#cooper abbott x you

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Heya! I have a request with your angst prompt list number 29 with Cooper!!

Just anything that comes to mind with it. Be creative and have fun, no pressure❤

More Alike Than You Know | Cooper Abbott x F!Reader

Warnings: DARK FIC: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Angst, Reader has been kidnapped, language, Pervy!Cooper, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Choking, Cooper is a sick little freak, Grinding, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Play, Over the clothes stuff, Drugging, Biting, Edging, Hair Pulling, Mentions of panic attacks, Mentions of fear,

Rating: E -  No Minors!

Word Count: 4.6k

Author’s Note: Thank you for this request sweetheart! I think this is a clear key indicator of why the prompt should not be left up to me because I made this dark, angsty, and somewhat smutty????

If you would like to be tagged, please fill this out

Trust is a funny thing, how are you supposed to trust? How do you know when to trust, or if it’ll be worth the time? We are born trusting; Our life is in someone’s hands – we know no other feat except that. But when in our lives does it switch? When does the light go off in our minds? Is it the first time we feel betrayed, hurt, scared? Is it when we have promises shattered and hopes ripped apart? Or is it when we realize nothing truly matters in life – what exists at the end of the day? It sucks away the trust you have for the world, for the universe. Why do some of us trust too much? Are we afraid that if we don’t, everything we have will crumble? It’s a blessing and a curse to trust, especially with those who only mean harm from the get-go.

That’s how you ended up in your current position, tied to an old wooden chair that creaks with each squirm you let out. Ankles bound down to the grain, wrists falling not far behind. The wirey texture scratched at your skin, causing a burn to invade the area. Your breath rough against the slight chill of the basement. The shiver running down your spine made you feel sick, at any moment you felt like you were going to pass out. Maybe it was the fear of not knowing? Maybe it was the fact that you woke up here? Maybe it was the drugs currently running through your system, on their last legs to keep you bound and complacent. Your head lolls side to side as the fluorescent lights above you buzz with anticipation; A headache focused behind your eyes pounding with the sound. A simple groan releases from your mouth as you try to bring your focus in front of you, seeing a figure sitting in the desk chair to your left, back to you as they type away.

The clicking on the keys does nothing but make you hiss, eyes finally focusing back in as your mind clears – the fog subsiding. Taking a deep breath, you felt a pain ricochet through your shoulder blades that caused a gasp, jutting forward to bend over your knees. The sharpness of it causing you to lose your breath for a moment, struggling to regain it. Unlike anything you ever felt before, this deep-set blast made you question what could’ve caused it, what could relieve it. Trying to blink away the tears threatening to spill, you caught the figure to your left spinning around – their booted feet now facing you easily. Ragged exhales left your parted lips as you started to straighten out, feeling the release of the tension in your back – the crack exhaling all the trauma you faced. “I see you’re up now, hi sleepy head.” The voice rang out in an echo, your mind reeling as you tried to place it.

Letting your eyes focused on the room, you noticed every detail. The stark white walls bare with any semblance that someone lives here. The table against the wall to your right covered in plastic, metallic tools glinting under the bright lights. Across the concrete floor sat a thick blue tarp, stains of what you hoped was rust at your feet – gliding across the entirety of the left side. Your heart started to speed up as your eyes panned closer to the voice, seeing the Victorian era desk pushed against the corner of the room, the antique chair creaking as the figure leans back. The clean yet worn boots they wore were industrial it looked like; They had to work a manual labor job. The crisp denim jeans were clean of any residue or dust – even blood. A plain burgundy cotton shirt sat across their chest, tight in all the right places whilst being loose in others. From the neck down they looked like everyone else, you’d never expect this out of someone like that. It’s when your eyes landed on his face that you threw everything you knew out the window, throwing away everything that made you scared in that moment.

Gentle brown eyes watched you like a hawk – trying to evoke something in you to say you’re safe. It worked in a way, because you felt the fear lessen as you took in his facial features. The gentle tick under his eyes, the quirk of his lips, the soft stubbled grazing his jawline and upper lip. His hair the color of mocha, a few strands falling in front of his forehead like he had been adjusting it, the pomade no longer holding the professional shape. Every other white man you have ever known looked exactly like this; Wholesome, strong, prominent. They held importance in their everyday life, no wonder no one suspected him. It made your chest burn with undercover rage and worry as to why it was you in this position, what your purposes was, and where the actual fuck you were. Sliding your tongue across your teeth, you stared intently into his eyes, never losing a moment to back down.

“Why me?” It was a simple question that held so much behind it. Yet, it was a fully loaded question. The man pondered for a moment, brows creased as he contemplated your question. His right brow cocked slightly as he leaned his head to the right, taking in every angle of your face. A small chuckle released from his lips as he came to his full height, towering over you. “Why not you?” He didn’t blink for a moment, taking in your reaction as your brows went slack, finding what he said hard to comprehend. You were confused, and he found it endearing – cute even. A gentle smile creased across his bottom lip, slipping from one side to both in a second. Reaching forward, he ran the outside of his right first finger against your cheek, feeling how you shivered under the contact. The exhale he released was one of relief, contentment. How soft your skin was against the harsh interior of the room – now realizing it was a finished basement. You shouldn’t have liked his touch as much as you did – reveling in how warm it was against you. Reality set in quick, but not enough to contemplate what this is all for.

“I’m nothing, no one.” There was no hesitation in your voice as your words slipped out, like it was factual. It was bullshit, you are someone, you are important. It was the marketability that made you choose those words carefully. To this man, if you seemed like no one then maybe he would let you go. Shaking your head to push his touch away, you huffed as you struggled against your ties, gritting your teeth against the burn of the rope. “I-I don’t have cash, I’m sorry I don’t-“ you swallowed, thrashing slightly in your chair as you shook. It was a struggle to try and get your words out, finding it difficult to think coherently when your blood was rushing through your ears, your heart thumped in your stomach. As you tried to find your words to express what else he may have wanted to hear, the man held a finger up to you – silencing you as he shook his head. “I don’t want your things. I don’t need them.” It didn’t come out as a question nor a statement – but fact. He was so sure of himself, so sure of what he didn’t need from you, and that was terrifying.

Bile rose into the back of your throat, fear gnawing at your throat, threatening to spill over. Swallowing down the harsh lump wanting to make an appearance, you narrowed your gaze at the man, twisting your wrists behind your back to loosen the rope; Though it would not budge, you needed to try. “Then why?” It made no sense as to why he plucked you, out of everyone else he could’ve had, off the street. Was I walking home, or was I already home? The night prior was fuzzy, a black hole of mystery you were trying to break through – needing to know how he got you here in the first place. The man huffed as he walked closer to you, kneeling in front of your feet. The way the bright lights glinted off of his eyes, shimmering those golden flecks within, made your heart race – you knew it shouldn’t have. There was no denying how attractive this man was, but an utter fucking psychopath is all he would ever be.

Bringing his hand up to your face, the man caressed your cheek softly with his thumb again, sighing into the touch. “You were too perfect to let go,” he whispered, letting the pad of his thumb glide across your chapped lower lip. The way his pupils dilated when he said that made your stomach simmer, a pleasant ache wiping across the area. Seriously, right now? You cursed mentally to yourself, shamed that you were turned on in the moment. Nothing is sexy, nor exciting about being kidnapped and held against your will – but yet here you are, feeling your panties become soaked at the idea of what this man could do to you. You watched at his prominent nose twitched, his gaze slightly narrowing, his lip curling upwards. Mania laid dormant behind his eyes, threatening to spill over at the smallest of actions from you – it was then that everything made sense, as to who this was. Your breath got stuck in your lungs, refusing to release at the thought.

“You’re that guy, from the Lady Raven concert. Aren’t you?” You couldn’t believe it, all this time and only now did you make the connection. Your palms became waxy with sweat, chafing against the hemp rope as your body broke out in a cold sweat. The shiver in which ran through your body made you anxious, needing to get out of this chair and put a good distance between the two of you. Alas you could not, instead stuck to your chair, watching as his eyes grew darker. His smirk never faltered as he watched you with intent, trying to gauge what you were thinking – what was running through your mind. “Which guy?”  He asked, coyly.

“The Butcher.” You remembered what happened last month; The Lady Raven concert wound up being a giant trap to catch him. He kidnapped her, she escaped. He tried to kill his wife, he was arrested. He broke out of police custody and was on the run. It had been almost a month since that happened and yet – he was still perusing around. He was like a ghost, seemingly never existing after that whole debacle. And yet, even you questioned if you made the right call by saying that. Was it really him, could it really be him? He looked intrigued, curious as to how you made the connection, without him ever revealing it. “You think I’m capable of that?” He shot back with a smile, one that would put anyone else to ease. It was sweet, generous and kind – everything a charismatic serial killer aspired to be. He was unassuming, until you got too close. Shaking your head, you turned away from his grip to stare at his desk, trying to keep your emotions level. “I don’t know what you’re capable of.”

He seemed to have won this time, considering the grin that pasted itself onto his lip. A dark laugh seeped from his parted lips as he watched you, his grip on your face getting a bit stronger; Possessive but not enough to hurt you. It was enough to keep you in your place, to silently berate you if you even tried to do anything. Enough to show you the lack of control you had over the situation. You were trying to wrack your brain for his name, what the news had called him outside of The Butcher. It was on the tip of your tongue and yet, you lacked the capability at the moment to remember. C, it was a C. Carter. Cameron. Conner. Cooper. “Cooper. The news said your name.” A smug tone laced your words as your eyes met his; His cool was lost in that moment. That once calm demeanor he put on, the control over the situation was faltering as you said his name. You could see how his eyes grew wider, his smile tucking into a thin line. “You think we’re on a first name basis?”

Anger was prevalent through his words, the nice-guy act falling to the wayside. Pulling back from you with a blank stare, Cooper stood straight up, glaring down through his lashes at you. It all made so much sense now, he was hoping you didn’t know who he was. A triumphant snicker released from the back of your throat as you grinned, watching him. You were not going to back down, you weren’t going to give into him or what he wanted you to be. At the end of the day you are your own person, there was no fucking way you were letting him have the upper hand. Pissing him off as your goal, and by God you were going to do it. “Of course, no one would suspect you,” the words slipped out of your mouth before you could have thought otherwise. You didn’t purposely try to rile him up, it came naturally. Cooper’s gaze never faltered as he watched you, his face still blank, never letting you know his next move. “Typical trophy husband, savior to the town. God, how fucked up are you?”

Cooper began to move around you as you spoke, the last line made him stand directly behind you. Not being able to see him made you fearful, wondering what he could do to you if you did not know. Would this be the end, would everything just go black and you never have a chance to fight back? Bouncing your legs as you stared forward at the staircase, you felt your pulse thrumming against your neck, in your head, in your chest. "Your mind must be a horrible place.” You weren’t purposely trying to egg him on. You lost your sense of having a filter when you were afraid. It was a defensive mechanism for you when things got to be too much for you, and in this current situation it had a way of pissing Cooper off. Warmth started to spread across your back as Cooper got closer, the heat radiating off of him falling down the back of your neck. Letting your eyes close for a minute, you felt the hot pan of his breath over the shell of your ear, whispering: “You have no idea.”

You hated how your body reacted to his words, how close he was to you, how good it felt. Trying to focus on anything else in the moment was impossible, your mind reveling in the close proximity to him. Cooper’s large hands came to rest against your tank-top clad shoulders, enough force to keep you seated but not enough to hurt you. Enough for him to say I’m in control, versus you. Nuzzling his nose against the nape of your neck, Cooper let his hands run down to your arms, his calloused fingertips grazing your skin. “You want to know what’s on it right now?” There was a hint of possession and lust in his words, causing you to gulp down the pool of saliva in your mouth. Gripping your fingers behind your back, you inhaled sharply, licking your lips as you stared forward. “No.” You tried to sound intimidating, mean, enough to make Cooper fuck off across the room again. But to him, it was endearing. The little fight you had in you, he was intoxicated with. “Why? Scared you might like it?”

You had to give it to Cooper, he was cocky – he knew he was attractive and knew how your body reacted to him. Never would he seize the opportunity to exploit that. The dark chuckle that rang out behind you made your skin feel tight, an electric burn radiating down your spine and across your brain at how sexy it sounded. You loathed how much the sound excited you, how even if this situation you found yourself aroused. The brain rot of dark romance ruined the situation, making this out to be a dream versus reality. Trembling under his touch, he nipped at your earlobe with a groan, pulling back slightly to run his fingers over your hair, gently twirling a few strands framing your face. “I’m picturing all the fun I’m going to have with you.” You didn’t miss the groan he released at the end of the sentence, nor did you miss how his hips jutted against the back of your chair. The harsh denim of his jeans rubbing against your exposed skin. “No one around for miles, they won’t be able to hear you scream.”

The quivered whimper you let out was supposed to be inaudible, only for your ears versus Cooper’s. But alas, your body betrayed you. Hearing that made him sigh dreamily, his body dripping with arousal. Cooper’s hand that was exploring your arm came up to slide up your front, between the valley of your breasts, and settling right against your neck. His thumb and forefinger caressed your pulse points, gripping enough to where you could still breathe but, still cutting off the blood flow to your brain. You couldn’t do much except lean back into him as he did so, his lips caressing over your ear. “I bet you are so loud, I bet you beg and beg until your voice gives out.” He let out huskily, using his teeth to nip right behind your ear. The small jolt of pain caused your eyes to close, your body rolling against the chair. Cooper took this as a sign of your submittal, pressing his lips to that sweet spot on your neck, his tongue rolling over the skin. “Just taking everything I give you, such a greedy girl.”

“You’re a fucking monster,” you thought, trying to hide the fact that it was turning you on. His possessive grab over you, the way he was grinding against your back. You felt so fucked up for being turned on in this situation, you felt grimy even thinking about it. Letting your eyes fall shut, you tried to calm yourself down by thinking of anything but the predicament you’re currently in, trying to regain your mental strength if you were going to get out of this. “Call me that again, baby,” Cooper rasped, causing you to break out of your dissociation. Your eyes flicked open quickly to look at the wall ahead of you, creasing your brow as to why he said that. How could he have heard your internal thoughts? “Fuck, say it again.” Only this time you realized you had spoken those words aloud, causing Cooper to thicken in his pants at your degradation. You shouldn’t have found it intriguing at all, or played into it. But sometimes, the mind wanted to do what the body desperately hoped.

“You sick freak, fuck you.” Cooper whimpered into your ear as he grasped your neck harder, pulling your head back into him as he used his other hand to grab at your clothed breast. Through the thin, ribbed fabric of your tank top – Cooper tweaked you peaked nipple, the cold making it stiff. You hated how easily it was to elicit a moan from you through one simple action, a flow of arousal coating your panties. He wasn’t a gentle man in the slightest – in fact he was quite rough. Pulling at your nipple sent a shot of pain through your body, you couldn’t help but whine. Cooper used his torso to push you forward in the chair, removing the back easily as the wood crashed to the ground. The rickety chair made sense, but you never expected such a modification to it.

“I’m almost there sweetheart, keep going.” Cooper sobbed into your neck, biting the gentle skin around your shoulder.

His hips worked in tandem with his hand; Slipping from your nipple to the front of your leggings. Your body opened up for him, your legs falling quickly so he could slip his hands between. The plushness of your thighs made him quiver, his fingers molding to the covered flesh. He was so desperate for you, grinding against your back as he rubbed over your cunt. He could feel the hotness radiating from it; His self-control waning. The elegant sound of your small cries filled the air, your hips moving against Cooper’s hand. His thumb finding your clit through your leggings, pressing harshly against the bud to elicit a loud sob. “I said keep going,” he growled against your neck, biting tenderly at your flesh.

“Y-You’re psychotic,” you managed to let out, your hips grinding against Cooper’s hand. There were no thoughts in your brain, only enjoying the pleasure of which he was giving you. The fucked up nature of this, mixing with pleasure only made your mind reel at what you were feeling. “True evil.” The words fell out in tandem with Cooper’s moans, with his thrusts against you, with the fluctuating grip of your neck, with the deft circles rubbing between your legs, “horrible, horrible, man.” None of your words held any merit in this moment, they weren’t true slipping out from you. But you didn’t want him to stop, as much as you hated to admit it. You needed to cum, needed Cooper to show you pleasure you hadn’t even been able to make yourself feel. In this moment you were submitting to him, letting him have his way – in hopes for a jaded orgasm.

“That’s a good girl,” Cooper grinned against you, kissing over the bite mark he left. With a few pointed thrusts against your lower back, Cooper let out a hearty moan against your flesh, a small bit of drool slipping down your skin. Each thrust he produced was weaker than the last, signaling that he had reached his orgasm, his climax rocketing through his body. The whimpers he was riding out with his orgasm edged you closer to yours, needing to feel him bring you to the edge. “You’re disgusting.” You were desperate to climax, to cum against your leggings, embarrassing yourself for him. You wanted to do anything and everything in your power to please him, if it meant he wouldn’t stop. Letting your hips work in the same motion his hips were, Cooper pressed the palm of his hand hard against your clothed core, placing a few hard slaps to your center. “Sshh, stop pretending to hate this,” he mocked in your ear, sighing dreamily as he stopped thrusting.

“I know your purposely left the door unlocked for me.” The declaration was like ice water, drenching you from your blissful state and bringing you back into your reality. Shooting your eyes wide open, you spun your head to stare at him, seeing the smirk on his lips as he chortled. “I know that you wanted me to catch you in the shower.” He was relentless, driven by his own post-nut clarity to humiliate you, but he had it all wrong. You didn’t purposely leave your door unlocked, your landlord never bothered to fix it when you complained. This was his retaliation for calling him lazy. In a way it was like he knew your manager never fixed it, taking advantage of it – and you. Shivering under his touch, everything felt like acid. His touch between your legs turned to be too much, causing you to try and pull back. The throbbing of his bite on your shoulder you’re your skin crawl. “C’mon, I know what you’re doing.” He was matter-of-fact with his statement, rolling his eyes to drop the act.

Pulling away from you, Cooper came back around to your front, squatting in a low position to stare at you. The reality of the situation came back to full light as you stared at him, the tears threatening to fall once again. Between the frustration you felt of being denied your orgasm, but also in knowing Cooper waited you out, made you feel hopeless. Turning away so you didn’t meet his eyes, Cooper grabbed your chin softly, not hurting you but needing you to look at him. The reluctance you gave him only made him grow harder for you, the softness in his body for you enhancing. “Just say it and I can make it come true.” He was so out of his mind he genuinely thought you wanted this, instead of it just being clouded by lust. It made you feel physically ill, the fact that you gave into him so easily, you should’ve felt shame…but you felt something else entirely. “Complacency isn’t my thing.” Back at it you were with the stone faced act, not giving him what he wanted. It was in that moment you saw the shift in his eyes, the twitch in his jaw, the tick of his nose. He wasn’t pissed, he was silently fuming at your sudden switch.

Pulling his hand away hard from your chin, Cooper stood up on cracking knees, huffing out in annoyance as he peered down at you. “Too bad.” It was monotoned, lacking any sort of empathy or emotion. He said it like it was an inconvenience, like he was too good for you. It made your body reel with anger and fury, the silent rage brewing beneath your skin. Cooper walked away from you and to the back corner, enough out of the way to where you couldn’t see him, fuck you could barely hear what he was doing. The faint sound of liquid being muffled by something made you feel worried, trying to clumsily work the knots in your bindings. You tried to hide your thrashing but it was no use, you were full blown panicking as his footsteps drew closer. It’s when the sound of boots hitting the concrete stopped, that you felt scared.

Cooper grasped hard at your hair, yanking at the root to pull your head back to him, forcing you to stare up at him. “Stay fucking still.” Cooper seethed as he pressed a cloth hard against your mouth, covering your nose completely. Panic radiated through your body as you were bound, a cloth covering your mouth and the ability to breathe taken away from you. The harsh grip he had on your hair made your tears fall, your lungs burn from lack of oxygen. Gulping hard into the covering of your mouth, the sickly sweet taste and smell coating your tongue like an ugly film – breathing in the chemical made your lungs burn. The corner of your vision started to blur, getting fuzzier the deeper your breathed in. Cooper’s face morphed horrifically above you – the evil smirk and glint in his eyes staring intently at you. You felt your body to limp, your muscles seizing to work, your struggles subsiding as everything shifted to black. The only thing you remembered before you passed out, was how Cooper stared at you. It was primal, waiting for his prey. You, were never going back home. That broken lock, cemented your fate.

-----

Tagging: @minedofmoria @lilly3434 @lunaluvsuu @rplver @kissofdawn666 @hibiskooks @fore45fore @lustskitty69 @rottenangel @anamiad00msday @livelaughl0ve3 @cxrrodedcoffin @greenparadiseperry @ochoag31 @theoraekenslover @fl4weriesworld @exhoism @solarmoonn30 @babygorewhore @amethystblackkchaos

[strangererotica]

table of ‘cuntents,’ below 👇

art the clown x reader

art was here ✨devil in the details✨the art of fucking ✨miles county haunt✨blood lust ✨santa’s little helper ✨santa’s little helper part 2

cooper adams x reader

headcanons (nsfw) ✨red flags ✨ your attention ✨my other cooper fics are posted on my exclusively cooper/trap blog @thebutchersbitch

steve harrington x reader

lesson learned ✨april showers ✨ delirium ✨ need ✨ dinner for one ✨ drain the snake ✨ baby-making weather ✨ honey ✨ afternoon delight ✨ brunch ✨ after party ✨campsite conception ✨ whiskey with a stranger ✨in the shower with steve ✨kitchen floor ✨toxic ex

james logan howlett (wolverine) x reader

primal fuck love ✨ swallow

joel miller x reader

definitely good ✨hands on

jim hopper x reader

hopper’s sin part 1 ✨ hopper’s sin part 2 ✨ hopper’s sin part 3 ✨ under cover ✨ love spell part 1 ✨ love spell part 2 ✨ nsfw alphabet (hopper) ✨ dolled up part 1 ✨ enemies to lovers (hopper) ✨ hot lunch ✨dolled up part 2 ✨golden and alive ✨wrong

william afton / springtrap x reader

sick fuck ✨freak on purpose

steddie x reader

two holes, one dom ✨ wet as sin ✨the devil in hawkins ✨ two towels ✨love and treason (gladiator au)

eddie munson x reader

get off ✨bark ✨ devil eyes ✨ it’s wetter inside ✨motel sex

steve, eddie, hopper x reader

dealer part 1 ✨ dealer part 2

anthony bridgerton x reader

intensity ✨ soaked ✨ soaked part 2

mike schmidt x reader

just tell me when you’ve had enough ✨visiting mike late-night at freddy’s

gator tillman x reader

tight fit

[nxtaliaistyping]

Cooper Adams | p links part two

(Gotta be logged into Twitter for links to work)

Nsfw 18+, part one here.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Loves to fuck your mouth

Fingering you in a public place

When he’s tired, he fucks you so sweetly

His wife would never let him try anal, won’t you?

After kidnapping someone, he rifled through her things to find a gift to bring back for you. Instead, he found some sex toys to use on you

You young people are always on your phones, don’t worry, he’ll make do

Work for his cock, show him how much you love it

Loves taking you in places he sits with his wife (or at least, used to)

He makes you do this before giving him a blowjob

You’ll give him another kid, won’t you?

After you confess to him how hot you’d find him kidnapping you would be, he makes your fantasy a reality

Now he doesn’t need to worry about his wife finding out, he can buy hotel rooms all he wants

He loves alt girls, especially girls with dyed hair. Thinks you look so free spirited and beautiful

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

[bloodibambiidoll]

The Butcher’s Angel ⟡ Cooper Abbott x Reader ⟡

✬ You go to see your bestfriend after a failed hook up and her dad, who you’re just slightly obsessed with, is the only one home ✬

This one goes out to my shawties @cxrrodedcoffin & @babygorewhore ily sister wives🤍

Warnings: Bestfriend’s dad!Cooper, made up daughter, talk of murder(he’s a serial killer, duh), obsessive behaviors, blood, glove kink, spit, blow job, hair pulling, daddy kink, choking, biting, marking, size kink, reader has tattoos and scars, unprotracted sex, pet names (angel, kitty, etc.) 18+MDNI!

Your fist bangs your best friend’s door for the fourth time and you’re starting to think she isn’t home. Which is odd, considering that her car is in the driveway and as far as you know she didn’t have plans tonight. And you tell each other everything. Which is why you came straight here when the guy you’ve been hooking up with stood you up again. As far as you can tell her dad’s car isn’t here either and you really don’t feel like going home to your empty apartment sad and alone. So you decide to just open the keypad on the garage side door and let yourself in. If she isn’t here asleep she’s probably out with her dumb ass boyfriend and will be back later on. You’ll just wait for her. No big deal. Or so you thought.

Mr. Abbot’s car is in the garage and the door to inside is open and you can hear rustling around in the kitchen. Your heart rate suddenly picks up because if she’s not here and he is, that means you’re alone with him. And you might have the tiniest obsession with your best friend’s dad. He’s just so kind. And handsome. He is so tall and firm, you just know you’d feel small in his thick arms. His smile is warm and inviting and there’s always been a place at his table for you for as long as you and Lina have been friends. And you know he’d fuck you like a real man should. Dominate you entirely and make you his. Especially considering that he was the butcher. You know he has some pent up energy to get out. And you’d love for him to use your body to do just that. You don’t care how sick that makes you.

You didn’t mean to find out. You were snooping around in his room one day when Lina was in the shower, just innocent curiosity. But what you stumbled upon was anything but innocent when you opened a hidden drawer in his wardrobe and found a duffel bag filled with tools and sedatives. It wouldn’t have been that out of the ordinary if it wasn’t for the hidden camera monitor. When you turned it on there was a man in a basement begging for his life. You panicked and quickly put everything back exactly how you found it. Afterwards you sat with the information for days. But in the end you decided not to go to the police. Instead your crush on him grew into obsession. You followed the butcher’s every move through the news. You knew his work schedule from the calendar on the fridge. He didn’t have any social media but that didn’t stop you from staring at the few photos on your best friend’s profile, analyzing every detail of his body.

You’d lay in bed at night and fantasize about him coming home after and kill and fucking you covered in his victims blood. You’ve spent hours dreaming about the way his thick cock would feel stretching you out and how fucking sexy his body would look over yours while he pounded you into the mattress. It was starting to become a problem, he was taking over your every waking thought and even your dreams too. You aren’t sure if you want your best friend to be home anymore. Part of you wishes she won’t be. And it’ll be him, waiting to make all your dreams come true.

You take hesitant steps forward, your platform Mary Jane's squeaking against the cement of the garage floor. When you break the threshold you don’t see anyone at first, it’s only when you step in far enough to get a view of the dining room that you see him. Cooper. He’s sitting at the head of the table with his hands that are covered in black leather gloves folded in his lap, looking toward you with a welcoming smile. One not unlike the ones he gives you any other time you come over. But his eyes hold a hint of something else, there’s a tension there, a slight twitch in the corner that you probably wouldn’t notice if you hadn’t spent hours analyzing the features of his face.

“Oh! Mr. Abbot!” You squeak out as your steps come to a halt, your hand raising in an awkward wave. “I didn’t think you’d be home I was looking for -“

“You think you’re sneaky, but you’re not…” Cooper’s tone is warm but there’s a hint of condescendence there. Like you’re a silly little girl that knows nothing while he knows everything and more. “See, at first I thought maybe my daughter was snooping through my things. And that, that, would’ve been an entirely different disaster. But once I realized it was you. Well, I spent some time wondering what to do with you and looking at you now, I think I finally have an answer to my question…”

“I - I’m not sure what you mean?” Your spine tingles and your entire body shakes in anticipation of his answer.

“Oh, don’t play dumb, sweetheart.” Cooper chuckles darkly, his large hands flexing in the leather gloves causing them to squeak lightly and his boot clad foot starts to bounce slightly on the wood floor. Each move he makes only causes your heart rate to increase. With fear or desire you aren’t sure. Probably both. “I know you got into my bag. You thought I wouldn’t notice? You didn’t think I’d notice the way you look at me like you not only fear for your life but also want me to fuck you like a little bitch in heat? Just like you are right now.”

“Mr. Abbot, I don’t know what you’re -“

“Hush. Stop trying to lie to me. Come here.” His tone remains level and welcoming despite the commanding words on his lips and you can’t help but clench your thighs together when he snaps his gloved hand before pointing a large finger to the ground in front of him. Your legs carry you toward him almost subconsciously as you scurry across the room to stand in front of the man that’s filled all your sickest fantasies for months. You stop a foot shy from him and look down at him nervously with your hands folded in front of you. “You’re so beautiful and so naive. You wanna know how I found you out?”

“Sir, listen, I really didn’t mean to invade your privacy. I was just looking for Lina but if she’s not here right now that’s totally okay! I can just go!” Your words are rushed and you talk exaggeratedly with your hands, it makes Cooper chuckle as he shakes his head lightly.

“I told you to stop lying to me.” He smiles up at you but this one is different from before, there’s a twitch in the corner of his eye and in the tilt of his lips. Almost like one wrong word would make him snap. “Don’t act like you aren’t excited that it’s just us here. I know you are. Do you want to know how I know? Say yes.”

“Yes, sir.” His tone doesn’t hold room for argument so you just nod as you wring your hands together in front of you and sway on the balls of your feet.

“I know because you thought I wouldn’t notice you snooping around in my room and taking my things but you were wrong. I know because I have exactly 8 plain black t-shirts and ever since the day things in my special bag were rummaged around I’ve only had 7. I know because you know my deep dark secret, and have for months now. But you’ve still come over here regularly, you’re alone with me and instead of fleeing you came at my command like a kitten to milk.”

You aren’t sure what to say because he’s right. You did steal one of his shirts and go through his bag. You’ve done things with that shirt that you’d never willingly admit out loud and you’ve spent countless nights mulling over the content of that bag. Cooper takes your silence as a chance to reach out and cover your hands with one of his large gloved ones. And it’s only then do you realize that the black adorning his hands is covered in crimson liquid. Blood. A small gasp leaves your lips but you don’t move from his hold as you look down at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“But my question was, why didn’t you tell anyone? Hmm? I wasn’t positive until right now. But you don’t mind, do you? You’re drawn to this… darkness. If you weren’t you would’ve gone to the cops. If you weren’t, you’d be running right now.” He tongue darts out to wet his lips as his eyes roam your figure as if he’s contemplating what to do with you. “I thought I’d have to kill you, you know? I was trying to think of the best way to make it look like an accident, to make sure it wouldn’t come back on me. But I think you’ll be far more fun for me alive.”

“Sir…” You’re shaking where you stand, your entire body feels like it’s on fire. But not with fear. Shock and desire fill your very being and crawl into every crevice of your soul.

“God. Do you realize what it does to me when you call me that, little girl? It makes my cock twitch in ways it shouldn’t. Everything about you makes me want you in disgusting ways.” Cooper’s fingers tighten around yours and it causes his hand to brush against your dress slightly, streaking the white material with red. His eyes widen as he lets out a hard breath through his nose. “Take it off. It’s ruined. Take it off.”

“What?” Your jaw drops as you look down at him, did he really just ask you to take your dress off?

“Take. The. Dress. Off.” Cooper growls, the leather covering his hand coming up to grasp onto the material of your dress and pull you the rest of the way close to him. The look in his eyes is crazed as he stares at the red streaking the soft material. “Take it off and throw it in the fire. It’s ruined. The only thing I want to see ruined is you.”

His tone oozes authority and leaves no room for argument. It has your pussy clenching around nothing as your fingers lace through the hem of your dress and pull it over your head before you even fully realize you’ve obliged him. You’re left in nothing but a tiny pink thong, your little white socks, and your Mary Jane’s. The dress flattered your tits perfectly so you decided against a bra. Cooper groans low in his throat at the sight of your body on display for him. You’re even more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. And he’s imagined you, that’s for sure. He’s spent hours fantasizing about what you’d look like all spread out beneath him or with your pouty, glossed lips wrapped around his shaft. He tried to fight it at first, he’s old enough to be your father but in the end that glint in your eye was what flashed through his vision while he tugged the cum from his cock.

“Go throw it in the fire and then come back and kneel before me, angel.” Angel. This isn’t the first time he’s called you that. But this time his voice is dripping with lust and it makes your head spin. You follow his instructions, you walk to the small lit fireplace on the other side of the dinning room and throw your dress into the flames. You get lost watching it get eaten by the fire for a few moments before the sound of Cooper snapping his fingers brings you back to reality and sends you scurrying across the room to him. You hold eye contact with him as you lower yourself onto your knees in front of him where you fold your hands in your lap and good up at him expectantly.

“Look at you. So obedient.” Cooper smiles down at you fondly as he takes you in. The little tattoos littering your body. Your gorgeous tits. The scars on your body that make you perfectly imperfect. He wants to tear you apart even more. But there’s something else that he’s never really felt there before too. The need to put you back together after. He hand grips your jaw causing the blood covering the leather to smear across your chin and you should be disgusted but it makes your core quiver. “So beautiful. Open that pretty mouth for me, angel.”

You obey, just like he knew you would. He’s had you wrapped around his finger for months and you’ve been none the wiser. You weren’t the only one keeping tabs, he’s been watching you too. Waiting for his chance to pounce and now he finally has you right where he wants you. On your knees, with your tongue hanging out of your mouth, looking up at him eagerly waiting to take anything he will give you. His gloved hand grips your chin before he leans down and spits on your tongue. You swallow without even asking and it makes his already rock hard cock twitch when a little hum leaves your lips. Cooper uses his free hand to unbuckle his belt so he can pull his cock out. Your eyes shine like you just found a treasure you’ve been searching years for as you take in the length and thickness of it, a bead of precum dripping down the tip. Cooper’s hand cups the back of your head, smearing red crimson in your hair as he pulls your head down toward his throbbing dick. It’s perfect, if you’re being honest. No guys your age have even come close to this and you know he’s going to ruin you for any other man.

“Yeah, baby, that’s a man’s dick. Why don’t you be a good girl and suck it for me?” You flick your tongue out and lick him from the base to the tip before lightly taking his head in your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. You tease the tip a little more before taking as much of him down your throat as you can and swallowing around him. “Oh, fuck, yes, that’s so good. Good little kitty.”

You pull back to spit on his dick before taking him down your throat again, massaging the underside with your tongue. You bring your hand to pump the small amount of him you can’t fit down your throat in time with the bobs of your head and Cooper thinks he might go insane.

He hasn’t felt like he was going to cum from a blow job this fast since he was in his early twenties. Your free hand comes up to palm his balls that are slick from your drool dripping down his cock and it causes him to practically growl. The hand on the back of your head shoves you all the way down on his cock. He fucks your face at a brutal pace, reveling in the way your drool, gag, and moan around him. He fucks your face until he feels himself nearing his end. Cooper grips your hair into a ponytail so he can pull you off his cock and take you in. Your make-up is running down your cheeks and the blood he smeared on your face mixes with the drool dripping down your chin to between your beautiful tits. Your hair is mused from him tugging on it and you’re looking up at him like you’d do any single thing he’d ask. He’s never seen anything more perfect.

“What a perfect mess I’ve made.” Cooper smiles down at you sweetly rubbing his bloodied hand across your cheek a final time before leaning back to pull the gloves off. They squeak as he takes them off his big hands that you’ve spent hours fantasizing about and your eyes may as well have hearts in the center. His hand reaches out to caress your blood free cheek and he glides it down your jaw, your neck and down your shoulder before continuing down to the valley of your breasts. He traces the curves of them before taking them in his hands and squeezing, pulling the prettiest little moan from you. “You’re so fucking soft. Stand up for me, princess.”

You push yourself up off your knees so you can stand in front of him, your head barely reaching the top of his due to the sheer size of him. Cooper reaches out and roughly grabs your hips, pulling you between his muscular thighs. He leans forward to place rough messy kisses on your tits, one of his hands finding purchase on your ass and the other traveling between your legs. His fingers caress the lacy material of your dripping thong and he groans against your chest. Cooper presses his fingers against your clit through the material and rubs firm circles while taking a nipple into his mouth and it has you throwing your head back with a loud moan.

“Oh, baby, you’re so fucking wet for me.” Cooper pushes your thong to the side so he can run his fingers through your slick pussy lips, gathering your wetness. He pulls his hand up, examining the way your juices shine and string together on his fingers in the low light. He takes them into his mouth and you watch his eyes roll back at your taste. “And oh, so fucking sweet. I bet you’re tight too. Let’s find out.”

Cooper’s fingers run through your folds again before he uses two of them to circle your entrance and thrusts them knuckle deep inside of you. He curls them just right while pressing the heel of his palm against your pulsing clit and it makes you feel like you’re going to cum embarrassingly fast. He pumps his fingers in and out of you quick and deep, hitting all the perfect angles. All while switching between firmly grabbing each of your asscheeks and sucking eagerly on your tits. He lands a harsh smack on your ass right as his fingers caress your g-spot and it has white hot pleasure washing over your body.

“Oh my god, oh fuck, I’m cumming!” You whine as your hips subconsciously thrust against his hand while you ride out your high. Cooper fucks you through it, not pulling away until your body starts to go limp. The sight of him bringing his fingers to his lips again and licking them clean like he’s savoring every morsel of your taste makes you dizzy.

“Mmm, next time I’ll have to taste that sweet pussy from the source. But, right now I need to feel you squeezing my cock. Come sit on it.” He leans back in the chair so he can unbutton his shirt and you literally feel a bit of drool drip out of your mouth at the sight of his perfect body. Cooper folds his shirt neatly and sets it on the table and then he pats his thighs as he looks up at you expectantly. You don’t waste any time straddling him on the wooden kitchen table chair with your hips raised slightly. He takes his cock in his hand and runs it through your wet folds before tapping the slick head against your swollen clit. He lines up with your entrance and you surprise the hell out of him by slamming your hips down flush against his, taking him all in one thrust. The stretch burns, but god, the feeling of him filling you up outweighs it tenfold.

“Oh fuck, you’re so big.” You whine and throw your arms around his neck, pressing your bare chest against his broad one. It pushes him deeper inside of you and you both moan at the feeling.

“And you’re so fucking tight.” Cooper growls in your ear before looping one arm around your waist and the other behind your back so he can grip onto your shoulder. He plants his boot clad feet flat on the ground and starts to fuck up into you roughly. You lean down and place messy open mouth kisses on his throat, you latch your lips onto him and start to suck and he grabs onto your hair and yanks your head off of him in response. “No marks. Don’t forget we aren’t supposed to be doing this.” Those words should disgust you, send you running for the door. But the reminder that this is so fucking wrong only makes your walls clench around him.

“Sorry, daddy, you just taste so good.” You whine and look into his normally chocolate eyes that are now nearly all black. His nostrils flare and he yanks your head further, exposing the column of your throat. He latches onto your neck and bites so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if it left a bruise. If that didn't, the way he was sucking on your skin right now was absolutely going to. His brutal thrusts never let up as bites down again before pulling away and planting a gentle kiss on the mark already forming there.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t claim you. You can blame it on one of your little boyfriends, I don’t have that luxury, sweetheart.” Cooper grips onto you tightly as he stands from the chair and manhandles you onto the table on your back. One of his big calloused hands grips onto your throat tightly, pinning you against the wood beneath you. “And I don’t think you know what you just did with that little nickname. You’re never escaping me now.” He chuckles darkly before slamming his hips against yours so hard the table squeaks and threatens to scoot across the sleek wooden floor. The hand on your throat doesn’t let up as he fucks you with reckless abandon. “Say it again.”

“Daddy! You feel so good! I don’t want to escape you! I’m yours! Please keep me!” You aren’t sure if you’re begging for him to fuck you again after this or if you’re pleading for him to not take your life but you think it might be a little bit of both.

“You’re a dirty little girl, aren’t you?” Cooper’s free hand grips onto your jaw, forcing eye contact. “Obsessing over an old man. A killer. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Anything you want daddy, my life belongs to you now.” And you mean it, even if he decides to kill you after this you’d be able to accept that because of how good he’s fucking you right now.

“Oh, you’d give your life to me?” Cooper looks at you almost inquisitively for a moment, like he’s really taking in your words. “That’s just… adorable.”

He smirks at you before leaning down to connect your lips in a brutal kiss. His tongue snakes its way into your mouth and dominates your own, exploring every inch. He’s fucking you so hard now that the table is tilting on its legs and the hand on your jaw snakes between your legs to find your clit. Cooper sucks your tongue into his mouth and your manicured nails scratch down his back causing him to moan loudly around it. You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, pressing your heels into the fat of his ass to pull him deeper inside you. Your hips raise up to meet his own as you fuck like animals. Cooper’s hand on your throat squeezes so tight it makes you dizzy and when he leans down to bite your lip so hard it draws blood it sends you over the edge. Your pussy convulses around his cock as your nails dig into his back so deep he wouldn’t be surprised if you broke the skin. He wouldn’t mind if you did. At least he could hide those.

“I’m going to fill this little pussy up and claim you with my cum. You’re mine now.” Cooper grips your hips, pulling your body down to meet his unforgiving thrusts as he chases his own high. It doesn’t take long for his cock to twitch inside you as he fills you with ropes of his cum. He grinds his hips against yours until every last drop fills you before looking down at your fucked out form. “You’re an absolute mess, my perfect fucking mess. My good girl.” Cooper hums and his hand comes up to caress your blood and spit covered cheek as he admires you like a priceless painting. “I’m going to keep you. I ought to lock you up so you can’t ever escape me..”

Divider by @anitalenia

[littleoddwriter]

Special Little Lamb | Cooper Abbott x GenderNeutral!Reader | Dark Fic

Hey there! This fic is inspired by this textpost and @hibiskooks' tags, which led to further thoughts on my part and then the urge to turn them into a whole short story (hence why I linked my own reblog on my horror sideblog because it shows both our tags and the thought process). Understandably, it's a dark fic, albeit romantic this time, unlike my previous Cooper fic, hjdkhsjk! I hope you'll enjoy it! summary; You were once a captive of the Butcher, but as it so happened, you formed a deep connection with him and are now helping him with his victims. One of them tries to get through to you to help them out of the basement, but hadn't realised your status as the Butcher's favourite. You have a tattoo to prove it, though, and so does he. notes/warnings; Gender Neutral!Reader; Dark Fic; Reader used to be a Victim (still is, if you will); Reader most definitely has Stockholm Syndrome and is Morally Grey/Dark; Implied/Mentioned Murders; Active Captivity of a Female Victim; Abuser/Victim Relationship (if we're being realistic); Ableist Language (once); Partner Tattoos; Hints at Sexual Acitivity, but nothing Explicit whatsoever; Kissing.

With practised ease, you opened the several locks, and then the door they were a part of, down to the basement in the usually vacant house in a small neighbourhood on the outskirts of Philadelphia. The door opened with a loud squeak. You made a mental note to remind Cooper to oil the hinges, again. 

As if on cue, you could hear chains being dragged across the concrete floor and frantic rattling of metal against metal. 

Carefully, you went downstairs to the basement, where a woman in her thirties was held captive. She sat on the ground in the middle of the room, and the chains of her cuffs were attached to the far wall. 

“I’m a little late today, I know. Sorry,” you told her gently, shooting her an apologetic smile. 

For a long moment, she just looked at you, while you were walking over to her and then crouching across from her. And just like you did the previous times you visited her, you retrieved a protein bar and a small bottle of water from a bag, handing each item to her. 

The woman, Anna, ripped them out of your hands, scooting further away from you when she did, like a small, wild and scared animal. It was almost amusing to you. There was no reason for her to be scared of you, after all.

In silence, you watched her devour the protein bar and down the water in one go. You really had been late that day. 

Once she was done, you stood back up, picked up the trash and put it back into your bag. Cooper didn’t like to leave it there in the basement, and so you didn’t either. 

You were about to start your way upstairs again when the woman called out to you, “Wait!”

Turning around to face her, you made a small noise, indicating that you were listening.

“You don’t have to do any of this… please… just let me go. You could just unlock the cuffs and leave the door open. He doesn’t have to know! Please!” she pleaded with you, tears in her eyes and desperation clear in her voice, “I won’t tell anyone, okay? I promise. I won’t tell anyone that you’re involved.” 

This was the fifth time she begged you to let her go. She was more persistent than most of the others ever had been. Or maybe she’d just been there long enough to come up to five separate occasions of pleading for her life to be spared. 

Sighing softly, you shook your head, “No. I can’t do that, I’m sorry.” You crouched down across from Anna once more, making eye contact with her. Then, you pointed to the far edge of the ceiling above and behind you, looking back at her. “He has a camera here. He’d know if I helped you. And even if he wouldn’t… I’m not ruining this for him.”

Sometimes, Cooper liked to take his time with them. This having been one of them. Although, you knew that a lot of it had to do with his work. He had to do extra shifts and stay on call these past two weeks because they were short staffed at the firehouse, due to injuries that affected half of the regular team and rendered them unable to work for a while. 

It was only a matter of time until Cooper had the chance to commit several hours to this woman in front of you. But for the time being, you had to keep paying her visits to bring her snacks and drinks, and let her use the toilet in the back of the basement, just so she’d stay alive long enough. 

To keep them for more than a week was risky, though.

“Why are you doing this?” Anna asked you after a beat, changing tactics apparently, because this question was new. “I recognise you. I saw you on the news a few years ago. You went missing, too.”

Frowning, you let out a deep exhale, “I know what you’re trying to do. It’s not gonna work, so stop it.”

“What did he do to you? Is he forcing you?” she pressed anyway, unsurprisingly ignoring what you said.

Groaning softly in annoyance, you got up, stretching your back. You looked down at her, seeing nothing but a desperate woman, who was grasping at straws to ensure safety. Unfortunately for Anna, her pleas would only be ignored, since you had no interest in helping her.

“He’s not forcing me. I chose to stay and help,” you told her, then. 

For you, this was the end of this conversation, but Anna clearly wasn’t ready to let it stay that way, reaching out to you and gripping your wrists tightly, her chains clanking loudly. At the suddenness of all this, you flinched, trying to shake her off of you. 

“Let go of me!” you hissed at her.

“No! Listen to me,” she urged you, her grasp unexpectedly strong, “I don’t believe you. He must have convinced you that this is what you wanted, told you things, threatened you. Why would you ever willingly stay with a monster like him?”

“He’s not a monster!” you interrupted her, raising your voice at her.

Anna wasn’t deterred by it, though, “He kills people! Keeps them in this crappy basement until he’s done with them. He’s a monster. People don’t do that. And you know that he’ll get to you at some point, too.

“Do you really think that he’ll spare you forever? You might be useful to him now, but there’ll be a point where you make a mistake or he just gets bored of you. And I mean, why wouldn’t he? You’re nothing to him! He’ll find somebody else, somebody less damaged than you. And when he does, he’ll discard you, like you never meant anything. Because you don’t. Not to him.

“But if you help me out of here, we can go together. And we’ll get help, okay? He won’t hurt you anymore. You’ll be free, we both will,” she finished her little speech, breathing heavily, frantically, once she was done, and looking up at you with wild eyes, just hoping to get through to you.

There was no denying that she’d hit a nerve in you, but not in the way she had hoped.

Your brow twitched as you tried to keep your immediate rage at bay. 

Instead, you composed yourself with a couple of deep breaths, feeling Anna let go of your arms when she seemed to think that she was starting to achieve her goal with you. 

With a flourish, you pulled the long sleeve of your jacket up, exposing your inner left wrist to Anna’s questioning eyes, which widened almost instantly when she saw the tattoo on your skin. It was a black thin lined tattoo of a meat cleaver in front of a background that appeared almost ethereal, despite how minimalistic it was. But she quickly connected the dots. Cooper had a tattoo just like it, only that instead of a meat cleaver, it was a lamb at the centre. 

“I’m his favourite, you know? We got these tattoos about a year ago. He told me that he wanted something to represent me on his skin, as well, when I begged him to let me get a tattoo that would remind me of him. I didn’t ask him to get one, or make any sort of suggestion to wanting that. But he did it anyway. Because he wanted that reminder of me,” you explained the tattoos to Anna, who just looked at you in disbelief. 

With a pleased smile on your lips, you slid the sleeve back down to cover your arm again. 

“‘The Butcher’s little Lamb’ is what he told me when we got home after the tattoo appointment,” you told her softly with a wistful smile as you reminisced, “He let me go. But I stayed. I begged him to let me be useful to him. And he did, because I’m special to him.”

“You’re crazy,” Anna spat out in disgust at what she was hearing.

“And you’re nothing. To him, or me. Or anyone,” you retorted easily, “You see, in a few weeks, you’ll be nothing but a faint memory. And in a few months, you’ll be nothing but another number. And for me, you’ll be nothing but that beautiful bracelet you wore when he abducted you.”

This time, Anna had nothing more to say, it seemed, as she slumped back in defeat. You took the chance to finally pick your bag up again and go back upstairs, locking the door behind you to the sound of faint cries.

When you arrived at yours and Cooper’s house, you already saw his car in the driveway, making you feel excited to see him again. It was tough for you to be apart from him while he was working. 

Inside, you came to a sudden halt, though, seeing Cooper lean against the doorway to the foyer of your house, idly playing with his phone in his hands. You didn’t expect him to wait there for you, but instantly relaxed when you saw that he was smiling at you. It was one of his gentle smiles that always melted your heart, just like it did now.

“Hey, little Lamb,” he greeted you softly.

Feeling your heart flutter, your face brightened as you beamed at Cooper, walking over to him, as he pocketed his phone and loosely wrapped his arms around your waist, looking at you with a pleased expression.

“I heard what you were telling poor Anna there,” he whispered, “I thought I’d check on you two when I got home earlier, seeing as you weren’t here when you should have been.”

Averting your gaze in shame, you apologised, “I know, I’m sorry. I was cleaning the house and lost track of time, so I left later than usual. It won’t happen again.”

Cooper clicked his tongue quietly, using his left hand to gently take hold of your jaw and move your head to make you look back up at him. “Hey, it’s all right. I was just worried that something might’ve happened,” he told you soothingly.

There was nothing in the world that could compare to the feeling you got when Cooper showed that you were important to him. 

“You did a good job, you know?” Cooper continued, then, still speaking in a soft, gravelly tone, “She was out of line with all those cruel things she said to you. And trust me, I’ll make her pay for it very soon. I promise. I’m proud of you for handling it the way you did.”

Those words had such an instantaneous effect on you, causing you to feel hot all over, warm and fuzzy inside your chest as your heart seemed to swell with pride. 

“Thank you,” you giggled happily, unable to contain your giddiness. 

Praise such as this wasn’t something you were used to, and Cooper wouldn’t have said it if he hadn’t meant every word. You felt like you were on top of the world.

Cooper’s fingers were still gently wrapped around your jaw, now moving upward, his fingertips grazed your lips and cheeks before his palm settled and cupped your face. His dark eyes met yours. His gaze was soft, yet piercing nonetheless, and it took your breath away, just like it always did. There was no escape from his all-consuming presence. It was dominating your every sense.

Leaning his head further down, Cooper’s lips hovered above yours. “I think you’ve earned yourself a reward,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours as he spoke.

You couldn’t do anything but make an excited sound in the back of your throat, while your hands were tightly gripping his shirt, where you held onto him on his chest, right below his shoulders. 

Amused, Cooper breathed out a small chuckle before pressing his mouth against yours in a lovingly heated kiss that conveyed just what kind of reward he had in mind for you. You instantly melted into the kiss, reciprocating it as best as you could while your entire body and mind felt like they were on fire. Even after a couple of years of this, it never ceased to amaze and overwhelm you. 

And when you later lay in bed, bodies intertwined and in their most natural states, your finger was lazily and gently tracing the lines of the tattoo on Cooper’s right wrist. The tattoo that was a reminder, a representation of you, for him. You couldn’t suppress the smile when the happiness you associated with that rushed over you.  

“My special little Lamb,” Cooper whispered, watching your dreamy face as you kept tracing along the tattoo, and pressed another kiss to your temple and then your cheek and your lips again. This time, it was a gentle show of affection, which you happily accepted, soaking up every moment of it.

Soon, Anna would realise just how wrong she had been about you and Cooper.

[dirtylittlefairytales]

Don't play with fire | - Part 1 - |

Authors Note: Hey. This is my first try ever writing in English, since it's not my first language. I read it over several times, hopefully to correct all mistakes. Also this is the first try of fanfiction since 2016. Sooo I appreciate feedback and let me know what you think.. Please be kind. 🙏🥹

Originally I wanted to write a short backstory, but I think it’s just going to be multiple parts if you want to read it. So see this as a kind of introduction. In further chapters I wanted to try myself to write my smut fantasies out. I'm also going to upload this later to Ao3 under the username Lorily96.

-> Writing in 'italic' is supposed to be the your thoughts

Warnings: Describing of a Panic attack, Age Gap (Legal)

Word count: 8k

Tagging: @a-movie-that-youve-never-seen, @amethystblackkchaos, @hereforthehitsbaby

Some people say life is a cruel joke. Unexpected twists and pain waiting around every corner. Some people say the glass is never empty and everything happens for a reason. You can learn from anything.  Everyone you meet is either there for a reason, for a season or... for ever. However the world is not black and white, sometimes there is no reason at all. You know how you sometimes laugh when something bad happens to a stranger or friend. Like their ice cream falling to the ground, seeing a cop writing a ticket for somebody else. I think ‘Life’ itself is bored just like us. That's why sometimes you feel like it’s only getting worse. Doesn’t matter what you do, there is no luck to be found. That's exactly how you felt that day. Just strings of bad luck and to this day you still question yourself. Why? Why didn’t you say something? Why did you do it? Why didn’t you walk away? How did all of this happen in the first place? The events of that day living rent-free in your head, keeping you up at night.

~ Sometimes Life has a dark and twisted humor. ~

All those overprotective dads, who only want the best for their daughter. Your dad was one of them. He always told you: "Be wary of strangers", "Never tell someone your name if you feel something is off", “Go with your gut feeling” and "don't go near the car of a stranger". Seriously, he had good points.

Unfortunately, he didn’t tell you what to do, when you suspect someone is a serial killer. Maybe running or keeping your nose out of the situation would have been a great option. Well, since daddy had been out of the picture since you were 12, maybe he would have some kind of advice for that. Your mom had found out he was cheating, and after the divorce, he cared more about his new girlfriend and son than you. Why care about the daughter you raised for 12 years, your beloved wife, when you can just throw it away and play happy family with the next woman you find.

At times, you wonder if that's the reason you had some kind of daddy issues. Perhaps you liked older men like him because of that. Even today, his face still haunts and excites you at the same time. Remembering how drawn you were to him. He was so charming and devilishly handsome. You felt sick and appalled at yourself for feeling this way. Everything he did, seemed to play into his hands. Who would suspect the nice and charming dad next door? How many times did you lay awake in bed at night, the events of that day replaying themselves over and over. Like a continuous loop with no escape… 

It felt like yesterday. The only reason you were at the concert in the first place was because one of the other guys quit a week before. You couldn’t even blame him, since your boss was a total dick. Ever since you started working in the company a year ago he was just looking for a reason to fire you. Always criticizing you, commenting when your bathroom break was too long. Wore a skirt? Too provocative. Wore a sweater? Be more professional. You could make a whole list of the things he pulled off. You fucking hated working in that place and even more to work outside or around many people. You chose to work in IT because you could work alone and in peace. 

Outside of work, you were a relatively social person. Many friends and people seemed to like you. Despite preferring to rather stay home alone, with your cat and books, you were surprisingly good at making conversations. It felt strange, kind of ironic. Life had a stupid sense of humor. Sometimes you even felt like you were good at reading people. Your mom called it your sixth sense.

Working at the arena for the concert was a real hassle. It was so stressful. Over a week before the actual concert there was already a meeting. Everybody working in the stadium that night was there. They didn’t reveal too much that day. Apparently the whole concert was also a trap for this serial killer? 

They called him - The Butcher 

You remember hearing and reading about him in the news. He had killed 12 people till now and the FBI was sure he was going to show up there. Everything was top secret, everyone had an extra card for controls during that day and a code word. On the day of the concert you arrived extra early to get the last directions for the day. They even told you what he potentially could look like.

Work was boring. The company you were working for was responsible for ensuring that all the screens, cameras were working, both on the outside and on the stage, that the wifi was stable and so on… not the hardest task. There also were others who ensured the overall technology and speakers worked, but that wasn’t your job. Most of the time you and your colleague were sitting backstage, talking shit about your boss and listening to the show, at least you were, because lovely colleague Eric would do most of the stuff alone. What a sweetheart, right?

It felt a bit bad taking advantage of him. You knew he had a big crush on you, he wasn’t exactly hiding it. Relaxing backstage appealed more to you. Therefore it was totally fine with your conscience. This job was a pain in the ass and you already started applying for new jobs. You just had to hang on for a few more weeks. Hoping you could quit soon and work in a non toxic environment.

The first half of the concert remained uneventful. Fortunately, because your room was in the backstage area, you even talked to Lady Raven for a bit on her break. She was so nice and friendly. On and off stage, her whole personality was the same. Which you found truly great, a person like that was hard to find nowadays. The thinker for example seemed like a total dick from what you saw. Lady Raven and you also had some similar interests, it was so easy to talk to her.After asking about it, she told you that they hadn’t found the Butcher yet. She even told you a few more details on how the police got the information of him being there. Before she left you wished her good luck with the rest of her show and went back to work for a bit. 

Later on during the second half of the show, you stepped near the stage. The atmosphere felt incredible. The lights, the performance on stage and the fans screaming and singing the songs of Lady Raven. How you wished to be standing in the crowd just vibing and dancing to the music instead of working. If it weren’t for all the extra police and security in the arena, it would be a normal concert. 

Slowly you started making your way backstage as you saw people approaching from the audience room. Honestly you weren’t keen on talking to many people. Lady Raven started talking and announcing her dreamer girl, Riley. That must be why the people came in from the audience. At the end of the stage you turned around again. On your former spot stood a man. He was tall, with a nice backside, no doubt the father of the dreamer girl, looking at the stage.  Though he seemed to take a quick look around every now and then. Looking at him, he didn’t look like he was having much fun being here. He looked rather stiff. As you started walking back in his direction to get a better look, Eric called you. Sighing, you turned around. As you were making your way backstage, you felt like someone was watching you. 

“Hey, somewhere outside, a monitor has a bluescreen. I'll quickly go fix it. The show is nearly over. After that, we can start with cleaning things up.” Eric told you, as you walked down the stairs towards him.

“Okay, do you need my help?” You asked him, pushing a blonde strand of hair behind your ear, batting your eyes at him, hoping he would say no. 

“No of course not! I can do it alone. The problem is not that hard.” he answered, trying to show off.

You smiled. “Okay great! Then, see you later.” 

You walked past him into the backstage area. It wasn't that you disliked him, he was nice for a work colleague. However, nothing more. For one you had not much in common besides work, and he was a pushover. You could not imagine being with a man who had no opinion and just waited for you say anything until he stated his opinion. 

‘Like have an opinion, Boy?’ Rolling your eyes at the mere thought of his personality, you grabbed yourself a drink and went back to your little break room.

There you waited for the concert to finish, which you knew shouldn’t take too long now. When you heard the last song finished you decided to grab your purse and go into the hallway. Considering it was too good of an opportunity to pass by. When would you ever see celebrities up so close again? Maybe you could ask Lady Raven for a selfie? Or an autograph? You weren’t the biggest fan, but there was a possibility you could sell that autograph later on.

Uncertain where to go, you stood in the hallway. Dancers ran past you. Nobody seemed to take much notice of you. Coming from the left, you saw the thinker walking towards you, and kind of flirting with someone behind him. ‘Spicy.’ A light chuckle escaped you. Curiosity filled your brain and you decided to head in the direction he came from.

In the middle of the hallway, where several corridors met, stood Riley, the dreamer girl and her dad. If you remembered her name correctly that is. You stopped walking and observed them quietly from a little further away. 

‘Did the Thinker flirt with him?’ Now that you got a better view of him, you found that theory pretty reasonable. It felt almost unfair how attractive he looked. 

‘Was he married? Presumably.’ Not that you would consider making a move, besides his daughter was standing right next to him. That would be so awkward. Also remembering, the last time you let someone in, things unraveled in ways that left you a bit guarded. Despite your people skills, your mom and you apparently both had a thing for cheaters. After a year of being single, you told yourself it was for the best. Except for your job, life was good– At least that's what you tried to tell yourself.

Nevertheless you would never have considered being attracted to older men. He was at least 10 years older than you, maybe more. You were 25, and he could easily be in his 30s or even early 40s. All of a sudden the profiler’s description came back into your head: tall, strong, dark hair... 

Even though you've never been overly spiritual, you did believe in a sixth sense. The longer you thought about it, him standing in that hallway backstage. The way he subtly kept looking around for a second. Nobody noticed. ‘Wait… Did he notice you watching them?’ 

Pulling out your phone, you started swiping and typing randomly. Trying to look busy. Your thoughts were racing. He matched the description perfectly, and here he was, casually joking with his daughter like he didn’t have a care in the world. Despite his friendly smile and demeanor, there was something unsettling about him—a bit too friendly, almost fake? 

After looking at him a bit more, it just clicked into place. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that that may be him, the Butcher. Until now they hadn't found him, not that you knew of. So they were still searching for him. People backstage were rarely searched, except when they wanted to leave the arena.

‘God, you should think rationally. Could that really be him? Still he seemed normal…’

Except the look in his eyes. That look gave you unpleasant goosebumps. You grew anxious, you knew where the camera room was. Police officers were definitely going to be there and maybe the profiler was there. Then you could ask her if the man had been checked by security or talk to her about your uneasy feeling. 

Unfortunately you would have to pass him to get to the camera office. If he hadn't noticed you before, he certainly would then. Could you keep your cool? It didn’t matter. You knew you would overthink it in the evening, you had to do it. Your heart was starting to pound audibly in your chest. 

‘Deep breaths–

Breathe in, breathe out. 

Close your eyes, take a deep breath and go. Don't panic.’ Grabbing your phone tightly in your hand, you started walking. 

As you approached them, Lady Raven emerged from her dressing room and started talking to Riley. She was so happy, grinning from ear to ear. As they chatted happily, the dad leaned forward and whispered something to Lady Raven that you couldn't make out. 

As soon as you heard her tell his daughter that they would talk shortly, alarm bells were going off in your head. Your brain stopped working, and your legs and mouth moved on their own. You felt a certain hero complex activating within you. ‘What if he was the Butcher? There was a possibility’

You felt uncomfortable leaving her alone with him. Something felt off. Before they could leave, you sprinted the last few meters towards them. Trying to cry on arrival. 

“Lady Raven, hay… I eh.. I.. I don't... Could I.. could I talk to you for a second? Please, I don't know what to do.. I–” you sniffled. You tried your best to cry. ‘Come one, you could lie better than that’, you thought angrily at yourself. ‘Who would believe you like this?�� This wasn’t going to be the first lie you ever told. You even lied on your last résumé. 

She immediately turned around her face full of concern and worry. For a second you thought you saw his jaw tensing and left eye twitch. ‘Did you imagine it? ‘

“Oh no. Hey, what's going on? You’re Y/N, right? We met earlier.” You nodded your head, keeping the hand over your lower face, while trying to remain in tears. For once, you were glad that you chose to wear your hair open today. Your long blond locks shielded your face even more from the prying eyes around you. 

“What's going on? Are you alright? Did something happen?” She asked more and more questions, putting her hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you.

“There was an accident, I...“ You just kept mumbling incomprehensible nonsense. Still shaking, sobbing, trying not to look up. You didn't even know what to do, what to say. 

“Hay, ehm… I’m so sorry. Could you give us a second? I will be right back. It won’t take long.." she said, apologizing to the two of them. 

“Of course, no problem. This seems serious! Take your time.”, said the man, his voice laced with concern.

‘Why did he sound so genuine, like he is truly concerned? Maybe I judged him too fast?‘

Gently Lady Raven took one of your hands and started to lead you away. It didn’t matter anyway, there was no going back. Now you need to play your outburst to the end and come up with a plausible story. While she brought you into her dressing room, it felt as if someone was staring holes into your back. 

After the door closed, you immediately felt more at ease. Bit by bit you tried to calm yourself. At least that was what it seemed on the outside. You don’t remember much of what you told her, some kind of sob story. The first idea that came into your mind. About your dad having a car accident. The whole car crashed... With your car being parked further away from the arena and you were so afraid your dad could die. That you at worst wouldn't make it to the hospital in time with all the police controls going on in and outside the arena. 

You cried, trying to think your story would be about your mom and not your dad. Which did the trick and made you sad. Being the kind person she is, Lady Raven suggested that you could drive with her in her limo, so you didn't have to go through the queues or security, and she would take you to the hospital or your car. You thanked her over and over again, as you wiped your tears away. 

How high was the possibility that the dad would like to briefly speak to Lady Raven again, when you went in the hallway again? Then everything would have been in vain. However you could’t pressure her. Something came over you, so you suggested that perhaps the other two could join them. Maybe they could also drive in the car? You tried explaining your suggestion somewhat rationally. That way she can still talk with the dad,

you would feel extremely bad if you kept her from talking to her fans. You didn’t want to cause any more trouble. 

Surprisingly, that seemed to work? No further persuasion was necessary. Which left you very surprised and perplexed. Was she truly such a kind person? Who was so trusting? Especially with everything that was going on here today. ‘Did she have such a shielded and good life, that she blindly believed you?’ You wondered.

‘Unimaginable…that could not be the case. You didn’t believe there were any truly good people left in this world.’

After another minute of collecting yourself, you went after Lady Raven. She had already gone ahead and had already told them the short version of what was going on, when you arrived. Asking them if they wanted to come too, so she and the dad could have their talk. She was way too kind and somewhat naive to even suspect you’d be lying. You almost felt ashamed of yourself, even stupid. What were you even doing?

The daughter gasped and tried not to jump up and down in joy, the way she gripped her dad's arm. She seemed to be torn between worrying about you and happiness. By being asked to drive with Lady Raven, her seemingly favorite artist in the world. She was honored and extremely happy for a few seconds, then she stopped and looked at you sympathetically. 

“I’m so sorry about the thing with your dad...” Nodding weakly at her, trying to keep your act up, you gave her a half smile. Unknowingly to you, you had started twisting the ring on your middle finger. A Tic. Something you always did when you're stressed out or nervous. 

The ring was nothing special. A plain black ring with some Greek numbers on it. A gift from your mom; from the only holiday you ever had taken outside the USA and since you were eighteen, there was hardly a day you didn’t wear it. 

“Why don’t we lead the way? That way, we can talk.” said Lady Raven and gestured to the man. 

“Yes of course... I mean, the circumstances are not the best, but thank you for considering Riley and me. We appreciate it.” He replied, looking concerned but with something unreadable in his eyes that made you want to look anywhere but at him. 

“It is no problem at all. Actually it was Y/N here suggesting it. She would have felt bad if we hadn't been able to have our conversation because of her.”

He raised a brow at you. “That is so thoughtful and kind of you to still think of others. Something really rare these days”

As he walked past you, he briefly touched your shoulder, making you nearly jump out of your skin. “And I’m really sorry about your dad. I hope he pulls through. Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help” he smiled kindly at you.. 

“Yes, I hope so too. Thank you…” You trailed off, realizing you didn’t know his name. 

“Oh I didn’t even introduce myself. I'm Cooper, just call me Cooper.” holding out his hand.

“Well, thank you Cooper. Also, for your offer, maybe I will come back to that." you shook his hand. He had a firm, but not to strong grip. 'so he was married'

"Let’s get going, please.” Somewhere in between Cooper coming close to you, you almost forgot that you had a mission to get to the hospital fast. Daddy dearest was waiting.

He nodded and as he passed you, walking ahead, you suddenly realized just how big that man was. You hadn't even noticed it before. However, standing right next to him you realized it. He was at least 6′2″, not overly muscular, but also not skinny either. Lady Raven seemed tiny next to him, and you weren’t tall yourself—maybe around 5′5″ on a good day. 

Still, something about his vibe felt off. He seemed caring, yet on the other hand, almost relieved—or amused? 

Riley and you walked a bit behind the two to the cat, nobody had to go through any controls. Riley was such a sweet girl, asking you questions or talking about the concert to ‘take your mind off of your situation’. She was so nice. You kind of wish that you had a little sister like her, but no, you only had a half brother. The only reason he ever contacted you was for money from our grandparents' inheritance.

It was only when you reached the end of the corridor, you noticed Cooper looking over his shoulder. One corner of his mouth pulled upwards and his expression changed. Something sinister in his eyes for a split second. So fast that you were doubting yourself again.

Near the limousine, you felt your phone vibrating, probably Eric wanting to ask where you were. You had no time for that now. Shaking your head, you declined the call and started to write to him, saying that an emergency had come up and you would be back later. You didn’t notice that you arrived at the car until someone cleared their throat in front of you.  

Fuck, you almost ran directly into Cooper. Lady Raven and Riley had already gone inside. He looked at me expectantly, a small smile at his lips. You quickly locked your phone and held it up. “Sorry, my… Sister. She gave me the latest updates on our dad.." you explained, the lies just kept rolling off your tongue, and you just hoped they sounded believable. With that you went straight to the car, without waiting for a response. 

Maybe you should have started an acting career… 

You quickly sat down in the car, with Cooper following shortly after you. Keeping your phone in your hand to secretly keep twisting your ring behind it.

This guy was making you so nervous, not only him but also the lies. You even thought you heard a small deep chuckle from behind you, maybe it was just your nerves? The car started moving. You wondered what they talked about… What did he want to talk about to her? 

Lady Raven's voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Y/N, where should I let you out? You remember where you parked your car? Or should we drive directly to the hospital?” 

Car yeah… you almost laughed. You knew exactly where your car was, a few miles away at the mechanic, because your lights weren’t working. Why hadn’t you thought of that. 

“Eh no, no! Just let me know where my car is. It’s a few blocks away. At this free parking space. There’s my car; let me look up the street real quick…” That wasn't a complete lie. Normally, you would park your car there, because it was just cheaper than parking near or in the stadium. Now just your bike was parked there, well, if nobody had stolen it.

You started to unlock your phone to look up the address. A large hand grabbed your hand with your phone to stop you. Before you could even protest or say something, Cooper started talking in his chipper, happy voice. 

“Really? What a coincidence! I think that should be the same parking lot where Riley and I parked my car earlier. I do know the address, it’s just around the corner.  You don't have to look it up.” Lady Raven pressed a button and Cooper told the chauffeur where to go. The address did sound somewhat familiar. You pulled your phone and hand out of his grip. There wasn't much resistance and he put his hands back into his lap. 

You looked back at Riley and Lady Raven, they were deeply engaged in a conversation with each other. Noticing nothing around the. The phone in your hand started ringing again, and you quickly looked at the screen. This time, it was your boss; should you just accept the call? You did not get much time to think about it. 

“Have you heard anything yet?”, came Riley’s question towards you. 

You started twisting your ring again. 

“Ah yes, yes… My brother texted me..” your breath caught in your throat. Realizing you messed up. ‘Didn’t you just say to Cooper that it was your sister? Maybe he didn't notice. Good thing you hadn’t pursued your acting career…‘

“...and the doctor said it doesn’t look critical. Our dad seems stable at the moment… but he needs to be operated on quickly.. I'm sure I will get more information as soon as…” 

All of a sudden the whole car jolted to a stop, followed by wild car honking. You tried to find your footing, unintentionally gripping onto Cooper's thigh. Right before you could fall off your seat a hand pressed against your shoulder and pushed you back into the seat. You dug your nails even more into his thigh. Riley's bags tipped forward and many of the contents scattered a little on the floor. “Sorry, Lady Raven. The car in front of us braked abruptly." The driver apologized. 

“Everyone alright?” Cooper asked, concern dripping in his voice. 

“All good” said Riley and Lady Raven nodded. 

“Yes, I think so..” you  breathed. He came closer pushing a loose strand behind your ear. A blush crept on your face. After another second, you noticed your hand was still on his thigh, and you blushed even more. 

“Oh I’m sorry!” You exclaimed in a panic. He smiled kindly. 

“No problem. I’m glad nobody got hurt.” Then he got up from his seat to help Riley pick her things back up and put them back into the bags. 

Your phone began to ring again. ‘It’s now or never; it would only get worse.’

With a sigh, you picked up the phone and immediately held the phone as far away as possible from your ear. A loud voice screaming through the speaker. Seemed like your boss just started screaming at you at the top of his lungs. 

You mouthed a quick ‘Sorry’ to the others in front of you. He kept on screaming, ranting about how you were not at work and how he always knew you were a lazy piece of shit. He should have fired me months ago… The list goes on.

As Cooper sat back down. You tried to move your body back in the direction of your phone. Seeing as you didn't want to be too close to Cooper. He didn't seem to mind and put a calming hand on your knee this time. Your mind seemed to go fuzzy when you got near him.

Overall this was not your day, your nerves were all over the place. Your feelings felt like they were on a rollercoaster. You still weren't sure if your gut feeling was right… but you also didn't want to find out. All the lies you told today and now your boss is screaming at you? It was just too much. Clenching your fist and putting the phone near your ear again. 

“I quit.” were the only words you said, dry of any emotion. 

“What did you say?” came the angry reply. 

“I quit” Hot tears were forming in your eyes, Cooper gently started to caress your knee. “i’m so fucking done. You don't know what I am going through right now! Someone could die, and you don't even let me explain myself. So go to hell, and I fucking quit.” Enraged, you ended the call and immediately blocked his number. 

You put your head in your hands and sigh. 

“I'm sorry… Sorry, you had to hear that. Everything goes wrong…” And with that, a sob escapes you. 

‘Nobody can see my face, right? So maybe act even more sad? ‘

This whole day was a curse, why were you even here? Because you felt bad vibes from the dilf next to you? You just wanted to laugh over the whole situation. 

‘You were fucking stupid and now jobless. Great work. Just because you wanted to play the hero, because of a stupid gut feeling. He was a normal dad. Not the Butcher. ‘ 

“Don't think like that. You said it yourself; your dad is stable, so that's a good thing. Maybe I can help you get a new job!” Lady Raven is really trying to cheer you up. 

Someone rubbed your back gently, and there was only one person who could do that. You tried your hardest to ignore his comforting touch. 

“Hay Y/N, I know you just met us, and you don't know me. But I bet a girl like you will easily find a new job. You seem like a good person. If you tell me in which field you work, I'm sure I could help. See if someone I know is hiring. How does that sound?” Cooper really tried to comfort you. He was so sympathetic and strangely charming. 

A small laugh escapes you. "Yes, I probably will..” You wipe away your angry tears’. 

“I mean… I already sent out job applications. I wanted to leave anyway, maybe I will get a job here in Philly or maybe where my mom lives. She lives more in the suburbs, like an hour away I think…” you paused. 

‘Why did you suddenly decide to tell him so much about yourself? Didn't you want to keep a low profile and not give too much real information?‘

This guy certainly knew how to make people talk. About everything, even things they may not want to share and then do without even realizing it. ‘Fuck’

“See! Now you're even smiling again. You just need to see the positive things.” With that, he squeezed your shoulder lightly and withdrew his hand from your back. Making you almost miss the comfort and warmth they had brought you. 

Stop crushing on the hot dad next to you! You tried to remind yourself and also remember all the things you thought were off with him.

“We're here,” the chauffeur announced. Great, finally. This car ride felt like an eternity. 

Cooper and Riley got out of the car first, and they said their goodbyes. Riley, of course, needed one last hug, and Cooper simply thanked her again for what she did for Riley. Before you got out of the car, Lady Raven pulled you in for a hug. 

“Please keep me updated on how things are at the hospital and if you need something. Just text me.” She pulled out her phone and pulled up Instagram. 

“Just search for your username, and I'll add you. That way, we can keep in touch.” 

You nodded and put in your name, and handed the phone back to her. 

“Thank you.. so much. Again. I'm so sorry for any inconvenience I caused. I won't forget this. Thank you! Next time, I’ll be in the front row singing your songs.” 

She laughed at that and nodded. While stepping outside the car, you crossed both fingers that the other two were gone.

Unfortunately, Cooper and his daughter waited for you. You had thought that by staying longer in the car, they would be gone already. No lucky day for you

You scanned the parking lot, and of course, your bike was stolen. The universe was just being cruel now. 

“So let us walk you to your car!” Cooper was way too happy, waving the limousine of Lady Raven goodbye. “Sure..” You started walking towards the cars. 

You were clueless on how to get out of this situation. Abruptly stopping, you looked around. 

“I don't see my car..” you say while looking around again. You sigh extra loudly. 

“Fuck me..”

“Your car got towed?” Cooper 

“Maybe” a dry laugh escapes you. 

“Or maybe with everything going on and all the things that were going on at the concert, I… just forgot where I parked my car.” You ran your fingers through your hair. 

"Well, if you tell me which hospital you need to go to, I'm certain Riley and I can make a little detour on our way home. Right Riley?” Riley nodded. 

“Of course, I’d be happy if we could help you out” she said, hopeful.

Right… the hospital. You should get better at remembering your lies. You were torn between keeping your lie up or simply turning around and walking away. 

You didn’t know what to do. Cooper seemed a bit strange at times, but he could not be the Butcher, right? Still while looking at him you felt like something didn't add up. Sometimes… you didn’t know how to describe it… He felt too perfect, too caring or too sweet. Maybe that was just who he was? You were lost in thought.. The look in his eyes was making you feel a bit uneasy. 

All of a sudden, Cooper's hand was behind your back, and he slowly pushed you forward. “If you can't decide, I will decide for you. Going to the hospital should be the most important thing. So we'll drive you and then you can worry about your car later. Okay?” 

You nodded your head at his idea, simply because you didn't trust your words at the moment. His hand wandered up to your shoulder, where he kept a firm grip and pushed you in the direction of his car. 

Riley was already running in front of you. You winced under his touch, did he know his own strength? You wondered. He certainly didn't look that strong. He opened the car a few meters away so Riley could already put her bags in the trunk. 

A black van

You suddenly remembered what Eric told you about the profiler, she suspected the Butcher to drive a car like this? 

Your body tensed up, and you felt like the pressure on your shoulder increased, which was almost painful. Surely that was going to bruise . Cooper opened the back door for you like you were a child being escorted home. You tried to muster your best friendly face before you sat down inside. 

“Thank you... Have you had this car for a long time?” You asked before you could stop yourself. Cooper raised an eyebrow, clearly pondering the question before answering. 

“Yes, I have had it for quite a few years now. Why are you asking?” Should you just tell him? 

It was just the trip to the hospital.. then you would never have to see them again. You could not fuck up even more than you already had, and until now, it was just an uneasy gut feeling. Also, you were trying to move back to your mom, who was at least an hour away. 

“No real reason.. Just that profiler from the concert. She talked so much, about everything and also about cars... especially mentioning a car like this, which could potentially be the car of a-… killer.” 

He only stared at you. 

‘Did you say something wrong? Maybe you’re the weird one now.’ Nervously rubbing your neck, you tried to lighten the mood with a laugh. 

Thankfully, Riley was just on her way to the passenger seat. She didn't hear her, no need to scare her. You didn’t think she knew about what was going on behind the scenes of the concert. 

“So maybe you should switch it up? But maybe she was just talking nonsense..” you tried to diffuse the situation, massaging your sore shoulder. 

Cooper smiled and laughed softly. "Well, thanks for the tip. I thought about getting a new car. Maybe I should finally get one. More family friendly, any ‘smart’ suggestions perhaps?” - 

“Hmm..maybe just something smaller, maybe in white, silver, or another color? Definitiv not black..” you smile. 

“Great. I will keep that in mind when I buy a new car.” he smiled back at you and closed the door, and got in the driver's seat. He seemed like he wanted to ask more questions, tapping his finger on the steering wheel. 

Quickly, you got your phone out and searched for a hospital near you. You found one which was 15 minutes away. When Cooper started the car you leaned forward, so much that your head nearly reached his shoulder and you could smell his aftershave. ‘He even smelled good.’ You showed him your phone. 

“Here, that's the hospital where I need to go.” He slightly turned around to get a better look at the screen. 

“Can I?” He gestured to the phone. “Just to get a better look.” 

You gulped, a nervous feeling growing in your stomach. “Yeah sure..” 

He didn’t even wait for your reply and grabbed the phone. 

“You got some kind of privacy screen on here?” he asked with a raised brow. 

Oh yeah, how could you forget, and here you thought he wanted to take your phone from you. When he couldn’t even see the screen. 

“Yeah! Sorry, I totally forgot. My boss had cameras everywhere in the building, I got a bit paranoid, so I bought one of those..” you laughed. 

“He doesn’t sound very nice. Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t have to work there anymore!” replied Riley. 

“Yeah.. maybe”

“You could just work at my school, our teacher for IT sucks..” 

Cooper glanced at her disapprovingly, slowly shaking his head.  “Riley…”- 

"Sorry, dad, it's the truth. He lives in the past. No one uses Windows XP anymore." Riley grumbled. 

Cooper started the car, and Lady Raven's music was playing loudly over the speakers before he turned the volume down. After a few minutes of driving and Riley vibing to the music, Cooper cleared his throat. 

"Here, you can have your phone back. Oh and I took the liberty of saving my number on your phone. That way, if you ever need anything or some help finding your car later, you can just give me a quick call.” 

What the fuck. He did what now?

He smiled at you through the rearview mirror, his eyes watching you closely. Carefully, you grabbed your phone out of his hands. 

“That's so… thoughtful. Thank you” You tried to put a smile on your face. 

"So, Riley, how did you like the concert?” You tried changing the topic. Oh boy, that worked. Riley started rambling about everything, including how cool it was to be on stage with Lady Raven. Unconsciously, you found yourself smiling a real smile, she was just so cute. Your eyes flickered to the rearview mirror every so often, and as soon as you met Cooper's eyes, you looked back at Riley. Let’s not get lost because of his good looks. You still felt uneasy.  

You tried telling yourself in your head. Somehow, you felt like a prey being watched by his predator. Once in a while you felt like his expression would flicker for a split second, his eyes becoming way darker, but it was gone so soon. You weren’t even sure if you saw it correctly or if it was your imagination. Even though the feeling was only there for a split second, He looked so friendly, encouraging Riley to talk more. 

Finally, you could make out the hospital in the distance. About time, you thought. 

“Hey Y/N?” Riley asked. 

“Yes?”- 

“Maybe when your dad is better again, you can visit us? I feel so bad for you. Today should have been a great day. _You seem really cool… I mean, your dad and family can come too..Right dad?” Cooper smiled and nodded. 

“Great, Like a family dinner, my mom is a great cook.” So he was married. “I just would like to do something nice for you.” Oh god, the world didn’t deserve her kindness. 

“Of course, you don't have to feel compelled to do so. Think about it, you don’t have to decide now..” Cooper interjected. 

“The two of you are too kind. I can't,” more like won't, “give you an answer right now, but I promise to think about it. Okay?” You fake-gushed at the two, your face hurting from keeping the smile on your face. 

Both Cooper and Riley seemed satisfied with the answer. You felt like you were in the wrong movie, was there a hidden camera somewhere? You arrived within the next minute. Cooper parked his car near the emergency exit. One moment away from freedom, away from this lie. 

“I can’t really thank you enough. Thanks for driving me here. I hope you had a great day. Have a safe drive home.” You tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “Oh, child safety must be on. I’m sorry, I forgot.” apologized to Copper and exited the van to open your door. You didn’t believe him, it just matched too well. 

“I hope you get good news inside. Dad acted really strange today, but I’m happy everything is normal again.” she smiled, before you could answer, and your door opened. 

Daddy is acting strange today. You don’t say…  

“Well, bye, Riley.” You waved at her and got out and barely got your hand out of the doof before Cooper shut it close. 

“I’m so glad we could help you.” he said with that charming voice of his. He started to walk with you towards the building. “With all the extra police force, because of the Butcher, it could have taken you at least an hour to get here.”

“That's true. Well maybe next time he shouldn't let his recipes laying around in his hideouts. What does he even want at a pop concert?” you snorted. 

“Did he now?” Cooper asked intrigued.

“At least that's what I overheard from a few higher up people today.”, no way you were saying that it was Lady Raven who told you.

“Seems like he needs to be cleaner and more careful.”

“If not, they might just catch him next time,” you joked.

“I don't think that will happen, sweetheart.” His mouth twitched in amusement.

That was a weird response. He must have seen the frown on your face, as he quickly started to explain himself.

“I mean if they didn't catch him today, while they knew he was going to be there. I think the chances of the police finding him again are relatively close to zero.” His reply sounded reasonable. 

“Well yes, but he fucked up once. Maybe he is getting sloppy with time. Nobody knows.” 

His jaw clenched. “You think so? Maybe you're misinterpreting the situation. I would imagine someone like him to be very calculated.  Otherwise the police would have found him already, if he was being sloppy.”

“True…” You shrugged your shoulders. Maybe you were wrong, but why did he sound somewhat angry at your statement?

He was honestly acting strange now. 

“Well I think this is where I leave you.” Cooper announced after a few seconds of silence. His behavior over the last meters made you feel unsettled again. He seemed strange. ‘Why was he like that?’ 

“Okay…”, should you with your gut feeling, you wondered? Fuck it, it was just a guess, a wild guess. You always knew your big mouth would get you into trouble someday. Maybe he was just a normal dad and you were overthinking the situation. If that was the case, he wouldn’t think anything of it.

“By the way B-...Cooper” you began, and Cooper turned around in a second, looking at you expectantly, one of his brows raised. His face was unreadable. “You're welcome.. You know that? For getting to drive with Lady Raven"—for  getting out of there without the security controls - was what you wanted to say. Even if he were the Butcher his facial expressions and body language didn't betray him. He smiled and stepped back toward you. Every bone in your body wanted to run. ‘Fuck, did this creep you out.’ You felt like you were pushing your luck today 

“Yes.. of course. I am very grateful for that…” Before he could say anymore, Riley pulled down the window. 

“Dad! Let's go home! Y/N needs to go to the hospital! And I want to tell mom all about the concert!” 

“She's right. I don't want to keep you from your father any longer. I bet your sister is waiting for you. Better go inside.” ‘He knew, he knew you lied when you fucked up with the sister and brother thing.’ Panic started to set in, you swallowed hard, your throat dry.

He came even closer and engulfed you in a tight hug. You stood there, frozen in place. He leaned his head down to your ear, his hands holding you even tighter. One of them slowly wandered to your lower back while he talked.

“Thank you, sweetheart. You sure made it easier. I’m sure Spencer will be soo grateful. I’ll let you know…” a dark chuckle escaped him.

“It's a small world. I'm sure we will see each other again.” His deep voice whispered in your ear, which sent shivers down your spine. You felt trapped. Like a tiny mouse next to him, holding your breath unintentionally. He patted you on the back. Smiling, he stepped away. 

‘Breathe– mask your emotions. Get a grip.’ Many different thoughts running through your head.

Tilting your head to your side you looked at him. Moreover you were confused. Even a tiny bit scared.

‘Please don’t let him notice. Who was Spencer? Did you know Spencer?’

Furrowing your brows you asked “Spencer?” your voice slightly quivering.

He grinned even more— it looked unnerving. It was replaced by a much friendlier smile after another second. “Don’t worry about it.” 

‘Were you imagining things? Now you knew why people said “don't play with fire.” Why had you said anything at all...’

His voice became louder, having that charming undertone again “and make sure to call sweetheart. Riley would be very happy if you came over.” Winking at you he turned around and walked back to his car. 

You felt like your chest was about to explode.

“Yes! Once your dad's out of the hospital and things settle down, Make sure to call my dad. Then we can have a fun dinner.” giggling Riley's voice went even higher. She was practically shifting in her seat, unable to sit still. 

‘Fun dinner? Yeah.. sureeee kid..’

You mustered your best smile and gave her a thumbs up. 

“I will kiddo. See you around.” trying to steady your voice. You needed to get away fast. turned around and walked towards the hospital, near the end you were almost running. 

Once inside, you had the feeling that it was getting harder and harder to breathe. As if you weren't getting enough air. Your breathing became more and more rapid. Your vision was blurred. 

‘Was this hyperventilation? What was going on? Was he really the Butcher? Were you right? Would you die next? Maybe he would keep you alive because you unintentionally helped him?’

Anxiety welled up inside you. You barely noticed the loud voices around you. 

‘Did you hear someone calling for help?’

You had the feeling that the world was spinning around you. ‘Were you still walking?’ It felt like your legs were made out of jelly.

Someone was talking to you, holding you by the shoulders. Shaking you. Waving something in front of your face. However, you couldn’t make out the words. You couldn't recognise the face in front of you. Everything sounded dull, like it was far far away. The world became increasingly blurred before your eyes, spinning more and more– 

until you finally gave in and everything went dark. 

[friend-gif]

Guys I just watched trap on prime video and his last name isn't Cooper Adams it's Cooper Abbott.. The captions said Cooper Abott.... God damnit we all gotta go back 😞😞

[justsomerandomfanfic]

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[morbidlittlebunny]

Yesss, Daddy. 😍❤️

I think about this every day.

being the butcher's basement baby

"I'm in control. Of everything. When you eat, when you drink, when you breathe air, when you get fucked. All of it."

"If you behave, you'll be rewarded, but fail to do anything I say and there'll be consequences. Do you understand?"

[hereforthehitsbaby]

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(🌶️) - SMUT - (💀) - Dark!Fic - (😡) - Angst - (🤗) - Fluff

Cooper Adams/Abbott:

Good to be Back (18+) (🌶️)

Tag, You're It (18+) (🌶️)

Watch Me (18+) (🌶️)

Darkness, Imprisoning Me (💀)

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[littleoddwriter]

Trapped | Cooper Abbott x GenderNeutral!Reader | Dark Fic

Hi there! I'm incredibly down bad for him, to nobody's surprise, so here's the first fic I wrote for him. More to come! This fic isn't exactly romantic or even really sexual, albeit with some hints to it; but I used it to get a feel for writing him, first and foremost. And also because I saw somebody wanting a fic where Reader is in Lady Raven's position at the end of the movie, and I wanted that as well, so, here. It's not exactly what was imagined when demanding that, I know, but it's something! (also, excuse the uninspired title, please, it's very tongue-in-cheek, I know, dshjkfgsdkjs) summary; You're captured by the Butcher as his last chance of entertainment - and revenge - before his inevitable arrest or death. There, you learn a lot about him, and also yourself. notes/warnings; GenderNeutral!Reader; Reader is in Lady Raven's position (Reader is a pop star, etc.); slight spoilers for the movie (but I expect you to have seen that if you're reading this anyway); Character Study; Implied/Referenced (Attempted) Murders; Kidnapping; Angst; Implied/Referenced Sexual Attraction; Implied/Referenced Past Child Abuse; Mostly Open End; Dark Fic. (once again, this is not a full on romantic or sexual fic about Cooper and Reader, but more of an exploration of the character, his dynamic with Reader, and Reader's own conflicting thoughts and feelings about the situation and Cooper. there are hints of romance and sexual attraction, though. this is a dark fic and it has a mostly open ending; but it does imply a bad ending if we're realistic. if you're like me, you could also find a way to imagine a better ending to it. that's why I left it somewhat ambiguous.)

The car’s passenger door was slammed shut on you, making you jump with the force behind it. A shaky breath left your trembling lips as you waited for Cooper to settle in the driver’s seat of his wife’s car. Soon to be ex-wife, you figured. If not a widow. 

Your mind was still reeling with the night’s events. One moment, you’d been giving your best for the concert, like you always did, and the next moment, you were stuck with a wanted serial killer because you decided to play hero. Desperately, you hoped it would all be worth it, in the end. Or else this might have been the stupidest decision you’ve ever made. You should have just alerted the FBI when you got the hunch that something was up with the man, you berated yourself internally. 

“Put these around your wrists,” the Butcher told you gruffly, holding up a pair of zip ties to you. 

Stunned, you just looked at him for a long moment, your mind trying to catch up with what he was asking of you. Everything has been happening too fast. Too much, all at once. And worst of all, you were terrified. Yet at the same time, you felt for him. He was a desperate man. Trapped. Cornered. In a way, you were his last resort now. How ironic.

Cooper gave you a stern look, his dishevelled hair covering parts of the upper half of his face, but the fierce glint of desperation and murder in his eyes shone through the brunette strands. 

“Put. These. Around. Your. Wrists,” he commanded again through clenched teeth, shoving the zip ties into your chest, as your hands automatically flew up to catch them.

Shakily, you nodded and put your hands through the loop. Once the zip ties were around your wrists, the Butcher pulled them tight, the thin hard plastic cutting into your skin, rubbing it raw with every small movement. 

As soon as he was certain that your hands were tied, Cooper started the car’s engine and quickly exited the garage and driveway. In the distance, you could hear police sirens on their way to the house you had just left behind. Too late. 

“If only you hadn’t decided to play hero,” Cooper mused with a strained, almost manic, smile on his lips, “None of this had to have happened, you know? I would have let you go.”

“And let you kill more innocent people? I couldn’t bear the guilt, knowing I could have prevented it,” you responded quietly.

“As if you actually care about random people’s lives more than your own. You’re just as fake as they all are. Pretending that you’ve got it all figured out, that you’re fulfilled.” He sounded bitter, angry, spitting those last words in your direction, like your existence has personally offended him. His grip around the steering wheel tightened, turning his knuckles white. 

Not wanting to anger him any further, you decided to stay quiet; even though you had a million things on your mind that you would have liked to retort. 

The FBI had briefed you on what kind of man they figured him to be. A psychological profile, they called it. You had heard about those on TV before, but it always seemed silly to you. How could they possibly know what was going on inside a person’s mind without having ever met them before? With all conclusions based on evidence from crime scenes instead? It didn’t make sense to you.

Until now, that was. Cooper seemed like the exact man the FBI had described to you. Perfect on the outside, an overachieving family man, unassuming, kind, always happy and ready to lend a hand. And beneath all of that, on the inside, there was a hurt child, craving their parents’ love and approval, but never getting it. Now, he let that anger that had manifested out on people he deemed to have had it all, to have what he was missing all his life. 

Deep down, you felt bad for him. If his parents had been different, perhaps there would be one less killer on the loose. Or perhaps, he would have ended up this way, no matter the circumstances of his upbringing. Who was to say that killers like him were only a product of abuse? 

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled into another driveway, getting out of the car. His footsteps were quick and heavy, and your heart was sinking in response to those sounds. 

Ripping the passenger door open, he leaned down to look at you, grabbed your bound wrists and jerked your body in his direction, forcing you out of your seat. Stumbling out of the car, you almost bumped into him, your head barely reaching his shoulder. He really was massive. You stood no chance against him, you thought, feeling defeated. This was it, then. 

Cooper bent over and quickly picked up the bag he had taken with him from the garage, before slamming the door shut once more. And just like he had done before, the Butcher put his fingers on your shoulder, verbally giving you directions for where he wanted you to go, while keeping a dominating presence behind you, not allowing you a real chance to escape.

Eventually, you found yourself in a basement, not unlike the one Spencer, who was hopefully safe now, had been stuck in before. 

The Butcher pushed you down to sit on the cold hard chair in the middle of the room, a support beam right behind it. He made quick work of putting the ice-cold steel chains and cuffs around your wrists and ankles, snapping off the zip ties at last. 

Looking up at him from where you were seated, the sinking feeling of hopelessness creeped in. There was no way you were getting out of this alive. 

Cooper retrieved a cleaver from his bag and pulled out another chair, placing it across from you and sitting down on it, playing with the knife in his hands. He looked at you for a long moment, not saying anything, just breathing calmly, idly stroking the knife’s handle with his thumb of the hand that was holding it. With his other hand, he brushed the loose strands of hair away from his face.

Once again, he was smiling at you. A smile that never reached his eyes, which glinted with murderous intent and something else that you couldn’t quite place. His smile was too big, too sharp, to be genuine. It seemed manic and desperate. Strained. And at the same time, he looked to be in complete control over the situation. 

Cooper Abbott was a man of many facades, you came to realise. 

“I was gonna stop, you know?” he finally spoke up, the tense silence broken by his voice that was laced with too many emotions at once, giving away that he didn’t feel as in control as he seemed to be. 

You waited for him to continue, not daring to ask questions.

“It’s been a while since I last felt the urge. Until you, tonight. I don’t know if it was because of everything that happened, or because I could see right through you… but it was an almost pleasant surprise to feel the urge again.

“Spencer was gonna be my last. That was the plan. Go to the concert with Riley, kill Spencer from the comfort of my home, sneak out hours later, making up some kind of lie of having to work an extra shift because of an emergency, chop him up, dispose of his body and any evidence, return home, and pretend like nothing had happened,” Cooper explained his initial plan for tonight like he was talking about something completely normal, like a family vacation he was planning instead. It was eerie, but somewhat intriguing to you. 

“And then, with time, I would have cleaned out all the houses I had bought to keep my two lives safely apart. I could have been a regular husband, father, and firefighter in just a couple of weeks, maybe months. And no one would have been any wiser on what I had done for all those years that the Butcher was active. It was the perfect plan,” he finished with a frustrated sigh, brushing his hair away from his face again with more force than was necessary. You could hear the steady, but sharp, tapping of his fingers against the cleaver’s wooden handle.

There was a long, tense moment of silence.

You almost felt the urge to apologise for ruining his plans.

“Why did you decide to stop?” you asked, unable to contain your genuine curiosity any longer.

Strangely enough, Cooper’s smile softened, his face relaxed and his eyes lost some of the fierceness in them. “Because I thought that I had finally done enough. The urge had lessened over the years, like I said, I didn’t feel it for a while until tonight. I was just doing it out of routine at this point, I think. Believe it or not, it was fun. And I wasn’t ready to give that up for a while.”

“What changed?” 

“I did… My children changed me. Riley and Logan are everything to me. And I was trying my hardest to be the dad they deserved to have. The one that they needed. A loving, fun, and especially involved, dad. I didn’t want them to feel like I did growing up,” Cooper explained in a wistful tone, “It all started out as just another way to keep suspicions away from me. Starting a family with Rachel seemed like the perfect cover. Nobody would ever suspect that a true family man could be a messed up serial killer, right?”

Despite your current situation, you felt your heart flutter. You understood where he was coming from, and you wished things had gone differently for him. But most of all, you wished that he wasn’t what he was.

“I didn’t expect to actually enjoy fatherhood, or to love my kids the way I do,” he continued after a short pause, still in that oddly wistful tone, a harsh contrast to the entire situation and his true being, “It’s so strange… With everything that happened tonight, I’m just enraged. But I’m less angry about having been found out at all. I’m mostly angry because I’m never going to see my children again.”

This time, you couldn’t resist the urge, and so you whispered, “I’m sorry,” like it was somehow your fault, when in reality, it was his decision to murder people in the first place.

Letting out a long sigh that ended in a small, insincere chuckle, Cooper got up from his chair, meat cleaver in his hand, towering over you like this inescapable force that he was to you. 

With practised ease, he took his shirt off and threw it over the chair behind himself. You had no idea why he would do that. Easier clean-up, maybe? With regret, you realised that you didn’t hate the sight. He was an attractive man, there was no question about that. But to feel such attraction, despite your current predicament, was nothing short of confusing and embarrassing to you. 

“You don’t have to do this, Cooper,” you whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“I wish that was true, but… there’s no escape. Not anymore. I might as well have fun one last time,” he told you quietly with that eerie smile that did nothing to hide his intentions. It only emphasised them now. 

Feeling your heart rate accelerate, your stomach sank with the realisation that this would be it for you. 

It only took two steps for him to stand right in front of and above your seated, captured, cowering form. Before you could utter another plea, Cooper’s free hand wrapped around your throat, almost covering the entire thing with his large palm as his fingers gripped onto your jaw, moving your head further back as he bent down, leaning into you.

A small noise escaped your throat, sounding both distressed and almost aroused. You had no control over that, and it felt utterly humiliating to have made such a sound in response to his actions. 

The Butcher chuckled darkly, a sharp smile playing on his lips, and a glint of intrigue in his eyes. 

“I think I’m gonna enjoy this a lot more than expected…” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath tickling your sensitive skin. 

“Please don’t…” you tried again, weakly, your voice strained from the weight of his hand against your windpipe. 

As you struggled to breathe, and his hand only tightened around your neck, your vision started to blur both due to panic and the lack of oxygen. Darkly, in the back of your fuzzy mind, you thought that at least you’d go out with a handsome face as the last thing you'd see. 

Faintly, in the far distance, you heard police sirens. Or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you.

“If only you had saved yourself…” the Butcher whispered to you before he quickly, and with impressive force, snapped your head back against the support beam behind you, and your world went dark.

[bloodibambiidoll]

BITCH MY PUSSY IS PULLSSINNGGG OH MY GODDDD??!??!!!!?!!!??!!!!!!

UR JOKINGGG?????? Siri play that should be FUCKING MEEE!!!!! You just described my dream, actually, I’m in love with you, actually. You’re a goddamn genius.

I LITERALLY AM GONNA KMS!! IM NEEDNA FUCKING LOBOTOMY??!!!!!! You literally ate this up !!!!! I’ve gotta die!!!

I mean yeah, call me out harder??

This was a work of fucking art. Put this in the power point at my funeral of reasons why I kept living bc wttffff. You and Morgan have officially poisoned my mind I need him CARNALLY. Also i need to know every single thing about them IMMEDIATELY. I need backstory fr.

✰ 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐩 ‘𝐄𝐦 𝐎𝐮𝐭 ✰

Kinktober fic 1: Cooper Abbott ✰ Boot Worship + Blood Kink

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dom!cooper, boot licking, blood consumption (we’re pretending blood borne pathogens don’t exist in this universe ^.^), blood smearing, slapping, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, daddy kink, use of “sir”, oral sex (male receiving), boot humping, degradation, gloves, finger sucking, hair pulling, fem + afab reader, breath play, praise, slight orgasm control, cum on face/in hair, tracking device mentioned

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k

The force of the front door slamming practically shook the entire house, the rage in each of Cooper’s steps almost palpable. His gait was heavy, each step carrying the weight of a week’s worth of stress and anger, and you knew you were in for a night to remember.

“At my feet, now.” He commanded, pointing to the floor in front of him. You quickly did as you were told, dropping to your knees before him, eagerly awaiting further instruction. You looked up at him and the look of adoration in your doe eyes softened him the tiniest bit, the reassurance that, no matter what, he would always have his obedient captive to come home to acting as a small comfort through his anger.

He ran his gloved thumb over your cheek, the warmth of the worn leather and fresh blood from his latest kill radiating against your skin. You absentmindedly nuzzled into his palm, eyes fluttering shut in contentment for just a second. Before you knew it his palm made harsh contact with the side of your face, the sting reverberating through your jaw.

You winced, a weak mewl working its way up from your chest. When you opened your eyes, a depraved smile was spread cheek to cheek on Cooper’s face, that familiar sadistic look sparkling behind his blown pupils.

“You’re going to do me a favor, doll.” He took your chin in his grip, turning your cheek to admire the crimson shine of the slowly drying blood smeared across your skin. You were always so pretty like this, such a sweet thing tainted by the evidence of his cruel games.

“I’ll do anything for you, Daddy.” You looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky, guided the water to flow through every stream, willed the fates to align every event that led you to him. He had, of course, done exactly that. The day he saw you while perusing for his next victim he knew he had to have you, by whatever means necessary.

That was a year ago, the day he followed you to your car after your last shift ended and placed a chloroform soaked rag over your mouth, quickly subduing you and taking you home to keep in the basement of one of the vacant houses he held the keys to. You fought hard at first, spitting in his face and leaving scratch marks across his bicep the first time he came near you, but after enough punishment and eventually reward, your stockholm syndrome was in full swing.

You eventually graduated up from the basement, Cooper surprising you on your birthday with a tracking device that resembled an ankle monitor. He trusted your misguided devotion to him well enough to know you wouldn’t leave him if given free reign of the house, but he needed an insurance policy in case you suddenly had any epiphanies about a chance at freedom.

Little did he know, you’d never felt more free than you did with him looming over you like this, a vision of the god you’d been searching for all your life.

His hand tangled in your hair, creating a mess of the perfectly styled locks you’d spent hours perfecting just for him. He crouched down to your level, holding your gaze for a moment before forcing your head down to his feet, blood-slicked steel toe leather boots only an inch from your face.

“Clean, now. I want them spotless. Better see my damn reflection in them when you’re done.” He pulled his hand away from the back of your head, strands of your now bloodied hair clinging to his glove momentarily before he rose back to his full towering height. “Yes sir.” You squeaked out, swallowing hard.

Your tongue met the worn leather, hesitantly kitten licking the mix of blood and dirt off of them until you became accustomed to the earthy metallic taste. Your strokes became broader, covering as much surface area as possible to get the job done quickly, eager to see a pleased look on your captor’s face and get the taste of iron out of your mouth.

The more blood you swallowed the quicker a lump began to form in the back of your throat, intrusive thoughts about who this blood belonged to bouncing around in your mind. What was his name? How old was he? Did he have a family? Who is out there wondering where he is right now?

Tears welled in your waterline, slipping slowly down your cheeks to wet the newly cleaned boot, polished reflection shining back at you. You moved to the other foot, licking a wide stripe over the toe box before stealing a glance up to see the look on Cooper’s face. Your view was obscured by the growing tent in his jeans, his hard cock straining against the dark denim.

Despite your lingering guilt about who had to die to bring you into this current situation, you couldn’t deny the way your growing arousal dripped down your inner thighs. The blood on your tongue was proof of Cooper’s ruthless strength, and it had your heart and your cunt beating a mile a minute.

You made quick work of clearing every last drop of blood and speck of dirt off of the second boot, pulling back to survey your work one final time before sitting back on your heels and looking up to Cooper, silently signaling that it was time for him to check the quality of your work. He slowly dropped into a squatting position, looking over the dried leather before turning his eyes to your face, the sheen of tears still shining against the dried blood on your cheeks.

He rose to his previous position once more, beckoning you closer with two fingers until you sat directly in front of him, his gloved fingers gripping your chin as his thumb brushed your tears away. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.” He soothed, a bit of softness peaking through his usual sadistic tendencies.

“If I didn’t do these gruesome things I wouldn’t have found you, and you wouldn’t want that, would you?” He tilted his head, raising his brow in inquisition, waiting for the inevitable frantic shake of your head. It came, as he knew it would. He always knew. He had you wrapped around his finger and it filled him with a pride like no other, knowing that he’d broken you so perfectly.

“God, look at you.” He sighed, genuine adoration for not only his efforts in molding you, but for the devotion you alone held for him, willing to do anything to please him. Your appearance was always exactly to his liking, spending your hours alone while he was at the station taking care of the house, preparing meals and treats for him, and doing self care rituals to keep yourself the picture of beauty, just for him. It was your greatest joy, being the picture of domestic bliss for him, allowing him to be wholly comfortable in your presence to escape from the turmoil of his daily life.

He quickly snapped out of his momentary lapse, his grip tightening on your jaw. “Open that pretty little mouth for me.” His tone was firm, controlled, and you obeyed immediately, a sticky string of red-tinged saliva stretching from your top lip to the bottom before falling to your chin. “Tongue out.” He further commanded, watching the way the muscle lolled out of your mouth like an obedient puppy.

You held your position, watching the veins and tendons in his hands flex as he undid his belt, slowly undoing the zipper of his dark jeans in a motion so painfully teasing you had to hold yourself back from whining for him to please hurry up.

Saliva began to drip from the tip of your tongue the longer you held it out for him, a small pool forming on the toe of his freshly cleaned boot. He held a knowing smirk as he watched you start to shift impatiently ever so slightly, knowing you were doing your best to stay still as your body fought to give in to its desperate urges.

“M’gonna wrap this belt around your pretty little throat and tighten it until you see stars, babydoll. I need you to pinch me if it gets too tight, understand?” His dark demeanor broke for a split second to remind you of the care he’d always take with you, a subtle reminder of why you were so willing to surrender yourself to him.

You eagerly nodded, tilting your head back to further expose your neck as he wrapped the black strap around, threading the end back through the buckle and pulling it to lay against your neck, leaving only a slight give. He held the end like a leash, pulling you back to his crotch as he used his free hand to pull his almost painfully hard cock out of his boxers. You opened your mouth as wide as you could in anticipation, spit still slicking off of your tongue.

He guided the head of his cock to your tongue, watching the way the milky white of his precum swirled with what remained of the bright red blood lingering in your saliva before abruptly thrusting into your mouth, giving you little time to adjust to the size of his length down your throat. His brutality shouldn’t turn you on like this, you knew that, but your clit was throbbing painfully hard and the urge to grind your hips down was growing stronger with every bruising punch his tip gave to the back of your throat.

You glanced up to see Cooper’s head thrown back, his focus situated solely on the feeling of your mouth around him and you took it as an opportunity to chase your own release, spreading your thighs to lower your hips down onto his boot, the firm leather creating a delicious friction against your needy clit. You slowly began rocking back and forth, your focus shifting from his cock to the rhythm of your hips as he continued to facefuck you with reckless abandon.

As you neared your orgasm your movements began to falter, eyes fluttering shut yet again as the control you held over your jaw became less firm. You didn't meant to do it, you never wanted to disappoint him, but your quest for pleasure had clouded your judgment, and your jaw began to tighten, making his thrusts in and out of you more difficult.

He groaned in frustration, the interruption to his precise rhythm snapping his attention back to your position at his feet. He watched you hump his boot like a bitch in heat for one more moment before pulling the belt tighter, stiff leather placing perfect pressure against your neck and taking your breath away. “I’m in control.” He practically snarled, his low tone and dark eyes striking fear in your heart and sending another wave of arousal straight to your core.

“Yes sir, I’m sorry!” You squeaked out, the sound barely making its way up through your strained vocal chords.

“You’re going to continue rubbing your pathetic cunt against my boot. If you don’t cum before I do, you won’t cum at all. Prove how badly you want it, slut.” His words were biting, like fangs digging into the tender flesh of your heart, but the ache between your thighs increased tenfold at the enticingly vicious command.

You resumed your steady pace, sinking your face forward to take his cock down your throat as far as you could, your nose buried in the tamed bush at the base of his cock. You did everything you could to breathe through your nose, the musk of his cedarwood body wash and sweat filling your sinuses with every fated breath. He was intoxicating in every way, your mind addicted to every minute feature of his body, down to the small trail of hair on his stomach that acted as a path to his groin.

Cooper was lost in the warm depths of your mouth, each contraction of the muscles in your throat every time you gagged leaving him delirious, drunk with power over the way you let him use and defile you in such filthy ways. He watched you intently, varying the pressure of the grip he held on the belt around your throat to observe the way you pushed against it, desperate for the airy feeling it provided.

“Fuck, you really are nothing but a braindead fuckdoll I’ve trained to welcome every humiliating act I put you through.” He laughed, pulling the belt tighter once more and the combination of his deliciously degrading sentiment with the bittersweet pressure against your carotid arteries made your head spin. The sounds leaving your strained throat were utterly obscene, desperate moans reverberating around what little space was left inside of your mouth to combine with the exaggerated squelch of saliva every time Cooper thrust into you.

You were close, impossibly so, and you knew Cooper was too. Your actions were quickly becoming a race against the clock, your neglected cunt practically crying out for release from the pleasurable torture the friction against your clit created. You focused your efforts, angling your hips forward just so to allow for the tip of his boot to rub against the tight ring of muscles circling your entrance, the new sensation working in tandem with the gliding of your clit.

As Cooper threw his head back, cock twitching against your tongue, you gave one final grind of your hips down onto the worn leather and fell over the edge, almost collapsing to the hardwood floor beneath you if it hadn’t been for your instinct to wrap your arms around his muscular thigh. Through your haze you felt him pull out of your mouth, tilting your head back to look up at him, his grunts and moans sounding miles away despite him being so close. He pumped his shaft above your head, his fist angling his member down to shoot strings of milky white cum into your hair and across your bloodstained cheeks.

You just clung to him, hugging his thigh while you looked lovingly up at him, a blissed out smile of admiration gracing your lips. Cooper returned the favor, the pride in his gaze making you practically melt into the floor. As your mutual panting subsided he took either side of your face in his hands, thumbs smearing the filthy mixture of body fluids over your skin. He watched in adoration as you nuzzled into his touch once more, forever grateful to simply be held by him in any capacity.

“Angel, you really are the perfect little captive. After all of the depraved things you’ve done for me, there’s no way I’m ever letting you go.” Cooper let out a slight laugh at the way your eyes lit up in response to his sentiment, that doe-eyed wonder never getting old for him.

“You’re my whole world, Daddy. I never want to leave you.” You sighed in contentment, feeling pride in yourself when he gave you the first genuine smile you’d seen from him in days.

—

tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @babygorewhore @strangererotica @hibiskooks @pinastrihaven @dianaxx99 @userchai @solarmoonn30 @prozacwhorehouse @acidqueensstuff @dirtylittlefairytales @batgirlofficial @hereforthehitsbaby

[cameronwillow]

I’m in control

Cooper Adams/abbott x fem reader

Reuploaded!

During your shift at a concert venue, a strange middle aged man demands information about an investigation. And he’s determined to get answers no matter what.

Warnings! Talk of murder, age gap (reader is my age) thigh riding, fingering, praise, manipulation.

“Don’t forget I won’t be able to take you home until everyone is gone and everything is cleaned up!” You call after your younger sister. Her recent graduation of high school rewarded her a up close and personal experience at this concert. She waves off your reminder as you roll your eyes and stand around the VIP area.

You didn’t mention to her that today was supposed to be the arrest of the serial killer The Butcher. It gave you shivers to hear about his crimes during your staff meetings. Preparation for any sort of confrontation brought tension to your shoulders all day as you worked. This job supported you in nursing school and gave you access to concerts. It was a win win.

You sighed and watched people walk by. Every male was to be stopped and questioned by the police. It was dull if you were being honest. It was going to be a while before you were able to leave so you decided to kill some time in a private room.

You blinked in surprise when you opened the door to see a man already in there. He was tall, really tall and muscular. Wearing a sweater, yellow jacket and jeans. You had seen him briefly earlier with a teenage girl, assuming it was his daughter. He was roughly in his forties you guessed. Handsome. Very handsome. Enough to give you awkward pause before you cleared your throat.

“Excuse me, sir. This is for employees only. Can I help you with something?” You tried to keep your voice steady as he loosened a huff of laughter.

“Ah, I’m sorry I know I’m not allowed to be back here. But I have to be honest. The police are making me nervous. My daughter she was really looking forward to this concert and I’m just worried for her safety.”

His tone seemed genuine but there was a darkness in his brown eyes that made you feel alert. You nodded slowly as he took a step forward with a gentle smile. “So…have they caught him yet?”

Your pulse quickens and you part your lips to answer but the stranger chuckles again.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what’s going on, sugar. I know they’ve given every employee the rundown of the big scary Butcher. And I can tell you’re just…aching to tell someone what you know.” When he said the word, “aching.” He glanced down at your legs.

“Sir, I-i really don’t-“ He clicked his tongue, resting both hands on either side of your head, you could smell his cologne from his close proximity as he pressed you against the door.

“No need for formalities, sweetheart. I just want you to answer one question.”

You were afraid and…aroused as he leaned down and whispered in your ear. “How can I avoid the police?”

Your body trembled when he brushed his lips against the shell of your ear. What the fuck was happening? You gasped as the stranger’s large hand moved down and cupped your waist.

“I-I don’t know-you can’t avoid them-“ You stutter as he shakes his head, nudging his thick thigh in between your legs. His size was massive as he was holding you up.

“I don’t think that’s true. The tension in your body tells me you’re lying. I’m good at spotting liars, baby.” You whimper as he encourages you to rub your covered cunt on his knee.

“Really, sir I don’t know. I’m not a manager or anything. I’m just a normal worker and we were told to just be careful and use the code word.” You pleaded as he sets both hands on your hips, guiding them to move harder and higher on his thigh. “No, no, there’s nothing normal about you. You know something. You’re smart and you’re going to tell me.” His voice indicated no room for argument and you were too distracted by the coiling in your stomach to argue.

“You’d have to be with the singer. She has to-“You moaned as he finally slipped his hand inside your pants, pushing aside your underwear with a nod. His fingers grazed your clit and you whined as he gave your pussy a smack.

“She has to what? Use your words, baby doll. I know you can do it.”

All common sense left your brain as he worked in two fingers inside you, curling them deep as you panted and leaned your head back. You had no idea what was happening, who this guy was or why he wanted to know. But you lost yourself and whined.

“She has to tell them you’re with her. She has her own security so-you’ll be clear-oh god.” You squealed as he gripped your chin, continuing to fuck you with his fingers as he forced you to look him in the eye.

“Very good. I’ve had…a long day. And I just can’t waste any more time with the fucking police.” He whispered, hovering over your mouth.

Your climax was nearing as he shoved his fingers impossibly deeper, almost painfully but he balanced it by massaging your clit with his thumb. Your eyes watered as he wrapped the hand holding your chin around your throat.

That sent you over the edge as you came all over his fingers. Your entire body heated as you moaned and dug into his shoulders as he fingered you through it.

Slowly, you came down from your high and breathed heavily as he slowly pulled out his hand. The stranger brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, shoving them in as he forced you to suck them clean. Your eyes were wide and teary as you stared at his dark smile.

“Thank you so much for your help. It’s nice to see employees taking their job seriously.” He smoothed his hair back as you shook. He removed his fingers and gently side stepped you.

He opened the door and you inhaled while blinking away any left over shock. “Wait! You didn’t even tell me your name!”

The man stopped and turned around. Horror chilled your blood as he gave you a wink and started walking away. You knew in that moment exactly who you just helped.

The Butcher.

Dividers by @enchanthings

Tagging @bloodibambiidoll @cxrrodedcoffin @amethystblackkchaos @that-sarcastic-writer @hibiskooks @oceanblvd111 @steph-speaks

[mariamariquinha]

to kill your demons all over again - Cooper Abbott x f!reader

Summary: Cooper was just a neighbor. Just that: a neighbor.

Word count: 10.755

Warnings: I mean, all of them (hehe). But being serious now, that's, like, dark. Dark themed, in other words, which means that you guys can stop right here. It's totally 18+ content, with sexual themes, explicit violence, manipulation, kidnapping, cheating, mental issues, traumas, panic attacks, that kind of thing. Read at your own risk.

Author's note: I've never written anything this long, nor this severe. Maybe you think it's a little similar to the plot of Split, if you watched it? Yes, but it's Shyamalan's work with another Shyamalan's work, and anyone who knows the guy knows that he creates connected universes. That's not the case, it's just poetic license.

It is worth mentioning that I do not agree with anything I wrote, nor do I want to induce any type of harmful behavior. If there are sensitive topics, please DO NOT READ.

Not gonna share my opinion on the movie either, but if take a look at my blog, you'll see I'm one to write for the bad ones ;)

Josh Hartnett? Yes ma'am.

****

It was a strange, predatory feeling. You thought you were becoming paranoid, a little… too anxious. Someone gave you antidepressants, sleeping pills; you couldn't use any of those things, so it only made you more restless on some occasions.

It was on your morning runs that this happened, but it wasn't a rule for the time you spent outside the house. Sometimes, when you went to sleep at night, you stopped in front of your bedroom window and looked down: you saw the lawn, the neighbor's house, the street lit by street lamps. There, as you stared at every detail of your landscape, you felt as if someone was lurking, watching, stealing your sleep, and you ended up locking the window, closing the curtains, and staring at the ceiling into the night because you couldn’t keep your eyes closed for more than five minutes.

And it was like that, day after day after day, pushing your limits more and more, demanding that your lungs burn and your legs almost fail from exhaustion, begging that your physical tiredness would supply your waking mind and then you could actually rest.

You used to have panic syndrome – depression too, but treatable. That would put you on your toes most of the time, constantly reminding you of things from your past you exactly didn’t like to remember, and even if you knew that fear was irrational, sometimes you wondered if that paranoia wouldn’t come to you one day. Probably as a big hairy monster – probably as a deep, long wave of water, hitting you with enough force to knock you out, but not kill. 

Running, tiring yourself out… this was your long wave. You, precisely, taking control over something before it could kill you inside. 

Cooper was just someone you knew by chance. He was your neighbor along with his wife and two children; he was friendly, polite. You couldn't necessarily say you knew him beyond a 'good morning' or, once in a while, how the people collecting the trash were late by a day or two. You weren't one to talk much either, and he never forced long conversations.

The only times you spent more than five minutes in the same space was at the swimming gym, which was very close to the fire station where he worked.

You discovered this by chance too: suddenly you were getting out of the pool and he was there, usually doing his own private training, always very focused. It was a silent dance, in which you arrived at the same time, did the same things and probed each other's orbits without saying a word. The small talk on the sidewalk, the polite waves, the brief 'Merry Christmas' in December… All of this was there, in that neighborhood, limited to the distance of a yard between you. There, between the pools and the chlorine, the two of you only existed, always close but far away at the same time.

It was a simple routine. Again, casual. Definitely one of the few things that gave you a sense of reality and stability.

****

“You haven't been to the pool these days.”

That was an unusual situation, whether due to the question or the context. Mrs. Anderson, your neighbor, had thrown a birthday party for her granddaughter and invited you. You almost didn't go, but on a rare occasion you helped the girl cross the street and, apparently, the kid insisted on having you there.

You were sitting at one of the tables, snacking on a slice of strawberry cake and staring at the table unassumingly while the commotion happened around you; when you heard the question, you looked up in time to see Cooper standing in front of you.

“... I've been working a lot lately,” Which wasn’t a lie. 

He hummed, lowered his eyes to the plate in front of you and then raised them to your face again. 

“Show up there any day you can. It's not the same without you.”

“Oh?”

“I think it's a force of habit. I'm a bit… pragmatic, so to speak. I don't mean to sound weird, I just-”

“Likes routine.”

He gave you an airy smile, which you returned with a more friendly one.

“Me too. I’ll come back, as soon as I have the time. Just don’t ask me to run over some laps, I can’t take it.” 

“As long as you're there, I promise.”

And that was the thing, that… point that made you understand why Cooper, a person you barely knew, was someone you remembered. Because you looked back at your cake and unconsciously looked in the direction he had just left, only to find him looking back just like you were. Because it was that palpable feeling that he was one step away from telling you something but never did, and you were left waiting with more anxiety than usual.

You liked him, as company, but it would be impossible to say that it was because he talked a lot or showed a lot; on the contrary, Cooper understood your rhythm and just followed it. He was easy on the eyes, an active listener, as if he captured every crumb of word or gesture you offered him. He was kind enough to not use the side of the pool you were used to, although you suspected he also had his favorite side, and he was always visibly organized. 

It was a risk that you sometimes took, almost unconsciously: when you went to bed and didn't sleep, you tried to go through your day and sometimes stopped at the wave that Cooper gave you as soon as the two of you left the swimming gym, or at the his figure standing in your doorway as you turned the corner during your morning run.

Nothing extraordinarily invasive, nor absurdly explicit: it was just Cooper being Cooper, and that often left you feeling more consistently pleasant than any medicine you took.

****

It was an accident. It must have been, what, three, four in the morning? And once again, you were having a particular episode of insomnia, as familiar as going to bed that night. On some occasions, when sleep didn't seem to come at all, you occupied yourself with some household task that you didn't pay attention to during the day, such as cleaning the furniture or washing the dishes; that night, you chose to do the laundry.

So yes, it was an accident, even though the door to your laundry room was made entirely of glass, as was the window, and you had a full view of the window of the house next door, which belonged to Cooper. You had never looked there – ever. There was nothing to see. The time you spent in that laundry room was unusual, when everyone was already in bed and there was no sign of light or active life in the houses. You stayed there, listened to music, prepared a snack because you usually didn't eat dinner either.

You had already seen Cooper shirtless at least 15 times. He swam in the same place as you, it was more than natural that this was one of the clearest things about him. It wasn't a big deal, you clearly thought he was handsome but you never gave it a second thought, specifically.

As usual, you put the clothes in the washing machine, turned it on, and ran your eyes over the grass in your yard, then over the fence. Calmly, you leaned over the washing machine, stretched your neck in one way or another, closed your eyes, felt the physical fatigue throughout your body. When you opened your eyes again, you saw that a light on the other side had been turned on, and it was inevitable not to look.

He was serious, working with something you couldn't see through the window. Unlike the other moments, Cooper had strands of hair over his eyes, perhaps from the position of looking at the task at hand, and was still dressed while doing so. You kind of let yourself be looked at, and that wasn't an accident, you admitted that you knew what you were doing.

Then he stopped moving his hands. Calmly, he took them to the fabric of the shirt he was wearing and smelled the collar, then made some decision that made him start to unbutton it. There you should have stopped. He hadn't seen you yet, you could duck or just leave the room to avoid any embarrassment.

You remained there, standing still, and if possible, leaned further over the machine, pressing the fabric of your nightgown against your chest and stomach to have a clearer view. He wasn't muscular, but he was strong: dad body. He was visually robust, natural. And even if you hadn't gone that far, you just realized that it was easy to give in to going a little further; you could just feel a specific shiver down your spine when you saw him from behind, the extension of his back and the flexing of muscles as he did one thing or another.

Yes, you could consider it all an accident. You would say it was, if someone asked, even if the only person who could do that was Cooper, who when he saw you watching him from the other side, didn't hesitate for a second, and seemed like the type capable of keeping that secret.

He grinned, but didn't wave to show more than necessary about seeing you there. With patience almost in slow motion, Cooper mouthed 'go to bed' and it almost made you smile. Almost, of course, because that woke you up from your recklessness enough to make you stand up, running your hands through the straps of your camisole as if you were exposed.

He looked at you openly from where he was, tilting his head to the side.

You waited for something to happen, let him analyze you however he wanted, and then he turned off the light and only his shadow seemed visible there before it disappeared completely. 

Suddenly, it was just you and your reflection in the window glass. Suddenly, it was your eyes darkened, your hands on the thin straps that help cover your sensitive breasts, your mouth partially open. God, your nipples were fucking erect – did he see that?

An accident. Your wet panties and hot body were just that: a fucking accident.

****

It was a chill down my spine; someone sniffing the back of your neck, almost but not quite touching your shoulder, or that familiar feeling of not wanting to close your eyes in the shower for fear of what might appear when you opened them.

You didn't sleep a wink for more than two hours that night. It wasn't the insomnia, or the feeling of being chased: it was just the idea that if you looked out onto your lawn and looked up a little, you'd find Cooper there, in that window, looking back. Before, when you weren't yet clean, you could chalk it up to some hallucination, but you were sure it wasn't. The sensation, the vision, his look… Everything was too palpable for something just illusory.

You touched yourself in the morning – after your regular run, after tiring yourself out and not feeling that sensible tingling sensation going away. You didn't even look in the direction of his house, but, again, it was as if the whole journey was a long race against something other than prey, but the kind of thing that didn't leave your head. 

In the shower, you closed your eyes, and the idea of being watched was replaced by the expectation of being observed by him. Your fingers ran through your hair, all the way down to your neck and you stopped there. Would you really do that? Would you close your eyes and think not just about that night, but about all the other times you interacted with Cooper? 

Your fingers brushed your breasts and you shivered at the idea of his hands touching it instead of yours. Of his rough, crispy palms, a result of his hard work, splayed all over your skin and marking each centimeter of it with a grip or a touch or a pinch. You wanted him to do that, – imagined that Cooper would transition between being soft and rough – to be demanding, to tell you what to do. You pinched one of your nipples; the moan you let out was sinful, indulgent. The coolness of the tiles didn’t do much to ground you, but you managed to have some leverage before placing your feet at the edge of the bathtub, using your other hand to pass through your belly and navel, all the way to your fluttering pussy. 

Everything was extremely hot, chilling, like shocks of pleasure passing through your body. Your clit was so sensitive when you touched it, so at the mercy of the mere idea of ​​having him there, in front of you, maybe between both of your legs, smiling against your skin before sinking his tongue into you. A long, single lick from your entrance to your clit, gathering your juices to test firsthand what you were feeling. You replicated the process: you penetrated two fingers, then slid them up, finding your sensitive nerves, and a relieved sigh came out of your mouth. 

The cool water from the shower didn't ease the fire inside you, nor did your impetuous mission to satisfy yourself with that image in your head. You rolled a nipple between the two of you, pinched it lightly again, and stuck your fingers inside you again, your hips moving as you reached more and more of your spongy spot. Would he let you get on top? Would he instruct you to bounce, or would he ask you to continue that slow torture of feeling him everywhere, seeking the sensation little by little? 

It was enough at that moment, but in the long run you would want more. Like in the pool, when he came out of the water after you and you could see, even if discreetly, the shape of his penis. How come you never paid attention to that before? How can you never notice that it could be big and explicitly ideal to fit inside you? You licked your lips at the thought of sucking him; he would make you get on your knees, he would gladly order you to do it even if you were going to do it anyway. Would he hold your head, thread his fingers in your hair and control your speed? Would it make you choke?

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave; it made your legs shake, your eyes squint and your teeth sink into the flesh of your lower lip. 

You didn't say his name, you wouldn't admit it verbally. In your head, however, when you opened your eyes and didn't feel like you were being placed under observation or some kind of paranoia, you realized that you missed being analyzed, stared at, watched… But by Cooper.

That was a secret you were willing to keep.

****

Your strokes were firm, strong, fast; you let the water pass through you in a strong, definitive way. You walked more laps than usual, maybe out of tension or maybe because you hadn't seen it since you arrived at the gym, as usual.

You eventually stopped. Calmly, you lifted your head out of the water, both hands on the concrete edge of the pool. You took off your goggles, then your cap; you took a breather little by little, like when you were running, staring at the fixed point of the locker room door. Drops of water dripped and ran down your face, and your open mouth burned your throat. You could taste chlorine, the same drops dripping onto your lips and, consequently, your tongue. 

A pair of feet stopped in front of him at a reasonable distance; from the feet you went to the fabric of the shorts, which was familiar, and then to the rest of the crouched body until you found Cooper, completely dry and shirtless, looking at you with that same friendly smile as always.

You gulped, since you could hide it behind you being out of breath and not on how your throat suddenly got really dry. 

“Did you start without me?” 

“I…” You blinked up at him. “I think you're the one who's late.”

His smile got even wider while he nodded along. 

“I had to deal with some things. Nothing serious, but I ended up waking up a little later. I had a long night.” 

The reminder made you not know what to say, so you just let out a brief 'ah' and continued looking at his face, waiting for him to say something more or make that 'accident' something to talk about between you. Cooper weighed that silence masterfully, measuring the length of your attentive face to your lips and your neck, which moved with each dry swallow you took to catch your breath.

This wasn't making your life any easier.

“It looks like your training was harder today.”

That was unusual, but you should have known better than to expect him to act the same way after that show. He actually seemed to be testing you, seeing how you would react. Perhaps your forced neutrality was frustrating him a little; perhaps he expected you to insinuate yourself again at the first opportunity you got.

You looked around the pool, shrugged.

“I have insomnia. Some nights are worse than others.”

“Ah. I see.”

Then you very calmly went to the stairs and left the pool, feeling him behind you, walking towards you. Suddenly your swimsuit started to bother you; suddenly, when he stopped in front of you, you felt pinned to the ground by the look he was giving you, and then everything itched, to the point where you couldn’t stay still. 

“Did it tire you?” His voice was low, secretive. You licked your lips, shook your head in confusion. 

“... What?”

“Swimming. Was it enough to tire you from your night without sleep?” 

“Not a lot.”

His face went from soft to concerned, almost in a mocking way, but you knew better than thinking he was trying to make fun of you. 

“This is unfortunate. You need to rest at the right times, it could be bad for your health if you continue at this pace,” He tilted his head to the side, measuring your face one more time, especially when you snorted. 

“Oh, I’m aware,” You nodded. “Been trying to have a proper sleep since-”

You stopped talking, but he didn't stop paying attention, much less showing that he was waiting for an answer. That feeling of being watched came again, only with more force. With every second of silence on his part, his ears began to hear the beating of his heart, thump-thump-thump-thump-thump, and his hands began to shake and a lump formed in his throat. You remembered the accident, your sister's face; just the idea of ​​the justification for what was going to come out of your mouth took you back to years ago, because suddenly you had forgotten why you didn't talk about it with people. That's how it started. It was always so… sinuous, as if your head had grown three, four times larger, and then your floor would open up and you wouldn't move.

Why did you do that? Why did you think it would make sense to talk about something you've never talked about before? Why did Cooper make you feel comfortable enough to do it?

You grabbed the skin of your chest tightly, digging your nails in there as the grip only intensified. With blurred vision, you tried to speak and, again, you were overcome by a wave that suffocated you, and suddenly your sister was there in front of you, agonizing and bleeding, and the feeling of a cold night with a salty breeze invaded you.

When you no longer felt strength in your legs (when you saw yourself falling to the side), you were almost sure you saw Cooper smiling at the scene, but before you could process that too, you had already blacked out.

****

That was a big one. Your usual doctor was at the hospital and spoke to the emergency doctor who treated you, you were able to hear the conversation. Cooper wasn't around: you remembered seeing him at some point underneath, as if he was carrying you, but since you woke up in the hospital bed, you hadn't seen him anymore. You were still in your swimsuit. From afar, you heard Dr. Tuckerson talk about an 'isolated case' and the other doctor said something about 'medication reassessment', and that made you even more uncomfortable.

You squirmed on the bed, looking away to where they had placed an IV in your arm, then to the sheet they used to cover you. Why an IV?  

“How do you feel?” Dr. Tuckerson came closer, so you snapped your head at him with a deep frown. 

“Why is-”

“We ran some tests and you’re dehydrated,” He elaborated, doing as much as sitting at the edge of the bed. His face was always like that: serene, very thin, with very blue and very penetrating, condescending eyes. “So? Are you feeling okay?”

“... Yes.”

He nodded. 

“Apparently you haven't been eating or sleeping well, which may have influenced the intensity of this episode. Last time we reported one like this, it was a-”

“A year ago, yeah,” You adjusted yourself on the mattress, using one hand to pass all over your face and sighing in defeat. “I don't know what happened.”

Again, a nod. 

“We’re investigating. It was probably a very vivid memory, which also has to do with your current lifestyle. I know it's been difficult for you, but have you done what we agreed? Every time we talk, you say that your adaptation with people has been smooth. Was there anything different in the last few days that may have induced some type of stress in you?” 

Stress wasn't exactly the word, but you didn't think that incident had anything to do with Cooper. Maybe you should be more incisive with the paranoia issue, saying that it stressed you mentally and could be an aggravating factor?

“No,” You shook your head. “I don’t… it’s been normal.”

“Right.”

Unlike other times, Dr. Tuckerson didn't write down anything you said, although you felt like his notebook was nearby. He just stood there, quiet, hands resting in his lap as he stared into your face. It wasn't like with Cooper; his gaze was neither inviting nor receptive, it was more… inspective, like he was trying to press an answer out of you even if he wasn’t asking anything. 

“Your neighbor brought your things,” Then he broke the silence, opening that stupid notebook and going through the small pages. “Cooper. He said you two were at the swimming gym when it happened.” 

“... Ah.”

“Would he be an example of how things are going well?”

You considered his face for a moment, weighted all of your interactions, last night… Then shrugged. 

“I think so. We go to the same gym, we talk sometimes.”

“And what were you talking about when you passed out?”

“My lack of sleep, I guess.”

He hummed, then checked his notebook again – you watched it closely. 

“And he is… how? In general, do you talk about these things? Is he polite, does he hit on you?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

You didn't sound defensive, and honestly, that question was one of genuine curiosity. What, after all, did Cooper have to do with anything? What was Dr. Tuckerson's interest in him, that he was just a play and had no influence on his mental state? Sure, you two had that moment, and you certainly wouldn't talk about it with your psychiatrist, but just as Dr. Tuckerson knew you, you knew how to recognize some of his mannerisms, and that seemed like another worry that he didn't want to share with you.

He sighed, closed the notebook and stared you down. 

“We've never talked about him before. I believe it's a casual thing, like conversations between neighbors or something, but don't you find Cooper familiar? Like a… father, maybe?”

You knew what he was getting at, and you both knew it was something else that was bothering you. Father problems were a normal thing, but you certainly never associated your interests, platonic or sexual, with what that figure represented for you. Still, denying this was like denying a lifetime of knowledge that only Dr. Tuckerson had; even if it were true, it would be very pathetic to admit it.

“I'm not implying anything, right? I just want you to be careful. Cooper is a nice guy, very helpful. It’s important to have this type of contact, even if it’s brief, but you don’t do anything just because. It can be worse.” 

He saw the ring on Cooper's finger – you had seen it countless times, too, just like you saw Rachel and their children. It wasn't the time or the place, but maybe it was the time and the place for a reality check. 

“Okay.”

“Good,” He smiled, placing a hand on top of yours. “You're going to stay here for a while, just until you stabilize a little more. Maybe you'll spend the night. If you need anything, ask them to call me, okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

He left and, as soon as you were alone in that hospital room, you felt an elephant's foot pressed against your chest, and an uncontrollable urge to cry.

****

The feeling of sleeping in the hospital was like having all that paranoia tripled. It was like that when the accident happened, all eyes on you, all the time monitoring you. The silence, however, helped you relax more; medicines too – especially medicines. It was a heavy sleep, without dreams or nightmares, just your eyes closed and the sense of resting.

Maybe that was why you remembered very little about who took you home. You remembered Dr. Tuckerson being there, and probably what sounded like Cooper's voice, but you couldn't be sure. What you did know is that she was put in a car and, naturally, taken home.

****

“Easy there… here you go.”

Cooper felt lucky, but he wasn't going to use it as an advantage; he would hate to see himself as lazy. After so long, it wouldn't be that way that he would take the next step.

You were a bit of an idiot; almost pathetic. At least that's how people made you out to be, including that Dr. Tuckerson, who certainly had more than just a professional interest in you. Who wouldn't, after all? Cooper wasn't one to have such inclinations, but you were all physically organized, attractive, young… With a head like that, you were the perfect combination – easy prey.

He would have made up his mind with you long before, but you were a neighbor, so he had more time to consider making that decision. When he finally decided, which was around the time you started looking at him for longer, he spent time thinking about how he would start and, sometimes, trained on other people to be decisive when your turn would come.

When he laid you down on your bed, he ran the idea through his head: it would go with your thighs first. Thighs that were spread out on the mattress, uncovered by the fabric of your summer shorts, marked by your intense desire to disappear with those morning runs. Cooper looked over them carefully, checked that you were actually almost asleep again before running his fingertips over the inside of them.

Then it would go to the belly. It was always a part he thought about, because either he would go all over the torso or just use fat and skin. Maybe he would go with the torso, but then he would work on the chest, then the arms; would leave the head.

He never thought much about these things conditionally; he had Rachel, and that was enough. He was only human enough to recognize the sexual attraction he had for you, and when he found out what you were like, a little sentimental, the kind who would think about how you would be more obedient as a wife, how you wouldn't question anything, how easy you would be to manage. He particularly would get hard just thinking about it.

But that wasn't the case; there was no other solution. Cooper had already found relief in the possibility of dying and for you it would also be the end of a fight. He would still be doing you a favor, by God, and that was the right thing to do.

You shifted in bed, opening your eyes again. He continued sitting there, observing your face, seeing how your state of almost sleep made you so soft and smiling more than usual.

“You’re here,” You mumbled, a hand going straight to his face. 

“I am,” He said back. 

“Why?”

“I brought you back from the hospital, remember?”

You frowned for a moment, then groaned. It was clear that you were navigating between reality and whatever effect that drug had on you. 

“I thought I was dreaming.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hm. Like the other day, when I…” You were dozing off again, but then your hand fell from his face to his covered leg. That made you open your eyes again. “When I dreamed about you.”

“Did you dream of me?” His question came with an amused tone: not because it wasn’t obvious before that you felt the same way, but the way you just nodded like a puppy, looking up at him as if begging for some attention. 

Cooper almost admitted that he did it too, with you; that after that small moment between you two, he took himself in hand with the possibility of doing whatever he wanted with you, that you were giving him this out, that you wouldn’t give him so much work. So responsive, so… attentive. 

“You shouldn't do that, or tell me that. What should I do with you now, huh?” 

But you didn't respond because, again, you went back to sleep. Cooper stopped smiling immediately – he stared at your expressionless face for a while, as if waiting for you to wake up, and when you didn't, he got up to look around your room.

Remembering Dr. Tuckerson, he thought he could take him out of the game. The guy was a psychiatrist, he had that clinical look of someone who knew everything, and that irritated Cooper. You weren't like that, you were lost, unfocused, uninterested in people. The only time he saw you interested was in himself, and that was a satisfying feeling. 

Looking around your room, he took in the sunlight coming in through the window, hitting your things. He got up and went to a small bookshelf with some books; then he ran his eyes down their spines like he did last time, noticed the titles, and gently pulled out the two that were so familiar and checked the small equipment he had installed there. If he had more time, Cooper would change the batteries, but he didn't want to risk it because, despite being asleep, you were still there and he would hate having to improvise with you.

Then Cooper came out, gave you one last look and closed the door behind him.

“Soon,” He thought to himself, heading towards your stairs. 

It was the kind of thing he couldn't wait to happen.

****

You woke up in a dark room. It was your bedroom, and you realized that you were wearing the same clothes as the day before. You were a little dizzy, your head hurt, so you felt around the room for your things and almost dragged yourself to the bathroom. You had four missed calls from your mother; in the texts, somewhat affectionate words asking about your condition, and finally a warning that she would come over at the weekend to check on you.

You just replied with a brief 'ok' and got into the shower. It took a long time, you were a little out of your orbit: if you tried hard, you would still smell the chlorine from the pool.

While going downstairs to prepare something to eat, Dr. Tuckerson called and asked if you were okay. It was almost 8 pm. You said yes, and mentioned that you were still a little drowsy, so you would heat up some soup left over from another day and go back to sleep.

He asked if you wanted him to come by. You said it wasn’t necessary.

You took a large aspirin in your mouth, took the bowl of soup out of the fridge and didn't want to transfer it to a deep plate, you just stuck it open in the microwave and stood there in front, staring at the light coming from inside, heavily winking while massaging your temple.

A noise came from the back door, and it was the first time you acted quickly since you woke up. You waited, without saying a word, for yet another noise, but instead you received another text from an unknown number.

It’s Cooper

Can I come in?

And looking back, you should have said no. Really, you should never have said a simple yes to him, but you did because you were unbalanced and, at that time, you were clearly drugged. You went there, shuffled down the dark hallway without turning on any lights, and at the back, in the discrete light of the night, Cooper was standing with both hands in his pockets.

“Cooper? What are you doing here this late?” You mumbled, looking both ways when you should’ve asked why he came by through the back door. 

“I wanted to know if you're okay. Dr. Tuckerson asked me to bring you home and since you slept all day… How are you?” 

Dr. Tuckerson hadn't mentioned anything about this help from Cooper, but perhaps he was just more concerned about how you were at that moment and the details were left for later. You accepted his friendly smile and let him enter.

“I’m better. The medicine they gave me knocked me out, I'm particularly tired,” You said, walking back to the kitchen with him on your heels. 

“Could they send you a few more doses, huh? To help you sleep at night.”

“It's a shame they don't make it as easy for someone diagnosed with panic syndrome and post-depression, right?”

He didn't say anything, so you went back to the kitchen and hoped he was at least behind or close by. You continued with your back turned, took the soup out of the microwave and gently placed your fingertip in it to check the temperature. Warm. On point.

“I didn't know that's what you had,” He offered softly, leaning over your counter as you sat opposite him, the two of you facing each other.

There wasn't much point in hiding it. You wanted to, but Cooper had saved you from a huge problem: if you had been alone there, or if it had happened to someone else, maybe you would have had more than the aftereffect of a good sleeping pill. You still considered, though, rotating the spoon in the soup for a while staring at it.

“I was in a car accident with my sister when we were younger. I never fully recovered from that.” 

“We don't need to talk about it if you don't want to.”

“No! No, I…” You looked up at him. “I think it's more than fair for me to be honest with you in this regard. I kind of passed out in front of you and made you take me to the hospital.” 

“You didn't make me do anything, these things happen. I'm a firefighter, that's basically what I do.”

“Still,” You pressed. “Thank you.”

He stared at you for a while and you stared back; it was as if he knew something you didn't, something that made a light of mischief shine in his eyes. Then, after a discreet spoonful of soup, you remembered why you could be like this, or why it was convenient for him to show up at your house at night.

Your cheeks warmed, just as your neck. 

“So you remember,” Cooper murmured. 

“Sorry for that.”

“Why?”

“Well, because you’re married, for starters,” Your collected tone wasn't enough to convince him, which should have been a warning because his argument alone should have ended the conversation.

You didn't tell him to leave either; again, you didn't even deny him entering your house. It was kind of late, Cooper came in the back door and… Damn, shouldn't he be with his wife and kids?

The mention of his marriage didn’t do a thing, then. He nodded, accepted what you said, but didn’t make a movement to create some distance or break eye contact. He smiled softly at you, wandered your face with his eyes. 

“I was married last night too.”

“... I know.”

“So do you regret it?”

Yes, and that was one of the rare occasions where that should be the right answer, but you still didn’t say it. You glared at him, turned to your soup and sipped another spoon. 

“You said you dreamed of me.”

“I did.”

“What happened in that dream?” 

“Cooper-”

“I want to know. Tell me, please.”

Cooper was magnetic, skilled with words and polite. That line Dr. Tuckerson had said, the reminder that you should be careful, it was all in the back of your head, but looking at Cooper in that moment excluded that entire narrative. Suddenly he wasn't a risk, suddenly you wanted to open up to him (in more ways than just the metaphorical one) and that made you fold without even realizing it.

“I-” And before you could keep going, he had one hand in your bowl, discreetly pushing it to the side to have more access to you. “I dreamed that you were in my bedroom.”

“How?”

“How…?”

“How did I end up there?”

“I don’t know, you were just… there.”

He hummed, then used the small space between you to slide his hands over the counter, his fingertips brushing your knuckles. His head was down, focused on your fingers, and you didn't know if you could breathe. You should stop it there, demand that he leave, but nothing would come out; you acted like someone under a spell.

“I know how I would end up there,” Cooper raised his eyes, locking it with yours. “You would wear one of your satin nightgowns, just like the one you wore when you watched me. I don't think we would stop at that show, because you would seduce me.”

His index finger traced a squiggle on the back of your hand. You couldn't move, you couldn't react. Your tiredness and everything else were completely replaced by the same fire in that laundry room, in the shower when you masturbated thinking about him, and you leaned into the feeling without even thinking twice.

“It's not really a dream, don't you think? Because you could have just opened that door and I would have come here if you asked me.”

“... Is that why you came here tonight?”

Cooper smiled openly. 

“I came here to check.”

“Check what?”

You knew exactly what you imagined under that shower: the expression that would probably be on Cooper's face, how he would touch you. Maybe it was the context of the hospital, the way he saw you, because when he touched your face, a hand covering your cheek and your ear, it was like a caress. The first kiss was a long peck, just to test the waters. He pulled away a little, his breath hitting your face, and before your lips could cool, Cooper came closer again and gave you another, this time longer. His mouth was soft, cool; with a slightly unshaven beard, it was a contrast between his lips and the rough hair on his face. It was sensual. When he tilted his head to the side just a little, just enough to handle you and fit into that kiss better, you almost moaned, either because of the sensation or because you wanted him to go faster, to take you for himself right there.

You couldn’t remember the last time you kissed someone; not even a date. Your life was kind of empty in that aspect, which you accepted because you weren't an easy person. Not with Cooper. Cooper barely knew you and didn't seem any less interested in you after what he witnessed. He massaged your tongue with his eagerly, as if he wanted to consume you just as you wanted to be consumed, and that wasn't the kind of thing solved with a fertile imagination.

The counter started to be an impediment when the kiss cooled a little. He looked at that thing separating both of you as if it were offensive, but he didn't break the touch.

“Do you want to-”

“Mm-hm.” 

It seemed like every last bit of tiredness and insecurity on your part had gone as soon as he gave you that smile.

****

He knew you would taste delicious, just as he hoped you would be completely responsive. It was a fact: you needed command, guidance, and he was sure that Dr. Tuckerson wasted a lot of time being the nice guy while trying to be in the position he was in at that moment.

Cooper asked you to take off your shorts, along with your panties. He had time, Rachel and the kids were with her mother for a visit, but he was thirstier than expected. You obeyed so beautifully; you opened your legs as he wanted, exposed yourself to him and… God, you had such a beautiful pussy, so wet and ready for him. He didn't resist. He calmly took off his shirt, placed it on the coffee table and stopped you from taking off yours. Not yet, he said, I want you to trust me. And again, you trusted. Blindly. Not for a moment did you suspect his presence there, or that it would be stupid to think that that asshole psychiatrist of yours would ever place him as someone who would take care of you.

He wanted to feel that immaculate skin on his, so he lowered himself between your legs and let his face pass over your thighs, as well as the palms of his hands, tracing each muscle, each part, imagining the magic of when the cut would pass right there, at the junction of your thigh and your pussy, and everything would be palpable. Cooper nibbled on the meat, heard you hiss and smiled before kissing the area. He had something to do, he couldn't forget that, so he discreetly lowered his lips to your entrance, where he sank in, never to leave again. 

You had a taste of perdition, of pure desire. He grunted when, as he sucked your clit very slowly, he felt your fingers pull his hair, without guiding him but letting your nails scratch his scalp. He ran his tongue between your entrance and your sensitive spot; he had to give up the grip he had on your thighs to open you up and press one or two fingers inside, but it was worth it, because as soon as he found a rhythm, your sighs did it for him. 

Cooper rutted against the upholstery of his sofa; he was getting hard as a stone. As he became more anxious and excited, he accelerated the movements of his fingers because he wanted you to cum in his mouth, he wanted to feel more of your flavor before he felt you squeezing against his cock. He couldn’t help desiring you as much as he did at that moment: the prospect of having that control over yourself made it for him. 

Your orgasm was intense, almost spectacular. Cooper thought you were a virgin, but your pussy had been used, that's for sure. He lamented as he licked his lips and drained the rest of your juices, when he got up to undo his belt and pants and saw you there, with big horny eyes, without any support until he arrived. 

“You can take it off now,” He murmured, not leaning down for another kiss because he wanted to see it all. 

Your torso was a different situation and he knew that, hence the interest. It was easy to get your mother to tell you what had happened when you moved, conveying in certain details that you were fucked up in the head because your father was mentally ill with homicidal tendencies. As you exposed yourself in the low light of the living room, Cooper saw the scars that adorned just below your breasts, with one that crossed the area of ​​your ribs that he could always see if he passed by, when swimming or when you wore certain outfits in your morning runs.

It was the last prize, the icing on the cake. You were so immersed in what was happening that you didn't notice him noticing the marks, not even when he ran his hand over them. When he raised his palms to massage your breasts (when he felt, again, the thin skin that surrounded them and squeezed them), he felt like he could cum right there, in his own pants, watching you squirm and bite your lower lip.

Sensible, very sensible. 

He reached down and ran his tongue over a nipple, but this time he watched your reaction. He suddenly decided that he would want you conscious when he was going to use that part, to see how you would react, to test how much your face would contort before you passed out from the pain. Yes, he thought, the legs would come second then, and the breasts first.

“... Cooper,” You sighed between gasps when he kept going, a hand on the back of his neck to stop him. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Don't you think you can handle one more? Just one more?” Cooper asked, sucking the nipple between his lips before cooling it off with a soft breath. “You're so tight, honey. I don't want you to get hurt.” 

It was the right thing to do, to say; his eyes even turned dark with excitement at that. He smiled satisfied, then went back to work, going between sucking them and kissing them tightly, sometimes even pinching them. You would squirm, moan, gasp, sigh – all the while rabbiting your hips to get closer to his crotch, then brace him between your legs. 

You didn't know how strong he was there, which was an advantage, but a warning for him to be careful. A little more effort and you could dominate him. But you wouldn’t do it – you were too busy pushing your chest up against his mouth, taking all he was giving you. 

Cooper unconsciously looked up and saw the camera he had right on his ceiling, one you knew because you installed it yourself. Your mother said it was an exaggeration; it was right there that he almost thought about killing her. She was just like his mother and you didn't deserve that.

The thought made him suddenly angry. He felt his body boil with irritation, which made him blink a few times and feel his breathing become heavy; Cooper didn't touch himself if you noticed that, but then he was seeing red and couldn't stop.

He pulled away from you and looked over you. He took in his body with his eyes, then his confused face, and all he could hear or see or feel was his mother, right there in his ear, saying all the things that were wrong with him, or the slaps he got, the hair pulling, the cuts. 

“Coo-”

Your neck was softer than he thought, but your legs were as strong as his assumption. You tried to push him away with your knees as soon as he leaned over you and grabbed your neck with both hands, not pushing but squeezing. You began to struggle beneath him, hitting him in the face, arms, chest; if he hadn't dealt with it before, if you were the first, maybe he wouldn't have been able to, but he had strength and he could dominate you.

Your mouth started to open with lack of air and you tried to scream, but nothing came out. Typical. He liked it that way, when there was a fight, a debate, when he needed to press a little harder or put more weight on top. Cooper felt strands of hair fall under his eyes, but he didn't lose focus: he looked into your eyes, which were now scared and desperate, then finally took the next step he had been waiting for for so long. A feeling of satiety passed over him as he began to see your face give way, as did your strength. Little by little, amidst your alert body, your slaps lost their strength, as did your scratches and pushes. He didn't give in until he saw you take one last breath of suffocation, and he held on for a while longer until you actually passed out.

Cooper sighed with relief when he saw his body finally passed out. He moved away a little to loosen the grip on his neck and your touch on his torso, then he got off the sofa, fastened his pants and belt, and stretched his back.

He looked at his wristwatch, then tentatively looked through the living room window to see if there was anyone on the street. Then, calmly, he went to the camera wiring and, with the help of a chair, removed it from the ceiling of the room. He dressed you again: panties, shirt and shorts. He would have to go with his car, but he already expected that. The backyard cameras had already been discarded, so it wouldn't be a problem, but it would have to be quick.

Just in case, as soon as he put you in the trunk, he applied an additional dose of tranquilizer, so you wouldn't wake up until you got where you were supposed to be. He put you in the trunk, caressed your face and closed it.

****

Why do you think he didn't kill you?

You wanted to tell her that he just didn't kill you because he didn't have time, or because it would be inconvenient because you were a neighbor, or that he just wanted to torture you, but she already knew that; Dr. Josephine knew Cooper better than anyone else. So you stayed quiet, shrugged your shoulders, and she wrote something down in her notebook like Dr. Tuckerson usually did.

When you woke up, you felt so dizzy that you thought you were going to vomit. You didn't, however, because you felt very strong and tight restraints on your wrists, which were tied above your head. There was no way to move much: there was space, but you were placed in a sitting position and the grip was strong enough that you couldn't even get up. You tried, of course; you pulled until you felt your shoulder hurt, until you saw that either you could undo it or you wouldn't be able to get out of there.

It was like a basement, but there wasn't much in it. You saw some concrete counters and an iron table; on the ceiling, a hook similar to those used in a butch-

No. No, no, no, no, no, no.

A feeling of despair passed over you and you began to scream, while you tried incessantly to free yourself. This couldn't be happening. Your heart was in your mouth, beating against your chest, suffocating you. The muscles in your arms and shoulders creaked against the strength of that binding, your legs struggled for nothing, and you began to cry uncontrollably as you felt a wave of panic consume you. It wasn't the usual familiar feeling, no; it was something primal, instinctive, strong. You didn't just think you were going to die, you knew you were going to die.

You stopped after about fifteen minutes. The floor was rough and began to hurt the soles of your feet; you stayed there, leaning against the wall, suffocating in your own fear, trying not to lose control even though you had already lost it immediately.

How did he find you?

You began to get the impression that Dr. Josephine was studying you more than studying Cooper, and you needed Dr. Tuckerson's reassurance to understand that she was trying to help you.

It took almost an hour, perhaps, for him to appear there. By that time, when your tears had already dried and you were feeling your body dehydrated with sweat, you were staring at a fixed point in the room: a small window, or just a square with glass on the wall, high up, almost covered by a piece of cardboard. The noise made you look directly at that door and…

“It didn't look like him. I mean, it was him but… It was different.”

“How different?”

He had a cocky demeanor, despite appearing somewhat stiff in his gait. As you watched him calmly enter the room, passing by you as if you weren't even there, you shrank against the wall as best you could, feeling your entire body stiffen in pure fear. That was a familiar feeling, the fear – seeing someone in front of you who intended to hurt you was familiar territory.

Cooper (or the Butcher) must have known this, because he took advantage of this tension to continue there, probably looking for something while ignoring you. Tears began to form in your eyes again, but instinctively you held them back; your breathing became labored and uneven again.

He then looked at you with the same friendly smile as every other time, except for his eyes, which were empty and dark. In his hand, he had a knife: small, like a pocket knife. Later you would discover it was an oyster shucker.

“I tried to make it as comfortable as possible for you, hon,” His voice was weirdly livid, and he didn’t even flinch when you tried to kick him away when he crouched down in front of you. “Not familiar? I think it is. For me it is, at least. Although it would be selfish of me to make this comfortable just for me, so maybe I should accommodate you too.” 

Once, as a child, your father had cut you with a hunting knife. He didn't even hunt, you didn't even know where it had come from, but you were avoiding a stab to your sister and ended up being grazed, right in the rib region, below the chest. It was the first of many, but it was a feeling that was not easily forgotten.

Cooper stuck that knife in your leg. Without even hesitating, that easy, fast. You couldn't scream, despite the latent pain, but you opened your mouth to try to express something, which you also couldn't. He used that time to analyze your contorting face and streaming tears; probably studied how you would react, what you would do.

“Damn, did I do it the wrong way? Did he just cut it and not stick it in? Tsk,” Cooper tilted his head to the side, searching for your face. “Sorry for that. I'm also the type to cut it, but only after it's already dead. If I do it beforehand it makes a mess.”

You had already heard a lot about the Butcher and, despite that memory being the last thing that crossed your mind at that moment, you kept going through the pain if you had missed any sign in Cooper, besides the fact of your obvious stupidity of having sex with him. There wasn't – there just wasn't. He was a normal guy, with a normal life and a normal family, but at that moment he was sticking a knife in his leg and telling him how he prefers to kill a victim. You would be next. You, with that almost irreversible pain burning in your thigh, would suffer torture before being cut into pieces.

“Why don't you talk to me? You liked talking to me so much before.”

A small grunt of pain left your throat, along with the labored sound of your panting as you tried to get used to the sensation. You still hadn't looked him in the face properly after the stabbing; when he did, he had a worried, sickly frown on his face.

“Here we are, hi…” He smiled. “You are a very strong woman, yes ma'am. Very different from what your mother told me.”

You snapped into action, knife in you or not. 

“The fuck you did to my mother?” You snarked, and that made him lose his psycho smile for the sake of a dark expression, as if you just spit on his face by the mention of her. 

“I didn't do anything. I wanted to, but I didn't, because she's nothing more than a cunt. She came to my house and told Rachel everything. I know who you are because of her.” 

Heavens, Rachel… the children… Did they know what a man he was? The things he did? Were they safe?

Cooper saw your expression change as if you were reacting to what he said about your mother, because he shook his head again in disapproval. Out of the blue, he took hold of your jaw harshly and got you close to his face. 

“Where's your sister?”

More tears began to form on your face and no matter how much you tried to free yourself from his touch, Cooper tightened his grip on the juncture of your bones, with another of the familiar pains of a life of abuse. Not her, please, you thought, even if there was nothing he could do, even if it was just you who he wanted. You didn't ask yourself why; you didn't want to speculate what would make him choose you, because the answer was obvious. You were easy, approachable. Nothing in your life was stable, you had no one. With a mother who bordered on narcissism with a big good and a little encouragement, you ended up underneath him, having erotic dreams and being subjected to the condition he wanted to impose on you, which was exactly that: submissive, new flesh.

No one would miss you if he killed you – when he killed you. 

“I looked at the records. I know she died because her leg was cut off in the accident and you stood there, doing nothing. You let her die,” He breathed against your face, your cheeks drowning in tears and your gasps coming alongside pants. “And I'm going to do the same thing. I'm going to send you in pieces to go to the same hole as her.” 

Again, you tried to move away from his grip, but all it did was intensify the pain in your shoulders and the searing one in your leg. Cooper let go of you, the back of your head hitting the wall. 

He stood up, looking over at you and you couldn't lift your head to look back. 

“That knife is in your vein, and if you try to take it out, you'll bleed like her. That's why I'm not going to take it off, understand? Because I want you to stay alive for now.” 

Cooper turned his back; he would leave. He would leave and you would stay there, agonizing, feeling every inch of your body burn with tension, fear and pain. You cried again, this time with more intensity, and suddenly your arms went soft with giving up.

“... I don’t want to.”

You saw him stop, look at you over his shoulder. 

“I don't want to die. What did I do to you?” 

He threw his head back, squeezed his eyes shut – again, bothered by you. You thought that he would kill you right there, just because you asked that, but it took you so much strength to do so that it was just inevitable, so you asked for an answer. 

Why didn't he kill you?

Because he knew that if he killed you, he would heal your pain, and he wasn't willing to help you. When he said he would make you find your sister, a feeling of relief passed through you: that you would no longer have a nightmare, that you would be able to rest, that you would be able to ask for forgiveness. Forgive me for leaving you there. Forgive me for not knowing what to do. Forgive me for not protecting you.

It was a reaction of desperation and protection, Dr. Tuckerson would later say. That your brain had processed that you were going to die anyway, so it would take the step of accepting your fate and giving him a sense of comfort with what you had available.

“You need to find your peace, just like me. Your mother did this for you, she put me on your path and this is how it will be. I will relieve you of your pain, just as I intend to relieve myself of mine.” 

You looked him in the eyes, with as much rigidity and seriousness as you could manage. You gulped, licked your dry lips. 

“... One daughter has already been taken from her, and you will take the other. Who do you think you are to do this?” 

Cooper considered you with narrowed eyes. 

“It won't be on your terms.”

“So fuck you, you piece of shit.” 

Little did you know, but that smile and those words would be the last things that would connect you to Cooper.

****

You were there for a week. It almost killed you.

He didn't show up: he wouldn't give you water, food, or let you go to the bathroom. You smelled like piss.

You had already surrendered the points, you already knew it was the end of you. That deep down, even if people helped you, you were destined to die as your father wanted you to die: left in some corner, dirty, injured, defeated.

You had a fever: the cut became infected. The circulation in your arms was impaired due to the position you were in and you sometimes had small lapses, like reflexes, and tried to pull them down or simply let them go.

It was there, in the agony of waiting for your death, that you had time to think about the matter, and these would be the details you would tell Dr. Josephine when they needed you again. That your paranoia about being watched was because Cooper was watching you, that the sleepless nights, pretending to be insomnia, were reflections of the invasions he made in your home. That he took away your peace, little by little, while smiling at your conversations and interacting as if he were just a good neighbor.

“You had asked me that time why he hadn't killed me,” You said, the two of you walking in the patio of that hospital, both hands behind your back. “I think it was because he wanted me to suffer what he suffered.”

And then Dr. Josephine considered that with a certain regret, stopped walking and made you stop too, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“He thought you were just like him.” 

And maybe you were? There, sitting in that dark room, waiting for your death, you thought about all the anger you felt when you stuck that sliver of car bodywork into your father's chest, how ecstatic it was to free yourself from the demons that imprisoned you.

Then you smiled, in what felt like the last bit of your life energy, and thought that dying meant having the pleasure of knowing that if there was an afterlife, you knew that your father would be there too, and that no one would agonize in it function of his mind anymore. 

And when they found you, in the midst of a shock from the infection, you felt your head was light with the idea that if they didn't, you could agree with Cooper and take comfort in the idea that your mother really gave you one more gift: the chance to kill your demons once again.

****

[instructionsnotincluded]

True North - Sneak Peek (John "Bucky" Egan x Original Female Character)

Ok so after a handful of messages yesterday, I was feeling inspired and a little excited about the possibility of a new fandom and may have binged some of Masters of the Air late last night. I'm not quite sure where it's going to end up, but here's part of the first chapter. Testing the waters (or clouds?) to see if there's even any interest in it. OR if it's just total shit, since it's a new era I've never written for before. (If so, we can just pretend this never happened, hahaha.)

Pairing: John "Bucky" Egan x Original Female Character

Length: 1935 Words

Warnings: Language, military inaccuracies, writer flying by the seat of her pants as she tries to research more about WWII and pilots, mentally cursing herself for not paying closer attention in history class, 18+, MDNI.

“You’re flyin’ today, Frank!” 

The loud accented voice filled her ears, the brunette squinting her eyes closed tightly as she heard footsteps echoing all around the shared room, the sounds of trunks opening and closing joining in a moment later. She’d just been on the verge of a delicious dream with Gary Cooper’s character from The Westerner when Dorothy Skylar’s voice interrupted their suggestive conversation, her friend rudely butting into the fantasy.

“If you don’t get up, they’ll give your spot to the boys!”

“Ok!” Frank lifted her arm into the air, waving it around to signal she was, in fact, alive, “ok! I’m up—I’m getting up. Keep your panties on.”

“We call ‘em knickers ‘round here, love!” Dorothy’s laughter bounced along the walls, mixing in with the various posters, postcards, photos, and letters pinned above each of the beds, “if you’re going to talk about them, get it right!”

“You are all so irritating,” Frank shifted into a sitting position, the thin strap of her silk tank-top falling over her shoulder as she pressed the heel of her palm into her eye, “does no one like to sleep in anymore?”

“Haven’t had the luxury in years, darling,” Dorothy finished buckling her belt, pausing briefly in the full-length mirror as she adjusted the pins in her curls, “while you Americans have been ignoring what’s been going on across the Atlantic, we’ve been living this nightmare for years.”

“Well—at least it’s a shared one now,” Frank rested the back of her hand against her mouth as she stifled a yawn, “alright, I’m getting up. Where am I going?”

“Thorpe Abbotts,” Dorothy glanced over her shoulder to look at Frank as the shorter woman moved around her bed and over to her trunk, pushing aside piles of unfolded clothing to find her uniform, “should be a quick flight, you’ll be back before dark.”

“Maybe,” Frank disrobed and redressed once her undergarments were secured, Dorothy averting her eyes as Frank changed before messing with her hair, “we’ll see—last time I flew the airfield manager wouldn’t let me off the plane until he’d spoken to at least three men, one of whom was ranked lower than me.”

Dorothy only hummed, both women more than aware of how difficult it could sometimes be ferrying planes to and from airfields and bases, especially if the Americans were involved. It was still shocking to most men that women flew—and while the program in the US was slowly getting off the ground, the British had fully embraced female pilots, the Air Transport Auxiliary allowing women to help ferry new, repaired, and damaged aircraft between factories, plants, airfields, and squadrons. Frank had jumped at the chance to fly, to do something for the war effort that wasn’t working in a factory—she had well over four-hundred hours of flight time in the US, and while the United States Army Air Forces wasted time debating on whether or not you needed a dick to fly, she bypassed the red tape and joined the ATA shortly after Jacqueline Cochran led the first group to England. Fast forward two years later and Frank found herself an active member of the No. 6 Ferry Pool, doing whatever she could, whenever she could. 

“Are you going to see that boy of yours?” Dorothy asked, nodding towards one of the folded letters on Frank’s nightstand, the corner of it peeking out from under one of her journals.

Frank shook her head as she finished buttoning up her flight suit, the material heavy, thick, and too big for her frame before sliding on the sheepskin jacket. That was another thing about being a female pilot—there weren’t any uniforms to fit the female body, the material often baggy on her arms and legs, but tight across her hips. “He went down a few months ago over the North Sea,” Frank mentally scolded herself for not tossing the letter after she heard the news. They hadn’t been that close—a few afternoon dates when she found herself on overnight trips to London and he happened to be there, brief memories of them sneaking around hallways, bodies pressed up against walls as they sought comfort and distraction in one another. He was from Texas and smelled like home, reminding her of easier times when she was away at college, just trying to find direction in life. But like that experience, he was gone and she was left to figure out which way was North once again. 

“Frank…”

“It’s fine,” Frank reached for her bag, Dorothy pausing at the doorway, eyes cloudy with regret as she watched her friend pass her, pressing the heavy wooden door open as both women stepped out into the hallway of the dormitory the ATA housed them in, “it’s war.”

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t mean something…that it doesn’t hurt…”

“I thought you were British,” Frank pushed the emotion and tears away, scolding her heart for clenching as she turned to walk backwards, pressing a finger onto Dorothy’s badged chest, “aren’t you supposed to ‘stiff upper lip’ everything?”

Dorothy only rolled her eyes, the girls exiting the building a few moments later, the cloudy gray English sky greeting them as they crossed the pathway towards the waiting trucks, “have I ruined your flight time?” Dorothy asked quietly once they were in the back of the jeep, eyeing her friend as Frank leaned heavily against the side, “you’re not going to be distracted are you? You’re flying a Class 5 aircraft today—you need to be focused.”

“I’m fine,” Frank waved her off, “and even if I wasn’t, I’d be fine once I’m in the air. Trust me, that’s the only place my mind doesn’t wander.”

Dorothy didn’t appear convinced, but didn’t push the matter, the girls sitting in silence the rest of the ride to the airfield. Planes dotted the landscape, the tower looming in the background. Most of the planes would find homes on other bases or airfields, another tool for the boys to use in their battles. For a while it felt like production was stalling, they had so few to ferry around, but it seemed in the last year or so it had definitely picked up, so many different classes of aircraft ready to be delivered to the Allies. Frank hadn’t yet flown into Thorpe Abbotts, the Royal Air Force station just a handful of miles to the east of Diss, Norfolk. It was fairly new, having been built the previous year, but once the United States Army Air Forces took possession of the airfield, it seemed like activity was picking up. 

The boys at Thorpe Abbotts seemed to be going through planes like candy, and Frank was pretty sure this was their fifth ferry to the airfield in less than two weeks. Typically they flew to the smaller satellite bases once a month, maybe twice if there were mechanical issues, but five times in two weeks? Something was definitely going on in East Anglia. She’d heard low rumblings of the amount of planes that went down during their missions from the British pilots—the men criticizing the Americans for bombing during the day rather than waiting until evening. One conversation she overheard at dinner a few weeks ago seemed to be about the recently arrived 100th Bombardment Group and how they kept losing men to dumb tactical decisions. “It’s war,” one of the heavier accented men had said, slumped backwards in his chair as he rested a beer on the table, “you do what you need to survive.”

“...are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

Frank’s eyes snapped back to those of Commander Dorothy Skylar’s, the three gold stripes she wore on the shoulder strap of her jacket seeming to catch in what little sunlight they had today, making Frank’s two stripes seem even less important than they already felt. “Yes, sorry,” Frank shook her head and the memories away, forcing herself back into the present, “I was just thinking about Thorpe Abbotts and some of the conversations that I’ve heard in passing about it.”

“They’re losing men and planes at a rapid rate of speed,” Dorothy nodded, glancing down at the folder of papers Frank just realized the woman was carrying, “I don’t think this will be your last ferry there.”

“No,” Frank turned her head as she watched the massive Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress come into view, eyes slowly taking in the matte green of the plane, white lettering and stars decorating the wings and body, “no, I don’t think it will be either.”

The girls scrambled out of the jeep when it came to a stop, their male driver neither acknowledging nor checking with them before he sped off, Dorothy just barely clearing the rear left bumper as he turned. “Fucker,” Dorothy whispered under her breath as they crossed the tarmac, “we fly planes and he drives a jeep—yet we’re still the gum under his shoe.”

“Men are babies,” Frank said as she approached the plane, left arm extending to slide across the edge of the wing, “they move from one tit to another, starting with their mother’s, until they die.”

Dorothy laughed, shaking her head as she watched Frank move through the checklist she had memorized by now, a few of the engineers hovering nearby if needed. A younger woman, who appeared to be just barely over eighteen approached quickly a handful of minutes later, clipboard pressed tightly to her chest, “Stella Frank?”

“Captain,” Frank corrected her, the girl almost shrinking back in on herself as she looked over at Dorothy for approval, but the higher ranked commander only stared back blankly, “it’s Captain Frank.”

“Yes—yes, Captain Frank,” the woman shuffled a few papers around as Frank came to stand beside Dorothy, both women waiting as she handed over a thin packet of instructions, hand shaking as she did, “here are your pilot notes, I’m so sorry they weren’t delivered sooner.”

“Thank you…” Frank waited expectantly but the girl didn’t appear to catch on that Frank was waiting for her name, and instead smiled politely at both women before scurrying off. 

“Must you be so brash all the time?” Dorothy asked once the girl was out of ear shot, “I think today’s her first day.”

“Then she’s lucky she stumbled across me,” Frank flipped open the folder, eyeing the notes that gave her heading and speed instructions, as well as landing information, “if it’d been Ryan or Phillips she’d be on a plane back to the states right about now with wet knickers.”

“You’re not wrong,” Dorothy squinted up towards the sky, “you better get on with it—you’re due at Thorpe Abbotts in a few hours. You might get held up for a bit after you land, I think you’re ferrying back one of the planes that took heavier fire, so be safe.” Frank saluted her commander and Dorothy only rolled her eyes, “and watch for the fog, alright? I don’t know if Carol put it in the notes, but the fog around the airfield is sometimes incredibly thick. The boys may not see you until you’re landing.”

“And they have seen a woman before, right?” Frank lifted her eyebrows and Dorothy only shrugged playfully, “this isn’t one of the groups where there’s hardly any women on base and I’ll feel like a monkey at the zoo, right?” Dorothy took a few steps back in the direction of one of the metal buildings along the tarmac, a wide smile across her face. Frank only raised her voice to be heard, “right?”

“Don’t fall in love, Captain!” Dorothy called back, “we’ll see you back later tonight.”

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Hi I was wondering if you can write the Can you please be civil?" "No." "Just this once?" "Also no. I have a reputation." With Melissa Schemmenti x reader please

I was a little unsure where to go with this one, so the lines aren’t quite said between Melissa and the Reader, but they do feature!  Also, sorry that this isn’t as reader-centric as the other one shots I’ve done, but my muse wasn't cooperating!  One final apology -  having watched precisely one game of baseball where the nachos and beer were my favourite parts and when playing rounders my sole job being home base (essentially, sport isn’t exactly my bag) please excuse anything that doesn’t sound quite right. 

*

“Can you please be civil?”

Melissa looks up to where Barb stands at the end of the bench, eyes pleading.  The first grade teacher no longer took an active roll in the elementary school soft ball game, but she still wore her jersey and acted as cheerleader and coach.  “No.”

“Just this once?” asked the older woman, giving it one more try.

“Also no.”  The red head stood, swinging the baseball bat in her grasp.  “I have a reputation to uphold and a trophy to keep.”

Barb fixes her friend with an exasperated look.  To say that Melissa was competitive was an understatement and reasoning with her in the midst of a competition was nigh on impossible.  She could only hope you arrived soon to help soften her sharp edges before she cut someone too deeply.

“You could always try throwing them off their game by being super nice?” suggests Janine, rocking back and forth on her heels.  “They wouldn’t expect that.”

Melissa slowly turns to look at the young woman, shifting her grip on the bat and looking positively menacing.  “Or I could just beat their asses?”

*

Jacob slumps down on the bench, suitably cowed by another of Melissa’s outbursts.  She didn’t just reserve her no nonsense attitude and catty comments for the other team.  No, her own team got it just as bad, if not worse. 

“Damn girl, you gotta calm down!” called Ava.  “The game hasn’t even started yet and you about to blow your top!”

“Well maybe if anyone on this damn team could hit the damn ball I wouldn’t be so damn pissed!”  She let her eyes travel over her colleagues and for the day, teammates.  “What happened to what I taught you at the batting cages, huh?”

*

“Hey guys!” you smile as you approach the Abbott Elementary team.  You slow your steps as you start to feel the tension radiating off them. The game hasn't even started yet and it seems something has gone down. And gone down badly at that.

“Hey!” comes the bright greeting as Melissa turns to greet you, slinging the bat over her shoulder as she slips her free arm around you in a hug, pressing a kiss to your hair.  “I was starting to worry you weren’t coming.”

“And miss all the fun?” you laugh.  “Not a chance.  I would have been here before now but my hunk of junk on wheels had other ideas.”

Melissa shakes her head.  “You really gotta let me have my cousin have a look at that.”  She leans in close, lowering her voice to whisper into your ear.  “Or you could have just stayed at mine last night like I suggested.”

“Then neither of us would be here on time,” you smirk.

*

“Okay, I get threatened with having my nails pulled off one my one but she gets Momma Bear Schemmenti defending her pitching?  How is that fair?” demands Ava.

Gregory turned to look at the Principal.  “You want to say that to her face?”

“Hell no!  I ain’t got a death wish and the reason I built my bunker wasn’t to hide from her!”

*

It’s your turn to bat.  The moment you were dreading.  It wasn’t as if you were a star pitcher, but at least when you were throwing almost everyone’s attention was focused on the person holding the bat.  Now you were the centre of attention. 

You push yourself up from the bench, forcing a smile as your little Abbott family cheers you on.  You hesitate at the edge of the pitch, however, nervous to step up to the plate.  Taking a deep breath, you’re about to take your place when you feel warm hands settle on your hips and get a whiff of familiar perfume as Melissa nuzzles into your temple. 

“You okay, babe?”

“Just nervous,” you admit.  The scores are close and Melissa’s mood has been tempestuous to say the least. 

“What you got to be nervous about?” she asks.  “You got this.”

Feeling her press closer to you, you find your forced smile settle into a more natural expression.  She sways her hips behind you, moving your with her as her hands stroke down your arms, finally settling the bat into your grasp.

“Just remember all the lessons I gave you and you’ll be fine.”

You chuckle.  Those lessons were imprinted in your mind.  You’d never found baseball attractive until it meant that Melissa Schemmenti was pressed  tightly against you as she guided you in the how to achieve the perfect swing. 

She presses a kiss to your cheek and gives you a final smack on the rear as you head for the head for the home plate.  “You got this!” she calls after you, a wide smile on her face. 

Settling yourself on the home plate, you raise the bat, eyes on the pitcher as you wait.

“You better hit this,” comes a voice from behind you.  “Because she’s going to kills us if you strike out.”

You can’t help but grin.  “You’re not scared of Ms Schemmenti are you?”

“You kidding?  You and Barbara Howard are the only two people here who aren’t!”

*

You grin as Melissa comes back to the table bearing pitchers of drinks for everyone.  Her mood has improved drastically since your team won thanks in no small part to a fantastic hit from Ava that sent the other team scrambling and some impressive sprinting from Janine. 

She slides in next to you, a possessive arm finding its way around your shoulders.  It never fails to make you feel warm inside, that she is so open in her affection towards you.  She is never shy letting her actions proudly declare you as hers.  “You were great out there,” she tells you.  “Look pretty hot in team colours, too.”

“This from the sexiest woman on the pitch?”  What else were you meant to say? You’d have to be blind not to see how the softball uniform clung to her hips and showcased her delicious curves.

“What can I say, winning looks good on me.”