Warnings: My fics, especially when they involve Butcher, are DARK AS FUCK. Read at your own risk.
Tags: We need a Butcher Brainrot Resurrection… @scrmqwn @rustanddusted @butchersboobs @dumpy-little-nobody @muldermuse @bobabilbil @bimboyaoi let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future Butcher fics!
“Sorry about what I said in there, Lou.” You mumble, gratefully taking the offered jacket and wrapping it around yourself. Once the fun of the alcohol and heat of the bodies inside were removed, that tank top you were barely pulling off as a dress wasn’t doing you any favors. You smile sheepishly up at the bouncer, a large man with a bald head and permanent frown.
He chuckled, an instant change coming over him with the laughter. Eyes crinkling at the sides. “I’ve heard worse. Be best to listen after the first round of ice cubes gets thrown at ya.”
You give him a half-hearted salute with two fingers and return to scanning the empty parking lot, the dead streets, waiting for -
SCREECH! THUMP!
A crooked smile cracked across your face as a beat-up old black Caddy peeled into the lot, hitting the speed bump without slowing a fraction.
“Is this your ride?” Lou asked, straightening up a bit as his eyes assessed the new arrival, chin lifted in an attempt to look threatening. Like that would ever work with this guy-
“Yeah,” You say, wicked glittering in your eyes as you watched him storm his way up to where you slumped on the sidewalk, hair messed, eyes squinting through the need for sleep, filthy trench coat over nothing but boxers, boots untied and clomping against asphalt. “That’s my Uncle.”
“Alrigh’ what’s this, then?”
You play up your imbalance a bit, gesturing to your barely-clad from beneath the bouncer’s oversized jacket, eyes bloodshot and blinking lazily up at him. It’s Lou who speaks up, ever the responsible employee.
“Your… niece ignored several warnings to tone it down in there. Had a few choice words for me, so I threw her out before anyone called the cops.”
At the word “niece” his dark eyes snapped to you - not a discernible change for anyone who didn’t know him like you did, but you saw the way they swirled just a bit darker, the storm within rumbling a little deeper.
”The fuck ya expect lettin’ ‘em waltz in lookin’ like this? Preventable wiv a bit of a dress code, mate.” Billy Butcher, your “Uncle” (he wasn’t really), practically ripped the jacket from you, shoving your wobbling ass towards his idling car, cigarette grit between his teeth, puffing heavily and grumbling about being woken up.
He wasn’t really bothered by your choice of attire; that much was obvious when you crawled across the bench seat of his Caddy through the driver’s door, top bunching up enough to give him a full view of your ass in your thong - you’d chosen the lacy red one for tonight; a forethought you pat yourself on the back for in that moment - and he gave a grumbling “Jus’ get the fuck in the car like yer normal, yeah?”
”Uncle Billy,” You whine, dragging out the “y” in his name extra as you flop over onto the passenger side of the bench, attempting to tug the hem of your top down enough to cover your hips. It didn’t quite make it. “I’m hungry.”
”One time I told ya to call me that, when you was four, mind, and ya never fuckin’ let it go.” He muttered, slamming the door closed behind him and purposefully avoiding putting his hands anywhere near your bare feet beside him, purposefully avoiding looking anywhere near your lounging, liquidy form as he drove.
It was true; he attempted to be something more than he was when he first met you. All your Dad’s friends had in the beginning. But if there was one thing about Joseph Kessler and his group, it was that they weren’t fit to raise a little girl dropped on their doorstep. And the “Uncle” thing? Knowing it poked at this man you’d been crushing on for years? Yeah, you weren’t letting it go. He was fun to tease and play with, which was why you called him to pick you up.
“Why didn’ ya call Joe?” Butcher asked you, eyes hyper-focused on the road ahead. No one ever called Joe your “Dad”. Not even you at this point. He’d never been that, and that suited you just fine.
You shrug. “He’s at Diane’s again. Didn’t wanna interrupt.”
One of his thick dark eyebrows raised, crinkling his forehead. You could make out all the wrinkles even in the dim passing strips of light from street lamps. “An’ ya weren’ concerned none about interruptin’ me?”
Your toes wiggled their way beneath his trench coat to poke at his bare side, earning a grunt from him. “Was I?” When he said nothing, just scowled harder at the road, you did your best to stifle a giggle. You poked him with your toe again, harder this time. Amping up your whine just a bit. “I’m hungry. Some food would help me sober up.”
Butcher scoffed. Sober up? He’d give you a proper fuckin’ happy meal, if that’s what you wanted.
And that’s how you ended up parked just outside the drive thru where you could have gotten some real food, Caddy bouncing and metal groaning obnoxiously in the late hours of the night. You were on all fours - if you could call it that. It was more like you were shoved face and hands against the foggy window of the car, clothes and undergarments shoved to the sides in haste, the slop slop slop of your pussy drenching Billy Butcher’s thick, uncut cock with each powerful thrust.
You were gasping, forehead bumping harsh against the glass, hands sliding helplessly as you tried to grab hold of something, anything to steady yourself. He made sure to wrap one of his warm giant hands around your chin to pull your head back, arch you so he could see your face melt in pleasure, the drunken brat getting pounded right out of you.
“One more time, yeah? Lemme ‘ear it.”
If such a place existed, you were solidifying your spots in hell when you both came around your cries of “Uncle Billy”, face smushed against the glass as Butcher fell forward over you, enveloping you with his sweaty body, scratchy beard sending shocks through your sensitive system as he rubbed it along your bare shoulder.
Before he dropped you off at home, he did get you a burger, but you refused his offer of a full meal, claiming you were already quite full; you had your prize inside leaking out between your legs onto the seats of his Caddy.
going a tad bit insane thinking about fem!sam/male!ruby and how much worse dean’s reaction would be if his little sister got tainted by another man (who’s also a demon)
