Fanfiction Request for @dindjarins04
Creatures Of Habit (The Boys)
Pairing: jealous!butcher x fem!reader
Explicit Sex including fingering / oral / penetrative / choking / biting / ice play
Alcohol
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The heat in New York was suffocating. Lungs choked on the heavy black pollution emitted from exhaust pipes, and clammy hands met damp handkerchiefs in futile attempts to wipe sweat from foreheads. Rivulets of sweat trickled down every body that moved through the streets, every body except Riva’s. She leant against the dusty brick wall of an apartment complex, occasionally sipping from the paper cup that held surprisingly still hot coffee. Riva was perhaps the only person for miles dressed in a vest, cargo pants and a leather jacket. In fact, you could scour the entirety of the city and not find a single person wearing more than one layer, bar Riva.
When she was young, her epithet had been Riva fire-kissed, partially in jest of her red hair but partially in faith due to the commune she spent her childhood in. Riva had never known a time when she didn’t possess her powers, able to regulate her body temperature at will with a mastery over fire and heat. Not only could Riva produce her own fire, but she could also control any form of heat, such as movement. It had made for an interesting time navigating the sin she felt most closely aligned with. Wrath was something that had to be under careful control at all times, lest she accidentally boil someone alive. Yes, boil. Boil was the method that happened when she lost control. Burning people to death was much easier in Riva’s mind, watching their fragile forms desiccate into ash without a flicker of emotion. Perhaps the latter was a lie, in truth it was less a case of feeling nothing and more a case of feeling entirely numb. She’d become so accustomed to grief that she’d become a master of suppressing it, much to the annoyance of Hughie who’d been trying to get her to open up for several weeks now.
Riva was on scout duty, a task that felt more like a chore than a thing of actual interest or purpose. It had come about that she was on scout duty for the fourth time that week due to a disagreement with Butcher. At least that’s what Riva called it, MM had referred to it as a ‘fucking shitshow’, but then again he did use that phrase for most inconveniences. This morning, Hughie had attempted to convince the two to apologise to each other, which had gone about as well as a toddler driving an SUV. Riva had stubbornly stomped across the dank basement to Butcher, squared up to him and snarled,
“Sorry you’re so fucking stupid.”
Which had been met with the reply, “Sorry you’re a fuckin’ cunt.”
To which Riva had retorted, “For a man who says cunt a lot, it’s not like you get any.”
At this point, Frenchie had stepped in, placatingly saying, “Let’s all just calm down, this is clearly a misunderstanding and I think you two need some space.”
Butcher had let out a grunt and pressed his finger into Frenchie’s chest, “It’s not a misunderstanding, it’s me telling you all the plan and this fucking moron blowing it to hell.”
“I did not blow it to hell, your plan was filled with holes and if it wasn’t for me Hughie would have lost his arm!” Riva shouted, before staggering backwards as Butcher strode towards her, backing her up against the grimy wall.
His voice dropped to a low rumble, as he whispered quietly, “I gave you an order and you disobeyed me. Because of your fuck up, I have this.” He jerked his thumb to his neck, where a hairline thick scar lay, courtesy of Black Noir’s blade.
“It’s not my fault you confused bravery with stupidity.” Riva hissed back, dropping her voice to a barely audible volume she added, “Maybe that’s why you lost her.”
On reflection, Riva realised that probably wasn’t the ideal thing to say to her new boss stroke acquaintance. Generally it was never a good idea to throw the insult of a dead wife in someone’s face, but Riva had succumbed to her temper, unable to keep it on a leash. What happened next had surprised her, Butcher and Riva had fought many times over the past three months. Scrapping in the basement whilst he had her in a chokehold, which followed with her foot finding purchase in his groin. They’d been surprisingly evenly matched given Riva’s supernatural strength. But then, it was rarely her strength that she deployed. Why punch someone in the face when you could melt the flesh from their bones?
Instead, Butcher had chosen to walk away silently. Before pointing to the stairs and muttering, “Scout duty, full day.”
Which was how Riva had found herself here, watching sweaty bodies make their way through New York streets as she kept a close eye on A-Train’s comings and goings. He’d dipped down a side street a few hours ago, and had slipped into a grungy graffitied door which Riva knew to be a twenty-four hour night club. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, mildly irritated that he was still there. How long did one need to spend in a grimy club on a Thursday afternoon?
Compound V. That’s what jolted Riva back to her purpose. The whispers of Compound V had grown to loud talk, and Riva was set upon uncovering the truth of her creation. At the commune, she’d been told that it was a blessing from the spirit world, that they’d gifted her with ancient powers to help them. Riva quickly came to realise that these ancient powers were merely a way to keep the commune warm, and eventually turned into magic tricks to earn some spare cash. After several years, Riva had begun to realise that she was sick and tired of being used for the commune, so at fifteen she left and made a life of her own. She ended up attending supernatural pageants, it turned out that outside of the commune being a supe wasn’t particularly special. In fact, there was a nationwide famous group of them dedicated to protecting America, the seven. She’d seen Starlight at several of them, but never particularly spoken to her. From what Hughie had told her, she was unlike the other supes and in fact rather genuine. A-Train on the other hand, was described by Hughie as a ‘colossal dick’ and by Butcher as ‘another supe cunt’.
Riva’s mind had begun to wander when the metal door swung open, slamming loudly and causing Riva to drop the cup, hot coffee splashing across the pavement and slightly sizzling as it did so. Riva stepped across the hot spillage and strode towards A-Train, donned in his familiar electric blue garb as he exited the building and began walking quickly East. Riva jogged across the road to her Yamaha bike, and revved the engine before pulling her helmet on and speeding off after A-Train.
She knew the bike was no speed match for him, but it would gain her some ground and A-Train didn’t seem to be in much of a rush. She watched him glance back over his shoulder before breaking into a sprint.
“Fuck.” Riva mutters under her breath, pressing the ball of her foot down on the accelerator as she weaves her way between the smattering of cars.
At least that was one benefit of the heat, it did make for an easier chase. Riva’s ability to manipulate heat came in very handy when tracking A-Train, after all, he created a lot of heat when he ran and Riva could practically follow the path that he’d laid out for her. Riva followed the trail around several blocks, and it took her a grand total of three minutes to realise that A-Train was going in a circle. Which meant either he was killing time, or he was fully aware that she was tracking him. Neither was a good sign.
A few streets later, the path changed, veering off to the right. Letting out a sigh of frustration, Riva pulls up on the pavement, tires squealing as she comes to a stop. She flicks out her phone and types a quick message to Hughie, regardless of her powers she didn’t fancy her chances fighting one of the seven. If sparring with Butcher was tough, then sparring with A-Train would be a battle. Shoving her phone back into her pocket, Riva hits the gas again, speeding off after the track and finding herself forced to slow down as she turns down narrower roads until she comes to a dead end, with a cluster of dilapidated buildings. Riva kicks the stand out, leaning her bike to the side as she pulls her helmet off. The sunlight catches on her hair, gleaming like wildfire.
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Riva takes a few tentative steps forward, scanning her surroundings cautiously as her boots crunch over the hot gravel. She makes her way towards a ramshackle building, with wooden planks nailed to the front door. As she walks up to the porch, she swipes her index finger through the dust collecting on the frame. She takes another step, the wood creaking under her feet, freezing at the sound of a voice.
“Who the fuck wears a leather jacket in this weather?”
“Shit.” Riva mutters, whirling round to see A-Train staring at her, utterly bemused.
“Well I’m impressed, I didn’t know I was trackable. So you must be a supe?”
“Something like that.” Riva takes a few steps down, meeting him on the pavement.
“Why are you following me?” He demands, surveying her appearance with an arched eyebrow.
“I’ve got some questions.”
He chuckles, stepping closer to her. “You a reporter?”
“I’m a supe, why the hell would I choose to be a reporter?”
A-Train shrugs, “People do strange things.”
“I’ve got questions about… about compound V.”
A-Train freezes for a millisecond before rolling his shoulders back. “Someone’s been busy.”
“I need to know the truth about it, why are you running it around the city?”
“I’m not running shit.” He seethes, gripping her by her jacket. “You’re gonna shut your mouth, or I’ll break that pretty little jaw of yours.”
“Delightful. Just tell me why.”
“Fuck you. You don’t know anything.” Pushing her away, A-Train turns to walk off.
“Were you on V when you killed Hughie Campbell’s girlfriend?” It was a risky shot, but the only one Riva figured would get him to talk.
“That’s who you’re working for? Fuck me, you really are dumb. Running around with that scrawny kid trying to save the world? Think you’re something special?”
“I think I’m trying to find out the truth, same as you.”
A-Train snorts, a dry laugh that Riva knows is more mocking than joyful. “You don’t know what I want, and I’ve had enough of you and Hughie fucking Campbell sticking your noses where you don’t belong. Fuck off.” He gives her a rough shove, causing Riva to stagger backwards.
There was one more ace to play, she supposed. She guessed it was a day for throwing grief in people’s faces. “Popclaw would want you to.”
A-Train turns slowly, too slowly. A shiver snakes up Riva’s spine as she steadies herself.
“The fuck did you just say?”
“I said-” Her sentence is cut short as the wind is knocked out of her lungs. His fist goes flying into her sternum, sending her soaring across the road as she lands with a bump on the tarmac. Quickly Riva shifts to her feet, but A-Train reaches her quicker, hurling her over his shoulder and sending her flying through the wooden planks, into the house.
Dust floats in the air, particles entering her airways as Riva coughs. Spluttering, she pushes herself to her feet, and pauses. She feels the heat quickly enough that she has time to turn her palms up and sent a jet of flame out in the air. A-Train slides underneath it just in time, and knocks out Riva’s legs. As she lands on her stomach, a hand grasps her ankle, throwing her out through the window. Glass shards slice through her skin, as droplets of blood hit the tarmac, the sun making even her flesh begin to tingle with heat.
She places her palms on the ground, beginning to melt it under her hands as A-Train bursts out of the house, sliding on the slick hot tarmac, he swipes out a fist and Riva ducks, catching him with her boot in his sternum. Sprinting after him, she slams into his body, and is quickly whirled round, an elbow jammed into her neck.
At this point, Riva’s unsure whether to melt his face off, probably not ideal given they need him as a lead. She’s cut short for thought by the crunch of gravel, and the low grunt of someone all too familiar saying,
“Oi cunt, get your fuckin’ hands off her.”
A-Train pauses, thought creasing his forehead as he turns back to stare at Butcher, for once not dressed in that damnable trench coat. “Seriously, you? Fucking hell.” A-Train turns back to Riva, laughing sarcastically, “You’re working for him, of all people? God you need to get better friends.”
“I’d hardly call us friends.” Riva manages to spit out,
“Charmin’ darlin’, but the lady is right. Business partners might be a better phrase.” Butcher retorts, and Riva watches him roll his shoulders back, the way he always did before going for the first punch.
A-Train arches an eyebrow, increasing the weight on Riva’s neck as she coughs for air, “Well, I think for practically stalking me, she might need to learn a little lesson.”
“I said, get your fuckin’ hands off her, you cunt.”
Riva takes advantage of A-Train’s momentary distraction to grab A-Train by the cheeks and begin to heat his skin. Letting out a yelp of pain A-Train drops his forearm from her neck, and Riva kicks him back into Butcher, who cracks him across the jaw.
Riva watches, somewhat mesmerised as Butcher pins him to the floor with a gun at his temple and his boot on A-Train’s arm. “Touch her again, and I’ll fuckin’ kill ya.”
“You’d have to catch me first.”
“Tell us about Compound V.” Butcher prompts, and stops at the whirling sound of police sirens. “You motherfucker-”
“Butcher, come on.” Riva jerks a thumb in the direction of her bike, and Butcher spits on the floor, standing up slowly.
“Better luck next time idiots.” A-Train grins wickedly as he shoots off into the blaring sunlight, and Riva pulls her helmet on, wincing as it brushes a lump on her head. Yanking it off, she tentatively presses her fingertips to the bulge and groans.
“We need to get you back, you’re bleedin’ all over the place and that looks nasty.” He gestures to her head and Riva shrugs.
“There’s no medical supplies at the base, we’ll have to-”
“I know somewhere, just get on behind me.” Butcher walks over to the bike, taking the seat at the front.
“It’s my damn bike, I’ll drive it.”
“No you bloody well won’t, not with a likely concussion, now get on before the cops arrive.”
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Feeling exceptionally frustrated, Riva bites her tongue and wedges her helmet on despite the protests from her head. Locking her arms around Butcher’s waist, they speed off into the outskirts of the city, until Butcher pulls up outside a terraced house on a quiet suburban street. Riva takes her helmet off slowly, as Butcher parks the bike and walks up to the front porch.
“Just a casual bit of B and E?” Riva taunts, watching Butcher fumble around in his jean pocket.
“Hardly love.” He fishes out a key, and unlocks the front door, gesturing to Riva. “Well get in then, quick.”
Riva hurries up to the front door, and upon entering the house pauses as Butcher locks the door behind them. “What the hell is this? This is, why aren’t we using this for Base?”
“Because strictly speaking it’s only for favours.” Butcher mutters, walking into the kitchen and opening cupboards at random. “Sit down, and take that fuckin’ jacket off so I can look at your arms.”
“I’ll tell you once I’ve got you cleaned up. Or are you so fuckin’ stubborn that you don’t want help?”
“I’m fine…” Riva trails off as a sudden dizziness rolls through her in waves, stumbling she reaches the sofa before slipping. Butcher is there in an instant, catching her head before it hits the floor and lifting her onto the sofa in one smooth move.
“Stay here.” He orders, and Riva can’t do much to protest as she begins to drift off. “Don’t sleep, come on sit up.”
A glass of cold water is thrust into her hands, and Riva drinks it gratefully as Butcher begins treating the wounds on her arms. Every now and then Riva emits a hiss of pain as Butcher disinfects and bandages the wounds.
“Thanks.” She mumbles quietly, enough for Butcher to hear but he doesn’t reply other than arching a dark eyebrow at her.
“Do you feel sick? Any vision problems?” He queries and Riva tilts her head to one side.
“I’m checking if you’ve got a concussion because I don’t fancy the idea of you faintin’ on me and having to take you to hospital when I’m a wanted felon.”
Riva gives him a small but wicked smile, “I thought you said you didn’t kill Stillwell?”
“Just let me see your head.” As Riva goes to touch the bump she finds smooth skin and the dizziness beginning to clear from her head.
“Fuckin’ supes.” Butcher rips the bandage off to reveal what had been a rather deep cut replaced by unmarked flesh.
Butcher growls at this, stalking away as he throws the medical supplies back into the cupboard.
“Why did you come? How did you even know-”
“Hughie left his phone at Base. That’s all you need to know.” Butcher informs her as he scours the place for alcohol.
“So you unlocked his phone without his permission and came to-”
“Didn’t unlock. There was no code on it.” Butcher pulls a cork out of a wine bottle with his teeth and grabs a glass.
“Why did you even care what A-Train did to me? I thought you were in a pissy mood?”
Butcher lets out a frustrated sigh. “You’re still on my team Riva, even if you are…”
“One of them.” Riva fills in with a snarl, she marches across the living room and towards the front door when Butcher slams a glass of wine down in front of her.
“Don’t let this go to waste just because you’re mad a normal human being saved you.” He glares at her and Riva rolls her eyes.
“I want off scout duty.”
“You should have thought about that before talkin’ about Becca.”
“She’s dead, she doesn’t care-”
“She’s not fuckin’ dead and if you don’t shut your mouth-”
Riva laughs drily. “You’ll shut it for me? God you know you hate Homelander so much but you’re just like him.”
“You don’t even know the cunt.”
Riva slams her hands down on the counter tops. “I know he’s a bully, just like you.”
“At least he actually knows how to use his powers.” Butcher says through a mouthful of wine and Riva feels the anger begin to uncoil in her stomach, rising up through her veins.
“Oh I’m sorry, are there lines now? Boundaries that we’re not supposed to cross?”
Riva ignores him, attempting to quell the rage burning in her gut. “Is it true Becca’s alive?”
“It’s none of your business.”
She meets his gaze slowly, “You said we’re a team. It’s my business.”
“When people threaten my team it is my business, but our private lives have nothing to do with work. It’s not like you share anything.”
“That pisses you off?”
“Yea it does fuckin’ piss me off.” Butcher snarls as he takes a step closer towards her. “It pissed me off watchin’ the speedy cunt put his hands on you.”
Riva pauses at this point, the rage which had up until now been coursing a steady path through her veins halts too as she regards Butcher thoughtfully. “Why did that bother you?” She asks, so softly that it’s almost a whisper.
His brow creases, the realisation dawning on him that he’s perhaps admitted something he never should have. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me.” Riva murmurs, softly again as she reaches out to touch him and Butcher shoves her arm away.
“Don’t fuckin’ touch me.”
The rage rises up through her throat as her veins begin to glow red with heat. “You know what Butcher, fine, be miserable and alone because when you die there will be nothing and no-one feeling sorry for you.” Seething, she turns to exit as Butcher throws back a final insult.
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“Just like you then eh? Shitty parents, shitty childhood, abusive-”
The glass soars through the air, and Butcher ducks just in time as it smashes against a cabinet, red wine splattering the walls like blood stains. She glares at him, panting with anger. “Fuck. You.”
He laughs loudly. “You. Wish.” Taking a few steps towards her, Riva refuses to back down and meets him in the middle of the room.
“I’d rather burn alive.” Her hands ball into fists as she readies herself for attack.
“The feelin’s mutual, love.”
Her arm swings out and Butcher catches it, but despite her lack of education when it came to mastering super strength, Riva was just as strong as him. She pushes against his grip and Butcher’s mouth quirks up into a smirk, and he grabs her throat with his free hand.
Riva’s eyes burn with intensity, a new kind of rage uncoiling in her as she stares at him, his hand remarkably light around her throat despite the fervour with which he moved towards it. She places her fingertips on the back of his hand, and begins to heat up his skin. She hears the sizzle and watches his face, which remains smirking, no sign of pain whatsoever.
Riva licks her lips, “I hate you.”
“I hate you too, darlin’.”
Looking back on it now, Riva was unsure who initiated the first move, or how it even came about. One second Butcher’s hand was around her throat and she was burning said hand, whilst he had her other fist in a tight grip and the next she was up against a wall with his hands skating down to her thighs and his mouth on hers.
She didn’t stop him though, if anything she finally began to understand the nuance of the rage that she felt whenever she was around him. It had begun the third time she met him, this new kind of heat that was born in her gut and radiated throughout her so intensely that even she felt the sting of it’s heat. Now, she was beginning to acknowledge that it might in fact be lust.
His mouth pressed against hers firmly, his hands dropping to her waist as hers found themselves tangling up in his thick black hair. Butcher’s hands squeeze her hips, eliciting a gasp from Riva as his tongue finds it’s way into her mouth, fighting her for dominance as she rakes her nails down the back of his neck which he groans delightedly at. His right hand remains on her hip as his left comes up, tangling in her red hair his fist tightens around a few strands and pulls her head back.
“Fuck.” She breathes as his lips trail down her jawline, moving across the expanse of her neck until he finds the spot that makes her arch her back and moan as he takes the flesh between his teeth gently. Sucking the skin, she feels her neck begin to bruise and heal simultaneously as she digs her fingernails into his shoulders.
He trails a line of kisses back up to her ear, nipping the lobe before murmuring, “I love it when you moan for me.”
“And I can’t wait until you moan for me.” Riva whispers through gasping breaths.
“Unlikely love.” He hums against her neck, and Riva pushes him roughly in his chest. Butcher grins wickedly as he staggers backwards, and Riva surveys him before darting round the island in the centre of the kitchen.
Butcher feints left, before moving right and grabbing her by the waist, he hauls her thighs up around his hips and slams her into the wall again, and she moans gripping the buttons of his shirt which she rips open.
“Take this off.” Riva pleads, and Butcher chuckles huskily.
“Eager are we?”
“Shut the fuck up.” Riva mutters and Butcher grins, pivoting round and sitting her on the counter top as he tugs his shirt off and tosses it on the floor.
“You’re buyin’ me a new one.” He mutters and Riva catches him by the jaw.
“I’ll do jack shit for you.” She states, hoping the attempt at confidence in her voice overwhelms the gorgeous shock that comes at seeing the rippled muscle that has been hiding far too well under all these trench coats.
“Oh you’ll do plenty for me today darlin’.” He tells her, hands tugging at the vest on her torso as Riva slaps his hands away.
“Not yet.” She tuts, grabbing his jaw and kissing him deeply as his hands snake round her waist. Fingertips tracing idle shapes on her back until he rips the vest off her back and chucks it across the kitchen.
“Butcher.” Riva protests but he slides his hand back around her throat, squeezing lightly.
“I don’t care.” He growls but relaxes a little before quietly adding, “Tap my wrist two times if you need me to stop love.”
Riva can’t help but twist her lips up into a smile at this, as her hand closes over his encouraging him to to tighten his grip which Butcher does, grinning wildly as he unbuttons and unzips her cargo pants with one hand. Pulling them down her thighs, Butcher smiles at her bare thighs.
“What?” Riva narrows her eyes at him.
“You’re fuckin’ beautiful.” He brushes his knuckle against Riva’s thigh who whimpers, as she involuntarily spreads them for him.
Butcher’s hands grip her ass as he pulls her to the edge of the counter top and drops to his knees, kissing slowly up from her ankles to her core, inch by inch. His lips skate over her underwear before kissing down the other leg as Riva grips the cool counter under her hands.
“Stop teasing.” She hisses, and Butcher clicks his tongue.
“Lie back for me love.” He murmurs, and Riva sits up, meeting Butcher’s hand who presses her back down firmly by her stomach.
“Lie back and cum for me darlin’.” Butcher says, before adding, “That was an order.”
Riva arches an eyebrow, but nonetheless lies back, the cool counter soothing the warmth of her back. She exhales gently as Butcher’s fingertips brush over her underwear, and his index finger pushes it to the side. Butcher inhales sharply, groaning at the sight of her.
“Told you.” Riva grins, and Butcher sighs.
“Fuck. You’re fuckin’ perfect.”
“I’m going to remind you of- oh fuck.” Riva gasps, her hands gripping the edge of the counter as Butcher’s tongue flicks up her core, circling the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.
“You were sayin’ love?” Butcher hums against her, and Riva grunts in frustration, her hands grabbing the back of his head as she pushes him towards her.
“Don’t stop.” She whines, and he laughs before meeting her gaze.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ devour you.” He tells her, and uses the flat of his tongue to lick a stripe up her sex.
Riva moans, arching her back as Butcher’s tongue moves quicker and quicker over her core that begins to drip down onto his chin. He places two fingers in his mouth, covering them in saliva before nudging one at her entrance.
Riva gasps, “Please. I need you.”
“In me. Fuck Butcher, please.”
He answers by pushing one finger inside her and Riva hisses through her teeth, as he curls his index finger inside her, gently brushing her inner walls. He adds another, stretching her open as his mouth returns to the epicentre of her nerves. He sucks it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around her before returning to licking up and down her core. As he falls into a rhythm, she grips his head and moans louder, her back arching as she grinds her hips into his mouth.
“Don’t you fucking change a thing, I’m so fucking…” She trails off as Butcher keeps his rhythm, and brings her closer and closer to the explosion she so desperately craves.
It hits her like an explosion, stars spearing through her vision as her whole body glows red with aching heat, and Butcher hums proudly against her as she tightens around his fingers.
“Oh Jesus Christ.” Riva breathes raggedly.
“Not quite love.” He replies.
“Just shut up.”
“Oh, you taste fuckin’ delicious. So good for me.” He chuckles against her and kisses up her stomach, nuzzling her breasts.
Riva sits up, wrapping her legs around his hips and unbuckling his jeans. “My turn.” She pushes him back, slipping off the counter as she slams him up against the wall, yanking down his jeans and cupping him in her hand.
Riva smirks as he begins to harden in her palm, and tugs at the waistband of his boxers. “Do I turn you on Butcher?”
“More than you fuckin’ know love, let’s just skip this part eh?” He lets out a breath as Riva runs her tongue from the base of him to his head, flicking it gently before taking him all the way in her mouth.
“Oh fuck love, fuck you’re so fuckin’ good at…” He trails off, hands twisting into her hair as he gently pushes her head up and down his length.
His knees buckle after a minute, and he pulls her up by her throat, tightening his grip as he kisses her, his mouth tasting of her and hers of him, forming the most exquisitely gorgeous combination on their tongues.
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“A little too close for comfort?” She taunts, and Butcher smiles widely.
“Cut me some slack, it’s been a while.” He unclips her bra, throwing it over his shoulder as he carries her towards the sofa.
“No.” She breathes, “Against the wall first.”
“Are you-”
“I’m kiddin’, love.” He rams her against the wall, adjusting himself so that he’s pressed against her entrance. “You ready?”
“Just fuck me.” His answer is to slam himself into her, all the way up to the hilt. Riva lets out a soft scream as she stretches to accommodate him, and he remains still for several moments to let her adjust.
“Better?” He quips, and she nods. “Good. Because I’m going to make your legs shake so much you won’t be able to walk for days.”
“Big talk.” She purrs, and his fingertips press harshly into her hips before he pulls back and thrusts into her again. Riva’s left hand grips his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin whilst her right hand tugs on his hair.
“God you feel so fuckin’ good.” He says between breaths, his hips ramming into hers as her back smacks against the wall again and again and again. To most, it would have bruised the skin, but it added a layer of slight pain to the overwhelming pleasure she was feeling, which made the whole experience all the more incredible.
He grabs her arms, and holds them above her head, his grip tight around her wrists as he uses his free hand to hold her up, fucking her harder and harder until she’s screaming for him, begging him to keep going. She leans forward, sinking her teeth into his shoulder as he laughs, “God you’re brilliant.”
“Don’t fucking stop.” She grits out, and Butcher shakes his head, all pretence gone.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He drops her wrists, securing her weight in his hands as he moves her from the wall, pausing by the freezer as he opens it with one hand, grabs something and kicks it shut.
Butcher carries her to the sofa, lying Riva on her back and kissing down her sternum as he pops an ice cube in his mouth and drags it across her breasts, circling her nipples as gasps of pleasure escape from her throat. He drags it down her sternum, leaving it resting on her belly as his mouth moves up to her nipples, taking them in his mouth individually as he uses his hand to knead her other breast.
An idea forms in Riva’s head, one that’s so enjoyable she can’t help but act it out instantly. She lunges forward pushing Butcher on his back and taking the icecube in her mouth as she sits on his chest, dragging it down his neck much to Butcher’s delight, who groans softly in her ear as she maps his chest with her hands, fingertips grazing over the indents of his abdominal muscles.
“It’s my job to tease you.” He stutters, her lips catching his in a kiss which he eagerly returns.
“And it’s mine to torment you.” Riva murmurs, her lips brushing over his ear, as she returns to the ice cube that’s begun dissolving on his chest. She straddles his lap, sinking down slowly onto him and watching his eyes roll back in rapture.
“Fuckin’ hell, Riva.” He grunts as she begins to wind her hips in a serpentine fashion, his hands gripping her ass as he smacks her lightly, holding her tightly as he meets her movements, thrusting up into her.
“Butcher, your hands, I’m gonna…” She trails off as a wave of euphoria crashes through her, and his hands snake up to her neck, closing around her throat as he squeezes.
“Cum for me love, I want to hear you say my name. I want to know that it’s me who’s making you feel like this.”
“Possessive much?” She gulps out and he grins.
“You have no idea.” He increases the pressure, and watches her wring out her orgasm on his lap, riding him harder and harder as Butcher begins to sit up, squeezing tighter until her body freezes before melting under his touch.
He drops his hands from her neck as she lets out a gasp for oxygen, her hands digging into his shoulders as she tilts her head back, throat exposed to the air moaning, “Oh fuck, Billy, yes, just like that.”
“God I love it when you say my name. I plan on hearing you say that many, many times over.” He tells her, watching her in awe as she comes down from her high.
“Your turn.” She says softly, lips swollen with lust as he flips her on her back, hands cradling her face.
“As you wish, love.” He begins thrusting into her, her legs wrapped round his hips as he gets faster and faster, the couch moving with his movement.
“If anyone ever touches you again without your consent, I’ll fuckin’ kill them. Do you understand?” He looks down at her, slowing his pace for a moment.
He runs his thumb over her lower lip and she takes it in her mouth, gently biting down.
“Billy love, just call me Billy.”
She smiles around his thumb, before raking her nails down his back. “Then cum for me Billy, I want to hear you say my name.”
He grins happily, holding her waist tight as he thrusts harder into her, his hands moving down to grip her thighs as he pulls her down onto him repeatedly, beads of sweat dripping down his face as Riva watches his eyes close, chasing the release that she felt minutes ago. She leans up, nipping his ear as he pants out.
“Too hot, I’m so fuckin’ hot.”
She places her palms on his back, dragging the heat out of his body and watching him relax a little as he continues moving, nuzzling her neck.
“Immensley love.” He kisses her neck, thrusting harder and harder as his hips bruise her inner thighs until he slows just a touch and Riva grins.
“Say it.”
“Fuck, Riva fuck you feel incredible.” He groans, his face twisting in pleasure as his release spills out inside her, his thrusts slowing until his face is inches from hers, their foreheads pressed together.
“Well, that was unexpected.” Riva says with a soft laugh as Butcher presses his lips to hers before confessing.
“Hardly darlin’, I’ve been waiting to do that for fuckin’ weeks.”
Riva arches an eyebrow, “But you argue with me non-stop, you’re just as stubborn as I am.”
Butcher chuckles, kissing her forehead. “What can I say love? Creatures of habit.”
