#if you ever doubt yourself again I’m gonna fucking bop you wtf

[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.

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