Well, if no one else is going to write exactly what I desire...
@another-supernova-girl
COMPLETE MASTERLIST / MY HARTNETT MASTERLIST / AO3 / BLANK BLOGS GET BLOCKED / * I DO NOT WRITE REQUESTS * / 30's / bi cis she/her / *Josh Hartnett only* side blog
I AM PLANNING ON GOING ON A MAJOR HIATUS IN ABOUT 24 HOURS, SO IF YOU HAVE ANYTHING NICE TO SAY ABOUT MY WRITING, OR ANY OTHER KIND SENTIMENTS, OR WHATEVER ELSE, NOW IS THE TIME TO SHARE THEM WITH ME.
I'm sorry that the stories I thought I could get written probably won't happen, but I feel that I have contributed quite a bit to the Josh Hartnett fandom, and hopefully it's been enough.
So...I was devoid of writing inclination for most of the weekend, and only managed to get a little written of the David fic last night, and I ended up borrowing from a plot idea of mine from years ago that I never actually utilized.
It's still going to feature my initial themes and plot I had planned for him, but it's going to end up fairly dark by the end. Like, not dark in the way you might think, considering David's various behavior in his Black Mirror episode - as in not murderous or sexual assault related. However, there are going to be self-harm themes (not descriptive, and not actions taking place within the actual text) that are definitely not for everyone. So, if it's not for you, that's totally okay. I'm not going dark with the Kip Conley fic, or the Cooper x OC or reader (tbd) x Lucas fic, so there will be things in those to enjoy without need of warnings. Honestly, I would prefer to keep the content of the David story a complete surprise, but I don't want to trigger anyone inadvertently, so...well, there it is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
If I do end up writing something for David Ross ('Black Mirror : Beyond the Sea' AU), where instead of his family being murdered, his wife has left him because she can't cope, and while he's being relocated to a new home on Earth, his Replica gets upgraded with increased senses - like taste and touch. As he's out exploring his new surroundings, he decides to thoroughly evaluate his freshly enhanced senses by testing out a local bakery with a penchant for out-of-this-world treats, where the astronaut living on earth in an artificial body becomes enamored with the cute, space-enthusiast confectioner behind the counter.
*Looking over at my currently lit candle while I'm supposed to be prepping for my Inherit the Viper fic that I should have written and posted yesterday that only one or two people are likely to read anyway*
Oh, yeah, I never did do anything with that fic idea I have for this predatory fucker.
Literal film dialogue by Josh Hartnett's character : "Waitin'. Ain'tcha never waited for nuttin' before?"
They really went full-on fucking white trash with this movie. I love my mutual, but I can also see why this is the director's first and currently only full-length film. I'm really going to have to stretch my dialogue muscles for this one. But I'm still going to try. And more than 2 people better fucking read it, damnit. I'm sick of writing into the void.
Hartnett Ficlet 1 of 13 (hopefully), a post-"AEIC Epilogue" side story. My gif.
AEIC MASTERLIST JOSH HARTNETT MASTERLIST
(( word count ~ 1,600 ))
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< I just passed state lines > Cooper texted from the driver seat of his Midnight Black SUV, pulled over on the shoulder of a mostly empty highway, the back of a 'Welcome to...' sign visible in the rear-view mirror. It was nearly two in the morning, and he knew he had a few more hours of drive time in front of him, but he liked to keep her updated when he was out of town. As usual, it was the disposal of his latest victim that had taken him away from her, Cooper seeking out burial sights with increasing distance from his home to avoid the bodies being tracked back to him. He finally had a life he cared about, awaiting him over a hundred miles away, and he had taken to putting as many miles as he reasonably could between himself and the corpses he left behind, in an effort to hinder suspicions from potential investigators. A few minutes of silence passed as he sat in his stationary vehicle, the motor running, before the screen of his phone displayed a new message.
< I'm at your place > he read, smiling faintly as he began to type a response.
< I know > he answered, and the young woman on the other end of the conversation glanced at the phone in her hand that she hadn't bothered to place back on the side table yet.
“I know you know,” Delilah mumbled to herself, fully aware of the tracking device he'd slipped between her phone and its case, months before, but a soft smile still pulled at her lips as she tapped out an answer.
< Drive safe > she responded simply, too sleepy to type much else, and with a yawn, and the bleary eyes that accompanied it, she placed her phone back on the table and drifted quickly back to sleep.
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The closing of the briefly opened front door stirred Delilah from her sleep upon the king size mattress in Cooper's bedroom, but she barely opened her drowsy eyes, listening to the house's owner as he moved around in the living room and kitchen, his burial kit already put away in his built-in hiding space in the garage. She was grateful that he didn't turn the overhead light on as he entered the bedroom, leaving the door open behind himself, and crossing to the bed his girlfriend lie naked upon, blankets up to her shoulder.
“I know you're awake,” he whispered as he squatted down, his face screwing up in mild discomfort from the
ache in his knees as he leaned against the edge of the bed.
“Mmm,” Delilah answered, wordlessly, sleepy eyes glancing his way, a faint smile on her lips as she observed him.
“Should I let you go back to sleep?” Cooper whispered, reaching out to brush sleep-mussed hair away from her features, and she shook her head slightly, closing her eyes when he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead, her smile still in place. “No?”
“I can stay up,” Delilah mumbled, her blinks slow as she observed him in the faint light spilling in from beyond the open bedroom door.
“You don't have to,” he answered, but the soft smile across his lips silently assured her that he appreciated the offer.
“Go get your shower...I'm not going anywhere,” she whispered, her eyes sliding closed again, lightly squeezing Cooper's hand when he reached for her own to grasp it gently, running his thumb over her knuckles.
“Okay,” he returned, flinching slightly when he rose back up to full height, leaving the door open as he departed.
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It was nearly five, just a few hours until sunrise, by the time Delilah felt the sheets and comforter shift, the weight of Cooper depressing the mattress as his freshly cleansed body slid in beside her, his large frame dwarfing her smaller body as his front met her back. Without the slightest hint of hesitation, she nestled closer to his body, more than content to be his 'little spoon' as he placed his arm around her waist, his fingers splayed against her stomach, and naturally drifting down her side, toward her hip, his fingertips meeting something that was neither fabric nor bare skin. It felt more...plastic-y.
“What the hell?” he mumbled as he reached back up toward the top edge of the blankets, and dragged them down both of their bodies until only their lower legs were covered, his fingers wandering back up her thigh. “Baby, what did you...” he mumbled, Delilah continuing to face away from him even as he flopped onto his back to reach for his phone on the side table furthest from them both, and activate the flashlight function. He'd expected an opaque bandage, but was instead met with a layer of transparent, adhesive film. “When did this happen?” Cooper questioned calmly as he traced the edge of the clear substance, avoiding the inked art in the middle.
“A couple hours after you left town,” she answered in a faint, relaxed tone, finally glancing down at the inch-wide permanent art decorating her skin that held his attention. There was a bit of displaced ink from the very fresh tattoo trapped in place beneath the film, but Cooper could still make out the tiny piece of art, etched onto her outer thigh : a tiny butcher's knife. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” Delilah whispered as she shifted her gaze to Cooper's umber eyes that continued to stare at the tiny, black outline.
“I'm...surprised,” he admitted, lifting up to a sitting position so he could hold his phone and touch the surrounding barrier at the same time, Delilah's green eyes trained on his features. “Who, uh...who did it?” he questioned, his tone casual, his query not so much.
“A female artist,” she answered, and he glanced back up to her eyes, and her quirked brow, and he nodded, his gaze as strangely distant as it had been in the moments before he had ended his newest victim's life, days before.
“Is that your subtle way of calling me insecure?” he questioned, and she immediately shook her head.
“No, it's me acknowledging your jealous streak,” she clarified, shifting from her side to her back as she considered him.
“...That's very distracting,” he mumbled as his view shifted from the patch on her outer thigh to the unobscured nudity beyond it.
“So...do you like it?” she finally asked as his callous-roughened fingers began to explore the bareness of her flesh, wandering over her thighs, the concave dip of her stomach, along the length of her arm, purposely avoiding anything too stimulating. He knew full well that he'd end up forgetting himself and hurting her already tender skin in his lustful explorations if he allowed himself to take real comfort in her. “Cooper?”
“Hmm?” he acknowledged, wordlessly, and she smiled faintly as she watched him trace invisible lines over her skin.
“Do you like it?” she repeated, and he glanced back up to her eyes.
“I do,” he admitted, a genuine smile tugging at his mouth as he leaned over her to press a soft kiss against her softer lips. “Maybe I should get a little book inked on me,” he mused aloud, and she let out a sigh.
“You think I'm gonna work in a failing mall book store forever?” she mumbled as she reached up to run her fingers through his silky chestnut hair.
“Probably not,” he conceded as he tilted his head to receive more of her careful touch. “How about a...little white tee shirt,” he proposed instead, and she groaned in answer when he started to hum off-key the familiar song of her unintentional namesake that occasionally haunted her.
“Please, no...anything but that,” she huffed as she reached for his pillow to playfully smack him with it, her wrist immediately captured in his large hand as he pressed it gently to the bed, leaning over her again to steal another kiss.
“I'll just have to come up with something else, then,” he confirmed, briefly parting from her to put his phone away, and pressing his weight into his elbow as he leaned in to seek out her lips, once again.
“Cooper?” she whispered when he was barely an inch away, gazing at her features through eyes quickly adjusting to the dim light that shown through the crack of the slightly opened bedroom door.
“Yes, baby?” he returned as his hand rose to brush stray strands of auburn away from her face.
“Tell me something true,” Delilah mumbled, her own eyes adjusted enough to see the quirk in Cooper's brow as he stared down at her in mild confusion.
After a few moments of consideration, he answered honestly, in a soft but decisive tone, “I missed you.”
Delilah nodded slightly in acceptance of the admission as she lifted a hand to guide his damp hair back, away from his eyes, watching her boyfriend studiously as he lie back down, more flush to the fitted sheet, and the mattress beneath. “I missed you, too,” she confessed as she adjusted her body onto her unmarked side, Cooper's larger frame drawing her back flush to his chest as he settled against the bed. “Cooper?” she asked again, and his answer was a sleepy sigh as he nuzzled in closer, his arm draping over her waist, careful to avoid her painful patch of fresh ink. “Lie to me.”
The Butcher was quiet for a few seconds as he contemplated her request, pursing his lips as he drew her even closer, felt the minute space that separated their bodies disappear, and hoped that the genuine care he felt for her was enough to satisfy her. “I love you.”
The New Normal ( Part 3 ) - Sabotage : Cooper Adams/Abbott x Fem Reader *NSFW*
I consider this the finale of this story. I know barely anyone is reading for Cooper anymore, but I wanted to finish all my multi-chapter WIPs for him, and Josh Hartnett, and although I was too burned out to make this chapter as expansive at I initially intended, I'm still happy with it. (my gif)
This is NSFW, and contains consensual sexual content ( NO Daddy Kink, NO Breeding Kink, and NO Degradation Kink )
CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 JOSH HARTNETT MASTERLIST
(( word count ~ 3,100 ))
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She should have seen it coming. Cooper was so damn particular about the linens, and how they should be placed – just as he was about so many other things around the home – that when he suggested she make the bed, red flags should have shot up immediately. Hunched down toward the mattress, digging for the clips that held the fitted sheet in place at the corner, she'd felt the memory foam surface below her shift only seconds before he was on top of her, his chest against her back through the shirts they wore, hands at her wrists.
“Do you trust me?” he whispered against her throat as his large fingers weaved between her slimmer digits, his body spooning hers from above. Her mumbled 'yes' was barely audible as she nodded her head slightly, felt his fingers at her wrists again, and up the length of her arms, sitting up to carefully straddle her as he found the edge of her shirt, and pushed the material up her back. She lie still, her cheek against the sheet below her, as his large hands unfastened her bra, and guided it with her shirt off of her torso, down her arms until he reached her wrists again. Chest naked and smooshed against the linens below her, she watched Cooper's hands as they managed to turn her shirt and bra into makeshift restraints, securing her wrists to the freshly installed headboard of his bed, only just delivered to his new house that morning. Seconds later, she heard a soft whump as his own shirt hit the floor, and she felt the warmth of his equally naked body against her back, enjoying the warmth of his skin against her own.
Shifting his weight to his forearm that he pressed into the mattress, Cooper's free hand reached for her wrists, testing her bindings with a light tug. His fingers began to trace along her skin, back up her arm and to her shoulder, sliding around to grasp gently at her breasts when she pressed her back more flush to his chest. “Maybe I should've splurged on the four-poster,” he murmured as he leaned over her, his chestnut hair tickling her skin as he hovered, his hand splaying across her stomach as his fingers traveled further down her body. “Wrists and ankles tied down...free to do as I please,” he continued, and she arched against him as his fingers unbuttoned her jeans and tugged the zipper down, and his hand cupped her through the panties she wore.
“You can-mmph...,” she began, and pushed out a sigh instead as he grasped the stretchy material in his hand, dragged the scrunched up fabric along and between her folds.
“I can what?” he breathed as her hips shuddered below him, ghosting his fingertips along her exposed flesh.
“ You can do...whatever you want,” she mumbled as his hand cupped her again, fingers meeting skin and cloth.
“Whatever I want,” he repeated, pushing the fabric aside to slide an inquisitive finger along the slick, parted folds, her hips rocking slowly, back and forth, guiding him from her clit, and reversing so his fingertip slipped just an inch or so inside, and back again. “And what if I just wanna tease you?”
“I think we both kn-nnph...” she began, but her words quickly devolved into incoherent noises again as he finally eased two fingers inside her, stroking at her walls from the inside as she ground her ass against his crotch through the layers of denim that separated them. “You're not...mmm, you're a...a lot of things,” she sighed out as his fingers worked her insides, “but you're not a tease.”
“No?” he answered as he withdrew his fingers, and pressed himself up from the bed to grip the waist of her jeans and panties with both hands, and tug them over her rear, down her legs, and onto the floor. “You don't think I'd just...tie you up, and...watch you squirm,” he suggested as he leaned over her again, pressing her hips back against the mattress with his own, the entirety of her body naked and exposed beneath him, his warm breath on the nape of her neck as he pushed her hair to one side. To his question, she shook her head as best she could, her nose brushing against the sheets as she lay her cheek against the soft surface below.
“Unn-uh,” she mumbled in disagreement as his lips brushed the sensitive hollow behind her earlobe, and along the side of her throat. “Honestly, I...,” she began, and let out another sigh as he began a damp line of kisses along her shoulder blade and toward her spine, inching down the length of her back.
“Honestly you what, sweetheart,” he whispered against her skin as he grasped her hips, got on his knees as he guided her up on her own knees, her upper body still flush to the bed.
“I think you...you take a little too much pride in...in getting me off,” her words were staggered as Cooper denied her the ability to articulate her thoughts, dragging wordless noises from her as he settled behind her raised lower half, placing more kisses along the backs of her thighs.
“You think I take too much pride in pleasing you?” he queried, even as he distracted her with the scruff of his cheek against her bare flesh.
“Too much to let me lay here, unfulfilled,” she explained, and he let out a soft grunt as he gripped her hips and brushed his whiskers at the junction of her thighs, her rear lifting more in the air, her legs parting wider in needy submission.
She wasn't wrong. He did take pride in the effect he had on her. Her shudders, her whimpers and sighs, the way she melted for him, and how he never had to wonder if he'd successfully made her cum. With the monster inside bent on causing dread, it made Cooper feel a little more human, the way he was able to cause her to willingly surrender to him, and be rewarded with ecstasy instead of agony.
“Is that what you want, sweetheart? You want me to fulfill you?” Cooper whispered as he drew even closer, pressing kisses against the backs of her thighs as her hips shifted to get his mouth where she craved it most. Her answer was an inarticulate sigh, hips adjusting more, impatient. And even more impatient when a cell phone on the dresser sounded with a notification, the furious pounding of a frustrated knock on the house's front door.
“Nooo,” Cooper's girlfriend whined out as he gave her rear a squeeze and crept off the bed, picking up the electronic device and tapping the screen, his shoulders falling as he saw a pair of faces. “Who is it?” she questioned with a sigh as she stared, tied up, at her partner.
A deeper sigh pushed out of Cooper as he stepped around the bed to the side where her wrists were fastened, and began to work at her makeshift bindings, “Riley and Rachel.”
“I thought you had her last weekend,” his girlfriend posited, and he nodded as he freed her hands from the bra straps, enough to loose her restraints.
“ I did,” he sighed, and deciding she could manage to take care of straightening up herself and the bed, he snatched up his shirt to pull it back on, and locked the room from the inside and departed it. As she tried to straighten out her bra to slip it on, she heard his booming voice at the other end of the hallway, welcoming Riley and acknowledging Rachel. It was clear that they were speeding toward a full-on fight by the time the young woman slipped out of the room, Cooper's hoodie wrapped around her arms and torso.
As she approached the trio, she noticed Riley's troubled gaze shift to her, and away again, Cooper's back to her where he argued with Rachel.
“I'll just get out-,” she started, immediately cut off by Cooper, as he stared his ex-wife in the eyes.
“No you won't , you'll stay...Rachel obviously didn't have a problem bringing Riley hear with your car in the driveway. She obviously doesn't mind you being around our daughter,” Cooper thought aloud, watching the annoyance rise on Rachel's face.
Stepping slightly closer and placing her hand on Cooper's shoulder, whispering as quietly as she could, “If you make a scene in front of Riley, it's just going to make things worse.”
Cooper was quiet for a few moments as he considered her, and asked Riley instead if she'd like to stay over with his girlfriend there. To everyone's surprise, Riley – after a few moments of considerate thought, made clear that she would.
* * *
“I wondered where you disappeared to,” Cooper mumbled as he entered his bedroom, having helped Riley get settled in, Logan already at a friend's house for a sleepover, the Butcher finally noticing his girlfriend not in sight.
“Yeah, sorry, I just, uh...I had a lot of breathing to do...like really deep breathing,” she explained, sitting on the floor and holding his hoodie in her arms, having taken the time to put back on her shirt that was too tied up to pull on before her first venture out. “I think I had a little bit of a panic attack,” she added.
“Baby, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have dragged you into that...I'm just so tired of her pulling this-”
“Cooper, it's okay, I'm....I'm okay...I just needed a minute,” she sighed out between still-recovering breaths, accepting the Butcher's hand when he offered it to her, letting him pull her back up to her feet.
“I didn't...I didn't mean to upset you so much,” he lamented, running his fingers through the ponytail that she'd worked her hair into after its messiness from the bed.
“No, it wasn't you. I'm don't even think it was Rachel, but I just...I know you try to put on a good show for your kids, and be the best dad you can with half the hours you used to,” she explained, her temple against his shoulder as he held her secure in his embrace. “I don't wanna mess up your progress, or end up driving a bigger wedge...”
Cooper's umber gaze took in her flushed face, and her untidy presentation, and her fingers that gripped his shirt, and he gently raised a hand to her jaw and drew her nearer. Her sounds of appreciation were fainter than usual with the extra company in the house, and Cooper ghosted his digits up and down her bare arms. “I don't think there's anything you could do to make it worse if you tried,” the divorcee acknowledged. “She already thinks we cheated-”
“But we didn't,” she spoke up suddenly, and he let out a sigh as he pushed his own hair out of his face.
“Of course we didn't, but...I don't think there's anything that'll convince her that she assumed wrong,” he admitted, and both glanced back at the door to the bedroom at the sound of a faint thump against one of the walls. “Come on, let's just...make the most of it. Maybe Riley can...actually get to know you, without Rachel over her shoulder, and in her ear.”
“It's a start,” the young woman sighed as her hands brushed his chest through his shirt, trying to press away the wrinkles. “Why don't you go out there, and, uh...introduce yourself, properly,” Cooper encouraged, shifting uncomfortably his hips.
“I guess you ended up teasing me, after all,” she acknowledged in a soft voice, glancing down at Cooper's jeans and the faint bulge, his cock briefly encouraged back to life from their embrace.
“I'll make it up to you,” he assured, his gaze following her movements as she opened the door and stepped out of the room. When she saw a wavy mop of blonde hair she paused in her steps for a few seconds, finally pressing the door closed after her without speaking a word to alert Cooper to his daughter's presumable eavesdropping.
* * *
“So, is there anything you wanna ask me,” the young woman questioned her boyfriend's middle school-aged daughter. It had been clear from Riley's expression when her dad's girlfriend had left his bedroom, that she had heard something significant, though she had almost immediately faked a need to use the nearby bathroom instead of saying a word, and both of them were out of sight by the time Cooper exited his room.
Riley looked up at the near-stranger who she had heard only second-hand knowledge of, knowledge that she questioned inside the span of her two minutes outside her dad's bedroom. “Did...did you and my dad, really...do what my mom says you did?” she finally managed, and the young woman did her best to not dodge her gaze like all her instincts insisted.
“Your mom...I know she thinks your dad cheated on her with me, and she has a right to be angry about that, and I know she doesn't know it's not true, but...she's wrong. I know it all looks bad, but the truth is...,” she took a deeper breath, closed her eyes, tried not to think about the short hyperventilating session she'd had in the last hour in Cooper's bedroom.
“Yeah, the truth,” Riley implored as she and the young woman made up her bed atop the brand new mattress that had come in with Cooper's new headboard.
“The truth is...I did like your dad when he and your mom were still together, but...nothing happened until after your parents divorced. Honestly, he barely even knew I existed until after he got an apartment.
“So...why did they break up...if he didn't cheat?” Riley questioned, and the young woman pursed her lips. Obviously saying 'Cooper accepted a divorce to throw her off the trail of his butchery' would not achieve any kind of positive reaction. She had even planned on talking to Cooper precisely about his cover story for the end of his marriage, but she'd put it off too long.
“Riley, I...I don't know, but...whatever made Rach-...your mom think he was cheating, there probably wasn't any hope of convincing her otherwise. Once the trust is gone, I guess...everything else goes, too,” she tried to explain, wondering how foolish she looked in her attempt to lie to a twelve-year-old.
“Are your mom and dad still together?” Riley asked suddenly, and the young woman paused a moment, before placing the newly cased pillow in its proper place.
“No, uh...I never met my dad,” she admitted with a shake of her head. “He bounced before I was born, and he never tried to be in my life, or even contact me...”
Riley was silent for a moment before she spoke again, the mildly accusatory tone that had presented in her voice, virtually gone. “I'm sorry, I didn't-” she began, but the young woman was quick to dismiss.
“No, it's fine, actually. I, uh...I don't really think about it, or him, at all. But...not all dads are like that. And honestly, your dad, he...he really loves you guys, you and your brother...even though he doesn't get to see you two as much, he...you're basically his world,” the young woman explained, as the two of them went to work, dragging the duvet cover over Riley's new comforter, the Butcher in the hallway just out of sight, listening to all that was said between the most important girls in his life, supper in the form of a frozen pizza in the oven, cooking away for dinner.
* * *
To Cooper and his girlfriend's relief, and likely to Rachel's future annoyance, the evening played out far more civil than either had expected, basically ending with the three of them on the sofas in the living room, watching something that Cooper learned was called a “DCOM”, both ladies drifting to sleep long before the credits rolled.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Cooper whispered as he leaned over the plush furniture to his paramour, “Let's get to bed.” He was answered with only unintelligible noise, and he leaned closer to brush his scruff over her clavicle and cheek.
“Too sleepy,” she mumbled as he crouched down to his knees, knowing his joints would cause him flinch-worthy pain when he stood up straight again. “Can't move,” the young woman murmured.
“Come on, baby, the bed's more comfortable,” he encouraged, but she shook her head slightly in dissent.
“If we're alone behind closed doors,” she gently reminded, eyes still closed, “we might not be able to keep it PG...and your daughter's had a rough enough day.”
Cooper was silent as he studied her features, a faint smile on his lips as he stroked her cheek and temple, watched as her eyes finally fluttered open. “I know you were nervous, but...I'm proud of you,” he whispered, finally resorting to sitting, cross-legged on the floor.
“Proud,” the young woman repeated, her forehead mildly wrinkling in confusion.
“You handled everything really well, even...even doing everything you could to not call Rachel a liar-”
“So you were eavesdropping,” she accused, even as she kept her eyes closed, content to lie next to Cooper as he gently praised her.
“The point,” Cooper deflected, brushing hair away from her closed eyes, “is that it meant a lot to me...and you mean a lot to me too.”
The whisper of something akin to Thank you met Cooper's ears as he began to succumbed to his own drowsiness, undressing enough to be presentable at a breakfast table, but comfortable enough to sleep, and he finally joined his girlfriend on the couch, where she immediately melded to the shape of his embrace.
“Sweetheart,” Cooper whispered as his own body relaxed against the extra-wide sofa below them, spooning her from behind as they both lay with their backs toward the wall.
“Hmm?” was all the groggy answer he received.
“I hope you know you're more to me than just the physical stuff,” he assured, and she nodded faintly against him where he practically cradled her.
“And you know I love you?” he rasped, tucking his face in her mussed hair.
“I know,” she breathed, stroking his fingers where their hands met. “I think that's the first time you've even actually said that to me,” she continued, Cooper's physical hold on her tightening almost imperceptibly, “But, I know.”
“And?” Cooper asked after she ceased to say anything more, scraping at the back of her ear with his whiskers.
“And it's nice to hear you say it...'cause I love you too.”
Bleed American - Wyatt Walker ("Ida Red" 2021) x Fem OC
* Part 3 : Sugar * (final chapter)
A/N : I don't know...it's the final chapter, that's it. Pretty sure I'm literally the only person who has uploaded Wyatt Walker fics to the internet (at least to A03). Also, I feel a pattern has emerged of me writing self indulgent fics with very self-insert OC's who are rescued from their unfulfilling lives by beautiful, affectionate men. Ya girl is depressed as hell. (my gif)
Warnings for : very brief consensual sexual content, and some angst with a happy/hopeful ending
CHAPTER 1 : SALT CHAPTER 2 : SWEAT
HARTNETT MASTERLIST
(( word count ~ 2,900 ))
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It had been nearly four months since Lex and Wyatt had met, that first uncomfortable to confusing night. It had been about three since their first night together in her cheap motel room, and a pattern had developed. Every week or two, Wyatt would happen to show up to one of her local shows – local to her or himself – and they would go through the brief awkward stage of “How've you been?” and “What are you doin', tonight?”. Without fail, they always managed to end up in bed together, always parting with long embraces the next morning, and the conversation would pick up for a few days right after, and then fade again. And every time the conversation would dry up, it was Lex who would cease to respond in a timely manner, Wyatt questioning what held her back, over and over again. He had his theories, the competing top two being his criminal history, and the distance. Mentions of his unlawfulness were rarely hinted at, and never openly discussed, but as time went on, he began to suspect she'd read up on his exploits.
His suspicions, however, leaned heavier on the side of the distance between them, more than any other plausible reason. It had been as recent as the last time she'd played a show in his area, that he had brought up the distance, and he'd ended up snapping, not at her, rather at the situation, though she had felt attacked nonetheless. At the mention of her band experiencing two different line-up changes in the last three times he'd seen her, he'd suggested she could always leave as well. “You change guitarists more often than you change the oil in your car...which isn't nearly enough, by the-”
"Wyatt, I didn't come here for an automotive lecture-"
“Then why did you come?” he'd snapped, Lex standing in the middle of his living room while he hunched over on the couch, staring at him, mouth slightly ajar before she pursed her lips tight, her head shaking a subtle, silent 'no' as she started to take steps backward. “Lex, I...fuck, I didn't mean to say it like that, I just...Alexandria,” he huffed as she made steps toward the door, Wyatt nearly reaching out to catch her arm, his hand freezing in midair. Taking a deep breath instead, and letting it out, he calmly followed her out the front entrance. She was halfway down the drive before he spoke up again, and she paused in her footsteps, glancing back over her shoulder. Wyatt was relieved to see her feet come to a stop, hesitant to let his own take him a step further. “Lex...I ain't tryin' to attack you, or nothin', I just...”
“I know-”
“No, I'm not sure you do,” he cut her off, and before she could utter another word, he reached toward her and dragged her body into his arms, his cheek against her teal hair. Her hands gripped lightly at the bottom of his button-down as he continued. “Whenever you're here with me, or I'm somewhere else with you, it's great, it's amazin', it's...I feel like I never want you to go...and when we go our separate ways, it's like...it's like you disappear. And I don't know what I'm doin' wrong, or-”
“You're not, you're...it's not you-”
“Then what is it? What do I gotta do to...” his words fell away as she clung to his shirt, gripping tight the woven fabric as his arms became more lax around her, and at the same time drawing her more flush to him as he felt his shirt grow damp where she hid her face against his chest.
🎶🎵🎶
“I think your boyfriend's here,” Lex heard her bandmate whisper as he leaned in to grab a water bottle where Lex crouched, behind the curtain of the stage.
“He's not my boyf-” she began to mutter back, immediately cut off by the group's current lead guitarist.
“Does he know that?” he asked, before disappearing back through the curtain.
Nearly three weeks had passed since the last time they'd seen each other, frustrated and holding each other in the middle of his driveway, and just over a week since they'd spoken. Dozens of times, both of them had started to type out a message, but neither had committed to sending them through, and so silence had defined their relationship for nearly eight days. And Wyatt was at the end of his tether of self control, of keeping his distance. And when Lex peered out beyond the curtain, she found him with his back to her, leaning against the stage. Waiting.
“I just wanna talk,” Wyatt spoke, his face still turned away from her, before she could disappear behind the walls of heavy fabric again. “It doesn't have to be at wherever you're stayin'-”
“I didn't get a room,” Lex cut in, and the Tulsa local glanced back over his shoulder at her, seeing her face in person for the first time in what felt like months. “I'm going home toni-”
“Alexandria, please,” he uttered, his whole body turning to face the stage as she crouched down between the twin curtains. “Don't run off and leave me, again,” he implored, brushing his chestnut hair back and dropping the sunglasses he'd worn into his shirt pocket. His hand reached out for hers just as she heard her name being called from the hidden side of the curtain. “Please,” Wyatt pressed, stroking her knuckles as her fingers curled reflexively around his.
“Wyatt, I've gotta-”
“Let me take you out to dinner, or somethin',” he insisted, and her gaze drifted from the small crowd beyond them, to the man clutching her hand like she'd vanish before his eyes, should he let go.
“I...okay, dinner, but that's-”
“I'll wait for you,” Wyatt cut in as the curtain began to shift around her, the rest of her band making their last adjustments before the huge pieces of fabric were split apart.
🎶🎵🎶
“Well, this feels familiar,” Wyatt mumbled as he stepped through the back door beyond the stage of the band's venue for the night, the sprinkling that had just started when he'd walked in the front door that night long transformed into pouring rain, accompanied by the cracking of thunder in the distance, the booming noises becoming more frequent by the minute.
“Yeah,” Lex mumbled as she stepped out behind him, the two of them only just covered by the overhang of the roof above.
“You still gonna let me take you to dinner?” he queried as he looked behind himself, grasping her hand as she slipped it into his, breathing in the scent of his deodorant and body wash, a combination of citrus and something botanical.
“Why don't we just get something and take it home,” Lex mumbled and Wyatt began to fish around in his pockets for his keys. “To your home...obviously,” she corrected when she noticed him pause briefly in his movements.
“Obviously,” Wyatt repeated, taking in a breath as he loosed her hand from his, bringing the back of it up to his lips to press a gentle kiss to it, before hopping off the concrete stairs and darting through the parking lot to pull his truck around. By the time he circled back in the dry comfort of his Chevy, she'd stepped inside and back out again, testing the lock on her car with her key remote from a distance, and climbing up into the passenger seat of the pickup when Wyatt pushed the door open from inside.
🎶🎵🎶
The ride to the take-out restaurant, and on to his house, stayed mostly quiet, neither quite ready to open up and speak their minds, as if each were waiting on the other to break the silence. Only the sounds of rain, thunder, and lighter than usual traffic met their ears on the way to his front door, after they'd collected their food. To neither one's surprise, it was Wyatt who spoke up first.
“So, are we gonna talk about this?” he finally asked as he sat down on the lone upholstered chair, by the corner of the sofa where Lex sat with her bare feet up and legs crossed beneath her. “I know you can't be that mad at me-”
“I'm not,” she breathed out as she leaned forward, staring at an invisible spot on the floor. “I'm not mad at you. It's not...I'm not mad,” Lex finally mumbled, and Wyatt let out a groan as he stretched his legs out, his shoes on the ottoman before him.
“Well, you ain't happy,” he noted, and she shrugged slightly. “Sweetheart, I don't know what I did, or-”
“You didn't,” Lex interrupted, lying her head against the ancient stuffing of the couch cushions, watching Wyatt as he climbed out of his chair to sit at the closest end of his couch, opposite his guest.
“So tell me what's going on, up in that over-thinkin' brain of yours, then,” Wyatt prodded, reaching a hand out to give her knee a gentle squeeze before relaxing his back against the upholstered corner. “ 'Cause we seem to have a nice time, every time you're here, and then you leave and I don't know what happens, but you...you go all quiet and cold on me.” When she parted her lips to speak, and closed them again without a word, Wyatt spoke up again, “Is it my record?”
Not even feigning surprise, Lex glanced back up at him, shifting in her chosen spot and leaning her temple against the worn, woven fabric. “No, it's not that,” she confirmed.
“I mean, I don't know how much you know, but-”
“I know about as much as your criminal background check turned up,” she clarified, and he nodded slightly. “Now, if you had a record like Dallas, that would absolutely be part of the problem-”
“So, there is a problem,” Wyatt suggested, and the young woman on his couch glanced his way again before she shifted her gaze elsewhere.
“I just...There's almost a hundred miles between us, and-”
“There ain't but five feet between...us,” Wyatt began to retort, staring on at her figure, shrouded in shadow as the power flicked off and on for a few seconds.
“You know what I...,” she began, but a sigh finally escaped her instead as the power flickered again, the lights around them and the air conditioner going dark, and quiet, and not resuming their function. Just like half the houses on the street, Wyatt noticed, as he leaned toward the wall, and glanced out the window. “Great,” Lex mumbled.
After a few more seconds of silence, Wyatt took in an audible breath, and pushed it out again. He reached out to grasp Lex's hand, manipulating her body as he drew her closer, not ceasing in his silent direction until he'd successfully pulled her between his parted thighs, with her back to his chest on his side of the couch. “Maybe not being able to look at me will help,” he mumbled as he encircled her with his arms. “Now that there ain't but an inch between us...Let's here it, baby doll.”
“...I just...” she began, shifting her body in his embrace so her shoulder and temple lay against his chest, her knees bent and raised closer to her torso, as if she were trying to make herself even smaller than she normally was. “I've done the whole-long distance thing before, and-”
“It ain't that long a-”
“Do you want me to talk, or not?” she huffed, and Wyatt pursed his lips, placing the palm of his hand against the damp denim of her jean-clad thigh. “I've tried the long distance relationship thing before, multiple times, and it never...it always...I just don't wanna get invested in something that I know is gonna...fall apart,” she finally managed, her voice becoming less stable as she spoke, the breath she took in at the end deep and shuddering.
“It doesn't have to fall apart, if we don't let it,” Wyatt finally answered when he was sure she'd reached the end of her explanation. “And if it's the distance that bothers you so much...maybe we should do somethin' about it,” he suggested.
“Like what?” Lex mumbled against his shirt, content to lie in the embrace of his arms as he cradled her body to his.
“Like...you movin' up here,” he offered, and Lex released a noisy sigh as she glanced up at him.
“I can't just move up here,” she stated, not as firmly as she intended, and Wyatt placed his chin against her crown as his hand swept gently, back and forth, over her outer thigh.
“What's keepin' you there,” Wyatt asked, and a few thoughtful seconds passed before Lex parted her lips to speak.
“I've got my job-”
“That you hate,” Wyatt interrupted, and she let out a sigh as she glanced up at him, again. “Well, you do. You've made that real clear. What else?”
“My...well, my band, obviously-”
“Completely made up of different people, except for yourself, than it was the night we met...You really think there ain't any local bands around here in need of a drummer, or a bassist?”
“I guess...but I can't just up and move without a new job lined up, or-”
“Darlin', I know it don't exactly show, just lookin' around, but...I promise you, I live way below my means...there's a lot of money that ain't never been recovered from my...well, my run-ins with the law,” he explained, as vague as he could manage. “We can find you a little place, or you can move in here with me...can't imagine you're gonna run up my bills more than I can handle.”
“So that's your plan for me? Turn me into some kinda..'kept woman',” she queried, though Wyatt was relieved to here a bit of warmth return to her voice.
“Long as you're my woman, you can do as you please,” he insisted, lifting his free hand to brush strands of teal out of her face. When she parted her lips to speak, but ended up softly frowning instead, he spoke up again, “You don't gotta decide tonight...just promise me you'll think on it.”
“...Okay,” she finally mumbled, turning her face back to his chest, his arms wrapping around her shoulders as she lie against him. His own eyes fell closed as a more comfortable silence emerged around them, the storms outside raging, Lex seeming to practically dissolve against the heat of Wyatt's body.
“I also think you oughta stay the night,” the man breathed, barely audible, receiving his answer in the nod of affirmation against his damp shirt, Lex letting out the tiniest noise of agreement.
🎶🎵🎶
The lights, and everything else electronic, were still out of commission by the time Wyatt stirred from his nap on the sofa, a glance at his watch confirming he'd only been out a few hours. It took a moment to recall what he was doing on the couch in the first place, and with the briefest moment of panic, he sat up from his position of leisure to find himself alone in the living room, a small breath of relief leaving him when he heard the water faucet activate from down the hall, in the bathroom. A few moments later, a familiar figure stepped out into the shadow of the hallway.
“Thought you up and left me,” Wyatt croaked in his sleep-hoarse voice as Lex shuffled into the living room, and stepped around the table to claim one of his hands.
“You drove,” she reminded as she ushered him off the couch, and stepped behind him to guide him to the bedroom they hadn't quite made it to.
“Don't mean you couldn't of called an-”
“Wyatt...hush,” she mumbled, her voice just as scratchy as his own, as her hands dropped away from his waist, the sounds of light-weigh pieces of something falling to the floor behind him.
“What are you-mmph,” Wyatt began, his voice falling away as she turned him around by the sleeve of his button-down and dragged him down for a kiss, most of her clothes in half-dry piles on the floor.
“I realize it's probably instinct for you to not trust people...but if I'm gonna stay here, you're gonna have to start trusting me,” Lex explained, her hands at his shirt buttons as his own hands flew down to his belt and the fly of his jeans.
“If you stay,” Wyatt repeated, his hands grasping at her waist as she walked him backwards to the edge of the bed, and followed him on top of it, his jeans at his ankles and his boxer-briefs half-way down his thighs as her naked body straddled him.
“You didn't change your mind, did you?” she murmured as her hand drifted down to his cock, not quite ready for her, but on the precipice, as so she was for him.
“I...mmphh...absolutely not,” Wyatt sighed, his hips bucking lightly against the air as she slid the underside of his cock along the saliva-slick folds of her nethers. “Stay with me,” he softly pleaded as she worked his length in her careful grip, his own hands seeking out her jaw as he drew her closer, aching even more for her kiss than the warm embrace of her sex. “Just stay.”
