alex

you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love

[iloverodentmen]

welcome to my page ༊࿐⠀

hii my name’s alex,i’m 19, she/her and probably have a fandom problem.

what i’m writing for: the pitt, challengers, animal kingdom

requests are open.

you can find my masterlist here ༊࿐⠀

minors are not welcome on my page!

[romantic-insomniac]

manipulative pope cody + ‘just the tip?’ + breeding kink drabble :3

this is for my moots who inspired me to blurb! i luv you~ @valleyanimalz @dirtygir1 @bbuuunnyyy @groovyangelkisses

*nasty smut below the cut teehee* ! mdni !

pope cody hates that you make him wear a condom, that you have been making him wrap it up for the entire two month relationship. he feels it’s an unnecessary barrier keeping him from feeling all of you and filling you up properly. but, he agreed the first time because he was so desperate to be inside you. always has been. always will be.

now, even after you’ve fucked more times than he can count while protected. he’s fed up. he knows that you’ll like it bare. that you’ll need it. that you’ll never make him wear a stupid condom again when you learn how good it feels when he sinks into you raw. you just need his help. need your strong, heroic boyfriend to take that step that you cant take yourself. god, he’s so good to you. that’s what he tells himself when he formulates his plan.

he made sure you came on his face at least three times. until your legs were jelly, brain mush, voice hoarse from begging him to stop. ‘i-i can’t’ you had whined, ‘ ‘s too much andy!’. he did it to get you into that floaty head space where you’re babbling mindlessly and lax for him.

and you’re exactly that as pope crawls up your body and settles where he belongs, above you and inbetween your legs. still, you breathlessly slur the question that he despises. “condom?”

he feigns frustration even though this is exactly what he planned. “shit— i left my wallet in craig’s car… i don’t have one.”

your response is a needy whine that morphs into a gasp when he rests his cock against your drenched folds and slowly slides back and forth. “can i just have you like this sweetheart?” pope rubs his thick length upwards, angry pink tip catching your clit with every pressing glide. you whimper through your desperate nods, nails clawing at his shoulders, fusing your knees to his ribs to stay spread for him. such a good girl, he thinks to himself.

he keeps his ruttings short. almost playfully light in order to not get you anywhere besides out of your mind from teasing. just how he wants it. when you start to wriggle beneath him, whimpering a few mindless “please please please”s, he looks down at your aching pussy to see her clench around nothing. poor baby, she needs me so bad, he tells himself.

his dick is so coated in your slick releases that pope ‘accidentally’ notches at your opening. staying in motion, he pushes in ever so slightly. your eyes shoot open in surprise “ohh- andy!” you squeal. frustration bubbles in his chest, but he doesn’t give up. because your panic simmers to pleasure and your mouth forms an ‘o’ as you moan at just his bare tip breaching your wet heat.

he buries his face into your neck to hide his satisfied grin, licking and suckling the skin how he knows you like. “jus the tip sweetheart? please?” he emphasizes his wimpy whines with an inching forward of his hips. your nails tear at the flesh on his back as you shudder. “p-promise?” you croak out in hazy compliance. his reply is strained. “ ‘course honey.”

popes promise — to him at least— goes up in flames when he slips a tiny bit further inside and is met with warm, silky tightness. fuckkk. he groans, muscles tensing and you cry out, eyes rolling back. his thrusts are shallow and unsatisfactory. after a only a few, he’s twitching in need, pathetically trying to inch deeper.

you notice, starting to whine and pant. “you cant andy! i’m not on the pill!” the words almost make pope start to piston in and out of you. the thought of coming in you until you’re swollen with his baby infiltrating his mind. that you’ll be tied to him forever and— oh yeah. that’s happening, he decides.

pope leans down to kiss you languidly. trying to tongue fuck you into submission. your pussy is rapidly fluttering around the first inch of his cock, telling him that you want this just as bad as he does. he uses his words. “you just feel so good sweetheart. need you so bad. need all of you.” a breathy moan slips from you at his praise as you return his kiss greedily.

you pull back and blink up at him with your glossy eyes and kiss bitten lips. when your legs start to wrap around him, crossing tightly at his back, he knows he’s almost home free. “okay... i- i need you too andy.”

you barely get the words out before he hastily pushes all the way inside of you. guttural noises of pleasure are ripped from you both as you clench around him so prettily and he stretches you out so perfectly. it’s searing, intimate and raw. so fucking raw.

as pope starts to thrust in and out of you eagerly, obscene slapping sounds echo throughout the room. he whimpers loudly at the warm, wet feeling of you and the noises your body makes for him.

when you shakily tell him between moans “you h-have to pull out.. okay?”

it takes all of his dwindling restraint to not laugh in your face.

[nightpitt]

I can’t choose between Jack and Andrew but imagine one of them is in your bedroom for some reason (maybe you asked them to get something for you) and they accidentally find your vibrator that you keep hidden in your bedside drawer/wardrobe

And then use it to overstimulate you

AHHH ANON, i think pope would be best for this cause he's so fuckin' nosey.

MDNI - 18+

CONTENTS: andrew "pope" cody x f! reader, smut, sex toy, fingering

pope was cleaning your apartment, as per usual. his gloved hands would pick up your laundry, stow away your journal and pens. he dusted your nightstand, and noticed your stray tablet. he pulled the drawer open, his eyes scanning the contents of your drawer.

a vibrator.

he'd take it out and hold it in his hands while he sat on the couch. inspecting and twirling it between his strong hands.

you came home and jolted at the sight of him on the couch.

"andrew-"

"what is this," he'd mutter.

"uh u-um," you'd stutter. "that's my vibrator."

"does it make you feel good?" he asked. "does it make you cum better than i can?"

"no," you sighed. "never."

"then why do you have it?" he asked, taking his gaze from the toy and casting it to you.

"for when you're gone," you'd reply.

"really that needy, huh?"

that night, he had you draped across his lap, your ass poking into the air. he held the vibrator to your clit while he pulsed his strong fingers into you.

"andrew-, please," you whined.

"fucking take it," he hissed. "you bought it, m'gonna fuckin' use it."

[iloverodentmen]

the challengers fandom misses you </3 we need more art!!

BABY I KNOOOOOW!!!! i’d love if you had some requests for artie ☹️ i’ve been going through a writers block lately so it has been hard but i’m willing to hear some ideas and work em out when i’m ready!

[grimgasm]

☁️ shawn hatosy characters' fave sex positions ☁️

✶ pairing | andrew pope cody x f!reader, titus danforth x f!reader, jack abbot x f!reader ✶ word count | 1.1k ✶ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, praise kink, begging, overstimulation, squirting, orgasm control, desperate, soft dom!jack abbot, rough, teasing, breeding kink, pet names, choking, prone bone, spooning, mating press, multiple orgasms, size kink ✶ notes | for anon 🩷 follow up of this fic.

masterlist | ao3 | inbox | requests, taglist, submissions: open

prone bone | titus danforth fucks you fast and rough. rippling strength and punishing thrusts as he forces you to take what he gives; a starving bloodhound unmuzzled and set free with greedy hands and a hungry mouth. bullies your pussy into submission as he claims the softness of your body, hammering into you until you're slick and stupid, soaking his cock in sticky gushes of cum over and over and over again as he drives himself to exhaustion. leaves you shaky and half aware as he keeps you pinned beneath his weight, chest plastered to your back as dense thighs wedge between your legs to keep you spread open and wide. and when you claw at silken pillows for purchase, he chuckles. locks a forearm around your throat like a collar, the thick muscles squeezing down on your voice box as he tugs you harder into the crushing weight of his chest. suffocating, surrounding as your thoughts scatter like confetti. head floating and fuzzy as your vision glazes over, pulse pounding in your ears as all your focus narrows in on the burning heat of him behind you. the sweat slick catch of his skin over yours, the heady scent of his cologne clogging your nose as he grunts rough and exhales harsh, riding you hard. helpless and at his mercy while liquid fire coils low in your belly, your poor clit aching for attention he won't give until you're overstimulated and sobbing. when you whine - a choked, reedy little noise - and drool, he rewards you with a filthy drag of his tongue over your fluttering pulse point. you voice cracks when you beg him to cum, pump you so full you'll be leaking for days, "please, please, please." he responds by slamming his fat cockhead into your cervix, little kisses of pain-pleasure dancing along your nerves as you moan low and pitiful. then his chin hooks over your shoulder, stubble rubbing your neck raw from friction, growling into your ear, "that's it, fuckin' take it like a good girl. i'm not done with you yet."

spooning | jack abbot fucks you slow and leisurely. nuzzles his face into the back of your neck, his breath puffing across your skin shivery and warm as he rocks his hips into yours. tender as he takes his time mapping out your body. one arm is supporting your head like a pillow, stretched out under you across the bed while the other drapes down along your flank. brackets you in his embrace while a calloused palm massages the outside of your thigh. grinds close to hear you moan softly, feel the way your pussy clamps down on his fat cock, squelching. stuffed full and spread wide as silken walls struggle to squeeze around the girth of his shaft. all while you beg him to press in deeper, thrust faster, use you harder. he just hums in response to your whining as he follows the path of your curves, touches unhurried and caressing. questing and questioning. noting what makes your pretty mouth drop open in a gasp. cataloging what patterns on your aching little clit make you jolt in his arms. learning what touches make your brain short circuit and your pussy drool, thighs sticky and trembling. he cups the underside of your breast, the pad of his thumb circling your areola in meandering, teasing patterns. plays and plucks the tender bud until you arch and whine his name, head lolling back over his shoulder. sheathed inside you, his cock pulses once, twice. a solid weight that drags along the sensitive front wall of your pussy, kisses your g-spot. you twitch, nerves on fire, your bones threatening to rattle out of your skin. “please, jack - ooh fuh… ck - ‘m so close. it feels so good, just wanna cum, please let me cum.” he shushes you, low and authoritative. drops a string of kisses up the slope of your neck until he reaches your ear lobe where he rolls the fat between his teeth. kicks his hips forward to sheath his cock inside of you to the hilt, groaning at the silken squish of your gummy walls as you tremble around him. pets a hand over the soft swell of your lower belly, right over where he’s seated inside you, and murmurs, “sh, there’s no need to rush. we’ve got plenty of time, sweetheart. let me make you feel good.” his jaw rubs against your cheek affectionately, his stubble coarse and electrifying on your skin. “besides, i wanna see how messy you can get.”

mating press | andrew pope cody fucks you close and intimate. deep and desperate as he folds you in half so far your tits nearly touch your knees, your ankles dangling around his shoulders as your feet bounce with the short, heavy momentum of his thrusts. keeps you pinned open and vulnerable with his biceps as a low throated curse of your name escapes his slack mouth, your sopping pussy spread wide around the fat girth of his cock. the blunt head scrapes over sensitive walls, grinding deep to massage your cervix. every time his pelvis slaps into your throbbing clit, you sob, toes flexing and tears gathering along your lash line as a tsunami of pleasure crashes over you in pulsing waves of heat that fizz and pop across your skin like champagne. “yeah,” he breathes, “that’s it, just like that.” sweat gathers, baby hairs sticking to your forehead as every in-stroke punches little moans out of you. “s’full,” you slur, eyes glazed and pupils blown, cock drunk and drooling. “a-andy, please…” you’re so full you can barely breathe, lower belly bulging with the push-pull of his cock. he refuses to pull out too far, keeps himself buried nice and snug inside you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. “just a lil more…” he tucks his face into the crook of your neck, smothering his pants and groans. damp curls tickle your ear as lips kiss up and down the slope of your shoulder, hot and messy. a flicker of tongue and a hint of teeth. you arch into the crush of his chest, nipples pebbled and dragging over his pecs. the forearms he wrapped around your back flex, the hands anchored on your ass tightening. the plush fat spills between his kneading fingers, and he uses his grip to guide you up to meet him thrust for thrust, grind for grind. keening, your hands squeeze his sides, nails digging into his ribs, the muscles rippling with the movement of his body. he pauses to feel the clutch of your walls, the wet squelch of your needy pussy as slick gushes out to soak his balls where they rest against your ass, “y’feel so - hhah - so good. i can’t… fuck, wanna cum inside. please let me.”

feedback is always appreciated

[j4ckr4bbits]

i miss pope too man. thinking ab him fucking u all rough, manhandling u and shoving you around like a fleshlight. and he's so fucking sweaty and its probably the third round but you just let him use u

josie i just KNEW u were gonna pull through with an absolutely feral pope thought. this is also for anon who wanted pope taking it out on you after a job gone bad <3

18+ MDNI | cw: rough sex, choking, overstimulation, one mention of breeding, one mention of blood, pope is a little mean

when pope and his brothers go out on a job, you always wait up for him to text you a simple "Everything went fine. Get the pie ready."

this time, the text never comes. you're sat up in bed, anxiously tapping your feet against the floorboards when you hear the door bust open: there's only one set of footsteps, angry and heavy.

the moment pope storms through your bedroom door, you know something's wrong: he's breathing hard and there's blood streaked all over his thick biceps. you don't even have time to decipher whether it's his or not before he starts frantically murmuring something about not jacking the safe in time, craig getting hit by a stray bullet and deran having to take him to tj...

he's blaming himself, you know it. so you do the first thing you can think of: shut him up with your mouth and hands. is it a little manipulative? sure, maybe, but it works— pope's all over you, groping at your tits, your waist, your ass, as he devours you like a wild animal, licking into your open mouth. you manage to murmur a little "take it out on me," against his tongue, and that's exactly what he does.

soon you're getting fucked stupid by pope, impossibly stretched out by his fat cock. you've never had him fuck you this hard before: not when he'd had that phase of trying to breed you full with his kid, not even when you'd worn his favourite pair of heels for the first time.

pope goes full animal, grunting and groaning as he splits your juicy cunt open on every surface in the room. he's got you bent over bookshelves, pressed up against the windows, on all fours on the floor...

he gets you into doggy down on the ground and wraps his big meaty hands round the sides of your throat, squeezing so deliciously and it makes you clench around his dick. your cunt's making these gross slick noises cause you've got a bunch of his loads in you already, and it's all leaking and stringing out around his cock, but it just makes him fuck you faster.

his hips keep driving into you, his heavy balls tapping at your clit. the air in your room is hot and thick with sweat. you're certain the overstimulation must hurt for him, going round after round, but he doesn't seem to mind. maybe he wants it to hurt

eventually your muscles give out and your arms collapse onto the floor, making you yelp. pope doesn't like this. "shut up," he growls, his sweaty palm coming up to cover your mouth as he drives his cock into you harder. "i don't wanna hear you right now, okay? just let me— just lemme use you."

[p1ttlings]

SWEET CREATURE!

019. pancakes

warnings . . . baz, curse words, boner alert. wc . . . 2.1k

Lena’s legs are kicking back and forth on the counter that she’s sitting on. The sleek marbled countertop is a mess, thanks to you. For as long as you’ve known Lena, she’s made it abundantly clear just how much she loves pancakes. All sorts of them, blueberry, chocolate chip, and brown sugar— all of the possible combinations. Sprinkles, maraschino cherries, and a crap ton of whipped cream. 

“No sprinkles today, Lena Beana.” You hum as you mix the batter in the bowl. You can’t get it right. It’s either too watery or too thick. You can’t put the correct amount of ingredients and Lena’s amused as she watches you. 

“Cherries?” She asks, holding onto her stuffed bunny. 

You think about it. It’s ten pm, she can’t have much sugar or she’ll be too rowdy. Even now, she tells you she can’t sleep, you can’t worsen it. “Only natural, not maraschino.” 

She pouts, bottom lip jutting out. “Those aren’t as yummy.” But she’s distracted when a glob of your batter spills out of your bowl. 

“Fuck.” You curse, hands sticky. 

“Curse word.” Her soft voice tries to scold you. 

“Sorry, mama.” You apologize as you grab far too many napkins to clean yourself up. 

The laugh that leaves the little girl has you turning to look up at her after minutes of concentration. “What are you laughing at?” You poke her belly, making her giggle some more. 

“You’re really, really bad at this.” She glances at the mess of ingredients you’ve created. There’s flour on counter, spilled milk and water, butter and oil smeared all around. 

You sigh, admitting defeat. “Yeah, I am.” You grab the cereal Nicky had picked up specifically for moments like these. “Froot Loops instead?”

She nods, her leg hair bouncing around her. “Yummy.” 

You grab a bowl from the cabinets, along with a spoon, clattering across from where she’s now sitting, having moved to a stool. 

“You should ask my uncle Pope for help.” She speaks with a mouthful of cereal. “He likes to clean.” 

The grin falls to your lips easily at the mention of Pope. “You, Lena Blackwell, are a genius.” You press a kiss to her temple, whipping your phone out. You send him a text that reads, ‘NEED HELP ASAP.’ 

He doesn’t rush downstairs, not like you thought he would. His eyes are immediately on Lena, even with his calmed demeanor, making sure she’s not injured. And then, to you. You’re grinning as you lean against the counter, “funny story, handsome,” you hum. “There was a robbery! Wasn’t there, Lena?” 

The little girl nods with a mouth full of cereal, scooping some more in her spoon. 

“That right?” He asks roughly, unamused. 

You nod, “yes. And you know what’s so horrible? They tried to take the expensive stuff but then they changed their path to the kitchen. And then, they tried to make pancakes.” 

“Tried?” He asks as he makes his way to the countertop, lifting a spoon that’s in a puddle of the white sludge. 

“No. They succeeded because they were really smart and knew how to cook.” You watch as he takes the mess in, carefully moving around the countertop, circling you and Lena. “And then, they took the cooked pancakes and told Lena she could only have Froot Loops. It was sick.” 

Lena nods, speaking with a mouthful of food. “It’s true, uncle pope!” 

Pope shakes his head, grabbing a towel from the sink, ready to get to cleaning. “Lena, don’t follow in her footsteps. Lying is bad.” 

You grin, turning to Lena who’s already watching you, waiting to hear what your argument is. You shake your head at her, silently telling her to forget his words. She’s content with that response, going back to her cereal. 

“It’s not lying. It’s story-telling.” You defend playfully, letting him clean the mess you’ve made. “I’m building up her imagination. She’s going to write best-selling novels.” 

He scoffs, “says the liar.” 

“Not a liar.” Both you and Lena speak at the same time. You two fall into fits of giggles. 

“You’re copying me.” You tease her. 

She grins, “no, you’re copying me.” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“Yuh-huh.” 

“Children.” Pope chastises, both of you turning to look at him as he’s moving the used plates and utensils into the sink. “Lena, go get ready for bed. You,” his glare isn’t tense as usual but it’s directed to you. “Wash the dishes.” 

You groan as Lena runs off with a giggle to her temporary bedroom. “Come on, it’s not my fault. It’s the robbers.” 

“Yes.” He repeats, “it was the robbers fault but they left and you’re here. Wash.” 

Despite the attitude that you have, you do decide to do it as he does the rest. You two clean in silence. It’s not horrifically awkward but silence means you overthink. And overthinking is bad. You have to keep going or it’ll be too much to handle. 

“Pope?” 

He doesn’t speak, a simple hum tells you to keep going. 

You don’t respond immediately, and you can feel the way he turns to face your back, “what?” His voice seems to be naturally harsh so you don’t flinch or stress over the tone. 

You put the plate down, turning to face him, wiping your wet hands with the dry rag beside the sink. 

You’re not nervous around men often. Most don’t hold a candle to you. To how great you know you can be. To how great you know you are. But Pope isn’t just any man. From the second you saw him three years ago at the grocery store, you know this was it. You knew even then, that Andrew Cody is the guy you’re going to end up with. And yet, you still don’t speak. 

The air is charged with tension. No, not tension. Softer. You can’t quite put your finger on it as you two stand there, barely a few scuffles apart, staring at each other. 

Your breath hitches, itching to say these words out loud. “I really like you.” You admit, a little too easily, because of how intensely you mean them. Wholeheartedly. Irrevocably. In any way to describe how truthful you're being. 

He doesn’t hesitate, “you’re lying.” 

Your eyebrows furrow, a scoff bubbling out of you. “Excuse me?” 

He shrugs, swinging a clean rag over his shoulder, arms crossed as he leans against the countertop. “That’s your hobby, right?” 

Now you’re offended, crossing your arms over your chest as well, “is that why you never take me seriously? You think that, because I like to lie, that my feelings for you are a lie, too?” 

“Would I be wrong to think so?” 

It’s your turn to not hesitate, “yes.” Breathily, “I wanted you the second you walked into the store.” 

“What?” His face scrunches in confusion, in that same cute way that makes you smile. 

“Nothing.” 

“No,” he takes a single step forward. “What store?” 

You wanted to hang this over him longer but you can’t. The excitement is burning through you. You need to tell him just how long he’s been invading your thoughts without even knowing his name. You need to tell him how much worse this need for him has intensified since getting to know him. 

“You really don’t remember me?” 

“Of course I remember you.” He sounds offended by whatever accusation you’re throwing at him. “I think about you all the time.” 

You take a step towards him as well. “You do?” 

He rolls his eyes, “don’t let it get to your head.” 

You laugh, “you’re letting it get to yours.” 

“What? It’s not.” 

“Not that one.”  You hum. 

He grabs the towel on his shoulder and covers his crotch as you cackle. “Shut up.” 

You shrug, still grinning. “Helen’s.” You speak the name of the grocery store. It’s a small, family owned grocery store, one where the owners are always over and chitchatting with the customers. A staple in the tight-knit community. 

“That your mother or something?” 

You shake your head, “the grocery store.”

“Okay… you want me to go to Helen’s? What do you need?” 

You groan, eyes shutting momentarily, trying to keep your emotions intact. You open them to his body much closer to yours, closing the distance. His hand is ghosting over your cheek, scared to touch you. “Do it…” your voice is small and desperate. 

It happens so fast. His hands fall to your cheeks, forcing your face up as he pushes you to lean against the sink, knee slotting between your thighs. His nose is nudging against yours, breath heavy against your lips. 

You’ve had his thumb in your mouth and his fingers in you. And not a single kiss. A forehead kiss but you’re not counting that. You need to kiss him. Have to. You’re desperate for it. You try to push your face to his but he holds your face back. “No.” His voice is whiney as he speaks, forehead against yours. “No.” Neither of you pull away. 

The camera linked to the doorway chimes, reading the license plate out loud in its robotic and monotonous voice. A button beeps and a familiar voice is heard as the machine asks to state his name. “Barry Blackwell.” 

He doesn’t fully pull away, not until the front door opens and in comes Baz. 

You clear your throat, fixing your shirt as Pope goes back to cleaning. You smile politely at Baz, “Mr. Blackwell.” You greet. “Welcome.” 

His smile toward you is seen as charming by most. And you don’t hate it, but you don’t care for it. “You can call me Baz.” 

You grimace softly with a laugh, shaking your head. “No… my step-dad tells me to never put my boss at my level.” 

Baz ignores this, turning to his brother, watching him carefully. “You good, bro?” 

Pope nods stiffly, “good.” 

It’s awkward. Pope clearly isn’t good and his brother knows this. You know this. And Baz is about to push, about to ask again, when you jump in. “I’ll show you to your room.” You push off the sink. “It’s right across Lena’s. Come on.” 

Baz nods, grabbing his bags again and following behind you as you lead him out of the kitchen. You don’t turn to look at Pope, scared to see how upset he is. Not for fear, but because the disappointment in his features will make you want to rush back to him in front of their company. 

“This is a really nice place.” Baz chimes as he inspects the walls and furniture around. 

You hum, nodding. “Yeah. Sammy’s parents are really well off.” You tell him. “He’s a stockbroker or something like that, I don’t know, some boring stuff. Mother’s a lawyer.” 

He whistles softly, “fuck. Should’ve picked a different career.” 

You huff a small laugh, opening the door to his bedroom for the next few days. “Property manager isn’t cutting it?” You joke. 

“Not even close.” He drops his bag as she leads him into the sleek and clean room. “They happily married?” 

You smile softly, “very happily.” You answer, unsure of what to say next. “Uhm… it’s late. I’m gonna go put Lena to bed and—“ 

“How is she?” He cuts you off. “Lena? Was she… upset?”

It almost warms you to know that he does care, which gets harder and harder to believe the longer you take care of the little girl. “At first, yeah. But she got over it. She’s having fun here. She picked some fruit with the gardener and Nicky when we got in. We’re thinking of making a pie tomorrow.” 

He lets out a breathy little laugh, nodding as he slumps onto the edge of the bed, taking a much needed seat. You’re slowly sliding back to the door, needing a quick escape. “So, you—“ 

He interrupts you again, “thank you, by the way.” He hums. “Allison’s boyfriend doesn’t want her to watch kids anymore while pregnant. And her mother…” he trails off for a moment. “She doesn’t care for being a mother any longer, clearly. Know you weren’t fond of kids at first, heard J mention it to Nicky. But youre good with her.” 

You take the compliment, “thank you. She’s… she’s a really great girl.” You add, “so, can—“ 

Again. “You are too.” You tense at his words. “You’re a great girl.” 

“Oh… uhm…” you wipe your sweaty palms against your bottoms, drying them as best as you can. “Tha-thank y—“ 

You almost want to yell when you’re interrupted again. But you feel relief wash over you when Lena rushes into the room, “daddy!” She jumps into her fathers arms, cheering happily and rambling away about what she did today.

This gives you the chance to slip out of the room, a heavy breath leaving you once you’re in the clear. “Fuck…” you mutter softly, anxious from the too long moment. 

You push off the wall you were leaning against, eyes falling onto Pope’s as he stands at the stairway, watching you with a cup of warm milk at hand. For Lena, of course. He’s watching you carefully, worried. You send him a small smile and walk to your bedroom, embarrassed. 

authors note . . . hiiii sorry for the lag!! hope you guys like it <3

taglist (purged it a little, sorry if i took you off and you DO interact, just message me and I’ll add you. other than that, taglist is open, only a few spots open) . . . @theariespov @slytherclaw1978 @manilovewomen1 @harhar0777  @cassierins @hhusbuds  @shitface-t @firstlyferrari @marauvderss @vesperazhier @love-pluto-love @peachyfckingkeen @wylewhims @byfragonard @xreader1989 @inbred-eater @verygentlementrash @sagelovesbooks @callmestgalex @robinavitchabbotslut @momdancingtomcr @pr3ttygirlavenue @cherryybombbthoughts @tatoda @cosmicneptune @buckystwilight @iansunibrow @cosmosnkaz @feminine-ominon @caterppillar @milestellerismybf @scream4mami @niyizh @4ngelest @4rtem4r

[iloverodentmen]

What do you think about Andrew Cody’s gf buying him a bunch of clothes that he would never buy or try on. She tells him that no one will ever see him in them but he thinks he would look hot in some of the outfits. I think the idea of him standing in an outfit with his normal resting face would be hilarious! But he does it for his girl because it makes her happy!

he is soooo cute!

standing in the middle of the dressing room, curtain wide open while you blabber about his “color palette”. he has no idea what that even means but your eyes are shiny and your lips are painted with a smile he can’t deny.

“i can’t figure out if you’re a winter or an autumn” you tilt your head while you hold up a dark blue button down and a maroon one, debating which of the two makes his eyes pop the most.

“i was born in summer baby you know that” he grunts, hands hitching down his sides to grab you and get the hell out from that dressing room.

you giggle shaking your head and placing the dark blue shirt on top of his chest “i know that silly… i meant as colors undertones”

pope blinks, still not really getting what’s going on in your bright mind “try this on please?” you coo.

“baby that’s the tenth shirt i’ve put on” he complains but still takes off his shirt, revealing his muscled, freckled chest.

“but this is a different one c’mon!” your manicured nails help him with the buttons and with the collar, fixing it with the pads of your fingers. you look at his reflection in the mirror and nod your head “yup! you’re definitely a winter”

he has no idea what you’re blabbing about but you seem happy, and he’d do anything for his girl to be happy.

[popepout]

andrew pope cody and the way he’s a daddy dom without even really knowing what that is … the way he just knows that he has to baby you sometimes, and that you need him to be either extra strict or soft on certain days, and that you really like when he plans your whole day for you down to your outfit ‘n tells you how everything is gonna go.

[jackcody]

are we awake? am i too old to be this stoned? — j. abbot

summary: in the middle of the pittsburgh heatwave, jack abbot shows you he's not that old.

a/n: based on this and this. the title is from the 1975 song, “a change of heart"; it has NOTHING to do with this fic. also this was supposed to be a blurb.

tags/warnings: mdni!!!, use of kiddo and jackie, dad's best friend!jack abbot, stoner!jack abbot, perv!jack abbot, unprotected pinv, intox kink, weed kink, shotgunning smoke, consensual drug sex, breeding kink, age gap, cockwarming, the usual parade.

w/c: 1.5k

acknowlegement(s): thanks, @wesandresons, for the gif!!!

masterlist ★ taglist ★ blurb asks are open!

“you know, guys your age don’t smoke with girls younger than them.”  

jack is lying on your bed in the high summer heat – one arm thrown lazily over his eyes, a meagre attempt to block out the sun spilling from the curtains. you sit cross-legged next to him, an old college shirt hanging off one shoulder, joint in hand.

the ceiling fan hums in the background – the odour of the weed sticking in the air.

“yeah well,” jack starts, flopping his arm on the sheets beneath him before sitting up with a low groan. he turns his face to see yours, his hair unruly as the light catches the silver at his temples. he glances down at your lips as you take another puff of the joint. 

“you make me feel years younger, kiddo.” 

he leans over, his calloused hand falling onto your knee where your shirt meets your thigh. rubbing small, lazy circles onto your kneecap as jack looks up to you through half-lidded eyes. 

“come sit on daddy’s lap,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep and heat. 

you raise an eyebrow, the joint hanging out of your lips. jack settles back on the bed, patting his thigh with a relaxed smile. 

“don’t complain when your back hurts, old man," you giggle, swinging your legs over his lap, straddling his thighs with a slow, practised movement.  

once you're settled, jack reaches up and plucks the blunt off your lip, the pad of his thumb pulling down your lower lip. he takes a puff; the cherry end burns orange when he exhales. a plume of smoke escaping his parted lips.

he looks up, taking you in.   

the shirt has ridden up – the white of his stolen boxer briefs peeking out. your chest falls and rises in short bursts, nipples hard under the thin fabric. your hips grind instinctively against his clothed bulge as he pinches them through the shirt, his index finger and thumb tugging your nipples as you watch jack swallow around a moan. 

his head hits the headboard. “oh, you’re trouble,” jack says, his hand sneaking up the hem of your shirt. his eyes search your bloodshot ones; in a silent agreement, he takes it off in one swoop, fingers deftly unclasping the bra.  

he doesn’t take his eyes off the sight. not even to throw the clothes somewhere on the floor.   

you, half-naked on his lap, wearing his boxers.   

his pretty girl.   

“you going to take those boxers off? or are you going to let jackie do everything?”   

you hum in faux thought, dragging his free hand down to the waistband, leaning back on the heels of your feet. his fingers skim over the logo before slipping in and tugging them down halfway.   

your hands make quick work of his belt, discarding it on the floor whilst he sets the joint on the glass ashtray beside him on the nightstand, hands stumbling when you palm him through his pants again. 

with a moan, jack makes quick work of the rest of his clothes. he pushes the rest of the pants with his boxers off his legs in one frantic motion until his cock springs free and his stomach.   

“look at what you did to me, kiddo,” he says, his voice hoarse and rough. 

he spits in his hand before stroking the length of his cock in long, slow strokes. you bite your lip, beads of blood breaking skin at the intrusion. 

“need you so badly, jackie,” you crawl up to his chest, hovering your cunt above him making work of his cock. you whine, your nails digging crescent shapes into his freckled shoulders. “god, jackie, please, fuck me.”

jack stops the pumps of his hand to dip two fingers in your folds, groaning at your wetness – you don’t even know whether it’s from the pot you’ve been smoking for the past ten minutes or sitting on jack’s lap, bare, laid out for him, but that doesn't matter. 

not when he's fucking you with reckless abandon. not w

the only thing that crossed your mind was him, tunnel vision and the haze of smoke fogging any rational thinking – the world minimising to jack, your jackie, relieving the coil in your stomach. 

“this all for me, kiddo?” he breathes out, bringing his fingers to his mouth. his tongue swirls over the ridges on his fingers, humming lowly under his breath. he smacks his lips, darting his tongue out to catch a stray drop. “god, she’s soaked for me. you want my cock that badly?” 

you nod frantically, pawing at his dick helplessly. jack chuckles, his voice dropping with a hint of condescension. “oh, my girl is needy. but that’s okay. that’s what she has me for, doesn’t she?” 

he rubs his cock slowly through your folds, his hand catching your body as you collapse further into him. 

“jackie, its-” 

“i know, jackie’s here,” jack hushes you, rubbing his thumb in circles against your hip bone. 

he finally pushes into your entrance with a groan; his eyes squeezing shut as he nudges into you inch by inch. you let out a cry as he bottoms out – jack's lips smash against yours, swallowing your moans as he thrusts his hip up languidly. 

you gasp as he moves beneath you, jack using this opportunity to slip his tongue past your mouth; the sticky heat and the faint tangy taste of your pussy on his mouth making your head spin. 

you pull back from his lips for a breath of fresh air, leaning your forehead on his.

“god, you feel so fucking good for me, baby,” jack says, his voice husky from desire. with another roll of your hips, he lets out a low, strangled moan as his fingers leave small indents in the flesh of your hip. 

“jackie, it feels so good,” you mewl, looking at him through glassy eyes; your jaw is slack as drool collects at the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin. 

“i know, baby, i know.” his calloused hands grab your waist, his grip sure and firm as he stalls your hips, movement coming all down to a halt. 

reaching out blindly, jack’s hands feel out for the discarded blunt. once he’s got it, he sits up properly, his cock shifting inside you, causing you to whimper again. 

“jackie,” you plead, sniffling. “please don’t stop.” 

“shhh,” jack coos, biting your earlobe with a sharp tug; his other hand rubs your back up and down in a soothing motion. “i got you. you trust me don’t you?” 

jack takes a massive toke, his chest heaving in as he stubs out the remaining embers into the glass tray. roughly carding through the hair from the nape of your neck, jack pulls you in to meet your lips, blowing the smoke into your lips as he keeps pressing into you. 

the room quickly fills up again with moans and grunts, sounds of flesh hitting flesh as jack continues his half-hearted thrusts, chasing the pleasure as if it continues to slip out of his grasp repeatedly. 

he lets out another groan at the feeling of your cunt clenching up on him. through the thin veil of smoke, he looks up at your fucked-up gaze, bouncing up and down on your knees as you take pleasure from him.

“baby, i’m going to cum-fuck—" he manages to choke out as you fuck yourself onto him harder. “shit, i’m going to fucking cum in you.” 

you moan at his words, nothing he’s saying even registering in your brain. the only thing, at this moment, worth remembering is the feeling of his cock twitching inside you as he hits your g-spot. 

“jackie, please i fucking want it!” you babble, the unrelenting heat in your lower back pooling. 

“kiddo wants my cum?” 

so unfortunate he didn’t record this one, he could listen to that on loop for hours.

“kiddo wants jackie to cum in her?” jack groans, continuing the bucking up of his hips. “jackie will make her all nice and round with his cum, yeah? and then she’ll have to explain to her father why his best friend got her all barefoot and pregnant?”

“you want that, kiddo?”

“god, jesus, fuck my father. shut up and just fucking cum in me.”

at those words, jack hips stutter as he fucks his load into you, feeling the walls of your pussy tightening on his cock – both of you cumming at the same time. once you ride out your wave, you lean fully into him, his softening dick still inside you as he flutters his eyes shut. 

a moment passes, the room plunging into silence – the only noise coming from the faint zooming of the cars outside and the heavy inhales and exhales coming from both of you, a tangled mess of limbs, on your bed.

“jesus,” you groan, burrowing your face into his neck as jack puts his face into your hair. “you going to move?” 

“well,” he starts, his voice lilted as he takes a large exhale, “you wanted my cum in you so...now we just have to wait until your daddy comes home.” 

taglist: @shawtsy @tempestfawn @iramagnus @artsymaddie @esmereldalopez0 @rabbotism @supernovaandthestars @mcvadicrumbs @vastlyproudlake @sofianotvergara @suspicious-stain-in-spain @realwhoreforfictionalmen @hotwithautism

[popepout]

inexperienced!reader & pent up!pope </3 you’re trying so hard to make him feel good as you kneel between his strong thighs, but you’re barely able to take the first two inches of him in your mouth without gagging. you’re just drooling on his fat cock and blowing spit bubbles down the side of his shaft as your hand pumps him. he can tell that you’re embarrassed— that you think you aren’t doing a good job. he can sense that you’re seconds away from crying and sniffling even though he hasn’t scolded you once. he would teach you, actually he wants to teach you how to please him properly with your mouth and throat terribly … but he’s too busy trying not to blow his load just from feeling and watching you mouth at him like you’re starving for it.

[polkedot]

੭꣒ ˖ ❛ bf!langdon who takes the phrase “kiss and makeup” a little too seriously.

c.ws :: mdni , smut , slight degradation , missionary so you can continue arguing , dirty talk.

"stop being so fucking mad at me." frank grumbles out from above, driving the point home by grinding his cock in deeper inside you. your thighs quiver despite yourself where they're hooked around his waist, lewd slapping noises permeating the room just to tease you. “i said sorry an hour ago.”

you keep turning your face, trying to angle it out of reach, or at least force the fury back into your expression. you can’t fight the scrunch of pleasure that crosses your face, however. he can see that too. the grudge held like a stone dam, meant to keep your pride immune and well guarded from the way he's fucking you into the mattress. but it never works.

"m’not-"

"you are." he nips at your shoulder, voice muffled. "you keep clenching up when i talk.” his hips rear back steadily, a wet squelch sounding from where you're joined, then he sinks back in with a grunt of effort. "except down here."

the truth stings worse than the fight itself: frank knows you like the back of his hand. the front and back. he knows exactly how to fuck you until your resentment feels misplaced and petty.

hands that had been pushing against his chest find the silky sheets instead, clutching tight.

"it was a stupid fight," he pushes in again, slowly, allowing you to relish in the thick ridge and veins dragging along your walls while he explains the situation to you.

"and you know it." pride makes you not answer, of course, the only thing you can manage is a soft whine.

"sweetheart," he sighs. "you really gonna let me cum in this pussy while you're busy pretendin' to hate me?" you blink up at him in silent retort. defiance radiating from every inch of your face.

"mmm." the man even has the audacity to pinch the bridge of his nose, like you're the one being unreasonable. like he’s not currently balls deep. "always so fucking stubborn." he reaches between your bodies, thumbing lazily at your clit. "you think i like walking out?"

rage bubbles back up your throat at once, rolling your eyes with the little attitude you had remaining. "you slammed the door — our door — and left."

"you knew damn well i'd come back…” he grunts, not missing a beat to retort. an especially brutal thrust has you seeing stars. "you’re a smart girl, stop acting stupid, yeah?" you try to hitch your hips, to hurry him along but he only holds you down, eyes narrowing.

"go ahead and scream all you want, curse me out, break something if you need to. but don't fall asleep hating me.” he rambles on, shaking his head faintly. “can’t take that shit."

your words come out sharp, bitter once you find your voice. "so what’s your plan, fuck me into forgiveness?”

there's no hesitation in him when a toothy grin splits across his face, "there you go. if we fight in the morning? before work? fine. but if we're sharing a bed like this, we fix it before we close our eyes. understood?" no thought forms twice before your head's nodding stupidly, not an ounce of resistance (or dignity) left in you as he sinks back in.

"good girl, now be sweet to me while i cum."

[cherrywineisawaltz]

MINORS DNI

texts w/ pope cody

[iloverodentmen]

SUB!JACKABBOTTBOOBMANPLS🥵

+18 MINORS DNI

i’m sorry but i can’t think about abbot being a sub FOR THE LIFE OF ME.

but abbot as a huuuuge boob man? that i can have a few thoughts about🤭

it’s either a hand under the swat t-shirt you stole from him, squeezing your tit mindlessly as he pays attention to one of his police tv shows he claims to like. thumb brushing over the bud of your nipple making you shiver, it’s safe to say you can’t pay attention to anything other than his hand playing with you.

OR sucking on the sensitive bud while you’re on top of him, cock buried deep inside you while you circle your hips the way you both like. sucking and biting at the skin underneath to mark you.

“my sweet tits…gonna be full of milk soon hm?” he says in that sugary tone that makes you whine while he picks up the pace, thrusting up his leaky tip inside you :(((

[ickology]

𓏵 ┊ younger girlfriend squirting with jack abbot . 18+

you tell jack who’s been knuckles deep inside your pussy for the past hour that something feels weirder than usual, as you’re sitting in between his legs — your back pressed against his chest with your thighs parted giving him the perfect amount of access needed to pleasure you.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he murmurs against your temple with a gentle kiss as his calloused digits are rhythmically plunging in and out of your hole. curling his fingers sweet into that spongey spot inside of you, it’s almost cruel the way he knows exactly how to make you lose it. “it feels weird.” you testify, eyes fixated on the recurring disappearance of your boyfriend’s fingers inside of you.

“yeah? tell me what feels weird, hm.” he hums, feeling you shift and squirm against him as he holds one of your legs open by the backside of your knee. and you can barely utter the words from your mouth, “your fingers keep pressing against my bladder, its making me feel like i have to go— go to the bathroom.” you bite down on your bottom lip.

every time jack’s fingers plunge back inside you, it feels as if you’re peeing yourself already. as if the motion of his fingers are forcing that specific release from you. “that so?” you feel his chest rumble against you as he lets out a gruff chuckle, “that’s good then. that’s the feeling you want when it starts feeling good, sweetheart.” he reassures, as your walls pulse around his fingers.

you whine, throwing you head back against his shoulder. each drag of his digits bringing you closer, and closer towards the edge as you let out soft moans.

jack let’s out an impressed whistle once he starts to feel your hips rock into hand. “fuck— it feels good.” you moan warm against the side of his neck, “so good i might actually pee.” which earns a low, amused groan from jack.

“mhmm, you gonna make a mess on my hand?” he lifts his thumb up, before pressing mean against your swollen clit making you jolt. “w—wait!” you stammer, throwing your hands towards jack’s forearm in attempt to halt his movements as he shakes his head in disapproval. “uh-uh, can’t have you telling me to stop now.” he rasps, pressing circles around your nub as it twitches under the pad of this thumb.

“c’mon and show me how messy you can get.” his breath fans warm against your cheek, before your body’s involuntarily letting loose. your body is shaking, and your walls are caving in around jack’s digits as you’re whimpering. “thaat’s it, baby— give it to me.” he groans, targeting that sweet spot inside of you, before you’re making a wet mess all over yourself.

“mmgh, jack— jack.” you’re whimpering as slight humiliation fills your chest, though the pleasure is far too euphoric as he coaxes every last drop out of you. “atta girl.” he nudges his mouth against the side of your head to whisper in your ear. “i love nasty girls.” he groans.

[iloverodentmen]

18+ MINORS DNI

warnings: cheating

summary:pope can’t stand hearing your fake moans from the other room, it’s time he makes you have real ones

being j’s new girlfriend wasn’t exactly ideal.

he’d bring you to his house, have a swim in the pool,maybe have some mediocre sex that lasted not longer than five minutes and then he was off doing god knows what,you didn’t know. it wasn’t any of your business.

that’s why you started to fuck his uncle behind his back.

j couldn’t handle you, couldn’t even make you cum for goodness’ sake. pope knew that, he heard your fake moans through the walls that barely lasted a minute or two. he had to let you know how good it could actually feel.

so now he has gotten you bended over his dresser—slapping the fat skin of your ass at every thrust of his raw cock into your fluttering, gummy walls.

“popey…’s too big” you whine grabbing the edge of the dresser with your hands, your knuckles turning white “i know baby girl… my nephew doesn’t stretch you out enough does he?” he coos at your ear, he bites at the lobe making your back arch.

“this pussy‘s so fucking tight he doesn’t know what to do with it” pope gropes one of your tits spilling out from your top with a grunt. the sound of your whimpers and of your skin slapping against each other fill the room.

you’re lucky nobody’s home or everyone would have known what you two were up to.

you can feel your pussy clench around his cock, legs trembling closer to the release you so longed to achieve “you close sweetheart? gonna cum all over my cock,beautiful?” pope’s hand travels down your clit while his other one holds tightly onto your hip to slam it against his.

when you come around his cock, your legs fail you, making you almost fall over. he catches you in a heartbeat, placing you against his sweaty chest, holding you close “you’re okay sweet girl”

you nuzzle your nose in the crook of his neck, catching your breath “thank you for this” you mumble.

pope huffs like he has just been offended by your words “no need to thank me…such a good girl” he plants a kiss above your head “am not done with you”

j wonders why you have marks all over your collarbones and thighs for days after that!!! he swears he doesn’t remember giving you any :(

[immortalvoyagerparagon]

[angelofthepitt]

jealous.