#let the bbys sleep

[moriaarts]

Omega and Echo reunion at the rebel base c:

Saw ppl freaking out that Echo isn’t with the bad batch at the end but i offer you this: Echo is a workaholic and was absolutely the only reason Hunter let Omega go off on her own to rebel.

Echo: Thought I told you to stop growing, tooka.

Omega: As soon as you stop gettin’ old, ruug’jag (old man)

[gregoryeddiesgoldchain]

so pleased to see we’re continuing the manny is fine and sweet agenda

[mihaelkeehl]

Taking 10 Benadryl so I can summon Beyond Birthday instead of the hatman and ask about his day

[greeksorceress]

cregan stark actually manages to make a good first impression in aemond’s demanding eyes.

the northern youth is as tall and as broad as his father and the rest of their kin, not older than aemond for more than a couple of years but already a man in the court’s account. the stark heir is also polite and honourable, just as they had expected, and he treats royalty and service with humility and grace. 

on top of all of that, cregan is a prodigy when it comes to swordsmanship, knocking on their backs three knights in a row the first time he’s invited to the training yard. 

so, it’s safe to assume that aemond would take a liking to him, finally meeting someone who he can consider an almost equal in skills and hard-work. 

it doesn’t take long for aemond to notice that he’s not the only one impressed by the stark. 

lucerys, who used to pester aemond for his attention and time, now spends his mornings and afternoons trailing after the older male like a little duck, utterly and childishly enamoured with the stark’s abilities and stories. 

aemond’s liking towards cregan considerably dampens after this realisation. he makes himself busy by his own and counts down the days for the northmen’s departure.

he doesn’t understand lucerys’ eagerness, to be honest. yes, cregan might be worth of being called a decent man, good-natured and skilled, but he wasn’t that impressive. after all, he was just a common man from the north, he didn’t have the old valyria blood of the targaryens, nor had the dragons or the power. 

what was a wolf to a dragon, anyways? aemond bitterly questions lucerys’ poor choices, purposely ignoring the voice that tells hims that he doesn’t have a dragon either.

much to aemond’s dismay, lucerys does seem very interested in the wolves. he asks about the lands and about the ice, about the castle and about the wall, but his questions always circle back to the damned animals.

is it true your woods are ten thousand years old? are wolves as loyal as dogs? can you trust them just as much? has it ever been so cold in winterfell that even you couldn’t stand it? what do wolves usually eat? do you feed them yourself? have you ever mounted one? do you rely on them when you go hunting or fighting? 

it’s disgusting how lucerys wastes his time in such insignificant matters. 

and then, on the third day of the northmen’s visit, aemond finds himself reading by the window in the third floor of maegor’s holdfast, hidden behind rows and shelves full of books in the most secluded part of the library. he likes coming here, because nobody seems to recall this little spot exists, a nd he likes to be left alone.

happy screech coming from the training yard makes him look away from the lines he was trying to memorise and he peers over the window.

there, lucerys and cregan stark seem to be sparring, but they’re not. they’re circling each other, using the wooden swords to jokingly poke more than to hit, and lucerys is laughing his little heart out as cregan lightly smacks his thigh with a smile. 

aemond closes his book with a loud smack and runs down to the yard, nor bothering to contain his fuming. 

as soon as he’s in the same space as them, he marches towards lucerys and grunts at him “weren’t you sick?”

it’s what he has said when aemond asked him to come to te library. that his tummy hurt and that he wanted to take a nap. 

lucerys has the decency to look ashamed. it does nothing to quell the unexplainable ire bubbling in his blood. “i felt better after my sleep! i was looking for you, but i couldn’t find you!” 

aemond looks at lucerys’ flushed cheeks, unrelenting, “hm.”

of course, cregan stark, the noble northern that seems to have taken with grace and mirth the position of lucerys’ guardian and protector, steps in.

“it’s true, my prince. he was looking for you in the training yard and i happened to come across him, so i invited him to a friendly spar. prince lucerys is nothing short of talented, so we got a bit caught”

lucerys looks up at the northern heir, doe eyes glassy and wide as if he was contemplating salvation itself, and it makes aemond’s lips curl in a snarl. 

“lucerys doesn’t like training, he always throws a fit when he’s asked to”

lucerys glares at him and aemond glares right back, daring the youngest boy to refute his words. 

cregan beats him to it.

“well, why don’t we train together then, my prince? let’s work hard so we can make prince lucerys feel fonder towards sparring after seeing us!”

everything seems to get back to normal after that. cregan and him spare together and lucerys cheers for him more than he does for cregan. the resentment slowly dissipates as cregan and him clash their wooden swords against each other’s, and aemond decides he had just been in a weird mood before.

jacaerys and aegon join them at some point, and cregan and aegon team against him and jacaerys. it’s fun, much more fun than their regular training.

lucerys claps loudly for him when aemond and jacaerys win over the older boys —their loss was completely on aegon, but it matters little to aemond if he won because of his own abilities or the lack of such from his opponent when lucerys looks at him with the stars in his eyes that the northern lord was taking for himself a while ago. 

they return back to the castle, their walk animated by the nonsensical talk of aegon and ajacerys over the stories of the tapestries hanging by the walls of the corridors.

“this one is about maelor I, when he lost his right shoe and sent a party to look for it to the forest!”

“and this one if about visenya, she’s about to dress her dragon in a gown and take it to a ball!”

cregan merely snorts, amused at their antics. lucerys, however, the innocent fool he is, looks at aegon and jacaerys in awe, nodding along their ‘lessons’. aemond chuckles at this, for he knows the maesters are going to have a rough time taking these thoughts out of lucerys’ head. 

then, lucerys turns to look at him, as if to corroborate their words, and aemond’s chest tightens with pride. he relishes in the trust, and drinks from that unsullied admiration whenever lucerys checks on him after aegon and jacaerys spit yet another insane conjeture. 

when they reach a tapestry that represents the crypt that was built three hundreds of years ago in hopes of imitating the one in winterfell, aegon grins like a madman. 

“and this is the best one yet to come! behold their sex fest in the dungeons!”

aemond grimaces. no matter what it is, aegon must always ruin it with his disrespect and blatant lack of manners. 

“It’s a crypt,” aemond corrects, “they wanted to built one as the one in winterfell, but decided against it in the last moment”

“really?” lucerys asks, awed at the explanation.

“yes,” confirms the stark, “we’re very proud of it. i like to think of it as the heart of our home”

“i guess it’s similar to the dragon pit for the targaryens,” offers aemond, “it’s the heart of our own home.” then, he turns to look at lucerys. “their crypt was built little after the castle of winterfell. all the starks who have perished rest within its tunnels”

cregan intervenes at this with a smile, trying to soften the commentary. “actually, my prince, the crypt was built much before the castle, after the long night, which is accounted to have happened around eight thousands of years ago. and technically, it’s not the burial place of all starks. burial sites extend beyond the walls into unprotected land, where many of my ancestors perished while fighting against the white walkers. their tombs do not hold names, but we know they’re in there” 

aemond tries no to make much of it. he bites his tongue and waits for the vitriol to slow down his throat before humming. his annoyance flares higher when lucerys mouth turns into a perfect O, wonderment and affection evident in his demeanour. 

aemond hated it. he hated hated hated hated it.

later, when dinner time comes, lucerys begs cregan to sit by his left side, jutting his lips out and everything. aemond looks at lucerys’ pout from the other side of the table and feels his teeth clank in irritation. 

he forces himself to eat, trying to diminish his discomfort and willing himself to stay put with the promise of flying to his rooms as soon as dinner is over. 

he’s doing a pretty decent job at it when lucerys’ excited voice resonates over the clinking of the glasses and cutlery and the uninteresting conversation of adults.

“cregan explained a lot of things about the north today!” lucerys chirps animatedly at Rhaneyra, who sits by the boy’s other side cooing at him. “he is so smart, mother! he’s even smarter than aemond!”

aemond cannot stomach any more bite, nor he can stomach the words. 

cregan grins at lucerys and ruffles his curls with affection, and that’s all he needed.

he excuses himself under the pretence of being sick and slams the doors to his chambers after him. 

[flaming-toads]

I'm a no good rotten liar! I decided to spend more time on the drawing and I'm so glad I did!!!

[ghost-inthe-hall]

It's over for me 🥹🥹

[opens-up-4-nobody]

:-P

[rox-of-iu]

heads up i finally scrambled together enough brain power and caught up with cultivate and i am not going to be normal about it and im going to make it everyone elses problem <33

[thelostgetfound-artemis]

...the more I get to know you, I think...you are the nice one.

[sparkly-skies]

3am PMS Vse Kar Vem feelings are that I love my friends so so much and I miss them and I'm lonely because they all live at home, in Vienna, or otherwise away and also busy with their own lives and their mostly stupid boyfriends and I'm shit at socialising here because the chats at uni, no matter how nice they are, can't make up for having deep connections with friends and I don't know what kind of crack Bojan and Kris put into VKV but that line about how nothing hurts when you're in [their/someone's] arms is killing me right now, because I have experienced this by now, how everything might be awful and you're struggling to hell and back but everything is less bad and more managable, and you might even be able to relax and forget about your worries for a while, when you're with your special person/people, in a hug or just next to each other not touching at all; so now that I know that feeling of genuinely feeling 100% comfortable and at ease and dare I say at home with someone, it hits even harder when I feel lonely and alone on bad days

[theinfinitedivides]

Oh Jae: Han byeonhosanim. will he be alright?

Do Young, fresh off of his inauguration as head of the Shinnam Ferry business: how did you feel when you first killed someone? except for some extraordinary cases... you change a lot, don't you?

*cuts to Dong Soo having nightmares from the deepest circle of hell*

[deus-ex-mona]

same energy tbh

[dutybcrne]

I love the idea of Kae having this (1) particular stuffy he carried around with him everywhere as a kid. Maybe it was the first gift ever given to him by the Ragnvindrs or even by Addie, and his heavy attachment and expecting it to vanish if he didn’t always have it on hand had him toting it around everywhere.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Post Tension | Charles Leclerc x McLaren! Reader

Summary: Back in the same country, Charles realises that the most important thing isn't winning; it's that he was wrong.

Warnings: Swearing, female reader, Verstappen! Reader. Tooth-rotting fluff.

This is the final part!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Main Masterlist

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

YourUserName just posted

liked by arthur_leclerc, kellypiquet and others

YourUserName something in the orange tells me we're not done

7,956 comments

User 1 excuse me, miss thing?!?!

User 2 not miss verstappen posting this on media day when charles and her were spotted in the background of each other's interviews

francisca.cgomes that silhoutte pic is serving 🔥

User 3 just me or does that bear have a ferrari hoodie on

User 4 he is not the love of your life. he is literally just a guy. hit him with your car

→ User 1 nah 'cause does anyone else think charles would run her off the track if she got ahead of him again

→ User 5 wtf that's his girlfriend? he wouldn't try and hurt her

→ User 6 he did push max in a puddle once

lilymhe @ alex_albon why don't you buy me this stuff

→ alex_albon because you don't support McLaren

→ YourUserName excuse me?!?! what is this betrayal

→ lilymhe @ YourUserName i can explain

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

User 7 mum and dad putting those cheating rumours to rest

User 8 y/n a stronger woman than me because i would've keyed his car for implying i was sleeping with my teammate

→ User 9 actually it was arthur who implied that

→ User 10 don't drag baby leclerc into this. he was fighting in the trenches alongside us for his otp

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

scuderiaferrari just posted

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and others

scuderiaferrari P4 and P8. A strong weekend for the tifosi 💪

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

6,459 comments

User 9 i can't decide what i want to ride more

User 10 scoring some points in azerbaijan. well done, team

charles_leclerc why are you not posting the photos of me being #1 wag

→ YourUserName because this account doesn't post papaya, liefje

→ charles_leclerc no excuse

→ lilymhe because you are not #1 wag, clearly i am the only wag for @ YourUserName

→ charles_leclerc defamation

→ YourUserName @ lilymhe you tell 'em, bby

→ alex_albon i leave you alone for two seconds and you're stealing my girlfriend again

User 11 be still my beating heart

mclaren just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and others

mclaren P3 and P5. roll on the points for team papaya (ft mclaren's #1 wag)

tagged: YourUserName

7,321 comments

mclaren we apologise for interrupting your regularly scheduled papaya posts with a splash of red but you'll never guess who this racer was looking at to make him smile like that

→ maxverstappen1 sickening

→ charles_leclerc i am honoured to be awarded such a prestigious title by team mclaren

→ landonorris does this mean i can stop pretending to like y/n now?

→ charles_ leclerc @ landonorris no

→ YourUserName @ landonorris no. you're my emotional support pookie

User 11 so proud of our papayas. they did so good this weekend

User 12 i'd let y/n hit me with her car

liked by charles_leclerc

victoriaverstappen couldn't be prouder of you! 💕

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by victoriaverstappen, kellypiquet and others

maxverstappen1 a disappointing dnf but very pleased for the less-famous verstappen 🧡

8,066 comments

redbullracing still made us proud. we'll come back stronger in france

kellypiquet well done y/n. p was cheering you on

→ YourUserName tell her i'm coming over for a pizza party soon! 🥰

YourUserName i swear he loves me really, guys

→ charles_leclerc well he threatened to run me off the track if i didn't fix things so i'd say he does

→ maxverstappen1 for legal reasons, this is a joke

→ YourUserName ah, so that's why you apologised. not because of your undying love for me

landonorris feel like that should say the more talented verstappen

liked by YourUserName, charles_leclerc

danielricciardo don't let this fool you. the man was close to tears when y/n was p1 with just one lap to go

→ danielricciardo and then cried when her tire burst

→ danielricciardo and then cried when she finished p3

→ maxverstappen1 i'll sue you for defemation

→ User13 the Grid seemed to have learned a new word this week

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

YourUserName just posted

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others

YourUserName ik houd van je

tagged: charles_leclerc

6,124 comments

charles_lecerlc je sais

→ YourUserName never going to let me forget that one, are you

→ charles_leclerc no

→ maxverstappen1 no

→ danielricciardo no

→ landonorris no

→ arthur_leclerc no

→ pierregasly no

→ victoriaverstappen no

→ lilymhe no

YourUserName how about everybody get off my dick

→ YourUserName my only friends here are the lovely ladies thirsting over my hot boyfriend with me

→ User 14 you tell 'em, honey

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others

charles_lecerlc as the people on twitter say, i would let y/n hit me with her car

8,593 comments

maxverstappen1 my eyes 🤮

→ charles_leclerc look away! i was going to block you for this

→ maxverstappen1 block me forever

YourUserName wow, not even a tag.

→ charles_leclerc everyone knows who you belong to, mon amour

→ YourUserName yeah, the guy who invented ice cream

→ landonorris @ charles_leclerc at least you know what to do if the racing thing doesn't work out

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Thank you for all the support shown on this series. I never expected such a response when I posted my silly little fic.

I've had so much fun making these. I have a few more ideas coming up but not loads so if you have any, please do request and I'll try my best to do them justice! <3

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Tag list: @mehrmonga @luvsforme @lemon-lav @missenclod @halleest @formula1mount @k4marina @evie-119 @letmeseeyougotowork @sleepybrokenmelle @eiaaasamantha @tinyhrry @janeholt3 @allywthsr @callsignwidow @raizelchrysanderoctavius @prudyhoo @valentinanappipage @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @delululeclerc @e-nonsense @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @butterfliesflyaroundmymind @bloodyymaryyy @kqliie @lifeless-firefly @woozarts @silverxxs-world @personwhoisther @eugene-emt-roe @anthonykatebridgerton @qualitygiantshoepsychic @entr4p3 @carpediem241108 @forevercaffeinated-lee @xyzstar @theendofthematerialgworl @geniusalpaca @chfiosr

[phantom-curve]

I’ve been awake since 3 am and I am being so brave about it

[ghoulphile]

wish you'd make me cry | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.3k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, dom!cooper, frottage, sitting missionary, dirty talk, degradation kink, pet names, teasing, dacryphilia, bareback, drug/chem use (jet), shotgunning, high sex ➥ summary | "You’re such a needy fucking brat." :3c ➥ notes | drabble (that's no longer a drabble lol) request for @tearueful, thank you bby!! this one really got away from me... i had to stop myself from writing lol. un-beta'd atm. masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Setting up camp for the night in an abandoned warehouse, you and Cooper wait out a radstorm that blows in off the horizon. Because while he loves sitting outside with a smoke, soaking in the rads until he’s buzzing with frenetic energy, you don’t feel like hunting down RadAway tomorrow.

It’s quiet apart from the distant sound of super mutants and ferals roaming the city, the sporadic roar of thunder, and rain tinging off the sheet metal roof. There’s still hours left until daylight, and it doesn’t seem like the volatile weather will break soon.

Unfortunately, you’ve read all the Grognak comics you could get your grubby hands on three times over, and there’s not much else to pass the time besides scuff your boot along the concrete floor, and pluck at a stray thread hanging off your tattered sleeping bag.

Meanwhile, Cooper lounges on his side, unbothered. His hand - bare for once - props up his head, the unscarred skin of a commandeered digit stark against angry rad burns and ropey scars. Between the knuckles of his other hand, he rolls a vial of chem over and over in a mesmerizing flick of deft fingers.

A lantern sputters between you as the old battery struggles to keep it lit. Its jaundiced glow banishes the thick darkness; a fuzzy halo of light that elongates shadows and deepens the cuts of his face.

You kiss your teeth, and say, “Hey, you got any more Jet?”

Lazy eyes slide towards you. A hairless brow quirks. “And if I did,” he asks, the vial pausing between his fingers, “why you wanna know?”

“Dunno, I’m bored… wanna get high?”

“Well, shit,” he whistles, bares his teeth. A low, crackling laugh rumbles from his chest. “Why the fuck didn’t you ask sooner.”

You shrug and crack a knuckle.

To be honest, the idea hadn’t occurred to you at first. Now that it has, anticipation curls low in your belly. Not only has it been a long, long time since you last got high (the sensation a hazy, half-remembered dream of fuzzy warmth and whirling thoughts), you know Cooper always carries a top-notch stash.

The little chem fiend, you think fondly.

“So,” you prompt. “Wanna get high together or what?”

“Sure as shit, darlin’. Let’s party.”

He settles against the pockmarked wall beside you with a soft grunt, the grit of concrete digging into his back. Thigh to thigh, his body is a rad warm line of heat. A bloom of suffocating heat in the otherwise biting chill of a wasteland night. Gunpowder and smoke tickle your nose when he leans over to rifle through his bag, leather creaking.

Muted, mellow; everything fades into a silent companionship as you pass the red inhaler between you. With every puff, whorls of smoke curl from your mouths until a murky gray cloud hovers in the air; defining the edges of your crafted universe.

The acrid vapor of chem burns its way through your lungs and into your bloodstream. A bitter taste coats your fattened tongue, lips tingling as your palm smothers little coughs. A flood of static rushes down your nerve endings, sends your head spinning.

As your vision blurs, the tension leeches from rounded shoulders with a bone weary sigh. And with every slow clicking blink, colors spark to life in a distorted kaleidoscope. Head lolling to the side, you watch through heavy eyes as Cooper rattles the inhaler and takes a shallow hit.

When he exhales, little tendrils of smoke caress the plains of his cheek. Dance along the hollow nasal ridge. “Almost out.” He grunts, your fingers brushing when he passes the cartridge back. “Go on, now. Finish it.”

The kind gesture (for him) touches you.

Then a faraway thought flutters.

Snags - settles into a nebulous desire.

And before you can second guess yourself, a rumble of thunder shakes the building. Wipes away the last of your common sense, and reservations. After all, why not? He was nice enough to share. You can too.

To his credit, Cooper doesn’t startle when you slink into his lap - not that you expect him to, even without being chem-addled. He tracks your movements from beneath a heavy brow bone, the dark Nuka Cola of his eyes glittering like shattered glass in the wane light.

“Heh, this that kinda party then, darlin’?” he asks once you settle, your thighs draped over his hips and your ass flush with his crotch. “‘Cuz you’ll be wanting ta extricate yourself if it ain’t.”

—Before I do it for you.

Humming, you dip forward until your breasts brush over the wide expanse of his chest. Interest flickers to life behind your navel; cinders cracking and popping along your spine. While you’d never considered Cooper a sexual availability beforehand (what with his never-ending search for family), the laden weight of his gaze as it pauses on your chin before dropping lower sings through your blood.

Kickstarts your heart into a galloping stutter that thuds against your ribcage as longing hooks behind your navel, tugs sudden and sharp. The world spins.

Maybe, you think, peering at him from beneath the fan of your lashes. Maybe…

“Pervert,” you murmur, biting down on a small smile.

The knife-sharp smirk falls from his lips faster than a comedown from Psycho when your fingertips ghost over the curve of his jaw, turning his head towards you. Like this, you share breath, the scant space between you thrumming with energy.

So close you can see flecks of gold in the amber whiskey of his eyes.

Your forehead brushes over his; the rough drag of gnarled skin sending a shiver through your limbs. “Let’s share the last hit. S’only fair.”

Pausing, he considers you for several long moments.

His gaze bounces from yours to the playful curve of your mouth and back. A small eternity passes like this. And then - when you’re about to crawl away to lick your wounded pride - the most imperceptible of nods grants his assent.

There’s a hiss of aerosol, a lung burning inhale, and then you’re exhaling into the open gash of his mouth.

Wisps of smoke dance off your tongue onto his, the bow of your lips glancing off the swell of his top lip as you squirm closer. You feed him chem in a slow, steady stream until all the air has left you.

He groans - a wounded, low-throated sound.

Your eyes flutter open to find him already staring, his iris a thin ring around the Blackhole of his wide blown pupils. Hooded, hungry: a caged predator. You lick your lips, and in doing so, flick your tongue over his.

Your stomach swoops, “I --”

“You’re such a needy fuckin’ brat, y’know that, sweetheart?”

Whether it was an apology or some other retort stuck to the back of your teeth like hard candy, you’ll never know because in the next moment a rough hand knocks the Jet out of your hand. The inhaler cracks against the concrete with a plastic smack before skidding off into the darkness.

A burning palm curls around your wrist, calloused fingers digging into your fluttering pulse point. “Hey — hngg!”

He yanks you close, and you taste the violence in his kiss.

Harsh lips map out the softness of yours as teeth pinch and roll until your mouth is a swollen mess of tender flesh and smeared spit. Keeping up with the frenzied scrape of his tongue and the deep pulls of his kisses is like trying to weather a hurricane or fight off a Yao Guai with a single bullet.

“W-Wait,” you gasp, fingers twined through the lapels of his duster. “I don’t --”

“Shut up,” Cooper growls, worrying the swell of your bottom lip until a bead of blood bubbles to the surface. He sucks it away with a stifled moan, his hips kicking up against the plush of your ass.

“Shut the fuck up right now. You know what you was doing - trying ta act innocent when you’ve been gaggin’ for it.”

Flustered, you pull back, “No, that’s not true!”

It’s hard to keep your balance with chem pumping through your veins, and you sway to the side. The only thing keeping you upright is the bruising grip Cooper has on your wrist. “I haven’t been — you’re wr-rong.”

He spits out a mean spirited chuckle. “If that’s what you need ta tell yourself, sweetheart.” A critical eye drags down the pathetic sight you make, crumbled as you are in his lap. “But I know the truth. I felt you looking - pantin’ after me like a bitch in heat.”

“...”

Panic grips you by the throat, your pulse thundering against the thumb he strokes along the curve of your shoulder. You should’ve known better.

Of course, he’d notice.

He was The Ghoul after all - best bounty hunter from this coast to the next. It was his job to perceive everything around him, sus out friend from foe.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

What else can you say?

He brought you along (for whatever reason, fuck if you know why), and you’ve caused nothing but trouble every step of the way. It’s a wasteland miracle he hasn’t kicked your ass and left you bleeding in the dirt by now.

I have to fix this. Whatever it takes.

“I ain’t wanting you sorry.”

Gulping, you will away the sting of tears, and say, “Please, don’t kick me out.”

“Y’know, sometimes I think it’s a miracle you survived this long at all.”

“You don’t have to be so rude about it…” 

“Listen good and well, sugar,” he says with a roll of his eyes, that tender hand brushing over your neck turning into a collar as he drags you close. His lips whisper over yours with every word. “I didn’t go through all of this bullshit just ta get rid of you. Now--”

Hips rut up into you, dragging the firm line of his growing erection along the soft globes of your ass. “Stop teasin’ and make yourself useful,” he says. “Or you will be sorry.”

Everything after that flicks in and out of focus like a zoetrope: the burning clasp of hands, the slick glide of hungry mouths, the frantic rock of your hips as you both chase after dry friction with a desperation that borders on madness.

Your hands don’t know where to settle, fluttering from the nape of his neck to the breadth of his shoulders to the rippling muscle of his stomach as he rocks into you. Bites at any exposed skin that he can until his teeth leave marks you’ll carry for days.

All the while the hard edges of his body crash into your softness like waves against an eroding shore. Liquid fire blazes in your belly like a raging wildfire, scorching you from the inside out until you’re dumb and dripping.

The chem snaking through your body enhances the littlest of sensations until you feel like one giant exposed nerve. Slick drenched and sweaty, you moan weakly and rest your forehead against his cheek.

“Please,” you slur, thighs trembling where they squeeze at his live-wire hips. “S’not enough - need more. Wanna cum. Please, please, please. Make me cum.”

Cooper bites out a curse, his fingers biting into the fat of your ass. “Yeah, s’that right, sweetheart - d’you think you deserve it for bein’ such a lil brat?”

“Yes, yes, please, I’ll do anything. Just - hhahh, fuck!”

The fabric of your panties clings to your folds, and your pants chafe.

Your clit throbs with every thud of your heartbeat, every firm grind of his cock and low husk of his voice. Want him seated so deep inside you choke - your poor pussy struggling to take his cock as he rides you so hard you cry.

“Anything?” he asks with a breathless chuckle.

The devilish gleam of his eyes rattles your bones, shivers of electric anticipation fizzing through your veins like Quantum.

“Well, shit. Don’t come cryin’ ta me when you regret it. Now, take off those fucking pants and ride my cock like a good girl.”

And when he bullies his way inside, those thick ridges dragging along gummy walls, you almost swallow your tongue. He’s so big - the biggest you’ve ever had.

Every inch is a struggle, a victory. He’s not patient, he’s not kind. You don’t want it any other way, spread so wide your pussy flutters pathetically, trying to push him out.

Then the fat head grazes past the rough patch of your g-spot, sliding home to kiss your cervix. Your knees lock around his ribs, your head tossing back as a high-pitched whine punches its way out of your throat.

“A-Ah! I can’t — oh shit — you’re so,” you babble. “Too much!”

An ache spears deep, roots behind your navel.

“Heh, you asked for it, sweetheart. Look at me.” A scarred thumb wicks away a tear as you peel your eyes open with a sniffle. “That’s it. Shit, you look s’pretty when you cry.”

He licks his skin clean, uses his wet thumb to reach between you and roll the pad over your abused clit. You jump, sliding up on his shaft only for gravity to drag you back down with a solid smack of skin, your limbs jello soft.

The motion slams him deeper and slick drips from you in a sticky gush to soak his balls. You cry out, reedy thin.

Cooper grunts, warns, “You keep doing that and we’re not stoppin’ til you’re dripping cum.”

Though the thick haze of chem and syrupy sweet pleasure, you cobble together a grin and lick your way into his mouth. Tangle your tongues and suck as your hips arch into his. “Please, ruin me,” you breathe.

A possessive greed glints at you from the depths of his hangman eyes.

“Don’t go sayin’ I didn’t warn you, sweetheart,” he promises.