in basic sentence
people who can cook: skye, astra, cypher, brimstone, jett, sage, neon, omen, and sova
people who will cook when necessary but it is babysitter level of cooking: breach, yoru, viper, killjoy, and reyna
people who aren’t allowed to touch the kitchen with a ten-foot pole: phoenix, raze, KAY/O, chamber
the warm-up crew is a group that trains together a surprising amount
brim, sage, and viper usually train together (brim occasionally with breach)
when yoru, jett, and phoenix can’t sleep or get up early they go train together or, when they’re still up, sit and talk with kj and raze in their labs/the living area/or any of their rooms
phoenix will give anyone a hug (unless they say otherwise), usually side hugs but he’s almost always touching someone (jett or yoru mainly) in some way
(he stands close to people so their arms touch, he gives everyone a hug or high five when they leave, he ruffles yoru’s hair when he walks by or when he wakes up in the morning, he cuddles with jett and yoru whenever they’re sitting down together, he dances around with astra and neon after they make dinner, he shoves kj’s beanie down her head when they’re both stressed and tired, he flips jett’s hood up whenever he runs past and she’s stressed or upset since it makes her laugh, he flicks cyphers hat when they’re heading out on a mission)
skye always makes sure kj and raze go to sleep when she knows they'll be up late
those two care a lot about each other but they both have the unhealthy habit of locking themselves in their labs and messing around with gadgets. they used to have an alarm clock in there that brim got them so they wouldn't be in there for years, but it was destroyed after it scared kj so bad she wrecked her and raze's projects they've been working on for days
because she doesn't want kj and raze's projects to be ruined, skye always goes in quietly, sitting at one of the work stations or on a couch (that appears after several visits from skye, phoenix, jett, and yoru) and not speaking until one of the 2 notices her. she convinces them that they'll get more done/have more time if they sleep now and don't pass out and sleep for 2 days
skye, astra, and yoru talk to each other a lot, more than you would think
astra and yoru first became friends after they talked about their powers, since they both deal with dimensional stuff, yoru and skye became friends because they would both hangout when phoenix, jett, kj, and raze were on missions, practicing their flash aims. yoru introduced the two after he became a lot closer with them
astra and skye are both environmentalists and talk about the better ways they could fight and how to make the base more sustainable, which leads them (and neon and sage, sometimes yoru) to create a garden full of different plants from many people's home countries.
the garden becomes a community effort
kj and raze use spare/partly broken parts to make a sprinkler system
neon, jett, and brim use their plane to go and pick up supplies, since the base isn't really supplied for gardening
astra and skye plan everything out, and with the help of kj and viper, create the perfect place for it to be, close to the kitchen but still with plenty of light
viper modifies her poison walls and orbs to spray out water, which she gives to kj & raze on their sprinkler making journey
phoenix and yoru don't have any powers that help them with the gardening aspect, but phoenix burns away and dying or unnecessary plants in the building area while yoru uses his teleport to move supplies over
they have all the agents make a list of what they want to be grown in the garden. there's a big, ever-changing list in the kitchen that cypher updates when he gets confirmation that they can grow it and someone wants it
the garden ends up being multiple sections, each with its own climate to provide the best-growing environment for certain plants [it ends up being kind of like biosphere 2 if any of you know what that is/has been there]
after they set the garden up, agents can sign up to make food for the Protocol
astra shows phoenix how to make food from her home country
skye and brim have a bbq off
kj and raze swap recipes and meals, when they make them just for themselves
reyna signs up with raze one day and the kitchen somehow doesn’t explode, but they do end up making some fire food
skye/astra will bring the agents who are training/working food that’s comforting but also healthy so they don’t pass out
sage, jett, and neon make food for lunar new year and everyone thinks it’s amazing
all the agents have groups that they’ll train with/hang out after training with (like in warm up)
jett, phoenix, and yoru always train together, no matter who else joins
kj and raze train together a lot too, but raze will also train with reyna sometimes
skye trains with yoru a lot, as well as kj and raze. she’s trained with neon more recently
sage and viper train together a lot, as well as brim. these three train with omen a lot too, and brim with breach
sova trains with anyone who’s in the training room (mostly) but likes to train with phoenix and jett a lot (yoru’s growing on him)
sports are a big thing at the base, especially after phoenix joins (brim kept everything strictly professional before he joined but phoenix wore him down)
brim, neon, phoenix, jett, raze, and KAY/O all like basketball
viper, astra, phoenix, yoru, raze, skye, and reyna all like soccer
brim, KAY/O, and (eventually) breach all like baseball (KAY/O and breach mainly watch it cause brims watching it)
kj watches sports with raze & skye, but not usually on her own
sage, sova, skye, cypher, and kj all like watching non conventional sports like gymnastic, archery, track, etc. (mostly during the olympics)
chamber and omen don’t really watch sports but if it’s on then they’ll watch it
Things to keep in mind when building a character’s past/backstory:
Before plotting a character’s backstory- Ask yourself if it's relevant. Your story doesn't need unnecessary details that don't fuel the plot/character. Sometimes, a characters entire life story isn't what's best for the plot.
You don't need to know it all at once- The process is nonlinear/messy. It's okay to go back and forth.
Start with core memories- Smaller details can be great but it's easier to remember the big picture when you start with the corner pieces.
Timeline- use these core parts/events for your character to build a timeline to better understand the character/story.
Don't dump it all in one place- We don't need to know everything about a character in chapter one. Don't forget to put thought into how you present this information. Flashbacks, dialogue, and playing with transitions can make a memory more vivid.
USA people! Buy NOTHING Feb 28 2025. Not anything. 24 hours. No spending. Buy the day before or after but nothing. NOTHING. February 28 2025. Not gas. Not milk. Not something on a gaming app. Not a penny spent. (Only option in a crisis is local small mom and pop. Nothing. Else.) Promise me. Commit. 1 day. 1 day to scare the shit out of them that they don't get to follow the bullshit executive orders. They don't get to be cowards. If they do, it costs. It costs.
Then, if you can join me for Phase 2. March 7 2025 thtough March 14 2025? No Amazon. None. 1 week. No orders. Not a single item. Not one ebook. Nothing. 1 week. Just 1.
If you live outside the USA boycott US products on February 28 2025 and stand in solidarity with us and also join us for the week of no Amazon.
Are you with me?
Spread the word.
so in love with old man bf butcher. like u make fun of him for being an old man and he gets all huffy and rolls his eyes at u AHHH
"Y'so deep," you sob, words cut off by a pitched wine rolling up the back of your throat at an angled thrust.
"Yeah?" Butcher practically sneers from above you and you can hear the smirk in his voice. His bangs stick to his forehead and veins of his forearms bulge with ever movement he makes.
You nod, eyes fluttering shut.
"Yeah."
"Still think this old man can't give ya' what ya' need?"
Truthfully, you hadn't expected your own words to be thrown back at you – despite your obnoxious claim that 'he was too old to keep it up' was the whole reason the two of you were in this situation to begin with. You both knew there was no serious threat behind your words, you just wanted to rile him up.
His words send a shock of pleasure to your core and you instantly reach down to circle your clit only to have your wrist snatched away.
"Nuh uh." His eyes lid and he cocks his head to the side some, thrusting at a deeper angle.
You shake your head.
"Please–"
"Nope." He quiets you with a shake of his head, "you wanted to piss me off so yr'gonna take what I give you since you can't find it in yr'self to just tell daddy when y'miss him."
There's a layer of soft to his tone that makes your eyes tear up and legs go numb.
A whimper falls from your lips and Butcher moves to throw your leg over to rest in the crook of his elbow, opening you up.
You gasp at the sensation and the older man chuckles above you.
"Thaaats it. Right there, huh."
"Yes, daddy. Yes." You nod, lashes strewn together by the wet of your tears.
He gives you a particularly rough thrust that has your head falling back against his pillows and your toes curling.
"Hey," he's quick to slip a hand under the nape of your neck, tilting your head back forwards, "Eyes open, keep 'em on me."
The stretch of his cock rubbing against your gummy walls has your eyes fluttering closed and your legs shaking in Butcher's hold.
Butcher taps the plush of your thigh and you open your eyes in response, doing your best to make him proud under the intensity of it all.
"C'mon, love, ya'got it – There she is," he soothes, meeting your swollen lips in a gentle kiss as he ruts into you to the hilt.
The intimacy paired with the intensity of it all has you shivering and sobbing into his mouth, grabbing at any part of him that you can in hopes of grounding yourself.
"Butcher, please–" your voice breaks into a sob when he hikes your other leg over his shoulder and sinks his length to the base inside of you.
"Oh shit." Butcher groans, dropping his head to look at the way your cunt swallows his length whole.
Eyes rolling back and cunt quivering pathetically, you let out a broken gasp.
"I can't, oh my god."
Butcher doesn't shed any more time before he's thrusting into you so deep and at such a rough angle that you're nearly seeing stars.
"M'gonna cum," you manage, biting weakly at the skin of his forearm.
"Yr'okay, cum fr'me, dollface."
UH OH, WE’RE IN TROUBLE 18+
sub prison!butcher x jersey wife reader
(A/N) hellooo fellow butcher’s bitches! This chapter is part of the prison!butcher x jersey wife au @sickforbillybutcher/ @foxiewrites and i came up with. if you haven’t checked out the rest of this au i highly suggest you do, i’ve reblogged all parts under the tag:
#prison!billy butcher so you should be able to find them if you search that on my blog. enjoy reading love u all so much thank you sm for all your support on the last kessler fic 🥹
(cw: slightly sub butcher, violence, mention of severe injury, prison/hospital setting, teasing, handjob, sneaky/risky sexual activities, pregnancy, i think that’s it)
Billy Butcher stood in the dim, cold corner of the prison yard, the relentless hum of the razor wire above adding to the tension. His knuckles tightened as he slipped a few crumpled bills into the waiting hand of a massive, tattooed inmate.
“Make it bloody,” Billy growled, his eyes hard as steel. “Like I got in over me head.”
The brute nodded, a cruel grin spreading across his face as he pocketed the cash. “Got it, Butcher.”
Billy turned, bracing himself for the pain that was about to come. He’d taken worse beatings, no doubt, but this one had a purpose—one that made every bruise and broken bone worth it. The thought of seeing Dollface, even if it meant being shackled to a hospital bed, made his heart pound in a way that surprised him.
He gritted his teeth as the first punch landed squarely on his jaw, the taste of blood filling his mouth instantly. The second and third punches came quick, his ribs cracking under the force. Billy staggered, but stayed upright, spitting blood onto the cold concrete.
He wasn’t thinking about the pain or the grunts of the other inmates watching the spectacle. His mind was on Dollface. On the way she’d looked the last time he saw her, all cheetah print and big hair, with that fiery Jersey attitude he couldn’t get enough of.
The thought of her carrying his child—a bloody nugget, of all things—was a mix of pride and terror that he couldn’t shake. He’d never imagined himself as a father, especially not in a place like this. His own father was a right bastard, and the idea that he could turn out the same kept him awake at night more than the guards’ shouts or the clanging of cell doors.
The final blow sent him to the ground, gasping for breath, his vision blurry. The brute stepped back, admiring his handiwork as the guards rushed in, yelling and pushing the crowd back.
Billy smirked through the pain, coughing up more blood as they cuffed him. “Bloody hell… ’bout time,” he muttered, just loud enough for the nearest guard to hear.
The hospital was a grim, sterile place, but it was better than the cell, he thought as they wheeled him into the small, dimly lit room.
Dollface’s hands shook as she clutched her phone, the guard’s gruff voice still echoing in her ears. “Your husband’s been hurt—he’s in the hospital.” The words sliced through her like a knife. The second she hung up, she was out the door, nearly knocking over a potted plant in her rush. Her heart pounded as she navigated the chaotic streets of Jersey, each red light and slow driver adding to her panic.
By the time she arrived at the hospital, her hands were sweating, and her throat was dry. She shoved past the automatic doors, her designer leather cheetah-print bag swinging wildly at her side as she made a beeline for the front desk.
“Billy Butcher, I’m his wife” she gasped, barely able to catch her breath. “Where the hell is he?”
The nurse looked up, startled by the sudden appearance of a frantic, visibly distressed woman, and quickly typed into her computer. “He’s in room 306. But ma’am, I have to—”
Dollface didn’t wait for the nurse to finish. She bolted down the hall, the sterile smell of antiseptic and the flickering fluorescent lights doing nothing to calm her nerves. She could feel her heart in her throat, pounding so hard she thought it might burst.
Finally, she reached his room. Her hands were trembling as she pushed the door open, her eyes immediately locking onto Billy, lying in the hospital bed, bruised and battered but somehow still managing to smirk at her like he hadn’t just scared her half to death.
“Jesus Christ, Billy,” she breathed, rushing to his side. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she hesitated for a moment before gently touching his bruised face. “What the hell happened to ya?”
Billy grunted, shifting slightly under the weight of the shackles that bound him to the bed. “Ah, you know, love. Got into a bit of a scrap, that’s all.”
“Scrap?” she echoed, her voice cracking as she took in the cuts and bruises marring his skin. “You look like you got run over by a fucking truck—“
He chuckled, wincing slightly as the movement sent a jolt of pain through his ribs. “Don’t worry ’bout me, Trouble. Just shattered me collarbone and fractured me clavicle, should be fine. Takes more than a few punches to put me down.”
Dollface shook her head, her worry deepening as she sat down beside him, her fingers curling around his hand. “FRACTU— are you kidding me?!? I swear to god if you don’t get yourself killed i’ll do it myself—“ She hics out a broken sob, covering her mouth and looking away trying to cool her temper. “T-this isn’t funny, Billy. I was so terrified when they called. Thought I was gonna lose ya.”
He squeezed her hand, his rough fingers brushing against her soft skin. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere, love. Not when I’ve got you and the little one waitin’ for me.”
At that, her eyes welled up with more tears, but she blinked them away, determined not to let him see her cry. She reached up, clutching the gold cross around her neck and kissing it softly before leaning down to press it to his forehead. “You better not. You’re stuck with us now.”
Billy’s gaze softened as he watched her, the fierce determination in her eyes reminding him why he was doing this—why he had put himself through this pain. He needed to see her, to touch her, to remind himself that there was something worth fighting for outside of those cold, grey walls.
For a few moments, they just sat there, her hand in his, the room filled with a quiet understanding between them. He could see the toll this was taking on her, the constant worry, the stress of being pregnant while her husband was locked up in a place like that.
He swallowed hard, the usual bravado slipping as he looked up at her. “I’m sorry, Dollface. For puttin’ ya through all this shite.”
She shook her head again, squeezing his hand even tighter. “Don’t apologize, Billy. Just… just promise me you’ll be careful. I can’t do this without ya.”
He nodded, his eyes locking onto hers. “I promise, love. I’ll be more careful. For you… and for” He takes a deep breath and glances down at her increasingly by the day pudgy, slightly round tummy. His eyes light up and he smirks before looking back up into her eyes.
Dollface’s lips quivered into a small smile, and she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “We’re gonna get through this, Billy. No matter what.”
He returned the kiss, lingering just a moment longer, as if trying to memorize the feel of her, the taste of her, before they had to part again. “Damn right we will.”
She rested her forehead against his, her free hand coming up to gently stroke his cheek. “I love ya, you stubborn bastard.”
“Love ya too, Dollface,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
They stayed like that for a while, her sitting by his side, caressing his hand and occasionally kissing his calloused, bruised, bloodying knuckles. She whispered reassurances to him, telling him about how Nonna couldn’t wait to meet her great-grandchild, how she’d already started knitting baby clothes even though they didn’t know the gender yet.
Billy listened, a small smile playing on his lips as he let her words wash over him, grounding him in a way that nothing else could. It didn’t matter that he was in chains or that the world outside this room was a mess. All that mattered was that she was here, with him, and that soon enough, they’d have a little shite of their own to look after.
And for now, that was enough.
The hospital room was bathed in the soft, eerie glow of the moonlight streaming through the small window, casting long shadows on the floor. It had been hours since the last nurse had come in, and the clock on the wall ticked quietly, marking the passage of time. Dollface had been biding her time, heart pounding as she listened for the telltale sounds of the guard’s footsteps echoing down the hall.
She’d crafted a plan—risky, sure, but worth it. When one of the officers had stepped out earlier in the evening, she’d quickly slipped into the small utility closet in Billy’s room, holding her breath as she crouched in the dark, hidden among the brooms and cleaning supplies. She waited, every creak of the floorboards outside sending her heart racing, but she stayed quiet, biding her time until the hospital settled into the stillness of night.
Now, as she cautiously cracked open the closet door, her eyes locked onto Billy’s figure, still lying in the bed, his chest rising and falling slowly. She moved silently, her heart in her throat, every nerve on edge as she slipped out of the closet and crossed the room. She knew there were at least two guards outside, but she was banking on the fact that they wouldn’t expect anyone to pull something like this.
Billy stirred slightly as she approached, his eyes fluttering open. The moment he saw her, a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. “What’re you up to now, Trouble?” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly.
She held a finger to her lips, silently telling him to be quiet as she reached his side. “Couldn’t leave ya all alone in this shithole, could I?” she whispered back, her voice barely above a breath. She slid her hand under the blanket, finding his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Billy’s eyes darkened with a mixture of amusement and something else, something that made Dollface’s pulse quicken. “Ya know there’s guards right outside, yeah?” he murmured, his voice hushed but tinged with that familiar teasing edge.
She smirked, her fingers brushing up along his arm, over the muscles that tensed beneath her touch. “That ever stopped me before?” she whispered, leaning in closer, her breath warm against his ear. “Thought ya knew me better than that, Billy.”
His breath hitched slightly as her hand trailed up, slipping under the blanket and higher up his thigh. He shifted slightly, the chains clinking softly, his body instinctively responding to her touch despite the circumstances. “Fuuuckin’ gonna be the death of me, Dollface,” he muttered, though the smirk on his lips told her he didn’t mind one bit.
Dollface chuckled softly, her hand continuing its slow, deliberate journey, teasing him just enough to drive him mad without giving him what he wanted. “Maybe,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his neck. “But at least you’ll go out with a smile on your face, yeah?”
Billy’s eyes closed for a moment, his breath coming in shallow as she continued to tease him, her fingers dancing along his skin, sending shivers down his spine. “Always playin’ so damn dangerous—” he warned, though his voice was rougher now, tinged with anticipation.
Dollface pulled back slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked down at him. “You know I like to live dangerously,” she replied, her voice low and seductive. She leaned in, her lips barely brushing against his, teasing him further. “Why do you think I married you?”
He growled softly, his free hand coming up to cup the back of her neck, pulling her in closer. “Damn right ya do” he whispered, his lips hovering just inches from hers.
For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Dollface could feel the heat of his body through the thin hospital blanket, the anticipation coiling in her stomach like a spring ready to snap.
She licked her lips, her hand slipping further up his thigh, her touch light and teasing, drawing a low groan from Billy’s throat. “You just gonna lie there all night? Or are ya gonna let your wife make you feel good? What other chance do you have?” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath against his lips.
Billy’s eyes flashed with dark desire, his grip tightening on her as he pulled her in, his lips capturing hers in a fierce, hungry kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through her entire body. Dollface moaned softly into his mouth, her hand moving higher under the blanket, earning another low, rumbling growl from deep in his chest.
As they kissed, Dollface could feel the heat between them building, her body responding to him in ways that made her feel alive, reckless, and completely out of control. She broke the kiss just long enough to murmur, “You sure you can handle this, Butchie? I swear to god- the officers are right outside, you don’t make a fucking sound, you hear me?” She whispers
Billy smirked against her lips, his voice rough with desire as he replied, “Oh, I’m bloody well countin’ on it, love.”
A smirk spreads across her face, she palms him over the papery fabric of the hospital gown before letting her hand under it, only lingering on his upper thick muscular thigh. His breath trembles, it’s been way too fucking long.
Way too fucking long since he’d felt her nimble, skilled, manicured fingers wrapped around his thick cock, working him up and down til he spurted rope after rope of his warm white seed onto his taught stomach, getting all over her hands.
He missed everything about this, about you. His big clumsy hands would never ever measure up to how your hands feel pumping him up and down. So as her hand made it’s way higher and higher up his thigh, she finally wrapped your fingers around him.
She lets out a chuckle as you feel how fucking hard he is. She’d barely just gotten her fist around it and it was already throbbing desperately, you swipe your thumb over the head of his tip wiping up the small little white bead of precum
She bite your lip, giggling “Someone’s already excited, hm?”
Butcher’s throat makes a tiny little high pitched whine, his breath catching at the teasing swipe of her thumb over his tip. He digs his teeth into his bottom lip, muffling himself from making any further noise “Fuuuckin’ christ onna stick, luv—“
He whispers. She chuckles, her other hand reaching up to clasp over his mouth.
She squeezes her fist around his cock tighter now, slowly beginning to flick her wrist up and down. Butcher huffs out a breath, head lolling to the side to look at you as he scrunches his eyes closed. your hand works quicker on his hard, wet cock, urging him closer and closer to his release. you watch as Butch opens his mouth slightly, eyebrows furrowing as he lets out a puff of air while trying to conceal his noises. he looked so pretty like that, sweat gathering on his forehead as he continues to let moans pour from his lips.
He never let it go like this before, he was always in control, something about having him get like this for you got you going.
“mmh, that feel good?” you ask, tilting your head as you stay seated next to him by the bed. he licks his lips, eyes hooded as they slowly open before fluttering back closed as you press your thumb harder against his tip. “come on, answer me, handsome.”
he groans, biting his lower lip so hard it starts to become sore, drawing a little bit of blood. he can taste it in his mouth, making him let out a soft whimper that travels through the air. and he hopes you didn’t hear it, but you definitely did judging by the smirk on your face as you work your hand faster, also basically slapping your palm over his mouth trying to get him to shut the fuck up. as much as you wanted to hear him whimper like that for you again, now was not the time or place. he slightly bucks his hips up, gasping when you flick your wrist and add wonderful pressure to his tip that causes him to become weak in your hands.
“i asked you a question,” you use your other hand that wasn’t on his cock to grip his chin, a stern expression on your face.
he gasps, “yes, fuck yes trouble— feels so .. s-so good.” his voice becomes deeper, trailing away from him the more he talks as his words fade into nothing but muffled moans underneath your palm. he looks so fucking pretty like that, too. his hair was becoming matted, sticking to his forehead as sweat covered him all over. he was glistening, beautiful under the soft moonlight showing through the window.
you tilt your head, your hand clasped over his mouth like that, looking at his lips as he licks them, “Missed my hands, Butchie?” he stutters at the nickname, groaning as he presses his heels into the mattress and thrashes beside you. the cocky look in your eyes makes him whine again. “so desperate for me,” you click your tongue at him.
Butcher swears he’s never felt so damn good before. he wasn’t used to you being so demanding and dominate. it was making him lose his mind, unable to stop the bucking of his hips as he uncontrollably starts basically fucking your hand.
you raise an eyebrow, “wanna fuck my hand, hm? come on, baby.” you kiss his neck, trailing your kisses there before leaving a bruise on his collarbone, smiling at your work. “fuck my hand, since ya can’t have my pussy, fuck it like it is my pussy” She bites her lip tightly, god how she wanted to say fuck all this and hop on top of him, ride him until the sun rose. but that was too complicated, too much of a liability.
he gasps, and his hands tug desperately at the sheets below him, “c-close.. fucking bollocks— I’m gonna blow Doll—” his voice becomes a little more high pitched, but it sends a rush down to your abdomen and makes you clench your thighs together. Butcher doesn’t see it, though. too focused on his needed high.
you tighten your grip on his cock, making him spiral and you watch as his knuckles turn white while he humps up into your grip, “gonna cum, baby? come on, you can cum, Butchie. make a mess all over your pretty tummy and my hand.”
“cumming, i’m.. fucking cumming,” he groans, a long drawn out moan of your name leaving his lips, even if it’s barely heard by the tight grip of your hand over his mouth as he releases all over himself, his hips stuttering and slowing down. you grip him tightly, watching as his cum flows over your hand too. you smile to yourself, seeing his head thrown back and his eyes shut closed. you bring your cum covered hand to your lips, running a finger across your plump red painted lips. he hums, opening his eyes as you take your fingers into your mouth and licking them dry. you lick your lips, leaning in for a kiss. he easily accepts you, one of his hands reaching for the back of your neck and deepening the kiss. you can taste his cum, slightly bitter, but you don’t mind. not for as long as it’s him. the kiss was messy, all over the place, but you loved it anyway.
when you pull away, he’s gasping for air and looking at you with hooded eyes, “i fuckin’ love you sweetheart”
you chuckle, “i love you, too, Butch”
CW: 18+ MDNI, mech!ghost x pilot!reader, scifi, noncon/dubcon elements, guided masturbation, tempature play, voyeurism - 1.6K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune
Another long night in the cockpit.
You could only grin and bear it at this point. Reaching compatibility with your assigned vessel was slowly eating away at your psyche- and worst of all, you couldn’t even leave; not when your prospected affinity levels with the infamous machine had been deemed unprecedented, and certainly not when you knew what happened to deserters.
Conscription was non-negotiable these days; the large colony you had grown up in now ravaged by some otherworldly force and desperately bleeding out resources in response, be it weaponry, rations, or bodies.
The faction had been gifted the GH-05t Mech as an act of goodwill, but ask any official and you’d be informed that the powerful, unused machine would serve better as scrap parts- the real kicker being that they were no longer equipped with the resources or the manpower to dismantle the damned thing.
GH-05t was a battle vessel; had been lauded as a ground-breaker and a boundary-pusher with the integration of an intelligent battle protocol system, all trained posthumously off the stored memories of some long-dead pilot, surely without his consent- Simon, they had named it in an attempt to make it more user friendly and assistant-like in nature.
Hubris. The system failed to run, turning the fully-functional mech into a glorified mountainous paperweight due to all of the instrumental functions being locked behind unresponsive intelligence. You speculated that the machine had passed hands to save face- to keep the public hopeful despite the system refusing to wake up.
-Wake up. You groaned, slapping lightly at your face.
You hated it here, longing for lazy days on the bleak outer walls, surrounded by the buzz of cicadas and rustling long grass as you waited for your father to get back from the drillsite. Your parents had been so proud when officials showed up at your dilapidated front porch, neat suits, shining eyes, and big smiles blissfully ignoring the very same surroundings they had left to rot; all while you reeled internally- shaken by the worst news you had received in your life. It was a death sentence.
It had been years since that day, and you were absolutely sure you had only been given a position like this because of some made-up numbers all while they tried to remind you that you were special, somehow different from your peers.
All damned to the same fate in your eyes.
“-load of shit.” you hissed, rubbing at the uncomfortable neuro-valve hooked into the back of your flight suit. Frustrated, you kicked at the mechanical console snug against your leg, the low rumbling whirr of the machine staying the same in response- apathetic to your misdirected rage.
A moment passed before you finally leaned back in your seat with a grimace.
You still weren’t used to the flight suits in the mech pilot regs. You almost missed the starchy cargo pants that were worn throughout training- both had been unbearably stiff, but at least the latter hadn’t been so form-fitting.It always freaked you out a bit; the pilot suits were more akin to sleek exodermis, responsive and shock absorbent- It felt wrong to have something so foreign covering your entire body; unnatural.
Your hips squirmed in the seat, friction suddenly becoming apparent the more you thought about it. The low tone of your monitored vitals raised gradually with the fuzzy heat beginning to shamefully pool in your gut; making you all too glad these late night bonding-sessions were done in an all but abandoned mech bay- your observed progress dwindling along with your prospects as time went on without result.
Grinding into the seat, you swallowed back the thick saliva coating your mouth, teeth catching on your dry bottom lip as you held back a low, audible shudder; eyes fluttering shut.
The bulky panel separating your legs became all too appealing as you acknowledged the press of it at your sealed cunt, nudging your apex into the blunt peak while your gloved hands curled around the padding of the built-in armrests.
Then, there was a pulse at your core.
Eyes snapping open, you became all too aware that the sensation hadn’t come from your body. Straightening up in your seat you were met with a dull blinking text on the panel that had never been there before-
‘Battle Intelligence System
STATUS: LOADING’
You were rooted in place as you witnessed the glowing, digital bar slowly fill.
‘Battle Intelligence System
STATUS: ONLINE’
You scrambled to pull at the neuro-valve connecting your suit to the mech, only for the small port’s flight locks to engage; a stark hiss emitting from the cockpit door’s airlock.
“Disengage locks.” you commanded, completely lost on what was happening.
There was a low, fractured robotic groan directly in your comms “-Fuck…” the voice was deep, aggressively masculine and breathy in your ear- the sound holding more human emotion than you were prepared to rationalize. “Where am I?”
“-Disengage locks.” you repeated firmly.
“What the fuck is this?” he snarled, apparently coming to as he barked out questions, disoriented. “-Who are you- why are you in m’head- Fuck, why can’t I see?”
Your suit was flexing and constricting, going haywire in the confusion. “C-calm down!” you stuttered, a pendulum in your head swinging between gripping dread and the low, heady heat of unmet needs. “Just-Just let me see if I can fix this.”
Panting shakily, you swiped at the flight panel’s screen- spotting something containing the words ‘optical’ and ‘sensors’, you tapped frantically.
There was an audible wince deep in your ear, then a growling hum met with silence.
“I’m dead, aren’t I?”
“-You’re a memory bank- not a person.” you asserted, clarification necessary when it came to a massive mobile death machine.”c-can you lay off the suit, please?”
A pulsing wave passed the length of your suit as he listened to your embarrassed response over the comms, the sound of his voice bouncing around in your head. “Fuck, bet tha’ feels nice, yeah?”
A whine bubbled at your lips before you could stop it. “I- You’re not l-listening, Simon.”
There was a long silence following your plea- air electric and tense.
“Tha’ name- How do you know it?”
“N-not the point!” you argued, only to be met with a full body squeeze- a threat. “-It’s the name of the o-operating system! P-please!”
He relented, your chest heaving as your muscles released tension.
“Well, if you know me...”
The screen flashed with a notice.
‘[Main Cockpit Camera Feed - Status: Active]’
Followed by another
‘[Manual Override - Feed Transmission Blocked]’
“-Keep things between us, yeah?”
Your head swivelled around to look for a camera, landing on a lackadaisical red blink coming from right above the reinforced windshield.
“You're a sight, aren’t you?" listening closely, you could hear the audible scroll of the lens focusing.
You frowned. “Let me out-”
You gasped as a cold heat focused at your core, reminding you that your suit’s temperature regulating measures were completely under his control. “-No need for fuss, we were just getting t’know each other.”
“Th…” you paused, panting softly. “-This doesn’t make any sense.”
“What’s not to get, Love?” there was a pause as your seat adjusted forward, bumping your cunt into the console. “Give us a show, yeah?”
You whimpered in response, pressure unbearable.
“Look at you.” he snarled, the deep sound goading your rocking hips onward. “Fuck- Wish I could taste you…”
There was a small noise from the screen that had your heavy lids pulling upwards- database bringing up the low-res file of a soldier.
“-Look at the man doing this to you, love.”
Your lips parted, eyebrows drawing downwards in confusion as you looked at the attached image; a masked man with voids for pupils staring back at you.
“Y-You’re not-” you gasped as a concentrated cold rushed your breast, nipples pearling up uncomfortably at the sensation- the friction of your undergarments and the newly dropping temperatures sending your head soaring as your hips worked at grinding into the blunt metal.”-not r-real.”
“-I am.” His voice was a sharp, humorous growl that threatened you to challenge his word, followed by a single deep laugh. “Eyes up- on me, love.”
Your head bobbed as you glanced lazily at the file, unable to make any sense of the written data- not that it mattered anyway.
“Think you can finish for me?”
The suit pulsed rhythmically as you practically humped your seat with eyes screwed shut, the humiliation of your current position itching at something unfamiliar deep in your abdomen. With flushed cheeks, you chased the bubbling pot that made a home in your gut; willing it to boil over.
“Look at me.” he ordered. “Need you to look at me.”
Glancing at the screen in a haze, the exomuscles of your suit flexed in response.
“No- Up.”
your head shot towards the camera, holding contact with the whirring lens as the overstimulation finally became too much- pussy fluttering in euphoria with elbows bracing you, hips pathetically grinding out the high.
Struggling to catch your breath, you slumped back into the chair- gears adjusting your seat back into a comfortable position.
“Good.” the voice in your ear barked, before lowering incrementally. “-Good…”
The screen lit up with a notice that compatibility requirements had been met- although it didn't mean much to you in your state; chest heaving slowly while you tried to make sense of what happened.
“Gonna’ let you out- but this has got to stay our secret, yeah?”
You swallowed, eyelids tugging open as your suit tensed in warning.
“How copy?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Good,” he paused. “-don't need anyone but you poking around up here.”
🧃🧃🧃
i started using nomad sculpt less than 24 hours ago, so i’m not very good at it lol
but i made this little devil guy, and i think that’s ok :)
MDNI 21 // she // black // arcane // cod // this is where I keep my junk,
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