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#fire extinguisher old
pixiefms · 9 months
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mo’s drunken habit of latching onto smth and refusing to let go
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kply-industries · 24 days
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NOTE: Fire extinguisher is only effective against paper fires.
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wintermadness · 9 months
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deus-ex-mona · 3 months
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worming out of awkward conversations l i k e
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#accidentally partially traumadumped on my coworker earlier auaaaaaa im so sorry#literally all she asked was ‘are you gonna be spending cny with your father?’ and cue the rant (sadge)#i didn’t really have to tell her that the dude tried to burn our apartment down during a certain rampage#(said fire was extinguished by my then-11 year old bro with water from the sink though. good boi)#the topic was successfully changed after that yeayyyyyy#but. m a n n n n . cny is not a good time for me lmfaooooo#i swear i have at least one bad memory for all of the years that i’ve gone housevisiting for the season#like there was that time when i,as a kindergartner,was deemed to be the cause of breaking apart the family’s bonds#over a can of cola at a reunion dinner bc i cried when my evil aunt scolded me for daring to want a drink other than water#i think my father still blames me for that to this very day lmfaoooooo#g o d. manifesting my hopes and dreams for that prick to not contact me this year im begginggggg#he’s. like. the one person i hate more than myself. 3rd place on my hatelist is his father ofc. no clue who 4th place would be though…#hmmmmm ok i think that’s enough traumadumping for one cny season lmao#tune in next year as i once again wonder what tf the name of one of my cousins is#bc despite how bonkers that side of the family is… i’m sure that the dude’s parents weren’t deranged enough to name their son ‘colour’—#his name is seriously one of my greatest unsolved mysteries. i mean. he has siblings with names like dylan and vivian/valerie/vanessa(?)#and yet everyone calls him something that sounds like ‘colour’.#like damn did his parents decide to skip giving just one of their children a first name or something? guess i’ll never know
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everythingispossum · 1 year
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Hi I’ve been shipping them recently
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vacillatingcreator · 2 years
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Drew Paint Palette and Fire Extinguisher for the first time:
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This was mostly for me to practice drawing them
You know... for no reason in particular- *sweats*
((Jokes aside, I like this drawing! Even though I'm not sure how well they would/did get along in canon))
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mint-cat-06 · 2 years
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DRAW MY UNDERRATED FAV FIRE EXTINGUISHER FROM OBJECT LOCKDOWN PLSPLSPLSPLSPLS
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I MIZZ HIM!1!! ;-;
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1-1-s1ay-2-2 · 1 year
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The Scorpio Code | Explained
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biancabelairs · 2 years
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wrestling as a business should be safer and healthier now than it ever was before and yet lately i keep seeing some of the dumbest most irresponsible shit i've ever seen since i started watching almost twenty years ago and it FEELS BAD, FOLKS
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buckaroosboogara · 3 months
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Hi! Just wanna raise some awareness here because South America is on fucking fire and I need to see more people talking about this.
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Source: RSOE EDIS x
Im just going to talk about the ones i'm closest to, but if you know about these fires, feel free to add in the reblogs!
Chile
In Chile there's (up to Feb 5) 160 wild fires, of which 40 are still trying to be controlled by authorities. The president, Gabriel Boric, has declared State of Emergency in the whole country, and theres a Red Alert Code in most part of the country.
Isla de Chiloé, Southern Chile (900 km away from Santiago de Chile)
This is a (recently controlled) fire that lasted a week, but many neighborhoods were burnt to the ground.
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The whole South is in red alert for constant sudden fires that spread quickly due to the lack of rain and the elevated temperatues in the zone. Just today, two fires had to be controlled in the main land next to this island, and more are being reported in the Los Lagos region. This is added to the "controlled" intentional fires that farmers make to clean their fields of old crops along the Central-South parts of the country, mostly surrunding the main route, Ruta 5, that connects the whole country, thus making it hard to see and breathe because of the smoke. (flashnews, most of them get out of control quickly.)
Valparaiso/Viña del Mar, Central Chile (100 km away from Santiago de Chile)
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A fire that started on Friday 2nd and grew exponentially because of the wind and the dry, hot climate. More than 100 people are dead, with 70 unrecognized bodies and other 400 that have dissapeared. At least 30000 people that have lost everything to the fire.
There's massive evacuations from this and the neighboring city, Viña Del Mar.
This is said to be the second most deadly fire in the century, surpased by Australia in 2009.
45000+ hectares that include land and neighborhoods have been burnt down.
I could go on about this one, so more info here and here
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Argentina
Parque Los Alerces (Esquel), Chubut
The fire strarted on the 25th January, and the climate has made it hard to contain. 3000 hectares of native forest have been burnt to teh ground. It is now growing in the direction of the nearest city, Esquel. Theres been evacuations between yesterday and today (4 and 5th Febuary)
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Parque Nahuel Huapi (Bariloche), Río Negro
The reason why im writing this. The city woke up today covered in smoke after a wildfire developed yesterday during the night. The reason? A fireplace that was not turned off in a place where people cannot disembark and can only be reached via boats.
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As of now, there's not much information about the fire but hopefully the firefighters will be able to contain it before it reaches Tronador Mountain, where an ancient glaciar is.
...which leads me to the other point i wanted to talk about.
Firefighters
They volunteer to do this job.
In Argentina and Chile, firefighting is not rewarded with a salary, and most of the times they dont even have full firehouses to stay in. These people are at their houses, ready to jump into action and run to the station the second the alarm goes off.
They are neighbors, people that risk their lives and run into danger willingly, just because they want to help the community.
I felt the need to give a shout-out to these people and say:
Don't be a fucking dick, don't start fires in the woods unless it's an approved place, and if you do, TURN IT OFF.
Pour abundant water on it, and do not stop when you don't see any more flames.
Keep pouring water until the ashes don't burn/feel like room temperature in your hand if you put it 10 cm away from it, and even then, pour some more just to be sure.
No heat and no smoke mean a safely extinguished fire.
Save lives and forests.
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jude-apollo · 1 year
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prof sent an email giving us an extension on our lab report with the subject line "Tidings of Joy" I am so obsessed with this man
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thegnomelord · 4 months
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this isn’t a request but you’re the only writer i know who writes the monster!au so
dragon!reader and dragon!price are haunting my thoughts. dragons usually have to hold themselves back when sparring because they’re so much stronger than other monsters but with price & reader they don’t need to, to the point where the other members of the 141 are kinda wondering if they need to intervene.
what they do or don’t know is this is you and price courting, testing each other’s strength to assess whether you’re suitable mates. once you have decided you’re suitable it continues in the bedroom, fighting for dominance and testing each other’s stamina as price rides you or you pin price down and see if he can take all the strength behind your thrusts.
OH god I LOVE the way you think! I know @rodolfoparras also did a dragon price some time ago but I'm happy to let my monsterfucker out lol :D I'll consider this a spitball thingy but GOD DAMN did my hyperfixation hyperfixate on this :Ddd kinda rushed at the end but it's 3AM :/
CW:NSFW
What about if dragons measure not just raw strength, but all other aspects as well? They're prideful by nature and with so little of them remaining no self-respecting dragon will settle for a witless brute or a powerless scribe.
Price had lost hope in finding a mate centuries ago because he's even pickier than most of his kin; in his view, a proper one needs to be strong enough to completely pin him down, needs to be smart enough to see the insults in his honeyed words and give back as good as he does, needs to be clever enough to lead men as good as he does.
A proper mate needs to keep up with him on all levels.
And for a dragon of his age, that's an unachievable set of criteria. Oh sure, many of the dragons he's met over the years have tried to match him, but all fell short, leaving him lonely and unsatisfied.
Then he met you, a fellow Captain, a fellow dragon. Though only a few centuries younger than him, you're a wyrmling in his eyes, your scales like shining metal compared to his muddled gemstones. An arrogant wyrmling if the way you peacock for him the first time you enter the training room has anything to say about it— your wings spreading out and muscles rippling, back straightening out to make you taller, scales glinting in the artificial light; little details that anyone else can brush off as a simple stretch but to a dragon it screams of your interest in him.
His slitted eyes roam across your body, both equal parts disdain and curiosity. "Got somethin' ta say there boy?" His words are rough like sandpaper.
"No, no." You hum as you get into the ring, every little movement purposely done to showcase your hard earned musculature. "Just that you should skip out on this fight. Wouldn't want you to throw your back out old man."
"Old man huh?" His eyes blaze with the same fire at the end of his cigar, your words igniting something in his chest that had long been extinguished. "I'll show you old."
And suddenly he's in the ring, both of you trading blow for blow with the same savagery your progenitors had frightened mankind with for millennia, your claws leaving deep grooves in the concrete when you miss his side, his tail smashing a portion of the ground into dust when you avoid it, the ground between you cracking when you try to push the other away, loose scales and dust and debris littering the ground as you and Price wrestle on the ground.
Both of your teams watch from the sidelines, your team calming the other members of TF141 that this is just how dragons are, pointedly ignoring your victorious snarl when you pin Price down to the ground, your clawed hand harshly pushing his face into the concrete to the point you might break his nose as you bite the back of his neck, forcing him to submit. "I win,"
"Not fer long." He snarls back just as deep, feeling alive for the first time in who knows how long. "Best two out of three." And with that he jerks, remaining wing slamming into your side and knocking you off balance long enough for him to fling you into the wall opposite of him.
You don't know how many rounds you go before you're forced to stop by a very pissed off Laswell, who also pointedly ignores the obvious bulges in what remains of both of your pants, giving both of you a stern talking to about wrecking the damn training room.
You're ready to leave after being chastised like a child but Price is quicker, passing you with a "Good fight back there." rumbling in his throat, the soft scales of his wing brushing along your jaw. Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you meet his gaze, and Price has a good poker face but the smoldering look in his eyes and the low grumble in his chest makes it's obvious you've peaked his curiosity.
But that's just the start, the hard part is keeping it. While regular dragons may spend time with a potential mate conversing on scholarly subjects or having philosophical debates, you and him have a more practical way of assessing the other's intellect — Battle plans.
To your teams it sounds like a harsh argument, ideas thrown around and sharp insults tacked on top, their heads ping ponging between you and Price as you look over maps, trying to one up the other. Eventually your teammates leave you to settle this on your own.
"And I'm telling you, old man," You growl, both of you so close there's barely any space between you as you point at the map. "We can push a smaller team through the forest while we lead the frontal assault, our wip's not going to have anywhere to go then." You huff, holding your head up high to make it obvious you're proud of your idea.
Price gives you the stink eye, before he scans the map again, humming to himself. After a few seconds he lets out a scoff. "We don't have enough men for that." He says, but the sharp edge in his tone is dulled. "But—" His tail moves to brush against your own, your rough scales brushing against his smoother ones. "—It has some merit."
Price doesn't draw attention to the way your tails intertwine, wrapping together like two snakes, and neither do you. But the short purr that bubbles out of your chest says everything he needs to know, growing louder when he answers with his own, your shoulders brushing together. "Aight, back to work." He cuts your purrs short, but you can't hide the pleased look on your face as your tails remain coiled together.
Then comes the actual courting dance.
One late evening spent looking over documents in the privacy of his office, your tails once again coiled beneath the desk after successfully having proved your wit to him again, absentmindedly telling embarrassing stories of your respective teams. . . Price has a revelation. You might be it. "Hey lad."
You look up, your full attention on him. "Yeah?"
With a mumbled grunt too quiet for you to hear Price slides a hand beneath his shirt and pulls a large green scale from the meat of his shoulder blade, the wound healing before it can even bleed.
Instinctively you know what this means, for knowing how a prospective mate treats an extension of you will show how they'll treat you. But you still speak up, needing proof for your own mind that you're not insane and haven't been burning the wrong tree. "What?"
Price glares at you, "Don't play dumb," He says as he slides the large scale across the table to you. "It doesn't suit you." There's an underlayer of heat in his words, blue slitted eyes looking you over in a much more appreciative light.
You can't control the big grin that spreads across your face, "Oh, then what does suit me?" You ask as you follow his lead, yanking out one of your larger scales from your own back and sliding it to him. It makes the difference between you two obvious, his green scale muddled with age compared to your shiny one.
"Arrogant muppet." The gentle way he picks up your scale clashes with his harsh words, cradling it in his hand like it'll crack at the slightest of touches, his face reflected in the surface.
You grin, "Just confident." You feel his sharp eyes judge every minute twitch of your fingers as you pick up his scale. Price's poker face hides the way his heart melts at the loving way you brush a thumb across the surface, how it throbs when you don't immediately attempt to make it shine like some whelps once did, accepting him for how he is by putting it in your breast pocket.
God, he doesn't even know how much he'd fantasized about something like this when he was still young, vestiges of a purr escaping his throat at the tender way you treat his scale. "Right." He shakes his head and places your scale in his own breast pocket, handing you another stack of papers. "Get back to work."
You grin and do as he says, wings twitching as a sign of joy, your tail squeezing down on his and receiving a squeeze in kind.
Price feels like a horny teen when he lays awake in bed late at night with your scale held between his claws. He feels stupid for feeling so giddy at the thought of having a mate, a proper mate, yet his body thinks differently. Just holding it in his hand is enough to make him grow hot, your scent still clings to the scale and Price finds himself holding it close to his nose to familiarize himself with it and Hell his body loves it, cocks growing hard in record time and his thighs wet with slick. The poor thing doesn't even know what to relieve first, his free hand constantly going between stroking his cocks and fingering himself, mind craving the heat of another dragon that he'd been deprived of.
What Price doesn't know is that you're in the same boat, biting your arm to silence yourself as you imagine it's Price you're breeding instead of a pillow, splintering the headboard from how hard you're gripping it in an attempt to not damage the scale.
Then shit hits the fan when during a routine mission you two are ambushed, and while two dragons are no easy prey for mankind, humans have long since gone from using rocks and sticks. You catch sight of a sniper's scope glint seconds before the bullet targets Price, and in only a few seconds to think you throw yourself in the way, Price's scale in your breast pocket puts enough resistance to make you survive the bullet, but you feel it crack, and that. . . that sets you off.
Price doesn't even have the time to lift his gun before you're tearing through the battlefield like a man possessed, anger burning like a volcano in your chest for trying to hurt him, elemental breath and draconic strength unleashed to it's fullest potential.
And Price? Price watches the show with that same heat burning in his belly, forced to bite his lip to silence the pleased purrs as he rubs his thighs together while you tear flesh from bone, mate flashing in his mind. Look how he protects you His mind purrs, Good mate. Perfect mate.
"I'm sorry." You whimper when you've finally calmed down, the battlefield nothing but a ruined crater and the shards of his scale held tenderly in your cupped hands. "I failed, I-"
"Come here." Price cuts you off quickly and pulls you down into a harsh and desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue and need. He parts just a fraction of an inch, "You passed." He growls and only then do you notice the sharp arousal in his scent, your animalistic hindbrain jumping for joy as you kiss back because holy shit he considers you worthy.
And now that he's found his mate? You best believe his body is going to make up for all the centuries he'd spent alone.
It doesn't even take a week for him to enter heat, waking in a daze with his twin cocks hard and his thighs glistening with slick, your scent lingering in the sheets and your side of the bed still warm. The walls almost shake from how deeply he growls when he registers that you're not next to him, just enough sense in his head to throw on a towel around his waist before angerly stomping through the halls to find you, sniffing you out like a bloodhoud.
"Bloody muppet." Price growls as he yanks you by the horns back to his room, the scent of his arousal so potent you're struck dumb, letting yourself be pushed down. Price's claws slice through your clothes, his hole so slick and eager for you he doesn't even need to stretch, just jumps onto your lap and in one fluid motion takes one of your cocks to the root. "Fuckin' finally." Price hisses, instantly setting a harsh pace of bouncing on your cock that would have had a lesser race end up with a crushed pelvis.
You grip his hips for dear life, surging up to mark his neck and shoulders with bites as he does the same, his ass clapping against your thighs. "Mate." Price moans, hole clenching around you, his cocks leaking against your stomach. "My mate." He grips your hair and pulls you into a bruising kiss, "Going to last long for me yeah?" He asks, a bit of mockery on his flushed face as he feels you cum inside him, riding you through your orgasm as the sudden onslaught of sensations frazzles the intelligent parts of your brain. "Not going to disappoint me now are you?"
Good thing dragons have really short refractory periods.
"Not a chance." You snarl and flip him over suddenly, rumbling purrs escaping your chest from the surprised sound he makes. You attempt to pin him down and he squirms out of your hold, another bout of wrestling breaking out between you that has you two tumbling off the bed and onto the ground.
"That so whelp?" Price breathes out when you manage to pin him down, your strong hand keeping his face flush with the floor. "Do you really think you can keep up?" A pleased thrill runs down his spine from the sensation of your weight bearing down on him, his knees automatically locking up to hike his ass up, tail flipping up to display his slick hole for you.
"Do you?" You counter, one hand on his head, the other pressing both of your dicks together, your two tips pressing against his ass. "You're so wet and desperate, should have just pinned you down the moment I saw you instead of courting you." With one sharp thrust you push in, a pained and elated moan tearing out of his throat at the sensation of your twin cocks spreading him wider than any toy ever could, scratching that itch he'd had for who knows how long.
The stretch and burn and pleasure muddles his mind, reduces him to low animalistic snarls and growls as he does his best to push his hips into yours. "Hurry the fuck up." Price orders, whole body shaking from the way you set a harsh pace, bashing on his prostate, your balls slapping against his own, each hard thrust pushing and pulling his face across the floor. "I'll- fuck- fall asleep."
"You sure about that?" You push your weight further on him, forcing his wing to spread out, your own partially wrapping around him, "Seems to me like-" A bit of elemental breath leaves your throat when one particularly strong thrust has his hole clamping down on you, his back arching to push his hips as close to yours as one of his cocks spews cum on the floor, "-like you're not in a place to order me around."
"You- ah-fuck-ah- wanker." His insult would be a lot more hurtful if he didn't whine like a bitch in heat, both of you devolving into primitive snarls and growls with the only thought on both of your minds being the need to fill Price with as much of your cum as you physically can.
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wintermadness · 9 months
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deus-ex-mona · 1 year
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things that happen when you leave an open flame unattended: part 1
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theemporium · 7 months
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The Monaco Grand Prix had been a fucking trainwreck.
It was meant to be their weekend. They had been doing so well all weekend. They had been topping the practice sessions. They had been putting in fast laps every session. They had managed to secure the front row after qualifying.
 They had done everything right, and yet it still wasn’t enough because Ferrari fucked everything up in the way they always did. 
Between unnecessarily long and unprepared pit stops to bad strategy calls that left them fighting other cars in old, used tires, it was a fucking shit show and the boys just wanted the race to be over so they could forget about it. They wanted to cross the line and get unnecessarily drunk until the race was nothing but a blip in their memory. 
And that was the plan for the night when they arrived at the club, until they saw you. 
Your relationship with the Ferrari drivers wasn’t exactly conventional nor easy to explain. You don’t even know how you could explain it to someone, because to an outsider looking in, it seemed anything but equal and fair.
It started long before either boy really joined Ferrari.
When Carlos Sainz drove for Torro Rosso and you were joining your father around the world, it was easy to cross paths with the Spaniard. Nothing ever happened, but you were on Carlos’ radar and that was more than enough. Then Charles entered the picture. And years passed without a single thought in your head about ever acting on the attraction for either driver because they became the enemy. 
To the world, you were the Red Bull princess. You were Christian Horner’s pride and joy. You were the face of one of the only pure and innocent things at Red Bull, and nothing could tarnish that image. 
Nothing except the Ferrari boys. 
The two men that were your father’s biggest rivals. The two men that seemed to have you wrapped around their finger long before you could even realise it. The two men that seemed to awaken a fire inside you that you didn’t think existed, and now you never wanted to extinguish it. 
The two men that had trained the perfect, little Red Bull princess into their perfect, little whore. 
And now, in a small and exclusive club in the heart of Monaco, you were just in reach. You were standing beside Max, his arm thrown over your shoulder, as you both laughed and celebrated and drank happily at the expense of both Ferrari boys. 
And something in them snapped. 
You were at least three drinks in, lost in the crowd as you aimlessly danced to whatever song was being pumped through the speakers when you felt their presence. You barely had a chance to open your eyes before you felt a warm and familiar chest settle behind you, hands on your waist that were gripping the fabric of your short dress. 
“You seem happy, cherie,” Charles grumbled, lips brushing against your ear as he pulled you back into him. “Far too fucking happy.”
“Charles,” you murmured breathlessly, leaning into his embrace like it was instinctive. 
“Maybe you like laughing at our expense,” a second voice spoke, and you didn’t even have time to turn your head on your own before you felt fingers digging into your cheeks, turning you to face Carlos who stood in front of you.
You shook your head. “I wasn’t—”
“You didn’t even come to see us, amor,” Carlos grumbled, his voice so clear to you despite the noisy environment of the club around you. “Too busy celebrating with Daddy’s favourite?” 
“I just didn’t know—” you started, only to let out a small whimper when Carlos’ fingers slipped past your lips, two digits laying heavy on your tongue as you gently sucked.
“You’re ours, amor,” he murmured, his hooded eyes focused on the way your pretty painted lips wrapped around his fingers. “Ours to do whatever we want with, right?”
You whined, nodding.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” Carlos continued, shaking his head like he was scolding you. “You should have been waiting for us. You should have been on your fucking knees and instead you were running around with Max.” He paused for a moment, his gaze moving to Charles behind you. “Maybe you just need a fucking reminder who you belong to.”
You barely gasped around his fingers when you felt Charles’ hands wander lower until his fingers brushed against the hem of your dress. Carlos watched you, delighted in the way your eyes widened when Charles pushed the fabric of your dress up to expose your scantily clad ass in a thong.
“This just for us, cherie?” Charles whispered in your ear, his voice low and his accent thick and it made you clench your legs together.
“Maybe she does remember she’s our whore after all,” Carlos commented as if you weren’t there.
Charles fingers wandered, his palm moving to cup your pussy and he let out a dark laugh. “And she’s fucking wet already. Barely even touched her.”
“Because she’s such a good toy,” Carlos cooed as he pushed his fingers further into your mouth until you let out a choked garble. “Even when she’s not trying, she wants to be our good girl.” 
“Shit,” Charles groaned, his nose brushing against your neck as his fingers teased your soaking cunt. “She’s fucking dripping, Carlos. Making such a mess.”
“Guess we need to take care of our toy, Charles,” the Spaniard murmured in response. 
And it should have terrified you. All of it should have made some sort of warning bell ring in your head. You were in public. You were in a club. Anyone could see the three of you. Anyone could see the way the Ferrari boys were touching you. 
It was dark and it was loud and most of the people around you were far too drunk to comprehend their surroundings, but all it would take was for one picture to be taken and for the world to see the Red Bull princess at the mercy of the Ferrari boys.
But it didn’t scare you, or maybe you just really didn’t care. Maybe because you didn’t care what the world thought because Charles was sliding his cock into you and Carlos was slowly pumping his fingers in your mouth in a way that made you wish it was his cock, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else at that moment. 
“Look at our pretty girl,” Carlos cooed as your eyes fluttered shut with Charles’ thrusts, his hands on your waist as he fucked you without a single care. “Taking it so well, amor. Like a good toy.” 
“Fuck,” Charles groaned in your ear, panting in your ear as he pulled you back onto his cock. “So fucking tight, cherie. Gonna fill you up and let people see me dripping down your leg all night.” 
You whined around Carlos’ fingers, a sound so pathetic and desperate that both boys almost wished the whole club could hear you. 
“We are gonna fucking ruin you, amor,” Carlos murmured as his other hand softly caressed your cheek as if a small dribble of drool wasn’t leaking from the corner of your lips and ruining your makeup. “Not Red Bull’s princess, but our fucking whore.”
You moaned pathetically. 
“Who knows,” his grin was a little vindictive and sinister. “Maybe we’ll send a little picture to your father. Show him which team his daughter really belongs to.”
.
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acapelladitty · 8 days
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Cooper gives big sub energy if you open your eyes wide enough, don't you think ditty?
A/N: Maybe not sub energy but please enjoy this little thing where Cooper is forced to eat his partner out for being an ass. (1.7k words)
(tw: face sitting, orgasm, oral sex, dirty talk, threat of violence, biting, come marking, playful snark, mild violence)
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Call Out Loud For You
Link to AO3 series
Fic Masterlist
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Standing at the foot of the large cot which you had both decided to claim as 'home' for the night, your hands felt heavy on your hip as you held your ground against the smug ghoul who lounged against the threadbare sheets.
It had been a rough day. A bounty hunt very quickly went sideways as an isolated raider turned out to be very non-isolated indeed. And his friends weren't willing to give him up without a fight. But, as always, when the dripping blood finally settled and the missing limbs had been counted, it was Cooper and yourself who emerged the victors.
But still.
He had been a prick about it.
"Apologise." You demanded, wounded pride making you determined to get at least that out of him.
Sucking his lips in to unleash a short whistle, Cooper was unrepentant.
"Ain't got nothing to apologise for, so I won't be wasting the words."
His arm is raised overhead, nude body laying out utterly shameless and reddened against the pale sheets. A rogue chain had caught him across the outer thigh and the marks there would take days to heal. Your efforts to help with the injury had been swiftly rebuffed as he realised you were still looking for an apology and he had instead elected to strip off and drop to the cot, claiming it as his own.
For someone who was so vilified and hated due to his appearance, it sure didn't seem to bother him when it suited his mood.
Deprived of your own clothes due to the sweltering heat of the approaching night, you stood before him with equal pride - refusing to back down.
He knew he was in the wrong.
Those little affectionate brushes against your back and casual grabs at your body that had punctuated throughout the day after the doomed raid had screamed his unspoken guilt. But his stubbornness was maddening.
As was how horny his little games had made you.
Fuck it.
You were getting yours, one way or another.
"You always told me that the only thing we get in the world is what we're willing to take."
Proclaiming the sage words from a scowling face, you throw the advice back at him like a horse kicking up dirt.
"That I did."
"Then lie your stupid ass flat out on that cot. Arms by your sides and legs straightened out."
Surprise crosses his face for only a moment before being swiped away by something lecherous as his right hand drops to cup at his cock, the thick length laying half-hard against his upper thigh.
"I don't see how riding this old stallion is going to get your point across but I ain't complaining."
Shaking your head as you climb into the cot, your body slithers up his own like a serpent coiling in the desert heat until you can straddle his waist - making a point to ignore his cock as you sit above it.
"I'm gonna sit on your face and you're gonna eat me out until I forget that I'm mad at you. You're going to treat my cunt like it's your last supper before they execute your stubborn ass."
Narrowing his brow, the missing hole where his nose should be flaring as he inhaled, Cooper shook his head with a somewhat playful defiance; most of his fire having been extinguished by your soft body atop his as his hands immediately flew to your hips and groped at the flesh there.
"The hell I am. That sounds like a sorry to me, darli-"
Your hand makes a resounding crack as it collides with his hollowed cheek. On a regular man, it would leave a livid mark, but on Cooper - his skin already a darker shade than anything you could accomplish - it is truly undetectable.
What is slightly more detectable is the sly smirk which curls at the corners of his ragged lips and the way his pupils seem to dilate as he inhales sharply once more.
"Oh, it's like that is it."
"Damn right." Running your thumb across the ridge of his cheek, neatly atop the area which you had just slapped, you enjoy the rough sensation of his skin against your own as his hands increase their grip of you. "And if I hear any more backtalk then I'll just smother you. End of all my problems."
A thoughtful hum rumbles past his throat, and you feel it through your palm as you spread your fingers across his chest.
"Not the worst way I've died." Cooper admits. "Alright, darlin', hop on. But don't say I didn't warn you."
Shuffling forward, your inner thighs burn as they swipe across his collarbone in their efforts to position yourself so that his face - eyes burning in the shadows of their sockets - was in a prime position to service your eager sex.
"Might be the last meal you get, handsome." Sighing out the words, you spread your knees wide as you take the time to ensure your own comfort. "So don't waste it."
His response is too low for you to pick up properly, the syllables more a growl than anything else, but you can hear the bitchy quality to his tone as he dutifully pushes his mouth up to brush along your cunt.
He immediately sets out to punish you for that earlier slap, sucking at your folds with his lips and teasing the skin with blunted teeth. It's a lot and your fingers curl against the wall which the head of the cot sits against as you resist the urge to press down harshly on his face.
He seems to be enjoying himself though, his tongue licking a sordid line from your hole to your clit in one solid stripe.
"Fuck, Cooper-" You whine, legs tightening around his shoulders as his tongue grazes your clit; a sensation which sends lightning up your spine as your body tenses involuntarily.
Knowing he hit a good spot, he repeats the feat. His roughened lips add a cruel intensity to his movements as he suckles at your most sensitive nerves. It's hot and intense and too fucking much-
Grinding your cunt down onto his face, you momentarily mourn his lack of nose as an amusing image of being able to swipe yourself across it for extra stimulation flits through your mind.
His tongue would do though and you press your cunt against his mouth with vigour, forcing him to abandon your clit and refocus his attention on your hole. You're already painfully wet, his tongue lapping up more moisture than it was providing, and you feel him growl against your sex as he tastes you properly.
A vicious cry slips free of your throat as he disobeys your earlier demands and his calloused hands wrap around your inner thighs, pulling your lips apart to allow him easier access to his apology. His skin is hot as hell, the leathered texture as delightful as ever as his mouth messily latches on to your skin - sucking, biting, licking, and teasing every possible inch of you until your words are broken and incomprehensible.
A sharp pain makes you cry out and you feel the full ache of a bite radiating from your inner thigh, the skin unbroken but no doubt soon to bruise due to the hard treatment. The dual sensation makes your head swim as the pressure of arousal builds in your cunt.
Discomfort and pleasure.
Ecstacy and pain.
Pure Cooper in his most concentrated form.
Nearing completion, you can't help the bucking of your hips as he struggles to hold you into place - your cunt grinding on his mouth and chin as you chase that high.
"Fuck, Cooper. Just so- so fucking good. Need to do this- FUCK- do this more. Put that mouth to good, ugh, use."
It's a babble and a mess. Words stuttering and pitching as his lips find your clit once more and his tongue flicks against the engorged nub, sending you careening over the edge of the abyss.
Hands scrambling against the wall as your orgasm hits, the hot pleasure cascades through your body in waves - tensing and relaxing your frame in sync as you press down on his face. Without much choice, he swallows everything, his busy tongue refusing to let up its devouring of your cunt as your thighs clench around his skull.
Earlier musings blown to the side, you take a moment to appreciate that his nose was missing as your frantic jerking across his face would have probably broken it in several places. You ride your orgasm out against him, allowing him time to breathe when he earns it as his face skilfully tilts to the side to pull in sharp intakes of air.
Eventually the tension in your legs dies out and your cunt grows too overstimulated to be fully enjoyable and you push your hands off the wall, forcing your cum-soaked thighs to slip along his chest once more as you collapse to the side of him.
His face is a sight. The raw-looking skin glistened in the low light as his mouth and chin remain covered by your mess. His eyes were bright, piercing through your relaxed features as you wrap your leg around his own - marvelling at the temperature difference.
"Not bad, old timer."
Blissed out by his efforts, your attitude was much more amicable and to show your forgiveness, you lazily grip at his cock; the length rock hard and visible leaking pre-cum due to his own untouched arousal.
Deciding that maybe he did deserve a treat as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his scarred hand - bringing the collected mess to his mouth for a final taste - you run the pad of your thumb across the flared head of his livid cock in a playful tease.
"Let's see if we can do something about this little problem here."
"Little?"
Cooper's voice came roughly, his own aggression mellowed out by how visibly pleased you were with his efforts.
Still, he couldn't resist the bait.
"Not that little, I gotta say." You reply. "In fact, maybe I should return the favour and-"
Trailing off, you wetten your lips with your tongue and make a lurid sucking noise, something obscene and nasty, as your thighs press together gently.
It's not really that much of a surprise when his hand moves like lightning, snaring around your neck and pushing your head towards his cock while a faint yet familiar smirk sits on the corners of his lips.
It was your turn after all.
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