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another-supernova-girl · 3 months ago

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The New Normal ( Part 2 ) - Compartmentalize : - Cooper Adams/Abbott x Fem Reader *NSFW*

Based on the following request from @callsign-fangirl : "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you" with cooper? 👉🏽👈🏽 I obviously decided to turn it into a continuation of my first posted Cooper request, The New Normal (it just fit so well), I hope you like it girlie 🔪 As a reminder, this is canon divergent, where Cooper and Rachel got a divorce instead of her discovering he is The Butcher. Gif is mine. MY JOSH HARTNETT CHARACTER MASTERLIST CAN BE FOUND HERE. This is NSFW, and contains consensual sexual content ( NO Daddy Kink, NO Breeding Kink, and NO Degradation Kink ) and some mentions of violence. One aspect of it was also definitely inspired by something interesting I noticed regarding a certain 5-ish seconds of the movie...if you've seen my gif set, you'll probably be able to pick out which portion ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(( word count : ~ 3,800 ))

“It's okay, really...I'm not going anywhere, take as long as you...okay, I just don't want you rushing on my account,” The Butcher's girlfriend spoke into the receiving end of her cellphone, standing outside the front entrance of the bar they had agreed to meet up at. The night was chillier than expected, and she regretted not bringing a jacket, but the music was too loud inside the establishment, and she didn't want to risk any miscommunication. “She thinks you cheated on her mother with me, of course she isn't going to like me. Just...Cooper, she's never going to like me if she thinks I'm driving a wedge between her and her dad...Okay, just text me when you're on your way...I love you, too,” she mumbled into the phone before she ended the call, still getting used to saying those words out loud. It hadn't been her intention to cut into daddy-daughter time, but Cooper had let slip his evening plans while Riley was on the phone with her mother, and suddenly Rachel had some extra errands to run that had clearly been an effort to throw off his night. Admittedly, it was frustrating, but the young woman standing in the frigid air, pocketing her phone, knew it couldn't be helped by anything but time, and she glanced once more at her phone before slipping back inside.

🔪

Nearly an hour had passed between the call, and Cooper's emergence into the establishment, his umber eyes darting around immediately, in search of his young lover, his vision landing on a stool toward the furthest end of the bar. His kind, public-facing smile immediately appeared across his lips as he strode her way, peeling off his sturdy coat as he moved, dropping it on the stool beside the one he sat down upon, directly by her side. He began to apologize for his tardiness, but she shook her head, staring up at him with almost none of the shyness that she so often displayed around the firehouse. Clearly, she had started without him, he observed, her cheeks warm to the touch as he grazed a callous-roughened thumb over one side of her face, his fingertips caressing her throat and jaw. When she leaned into his touch, he took the opportunity to capture her lips in a kiss, and he tasted her sugary drink on her tongue. “How many have you had,” he whispered when he pulled away, both his hands on her face now, his thumbs running back and forth over her soft skin. Any anxiety he might have felt about changing their plans so last minute, and her possible negative reaction, was abated by the dreamy look in her eyes as she stared back at him with such transparent affection.

“This is my second,” she confirmed, glancing at the half-full vessel of a liquid whose vivid pigment was definitely not present in nature. “I'm kind of a lightweight,” she admitted with a half-smile and a shrug.

“I can see that,” he answered, a genuine smile taking over his features as she leaned in to claim more of his physical affection, her lips seeking out his own. Cooper's large hands drifted along the sides of her throat, over her shoulders, gripping lightly at the neckline of the dress she wore, sliding his thumbs between the fabric and her heated skin, nearly forgetting where he was until the sound of a clearing throat brought them both back to the reality of their surroundings. The fireman glanced toward the stone-faced bartender, clearly unfazed by the sight of couples trying to unwrap each other at the bar, and he ordered a bourbon, abandoning the edges of his date's dress to take her hand instead. They had the whole night to themselves. There was plenty of time for however they decided to spend it.

Time passed without much notice as The Butcher and his girl spent the next round of sipped drinks sharing the details of their day, Cooper doing most of the talking as he gushed about his daughter, the young woman beside him listening intently. She wasn't particularly interested in having any children of her own, but absorbing the words of the proud girl-dad beside her gave her a modicum of comfort. For all his violent tendencies against strangers, the secrets of his that she kept, she felt as she listened to him enthuse about his children, that he couldn't possibly be all monster beneath. Or maybe she was just getting better at compartmentalizing.

“So, how was your day? I feel like I'm doing all the talking,” he finally inquired when he realized how long it had been since she'd uttered more than just a reaction to his stories.

“Um...uneventful,” she shrugged, her eyes glancing away for a moment at nothing in particular before they began searching for her nearly fluorescent drink. When he didn't respond after several seconds, she glanced back up to him as she drew her glass to her lips. “What?”

“What happened,” he asked directly, all levity in his features dropping away.

“N-nothing,” she mumbled, gulping down a swallow of the vibrant liquid. When Cooper sat up straighter on his stool, his gaze trained studiously on her, unyielding, she let out a sigh. “It was really nothing,” she repeated, tilting her head to look elsewhere, a large hand reaching out to gently guide her back to share his gaze.

“It doesn't sound like nothing,” The Butcher retorted, and it might have unsettled her how long he managed to stare at her without blinking, if she hadn't been so tipsy from the alcohol.

“Some...gross guy at the bar-”

“This bar?”

“What other bar could it possibly...Yes, this bar,” she confirmed, letting out a breath, glancing away for the briefest moment before he grazed his thumb over her cheek, silently encouraging her attention.

“Did he touch you-”

“No, he didn't touch me, he just...didn't wanna take 'go away' for an answer,” she mumbled. “But obviously, he eventually did,” she noted, indicating with her hands in both directions of the bar the empty stools on either side of them.

“You didn't leave your drink-”

“No, Cooper, he didn't drug me, I'm not stup-”

“Smart girls end up in dangerous situations, too,” he interrupted, the irony of his words not lost on either of them, considering all the blood that had soaked his hands over the years. “Is he still here?” When her words dried up, her lips pursed, he had his answer. “Who?”

“Cooper, it's not-”

Both of his large hands cupped her jaw as he watched her eyes, the young woman before him beginning to sober up a bit as the stream of alcohol slowed. “Sweetheart, this isn't...none of this is going to work if you don't trust me,” he rasped, his hands lowering to her shoulders as they had earlier in the evening, though he found it much easier to keep them from wandering in his frustrated state. “I hope you realize there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you.” She stared into his eyes until the intensity of them became too much, her smaller hands reaching up for his larger ones and dragging them away from her shoulders, his digits weaving between her own. “Now...which one?”

After a few seconds of staring at his large hands, the way they engulfed and overwhelmed hers, she glanced over her shoulder toward the furthest corner, and Cooper realizing how obvious it should have been. He'd been so wrapped up in his girl that he'd missed the more age-appropriate man leering at her from across the room. “Cooper...” she uttered as he suddenly stood up, letting go of her hands to push his silky hair out of his face. “What are you gonna-”

“Don't worry about me, baby...We're just gonna go have a talk,” he lied, standing up and leaning in to press an insistent kiss against her mouth, one of his hands weaving into her hair to pull her closer, his tongue darting out to meet hers when she parted her lips for air. When he finally pulled away, she wants sure if it was the alcohol or his kiss that had her feeling especially dizzy. “I'll be right back,” he breathed against her ear before finally parting from her, heading directly for the man she had indicated, whom Cooper had obviously put on a show for.

🔪

Nearly twenty minutes had passed before she finally breathed a sigh of defeat, standing up from the bar stool she'd been left alone at, digging for her wallet within her purse to pay for the drinks she and her older boyfriend had partaken of. She didn't want the bartender following her outside, thinking he'd been stiffed, especially considering the real possibility that she'd find The Butcher doing a lot more than just talking. Satisfying their accumulated tab, the young woman picked up Cooper's glass and swallowed down the rest of the liquid inside, making a pained face as the burn of it hit her throat. If she was paying, it wasn't going to waste, no matter how wretched it tasted.

With a glance around the room, she strode across the bar and stepped through the front doors, glancing in both directions and wincing as the brisk air whipped at her exposed skin. There was no sign of the two men in either direction, no sounds of talking or...she hesitated to think what other sounds she might encounter. Knowing what he spent a selection of his free time doing was one thing, seeing it was quite another. With a swallow that was more akin to a gulp, she glanced again at her surroundings, and chose the side with the shorter wall, stepping as quietly as she could manage in her heeled boots along the concrete and circling the corner. Still no sight of either man, the faint snapping of twigs and thicker branches caught her attention, and she walked with increased vigor toward what she assumed must be the back of the bar, finding...still, no one.

“Cooper,” she meant to call out, but her throat barely managed a whisper as she looked around desperately for signs of life. With more clicking of her boots, she dug into her purse for the pepper spray Cooper had insisted she start carrying, looking in all directions until a sound not of her own creation reached her ears. She called out his name again, this time with more success, and she paused in her steps as a form emerged from the furthest edge of the parking lot, lined in unruly trees. Tall, broad-shouldered, silky chestnut hair in need of a trim falling in his face, she let out a sigh of relief as she began trekking in his direction, though her feet lost momentum when she noticed the shades of rusty burgundy that stood out against the black and white plaid of his flannel. His gate was sweeping as he crossed the empty, concrete-laden distance toward her, his facade almost expressionless. She mumbled his name once more as he neared her enough to reach out.

“Don't worry, sweetheart, it's not mine,” he whispered as he wiped blood from his hands down the sides of his shirt. He'd have to burn it in the fireplace when he got home anyway, so there wasn't much point in preventing further stains.

“I...figured,” she managed as she stared up at him, flinching reflexively when his large hands reached out for her, crimson staining his cuticles. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes almost appearing as nothing but shadows beneath his brow, reaching out once more and cupping her shoulders in his palms.

“I asked you to wait,” he spoke up suddenly, and her brows knit together as she stared up at his barely-lit features.

“You were gone so long, I...I started to worry,” she admitted, swallowing down the dryness in her throat as she stared up into the emptiness of his gaze. “I, um...I paid our tab...so...” She wasn't quite sure what to say as she gazed up at the man looming over her. She hadn't exactly been ignorant of his extra curricular activities when they'd started dating, but to be faced with it in person...and she knew this was far from the worst of it, whatever he'd done with the-

“Where is the...the body...I'm guessing,” she mumbled, glancing around, seeing no more signs of sentient life.

“Hidden away,” he answered vaguely. “All in one piece...they won't think it's one of mine,” he murmured, his hands starting to make passes up and down her arms, the warmth of them meeting the chill of her skin. “You're cold,” he mumbled.

“I...it's freezing out here,” she whispered, her feet beginning to take backward steps as she felt Cooper crowding her.

“I can warm you up,” he offered, the creep of a smile tugging at his lips. Something about his tone didn't seem to convey the obvious options for warmth, like the heated seats and toasty blast of the vents in his car. Managing to tear her gaze away from his hypnotic eyes, she glanced back at the building they were slowly edging toward, her eyes darting around in search of cameras, finding only one, the wires sprawling out of the wall and seemingly attaching to nothing relevant. “They're disabled,” Cooper answered her unasked question. “Doubt they've worked in years...we're safe,” he continued.

Safe. She repeated the word in her mind. She didn't feel anything close to safe as her back finally met chilled, jagged brick. “Cooper,” she breathed as his large hands found her waist, the fabric of her dress suddenly feeling quite thin and insignificant. She flinched again, though not from his touch, as her shoulder-blade scraped the rough, red stone.

“Stay,” he commanded, and she moved not an inch from where he left her, eyes following him as he stepped away just long enough to gather his jacket he'd discarded on the cracked concrete, an article he wasn't nearly as ready to part with as a simple flannel. Cooper was pleased to find her still where he'd left her as he closed the distance between them again, noticed her focus drifting along his body.

“Does that...usually happen, when you...,” her voice faded away to nothing as he joined her, guiding her arms into his retrieved jacket, her limbs disappearing inside it, the uncomfortable scrape of the brick being replaced by the slick feel of the satin-mimicking lining. Cooper raised a brow, following the focus of her gaze to the bulge straining against the zipper of his jeans.

“Sometimes,” he answered, another non-committal response.

“So...what do you usually do about it,” she breathed, her hands reaching through the minute distance between them, finding his belt buckle, plucking at the leather strip, her vision trained on the sheer mass of him through the denim. Contrary to the rumors that circulated around the firehouse, the murderer and his morally reluctant accessory had not actually found many opportunities for intimacy. Between a highly unpredictable work schedule on his end, and of course, his efforts to spend time with his children, there hadn't been as many chances for proper 'alone time' as either of them had wished for.

“I usually handle it myself,” Cooper spoke up, placing his flannel-covered forearms against the wall, his gaze fixed upon her fingers as he watched her loosen his belt, work at the snaps and zipper of his jeans, his cock barely held at bay by the stretch of his boxer-briefs. “You wanna help me take care of it?” Her hand sliding of its own accord beneath the elastic waistband was his answer, and his eyes eased closed as she palmed the weeping tip, swiping her thumb over the tiny slit and bringing the smear of pre-cum to her mouth to taste it.

“You're sure you really got that vasectomy,” she asked, and he smirked, eyes still closed as she wrapped her fingers around him and pumped frustratingly lightly.

“It's not really something-ahh...it's not something a man just forgets,” he groaned when her fingers slipped lower to grasp his balls lightly, still shielded from the crisp air by clingy fabric.

“Because you aren't exactly above lying to me-”

“When have I-”

“Not thirty fucking minutes a-” Cooper's mouth was on hers before she could snap out another word, his large hand grasping her smaller one and lifting it above her head, against the brick.

“You taste like my bourbon,” he whispered as his lips began to trail a line of kisses along her jaw, and she let out a frustrated sigh as he ignored her concerns in the moment, his free hand finding her waist once more, drifting lower to gather up the hem of her dress, the frigid autumn air meeting her thighs. “Yes, I really got it taken care of. After Logan, Rachel and I...,” his words ceased when he felt her hand go slack in his. “Hey...Baby, we've talked about this,” his voice softened as his fingers abandoned her thigh, the other hand that held hers to the wall dropping away, both reaching to cup her cheeks, warm from the flush of her arousal despite the chilled air, and the unfortunate topic they'd stumbled into. “My marriage was over, long before she came to the wrong conclusion...I miss coming home to my kids, but I don't miss coming home to her. I get...excited, when I know I'm gonna get to see you,” Cooper explained, running his thumbs over her cheeks, his fingers stroking gently at her throat. “I don't remember the last time I felt like that, before...before us,” he concluded, watching her eyes until they finally glanced back up at his.

“Really?” she finally mumbled, and a smile erupted across his face, the glaze of calm from his spontaneous kill little more than a memory.

“Really,” he declared, dipping down to taste her lips again, faint at first, almost chaste. “Do you wanna get out of here,” he whispered, his hands finding her shoulders again, confined in the thick layer of his jacket. He was a bit surprised when he felt the end of her nose ghost back and forth against his, shaking her head slightly. “You still wanna play?” She nodded silently, her hands taking hold of his, guiding them slowly down the short length of her dress – flowy, thin, and definitely not suited for such brisk weather. “I think you might still be a little drunk, baby,” he rasped, but his fingers continued to travel where she led them, nudging the strip of lace at the junction of her thighs out of his way, so slick that it felt like she was melting around him as his fingers slipped inside her.

“I might be...uhh...a little-mmph...” her words were staggered, her feet unsteady as he filled her up with his fingers, stroking at the spongy walls that made her tremble against the brick surface behind her.

“Drunk?” he offered, his digits drawing out from within her clinging walls, both hands reaching for her hips to drag the useless scrap of modesty down her thighs, dropping it to the concrete below, his own boot holding it in place as she stepped out of it.

“Buzzed,” she mumbled, her arms winding reflexively around his neck as his hands grasped either side of her ass, lifting her suddenly until her legs wrapped around his waist, his cock still bobbing above his elastic waistband, unfazed by the cool air that surrounded them. “But I know what I want,” she continued, her back wrapped in his coat that rubbed against the brick wall, taking in an audible breath as she felt the head of his cock against her folds, slick with her nectar, Cooper eager, but apprehensive. “Cooper, please,” she whispered, gripping the hair at the scruff of his neck and pulling him into a kiss, The Butcher swallowing her voice as he finally plunged inside.

Cooper's grip was firm against the flesh of her ass as he worked his hips against her, filling her so deeply from the elevated angle, the draw of gravity on them both, and the sheer size of him. Proportional, she'd called it the first time she saw it, clearly a little apprehensive, herself. Much as she had enjoyed herself as he'd laid claim to her body, she'd denied him when he tried to touch her after, uncomfortably tender from his attention.

“You okay?” the hulking man breathed against the shell of her ear as he sheathed himself inside her molten core, gasps pouring out of her with every thrust of his hips. She articulated no words, but nodded against him, her smooth cheek against his slightly rougher skin, a day's worth of unshaved growth between them. “I need you to tell me if I'm hurting y-”

“Cooper,” she whimpered out, one hand reaching around him to grasp at him through the denim that barely clung to his ass, the other pushing his sweat-slick hair out of his face, her eyes focused squarely on his as her whole body bobbed from the force of his thrusts. “I wouldn't let you fuck me if it hurt...you feel so...fuck, you feel so fucking good...you make me feel so-mmph...”

Cooper drank in her moans as his mouth worked against hers, his tongue as welcome inside as his cock clearly was, his hips growing more insistent as she pulsed around him, her flesh so welcoming. “Tell me,” he rasped as their lips parted, a sheen of sweat across his features, glistening in the singular electric light above them, “Tell me how I make you feel.”

“Full,” she mumbled against his ear, her arms around his neck as the brick wall scraped at the borrowed jacket. “You make me feel so full...like I've spent all this time empty,” she continued, her hot breath against his neck as her body melted into him, her grip tightening on the blood-stained flannel as his hips began to jerk more erratically.

Neither managed any more actual words as Cooper pumped inside her until his fluids merged with hers, dribbling out onto their already slick skin as he finally let her boots touch concrete again. Dragging his uncomfortably wet underwear back into place and refastening his jeans, The Butcher offered his hand to her to grip for support as he squatted before her, surveying her swollen flesh, and she whimpered a weak protest. “You're gonna be sore tomorrow, aren't you,” he mumbled, leaning in to place a kiss against one naked thigh, then the other, helping her back into her panties.

“If you take me home...I'll let you kiss it better in the morning,” she answered, her throat uncomfortably dry, eager for just about anything but his vile bourbon.

“Promise?”

🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪

tagging : @one-of-thewalkingdead , @gissellec1 , @pinkflowerwombat , @sashimeep , @strangererotica , @the-butchers-baby , @callsign-fangirl , @hibiskooks , @jessy02 , @charliehoennam , @pinastrihaven , @amethystblackkchaos , @bleeding-heartz , @gt-rxn , @simplymurdock , @lucy-sky

If I forgot anyone, I apologize, and please let me know if you want to be tagged in the next one

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS AND TAGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED.💙

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