at a barbecue right now and i’m a little tipsy and im thinking about how sammy bryant would fucking love you as his little housewife.
uggghhh all afternoon he would feed you fruity drinks he made especially for you to make sure you’re all tipsy and giggly. he’s at the grill smiling to himself while you make all the sides for his burgers and hot dogs.
you give him a fat kiss on the cheek every time you pass him to put a new salad or potato dish on the picnic table in the backyard. he sees you flit around the party checking on everyone’s needs. and he has to start palming himself through his jeans because he’s so turned on by your cutie apron he bought you :(
and when everyone leaves he fucks you raw in the living room cause he can’t even make it upstairs to the bed. he was so hard after seeing you serve food to his friends like the perfect hostess and cleaning up the house he bought for you.
and he begs to come inside you while panting in your ear “p-please babygirl. fuck im gonna come- need a baby on your hip at the next party. please please i need it- oh, oh fuck.”
I always see Pope x reader who fake dates Deran… but what if it were Craig reader falls in love with???
nonnie 😭 first of all everyone go read THIS popexderan'sfakegf!reader it is SO beautiful. and i LOVED every second of it.
this is how i imagine it w el craigo. reminder: all my works remain 18+ regardless of present explicit content. i ask that mdni. i am not your mommy YOU are responsible for your media consumption.
the fake girlfriend gig worked for craig for a little while. you and deran connected at the hip. you were a naturally touchy and flirty person, anyways. a hand laying down across deran's chest while he's sitting at the table and you stand behind him. feet kicked over his lap while he's lounging on the couch. craig has even seen the two of you makeout(you guys were shithoused). and he believed every second of it—until he caught deran and adrian while you had run out for groceries.
as soon as adrian cleaned up and left through the front door, craig stands at the kitchen island and turns to deran, "dude, it's not what you think it is."
"i mean, what exactly would you call it?" craig asks, one eyebrow raised as you open the door with an arm full of groceries, starting towards them.
"like i'm taking this sort of advice from the guy who contracted antibiotic resistant gonorrhea? twice?! i'm telling you, it's not what you think it is, man." deran shakes his head and grabs a beer before sliding his arm up on the door of the fridge to let you under.
"hi craig, hi d." you chirped, placing the fresh fruits on the bottom shelf.
deran closed the fridge behind you as you wrapped your arms around his torso, smiling sweetly at his older brother.
craig watched like a hawk every day forward from this point on. determined to figure out the dynamic, he was nosy, and he wasn't any good at it.
he stared from the kitchen window, watching you lounge in the pool while deran lit a joint in the chair just watching you tan. baz approaches from behind, "you look like pope when you stare like that." he grabs a beer from the fridge, pope piping up from the other side of the kitchen, "shut up."
craig shakes his head and goes outside to smoke with deran, ignoring them.
what craig doesn't see is you making eyes at him through your sunglasses, you just can't help it. it's not deran's fault his big brother is sex on legs and looks like he's pulled straight out of a viking movie.
this continues for months, but deran is a pattern recognizer. and he immediately clocks that you always make his plate and then craig's at family dinner, always outside smoking with craig now. that same float that you had lounged on a few months earlier staring at the tallest brother as he sat and smoked with your faux boyfriend? you now lounged on sipping a cocktail while craig did jumps off of the roof and diving board into the pool, after each jump you'd hold up a number of fingers like you were scoring his jumps. deran realizes he is running the hourglass out for time just waiting until you inevitably fall in love with someone since you aren't actually his girlfriend.
you were trying so hard to keep it up, and you did love deran. he was your better half, just in a very platonic sense. but you were slipping into loving craig so easily. he was so easy to talk to, and he responded. deran was an observer, a listener. craig is a dreamer, is bouncing ideas off of the crazy shit that comes out of your mouth. give you the best hugs, always kisses you goodbye on the crown of your head. hand at the small of your back when he squeezes behind you in the house. and one day you just fell all the way in. tripped and busted your ass. woke up and you suddenly loved the middle cody brother.
what deran fails to realize is that craig isn't as stupid as everyone thinks and he did in fact catch him on his knees in front of adrian. and every day deran tried to bury that further in his memory but he just couldn't do it.
the drop has it's grand opening tonight, you're getting ready at deran's and craig calls.
deran with you?
no, he's out with adrian surfing before the opening, are you okay?
click
fucking freak.
not even god himself knows why craig william cody—the habitual cheat—cared enough to be pissed that deran was lying to you and sleeping with another person. but he was.
craig marches himself right to the bar, shoving his way inside, "hey we need to talk." his voice is stern.
"oh yea?" deran quirks an eyebrow, drying freshly washed and sanitized glasses.
"what the fuck are you doing? she know you're fucking adrian?" he places his hands on the bar stiffly.
deran shakes his head, looking back at craig. "she's not my girlfriend. but yea, she knows." he pulls more dishes out to dry.
craig looks puzzled.
"she's a cover man. was easier that way, didn't know how everyone would feel about it." deran shrugged as craig's phone lit up with your name on it. "rich talk coming from the fuckin' dickhead who was trying to move in on her when he thought she was my girlfriend."
craig is rendered speechless for the first time, the front door creaks open and you push through, "gimme my shots bitch! m'ready to party!" you stride to deran and stand on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "you were supposed to come and fucking get me! you owe me $30 for the uber i had to take." you shoved a middle finger up at craig.
craig reaches in his pocket and grabs a few twenties and tosses em on the bar, not breaking eye contact with deran.
"why are you two having a staring contest?" you ask stepping away from deran, gaze bouncing between the two of them.
"what do you mean she's not your girlfriend?" the men don't acknowledge you.
"oh fuck, does he know?" you pull your hands off of deran and stare at them.
deran nods. "yea. we good?" he hands a beer to craig and resumes the dishes, ending the conversation
the gears in craig's head are turning as the bar starts to fill.
a few hours later, outside smoking a cigarette with him you nudge him with your arm, "sorry i didn't tell you, wasn't really my secret to spill."
blowing a drag out he cocks a smirk at you, "been protecting deran my whole life, i get it."
you stand up, stubbing your cigarette out, running your hand through craig's hair, "such a good brother." you lean down, whispering in his ear, before pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth this time.
𓏵 ┊ play fighting with pope cody leads to primal play . 18+
it starts off as a game, the innocent kind of game where he softens his strength to let you win the rough-housing match. playfully throwing you around whenever he gets a full grasp on your body — even dragging you by the ankle, down to the foot of the bed causing your thin top to ride up and panties bunch between your ass.
you’re lying against the bed giggling, flipping onto your stomach with pope’s fingers still wrapping around your ankle before you’re crawling away from him. knees digging to the mattress with your palms giving you speed, helping you make it towards to the top of the bed.
“where’d you think you’re goin’, sweetheart.” and suddenly your can hear him right behind you, his monotone voice right against the shell of your ear whispering softly. “i’m running away,” you reply out of breath, still panting from all the wrestling as pope looms over your body, boxing you in.
“yeah?” he replies short, tilting his head — his eyes darting below him, tracing over your body like he’s studying you to see what you’d do next before he’s releasing your ankle, and your instantly attempting to flip backside against the mattress — but the moment you try, you fail because pope’s immediately pinning your wrists above your head.
you let out an exasperated laugh, unable to move. currently stuck in what seems to favor a doggy fashion. “c’mon, andiee.” you playfully drag his name, “you know this is unfair, you’re way stronger than me.” you testify, attempting to free your wrists from out of his grasp but he’s not budging.
instead, he’s lowering himself onto you. pressing his weight against you the moment he feels your wrists wiggling in between his palm.
“andy?” you call his name a little suspiciously only to receive silence as he ducks his head down, causing your spine to arch deeper as his pelvis nudges into your ass making you feel the bulge in his pants.
“you don’t wanna play no more?” pope asks, mouth nipping at any area of exposed skin he can see. “thought you wanted to play.” he adds before giving you the chance to answer. and you can feel the slight increase of your pulse quicken, and breathing stagger from more than just the game.
he grinds ever so slightly against the entrance of your pussy clothed by the fabric of your panties, as you let out a noise that makes him groan in response. “an—”
“shhh— all you need to do is find a way to get free.” he cuts you off, tightening his grip around your wrists as he mummers.
and this is was the moment where you knew that the once innocent game you two were just playing, wasn’t so innocent anymore.
andrew, who is so sleepy and overstimulated from a long day, that he fucks you in doggy on the couch while you watch a movie <3
doesn’t look away from the screen, only to kiss your spine and put his cheek to your upper back. his lips pout as he lays across you, wrapping his big arms around your stomach to squeeze you tight in his own, possessive bear hug. doesn’t slip out, just keeps driving deeper & deeper as he cuddles you and whimpers out “‘s so good… feels so nice.”
kinda icky kinda hot thought BUT imagine pope is pissy about you going out with your friends. he was annoyed about you going out in general but even more so when you told him he was forbidden from following you there and lurking in the club like the protective guard dog he is. any other night he would've disregarded your demand but he was particularly needy about wanting you to stay home. this was something you had planned weeks in advanced but he was being selfish, he wanted you and he wanted you home. that's all that mattered to him, he didn't give two flying fucks about your friends.
so he's watching you get yourself ready, all dolled up as you sit at your vanity doing your makeup. you're still in a robe but what you fail to notice over the sound of your music playing is the way he's been pumping his cock into his fist bitterly, chewing at his bottom lip holding back his moans. he's timed it just right. as your reaching over for the setting spray. he's appeared beside, grabbing the nape of your neck gently and tilting your head up to look at him. his lips are on yours before you can protest, he's gentle about it not wanting to ruin your makeup just yet. he pulls away before you can whine for more, there's that pout on your face as he looks down at you. there's a slight rustling.
"close your eyes."
"what-"
he's got his cock right in your line of sight now but the first spurt of his cum hitting your cheek causes your eyes to clench close. you try to pull away but he's got your hair in his fist right at the base of your neck. he's groaning as he paints your face white in his cum, droplets running down your cheek as he brings your face closer as smears his tip across your lips dragging it through the mess before smacking your cheek with his cock. he pulls back and turns your face to the mirror. your makeup is completely ruined and your lipstick is smudged onto your cheek too now.
"looks like you're gonna have to start over... maybe you should just stay home."
missing my sweetie big dick fictional man right now and thinking about how pope cody would have no idea he’s good at sex.
like completely clueless.
he would be on his knees, eating you out until you’re clawing at the sheets, eyes brimming with tears, spine arching like it’s about to snap. pope doesn’t even really know what he’s doing. he just makes sure to repeat everything that makes you clench around his fingers and twitch on his tongue. and you’re so close when he curls his two thick digits and sucks you into his mouth. your legs lock up.. your belly feels tight with tingles.. pleasure starts to rise almost alllll the way to your ears and…
he pulls away with a gruff “d’ya like that?”. and it’s not a sexy taunt. his tone is questioning and he’s being completely, utterly serious. you whine in frustration “andrew!!” he looks genuinely confused. “w-what?” your hips buck towards his mouth involuntarily, body aching with the need to come. “i was so close!” popes dark brows furrow in confusion. “you were…” it takes him three slow blinks while staring at your squirming thighs and fluttering pussy to finally understand. his eyes widen “oh shit- m’ sorry sweetheart..” then dives back in. sucking you and scissoring his fingers until you cry out his name and come on his face about twenty seconds later.
or or or. he doesn’t really understand how huge his cock feels inside of you. he’s aware he’s well endowed. but he thinks you’re just being a good girlfriend when you moan so loud at his first push into your tight pussy. pope always forgets that you’re not just stroking his ego. not quite understanding that you’re loud whimpers that accompany his thick length are authentic. he’ll thrust in and out of you harsh at the start. you can barely speak through the painful stretch of his rapid plunges. your gasps are choked “a-andy! andy s-slow down!” and he does get a little lost in the sauce as he watches your tits bounce beneath him. you have to slap at his shoulder to snap him out of it. “fuck- sorry. feels s’good. i’ll- hhnng- i’ll go slow. promise.”
then he’ll roll over until you’re on top of him. hands bracing his chest and thighs nestled firmly at his hips. he lets you set the pace to make sure he won’t hurt you again. it’s sweet.. until he won’t move again at all unless you’re bouncing up and down fervently. begging him to thrust up into you. “p-please! andy it doesn’t hurt.. need you- please!” once he decides you’re in no pain at all, he’ll grip your hips and piston up into you until you can’t move on your own anymore. completely filled with him. drooling at the pleasure coiling in your lower stomach. and pope is more than confident that you’re not exaggerating when you collapse with a raspy moan as you orgasm on his thick cock <3
making a sex tape with pope on of those shitty old cameras because he will take absolutely no risk of anyone getting to see you like this but him. filming it on a phone is just to risky! what if he slips up and looses it? or what if someone hacks it?
but in the video it’s grainy footage of him zoomed in on your cunt that’s sucking him in, moving in and out of you slowly, you can hear him softly behind the camera “ohhhh yeah baby, feels good hm?” he’s pushing his fat thumb onto your clit after letting a glob of his spit fall to it, rubbing you slowly in circles. “feel you clenching up around me, you feeling good bunny? gonna come on my cock?”
you’re whining below him, head tipped back against the pillows as you claw at his arms and nod “please-andy fuck” he smirks above you, “that’s alright sweetheart, daddy likes making you feel good”. the audio is crunchy and sputtering out every now and then, but fuck as you rewatch it you swear it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Being Ashley Barrett’s personal assistant may have bought you killer networking opportunities in Vought but it's also made you the fixation of the most dangerous man in the nation. Homelander receives you with stars in his eyes but you would never know it. You live in a constant state of minimal terror with the supe strutting around your workplace.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ He's developed a pavlovian response to the scent of your perfume and pauses during meetings to inhale its remnants after you've left the room. He's left with a near orgasmic expression on his face every time. Once, while you were taking meeting minutes, Homelander stared at you blankly. You were certain he was contemplating snapping your neck but he was just mesmerized by the pulse of aroma fluttering at the base of your throat.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ You've never held a real conversation with him but he's stricken by the idea of you. He uses his super hearing to eavesdrop on your private conversations and gets irrationally jealous of anybody you mention with affection.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Homelander finds your fear of him both intoxicating and frustrating. He wants you to love him but he only inspires terror when he steps into your personal space.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ He interprets your avoidance as a game. He doesn't realize you're simply trying to survive corporate day-to-day. He's only focused on his own agony and figuring out how to possess you without breaking you in the process.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Homelander finds himself on the roof most evenings to watch your car leave the parking garage. He tracks the sound of your heartbeat until you're miles away and he hates that he needs you. He also hates that you fear him. Most of all, he hates that he's never felt more alive than when he's scaring the hell out of you.
content <𝟑 .ᐟ 18+, overbearing!pope & f!reader, piss kink / watersports, no actual smut, implied age gap -> use of kid.
andrew is so clingy that you can barely go to the bathroom in the middle of the night anymore— you wake up and your skin is feeling sticky despite your sleep shirt because he’s glued to you, that’s the first thing you notice. then you’re squirming, wiggling in his arms and quietly whining because you have to pee so bad that your tummy hurts and his grip is still as unrelenting as ever.
“stop that.” he grumbles against your ear once all of your moving pulls him out of his slumber. his arms tighten around you some more, which you didn’t think was possible. your hands come up to push at his chest and you swear he growls when your palms meet his pecs.
“i have to pee ‘n you’re holding me hostage, andrew.” you mumble through a sleepy pout. you peer at his face— you’re unable to see him fully but you just know he’s scowling with his eyes screwed shut.
so you come to a compromise through raspy words and annoyed huffs.
you end up sitting on the toilet with one of your hands held in his. your other rubs the sleep out of your eyes that are barely open under the bright bathroom lights. your face is puffy and the tee shirt hanging off of your frame does nothing to cover up the little bit of your pussy he can see and the tops of your thighs. your knees come together with your cotton panties all bunched up and settled around them. and andrew, god help him, cannot take his eyes off of you.
he knows he shouldn’t be enjoying this, per se. anyone else would consider it gross, or at least he imagines they would, but the fact that you let him come with you. that you’re holding his hand and nearly clinging to his arm while you use the bathroom like a sleepy, barely house-trained kitten… it’s doing something to him.
“don’t watch.” you say bashfully, not bothering to look up at him. you can feel his gaze on you as you let go finally. the sound makes you wince because well, your boyfriend is standing right there.
“why?” he whispers back as if it’s not big deal, “it’s kinda cute.”
the comment almost goes over your head since you’re not thinking straight. you don’t react at first, not until after you yawn and finish tinkling. that’s when you lift your head a bit and look at him with furrowed brows and eyes that are glassy due to lingering exhaustion, “you think watchin’ me pee is cute?”
“i mean— i think watching you do anything is cute, kid.”
you hum at that, squeezing his hand before getting ready to clean yourself up, “good save.”
“scientists don’t want you know” is a phrase that always cracks me up because if you actually meet a scientist they will be shaking and crying like an overstimulated chihuahua with the need to let you know
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