Grabbing pope’s ass while he’s fucking you & he comes instantly about it am I right or am I right
oh mine gahdt *little german boy voice*...this is so hot ur so right..this also goes along with my hc that he has sensitive thighs
he'd literally be so overwhelmed with emotions after cumming early when you do it. hes fighting to make eye contact with you, not pulling out as he stares down at your pussy in thought. "you..you ok baby? what got you excited?" you pant, watching his brows furrow as he catches his breath. "i..i-i dunno. m'sorry baby let's keep going."
when he starts back up you see how focused he is, his face tight with concentration. for science, you do it again, bending dow to grab handfuls of his ass cheeks. his hips stutter and he groans again, "baby dont—" he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, slamming his hips into your cunt. "don't do that, okay? fuck,"
you giggle through your moans, locking your keys around his hips, "you like that andy? hm?" hes pink in the face, eyes squeezed hes soo embarrassed. he wouldn't know what to think.
he'd ask his brothers probably like a week later, ans they wsnt to take it serious so bad but Pope is so stoic. and serious asking about getting his ass grabbed. "has your girl ever done that before?" he asks Craig, who's fighting a smile. "oh yeah, tons of times. I just..I don't think I've came immediately about it." he'd shrug, Pope slugging Darren in the arm when he chuckles.
"i dunno man I think you should just let her fuck your ass and get over it." Pope has left the room.
cameron cassmore is a munch who whines against your pussy while his tongue's buried inside you (bc he just loves pleasing u so much), i don't make the rules.
thinking about pope whose mouth immediately latches on to you any time he wakes up from a nightmare. there's very little that calms him down after them, but sucking on your tits always seems to. especially on the nights when you stir awake from the feeling and jerk him off til comes.
warnings: boot riding (shocker), use of daddy + petnames, mildly bratty reader, praise, masturbation
notes: this is not proofread, i am sleepy, @thoroughfareblues here you go
rhett loves keeping you denied when he's working long hours or away for competitions. he'll make you come over and over the night before- never wanting his girl to go unsatisfied- but tells you you're not allowed to touch yourself while he's gone. because he wants to be there for every whine, every gasp, every buck of your hips. and you're always rewarded when he gets home.
but when he forgets to treat you the night before a rodeo weekend, you get grumpy. needy. a little whiny. so for once, you don't listen. when you head to bed that night, not expecting him home until tomorrow, you slip your vibe between your thighs. giving yourself the pleasure rhett so carelessly denied you yesterday. who cares if you're disobeying him? you haven't come in a couple days, and it's not like he'll know.
rhett, however, had made plans to slip away from the events early. you don't hear the door opening over the sound of the vibrations. the vibrations which were very audible to him as he made his way to your bedroom.
he opens the door, crossing his arms. when you don't look up at him, he calls out a little "baby." his voice is husky. disapproving. it sends shocks of pleasure to your core, and even as you meet his eyes, you can't bring yourself to stop.
"you forgot to- take care of me last night." you mumble between whines, eyes darting away from him.
"and that means you get to break the rules?" his voice doesn't waver. he strips his hat and jacket as he steps deeper into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"i got my little dove so spoiled that she can't even go a day without her daddy makin' her come, hm?" rhett's hand snakes between your thighs, gripping your wrist until you let go of the vibrator. he switches it off and tosses it towards the edge of the bed, out of your reach. you whine, moving to use your fingers instead, but he grabs your wrists once more, holding both still in his grip. his eyes are dark, looking down at you.
"get on your knees." he demands. you swallow, shifting on the bed, but he cuts you off. "on the floor, baby."
despite the confusion in your eyes, you follow his order. as you sink down to the floor, rhett's fingers tangle in your hair. he tugs you towards him, the feeling sending sparks through you. his gaze is unflinching as he slides his boot between your legs, lifting his foot a bit so it presses against you. a whimper leaves you at the contact and your hips buck mindlessly, earning you a chuckle from rhett. "you needy, huh? daddy's so mean, making you stop touchin' yourself."
"please, daddy." you whine, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. he just lifts his boot again, leaning back.
"ride it." what? what does he-
"my boot, little dove. if you're really so desperate to come, then ride my boot 'til you do. that's all you're gettin' from me. good girls get rewarded, and we both know you ain't been good."
you whimper, heat flooding your cheeks, but your hips give another little roll. relenting, you collapse down fully against him, the leather giving you the perfect amount of friction. the return of pleasure feels amazing, despite how humiliating the circumstances are. your hands grip his thigh for purchase as your head falls back a little, finding a rhythm against him.
"atta girl... look so fuckin' pretty down there, all desperate like that." rhett's drawl is more pronounced through the haze he's fallen under. your eyes flit up to see him palming himself through his jeans, gaze locked on the sight before him. you must look a mess, sweaty and mindless. but none of that matters now. all you can think about is how perfect rhett looks and how fucking good his boot feels against you.
that coil in your stomach starts tightening, your movements growing uneven as you feel it build. rhett's hand moves to your hair, tilting your head up to look at him. "you gonna come for me, little dove? gonna make a mess of daddy?" you nod desperately. rhett presses up against you once more, giving you the extra edge you need to come. and you do, soaking the leather of his boot in your slick and collapsing against his leg.
"such a good girl. did so good for me, baby. so good." he praises, his hand still raking through your hair as you come down. he pulls you up into his lap, kissing your forehead and stroking your arms. you're exhausted, slumped against him while your body returns to normal.
"'m sorry i touched myself, daddy." you slur against his neck, sleepy and remorseful. he just laughs a little, the sound vibrating against your hair. "nah, ain't gotta be sorry, angel. kinda liked seeing you ride me like that, anyways. got me all worked up."
at the small look of disbelief in your eyes, he takes your hand and pulls it to the still-aching bulge in his jeans, the feeling making you gasp. his head falls back a bit as you continue to touch him, eager to show him how grateful you are for letting you come.
for my lovely @valleyanimalz. i hope this is good for u oomfie <3 this might be one of my favorite things i've ever written im not even gonna lie to you LMAO
pope isn't a bad dog. he doesn't know why he bites. but he knows he does. and because of that, you need to stay away from him
masterlist
warnings: smut (18+), hard fuckin with a side of petplay hell yea, pope being himself
w.c.: 2.4k
You weren’t even supposed to be at the Cody house, really. Smurf was throwing a party that night and asked you to drop off some beers. When you rounded the corner of the yard, you saw him. Pope Cody. Straddling a man with his fist raised and blood dripping from his fingers. Smurf sat in a chair, lazily watching the scene unfold. You stumbled to a halt. You knew who Pope was. You’d been working with the Codys for a long time, running little errands they didn’t feel like doing. You had gotten especially close to Pope, bringing him food on surveillance missions and staying to talk with him. The two of you had a friendship, and by the way he looked at you, you assumed there was a spark of something more. Smurf had noticed, too, and she wanted you to see first hand what Pope was capable of. She thought it would scare you away, leave her son alone so he could remain indebted to her.
When you let out a little gasp, Pope instantly looked up, pausing the beating and locking eyes with you. Emotion washed over his features, but only for a moment. It was long enough. He looked scared, guilty, hurt. You didn’t say anything. Your expression was enough: wide-eyed and uneasy. Your gaze flicked from him, to his fist, to the pulpy face of the man he was holding up by his shirt. Pope immediately let go of the man and he fell to the ground with a grunt. He pushed himself up and stalked into the house, shaking out his hand. You followed after him, setting the case of beer down next to Smurf, who was trying and failing to hide her smirk.
You found Pope in his bedroom, leaning against his dresser with a wide stance. His face was drawn tight and his eyes were wattery, like he was trying not to cry. He pressed his lips together and they moved with words he was saying in his mind.
“You shouldn’t be here.” He told you. His voice was wet. “You…you shouldn’t have seen me like that.” A tear slipped from his eye and he sharply turned his head. You entered the room calmly.
“It’s okay.” You assured him. You placed your fingers on his forearm and he just lowered his head and clenched his fist tighter. He was shaking. “You didn’t…you didn’t scare me. I know what you do.” He eyes flicked to yours, a small simmer of rage behind them.
“What I do?” He repeated. “What I do. I scare people. I hurt people. You should be terrified of me.”
“Maybe.” You said and cast your eyes down. His face fell a little. “But I’m not.” When you looked back up at him, your eyes were blazing.
You crashed your lips onto his, fisting his shirt to pull him even closer to you. At first, Pope reciprocated, clashing his tongue against yours and letting out a little moan into your mouth. But a few moments later, he roughly pushed you away. Not harsh enough to hurt you, just to get you off him. You stumbled back, blinking in surprise.
“Pope, what-”
“Stop!” He barked, turning sideways so he didn’t have to look at you. “Just…stop.” His breathing was ragged and his hands came up behind his head, tugging at his own hair. Pope paced around the room like a caged animal. You watched him nervously. Your heart cracked at the rejection, tears prickling at your eyes.
“I…I thought that…” You whispered, afraid that your voice would break if you raised. “I thought you wanted me.” Pope’s eyes snapped to yours, confusion building behind them.
“I do want you.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Then kiss me.” You took a step towards him but he stepped back.
“No.”
“Why not?” You hissed, hands curling into a fist. “Why won’t you let yourself do this one thing? Fuck’s sake, Pope!” Pope glared at you. He took a deep breath and marched over to you, getting close to you without actually touching.
“Because I don’t deserve it.” He seethed through gritted teeth, looking down at you from over his nose with crazed eyes. “Because you’re perfect and I’m some miserable mutt. All I know how to do is steal and kill. I can never get the blood out from under my fingernails, you know that? No matter how hard and how long I scrub them. It’s always there. And I know that if I get too close to you, one day that blood is going to be yours. I would rather die than live long enough to see myself hurt you. So, yea, I want you. God, I want you more than the oxygen in my lungs. That’s why you need to stay the fuck away from me.” Pope pointed a finger in your face. And you don’t know why, but you kissed the tip of it. Not in a sexual way, but in a gentle way. The care your lips brushed over his calloused, bloody skin shocked Pope so much that his resolve faltered. He lowered his hands to his sides, squaring off his shoulders and looking down at his feet. He breathed hard through his nose and pressed his eyes together.
“Pope,” You called softly, and you saw his lip quiver. He was bracing himself, waiting for you to scream horrendous insults his way. Instead, you reached out a hand and brushed it against his chest. He tensed, but didn’t move away. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.” Pope’s eyes snapped open.
“What?”
“The fact that you care that much about me. That you would deny yourself happiness, just to keep me safe.” You explained. “Anyone can beat someone up for me. But you’d dedicate your life to me. Only you could reach that level of devotion. And that’s why you’re the only one worthy of my love.” Pope swallowed uneasily. What were you getting at? “Would you?”
“Would I what?”
“Would you dedicate your life to protecting me?” You saw a flash of pure loyalty cross his face.
“I would rip out a man’s throat with my bare teeth if he touched you.” Pope growled, stepping towards you, walking you towards the wall. His pupils were blown and the muscle under his eye was twitching. “I’d sit at the foot of your bed all night to make sure you sleep soundly.” Another step. “I’d follow you around all day waiting for you to ask me for something.” Another. Your back was fully against the wall, chest touching his. Pope’s lips ghosted over your nose, still making searing eye contact. He lowered his voice. “I’d fuck you so hard you’d never want to leave my bed.” He was trying to be scary. Intimidate you into leaving his life before he allowed himself to get too entangled with you. Before he allowed himself to let down his guard and show you that he wasn’t a bad dog. Not really. He’d just been beaten so many times that baring his teeth was his first instinct. But the dissuasion wasn't working. You swallowed thickly and held his gaze. Your eyes reflected the fire he was feeling. You cupped your hands around his cheeks and Pope’s eyes fluttered shut.
“Prove it.” You challenged, huffing the words over his lips. Pope’s hands gripped your hip and spun you around before you could truly comprehend what was happening. He pressed your front to the wall and dipped his head to be level with your ear.
“Yea?” Pope huffed. “You getting turned on by how fucked up I am? I kill people.” You let out a moan at his words and Pope laughed cruelly.
“You’d kill someone for me?” You asked and Pope’s grip tightened.
“Anyone.” He growled. “All you have to do is ask.”
“Good, ‘cause I got a list.” A hand smacked your ass.
“I’m not kidding.” Pope kneaded the flesh between his fingers. He got to his knees and pulled down your pants. “You want me to prove it, huh? You want me to show you why you need to be careful about what you say? One taste of you, I’ll be addicted. I won’t be able to stop myself.” You looked at him over your shoulder and widened your legs.
“Please, Pope.” Who was he to deny you? You were his everything. Even if in the morning you might be horrified by your own actions, sobbing to him saying how much of a mistake it was. Maybe he would allow himself this one moment. Because by the way you were rutting onto his face, Pope considered for a moment that maybe you did mean it.
The moment his mouth was on your heat, he was a goner. The first swipe of his tongue through your folds was sinful and it drew a deep, breathy moan from the bottom of your chest. He lapped at you like a starved man, coating the entirety of his lower jaw and the inside of your thighs with his spit and your arousal. His tongue slipped in and out of your cunt repeatedly, stretching your walls when he added a finger.
“Touch yourself,” Pope told you, voice deep and commanding. You slipped a finger down your navel and rubbed tight circles around your clit. It wasn’t long before you felt your release creep into your belly. It took you off guard, how fast he got you there, and when he added another finger into your pussy, you exploded, clenching around his fingers and squirting onto his chest. You came with a cry of his name. Not ‘Pope’ but ‘Andrew.’ You had never called him that before. The sound of his real name from your throat sent painful claws of yearning into his heart. How could he let you go? How could he push you away? When it was so clear how much you loved him. How much you needed him. A new sense of purpose swelled in his chest. He got up off his knees and pulled off his shirt, wiping his face with it before discarding it on the ground. You swayed against the wall of the bedroom. Your brain was foggy from the intensity of your orgasm and you didn’t notice Pope had picked you up until you landed on his bed.
Pope crawled over you, fondling your breast as he kissed at your neck.
“M’so sorry,” He choked out, taking a shaky inhale. “I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.” You swallowed dryly, fingers curling in his red hair and tugging him up to look at you. Those brown eyes, wet and round, made your chest flutter with fondness.
“I could never leave you, Andrew.” You told him, kissing him softly. And you meant it. Seeing a man brutally beat up a stranger would scare anyone away- except you. Your personal guardian. It made your pussy throb. “I love you. You’re mine.” Your claiming made him whimper, a high-pitched keening. He bucked his hips against your center. “Fuck me. Show me what a good boy you are.” Pope quickly shimmied out of his jeans and boxers. You laid on your back patiently, grabbing at his shoulders to steady yourself as he aligned himself with your folds. The head of his cock brushed against you, and he let out a pained noise when he felt your wetness against him. He was shaking. “Hey,” you pulled him back into the moment and brushed a curl from his sweat-slicked forehead. “It’s okay.” Pope’s eyes were wide with uncertainty, but he gave a small nod and he pushed into you.
You let out a sharp gasp at the intrusion and Pope immediately stilled. You dug your fingers into his biceps as you took a few deep breaths. He was big. Not specifically long or girthy, but big in general. You gave him a nod and he bottomed out. Breath was punched from your lungs and it took a few moments before you could inhale. Your eyes went wide, locked on his, and you saw his gaze turn from uncertainty to something darker. A shift from Andrew back to Pope. He gave a roll of your hips and you moaned at the sensation. You were so full. “F-fuck.”
“I know,” He cooed, kissing along your jaw and cheeks. “You’re doing so good. I’m gonna take such good care of you.” The rhythm of skin slapping filled the bedroom, mixed with your breathy moans and Pope’s growls after every thrust. He pressed your knees to your chest, causing your eyes to roll back at the new sensation. One of your hands dug into the meat of his shoulder and the other wrapped loosely around his neck, pulling him up to kiss you. A small show of dominance over him that he readily indulged in. You gave a light squeeze and he responded with a sharp snap of his hips. He stayed like that, kissing you sloppily with your hand around his throat, until his pace began to falter. Pope humped his hips into you desperately, eagerly finding his release. He slowed only for a moment to whisper against your lips. “Where?”
“Need you to cum in me, Pope.” You begged, words uneven because of the feeling of his cock inside you. “Please.” You thought he was wounded with the sound he made. Low and broken and needy. His fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, holding you impossibly close against him. His head dipped to the crook of your neck. You settled one hand on the back of his head and the other you dragged in a slow line down the freckled plane of his back. He panted against your ear and you felt his teeth nip at your skin. You pressed a kiss to his sweaty temple and that sent him over the edge. He came with an open-mouthed whimper, hips stilling impossibly deep inside of you, coating your cervix with his cum. Pope rested his weight on you and you pressed your heels into his ass to keep him still. You petted his hair soothingly and whispered praises to him. His heart was directly above yours and when you both caught your breath, they were beating in sync.
“I love you.” he whispered to you. “I wanna be your guard dog forever. Wanna be your good boy.”
Pope isn't a bad dog. He doesn't know why he bites, but he knows he does. And he’d rip anyone to shreds if you just gave the command.
thinking ab cameron being so grateful that you don't mind fucking in his van that he decides to take you on every surface of it.
he fucks you in the bed, sure. loves how the small space forces you two to be close. you sitting on his face, or slipping into you from behind while you cuddle.
but everywhere else, too. he'll have you ride him in the passenger seat in some parking lot late at night. he'll hoist you up on the countertop so he can eat you out. or when you're out in the middle of nowhere, he'll have you suck him off while he leans against the camper door. he just wants you everywhere.
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