The amount of steamy moments like this we’re going to get with Josh Hartnett in Verity is going to be incredible 😏🔥
I canʼt wait 🥰 I need to watch it right now! Josh is so sexy 🥴
Itʼs said that we’ll be getting another trailer soon, and that wouldnʼt surprise me given that there are exactly three months left until the release ❤️🔥
This exact moment of Josh Hartnett’s Cooper Abbott made me think of the 'two lives' I lead, but when it comes to social media 😆 Since I don't just run this account... 🤫
I don’t care about the number of likes, whether my posts go viral or not, or if I get a massive following... On my socials, I’m just looking to share this beautiful feeling I have for Josh, which brings me so much joy, doing it through photos, some videos, and writing long captions like this one 🤭 And I can’t help but feel happy when I see that someone has truly connected with my content, with me, and shares what they feel for him too 😍💖
Anyway! Thank you so much for the warm welcome to this fandom, and I hope I can keep posting content of Josh whenever I can 🫶🏻
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.
🔪 🔪 🔪
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.
🔪 🔪 🔪
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.”
Oh when Cooper finds out about Delilah's tattoo he feels a conflict within him.....Is that your subtle way of calling me insecure?".... No, it's me acknowledging your jealous streak," she clarified...🙈... then he mused and realizes what it means that she bears a distinctive mark of her fidelity to him🔪... "Aww Cooper smile genuinely"... Maybe I should get a little book inked on 🙈....He is so cheeky but at the same time so cute😄.....Tell me something true,"Delilah mumbled,he answered honestly. I missed you."🥰..... Cooper?" she asked again,"Lie to me." he contemplated her request..."I love you♥️...Awwww Cooper despite his inner demons, jealous streak, he can't lie to her because he loves her too much." Cooper feels like he can be completely genuine with her and now with Delilah's tattoo in honor of The butcher even more, It is tangible proof of her loyalty to him🙏
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.”
She surrenders to his control, and Cooper uses his seduction and power over her not to tease her , but to give her pleasure, Instead of a scene of domination , it becomes one of mutual understanding...Despite her nervousness, her conversation with Riley flowed very natural and empathetic about what Riley might be feeling about her parents' divorce, even telling Riley that she never met her father. ......."I hope you know you're more to me than just the physical stuff"..Cooper has earned her trust and she has earned his trust by showing that they understand and care for each other on a deeper level..."Aww.. and you know I love you....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.”
My God, Wyatt was in a state of uncertainty because he didn't really know what was stopping Lex from moving forward in their relationship😭 ..."I think your boyfriend's here...."He's not my boyfr..."Does he know that..😭 Wyatt thought maybe it was because of his record, but Lex made him suffer just so she wouldn't suffer because long-distance dating relationships had never worked out for her🥹.....Oh Lex, you're too self-sufficient to be a kept woman. yeah Lex, please just stay with Wyatt and come on, let him spoil you a little.🙏🥰
Bleed American - Wyatt Walker ("Ida Red" 2021) x Fem OC
* Part 2 : Sweat *
(( NSFW ))
A/N : Even though Chapter 1 of this story was not the first Josh Hartnett character fic I posted, it actually was the very first one I started writing for his characters. It's nice to come back to his story. It's sad to know it's going to disappear into the void like the last 5 fics/chapters I posted. It's...possibly a little ooc for Wyatt, but who's to say, since we don't show see him with anything close to even a 'like' interest during the entire film. Who's to fucking say? (my gif)
Warnings for : semi-dubious consent sexual content and mentions of THC Edibles and Alcohol consumption
CHAPTER 1 : SALT JOSH HARTNETT MASTERLIST
(( word count ~ 7,900 ))
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“All are welcome here except racists, sexists, homophobes...and assholes,” Wyatt quietly read aloud the big, bold sign beside the entrance of the Mercury Lounge, a local dive bar that happened to double as a live music venue, featuring one of the tiniest stages he'd ever seen. Between the sign and entryway stood a propped up piece of chalkboard featuring scribbled names of drinks and their prices, and the name of the band performing that night – a band with whom he was familiar with due to one of its members. And she hadn't even told him about it. That, alone, frustrated him.
It had been almost a month since that first fateful night in a completely different bar, that night which had gone from bad to worse, and somehow ended amazingly. Sure, he hadn't actually gotten to do all he wanted to do that night, but considering he had expected less than nothing, and ended up with her phone number, well...he couldn't have asked for much more. Since that night, they had maintained a mostly casual correspondence, texting almost every day, occasionally calling. The phone calls always seemed to devolve into the less than casual, eventually, so they had been fewer than he'd like. The little surprise texts he'd become accustomed to, however, were a welcome change to his circumstances. Throughout all their conversations, though, she had not mentioned once that she was performing in Tulsa, not even ten minutes from his shop. If it weren't for his little sister, Darla, stalking the band's social media, he might not have found out at all.
“-not alone 'cause the TV's on, yeah...” Somewhat off-key singing filled the bar as Wyatt stepped inside, stopped immediately by an employee with a rubber stamp, and a cash box. “I'm not crazy 'cause I take the right pills...every day...” Digging out his wallet, Wyatt traded a ten dollar bill for a star-shaped stamp of ink on the back of his hand, and stepped inside the musically inclined building. “Clean your conscience...Clear your thoughts,” the frontman sang into his microphone at the opposite end of the structure – face, voice and song all unfamiliar. Neither the guitarist at one side, nor the bassist on the other, looked anything like the woman he'd met, several weeks ago, and he had to step closer to the bar to see through to the very back of the stage, and the young woman with a head of indigo blue hair, rhythmically beating a drum kit. “...Salt, Sweat...Sugar on the asphalt...” the singer continued, the familiar face in the back gazing to the assembly of percussion before her. Keeping his back to the stage as he ordered a bottle of beer, Wyatt stayed as out of sight as he could manage until the music ceased.
“Can I have your autograph?” Wyatt asked in jest as he neared the drummer, the room filled only with sound in the form of talking and clinking glass, the band on a brief break before the second half of their set.
“I thought that was you,” Lex admitted as she turned around, a towel in her hand, and sweat all over her face and upper chest that she proceeded to wipe away. “Are you stalking me?” she asked, unserious, gazing down from her crouched position on the stage to the man who had only a month ago been a stranger.
“No, but...Darla might be, a little,” he explained, and she looked up thoughtfully and nodded. “Maybe I should be, though,” Wyatt continued, almost too quiet to hear among the noisy conversations of the bar. “How come you didn't tell me you were comin' t' town?”
“I...was gonna call you after we finished up,” Lex answered as she glanced around the bar beyond him, and to the clock that told her she had only a few minutes more to speak.
“What, you don't want me watchin' you perform?” he asked, glancing down to the other side of the stage as Lex's current bandmates began to filter back onto it.
“Not really,” Lex asserted, glancing up to the clock again. “We've only got, like...five more songs-”
“I ain't goin' nowhere,” Wyatt uttered, his tone reassuring, and she let out a sigh as she glanced away from him, just to be drawn back when he reached up to her and placed his large hand at the back of her head, drawing her a few inches closer for a kiss that the whole band 'Ooohed' at.
🎶 🎵 🎶
“Thought you said you played bass,” Wyatt spoke louder than normal to be heard over the crowd of event attendees, pre-recorded music pumping through the speakers as the band packed up their equipment.
“I said I usually play bass,” Lex corrected as she worked, placing a heavy electronic piece in his arms to carry as she finished up, and finally leading him out the back to load it into the band's van. “I play drums when I can...it's not as rough on my hands.” The conversation went dry until everything was packed up and in its proper, mobile place again. “What are you up to, tonight?” Lex finally ventured as the rest of her bandmates retreated back into the bar to take advantage of their discounted drinks, leaving the drummer and her 'groupie' as they called him, alone in the rear parking area.
“I, uh...I actually have plans tonight,” Wyatt admitted, and his heart sank a bit as he watched the glow in the drummer's features fade a touch.
“Oh,” was all she managed as she diverted her gaze to the scenery around her, Wyatt taking in a breath as he watched her.
“It's not a date, or nothin' like that,” he quickly clarified, Lex glancing his way for a moment before they shifted to a sudden noise beyond the open back door of the bar, behind them. “I promised Dallas I'd help him with a...well, somethin' he's gotta do,” Wyatt explained, vaguely. “If I'd known in advance, I mighta been able to-”
“It's okay,” Lex mumbled, putting on an unconvincing smile as she finally looked back up at him, shrugging slightly.
“I ain't gotta leave for a little bit, though...” Wyatt clarified, reaching his hand out for Lex's, slightly rough from the utilization of her drum sticks. “I was hopin' I might spend some time with you, if you haven't got plans already.”
Gazing down to the large hand that dwarfed her own, Lex gave it a soft squeeze as she glanced back up to Wyatt's hopeful features, and the olive green lenses of his glasses. “I don't have any plans,” she mumbled as he stroked at the softer parts of her hand with the pad of his thumb.
“Well, let's get the hell outta here, then.”
🎶 🎵 🎶
“What happened to the purple?” Wyatt queried as he sat with his knees spread wide, on the rounded edge of the sidewalk that had become their impromptu picnic area. Unbeknownst to Lex, Wyatt had already missed a call from Dallas, complaining about his tardiness, but he was uninterested in missing a single minute of the sparse amount of time they had to enjoy each other's company. There certainly wouldn't be time enough to enjoy each other in other ways, so he had to make due – even if it ended in a scolding.
“Oh, there's definitely still purple in there,” Lex assured, grasping some of the long strands from her ponytail and drawing them into view. “It was pink before, and I decided to go blue when I ran out of purple dye, but...I didn't fade it enough and it came out kinda indigo,” she explained, realizing as soon as her words ceased that she was probably boring him.
“Are you going green next?” Wyatt questioned aloud, to Lex's surprise, and she looked away from the chicken strips in the paper basket in her hands – untasted and still too hot to eat – to the man beside her.
“I...dunno,” she admitted, Wyatt reaching his undirtied hand out to stroke gently at her cheek, her jaw. “How would you feel about that?” she asked.
“Well, I don't see how my opinion matters either way,” he immediately affirmed, and she appreciated his words more than she expected. “But I like green just fine,” he continued, his umber brown eyes staring into the forest green of her own.
“That's good to know,” Lex mumbled, wishing she'd waited to order the greasy fried food in her grasp.
“I haven't changed mine at all in a while. Maybe I should-”
“No, I like it,” Lex mumbled, reaching a hand out briefly, but drawing it back as she noticed the sheen of oil from the fried food on her fingertips, glancing back up to Wyatt's kind facade. “I think I should've ordered something a little cleaner,” she mumbled, but Wyatt shook his head slightly as he reached the brief distance between them, gently grasping her jaw as he placed a soft kiss against her lips.
“You order up anything you want, sweetheart. I'll just have to do the touchin' for both of us,” he mumbled, placing his free hand on her knee and grasping it, as his other hand swept around into her indigo hair to encourage her closer, his kiss more intense as she moaned softly into his mouth, the container of her food almost slipping out of her hand.
“Wyatt...” she finally whispered as the insistence of his lips faded into something more tender, his forehead resting against hers as Tulsa natives strode by the two of them, down the concrete trail beyond them.
“Hmm?” he murmured as his lips ghosted along her jaw, his large hand at her knee slowly proceeding up her leg.
“As much as I appreciate...whatever this is,” Lex managed, slightly shrinking away from his hand, “didn't you say you had somewhere to be?”
Wyatt's hands paused in their movements as he let out a sigh, glancing away from the drummer at his side to seek out his phone from his pocket. “Shit...” he grumbled as he stared down at the multiple texts and missed calls on the screen. “I'm gonna be hearin' 'bout this, all night,” he sighed, pressing his phone back into the pocket he'd extracted it from.
“Gotta go?” Lex mumbled as she sat her container of food down on the cement, hoping the ants didn't immediately target it. Wyatt raised his brows and nodded, standing up and stretching slightly before he reached a hand out to her.
“Yeah, I gotta,” he conceded, glancing to her deep green eyes as he tugged out his own olive-lensed sunglasses, and slipped them into place. “I wouldn't mind bein' a little later, though, if you need a ride back to your motel,” Wyatt hedged.
“Now, there's a good idea,” Lex mumbled as she stood beside him, dusting herself off after she reached back down for her food.
“What was that?” Wyatt requested to hear again what he had not missed the first time around, and she glanced his way, and elsewhere again as she let out a sigh.
“You sure you're not just trying to get me alone?” Lex stated a bit louder, accepting his hand when he offered it, as the two of them began to make the trek back to the venue.
“Are you questioning my intentions?” Wyatt quipped, feigning offense as he walked alongside her, holding her smaller hand in his larger one.
“It wouldn't be the first time you took me to a secluded location, just the two of us, and...we both know how things went down last time,” Lex astutely pointed out, and Wyatt let out a groan.
“As I recall, they didn't go down,” Wyatt pointed out, glancing to the young woman at his side as the venue came into sight. “And not for lack of tryin'-”
“I remember,” Lex admitted, letting herself be drawn nearer to the man at her side when he tugged her closer, and wrapped his arm around her, his palm against the side of her slender waist. “I also remember you stopping when I asked you to,” she acknowledged as they reached the parking lot of the venue, shoes crunching tiny pebbles as the sounds of the dive bar finally reached their ears.
“So what are you nervous about, then?” Wyatt questioned as he directed her not toward his truck, but the backdoor of the venue, instead.
“I wouldn't go as far as nervous,” Lex answered as they reached the closed, but unlocked, back door that separated them from the tiny stage inside. “I just...” her voice faded as she considered him.
“You just what, darlin'?” Wyatt asked as he leaned against the wall of the building, tugging her closer with the hand of hers that he still held.
“I...can't decide if it's gonna be harder to say goodbye now, or...in the privacy of my room,” she admitted, casting her gaze elsewhere. “You're not the only one who wants to get laid.”
Wyatt's brows raised in surprise at her words, caught slightly off guard from her confession, flattered. “That so?” he quipped, and she rolled her eyes and glanced back at him.
“Among other reasons...I think, mostly, I just don't wanna say goodbye. I was hoping we could spend more time together than this, after a month of just talking, but...I guess that's my fault for-”
“Alexandria,” Wyatt spoke up, taking in and letting out an audible breath. “Not that I think you've got anything to be embarrassed about,” he began, tugged her closer with the hand that still held on to hers, “but I understand. It ain't like I don't got aspects of my life that I...that I'm not itching for you to know about.” Wyatt did not miss the shift in her gaze in silent answer to his words, but he did not acknowledge it aloud, either. “I'm pretty sure Dallas and I are gonna be workin' til pretty late, but I'll also be at the shop in the mornin'...maybe I can stop by your motel, or you can pop by my office before you have to go.”
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“This is...,” Wyatt began, searching for a positive as he looked around Lex's very simple, aged motel room.
“It's cheap, is what it is,” Lex clarified, glancing around the unremarkable space, and dropping what she'd carried with her from the venue, onto the bed.
“And yet, my couch is completely free,” he pointed out, and received a dramatic sigh in return.
“Okay, you win! Next time I'm gonna be in the area, I'll say something in advance,” she huffed, stepping into the tiny bathroom to wash her hands as Wyatt plopped down on an empty area of the bed, surprised at the quality of the bedspread, in contrast to the rest of the room.
“I hope so,” he answered quietly, running his hands over the fabric below him. “Did you pay a little extra for better linens, or something?”
“Hmm?” she asked wordlessly, stepping out of the restroom again, hands degreased and ready to touch whatever she pleased. “Oh, no, those are mine. I bring my own bedding from home. I prefer knowing who's slept, and done whatever else, on the sheets I'm sandwiched between.” Lex watched as Wyatt nodded along, thoughtful, and proceeded to lie back against the cloth-covered surface. Closing his eyes, he relaxed against the cushioned surface, and Lex stepped up beside him, carefully curling her finger around one of his belt loops. “I thought you had to go,” she whispered, Wyatt letting out a breath as he finally looked back up at her.
“I do,” he admitted, reaching for her hand, and stroking her knuckles lightly when he grasped it in his own. “But, I don't want to,” Wyatt continued.
“I know,” Lex whispered, sitting down on the bed beside his waist, and leaning nearer when he motioned her closer with his unoccupied hand. “Wyatt, I don't wanna get you in trouble,” she breathed, Wyatt's eyes finally flitting open to take in the sight of her from his lounging position.
“I know you don't, sweetheart,” he acknowledged, his hand raising to stroke at her cheek, and glide his digits into the tied-up hair. “So, you better kiss me goodbye,” he continued, his gaze shifting from her eyes, to her lips, to the boat neck collar of her shirt, and all it revealed. Just as she began to lean closer, his mint-freshened breath against her skin, the phone in his pocket rattled and raged to life, Wyatt closing his eyes tight as he tugged it out, lips pursed in frustration as he let out a breath through his nose.
“Dallas?” Lex predicted, sitting back up, despite Wyatt's wishes.
“He says he's gonna hunt me down if I don't get my ass over there,” he sighed, shoving the phone out of sight again. “I really gotta go,” he affirmed, pushing himself up into a sitting position, Lex's body still quite close to his own. “I'll text you later, okay?” he promised, Lex leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, hesitant to do anything more. “I'm sorry about this.”
“Me, too,” Lex mumbled as she watched him gather what little he'd brought inside her room, the two slipping into an embrace that could not last long enough, and the drummer watched with a frown when Wyatt finally stepped out of sight.
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Dallas was already out the door and stepping onto the porch when Wyatt rolled up to his house, hands on his hips, watching as his nephew parked and hopped out of his matte black pickup. “Glad to see you didn't break all your fingers,” the tatted up older man proclaimed as he watched the younger man approach, looking more put-upon than usual. “I know your phone ain't dead, cause I had to sit through the ringing every time I...Wyatt!”
“What?!” the younger man snapped as he walked past his uncle and stepped inside, immediately plopping down on the couch.
“What...” Dallas repeated under his breath as he stepped inside as well and closed the door. “Fuck's going on?” he asked as he stared at his nephew, his muscular arms crossed over his mesh-covered chest.
Wyatt closed his eyes as he leaned back against the aged surface of the sofa cushions, shaking his head slightly, running his hands through his chestnut hair. “Nothin',” he finally answered with a sigh.
“Doesn't look like nothin',” Dallas answered as he stepped into the kitchen, reemerging a few seconds later with a couple of bottles of beer. “Somethin' happen?” he asked, voice calmer as he placed an ice-cold bottle down on the coffee table, covered in scratches and dents and water stains. Wyatt shook his head, eyes still closed. “Somethin' almost happen?” Dallas pushed, and Wyatt let out an audible breath through his nose. “Somethin' good almost happen?” he continued, and Wyatt finally opened his eyes again, glancing to his uncle.
“We gonna do this, or what?” Wyatt answered, and Dallas' brows knit together as he observed the younger man.
“I ain't seen you this upset since that rocker girly left,” he calmly observed, and Wyatt let out another sigh, and leaned forward to snag the bottle on the table, gripping it tight as he twisted the cap off. “Why do I get the feelin' I'm keepin' you from somethin'?”
“Let's just get this done,” Wyatt ignored the older man's words again, glancing up to his standing form as he dragged off his Ray-Ban's and pocketed them. The sun that had began to set on his way to the house was nearly sunk completely beyond the horizon by the time the two men left, Dallas opting to drive as his nephew seemed to be unusually preoccupied with his phone.
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< aren't you supposed to be busy > Lex typed onto her phone, Wyatt not even gone half an hour and already texting her.
< I am. I'm not driving. > Wyatt answered, gazing up to the road, and glancing his uncle's way when he felt eyes on himself. “Watch the road,” he mumbled, slipping the device into his shirt pocket.
“Am I fuckin' up your plans, or somethin'?” Dallas quipped as he brought the car to a temporary pause at a red light. “We've put off casing the place for almost a month, and the window's closin' up.”
“I'm here, ain't I?” Wyatt spoke aloud, reaching to his pocket when it began to buzz.
“Not really,” Dallas answered, turning into a side street as soon as the opportunity presented itself, and pulling over, parking the car. Before Wyatt could say a thing, Dallas snatched the phone out of his nephew's hand before he could put it away, again. “Jesus, Wyatt, you're forty one, not fourteen...,” he added, swiping on the screen Wyatt had not locked in time. “Did I guess right? This that girl from last month, at the bar?”
“...Yeah,” Wyatt mumbled, relaxing his back against the leather of his seat. “I found out last night her band was gonna be here today.”
“So she told you-”
“No, I said I found out. She didn't tell me. I guess she was plannin' on calling me after, and I messed up her plans,” he explained.
Dallas was quiet for several seconds, only speaking when the younger man glanced his way, “Is that how you got that stamp on your hand?” When Wyatt nodded his head, silent, Dallas bluntly asked, “did I cock-block you?"
"It ain't always just about that," Wyatt answered with a sigh, “But, yeah, probably...wasn't about just that, though,” he insisted, and accepted his phone's return, pocketing it once more. “I know you probably think that's my problem-”
“No, it ain't your problem,” Dallas cut in, and Wyatt glanced across to his uncle. “I know you got higher standards...and you always were a sensitive kid-”
“You're not even 14 years older than me,” Wyatt retorted, pushing his hair out of his face. Dallas was quiet for several seconds before he finally spoke up.
“We can do this another night,” the older man offered, placing his foot on the brake as he shifted the car into reverse. “I'm not gonna watch you walk around, sad and sappy, for another month, because you missed your opportunity,” he explained, as Wyatt realized he'd turned the car around, when he pulled back onto the main street.
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When it had become indisputably clear that Wyatt would not be returning that night, probably caught up for the foreseeable hours in whatever he and his uncle were wrapped up in, the drummer shifted to her back-up plan – the cannabinoid gummies she had brought along on the trip. Lex could only speculate on what the two Walker men were involving themselves in for the evening, given the results of the criminal history checks she'd looked into for both men, expecting to find nothing, and instead discovering way more than she'd ever fathomed. Wyatt's record had been far less expansive and colorful than Dallas', but it, and he, were certainly not clean. Lex had opted not to mention the substances she'd brought along with her, to the man whom she'd spent less hours with than she'd hoped for, that evening. And she'd been as careful as she could manage to not give any indication of her knowledge of his shadier behaviors. Much as her findings should have thrown up so many red flags, she'd arrived in town with bubbling enthusiasm to see him, and hopefully get a second chance at a first night together.
The edibles in her system, and a stopwatch on her phone set to allow her more predictability in the initial effects, she went about setting up the room the way she liked it, introducing her go-to motel mainstays, and stripping the clothes she'd sweated in onstage to prepare for a very careful washing of her indigo-stained hair, and a relaxing shower. Almost an hour exactly from the moment she'd set the reverse timer on her phone, her hair and body still surrounded by damp towels, she heard a knock at her motel room door.
Staying silent as she searched for her phone, looking for new texts, and finding nothing indicating a return of the man who'd left her room, a few hours before, she tiptoed near the window as another knocking sound erupted from the door, and let out an audible sigh of relief at the sight of his familiar Chevy Silverado. “Wyatt?” she called through the closed door as she shuffled near it, met by his familiar voice.
“It's me,” he confirmed, reaching his hand toward the doorknob and testing it. Locked, as he'd assumed.
“Okay, hold on, I...gimme a minute,” Lex answered, her voice a little softer, and with her body and hair still damp from the shower, she started to wander around the room, gathering the pieces of clothing she'd tossed throughout, and finding only her shorts, shirt, and bra. Her legs were already a bit wobbly as she searched around, the beginning stages of her gummy experience already stirring into motion.
“Catch you at a bad time, baby doll?” he asked as he quietly slumped against the door, his own motor functions just slightly impaired from the beers, and the shot of whiskey, he'd drank down with his uncle.
“No, not...I just got out of the shower,” she answered, stepping closer to the door to speak, not wishing to disclose her delicate state to anyone other than the man on the other side. Her movements were not as smooth as she would have liked, and she had to take a moment to grab something stable as she paused in her hunt for her panties, finally giving up the search, and crossing carefully to her bag to grab her taser, just in case. Her bandmates hadn't even been keen on letting him drive off with her after their set, and she wasn't going to completely abandon her sense of self-preservation when there wasn't even a peephole to look through.
Lex's steps were slightly unsteady as she approached the door, blinking slowly, and glancing down to the electric weapon in her hand, the trigger ready to activate. With her free hand, she unlocked the door, chain still in place, and glanced through the opening to see a very familiar face. Before Wyatt could say a word, Lex closed the door in his face again, a rattling noise coming through, and the door opened again, wide and unrestrained.
“Did you forget someth-?” Lex asked immediately, and Wyatt spoke no words, simply stepped through the freshly opened door, and grasped her jaw, drawing her unsuspecting lips into his insistent kiss.
“I got released on good behavior,” Wyatt breathed, leaning away only long enough to speak, and claiming her lips with his again. He tasted like something stronger than the beer he'd drank during their impromptu dinner.
“Wyatt, hold on a...” Lex mumbled as she put the most minute amount of distance between them, but his soft lips were against her unmoisturized cheek, her jaw, her throat. The tee she wore, slightly damp from the haphazard drying job she'd done with the towel, clung uncomfortably to her skin. “W-...Wyatt,” she huffed as he tipped her chin back with his thumbs and placed open-mouthed kisses against her throat. Under different, soberer circumstances, she might have pushed her hands against his chest, and not curled her fingers around the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. Even the man with his hand at her jaw, and in her damp, indigo hair, was a tad surprised at the delicate scrape of her fingernails at his skin, and drew away just enough to find her gaze.
“Miss me that much, darlin'?” Wyatt breathed as he stood up taller, brushing blue strands out of her face, and cradling her cheeks in his palms.
“You kissed me,” she mumbled as her hands drifted away from his button-down collar, to his broad shoulders, gripping him like she could lose her balance at any moment, and Wyatt noticed.
“Lex...are you alright? You seem a little, uh...” he uttered, watching as her eyes closed, almost dreamily, when his large hands lowered to her waist. If he didn't know full well it was impossible, he would have assumed her intoxicated. “You didn't pick tonight to start drinkin', did ya?”
Brows furrowed in mild confusion, Lex stared at Wyatt for a few moments in silence, before she shook her head slightly and mumbled, “No, I took an edible.”
“You took an edible?” Wyatt retorted, his surprise transparent.
“Is there an echo in the room?” Lex huffed, staring up at him. “Are you upset or someth-”
“Nah, not at all, I just...I didn't realize you, uh...partook,” he defended, stroking lightly at her sides through her damp shirt, watching as she twitched at the light touch. “Thought you were, uh...straight edge.”
“I am, mostly,” Lex admitted, her hands drifting down his biceps, surprisingly thick with muscle under the sleeves. “I only take edibles, I don't...”
“Yeah, I know you hate smoke,” Wyatt recollected. “What's that gotta do with me not being here, though,” he inquired.
“...I didn't say it had anything to-”
“Yeah, you did, you said I wasn't coming back,” he repeated again, and she nodded slowly, the inebriant in her system becoming more noticeable to them both.
“I didn't think you were...Wait, why are you here again? I don't want you getting in trouble because of-”
“No, sweetheart, you ain't gonna get me in any trouble. Dallas, uh...dismissed me,” Wyatt explained, his hands stilling as she draped her arms over his shoulders, and around his neck. “...Lex?” A 'hmm?' sounded from her throat, and he continued. “Darlin', I, uh...You're makin' it kinda hard to be...upstandin',” Wyatt breathed, as his fingers splayed apart at her waist, gripping her smaller frame as she leaned in even closer to him, their bodies flush against each other.
“So don't be,” Lex whispered, her hands gripping his shirt collar, and his hair, when he leaned nearer to place his parted lips against her throat. “I didn't think you were coming back...and I didn't have anywhere to go, so I just...”
Wyatt's mouth kissed a damp line up the side of her neck, his hot breath against her hyper-sensitive skin, making her whole body flex, “Thought you'd get a little high?” When she nodded slightly, her breath coming out through her parted lips, his hands dipped lower, palming both her cheeks, and manipulating her hips to work against his. “Is this what it does to you?” he sighed, his gaze falling to her features, calm and serene, sans the furrow of her brows.
“Mmhmm,” she sighed, and immediately took in a sharp breath when he rutted lightly against her, every little movement of her body against his helping to stir his cock to life beneath his jeans.
“You weren't thinkin' about calling someone else over, were ya?” he whispered, his gaze lifting away from the sight of her to pass quickly over the room. Though his question was mostly in jest, he did take a moment to scan for changes of the order of the room, since he'd left almost 2 hours before. Nothing stood out, nothing out of place, except for the presence of something green on the floor, just beyond the corner of the bed.
“Of course not,” she reassured, and her haze lifted slightly as she felt Wyatt's fingers at the small of her back, felt the tips of them disappear below the edge of the denim. “What are you-”
“Didja forget somethin'?” he murmured as his hands dipped further beneath the scratchy, blue fabric, grasping her ass with both hands as she ground against him, her grip on him tightening.
“I was still in a towel when you knocked...I grabbed enough to open the door,” she mumbled as Wyatt slowly extracted his hands from the tight squeeze of Lex's denim shorts, and leisurely wrapped his arms around her back.
“So, if this is what it does to you, what'd me leavin' have anything to do with it?”
“Well, I was hoping we might...pick up where we left off that first night, in your office,” Lex confessed, and Wyatt's thick, dark brows lifted a bit at he comprehended her meaning. “But you left, and I didn't think you were coming back, and...”
“I take it, it doesn't just make ya...,” he paused to consider, and choose his words very carefully, “acquiescent?”
“Ooh, good word choice,” Lex quipped, her hands slipping back around to his chest, gripping lightly the button-down shirt he wore. “No, it also makes me, uh...extra sensitive, and...”
“Horny?” Wyatt concluded with a grin, and she let out a sigh in answer.
“Well, if you wanna be crass about it...” she mumbled.
“So you decided you'd just take things into your own hands?”
“More or less,” Lex admitted.
“So let me see if I understand this right,” Wyatt articulated as he held her in his careful embrace, ready to grab her if she became a bit too unstable on her feet. “You took the edible to help yourself come, because I wasn't here to do it for you?”
“Mostly...” Lex admitted, gazing at his chest as she plucked at the highest fastened button of his shirt.
“Do you want me to make you come?” the ex-con breathed into her ear as he dipped lower, his arms pulling away from their chaste position around her waist, his hands finding her hips, tucking his thumbs into her belt loops.
“Yes, please...” Lex sighed against his throat as she leaned in closer, pressing damp kisses against his stubbled skin.
“I just...mmph, I don't want you to regret this in the mornin',” Wyatt whispered, lying his forehead against her crown and breathing in the lingering scent of conditioner from her freshly washed hair. “Damn, you smell so good,” he huffed as she plucked at more of his buttons.
“If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have let you drive me back here in the first place,” Lex pointed out, finishing with his last button and lifting her hands to press the shoulders of his structured shirt down his biceps. “Unless you don't want to,” she added as she tugged his shirt completely off, tossing it toward the chest of drawers, and missing completely.
Grasping her wrist and twirling her around, her free hand grabbing for him in an attempt to keep her balance, he held her denim-covered ass against the crotch of his jeans, cotton fabric taut and distorted from the bulge behind his zipper. “I ain't that respectable,” he rasped against her throat as he leaned over her shoulder. Similar to the previous actions of his own, the hand that had grabbed hold of Wyatt for balance pushed blindly beneath the closure of his jeans, and the clingy boxer-briefs below, grasping his quickly stiffening member in her hand, running the pad of her thumb over the tiny slit, and palming his leaking juices to wrap her hand around the head. The hand at her wrist dropped to where the other fell, gripping the loops of her jean shorts and cupping her denim-clad nethers, manipulating her with his fingers as best he could through the thick fabric. “You gonna let me finish what I started the last time you were in town?” Wyatt huffed, his warm breath brushing her oversensitive skin, the hands at the crotch of her jeans seeking out the button snap, and the zipper below.
“I never should have made you wait,” she whimpered as his parted lips pressed damp kisses along her throat, sucking at the most sensitive spots – not fully aware of how much her edible-infused system practically left the whole of her an erogenous zone.
“No, baby, don't say that...don't you ever second guess yourself over what you think I want,” Wyatt muttered against the delicate flesh of her earlobe. “And, besides...,” he continued, tugging at the sides of her opened shorts with both hands, and easing them down her thighs, “We ain't gonna stop 'til we're both satisfied, tonight.” Through their battle to get her shorts off, they'd edged closer to the bed, and as Lex gripped his thick forearms to step out of them, he scooped up her half-naked body and gently dropped her onto the bed.
Adjusting himself inside his still-zipped jeans, Wyatt glanced up to watch Lex strip the last of her clothes away, tossing them out of sight and reaching for his hand when she found him watching her. “Wyatt, please...” she whimpered, her eyelids and the rest of her body seemingly weighed down as if gravity had increased, another effect of the edible she'd ingested. Reaching blindly for his hand as he crawled atop her, her whole frame seemed to flex away from the bed as she felt his lips wrap around one of her stiff little peaks that he'd had the pleasure of tasting that first night, weeks ago.
“God damn, girl,” Wyatt groaned out as he lie his body more flush to hers, her essence slicking his chest as he shifted to lap and suck at the taut bud's twin. “Barely touched ya,” he whispered as her hands carded through his disheveled chestnut hair. “Am I just that good, or is that gummy you ate doin' the heavy lifting?”
“It's probably a little more 'the gummy',” she confessed, lightly massaging at his scalp as he shifted to the flat valley between her breasts, “but it doesn't do anything if I'm not, you know...stimulated...mentally. It's not like I haven't imagined this particular scenario, before,” she admitted.
“You sayin' I got you off before, and I wasn't even there for it?” he queried, his scruff brushing pleasantly against her naked skin.
“I guess I...I never thought about it, that way,” she murmured, her fingers in his hair curling a little tighter as his kisses began to travel south, “Wyatt...I...please...”
“Relax, baby,” Wyatt breathed against her delicate skin as his lips kissed a damp trail down her concave stomach, and along her hip, her thigh that fell farther to the side. “Is this what you like?” he rasped as he gripped her thighs and dragged them further apart, exposing her damn-near dripping pussy to the artificially chilled air. Her answer came not on her lips, but in her fingers, carding more insistently through his silky hair, and lightly rutting her hips.
“Yes...,” she whimpered, Wyatt flicking his tongue over her little bud and sucking at it as he held her insistent thighs apart.
“Didn't you say this was what you missed most?” he questioned, twitching and stroking his tongue against her needy clit, as she whimpered and sighed. “What you miss most about dating...gettin' your pussy ate out?”
“Wyatt,” she huffed his name, flushed from his attentions, and his unashamed words. “I can't believe you remember that...I thought you were...drunk,” she sighed, faintly recalling one of their many late night phone calls, the ones that so often glided into non-platonic territory.
“I could be blacked out and remember something like that,” he sighed, ghosting over her sensitive bud with his lips before letting his tongue travel all the way back to her last hole, gripping her thighs tighter when she instinctively pulled away, lapping at her puckered skin and pressing the tip of his tongue inside.
“Fingers,” she mumbled as she reached for his hair, willing him flush to her skin, her inhibitions falling further away by the moment. “Use your fingers,” Lex softly begged. When Wyatt glimpsed her way, lips curling into a grin when he drew his tongue away, and feeling her fingers in his hair again. “No, don't st-...” she whimpered, and Wyatt pressed his tongue back inside, deeper, before pulling back.
“You better get on your knees then, sweetheart,” he rasped, and without a moment's hesitation, she did just that, not even grasping for a pillow as her cheek met her sheets, Wyatt's hands at her hips as he manipulated her body into position and pressed the tip of his tongue in her tighter hole.
“Fuck me with your fingers,” she pleaded, and Wyatt swept an arm around her thigh to shove his fingers inside her unoccupied entrance.
“You gonna let me put my cock up here, too?” the man rasped, sliding his fingertips over her clit, rubbing until her thighs shook, and shoving two of his fingers insider her, stroking at her spongy walls until the rest of her shook, her face against the mattress to drown out her whimpers and sobs.
“You can...you can fuck me wherever you want...just make me cum in your mouth, first,” she begged, and her whole body trembled as Wyatt grabbed her hips to flip her, and pressed her ass back against the sheets.
“You know...” Wyatt mumbled as he pressed kisses along her inner thigh, nearing her needy center, “the more that comes out your mouth, the more I think I shouldn't be-”
Lex's hand fisted in the man's hair, tugging him just slightly away from his intended destination as she felt his breath on her skin. “I've wanted you since the night we met,” she huffed, her grip loosening as he began to dip closer to her folds, slick from his mouth and her essence, guiding two familiar digits inside, the pads of them already a bit wrinkled from her stimulation. “I only ate the-nngh...” she began, her voice shifting into a whimper as his fingers began to curl against her spongy upper wall. “Fuck...I only...mmph...I only took it 'cause I...'cause I thought I couldn't have you...” she stammered, both her hands in his mop of hair as his tongue lapped ceaselessly at her abused clit, his fingers pumping furiously.
“Darlin', if I'd known you needed me this much, I never would've left,” Wyatt mumbled against her skin before he began to suck at her again, his fingers hastening inside her as she began to rut against him more erratically. When she groped around for a pillow, and held it against her mouth as her moans escalated to cries, Wyatt's fingers only twitched faster, her damp walls flexing around his digits, his mouth working at her over-indulged skin, maintaining all contact until she began to press weakly at the crown of his head with her fingertips.
“Wyatt, please,” she whimpered, eyes half lidded as she peered down her body at him.
“Too much?” Wyatt breathed against her thigh, crawling up her seemingly spent form to return to her parted lips.
“Not enough,” she huffed, and the man drew slightly away.
“Did I not make you-”
“No, you did, you...but when I take those...when I'm like this...it just keeps going, as long as I...as long as I don't stop,” she whimpered out between breaths, Wyatt's hands working at the buckle of his belt as he began to strip the rest of his clothes away.
“So, basically...” Wyatt rasped as he hastily tossed everything that adorned his body to the threadbare carpet, “You need me to fuck you?”
“Please,” she practically begged, her hands grasping at the sheets as Wyatt slipped back onto the bed, dragging the bottoms of her thighs up the tops of his own, so her dripping sex slid against the underside of his cock. A groan escaped him as the young woman's hips humped up against him, Lex desperate to be filled by him.
“Fuck, darlin'...drug-addled or not, the way you...” he sighed, eyes screwed tight as she humped up against him at just the perfect angle, and he plunged inside, her quivering walls hugging, so deliciously, his cock. “I don't think I've ever felt so...so wanted,” he admitted, adjusting even closer as she wound her legs around his waist, desperate for the sense of fullness he provided. “I could get used to feeling like this,” Wyatt sighed, his hips pumping steadily as he fucked her needy pussy.
“I've never...I've never been with anyone else when I'm...when I'm like this,” Lex confessed as she clung to him, her whole frame bobbing from the insistence of his pumping hips.
“No, I...oh, fuck...baby doll, I mean...mmphh, I mean you and me,” Wyatt huffed out, wishing once again she'd let him know about her show ahead of time. He'd gone too long without showing himself some special attention, and she felt too god damn good, gripping him like a vice as he pumped inside her throbbing sex. In his thoroughly distracted state, he barely noticed her lack of acknowledgment to his words. He was aware only of the bouncing hips that rutted against him, of her flexing walls that swallowed him so needily, and her hands gripping his disheveled hair as her whole body began to practically convulse, mouth ajar, unfiltered moans pouring out of her as she came for him, again. “Holy shit...fuck, you weren't kidding,” Wyatt mumbled as he pumped his cock inside her, the twitching and flexing of her overstimulated walls seemingly unending. Lex could do little more than wrap her arms around him as her thighs fell apart at his sides, her hips still matching his thrusts. She finally willed her eyes open again when he began to spew profanities.
“What...what's wrong...” she breathed, holding his floppy hair away from his tensed features. He didn't look anywhere near as distressed as he sounded.
“Dallas gave me condoms...I completely forgot 'em,” he groaned, his hips refusing to still.
“It's okay...just don't-”
“I'm gonna...fuck, I'm gonna come-” Wyatt huffed, his fingers practically curling into claws where they gripped her. Before he could register her sliding away from him, Wyatt felt hands pressing against his chest, and he instinctively scrambled off of her before he could form a word, and his back fell flat against the blanket as he felt the wet cavern of Lex's mouth around the head of his cock. “Oh, sweetheart, you don't...oh...oh, fuck, don't stop...” Wyatt went through a gamut of priorities as he felt her wondrous mouth sucking at his length, all sense of chivalry dying the moment he felt the back of her throat against the head of his cock. “God damn,” he groaned, his hand fisting in her hair as she bobbed over him, gripping tighter as she moaned around him, and his hips flexed and shook as he released in the welcoming cavern of her mouth.
Lex's whole body seemed to tremble when he helped her up to her knees, his lips consuming her residual moans, their mouths full of the taste of each other that neither gave a thought to pulling away from.
Lex is acting a little harsh with Wyatt, telling him that she would prefer that he not stay to see the rest of her performance. but come on, Lex, you don't have it that easy...Are you stalking me? Lex please give your autograph to Wyatt .😅.. Wyatt refuses to her request. He's not going anywhere.🙏..Because they are stubborn, they play with their flirting with a bit of irony.🙃...Lex explaining to Wyatt the different shades of her hair colors and Wyatt really is interested? 😮 what happened to the purple? 😊..Lex thinks she's boring him 😀... this dynamic between Lex and Wyatt mixed with a bit of tension, uncertainty intense attraction (The sexual tension between them is palpable, sparks fly before they give in to their desires) Even though Lex has consumed gummies, and for this cause-effect has confessed to Wyatt that she wanted to be with him since the night they met 🙈 My goodness, so delicious 🥵 finally they enjoy sexually (in various ways) They are pure fire between the sheets 🔥
A/N : This is the very last entry I'll be writing for this story, though it is technically the 2nd to last part in the chronological story (I will link the post-epilogue story below that was written last year). I consider this story complete. Unfortunately, there was a large pause mid-way through completing this series that resulted in an even smaller audience when it resumed, so thank you to those who stuck around, and/or actually engaged. *No Kinks Apply*. Everything is consensual, but Cooper is canon-compliant manipulative. Please read the previous chapters first if you haven't already. Gif is mine.
CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5
(POST-EPILOGUE STORY) SHORT STORY : A WINTER'S INTERLUDE
JOSH HARTNETT MASTERLIST
(( word count ~ 2,800 ))
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“So this is what three hundred square feet looks like,” Delilah mumbled as she stepped through the front door of her tiny, new-to-her, studio apartment. As expected, the small domicile was already occupied by a very recognizable figure in her life, and the bookseller watched as Cooper stood up straight from his crouched position on the floor, where he'd been winding back up the cord of the vacuum cleaner he'd brought over. Glancing in her direction as he gripped the appliance and pushed it out of the way, he crossed the room and greeted her with a practically chaste kiss, before he scooped up the pillows and blankets she held in her arms.
“It's not too late to cancel the lease, and-”
“Cooper, I'm not moving in with you,” she interrupted before he could slip into another all-to-familiar episode of advertising the many positives of living with him instead, though the word 'yet' seemed to float around them, invisible and unspoken. “I keep telling you...I need my own space,” Delilah chided as she watched her middle-aged, serial killer boyfriend place the stack of fluffy bedding on a sealed cardboard box, pieces of a table inside, waiting to be assembled. “I miss having a place of my own, and-”
“I know,” Cooper cut in, as he reached a hand out to her, and drew her close, resting his chin lightly atop her head. “It's just been nice, having you over the last few nights,” he explained, his digits fondling the waves of auburn that she had not yet tied up into a bun, in preparation for the hours of moving they had ahead of them.
“It has,” she agreed, her arms around his waist, her temple against his clavicle. “But I really do need my own space,” she repeated, and Cooper finally nodded his head slightly, moving Delilah's along with it. “Besides...how are you ever gonna miss me if we're together that much?”
“Miss you?” Cooper repeated as his hand stilled, and he readjusted to look down to his girlfriend, her gaze not even trying to meet his.
“I don't...want you getting bored of me-”
“That's impossible,” Cooper stated flatly, leaving little room for disagreement, though the woman in his arms attempted as much, regardless.
“You don't know that. I'm not particularly...special, or interesting or-”
“Stop that,” Cooper interrupted, and Delilah's words ceased as she let out a sigh, instead. Much as it pleased him to have her even more isolated, more under his thumb, it bothered him more than even he expected, hearing her belittle herself. “You're interesting to me. And you are definitely special...to me,” he insisted.
Delilah was silent for a few seconds as she felt Cooper hold her even tighter to his body, his fingers splaying out over her back through her t-shirt. As her slender, encircling arms clutched him tighter, she felt a shift in the jeans he wore, where the obscured zipper of his pants met her own clothes. “Special interest, huh?” she mumbled, sucking in a breath when the Butcher's hands dropped from her back to her ass, squeezing both cheeks firmly and manipulating her movements so the fastening of her own pants rubbed against his denim. “Cooper,” she sighed against his chest, as he held her in place against him, the crotch of his jeans scraping at her layers of clothes, “I don't even have my bed here yet.”
“What makes you think I need a bed,” Cooper whispered back, maneuvering her around to guide her back to the nearest flat surface, one of the recently painted walls. “There's a perfectly good counter in the kitchenette for me to bend you over and-”
“Cooper, we c-”
“Or maybe right here, against the wall-”
“Baby, we have to-”
“The floor's clean, but I don't know if my back can take-”
“Cooper!” Delilah pressed her hands firmly to his chest, just as the Butcher's hands had began to fiddle with the zipper of her jeans, his mouth seeking out her throat, and the little hollow behind her earlobe that always made her that much more pliant to his intentions. “We have to-mmph...” she moaned out as he took more control, and flipped her around to face the wall, the significant bulge beneath his jeans pressed against her through her layers of clothing, his hands back at her hips and manipulating her movements so she rocked back against him. “Cooper...the faster we...the faster we get everything over h-nngh...” her words died in her throat as his hand shoved past the unbuttoned snap of her jeans and the half-descended zipper, and the thin fabric of the panties she wore, the callouses of his fingers brushing pleasantly over her clit, and lower still. “I promise...I promise we can...break in the apartment tonight,” she whimpered out, even as she ground her ass against the crotch of his pants, the feel of his cock pressed against her, and his fingers inside her, making her brain go fuzzier than she could afford on such a short timeline to get her belongings out of her old apartment.
“I'm gonna hold you to that,” Cooper whispered as his fingers, and his insistent hips, stilled.
“You can hold me to anything you want,” she mumbled as he let her turn back around, dragging her own zipper up as Cooper rubbed the tips of his fingers together, slick from her response to his attention, “after we go get my stuff.”
The Butcher was silent for a few moments as he considered her, Delilah straightening her clothes even as she stared at the visible bulge beneath his zipper.
“Alright,” he finally conceded, digging a hand into his pocket to pull out his keys. “Let's go get your stuff.”
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A couple weeks had passed since Cooper had assisted Delilah in moving her worldly possessions into the minuscule apartment, about a month more since the first night she'd visited his home, when all matter of confessions had been made, and suspicions confirmed. The Butcher hadn't expected much to change in the way he felt compelled to act around his fetching, bookseller girlfriend, but the weight that seemed to have slipped from his shoulders that night, nearly nude in his kitchen, Delilah's arms clinging to him as if he would vanish like an apparition, should she let go...he felt free. Or at least, freer. The years he'd spent concealing the darkest of his proclivities from everyone around him, only making them known in the form of the chopped bodies he left in his wake, and the betrayal from his wife, had unquestionably made the monster inside louder, hungrier. But the body of his beloved, willingly pinned between himself and the rumpled sheets, gifting him everything he dared to take, and all the while knowing full well his trail of bodies and blood...the only thing he'd felt any urge for in weeks was her. Cooper knew full well it wouldn't last, the silence of his most violent inclinations, but the Butcher was content to rest, and to bask in the peace and affection of her every embrace.
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The security guard, alone in his office and nearly an hour after the last of the stores had closed, watched not the camera feed from Page Turners, but the live footage of the corridor that ran outside of it, and a certain book store employee that strode along it. Cooper hoped that he had predicted correctly the departure of the last of the mall employees, and that he would find his nocturnal activities successful, and he stood and crossed to the metal door that swung out into the hall, just as Delilah reached the silent food court at the bottom of the still-running escalator. Catching sight of her boyfriend, or rather the distortion his body made to the natural shadows of the wall beyond the security office door, Delilah quickened her step a bit, and produced a translucent bag before Cooper could even speak.
“I snagged the last one on my break,” she explained, as the security guard opened the bag to find a gooey, oversized, icing-drenched cinnamon roll inside. It hadn't taken Delilah much of any time at all to realize his love of bready treats, especially the sweet variety. “I saw you escorting someone down the hall in handcuffs, earlier...I figured you weren't having the best day.”
It did admittedly take Cooper longer than was probably necessary to decide that he should save the sugary pastry for later, and concentrate on his pre-established plans, instead. “Better now, baby, and thank you, but...you really shouldn't be spending your money on-”
“Don't start with-”
“Sorry! Sorry, I know, I said...I said I wouldn't do that anymore,” he admitted, raising his hands a bit in defense. He didn't like her spending money on him, especially with her funds so much tighter, now. He didn't want to give her any more reason to consider additional employment, any more time away from him than he absolutely had to sacrifice. “I just...you're the only sweet treat I need,” he finally insisted, tall and looming as he reached his hands out to grasp her waist, dragging her against his towering frame and stealing a kiss before she could manage to catch up to his words. Drawing away again with a half-smile tugging at his lips, he watched as the annoyance on her features shifted into a slight blush, and an embarrassed eye roll.
“You did not just call me your sweet treat,” she mumbled as she watched him open up the security door behind himself, and enter the office to drop off the sugary pastry.
“Why not?” he retorted, as he stepped out of the little room again and locked the door behind him. “I don't exactly here you complain when I'm eating you up,” he quipped, and she flushed even more, Cooper reaching for her hand and running his thumb over the knuckles as he began to take small strides backwards, encouraging her to join him. “And the way you melt in my mouth like cotton candy,” he continued as Delilah drew closer, her face hidden in the bicep of his sleeve as she allowed herself to be escorted along.
“Cooper, you're embarrassing me,” she mumbled as she walked along side him, unaware of exactly where he planned to take her, but as usual, accepting whatever fate he had in mind for her.
“Embarrassed?” Cooper repeated, glancing along the hallway offshoots they passed, for signs of remaining life. “I don't know why...It's not as if I'm going around and telling other people what makes you squirm.”
“You better not,” she affirmed, grasping his arm tighter as she leaned into his taller, broader frame.
“Never,” Cooper assured as they approached one of the mall's anchor stores, a Macy's that was barely breaking even, financially. “I don't like sharing you,” he admitted, and Delilah mumbled something so quiet he couldn't make it out.
“What was that, sweetheart?” he asked as he crouched down to the metal gate, and unlocked the barrier with one of his numerous keys so they could slip inside the department store. When he rose back to full height and placed his palm against the small of her back, exuding just enough pressure to encourage her into the store, he spoke up again, “I didn't catch that.”
“I said, I'm aware,” she mumbled as his hand drifted up her back to wrap around her shoulder instead. “You're not always the enigma you think you are,” Delilah asserted, glancing around the sparsely lit expanse of the store as they strolled along its recently mopped floor.
“Does it bother you?” Cooper finally asked as they reached the bedding area of the home furnishings department, glancing around in search of a particular display. When she remained silent, he gave her shoulder a light squeeze, their steps drawing to a pause as the security guard located the area he'd scoped out, several days before.
“Probably not as much as it should,” Delilah whispered as Cooper extracted the purse she carried from her hand, and placed it on an empty side table. “But...I don't really like sharing you, either,” she admitted as she watched Cooper shrug off his black, polyester jacket with the word 'Security' screened across the back in vivid yellow. “Cooper...what are we doing here?”
“Hmm?” Cooper made little more than a noise in acknowledgment as he stepped out of his shoes, and placed them in the storage compartment of the varnished table. When he looked back around and saw that she had not mirrored any of his actions, he visibly shrugged instead, sitting down on the edge of the bed, draped with an overpriced comforter. “I just thought it might be fun to have a little rendezvous at work that wasn't in such a cramped, uncomfortable space.”
“A rendezvous,” she repeated, staring at the man before her as he arranged overfilled pillows between his back, and the headboard. “So, like...the security truck,” she offered, and he nodded as he placed his hands behind his head. “Or the security office,” she continued, and his hips adjusted slightly at the recollection of that afternoon. “And you pick a full-size bed...because it's less cramped, and more comfortable?” Thinking back, Delilah realized she hadn't slept on anything smaller than a queen-size bed since before she could legally drink.
“One bed's just as good as another,” Cooper shrugged, extending an arm out when she was finally within reach, and encouraging her up on the bed, and onto his lap.
“Mister 'I don't need a bed-' ” Delilah's words were stifled as Cooper drew her closer, her thighs on either side of his waist as her hands suddenly gripped his shoulders for support, his mouth less than an inch from hers as she felt his mint-freshened breath on her skin.
“Maybe I just like the view,” he rasped as he dipped away from her lips, to a particularly tender area at the base of her throat.
“The view...” she mouthed as one of her hands abandoned his shoulder to card through his chestnut strands, the zipper-pull of her work slacks nudging slightly south from the friction of him grinding up against her straddling body. How could he view anything with...
Her hand still in his hair, his mouth still on her throat and sucking at the sensitive flesh as if he had fangs, Delilah let her head fall back to glimpse what she could behind them, around them...above them. A tiny, flashing red light caught her attention, installed among the ceiling tiles, and with a completely unobscured view of the bed Cooper had dragged her onto. “Cooper?” she questioned aloud, letting out an audible huff when he gripped her clothed hips, and guided the junction of her parted thighs along the bulge of his pants.
“Hmmm?” his throat sounded as he worked his hips to get as much contact as currently possible with his new, favorite 'sweet treat'.
“Are we...hmmmph...are we being recorded?”
Cooper opened his eyes to stare directly at the camera dome protruding from the ceiling, and closed them again as he placed lighter kisses along the edge of her jawline, eventually muttering against her skin, “It appears so.”
“And, uh...mmmff, were you...planning to tell me about that,” Delilah mumbled between breaths as the Butcher's mouth descended on her throat, sucking lightly at the already developing bruise at the base, a remnant of his own mouth's attentions.
“I was getting around to it,” he muttered as his fingers curled beneath the inside of the hem of her shirt, exposing just her midriff, and pausing to meet her heavy-lidded gaze. “Do you wanna stop?” his voice was a whisper, and in what had become a genuine rarity, there was no hint of manipulation behind his question, his tone teetering right on the edge of sincerity. When her lips parted, but no sound came out, and she glanced back at the tiny red light beyond them, he spoke up again, “I would have said something before we actually-”
“And no one else's gonna see us?” Delilah interrupted, and Cooper was silent for a few moments before he answered.
“Absolutely not,” he finally breathed out as he felt her slender fingers at the top button of his shirt, his own hands gripping her thighs and manipulating her along the uncomfortably tight crotch of his pants. “You know I don't like to share you with anyone.” Delilah nodded as she felt the Butcher's roughened fingers ghost back up the front of her body over her layers of clothes, back to her throat, where he cradled her jaw in his hands, his attentive lips drawing kisses from her needy mouth. Her own fingernails scraped down the length of his torso, her smaller hands tugging at the belt buckle situated at the middle of his waist.
You know I'm never letting you go.
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(POST-EPILOGUE STORY) SHORT STORY : A WINTER'S INTERLUDE (final chapter)
Delilah moving into her new apartment🙏 Delilah has her own space🙏 and Cooper does his best to make her happy♥️. Cooper doesn't need to keep Delilah under constant control. She is fascinated and her life is dominated (in the best way) by Cooper the butcher ❣️🔪....Thanks, Cooper, for reminding Delilah that she's special to you and that's what really matters🤩......I'm gonna hold you to that,”....You can hold me to anything you want, after we go get my stuff.”... ❣️🔪 ... Delilah can control this impulse of Cooper, so that he waits a little bit🥴 I don't exactly here you complain when I'm eating you up....and the way you melt in my mouth like cotton candy...I love his cheekiness 🤩 ....She feels embarrassed, but just like his actions, when Cooper tells her it also melts her haha... 🥰I loved this approach to Cooper's character despite his dark side, he also has a new purpose, to be happy with her, to feel loved, special and appreciated by a woman completely, another feeling of peace (apart from the murders) that fills him with life...a security cameras recording them, alluding to how Cooper's relationship/dominance towards her began by watching her through CCTV 👀 but... I believe in Cooper no one sees them now......You know I'm never letting you go....they have built a connection, this is inevitable, they belong to each other♥️🔪♥️............... Thank you so much for finishing this marvelous fic 🩵🙏
A/N : This is the final main chapter of the story. I will posting an epilogue soon. *No Kinks Apply*. Everything is consensual, but Cooper is canon-compliant manipulative. Please read the previous chapters first if you haven't already. Gif is mine.
CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4
(POST-MAIN STORY) SHORT STORY : A WINTER'S INTERLUDE
JOSH HARTNETT MASTERLIST
(( word count ~ 5,400 ))
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Sunday night. Finally.
The evening of their third attempt at a real date had arrived, the last attempt only days before, yet it felt like so long ago. Delilah's whole world had managed to fall apart and reconstruct itself so quickly, but the more she'd thought about it, the more obvious she realized it had been, all along. And here she stood, in defiant disregard of it all, at the front door of her...
Boyfriend still felt so strange to say, though she had mentally considered him as such, long before she'd chanced broaching the identifier out loud. The other title, though, his other title...that felt even less natural, less...real. Calling him that title...it would make it all real. All the things she didn't want to be true. As long as she didn't say anything, as long as she didn't hint that she knew-
Delilah visibly shuddered as the sturdy, wooden door before her swung open, Cooper emerging from inside his house to greet her.
“I thought I heard a car pull up,” he proclaimed with a smile as he reached his hand out to her, encouraging her inside. “I didn't hear a knock, though. Sorry about that,” he apologized, having spent the last few minutes in the kitchen, staring at her indecision via the feed from the camera above his front door.
“I, um...it's okay,” she answered, stepping inside and dragging off the jacket she wore, clingy and damp from the rain showers she'd hoped to outdrive on the way to his house. “I didn't knock, I was, uh...”
“You were what?” Cooper pressed, in a casual tone that didn't translate to his face, as he took her jacket and hung it off his coat rack.
“I...I was just...nervous,” she admitted, twiddling the silver and opal cuff around her wrist, and almost flinching when she felt one of his large hands completely envelop her shoulder, her head tilting to turn and watch him as he stepped around her.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, reaching with his other hand to press rain-dampened strands of auburn out of her face. She was silent for a few seconds as he stared down at her, stared through her, and her own hand finally reached up to grasp his.
“Sometimes,” she confessed, and he held his own silence for a few moments as he studied her.
“You are...You're so honest, Delilah,” he finally answered, and she felt a twinge of guilt. “But I don't wanna make you nervous-”
“It's not...it's not just...you,” she stammered as he released her shoulder, and took more control of the hand she'd grasped his own with, guiding her deeper into the house. “I mean, you know that it's...it's been a while, for me at least, and-”
“It's been a while for me, too,” he reminded, and she glanced back to his face as he sat her down on the couch, her free hand immediately straightening out the skirt of the dress she wore as he joined her on the cushioned furniture.
“Right, I know, and what if you've...what if we've built this up to be-”
“Delilah,” his quiet murmur of her name was enough to silence the dam of her anxieties, threatening to spill over. “I want you here, with me. I want you...with me,” he emphasized. “Do you want me?”
Her lips parted, and closed again, but she finally managed an, “I do,” and Cooper nodded at the assertion.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, his gaze drifting to her partially bare thighs, scarcely obscured by the dress she wore, his free hand venturing forward to give the soft flesh a light squeeze.
“I thought we were gonna have dinner,” Delilah softly reminded, and Cooper's eyes glanced back up to hers, his pupils a bit larger than usual. Fuck, he adored those thighs.
“I thought we might wait until...later...if you aren't too hungry,” he answered, his vision falling back to the bareness of her exposed skin. “I've got an appetite for something else,” he added, and she might have rolled her eyes at his words, is she weren't so captivated by his attentions. “So,” he spoke again, his traveling hand nudging the hem of her dress higher, the callouses that had resulted from the disposal of his 'hobbies' rough against her skin. “Do you trust me?” he repeated.
“I...Of course,” Delilah finally mumbled, and Cooper took the opportunity to lean in closer, grasping her shoulder as his lips mushed against hers, needy.
“And you'll do what I ask? Whatever that happens to be?” he continued, the hand on her thighs readjusting to situate itself in-between, parting her legs with his flexing fingers, and nudging his digits under the rain-damp fabric that clung to her.
“See, it's questions like that-” she began, immediately cut off by his kiss, and his groping hand that had disappeared near-completely below her hemline. When Delilah's hand gathered a fistful of the knit material at his collar, his hidden hand only became more intrusive, his fingertips snagging the edges of the obscured lace that clung tighter than her dress. Still, she managed to create a few inches of distance between their mouths. “Cooper, you...” she took a breath, and gripped his wandering hand with her free one to keep focus. “You can't just kiss me quiet when you don't-”
“Yes, I can,” he insisted, and his hidden fingers curled around the lace at her hip, giving the stretchy garment a little tug. “So...are you gonna do what I ask,” he repeated as he leaned in closer, his hand reappearing and joining the other in grasping both sides of her waist, and maneuvering her onto his lap, where she found herself straddling him, and clinging to his broad shoulders for stability.
“Probably,” she finally admitted, as his hands dropped from her waist to her hips, and he ground up against her through his layers and hers.
“Don't be nervous, sweetheart,” he whispered as he held her in place, and ground the straining crotch of his jeans against her, almost nothing between the scratchy denim and her sensitive flesh. “I won't hurt you,” he continued as he began to roll his hips, and felt her grind against him of her own accord. “But I can't promise I'll let you go.”
“Don't,” she mumbled as she gently rutted against the insistent rise and fall of his clothed hips, clutching at his shoulders as his hands gripped her parted thighs.
“Don't?” Cooper repeated, hesitant, his movement stilling.
“Don't,” she murmured again, reaching down to grasp his large hands with her smaller ones, and encourage him to continue as he pleased, “Don't let me go.”
“I won't,” he answered, his hands reaching up to cup her face as he leaned in to claim more kisses, one of those hands dropping away again as the other weaved into her wavy locks, dragging an opaque piece of cloth from the confines of his pocket. Drawing away from him at the feel of satiny fabric grazing her arm, she watched him present a long, black strip.
“Is that for me?” she asked, hesitant but accommodating when he silently answered her by carefully wrapping it around her head to fully obscure her view. Maintaining his silence, he guided her with his hands to slide back off of his lap, and carefully grasped her when he'd stood as well, whirling her around to lead her further into his home. When he reached the bedroom, he guided her inside, and left her the smallest hint of relief when she did not hear his door close behind them.
“Stay,” he whispered as he took his hands off her, and stepped away to shuffle through a bedside table drawer, drawing out a remote to activate the plethora of LED tea lights he'd placed around the room. Years as a firefighter had left him rather anti-candle. Dropping the remote back inside, he glimpsed something else he'd stashed several weeks before, something he'd nearly forgotten about.
“What are you doing?” Delilah asked as she crossed her arms protectively across her body, as if she weren't still fully clothed. At the question, Cooper glanced away from the metal instrument that glinted back at him from the glow of the tiny, scattered, electric lights.
“Thinking,” he answered vaguely, stepping away from the open drawer and returning to the blindfolded young woman, anxiously standing in the middle of his bedroom. “I can't honestly say I usually give much thought to fashion, but...” he paused as he stepped behind her, his hands palming the sides of her waist, “You look so cute in this little thing,” Cooper continued, gathering the hem of her dress in his hand from behind, and raising it to view the cerulean blue lace it obscured. “Almost seems a shame to take it off,” he mused as one of his hands rose to grasp the zipper pull between her shoulder blades, and drag it carefully down her spine, guiding her feet out of it and placing it on the same side table. “But, I like this too,” he added when he rose back up to full height, glancing along the back of her before stepping around the front to take in the full view.
“I thought you might,” she acknowledged as she felt his hands on her hips again, felt him guide her forward as he backed up toward his bed.
“It kinda matches this,” he mentioned as he careful took hold of her wrist, ghosting his thumb over the opal-encrusted band of silver. “I suppose that was on purpose?” he ventured, and she nodded. “Kinda makes me wonder what you were wearing at the restaurant,” Cooper pondered.
“Something less lucky, obviously,” she mumbled, and he slapped a large hand lightly against a lace-covered cheek, just enough to earn a satisfying noise, and Delilah shuffled closer, reaching for his shoulders to grasp for stability as Cooper's other hand rose to mirror its twin, groping at rough lace and soft flesh.
“I'm sure you'll make it up to me,” she mumbled as he fondled her thighs, dipped his fingers beneath the lace to feel the warmth of her skin against his own. Delilah's hands gripped the collar of his shirt more firmly when the sound of thunder cracking across the sky, miles from Cooper's house, reached both their ears.
“Come here,” Cooper insisted, his hands rising to her waist as he encouraged her to straddle him like she had on the couch, wrapping his arms around her when she relaxed against him, her bent knees on either side of his thighs as he dragged her even closer. “Just relax,” he encouraged as he finally let his own back meet the mattress, Delilah sitting atop his thighs and leaning over him as his fingers combed through her ginger hair.
“I think I'd be more relaxed without this thing,” she mumbled, reaching for the strip of fabric that obscured her view, but Cooper's hand was at her wrist before she could remove it, his thumb ghosting back and forth over her pulse point.
“Wear it for me,” he implored, guiding her hand back to his shoulder, and encouraging her back down to him, “And relax...Just let me take care of you.” With practiced hands, Cooper easily unhooked the vivid blue bra Delilah wore, dropping it to the side of them instead of on the floor, and ran his roughened fingertips along her spine, pressing soft, damp kisses to the bookseller's jaw and throat as she let her body truly rest against his own. When her hands found his mop of silky brown hair and began to card her fingers through it, her hips rocking to life as she adjusted on top of him and began to grind against his jeans, Cooper gripped her thighs to hold her in place, a little groan rising up from his throat. “Slow down,” he whispered, raising up on an elbow to press feathery kisses to her throat. “We'll get there.”
Complying with his guiding hands, Delilah found her back against the sheets, and Cooper hovering over her instead, as he encouraged her toward the center of his oversized bed, plenty of room left in all directions. His lips at her throat, the Butcher's umber eyes eased closed as the young woman beneath him whispered his name. Delilah's slender fingers blindly searched out the hem of his shirt, dragging it off his imposing body, a wordless but appreciative noise escaping her at the feel of his warm, bare skin against her own. Her touch was so careful, Cooper mused, so cautious and purposeful, and trusting to a fault, even as she heard his hand shuffling about in the drawer of the bedside table, oblivious to the straight razor he withdrew from it, silently drawing the blade away from the handle. “Delilah?” he whispered as he watched her seek out his empty hand, weaving her slim fingers between his larger ones.
“Cooper?” she breathed his name in return, the pad of her thumb carefully passing back and forth against his tawny skin.
“Do you trust me?” he repeated what he had implored of her so many times, this night being no exception, and her answer was an almost immediate 'Of course.' “Why?” he questioned aloud, pressing her hand that gripped his against the mattress. The Butcher wasn't even certain of what he expected to hear, what he wanted to hear, but a more satisfying answer could not have been conceived if he'd given her the whole night to ponder.
“Because...I love you,” she whispered into the still air of the silent room. Had she wanted to snatch the words out of the air as soon as she uttered them? Absolutely. But whatever happened, whatever it was he expected, at least she could hold on to the fact that she had been honest. When his silence persisted, though, all her doubts bubbled to the surface. “I know it's only been a few months, and I know some guys freak out when you say that, and I don't know what it is you wanna hear, but...it's true-”
The closed, metal blade smacked against the bottom panel of the drawer, which Cooper shoved back into the table, as he leaned in closer to the anxious body below him, brushing unruly strands of auburn out of the young woman's face and sweeping around to cradle the back of her head as he dropped down to capture her lips, her tongue, her whole damn mouth. He hadn't kissed her so deeply since the night in the parking lot, and their indecent activities on the bench seat of the designated security officer truck, but they also hadn't had a safe opportunity to do much more than kiss. Even the incident in the security office, with his pants around his ankles, and the bookseller on her knees, hadn't lasted more than a minute or so, with the on-duty 'officer' getting a call for his services, before she could resume what she'd initiated.
When he began to abandon her mouth, and she huffed in objection, his lips found her throat instead, suckling at her skin the way she'd protested against on the night of their first kiss, Delilah's free hand fisting in his hair, desperate for more of his touch. Shallow breaths escaped her as his kisses became less intense, but no less insistent, the accumulation of stubble on his chin scraping against her bare skin as his mouth descended her body, forming a straight and determined invisible line that found it's destination at the edge of last piece of modestly clinging to her body. Expecting him to grasp the edges and rid her of the garment, Delilah's hands gripped the sheets and Cooper's silky mane as she felt his short, rough whiskers against her inner thighs, and his lips against the strip of damp lace that separated them.
Delilah's whole body seemed to shudder as she felt his bristly chin pleasantly scrape at the thin fabric that clung to her nethers, the tip of his nose repeating the action in the opposite direction, and his lips mushed tenderly against blue lace. The slender fingers in Cooper's hair tightened to claws at he ran his tongue along the sodden fabric, Delilah's hips rising slightly in the air, away from the bed, to try for more attention from his mouth.
“Cooper...” she huffed as he slowly shook his head back and forth to let his stubble brush at her parted thighs. “Cooper, please...”
He thought briefly to the situation they'd experienced together in the security office, days before, when she'd dropped to her knees at his feet, accepting whatever he offered her. He might have lifted her onto the edge of his desk, and buried everything between her legs that she'd allow him, had they the time. To have her now, gasping at his every graze as he nudged the center of her panties to the side with his nose, hands traveling around to circle her thighs, holding one splayed to the side as the other reached farther north to grasp at a mound of soft flesh. To have her so defenseless, and still so willing, it felt like...like those peaceful moments. Those moments as he watched them take their last, gurgling breaths, and the connection he felt as they expired at his hands. The straight razor felt like a distant, fading memory as he clung tight to the sodden fabric he'd pushed aside, and ran his tongue along her slick, parted folds. “Say it again,” Cooper mumbled as he gripped tighter the stretched fabric, squeezing a bit more tightly the soft breast in his hand.
“Hmm?” a confused noise left her throat, followed by another gasp as she felt the digits at her thigh leave her, only to circle back around, and prod and invade her needy channel.
Something akin to a groan left the Butcher as he curled his fingers inside her, as he slid his tongue along pink, glistening flesh, suckling for just a few seconds at the neglected little bud. “Tell me you love me,” he encouraged. Demanded. Begged.
“I love you,” Delilah whimpered out as Cooper stroked at her spongy walls, flicked and swirled his tongue over the sensitive little button that unlocked so many delicious noises. “I love you,” she breathed as her hips began to slowly rut against him, his hand falling from her naked chest to grip her thigh, groping the softness of it as he held it to one side, content to lap and suck and worship at the alter of her need, to relish in the trust she offered up so freely. Cooper's grip on her thigh tightened, his fingers working her throbbing insides as his scruff, his lips and chin, became coated in her essence, his attentions unceasing as he felt her walls convulse around his digits, her fingers like claws in his silky strands once more as she humped against his fervent mouth. Her cries were just as intoxicating, just as shameless and satisfying as those he'd worked to claim, weeks earlier, in the parking lot of the mall, against the bench seat of the truck. And her kiss was just as eager and needy when he crawled back up her body, the taste of her in his mouth as his tongue infiltrated hers, Delilah's hands still in his hair and unconsciously massaging and scratching at his scalp, until he finally withdrew.
“Are you okay?” the Butcher softly asked as he crawled off the bed just long enough to rid himself of the decidedly excessive amount of clothing that still clung to his body. Her answer was a subtle 'mmmph' as she let her head fall in the direction of his voice, the strip of black cloth still in place, though only just, the whole of her body disheveled and weak from his attentions.
“Come back,” she finally beckoned in an already hoarse voice, pushing herself up on her elbow to stare at nothing.
“I'm right here,” Delilah heard his whispered voice, felt his hands on her legs and the shifting of the mattress under his returned weight, Cooper finally ridding her of the panties that had snapped back into place. Gripping her thighs and wrapping them around his own waist, Cooper felt for the first time her slick juices on his neglected cock, felt the arousal he'd inspired in her coat the head, and her legs that he'd wrapped around himself tightened as he lined up against her just right. “What happened to slow?” he whispered, his words morphing into a throaty groan as her hands blindly sought out his hips, and greedily urged him inside.
“You said slow...I'm tired of waiting,” she huffed as he sheathed more of himself in her welcoming heat, pulled back only an inch or two, and buried himself withing her, completely. “I'm tired of...of-unh...” she huffed as she felt his body draw closer, as he leaned nearer to take in her features in the artificial flicker of the electric tea lights.
“Tired of what?” he mumbled as his hips began to pump, slow and steady, Delilah's hands suddenly leaving his tawny skin to reach for the blindfold, pausing only for a moment when her fingertips met the satiny material, waiting for him to react, and dragging it off when he made no attempt to keep it in place.
“Tired of wearing this damn thing for...for one,” she mumbled as she tossed the cloth onto the floor and out of sight, glancing around the room she'd yet to actually view. She couldn't not notice the abundance of tiny, flickering lights in the otherwise dark bedroom. “Are those electric candles?”
Cooper glanced around as well, his hips slowed to a pause, shrugging his broad shoulders as he hovered above her. “I was going for ambiance,” he muttered, returning his gaze to the young woman below him.
“With battery-powered tea lights?” she mused, letting her view recenter on his hovering form.
“I have a thing about fire safety,” he mumbled, mildly defensive, and he watched her parted lips purse slightly at his words. “What?”
“...Nothing,” she finally whispered as she stared up at him, reaching to brush his disheveled hair out of his face, just for it to immediately fall forward again, creating extra shadows across his features. “It's nice,” Delilah added as she gave her surroundings another quick once-over. “Definitely more romantic than the security truck.”
A smile finally returned to Cooper's mouth as his hips snapped back to life, and he watched Delilah's eyes flutter closed as she gasped, her hands reaching for his waist, his hips, wrapping her legs tighter around him as she urged him even deeper. “As I recall,” Cooper whispered as he pumped himself inside her, “You had a pretty damn good time inside that truck.”
“I was...coerced,” she mumbled as her hands searched out his exposed rear, gripping his cheeks and beckoning him as deep as her body would comfortable allow.
“And yet...” he whispered back, not even a hint of denial at her assertion, “You show up here, so willingly...looking so...” His words and his thoughts were fragmented as his hips smacked the bottoms of her thighs, as she groped at his ass appreciatively.
“Looking so what?” she hedged, suddenly very aware of what a mess her hair must look like from the blindfold and the pillow, the new dress she'd bought that was outside of her price range enough to guarantee a week or two of instant ramen noodle dinners, the floral fragrance she'd sprayed on her skin that she hoped he didn't find too juvenile or-
“Perfect,” Cooper breathed as his head hung in the collective shadows of the tiny electric lights, his eyes nearly imperceptible in the umbra of his brow. Before Delilah could protest the assertion, Cooper spoke up again, simultaneously firm and comforting, “Perfectly mine.”
🔪 🔪 🔪
It was a crack of thunder, and the flash of lightning not far behind, that woke Delilah up, naked and surrounded by crumpled sheets, the mattress otherwise empty. Reaching out across both sides, finding herself suspiciously alone, she pushed herself up to a seated position, holding the linens to her chest. She heard the plops of rain against the window, and nothing else. The only indication of life outside herself presented in the faint glow of a lamp, beyond the bedroom door that was only open by a few inches. Fruitlessly glancing around once more – for what, she wasn't quite sure – her bare feet against the floor, she let out an anxious breath and willed herself to cross the room, to the light.
“Cooper?” she managed through a sleep-hoarse voice, squinting with dry eyes that she rubbed at absently, glancing around until she found a tall form in a chair at the far end of the room, dressed only in the boxer-briefs he'd stripped off earlier, and nothing else. The unease she'd felt when she'd woken up in an empty bed seemed well-placed as she observed the stern look on his face. Delilah stood just beyond the bedroom doorway she'd exited, waiting for him to speak, because she had yet to decide what she would say when this moment came.
“How long?” Cooper stated flatly, staring into her eyes, indifferent to the visual of her body barely covered in the sheet she'd wrapped around herself.
“How long since-”
“Don't do that. You know what I mean,” he cut in, his brows raising as if to punctuate his words.
Delilah's gaze drifted to the locked front floor, her fingers fidgeting with the cloth in her hands, visibly flinching when the sound of the protesting chair reached her ears, as Cooper shifted in his seat. “After the truck...before the security office.”
That explains a lot, Cooper silently reflected, his shoulder twitching uncomfortably, and another noise of protest from the chair sounded as his back relaxed into the cushioning, running his fingers absently over his stubbled chin, the slightest hint of a twitch at the corner of his eye. “Have you told anyone?”
“Of course not,” Delilah quickly blurted out, her vision finally rising to meet his once more, his eyes nearly black in the dimmest setting of the lamp at his side. “And, I...I'm not going to,” she stated, hoping that she sounded more secure than she felt.
“You're not,” Cooper spoke, not so much a question than a simple statement, and she shook her head, her eyes closing briefly, and finding his gaze again as soon as they opened once more. “What gave me away?”
Delilah ran her tongue over parched lips nervously before lifting up one arm, displaying the familiar bracelet that adorned it. “The news did a story on that missing local woman, and they showed some photos...and she was wearing a bracelet that looked an awful lot like this one.” When Cooper gave the slightest nod of acknowledgment, she swallowed, throat dry and uncomfortable, and continued. “I'd, uh...I'd taken a picture of you...when you weren't paying attention, but...I guess you already know that.” Cooper nodded, glancing to a phone that was not his own, atop the table to his side, by the lamp. “I didn't...I took it for me, just to have. I hadn't planned on using it for anything, but...when I saw that bracelet, I did a reverse image search of your picture, and...a lot of things suddenly made...much more sense.”
Cooper took a deep breath and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the cushion, his hands flexing, his bottom jaw shifting back and forth, his shoulder twitching uncomfortably. The creak of movement against the hardwood floor led his eyes to open again, and he was mildly surprised to see that the young woman before him had stepped closer, not toward the bedroom or the door.
“I...I didn't go looking on purpose...it just kind of happened, and I...” Delilah's steps came to an end as she stood before him, in arms reach but moving no closer. “I won't tell...I don't even want to.”
“What do you want?” Cooper's voice remained cold, but there was the slightest hint of wavering as he finally looked back up to her eyes, saw the gleam of tears dotting the corners, a frown threatening the corners of her mouth.
“I...I wanna rewind the last ten minutes...and go back to pretending that I don't know,” she managed, swallowing uncomfortably and gathering the sheets tighter as she noticed them loosening from her steps across the floor. “I don't know why you picked me, or what your intentions were for me...but, I knew when I walked through your door tonight, that I was stepping into the wolf's den, and that I might not leave again, alive...and I didn't care.” Confession sufficiently spilled, she directed her gaze to the floor, as if awaiting the Butcher's judgment. She was surprised to feel the warmth of his hand when it reached out for one of her own. “I meant it when I said you were the only good thing in my life, and...I don't wanna give that up. I don't wanna give you up.”
The hand grasping Delilah's doubled and she finally looked up again to find Cooper watching her, his gaze still as intense as it often was, but the iciness she'd been confronted with seemed to be thawing. “Are you thirsty?” he asked suddenly, and she took a few steps back as he rose out of the chair and to his feet.
“Parched,” she mumbled, as he stepped away from the chair and proceeded into the kitchen, Delilah's bare feet treading behind him. She watched from a few feet away as he drew a couple of water bottles out of the refrigerator and handed her one, unscrewing the cap of his own and taking a swig as she did the same.
“With all the noise you were making, I'm surprised you can...” Cooper's voice trailed off as slender arms wrapped around him, a mess of tousled auburn hair obscuring most of his view of the young woman who buried her face against his chest. She was relieved to feel his larger, stronger arms encircle her, his tanned skin against the pale flesh of her back, the sheet she'd clung to barely held up betwixt their embrace.
“I know how ridiculously foolish this is, for me to...but I wanna be with you,” she murmured against his tawny skin, the feel of his large hands grazing gently over her shoulder blades, the small of her back, giving her comfort.
“I'm not going to stop,” he whispered as he leaned forward, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, the perfume on her skin nearly rubbed away from his insistent touch.
“I'm not asking you to...I just wanna go back to pretending to be...blissfully ignorant,” she mumbled against the heat of his skin, tilting her head back to look up to the dark pools of his gaze.
“You're sure?” he asked, one of his hands abandoning her back to cup her jaw, his thumb stroking her chin, his eyes searching for the most minute hesitation, of deception in her frame, her deep green eyes, and finding absolutely none.
“It's pretty much all I've been thinking about...I'm sure,” she confirmed, and his kiss was her reward, his other hand dropping away from her back to snatch the sheet from between them, and encircle her again, tighter, as he held her naked body firm to his nearly bare form, her softness flush to his powerful frame. Her hands fisted in his silky hair when he lifted her up from the floor, seating her bare flesh against the counter and immediately closing the distance between them, his waist between her parted thighs. Their kisses were impassioned, tongues exploring as if it were the first time, lips mushing together needfully, but the intensity of their mouths' embrace quickly calmed to a simmer, with slower kisses, more tender, gentler than either estimated they actually deserved. “I...” Delilah began, interrupted by Cooper's lips, soft but insistent, and her slender fingers pushed through his hair, guiding the falling strands away from his eyes as he granted a few inches of space between them. “I...I accept you.”
I thought it was great that Cooper blindfolded Delilah. It was like a way for him to make sure she trusted him entirely.. she is practically putting her hopes & dreams, her life in his hands.......My goodnees, their first time in a special and romantic way and Cooper is so meticulous and at the same time so erotic with this touch of lust and tenderness, he not only makes her body vibrate, but also shudder her mind and soul as Cooper said, perfectly mine ♥️😭... Delilah accepts Cooper... of course (she's madly in love with him) and although she didn't know for sure what would happen that night (stepping into the wolf's den)Deep down in her heart, .she feels that his feelings and protectiveness towards her are genuine.........(although Cooper can pretend) his feelings are getting out of control, he is also in love with her🥹♥️she also needed to know because she is so perceptive and had doubts about Cooper's life. (she told him, a lot of things suddenly made...much more sense.)now she feels more secure about accepting him, regardless of his dark side, Now, in a way, this is a new beginning for their relationship🥹🙏♥️
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