cw: f! reader, alludes to smut, kinda bossy rabbot (they just want to take care of you!!!), sugar baby reader? kinda?, reader doesn’t know what a day off is to save herself, these two are gonna get more gray trying to take care of you i swear
a/n: baby’s first smau !!! just a little idea i had in mind and wanted to see how it would flow as a text chain !! i hope y’all enjoy it xoxo
hey mootie!! your post about pope's THICK FINGERS NGHHH i cannot handle the thoughts i'm having about them.. but just imagine keeping you and pope's relationship a secret, him rubbing you through your shorts in the kitchen while everyones outside at smurf's or pope sneaking you into his room at night to treat you with those yummy fingers!!!!!!! ughh pls tell me you see the vision!!🥰
i see the vision moot!! hi gorgeous thank you for your patience i am here :P
i feel like at the start of this little scenario is when you're one of j's college friends who's soo much younger than pope but still follows him around like a little puppy. pope doesn't understand why you get so close to him when you talk or when you go to the cody parties, you're all over him instead of the guys your age that are throwing themselves at you.
so you just flat out tell him alone in the kitchen one night, that it's because you think he'd treat you better than the shitty college guys who have never even made you finish. you're fidgeting nervously as you pout, " 'nd i was just thinkin' that maybe it's not cause they're selfish, but that their hands are jus so much smaller than— than yours... " and pope's all shocked at the fact that you've thought about his hands like that. so you try and run when you think his silence is him rejecting you, but he’d grab you and pin you between the counter and his bulky frame.
pope would run the tips of his thick fingers along the waistband of your tiny shorts and breathe real heavy as he asked, "not one of 'em made you come?" you'd just shake your head, feeling a bit dizzy that he was so close to you and looking at you so hungrily. pope glanced behind you to see if anyone was around, and thankfully when he didn't find any eyes on him but yours, he'd slip his hand beneath your shorts and the little lace panties you were wearing.
and he wouldn't even asked you what you liked. pope'd just start to touch you how he wanted to. parting your softness and rubbing somewhere slick that he wanted to feel, or circling a sensitive area either rough or gentle whenever he felt like it. but you're pliant for him anyway. head fallen his against chest as you gasp, hands clutching helplessly at his broad shoulders as you feel two of his chubby fingers slide inside of you to stretch you out. they're so much bigger than any you've ever felt, just like you thought they'd be.
pope would talk to you how he wanted to the whole time, grunting out "bet none of 'em got you this wet either, did they?" and you'd shake your head frantically. and when he huffed "you like that? you like how this older guys fingers fuck you?" you’d moan "yes! feels so good- ah mmm- feel s-so full!"
pope wasn't gonna kiss you either. this was just about making you come so you'd stop following him around. but when you clenched around him so tightly and whimpered " 'm so close pope- oh god! w-will you kiss me, please?" he'd sigh and lean down to press his lips to yours not actually bothered about it at all. he’d steady you as you started to hump his hand while you moved your mouth desperately against his. in the end, he was glad he let you kiss him cause he got to swallow up all your little hiccups and whimpers as you came all over his big fingers, soaking him down to his wrist <3
“proship fanfiction normalizes incest” okay well that’s literally the same repackaged statement as “violent video games cause school shootings”, which is demonstrably untrue. and also if game of thrones (Extremely popular show) didn’t normalize incest, neither will a wincest fic with 350 hits. peace and love
Realized I hardly ever post fluff so have some Rabbot fluff hcs
• They always spend NYE together. If Jack has to work, Robby hangs out until he gets his midnight kiss then he sleeps in the break room until his shift starts
• Jack’s mom bothered them for years about not getting a holiday card because all his siblings send one, so now he and Robby make one every year. Matching sweaters and everything.
• Jack calls Robby “sweetheart”
• Twice Robby has had to go to conferences without Jack and both times he sent his dozens of selfies exploring whatever city
• Jack sends pictures of him in the ED back
• Jack doesn’t read much, but he loves for Robby to read aloud to him (he always falls asleep within five minutes)
• Robby sheepishly admitted to not sleeping as well when Jack has to work because they can’t cuddle. Jack busy him a pregnancy pillow to help
• He loves to come home to see Robby wrapped around it, but he’s learned the hard way it isn’t possible to take it from him without disturbing his sleep. Jack ends up spooning Robby on the “wrong side” of the bed instead
• Every time Jack says he’s going to shower, Robby ruffles his hair just to see the curls fluff up
• In the winter, Robby bundles up tight because he still prefers to walk to work and Jack loves how cute he looks with his rosy cheeks peeking out from under his scarf
• Anytime Jack gets to show off his strength (lift something moderate heavy, open a stick jar) he makes a big show of flexing after because it’s a guaranteed way to make Robby laugh
• They love singing loud as fuck to the radio. The cars next to them can hear them jamming out
• Jack is ticklish. If he has phantom pains in his leg, Robby mirror touches tickling the bottom of his feet to take his mind off it.
• Robby is the main chef of the household; Jack clings to his back, watching over his shoulder and muttering “smells good” every thirty seconds
• That said, Jack makes an excellent cheesecake. He learned the recipe for his wife, he used to make it for her birthday, and now he gets to share it with the other love of his life
• After they get married, Robby wears a three ring stack. Engagement, wedding, and eternity ring.
• Jack let Robby cut his hair once during quarantine, and just… thank god he wasn’t going out into the world like that (he had to get the ole Pope Cody s1 look after to fix it)
• They have one shared wardrobe for anything other than formal attire. The fit changes a little from their body types, but they both wear a large so why not
• Jack likes to sit in Robby’s lap, chest to chest. They feel more rested after that type of cuddle session than sleep sometimes
• Their favorite date night is at home playing board games and chatting
• Jack likes to kiss Robby five times for luck. Left cheek, forehead, right cheek, nose, and lips.
pussy inspection with pope but it’s because he’s never been able to just… look at one before he has sex.
cw: nsfw, deeply descriptive, pussy whipped!andrew, andrew loves feet, mention of sex work, oral (f recieving), not proofread, em dashes (it’s not AI, i promise i just love them) <3
andrew’s first (and majority) experiences with sex come from time with prostitutes— women paid to get straight to the point of pleasure and leave.
but you, he wants to take his time with you.
your legs are wrapped around his waist, his arms cuddling you to him as he walks to his room. laying you on his cozy full sized bed; he’s been meaning to go up a size, but if he’s honest, he likes that you have to basically sleep on top of him when you sleep over. he places a palm on your belly, fingers sprawling against your torso as he catches his breath.
moving to sit up, you reach for him petulantly. but andrew shakes his head “n-no. no. wanna look at you. please-wanna… gotta see you first.” falling to his knees and kissing yours. he nuzzles into your thigh, calloused thumb rubbing against the soft, sensitive, untouched skin behind your calf and under your knee.
andrew inhales, having to stop his tongue from lulling out and drooling on you. kissing the center of your cotton panties, he licks over the fabric until his tongue burns with irritation. doesn’t bother him, never could.
after peeling your panties off you, taking his hands from off of the bedroom floor to aid you, he returns back to his knees. a sudden clap of skin reverberates, andrew yanking you closer to him— eye level to your weeping cunt.
his tender green eyes flicker across her, puffy and cute in the warm light of his house. andrew’s trying to steady his breathing, but he’s a bull in a china shop; traipsing through getting you naked while desperately fighting every instinct to tear you apart with his teeth.
you whine as his thumbs move to your lips, spreading you open for him & the cold, air conditioned air. andrew’s eyes shimmer, with tears or want, who knows? either way, he pouting, the tiniest pool of saliva forming on his inner lip. he squishes your lips together, an experimental pinch to put pressure on your clit.
“oh my- oh, andrew-” “she’s so pretty.. like her so much”
he’s entranced as he responds, sitting up on his knees in focus. he swirls his tongue in his mouth, breath still coming in hard as he watches you writhe. moving his right hand back to the floor, he pushes down on his cock, trying to mirror the earlier sensation he gave you. his left thumb moves to the hood of your cunt & his mouth fills with water again at the sight of your clit trembling.
“oh, hi, baby.” he whispers, more to her than you. pressing his palm down harder on his thick cock, andrew’s breathing turns shaky as he eyes you.
your hips buck up impatiently, the room feeling entirely too hot and personal. a sudden weight across your lower tummy stops you, “p-please. just a few more minutes, bun, okay?”
nodding, you lay back down, hands covering your eyes so you don’t cry– you’ve never wanted him this badly. he returns to your cunt, pressing his thumb up and down over the hood, moving the skin to hear you whine and watch your toes clench.
he sits back on his haunches, hands pressing your thighs to spread wider. you think that if he had stirrups he’d make you use them. but his hands are on his lap, just looking, eyes flickering back and forth, back and forth. he kisses your thighs, nuzzling his nose against them before speaking, almost to himself, “just love her so much. wanna stay here all the time.”
again his thumb pulls back the skin of your cunt, clit swollen and throbbing under his stare. from above, andrew rolls his tongue before dishing out a long glob of spit. he lets it glide down your clit, and you kick your legs in anticipation, subtly crying “andyyyy”
for a moment his eyes meet yours, a brief, romantic moment. he palms at himself, slack jawed as he watches your chest heave. but the moment ends very quickly once he catches sight of his bubbly saliva melting onto your pussy.
diving forward, he whines into you. andrew’s hands return to the floor, fists pushing down onto the hardwood to ground himself as his eyes flutter shut. swirling the glob of spit in his mouth, andrew circles your bud with his tongue— slurping it back up, just to pull back and spit on your cunt again. his pointer and middle finger framing & pulling you open as he wiggles his head side to side, drowning in you.
andrew breathes deeper, whining himself as his nose nuzzles deeper into your mound of hair. his face is pressed so tightly to you, there’s nowhere for you to move, really. in between long, thick stripes, he’s pulling back, again speaking to himself before diving right back in.
“oh my god. oh my- god, oh god.”
his right hand holds your ankle, teeth nipping at your lips before his tongue sloppily licks you from hole to clit.
wedging his face further into you, if even possible, you feel his tongue prod past your entrance– desperate, reaching motions.
it’s messy, a mix of andrew’s spit and your essence. his fingers move down to run over your manicured toes as he tilts his head to rest on your thigh, tongue never disconnecting once as he breaths through his nose.
the feeling of your foot clenching at his devotion sends him over the edge. cumming untouched, andrew surges forward, a loud “fuck!” crawling out of his chest.
but he doesn’t stop, just keeps devouring you. slurping and gulping and taking breaths as he rubs his tongue raw amidst the squelching. moaning into you like he’s overstimulated.
“i-i love you. love your pretty pussy, oh- oh my god you’re so good, she’s so good.”
leaning back on his haunches, he thumbs at your clit as you thrash. his arm is planted across the pudgy flesh of your lil tummy as he speaks. figure 8s, red cheeks and a wet chin, he licks his lips.
Pairing: Andrew Pope Cody x mom!reader x daughter
Warnings: angst, self-doubt, worthlessness, trauma, emotional vulnerability, crying, comfort, fluff.
Summary: Andrew is met with a surprise Father's Day gift from his daughter that shatters his guarded walls.
Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and written solely for entertainment purposes.
Your four years old daughter, Lily, is supposed to be asleep. But she’s sitting next to you, gripping the edge of a paper bag, her eyes completely awake despite the late hour.
"He's gonna be home soon, right Mommy?" she whispers for the fourth time in the last hour.
"Soon, sweetpea," you murmur, pulling her body against your side and kissing the top of her head. "It's late. Daddy's going to catch you awake, and you know what he says about bedtime."
"But I have to give it to him. It's Father's Day." She clutches the bag tighter.
The sound of the front door unlocking echoes through the house. Lily stiffens, her face lighting up with joy.
Andrew steps into the room. He looks exhausted, there’s a tension in his broad shoulders and a familiar tightness around his jaw. His mind is clearly still half stuck in the dark reality of the jobs.
He looks up and sees the two of you.
The change in him is instantaneous. The tension drops from his shoulders, replaced by a soft warmth.
"What are my girls doing up?" Andrew’s voice is gentle.
"Daddy!"
Lily practically launches herself off the couch. Andrew blinks, he instantly drops to his knees on the carpet, opening his arms wide to catch her. He tucks her against his chest, burying his face in her hair, breathing her in.
"You're up late, bug," he murmurs, his hand rubbing her back with care.
"I waited for you! Look!" She pulls back to shove the paper bag against his chest. "We made 'em. Fo Father's Day. It's you!"
Andrew looks down at the bag, his brows furrowing slightly. He handles the paper as if it’s made of spun glass, carefully peeling back the tape Lily had enthusiastically applied.
You walk over, sitting on your heels beside him. He glances at you, a question in his eyes, and you just smile softly, nodding for him to open it.
He reaches in and pulls out a handmade photo frame. It's made of uneven popsicle sticks painted bright blue. On the front is a picture of Lily and Andrew, a picture you took one day in the park without him noticing, both of them smiling broadly on the swings. What takes his breath away is the text across the top and bottom of the frame, painstakingly typed by Lily's teacher from her dictated words.
My Dad is as strong as a superhero.
He gives the best hugs and makes me feel safe.
I love my Daddy.
Andrew stares at the frame.
He doesn't move.
He doesn't say a word.
The room goes completely still.
You watch as his chest heaves with a shaky breath.
Andrew has spent his entire life being told, and believing, that he is broken, that he is dangerous. He handles the darkest parts of the family because he thinks it's all he's good for.
But right here, he is a superhero. He is safety. His lips tremble slightly as he tries to keep his composure.
"Do you like it, Daddy?" Lily asks, her voice being suddenly small.
Andrew swallows hard, his throat tight with emotions. He wraps his arm around Lily, pulling her back into his embrace, his eyes closing tight as he presses a lingering kiss to her temple.
"I love it, babygirl," he chokes out. "It's... it's the best thing I've ever gotten. Thank you, bug."
Lily beams, completely satisfied, wrapping her small arms around his neck. "I told the teacher you have the biggest muscles and you protect us from everything. You're our superhero."
Andrew lets out a wet laugh, his eyes opening to look up at you. You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Happy Father's Day, love," you whisper softly. "She's right. You protect us. Always."
He reaches out, his large hand cupping the back of your neck, pulling you into the embrace so the three of you are tangled together.
"Come on, bug," Andrew murmurs against her hair. "Time for bed."
"Carry me?" she mumbles, her small hand still loosely gripping him.
"Always," he whispers.
Andrew picks her up as he stands up. In his arms, she looks incredibly small. You quickly take the gift, giving him an encouraging smile.
"We'll put it in our bedroom" you whisper.
The walk to her bedroom is quiet, Andrew steps inside, he approaches her bed and carefully lowers her onto the mattress.
Lily lets out a soft sigh as her head hits the pillow, her eyes half open. "Stay, daddy?"
"I'm right here," Andrew promises. He sinks down onto the edge of her bed, the small bed creaking slightly under his weight.
You stand by the door, watching as he pulls the pink comforter up to her chin, smoothing out the wrinkles with his hands. His fingers gently brush her hair away from her face.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Sleep, bug. I love you."
"Love you, Daddy. 'appy Father's Day..." she murmurs, her voice trailing off as sleep finally wins the battle.
Andrew stays frozen in that position for a long moment, just listening to her breathing. The tension that usually grips his frame seems entirely absent here. In the quiet of her bedroom, he’s just dad.
Andrew is stands up, his eyes lingering on his daughter for one last second before he follows you out into the hallway.
As you pull the door closed, leaving it cracked just an inch, Andrew turns to you. You can see the exhaustion returning to his face, but his eyes are filled with peace.
He doesn't say anything at first. He just steps in close, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck. He holds you tightly, drawing strength from your warmth.
"Thank you," he whispers against your skin.
"For what, Andy?" you ask softly, bringing your hand up to rub the back of his neck, feeling the tight muscles there.
"For this," he murmurs, his grip tightening. "For giving me her. For making me feel like... like I'm doing something right."
"You are doing something right," you tell him fiercely, pulling back enough to look him in the eyes. "You're a wonderful father."
Minutes later, the bedroom feels... weird.
You’re propped up against the pillows, the sheets pulled to your waist, watching Andrew.
He isn't lying down.
He’s sitting on the very edge of the bed.
His elbows resting heavily on his knees.
He is holding the gift.
He hasn't moved a muscle in ten minutes.
He's just staring at it.
The air in the room feels heavy, distant.
"Andrew? Come to sleep. You're exhausted."
He doesn't look back at you.
His shoulders are tense, locking up like a vice.
"I shouldn't have come home tonight," he whispers.
The bluntness of his words sends a sudden spike of tension through your chest. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Look at this," he mutters, his grip tightening on the frame. "Look at what she wrote. Superhero. Safety." He lets out a harsh sound that lacks any real warmth. "She’s four. She doesn't know anything."
"Andrew," you say with a warning tone creeping in as you sit up straighter. "Don't do this. Not tonight."
"Don't do what? Face reality?" He finally turns his head, there’s a new energy radiating off him now, the kind of hyper vigilant defense mechanism he usually reserves for his brothers or Smurf. "I just spent the last six hours scrubbing someone else's blood off the upholstery of a stolen truck. I have dirt under my fingernails that won't come out, and I walk into my house and my daughter handles me like I'm made of gold. It’s a lie."
The tension in the room snaps tight, stretching between the two of you. You feel the sting of frustration, mixed with the deep ache of watching him torturing himself.
"It’s not a lie," you say, sliding across the bed until you're right behind him. You don't touch him yet; the wall he’s built up is practically palpable. "She loves her father. Why does that feel like an insult to you?"
"Because I know what I am!" Andrew snaps, his voice rising just enough to make you freeze, before he instantly catches himself, throwing a guilty glance toward the closed bedroom door. He drops his voice back to a harsh whisper. "I spent decades doing things that would make God turn his back on this house, on me. I am a monster, and I’ve been one for a very long time. And then I come here, and she hands me this... this perfect thing. I feel like a fraud. I'm waiting for the day she realizes what her dad really is and looks at me with horror instead of a smile."
He’s shaking now, his body vibrating with panic. You recognize the tone of his voice, you recognize the moment when Smurf's voice, even though she is not alive, storms his thoughts.
You wait a few minutes before you close the distance, pressing your chest against his rigid back, and wrap your arms tightly around his neck.
Andrew flinches slightly at the sudden contact, his muscles locking, but you don't let go. You hold on tighter, anchoring him.
"She's not here anymore," you whisper against his ear, your voice breaking through the heavy atmosphere with sweetness. "You're with me, you're home, my Andy."
He lets out a choked breath, but his hands remain clenched around his little girl's gift.
You slide around to his side, sitting next to him. Gently, you place your hands over his, prying his rigid fingers away from the sticks. You take the gift and set it safely on the nightstand, then immediately take his rembling hands in yours.
"Look at me," you plead softly.
Slowly, his head turns. His eyes are swimming with unshed tears. The terrifying Pope who handles the family's darkest sins is completely gone. In his place is just Andrew, bleeding out from old wounds.
"You have dirt under your fingernails tonight because of the family you were born into," you say. "But you came back to this house because of the family you chose. Lily doesn't love you because she’s naive, Andrew. She loves you because when you look at her, you are the gentlest soul on this earth. You are the man who holds her when she has a nightmare. You are the man who protects her from everything bad in this world."
A tear spills over his lashes, tracking down his cheek.
"Smurf wanted you to believe you were only good for destruction," you whisper, reaching up to cup his jaw, your thumb wiping the tear away. "But you built this. You built her. You are enough, Andrew. You are so much more than enough."
The last string of tension holding him together snaps.
Andrew lets out a broken sob and pitches forward, he drops his head onto your shoulder, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his massive arms wrap around your waist. He doesn't hold you with his usual guarded restraint; instead, he collapses into you, letting his heavy frame go entirely slack as he clings to you like a lifeline in a storm.
You welcome his weight, shifting back against the pillows and pulling him down with you.
He follows without resistance, melting into you, completely submitting to the safety of your touch.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers in his hair. "We've got you, Andrew. You're safe here."
He lets out a long breath against your skin, his grip tightening around your waist, a wordless plea for you to keep holding him. Slowly, the ragged edge of his breathing begins to smooth out. The defensive lines of his body finally relax, turning completely soft and pliant in your arms.
You lean back to look at him, and he tilts his head up, his eyes are vulnerable and completely open to you.
"I love you," you whisper. "We love you. So much."
He swallows hard, his gaze searching yours as if he still can't believe he's allowed to have this.
"I love you," he rasps. "I love you both so much. I don't... I don't know what I'd do without you."
"You don't ever have to find out," you promise softly.
You reach up, cupping his face in both of your hands, and lean in to press a kiss to his forehead, then to each of his eyelids. Andrew closes his eyes, a sigh escaping him as he basks in the affection, completely trusting your hands to hold him.
You slide your lips down to his cheek, then to his jaw, before finally capturing his mouth in a slow kiss. It’s sweet and unhurried, laced with all the comfort and reassurance he needs. Andrew responds instantly, his lips parting as he kisses you back with profound devotion.
When you pull back, a soft smile touches his lips. He buries his face back in your neck, his arms tangling with yours as he pulls the blanket up over both of your shoulders.
The quiet comfort of the room settles over you both, thick and healing. Wrapped in your warmth, Andrew finally lets his eyes close, shielded entirely from his dark thoughts.
Thinking about being pressed up against Pope Cody and he’s so hard and warm and huge and ughhhh
He’s got you prone bone, hard tummy and pecs pressed flat against your back, a layer of slick sweat between your bodies. His forearms are locked on the mattress, caging your head between them. All you have to do is tilt your face slightly to suck on the hot, sticky sweet skin of his freckled arm.
His lips ghost the shell of your ear, letting out needy, breathy moans. His tongue darts out to tease your earlobe before he nibbles on it, continuing to pound his cock into you.
“Oh fuck, Pope. I need more, I need—” you let out a strangled moan, struggling to vocalize what your body wants from his.
“Words, baby. You gotta tell me,” he growls, thrusts never faltering.
“Closer, I need you closer,” you cry.
“I’m right here, I’m right on you baby,” he coos, trying to push his weight further into your backside.
“I need more,” you moan, bringing your hands up to grip onto his arms, desperate.
“Shit, okay. Lift your head up.”
You comply, pushing yourself up off the mattress just enough for Pope to snake his arm around your neck, holding your head up with his bicep. He flexes his muscles, causing your vision to blur slightly from the pressure at your throat.
The sensation of him choking you with his arm combined with the weight of him flush against your back as he ruts himself in and out of you has your walls clenching around his thick cock, pleasure flooding between your legs.
Pope’s orgasm follows close behind yours, warm ropes of cum filling you up as you’re still coming down from your high.
He sucks hot, wet kisses against the back of your neck, his breath fanning across the sensitive skin there.
You relish in the feeling of his body weight still pressed into you as he releases his hold around your neck. All fucked out, he’s practically crushing you with his muscular frame, your own makeshift weighed blanket … <3
Pre med era Rabbot are randomly assigned as roommates.
Jack is convinced on sight that Robby is gay. He just looks gay. Straight guys aren't that pretty.
And Jack is an ally, so he makes it super clear from the jump that he's pro-gay and everything homosexual is a-okay with him. Robby responds positively, but a bit awkwardly. Jack is sure he's just not used to so much outward support.
He talks about Robby with his friends and worries that maybe he wasn't clear enough on his allyship because Robby never brings guys home. One of his friends suggests that maybe Robby has a crush on him and that's why he never hooks up with anyone. He's too busy being sad about having a crush on a straight guy.
After that, Jack starts to notice everything Robby does to support the crush theory.
If their feet knock together while they're watching TV on the couch, Robby doesn't try to move them. He always brings extra food for Jack. He even paid when they went to see the new James Bond movie.
Jack feels like shit. He didn't mean to lead him on. Robby is so smart, and funny, and charismatic. He's a ton of fun to be around and the most considerate roommate Jack has ever had. He'll make some guy very happy someday.
He brainstorms ideas on how to subtly turn Robby down, but the more distance Jack puts between them, the more effort Robby puts into them spending time together.
Jack is at a party, without Robby, drunkenly mulling over his options, when he overhears some girl talking about experimenting with her roommate. She says something about trying it and deciding she wasn't into it, but was glad she got it out of her system.
Huh. Maybe Jack can do that for Robby.
He's not sure how well it'll work, considering Robby is actually gay, but maybe if they kiss, Robby will feel Jack's straightness and lose interest.
It's harder to kiss a guy than Jack thought it would be. Or... it's harder to find the opportunity. Every time Jack thinks he gets close he chickens out and spends hours kicking himself after.
They're sitting on the couch, feet not touching, but Jack relaxes an arm over the back. His fingers barely brush the sleeve of Robby's shirt. They both keep catching each other sneaking glances. Their eyes meet during a commercial, and Jack feels like he's going to burst. Then Robby says:
"Fuck it."
His mouth crashes against Jack's. It's nice. Really nice. Warm and wet. Not unlike kissing a girl, but maybe a bit more... insistent.
The kiss rolls into making out with Robby in his lap, then rutting against each other on the couch, then exchanging sloppy handjobs and an attempt at a blowjob in Jack's bed.
Jack wakes up the next morning, tangled up with Robby, more content than he has ever been before.
"That was fun," Jack whispers when Robby wakes.
"Yeah," Robby stretches. He's got an easy smile on. "I didn't think I'd like that as much as I did, but... you might've convinced me."
Jack shoves him lightly. "What does that mean? Do I not look like a good lay?"
"No, no," Robby laughs. "I just meant, like, because I'm straight. Or was, at least."
manipulative pope cody + ‘wanna see your face on camera’ + sex tape drabble :3
this one’s for real ogs who said they wanted more @dirtygir1 @saqes0 @nowimconvinced @mast3rbait3r @obsessedhoneycomb
*nasty smut below the cut teehee* ! mdni !
pope is getting sick of using just your panties to satisfy himself when he’s away from you for a few days.
for months he’s tried to convince you to let him film the two of you. wether it’s you on your knees, him on his, or you spread wide beneath him. every. single. time. you say no. something about being nervous to show your face on camera or something? he doesn’t really care. he never actually listens when you deny him and give him your reasons. he just starts to come up with a way to get you to comply.
and he’s finally done it!
well, partially. him and his brothers leave tomorrow to go down to mexico for at least a week. he put on a fake pout that he knows melts you instantly and pretended to compromise about you being turned away in doggy while on camera. you only agreed because it’s a shitty cam corder that he found underneath his bed. not a phone or something that can send the tape around easily.
popes not worried though. not when he’s thrusting so deep into you already that you’re moaning his name and arching as far back as you can go. he’s taken you from the back for a while. made sure to work his chubby fingers on your clit so you’ve already come once. shifting the camera trained on your jiggling ass since the second you got on all fours, he decides to finally be done pretending that he’s gonna let you hide your face from him.
you whine when he suddenly pulls out. his rough words snap you out of your mewling protests. “cmon. flip over.” pope's free hand palms your hip to move you but you drop to your stomach and bury your face into the sheets. “i can’t! my face andy… i can’t.”
he huffs behind you, about to forcibly flip you over despite your objections. but even he knows that’s too far. that you’d never let him get you naked again. so, he tries a different method. one that you taught him you like. one that he learned just for you and to use when he wants you to do something. words.
pope lies down overtop of you, pressing his chest to your back. he starts to place strategic kisses in spots he knows makes you shiver. “you’re just so sexy.” he kisses your spine and you inhale sharply. “ ‘nd make all these pretty faces when ‘m inside you.” then your shoulder blades as you whimper. “wanna be able to watch it back. wanna see your face on camera when i make y’feel good.”
once he gets to your neck he licks allll the way up to your ear. he makes sure his breath fans your lobe until goosebumps appear on your skin beneath him. “i make you feel good, don’t i?”
“yes- s-so good.” from the way you instinctively arch at his words, pope can tell your resign is fading. when you bring a hand behind you to blindly claw for his waist, he tries not to gloat. “cmon then sweetheart. flip over for me, yeah?” you wiggle your ass against his cock and you both shakily breathe for a second. you glance back at him, gnawing at your bottom lip. “ ’s just for you, right? you... you won’t show anyone?”
pope tries not to roll his eyes. because obviously he would kill anyone else if they saw you like this. but he sticks with what he knows will work with you. he gently kisses your sweet lips. “course honey. youre mine. 's just for me. promise.” you blink at him through lovely lashes. once he grinds his fat tip against your weepy hole to make your eyelids flutter slightly, you cave. “yea- yes. okay. i-i want you to see it too andy. 'm yours.”
he bites back a giddy ‘fuck yes’ and guides you to roll over wordlessly. he kisses you deeply when he finally feels your tits against his chest. slowly shifting himself between your spread thighs. pope raises the camera up as high as he can so that when he thrusts easily back into your tight heat, he gets the way your eyes roll back and your jaw slackens in pleasure from the generous stretch of him on film.
and he gets it all on camera. from the way you moan his name, to the way your back arches involuntarily when he pushes as deep as he can and grinds his hips in a slowww circle. he wishes he could focus enough to zoom in on the way you suck him in, but he’s grunting and groaning "fuck you feel s'good" while trying not to come too early as he feels your warmth grip him so fucking tight.
when he pans the camera down to record where he’s plunging into you and the way you’re taking his thick cock so perfectly, you squeal and hide your face in embarrassment. “andy! don’t- ohhh god- that’s too much!” pope covers his scoff of annoyance with a groan and presses hot kisses to your neck. effectively shutting you up.
he yanks both your tiny hands from your face with his free one. focusing his body on balance as he presses all his weight into holding them above your head. while his mind focuses on the other hand that grips the camera to stay angled at your soaked pussy.
“shhh shhh- yer beautiful sweet girl. ‘s like you were made for me. takin’ this dick so well..” he feels you clench around him and prays that his shitty camera caught the reflex. “oh you like that? hearin’ how well you take me?” he groans and picks up his pace, your ankles cross almost as tightly as you’re squeezing his length at his back. you’re not even hearing his words anymore. your eyes are glazed over as you nod and pulse around him while pope talks you through it. “y'know i wanna watch it later. wanna see- fuck- how well this tight pussy takes me. always sweetheart. always.”
you’re thrashing your head back and forth, whimpering for him. “oh andy! feels sogood- don’t stop- ohgoddontstop!” he bites his lip as he brings the camera to your pretty face when your eyes squeeze shut. pope feels your thighs start to shake around him and your breathe start to hitch beneath him. “say my name when you come-hmmhf- want it. want it on camera.” his words along with his repetitive thrusts have you shuddering, coming undone with a yelp. creaming all over his pelvis and even down his thighs. he really really hopes the sound of you crying out his name is louder than the wet slapping noises echoing throughout the room while he fucks you through your orgasm.
a wave of primal satisfaction washes over pope at the fact that he got you finishing on his cock on camera. “beg for it.” he rasps, needing to hear you pleading for his come on camera. and oh god you do. you're so cock drunk at this point that your whines for him to finish inside you are slurred and almost incoherent. over and over and over. “please fill me up- please i want it so bad! wantit wantit wantit-”
your desperate cries in his ear and thinking about watching this exact moment in some crappy hotel in mexico instead of just using his imagination, is enough to have pope reach his own peak. he ruts his hips as far as he can and bites at your chest and neck as he spills deep inside you.
you both lie there breathlessly, boneless and satiated while you come down. he drops your hands and you hum as your run your fingers all over his back gently. after a minute or two he hears a faint beeping.
when he realizes it’s the camera battery about to die, pope pulls out of you and makes sure to zero in on his come seeping out of your pussy before he ends the video. then checks once, twice, three times that it saved <3
warnings: 18+, mdni!!!, impact play, use of daddy, lowkey brat tamer!robby
okay so i saw this p!link (open at your own risk) and it made me think of robby + this pic of noah 🤤
maybe you've been a brat all day, pushing his buttons until he finally snaps. he has you bent over as he takes his belt off. the clinking of the buckle sends shivers up your spine. you thought he'd just get a little pissed off, enough to spank you, not enough to use the belt. but he wants to teach you a lesson.
the first smack! echoes through the otherwise silent room. you body lurches forward, running away from the stinging pain.
"nuh uh," robby clicks his tongue, dragging you back into position. "you're not getting off that easy, princess. you're gonna take it like a good girl and you're gonna apologize for your attitude, alright?"
he brings the belt down harshly, again and again, admiring the way your skin turns redder and redder. a particularly hard smack, has you crying out. he knows you are in pain, but you are too stubborn to apologize. yet he's not going to let up until he hears those words.
"c'mon, all you gotta say is, 'i'm sorry,' and we can be done. it's as easy as that."
you sniffle, tears gathering on your lashes, threatening to drip down. one more hit with the belt and tears are flowing freely.
"i'm sorry!" you squeak out, whimpering as he runs the leather over your heated skin. he brings it down one more time, needing to hear you say it properly.
"are you going to be good?" he asks.
"yes! i'm sorry, daddy, i'll be good! i promise!"
"there she is," he coos. "knew my good girl was still in there."
robby drops the belt, stepping between your legs. his fingers find your core which is already dripping just from your punishment. he chuckles as he pushes two fingers inside.
"daddy-"
"shh, daddy's gonna take care of you now, princess."
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