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“Fuck, fuck… M’gonna come, please… Let me come!” Dex cried out to you—he couldn’t even tell how many minutes had passed, how many hours since you started bouncing up and down on his cock.
All he knew was that the bedsheets were stuck to his skin due to sweat, that tears had started rolling from the corners of his eyes, that drool had slowly trickled down from his mouth due to the intense pleasure he felt. All of this had started with teasing; him betting that he would never submit to you (even though he had done it countless times before) and that he would never beg for release. But he did, and he did so prettily.
You were the devil, if Dex had to describe you in that moment: you had denied him so many orgasms, overstimulated his cock before ruining all releases he had dreamed of. And it didn't feel like you were about to stop any time soon.
“Oh? You’re about to come, is that it? You want to come, Dex?” You teased the man that was laying beneath your body, the man that was tied up to the bed, the man that was squirming and whining.
Your sloppy cunt lowered all the way down to his base, soaking him in your juices before stopping all movements. Dex groaned, head rolling onto the pillow as he realized you weren’t going to give him what he wanted, once again. His thighs shook under your body, hands tugging on his restraints but most importantly, his cock twitched inside your warm hole. His lips opened wide, drool leaking from his mouth and toward his cheek. You moved one hand to wipe it off, caressing his scar at the same time.
“I heard someone wanted to come, here? Who’s that?” You teased, voice full of mockery as Dex’s body shook, his insides all warm and burning up at the fact that another orgasm was ruined by you. His balls contracted and relaxed a few times, the veins all along his length throbbed against your velvety walls. It was nothing but torture to him; to feel you so wet, so close, so good but not being able to shoot his load inside your cunt.
His blue eyes shut tight as he tried to gain his thoughts back. “Me! Fuck, it’s me. I need to come… Let me come.” He whined at you.
It was your first time seeing him so… depraved. Dex was no stranger to being in control. He loved control; because control meant being in power and being in power meant having an advantage over people. But when it came to you? All control, all power and all advantages disappeared. His thoughts were nothing but about you and the way you made him feel. Because no one had truly made him feel that way before; like he was allowed to give up power and lay in his feelings.
“My cock hurts, m’fuck… Shit.” He groaned again, voice muffled by the pillow as he rolled it around. You hummed, moving both hands to brush sweaty hair away from his forehead. His skin was warm to the touch, you almost thought he had a fever for a second or so. A smile appeared on your face, less mocking than any before. “It hurts, baby? You want me to stop?” You asked, even though you knew Dex would never want to stop unless the safeword was used. So, he shook his head. Pleasure is pain, pain is pleasure.
“That’s a good boy. You can take it, right?” You asked, brushing his sweaty skin with your fingertips until they stopped at his chin. Dex opened his blue eyes just to focus on your face, he licked his lips before talking. “Yeah, I can. I fuckin’ can.” A smirk appeared on his face and his eyes became half-lidded as you pushed two fingers against his lips.
He immediately understood, his jaw dropping and mouth opening to let you push them in.
“That’s it, you’re doing so good, Dex.” You hissed while pressing your fingers against his tongue and deeper inside his mouth. Dex wrapped his lips around your digits and started to suck on them, rolling his tongue around and coating them in his saliva.
He probably didn’t expect you to do it, so a loud muffled moan escaped his mouth when you rolled your hips and pushed his cock deeper inside your sloppy cunt. His head rolled onto the pillow as he now struggled to suck on your fingers and gather his thoughts at the same time. You decided to be merciful to him, and pulled your fingers out of his warm mouth; a thread of saliva connected the tips of your digits to his lips. It made you moan. “God, look at you. I’ve never seen you like that, so submissive and pathetic.” You voiced to the man beneath you.
Dex only replied with a groan, tugging on his restraints once more and you wondered if he felt his skin becoming raw under the rope. Did it add pleasure to him? Given how freaky he was, probably.
“Yeah, no shit… You’re the devil.” He hissed as you rolled your hips once more, clenching your walls around his throbbing cock. He pulsated inside you, pushing against your insides and stretching your cunt so good. A look at where you were both connected made you see the creamy white ring around his girth and how good he also made you feel.
He was so big, filling you up with his mushroom tip slightly kissing your cervix but not enough to make it hurt.
The previous words leaving his mouth made you chuckle. “Come on, it’s just a little teasing. What should I say when you do the same to me?” He snorted, head rolling onto the pillow once more before his mouth fell wide open as you pushed yourself up from his cock. “Fuck, fuck… Your pussy’s so warm.” Dex groaned when you lowered yourself back down all the way onto his length. His back arched from the bed.
Obviously, he was overstimulated from the number of orgasms denied before, and the slightest movements were making him lose his mind.
“Focus, Dex.” You said, moving your hands to his chest. You caressed his scars slowly before focusing too, pressing your palms flat on his pectorals for support. Only then, you started to bounce up and down on his shaft—torturing him once again with your tight pussy. Dex gasped, the bed creaked as he squirmed under you and tried to tug on his restraints. Moans escaped his mouth, blue eyes closed shut as he tried to gather his thoughts with no effort and tears rolled down to his cheeks due to pleasure and overstimulation.
“Please, fuck, let me come this time. I’ll be good, yeah?” He hissed, eyes opening again just to watch your pussy leaking onto his cock; how your juices made everything glisten, how your clit rubbed into his base as you lowered yourself or how you took all of him. “You want to come? You want to fill my pussy, baby?” You asked him with mockery, leaning your upper body toward his chest so your breasts and nipples would rub against his pectorals.
Only then, you fastened your pace, eyebrows furrowing due to pleasure. Tears kept rolling from Dex’s eyes and you moved your face closer just to lick them off of his skin.
The bed creaked as you slammed your pussy down onto his cock, your ass slapping onto his thighs and loud squelching noises echoing in the room from your sloppy pussy. Your walls clenched around him, his pre-cum mixing with your juices and leaking from your hole to stick to his balls.
“I’m going to fill you up, yeah? Going to make sure you’re so fuckin’ full of me.” Dex groaned in your ear before you lifted your upper body up, sitting back perfectly onto his shaft. Your movements were now uncoordinated as you rolled your hips, bouncing with no true support. The noises echoing in the room were nothing but perverted and disgusting; a telltale of the sex that was happening.
You didn’t even reply to the words leaving Dex’s mouth, too busy with rubbing your cunt down against his hairy base—your clit being roughly stimulated that way. One of your hands shifted to your back and lower until it got to your ass. You reached under, which was harder than you expected it would, just to wrap your palm around Dex’s balls. A loud gasp came from his mouth and his back arch from the mattress. “Fuck! Fuck, yes!” He cried out, muffled by the pillow as he hid his face.
You tried your best to mix bouncing and rolling his balls into your palm at the same time; bringing more stimulation to him. The hiding of his face didn’t do anything and you could clearly see all the tears that rolled to his cheeks as he cried from overstimulation. His body squirmed beneath yours, thighs shaking and hips jerked to thrust inside you—which you weren’t sure was on purpose.
His tip rubbed at your entrance, making your pussy leak more juices and wetness. It was a mess; all was sticky and slick and glistening.
Your hand tightened its grip onto Dex’s balls, thumb rubbing at the skin there before almost pinching it. “Fuck! Too much, fuck, I’m going to come!” He cried, bringing more strength when tugging on the rope around his wrists. He didn’t seem to care about burning himself. “Going to come? You want it, baby?” You asked, before suddenly letting his balls fall from your palm just to slap them. Dex groaned loudly, hips jerking and before he had time to warn you; he came.
His whole body contracted, muscles convulsing under you as he shot his load inside your pussy. It was warm, thick and way too much. You could only keep bouncing as he filled you up, dragging his semen all the way down his length and to his base as you fucked yourself on his cock. “Shit! Shit! Coming!” He cried, and you slapped his balls again which made him shake from overstimulation.
Your free hand moved to his pectoral and you held yourself up for supper before giving real bounces on top of him. Your cunt clenched, filled up with his semen that leaked out of your hole in globs just to decorate his base and thighs. “Fuck, Dex—” You cried out too, trying a new angle just to feel his tip rub and hit your g-spot. Your mouth opened wide as pleasure ran through your body, making your thoughts foggy.
Dex cried out as overstimulation made his body shake, and neither was he able to think at that moment.
Your cunt clenched around his softening cock as you finally came—loudly crying out his name, body arching on top of his and pussy pulsating. The bed stopped from creaking and the room was filled with loud breathing for a second before you slowly pulled yourself up from Dex’s cock in a wet, shlick noise. “I think I just saw Heaven.” You joked to him and he only smirked in answer, still needing to gather his thoughts before talking.
Your walls clenched around air before you pushed, which made more come leak from your sloppy hole. Globs of semen fell down directly onto Dex’s cock and he groaned at the view, his shaft twitching for a second. “Untie me.” He finally spoke and you just did that, seeing his red and raw skin from all the tugging. He didn’t seem to care at all, so you didn’t mention it.
All Dex did was wrap his arms around your waist and pull your body down onto his. You were both naked, laying down in silence for what seemed to be eternity. Then, he spoke. “We definitely need to do that again,” his eyes lowered to your face, seeing you almost asleep from all the effort. “Turns out I’m really into overstimulation. And ball torture.” The last words made you laugh out loud. “Uh? Are you now?”
He rolled to face you, one strong hand on your lower back to caress your skin. “Use my knives, next time.” You rolled your eyes at that. “You’re insane, Benjamin Poindexter.”
He leaned his face, pressed his lips to yours for a kiss that only lasted a moment or so. “Yeah, I fuckin’ am. Insane about you.”
summary ﹏ Contrary to people's belief, Dennis is the one having the reign over you; in other words, you are a brat and he is a tamer. So what happens when you decide to mock and tease him all day long throught your shift at the hospital? You know there's punishment to come, so don't be surprised at the end of the day.
cw ﹏ ( +18 ) mdni / smut fic. afab!brat!reader & brat tamer!dennis. established relationship. slight workplace (hospital) setting&teasing. implied domestic fluff. punishement play. dom&sub play. power imbalance / control dynamic. dirty-talking. praise. fingering. clit stimulation. light degrading&corrective language. edging. orgasm denial (ruined release). reward system implied. aftercare.
reblog is a creator's best-friend, thank you!!
Appearance mattered; Dennis thought. It mattered enough for people to put a judgement on you or suppose things.
The most supposed thing about Dennis was that he—given his appearance and personality—was the submissive one in bed. It was easy to think that, whenever people saw you together. You were a bit more confident than your boyfriend, a bit less (if not way less) awkward than him and God, not so clumsy. So yes, people often assumed that he liked being told what to do, that he liked being praised and arch his ass up for you. Honestly, Dennis wouldn’t even mind if you asked him too.
But the truth, if anyone came to discover it, was totally different.
You were a brat; speaking back to him, teasing him while being outside, rolling your eyes at him when he simply asked for things. And you did all that while damn knowing the fact that Dennis would punish you for it. Because see, he knew how to tame you, to make you regret being so mean and bratty without even lifting his voice at you. In the walls of your shared apartment, you knew who Dennis truly was and the system you had both set up for those kinds of situations.
Today had started like any other day; scrubs on, patients after patients, trauma rooms being a mess after intervention and jokes shared with Trinity near the nurses’ desk. You had both started gently teasing Dennis after he had been accidentally splattered with vomit (no blaming the poor patient that was nothing but sick) and had to change to another pair of scrubs.
It reminded you of your first shift with him last year, when you met and slowly fell in love after a few months.
Trinity had laughed, using the famous Huckleberry nickname she had been giving him for a year now and all you had done was repeat it in a mocking tone, mischief in your eyes. “That’s a funny nickname, don’t you think so?” You had said to your boyfriend, slowly seeing the change of expression on his face; the one that warned you gently. You could have stopped that, letting it go; but no, that wasn’t truly your style.
And all day long, each time you saw Dennis, you threw a mocking sentence his way, calling him Huckleberry, sticking your tongue out at him. And each time, his expression closed—not in anger, never in anger, but in a yeah, laugh now, you won’t be laughing later expression.
And yeah, true; you weren’t laughing anymore.
You had both finished your shift around 9pm, grabbing some burgers on the way home and talking about the day. You had expected Dennis to forget about your bratiness with the way he was joking on the way home or with how he held your hand. But that was your first mistake; because he helped you take your coat off when you got home, smiling at you with his awkward expression before he spoke. “Take your pants and panties off and go stand at the couch.” The words made you shiver, because you knew you were in for a punishment.
You decided to not push his buttons more, and slowly pulled your scrubs and panties down as he watched you; his eyes focused on your body and the movements of your hands. His arms crossed on his chest, the biceps he had worked for at the gym bulged with his actions and you felt your hole clench around nothing. “Come on, to the living room.” He simply said, once your lower half was naked.
You followed after him without a word, even though your steps were taken with no hesitation, you felt the goosebumps on your skin when your boyfriend sat down on the couch; his legs spread to give you space to stand between them and so, you did. The curtains were closed and you were glad; showing your naked buttcheeks to your neighbors wasn’t on your wishlist. You moved, standing straight in front of Dennis as he moved a hand, extending it to turn a lamp on; the low and warm light illuminated the room, making your skin glow for his eyes.
“Spread your legs, let me see you.” His voice was quiet but you heard it, moving your feet to spread your legs like he had asked. With the height difference, his face was right in front of your cunt and you knew it was definitely what he wanted. “You were a really bad girl today, right? Mocking me and calling me this stupid nickname.” Dennis voiced, which made you pout.
You liked being a brat, you didn’t like the punishment that followed. His eyes looked up at your face when you didn’t reply, his expression telling you it would be better to answer.
“I was just having fun with Trinity.” You said back and he hummed, nodding his head. “Yeah, I saw that too. But I thought you liked being a good girl? Good girls get rewards, not the bratty ones.” He added while his hands lifted up to rest on your inner-thighs, so close to your pussy that it made you clench again. “Dennis…” You whined at him, but he only shook his head. One of his hands shifted and his index finger pushed between your puffy folds, making you gasp. His finger rubbed around, parting your pussy lips just to gather wetness that had leaked from your hole.
You tried to not move, standing still as your boyfriend teased your cunt with his finger. He rolled the pad of it around your clit, smearing slick there before pushing his digit back between your folds. “Such a wet pussy. You like being punished?” He asked and you shook your head, another pout on your face. “No, I don’t. I like when you touch me and make me feel good.” You replied and Dennis chuckled, eyebrows raising up on his forehead like he was surprised by your answer.
“That’s a lot of fucking words for someone so bratty all the time. You think you deserve to feel good?” You wanted to say yes; because duh. You deserve the pleasure and to feel good all the time, but you knew that’s not the answer Dennis was waiting for, so you thought better than to say yes. “No, I don’t. Not right now, at least.” That made him smile and you then felt another finger meet his index. “That’s a good girl. So smart, aren’t you?”
His fingers teased your wet pussy, spreading your folds apart while you tried to not move away or thrust your hips toward him. A third finger was added just to press against your clit and Dennis shifted on the couch to sit at the edge, just to be closer to you.
He didn’t say anything else as his attention was taken by your sloppy cunt. His index and ring fingers were spreading you apart while his middle finger pressed and rubbed at your clit, smearing more wetness around. You sighed at the feeling, your hands closing into fists.
“That feels good, uh? Your pussy likes it.” You heard your boyfriend say, and you nodded. “It feels so good, Dennis, mmhfph.” It was getting harder to not move or react to his touch, but you knew he would stop if you did anything to show the pleasure you were getting.
Dennis’s fingers moved, exploring your pussy before you felt them at your leaking hole; two fingertips were pushing against the muscle there. “If you move, I stop, got it?” He said, looking up at your face and you nodded at his words. “Yes, yes… I got it. Please, touch me.” The impatience in your words made him chuckle and he licked his lips before pushing his fingers inside you. His fingers slipped inside you with ease with how wet you were being, but a slight burning sensation still took over your walls. Dennis waited a second before curling his fingers.
“Fuck, ah!” You cried out, closing your fists tighter and thighs shaking slightly with the sensation. Your head rolled to the ceiling, and you tried to think of something else so your body wouldn’t move.
“Good girl, being so obedient. See? You don’t have to be bratty all the time.” Dennis’ words echoed in the room before he started to thrust his fingers in and out of your sloppy pussy; his fingers already coated with your wetness. He held your hip with his free hand, pulling you closer while he fingered you; slowly at first, just to make you adjust.
Then, his palm rested flat against your folds, the heel of it tapping and rubbing against your slick clit each time he thrusted his fingers inside you. “Please, God, it feels so good…” You whined, head falling back down just to look at your boyfriend. “Feels good, pretty girl? You like having my fingers inside your pussy?” He asked, looking up at your face while fingering you. The tip of his fingers curled against your gummy walls, feeling the spongy texture as he searched for your g-spot.
Everything was sticky and slick as your juice leaked to his knuckles and to his palm when he pressed it flat against your folds once more. The heel of his palm rubbed your clit on purpose, bringing another layer of stimulation to your body. You did your best to not move your hands and rest them onto Dennis’ shoulders, or to not thrust your hips toward his face for more.
“Your pussy is squeezing my fingers, fuck. I want to bury my cock in here but you have been bratty all day, you don’t deserve it.” Dennis groaned the words.
Your eyebrows furrowed and you bit your lips before voicing back. “I’ll be a good girl, please… Can I have your cock?” Your boyfriend chuckled at the words leaving your mouth and he suddenly fastened the pace of his fingering. Loud squelching noises were heard, created by the amount of wetness at your cunt. “Fuck no. That’s what you get for being so fucking mean all day long. You take what I give you, got it?” You nodded your head, thighs shaking and mouth wide.
The pleasure coursed through your body, a pool of warmth laying at your lower-belly. “Yes, Sir! Yes, fuck! I’ll take it!” You replied, then.
The heel of his palm slapped directly onto your puffy clit, your wetness splashing onto your boyfriend’s hand and knuckles as he finger-fucked you faster. The feeling of the carpet under your feet was overwhelming; and so was the slight buzzing noise of the TV, even though it was off. Your toes curled from the pleasure, your nails buried inside the skin of your palms and you cried out.
“Feels so good! Please! Please, I want to come!” The words left your mouth suddenly, and Dennis went even faster with his pace; skin slapping skin echoed in the apartment as his palm hit your cunt each time his fingers buried back into your warmth.
“You want to come on my fingers? You think you deserve it after being a fucking brat all day long?” He spoke, voice rough due to the efforts he was doing to finger you, his head tilted up to look at your voice. “Look at me.” The words made your eyes lower to lock onto his own, shame coursing your body and mind at that moment. You nodded your head. “Yes, please, I want it so much! I want to come on your fingers, Dennis.”
You felt your orgasm getting closer and closer as your boyfriend thrusted his fingers inside you. It was close, so close that your mouth fell open and your eyebrows furrowed—and then, it was gone. “No, no, please!” You gasped loudly as Dennis suddenly pulled his digits out of your cunt right before you could come; your thighs trembling and a feeling of deception filled your body.
You whined and squirmed but all Dennis did was grab your hips and pull you onto his lap, making you straddle him.
Your pussy pulsated, your face was sweaty and warm as you sat down onto your boyfriend, almost searching for friction. He stopped you, hands tight on your hips. “You don’t deserve it, remember? Bratty girls don’t get rewards, I told you.” Dennis said, and yet, leaned his face closer just to press a kiss to your sweaty forehead. You took a deep breath after that; you should have known better than to think he was going to let you come. You nodded at his words, hands resting on his shoulders, digits playing with the fabric of his hospital scrubs. “I wanted it so much.” You still replied.
Dennis kissed your cheek, and then, the tip of your nose. “I know, but it’s the rules. You don’t get to come if you are a brat.” Your cunt pulsated again, you wanted to rub it off but stopped yourself from moving anyway. The sensation of Dennis’ hands on your waist made you feel warm and you relaxed, trying to forget about the denied orgasm.
You watched his face as he spoke again. “If you are a good girl tomorrow, I’ll fuck you, how about that? I’ll take you on the couch, on the kitchen counter and on the bed. I’ll fill you up with so much come that you won’t be able to think about anything else but me for days.”
The words leaving his mouth made your hole clench around air and you nodded. “I want that.” He nodded, leaning his face closer just to kiss your lips, before speaking against them. “All you have to do is be good, then.”
One of his hands gently tapped your waist after a quiet and comfortable moment of kissing. “Why don’t you go and take a shower while I heat up the burgers? Today’s shift have been insane, I just want to watch a movie now.” You smiled at his words before standing up from his lap, walking backwards toward the bathroom.
“Okay, sounds like a plan to me!” You heard Dennis chuckle when you entered the bathroom, his voice louder when he added. “Bet you’re going to fall asleep in front of the TV, anyway.”
It’s the feeling of your cold tongue that brings a moan out of Sam’s mouth; it’s quiet, wet, full of pleasure.
He tries his best to lower his voice so you don’t hear it but it doesn’t truly work, and you’re left with the sound vibrating in your ear. The tip of your tongue presses against the slit of his tip, teasing the sensitive skin here before curling all the way around his mushroom head. The brown-haired man tries his best to not jerk his hips up toward your mouth but fuck, it’s hard to not do so.
“F-fuck, feels so good.” You hear the words leaving his mouth, all trembling when you run your tongue all the way down his length and toward his balls. You don’t reply, because you’re way too busy with his cock to care. But you sure feel the way Sam’s thigh trembles under your hand when you squeeze it, making his cock twitch against your tongue.
Your free hand moves to grab it at the base, angling for the tip to rub onto your lips. It makes you smile, to see him so submissive; it’s so new, so fresh. “You like this, Sammy? You like my tongue playing with your cock?” You end up asking after letting your tongue lick up at his sticky tip, the salty pre-cum on your taste buds.
A bead of sweat rolls from his forehead and he nods his head at your words. It’s not enough for you and to tease him, you open your mouth and let his mushroom head feel the warmth of your cavern. Sam whines at the feeling, trying once more to jerk his hips toward you, but you don’t let him. “Use your words, you’re a big boy, aren’t you?” You voice at him, then.
“I am! I am! I just can’t use my brain right now with all your teasing.” He ends up saying and amusement appears on your face.
“Interesting to know. Can you think when I do that?” You ask Sam before wrapping your lips around his bulbous, angry red and leaking tip. He cursed immediately, his head rolling toward the ceiling as you started to suck him off very slowly and gently. You hollowed your cheeks, pressed your tongue against his length all while moving your head up and down, his tip carefully hitting your palate as you tried to go deeper.
Sam’s hands moved to grab the edge of the chair he was sitting on, his eyes closing tight so he wouldn’t come so fast.
After a second, his head rolled back, his eyes open so he could watch you as you were on your knees; one hand on his thigh while the other was wrapped around the base of his fat cock. The brown-haired man gasped, his mouth falling wide open as he watched you. “God, fuck—you make me feel so good… Please, don’t stop.” He whined at you, muscles contracting to stop himself from thrusting up.
Your own eyes looked up as you lowered your head again, now feeling his tip hit the back of your throat which made you gag and choke. You pulled away, a thread of saliva connecting your lips to Sam’s cock. You didn’t lose a second before moving your hand up and down his throbbing cock; teasing him with the slowest pace you could use. His thighs shook and he looked at you. “Please, please… I want to come so bad.” He only said, feeling his balls twitch from the pleasure he felt.
“Mhh, I don’t know… Already? That’s kinda pathetic.” You replied to him.
Sam didn’t have time to reply as you lowered your head back to his cock, wrapping your lips around his girth just so suck him off once more. You went faster now; hollowing more of your cheeks, pressing your tongue against the veins all along his shaft, deep-throating him until you gagged and needed air. It was messy—saliva leaking from the corners of your lips just to end up pooling at his balls.
You hand keep jerking him off at the same time all while switching to rub and roll his balls in your palm for more stimulation. Sam was also a mess: whining and squirming on the chair, talking nonsense, body shaking. “Fuck, fuck! Your mouth is so good… I love it so much. Makes me feel so good. Please, can I come? Please?” He cried out to you, hazel eyes big and puppy-like, with tears at the corners.
You pulled away from his cock once more to jerk him off; now faster and harder. His balls slapped back on his thighs each time you lowered your hand, skin-slapping-skin and wet noises echoed in the room.
“My baby wants to come? You want to come in my mouth?” You asked him and his lips fell apart, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as you kept jerking him off. You could feel the way his shaft was throbbing in your hand, all wet with pre-cum and saliva each made everything more slickery. “Yes! Yes, please! I really want to.” He whined back at you, pleasure all over his face.
You hummed before going back for his cock, wrapping your lips around the tip for the third time now. But instead of lowering your head, you started to only suck on the bulbous head. Sam arched his back at the feeling, his biceps bulging as he tightened his grip on the chair. “God! Fuck, I’m going to come…” He groaned as you sucked on his tip, your hand still jerking him off; your tongue rolled on his mushroom head, teasing the slit.
He only needed a few more stimulation before coming with a loud groan. His load was warm and thick as he shot it inside your mouth and you immediately stopped your ministrations so you wouldn’t lose a drop. Sam’s breathing was labored and his cheeks were red.
His hazel eyes were half-lidded but that didn’t stop him from looking at your face when you swallowed his come. “You’re so pretty right now.” He ended up saying, all dizzy and cock throbbing while slowly softening.
“I’m pretty when I swallow your come?” You asked, amusement on your face and Sam shook his head.
“No, you’re pretty. You’re always pretty. Even when you don’t swallow it. I have no idea what I’m saying, my thoughts are literally in shambles.” He laughed, leaning back into the chair as you stood up, brushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead. “You’re pretty too, Sammy. Especially when you come in my mouth.”
The words made him laugh again, rolling his eyes at you but his hands lifted to grab your waist, bring you closer. “I should do it more often, then?”
summary ; based off an anon request for something related to s1 pope when we first meet him and see that he's a bit of an off-putting character.
wc ; ~1.3k
warnings ; story refers to him as 'pope' , reader refers to him as 'andrew' , gn!reader , 18+ mdni (no nsfw, you just shouldn't be on my page if you're under 18) , language , gen descriptions of violence (the cody's are a criminal family) , implied animal kingdom spoilers if you haven't seen any of the show or anything about the show , language , talk of mental health (OCD , autism , violent tendencies + outbursts , general descriptions of trauma faced growing up but nothing detailed ) medications + being off of them, pope in general is described as a creep or off-putting in s1. that's what this is.
an ; baby's first fic, so of course it had to be over my love and my baby pope cody. please be kind if you have criticism or a general dislike. i am open to critiques, suggestions, etc., just don't be rude! taglist is open here for being tagged in any future works, and requests are open here. thank u my queen @jclolz22 for proofreading this (and everything i publish on this page). please do not repost, republish or reuse my work as your own or without asking me for permission first.
as mika says it best, reblogs are a creators best friend so please show this some attention so i can spread my work all throughout tumblr
Growing up surrounded by the likes of the Cody family made for an interesting childhood, to say the least. You had befriended Craig when the two of you met on the slides in middle school, and he had naturally brought home his new “best friend” to meet his family, before he realized what exactly his family would drag him into when he was of age. It was that first dinner when you met Pope, or Andrew as you preferred to call him, seeing as no one else in the family would use his birth-given name. Seven years older, yet you immediately managed to befriend him. In Cody family terms, you managed to get him to look at you and speak, not just one or the other.
Befriending not one, but two Cody children, automatically made you part of the family in Smurf’s eyes. Family dinners? You were there. Mission planning disguised as a neighborhood party? You were there. No one heard the name of a Cody son without your name following shortly after, and it grew to be the expectation as you got older that more often than not, your name would follow Pope’s, not Craig’s.
The two of you got along like… well, you got along. You taught him ways to manage his anger, to help subside the urge he constantly felt to wash his hands till they were raw and dry. You were there whenever he was skateboarding, surfing, etc. It even got to the point you moved in when you turned eighteen, deciding that Smurf could provide for you better than your own family ever did. Point is, you were like his shadow. Where there was Pope, there was you.
Then he went to jail. For being sixteen seconds late to Baz driving off, and being caught with a tote bag of money and one too many guns.
Three years went by with Pope in a jail cell, and you carried on with life as it was at the Cody compound, but without him. He somehow got out three years early on “good behavior,” he told you the day he came back a few weeks ago. Told you he reigned in his anger, made a buddy, and just kept his head down in hopes they would let him out early. But he was… off, these days. Which is saying something for a man like Pope.
You’d wake up to him missing from your shared bed only to find him out by the pool, or maybe quietly hovering in the living room as if he had been sleepwalking and didn’t remember bringing himself out there. But he was awake. Everytime. His staring had gotten a bit worse from what you remember, too. Eyes always lingering on someone, intense and unblinking. There was a newfound tension in his shoulders, a new stiffness to his posture. A new aversion to things that used to not bother him as much. The handwashing came back, too, and worse than ever.
It was late when you stepped into the bedroom that night, exhaling as you set aside a used towel from your shower before pausing when you saw Pope sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at a wall. “Andrew…?” You murmur, feet barely making any sound as you pad over the wood floors to stand beside him, watching as he tenses up at the feeling of your hand landing on his shoulder before meeting his gaze when he lifts it to you. “Smurf’s been sneaking meds into my food.” He spoke as he stared at you, still unblinking even now. “Didn’t… I didn’t even realize till they almost brought me back to Folsom today because I failed a drug test. Did you know?” He spoke, gaze going from the floor to you again, still blank though there was a furrow between his brows now.
“Did you know Smurf was forcing me to take my meds? When she knows I hate taking them? When she knows I could’ve been sent back to jail?” He asked again, standing slowly as you shook your head and raised your hand ever so slightly in a placating gesture. “Andrew, I would’ve done something if I knew.” You mumble softly, watching as he ran a frustrated hand through his cropped hair.
“Dumped ‘em down the sink. I’m done taking them.” He spoke as he stared down at you. “She thinks I’m crazy, but I’m not. I’m done taking them, I’m not going back to Folsom.” He mumbled, brushing past you and leaving the room without allowing you to argue with his sentiment, though you both knew you wouldn’t. You exhale for a moment as you stand there before just shaking your head, watching him go, since you knew he needed a moment to get it off his chest and then a moment to breathe.
The wandering around the compound, the staring, and the handwashing all got a bit more intense after Pope made a show of throwing the meds away in front of Smurf so she knew not to push it anymore. Not to push him like that anymore. A bit of yelling, some shattered glasses thrown at Smurf, and the pills being shoved down the sink later, she finally understood his point. For now, at least, since she always had to have a hold over her sons in some form.
You had been sleeping in your shared bed before waking up slightly when you felt someone staring at you, exhaling as you shifted to find Pope sitting up and staring over you, his gaze shifting to acknowledge you were now awake. “Andrew, you should be sleeping.” You mumble, voice rough with sleep as you sit up on an elbow, looking up at him.
“Do I creep you out?” He mumbled as he looked down at you, still unblinking, still blank, and waiting quietly for an answer before speaking again without waiting anymore. “I creep Craig and Deran out. Probably creep J out too, Smurf, even.” He spoke, eyes scanning your face as if gauging your reply to his words. “So, do I creep you out?” He repeated, watching as you slowly took in his words in your sleep-addled brain before shaking your head, inhaling tiredly as you sat up fully and clicked a lamp on.
“No, you don’t creep me out.” You finally murmur. “And, Andrew, I didn’t know about the meds. You have to believe me when I say that.” You say, watching as he finally blinks, processing everything you were telling him. “But no, you don’t creep me out. Haven’t since I met you when I was eight.” You say quietly, shifting to look at him a bit better. “You…” A soft sigh separated your statements as you thought of what to say to keep him reassured, at least for the night, so he would sleep. “It doesn’t matter what your family thinks about you. Everyone here has their own issues to worry about.” You finally mumble softly. “Smurf needs to get her properties in check, Craig needs to get his problem with that girl and her family settled, and Deran… is Deran.” You say, shifting a bit to accompany him as he scoots closer.
“I know it sucks, I know your family sucks, but that’s why you have me. That’s why I stick around, so you know if all else fails, you have at least one person to turn to. You could never creep me out, Andrew. I’m always here for you.” You murmur, fingers slowly coming to rest on his scalp as his head lies against your collarbone, listening to you speak and your heartbeat as you speak, his fist curling into the sheets as he nods slowly. “I’d never think of you as a freak or… or a creep. You’re Andrew, to me. Always have been, always will be. Just that. Andrew.” You finally quiet down, thumb rubbing at his cheekbone as he visibly settles down in your grasp, quietly staring at the wall ahead of the pair of you before speaking up, shifting slightly to look up at you as he spoke, his voice a gentle murmur in the night.
matthew murdock and the way he handles his religious guilt and trauma is something so near and dear to my heart. did not anticipate to get so sucked into this show the way i did. i’m already on season 3 and i started it a few weeks ago. thanks for coming to my ted talk 🩷
i also love foggy nelson but that doesn’t really have to do with the previous statement. 3 apples tall.
fluff !!!!! & hurt/comfort blurb. babydoll!reader & soft!pope. established relationship. domestic intimacy. emotional vulnerability. gentle physical affection. mention of baz and smurf. post-argument comfort.
reblog is a creator's best-friend, thank you!!
Pope comes through the front door of your apartment already carrying tension in every part of his body.
You hear it before you see him; the sharp slam of the screen door against the frame, heavy shoes dragging against the wooden floorboards, the irritated exhale that leaves him like he’s trying not to put his fist through the nearest wall. You’re curled at the far end of the couch in one of those oversized pink knit cardigans you practically live in, a crochet blanket pooled over your legs and a half-finished cup of chamomile tea cooling on the coffee table.
The little lamp in the corner throws soft golden light over the space, making the entire house feel warmer than it usually does. Pope stands there for a second near the entrance of your living room, chest rising unevenly, jaw clenched so tightly you can practically see the muscle twitching beneath his skin.
“Pope?” you ask softly, setting your book down immediately.
His eyes flick toward you but he doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he runs both hands over his face, shoulders tense, frustration practically radiating off him in waves. “Baz,” he mutters bitterly, pacing once toward the kitchen before turning sharply back again. “Fucking Baz thinks he knows everything. Always has to push, always thinks he can tell me what to do.”
You don’t interrupt, you never do when he gets like this because it’s important for you to give him space, let him speak about how he feels.
Instead, you quietly push the blanket off your lap and stand, padding barefoot across the room until you’re standing directly in front of him. Pope barely notices at first, still breathing too hard, eyes somewhere far away where the anger still sits sharp in his chest. Then your hands find him; one settles gently against his forearm and the other presses softly against his chest. “Hey,” you whisper. Something shifts inside him immediately at the sound of your voice.
Pope finally looks down at you properly (really looks) and suddenly there’s this visible crack in all that tension, something softer flickering underneath the anger he walked in carrying. “He pisses me off,” he says quieter now, almost like confession.
“I know, lovely.” Your fingers slide upward slowly until both arms wrap around his waist, your cheek pressing lightly against the front of his shirt. The contact is delicate, careful, but unwavering; like you know exactly how much pressure his fractured edges can take. For a second he just stands there, a bit awkward like he doesn’t know what to do or say. Then, slowly, Pope exhales shakily and folds around you.
His arms come down heavy and certain, pulling you impossibly close against him, burying his face into the top of your hair where you smell faintly like vanilla lotion, mango perfume and fabric softener. You feel the tension leave him piece by piece when he’s closer like that.
“You always do this,” he murmurs against your hair, voice rough but softer now. You tilt your head up slightly, smiling gently at his words because you know what he is about to say before he does. “Do what?”
“Make me calm down, make me feel better and shit. Like all my problems just disappears.” Your hand rubs slowly along his back beneath his shirt. “I like taking care of you, that’s why.” Pope goes quiet after that. His grip tightens almost desperately, like he needs to feel something gentle after spending too long surrounded by sharp edges.
And with you standing there; soft cardigan sleeves, sleepy eyes, warmth pressed against his chest, the whole world finally stops feeling so loud. He forgets about Baz, about Smurf, about his brothers.
You stay tucked against him for another quiet minute, listening to the slow way his breathing finally begins to settle beneath your cheek. Your fingers continue tracing lazy patterns over the back of his shirt before you tilt your head slightly, just enough to look up at him through soft lashes. “Do you wanna tell me what happened?” you ask quietly, your voice careful in the way it always is with him when he comes home carrying too much anger.
Pope’s jaw shifts slightly and he looks away for a second, eyes fixed somewhere past the living room window. “Baz was running his mouth again,” he mutters, bitterness lingering there. “Acting like I can’t think for myself. Like I need him telling me what I should be doing all the time.” His arms tighten instinctively around your waist after saying it, like even talking about it irritates him all over again.
You frown softly at that, one hand sliding upward until your fingers gently brush through the hair near his temple, smoothing it back without thinking.
“I don’t like when he talks to you like that,” you murmur. Pope finally looks down at you then, some of that frustration melting the second he sees the genuine concern sitting in your expression. “You know…” you continue quietly, your thumb brushing lightly against his cheekbone now, “I think people forget you’re softer than you let them see.”
That catches him off guard enough that he actually goes still for a second.
You smile gently, leaning up just enough to press a tiny kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I see you,” you whisper. Pope stares at you for a moment before exhaling quietly, forehead dropping against yours. “Thank you for this… For listening without judging me. I love you so much, you know?”
The words leaving his mouth brings a brighter smile to your face and you lean it closer, nuzzling your nose against his own before replying; voice all quiet and soft. “I love you too, Pope Cody.”
taglist ﹏ @dumbbandpoetic @bluestrd @userhotd ( to be added )
summary ﹏ When Pope gets new furniture for his room, all you can think about is how you should inaugurate it. He has a meeting with his brothers and J, but who cares if he's a little late to it?
cw ﹏ ( +18 ) mdni / smut fic. afab!reader. established relationship. spontaneous sex / quickie sex. kissing. praise. dirty-talking. cowgirl position. semi-exhibitionism&voyeurism theme while being caught by Craig. petname (baby). groping. light hair pulling. unprotected piv. clit stimulation. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. cockdrunk!reader. crying during sex / dacryphilia. creampie. light aftercare.
reblog is a creator's best-friend, thank you!!
“You got a new bed, uh?”
Your voice took Pope out of his thoughts as he pushed the new king size mattress into the bed frame. His hazel eyes looked up to see you leaning against the doorway, eyebrows furrowed which made a curious expression appear on your face. He hummed, nodding his head before replying. “Yeah, I needed a change. I didn’t like what was there before.”
He moved, sweeping the bare mattress with his hand as if there were crumbs on it and then, sat down. You licked your lips, looking around at the new furniture; it looked more mature, more adult-like. Your shoes taped on the floor as you walked closer to Pope, until you were standing right between his legs, hands moving to rest on his broad shoulders.
“It looks good, I think. More… you, in a way.” You nodded at him, eyes looking down to realize he was already watching you. “We should inaugurate it, don’t you think?”
His head tilted to the side as he took your words in, as if he was trying to understand what you meant by them. His strong hands moved to rest on your hips, fingers playing with the thin mesh overlay of your short skirt. He seemed deep into his thoughts before his hazel orbs locked into your face again. “I have a meeting with J, I don’t have time, baby.” But you shrugged at the words leaving his mouth.
“No one said it had to take time, you know. We could be done in ten minutes.” Your hands moved to pull the fabric of your skirt up to your hips so it wouldn’t bother you when you ended up straddling Pope’s thighs. He groaned at the weight of you onto his bulge, but his hands followed the movement of your body and grabbed the fat of your hips to bring you closer. You sighed, sitting directly above his shaft but the rough fabric of his jeans were bothering you, making you squirm.
“You promise to be fast?” He asked, eyes locking onto yours and you nodded. You knew how important it was for him to respect time and rules. “Of course, I promise. But you want it too, don’t you?” You asked then, leaning your face closer just to press a kiss to his cheek and to his forehead and then, to his lips.
Pope’s hands tightened their grip onto your hips as you kissed him, making you roll on top of him. A sigh escaped his mouth, muffled by your own.
“Can’t stop thinking about y’pussy, I want you all the time.” You heard him reply against your lips before he pulled away just to see your expression. Your hands moved to wrap around his nape, fingers scratching at the hair at the base of his neck which made Pope groan loudly, his hands helping your hips move on top of his own. The rough denim of his jeans burned your inner-thighs with the force he used to make you move, but the pain mixed with pleasure as your clit rubbed against his zipper. Your pussy leaked, creating a damp patch in the center of your panties.
You moaned his name, licking your lips while resting your forehead against his jawline. “Need to be inside your pussy—” He whined at you and your hands immediately moved, movements rushed as you unbuttoned his pants, the fly opening by itself as you pushed the fabric out of the way and freeing his now hard cock. The tip was angry red, beads of pre-cum making it glisten as the veins along his length throbbed for attention.
Pope hissed as you wrapped one hand around his cock, hips jerking up. He licked his lips. “I don’t have any condom on me.” You whined, shrugging. “Don’t care, I need you to feel you inside me.”
Your body shifted, hips lifting up as you angled Andrew’s cock toward your sloppy hole, your free hand pushing your panties to the side. Thread of wetness connected your skin to the cotton tissue; a telltale of the mess your cunt was. Cold air hit your glistening skin, making you shiver as the mushroom tip of Pope’s cock teased your puffy folds, and you gathered some wetness onto it before gently pushing down onto it.
A gasp left your mouth as your boyfriend’s hands moved to your hips, helping you gently to sit down on his shaft. Pleasure took over your facial expression; your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth fell wide open and you moaned loudly when Pope’s cock filled you up.
Your walls stretched around him, pulsating and leaking to ease him deeper. Immediately, his cock twitched inside you but neither of you moved, giving you time to adjust a bit more to the position. Like that, he felt so much deeper inside you than usual; his mushroom head kissing your cervix gently.
“Fuck, you’re so… so fucking tight.” You heard Pope say, eyebrows furrowed just like yours had been a few instants ago. His large palms groped the fat of your hips, squeezing the flesh there before he caressed your skin. “My cock feels so warm. I don’t want to move.” He groaned, his forehead falling against your shoulder and he rested like that for a moment. Your hands moved and ended up running through his hair, tugging gently on the locks.
You squeezed your walls around his twitching cock and Pope gasped, before remembering that he didn’t had much time to fuck you before he needed to go, and his head lifted up to look at you. “Move, baby.” He ordered, even if his voice was gentle when speaking to you. “You’re so impatient. Afraid to be late?” You joked at him, but all he did was jerk his hips up inside you, making you gasp. The tip of his fat cock pushed against your cervix, mixing pain and pleasure through your body. Once more, your hands moved to grab his shoulders and you started to move.
Skin slapping skin echoed in his room as you lifted your hips up and let down fall back down onto his hard cock. “Fuck! Pope, fuck!” You cried out as your boyfriend helped you, lifting you off of his shaft and pulling you back down with more force; your pussy leaking down to his balls and making them slap and stick to your ass each time. A ring of creamy white had already started to appear all around the base of his shaft, dragging up to his tip.
You could only wrap your arms around his shoulders to not fall over with the force he was using to move you up and down. Tears had started to form at the corners of your eyes, pleasure making you feel all fuzzy and weak; unable to form coherent sentences even though Pope was speaking to you.
“Good girl, yeah, clench that pussy for me.” You whined, head resting against his shoulder as you clenched your gummy walls, making him groan loudly.
His hands moved to the fat of your ass, groping it in his strong palms before spreading your asscheeks to get deeper inside your pussy. “Pope! Mhhmfuck! Please!” You moaned into his ears and his hips jerked up at the same time he pulled you down on his cock. Your words made him fasten the pace, and louder squelching noises echoed in the room, mixing with your groaning and moaning. “Yeah? You wanted my cock so bad and now look at you.” He hissed, voice wavering due to the efforts he was making to fuck you.
You rolled your hips, trying to get his tip to rub your g-spot when a loud door slamming noise was heard. You gasped, lifting your head up and expected Pope to stop but he didn’t, bringing you harder onto his cock. “Pope! Fuck—” You whined, mouth wide open and eyes half-lidded. A voice spoke through the house, a voice you recognized as Craig’s.
“Pope?! You here?” It was followed by clattering and another door slamming.
Pope’s hips thrusted up faster and harder into your pussy instead of stopping, and you could only bounce up and down onto him as an answer. You forgot about the windows without curtains, about Craig, about being watched as your boyfriend’s hands squeezed the fat of your ass harder. “Keep moving, I’m close—” He groaned into your ear and you moaned, tightening your grip around his shoulders. Your hips rolled, his bulbous tip finally rubbing against your g-spot as you leaned your pelvis forward.
Your mouth fell wide open at the feeling, your bounce becoming messy. “Fuck, please, feels so good—!” You cried, fingers finding Pope’s hair again just to tug on it, making him hiss.
“Yeah? Your pussy feels good? It feels good knowing Craig could see us, uh?” He spoke into your ear, the words bringing shame and embarrassment to you, but you couldn’t stop your hips from moving. Your pussy clenched, gripping Pope’s cock tightly inside, milking him dry.
The skin slapping skin echoed louder, your ass slapping down onto Pope’s thighs all while his tip rubbed and hit your sweet spot. Your eyes lowered to where you both were connected; you watched as his cock disappeared inside your sloppy tight cunt, as creamy white juice made a mess onto his length, as how much you clenched when you felt your orgasm get closer.
Tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks, your face nuzzling against Pope’s when you spoke. “Please, I need to come! I want to come so bad!” The words made your boyfriend groan, his hips thrusted up faster, his balls slapping your ass.
“You want to come? I’ll make you come, baby. Come for me, be a good girl.” One of his hands left your ass after those words, making its way between your thighs just for his thumb to press against your clit and start to rub at it. It wasn’t gentle or attentive; but more slick and messy, trying to get you to your orgasm.
And it worked—a few more thrusts of his hips, his bulbous tip rubbing at your g-spot and his thumb against your bud of nerves and you were coming loudly; gasping and crying from the pleasure.
Your mouth fell open, your muscles contracted and shook as you tried to pull away with how strong the orgasm was. Pope held you close; still fucking you as he searched for his own release. Once again, a loud voice spoke inside the house.
“Pope, for fuck’s sake, you here?!” It was still Craig, frantic and voice mad. The noise of feet was heard right after, coming closer to the corridor and to Pope’s room. Your boyfriend groaned loudly, his balls slapping at your ass and echoing into the space which overstimulated you as he kept fucking you through your orgasm.
His voice buzzed into your ears as he spoke back. “Fucking coming! M’busy, asshole!”
A groan was heard, followed by a: “Move your ass!” from Craig.
You could have laughed in any other situation, but all you could do was nuzzle your face in his neck, muscles twitching and tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks as Pope buried his cock inside your sloppy cunt; making a mess of your juices that dripped from your hole and down to his balls. It made your inner-thighs stick to his own, sweat mixing with the lots. “Pope, please, I can’t—!” You cried, and both his hands moved back to your ass, spreading the cheeks apart to get deeper inside your hole.
“You can baby, you’re doing so good for me. Y’wanted to inaugurate the bed, remember? You’re takin’ it so good, baby. Such a good girl, taking all of my cock.” He hissed in your ear, pulling up and down onto his cock just for his mushroom tip to rub against your g-spot again, making you gasp and roll your hips to escape it. The pleasure was too good, making your head all fuzzy and thoughts disappear.
“I love when you make a mess on my cock. You have such a sweet pussy.” The words flew above your head, your face buried into Pope’s neck as he groaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy and messy.
His hands tightened their grip onto the fat of your ass, bruising it from how strong it was. “M’going to fill you up now, alright? I don’t have tissues to clean you up, I don’t want to make a mess.” You could only nod your head at his words, your mouth open, drool at the corner of your lips.
You were too far gone to hear the footsteps closer to the door and Craig’s curse. “Shit, Pope, close the fucking door!” The footsteps vanished and the sentence was thrown again. “No fuckin’ wonder we are late.” And once again, you could have apologized and laughed about the situation if you aren’t so cockdrunk right now. But Pope didn’t seem to care either as he thrusted inside your pussy with a faster pace, making you jump onto his cock.
One of his hands moved back between your thighs to rub at your sensitive clit.
You moaned, more tears falling down your cheeks at the pleasure. “Come on baby, I’m late. Wanna come for me again? Wanna make a mess on my cock so I remember your pussy all day long?” Your boyfriend spoke, to which you moaned, arms tightening around his neck and fingers tugging at his hair again. “Fuck—” He cursed when you squeezed your velvety walls around his fat cock, milking him dry.
You only needed a few more stimulation before coming again; less stronger than the first one but so good nonetheless. Pope followed you immediately, thrusting up one last time before burying himself inside your sloppy cunt to the hilt. You felt his bulbous tip pressed against your cervix, shooting his warm load directly into your womb. His hands held you down onto his cock; it twitched against your gummy walls as he filled you up to the brink. “Pope! Fuuuck!” You cried out at the feeling.
“I know, fuck, you’re so good… Such a good pussy, just for me. Filled up with all my come.” Pope groaned, sweaty forehead resting against your own. Neither of you moved then, taking a second to breath.
You felt your heart beating inside your cunt, an uncomfortable feeling that made you squirm and Pope sighed, wrapping his arms around you. “You were so good for me, you took it all.” The words made you hum, your hands brushing his curls away gently, before you cupped his jaw and tilted his head up.
“You were so good for me too, love. You made me feel so good.” Pope looked at him without replying before leaning his face closer and pressing a chaste kiss against your lips. His hands moved to rest onto your waist then, before he slowly helped you pull away. His semen immediately tried to leak out of your cunt as you sat on the bare mattress but you pulled your panties back in place so it wouldn’t stain the new sleeping furniture.
You took a deep breath, wiping your almost-dry tears as Pope tucked himself back into his jeans and brushed his curls away from his sweaty forehead. He shifted on the bed, turning to the side to look at you. “I’m late for the meeting now.” And that, that made you laugh. You nodded at him.
“Yeah, trust me, I gathered that from Craig catching us.” Pope only hummed at your words before leaning to kiss you again; softly, lingering. When he pulled away, his eyes swiftly looked over the room.
“I’ll install curtains to those windows, I think.” You smiled and nodded, because obviously, that was a good idea.
Pope looked back at you, head tilted to the side, hazel orbs locked into yours. “Will you be alright if I leave now? It’s an important meeting.” You waved your hand at him, eyes fond as your boyfriend stood up and bent over just to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Go, but we will be inaugurating the rest of the furniture later.” You saw the slight smirk on his face at the words leaving your mouth before he turned his back to you and left the room; leaving you on the bare mattress with a pussy filled with his come and a mess of underwear. In the background, you heard a bit of discussion between Pope and his younger brother as you rolled onto the bed.
“Damn, exhibistionnism, uh?”
“Shut the fuck up, Craig. Move, we’re late.”
“Yeah, well, I fucking wonder why.”
taglist ﹏ @dumbbandpoetic @bluestrd @userhotd ( to be added )
