andrew pope cody with his hands braced on the bed on either side of your head, rutting his cock against your slick and puffy cunt and begging you to let him put it inside. his desperate voice repeating the same words over and over, âplease please please, iâll make you feel so good, just let meâlet me inside your pussy, oh fuck, pleaseââ
giggling and telling him no, tilting your hips up to meet his, just to watch the way his shoulders shake from the effort of holding himself up like this, holding himself back. restraint turning his eyes glassy and wet and deliciously close to tears. and heâs so beautiful like this, so perfect and submissive and made in a good boy factory just for you.
when you finally take pity on him, when you tuck your forefinger under his chin and rub your thumb along his bottom lip, the one thatâs already dropped open to accommodate his breathy whines and his pleading, wet with his spit and pink from kissing you for over an hour before this, you tell him, âokay, andrew, you can put it inside.â
and the noise he makes is nothing short of a sob, head of his cock catching against your opening before it slips inside, stretches you open. heâs so on edge that he comes after two jerky thrusts, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, wings of his shoulder blades cowing together. the aftershocks run along his spine, making him twitch.
you push the sweat at his hairline into his curls, scratch your nails into his scalp until he shivers, looking up at you as he mouths his way down your body. your collarbone and your breasts, the soft swell of your belly. he shoulders your legs open even wider to accommodate the sheer size of them, presses your knees back to your chest so he can press his mouth against your used cunt.
âso good for me, andrew,â you murmur as he slowly licks his cum out of you, eyes locked onto yours and rocking his overstimulated cock into the mattress beneath him. âyou like the way you taste inside of me?â
and he just groans, sucks on your clit in response.
-18+ explicit content, i was struck with inspiration after watching the movie lols, unprotected sex, spanking, morning sex, riding and doggy and slight hair pulling! i think thats all xoxo!
sunlight was already filtering through the blinds, casting long, lazy shadows across the room, but the warmth radiating from the body next to you felt much more potent.
bobby was awake before you were, which was a rare sight, pressing soft lazy kisses against your forehead and the nape of your neck. it was a grounding, intimate sort of wake-up call that had you melting back into the pillows, not quite ready to face the day ahead. when he finally pulled away, you felt the sudden emptiness of the space beside you, but you were still too sleepy to protest.
he slipped out of bed, the mattress springs creaking softly in protest, and padded barefoot toward the bathroom. you trailed after him a few minutes later after you slipped into the oversized t-shirt heâd left draped over the back of the chair. it swallowed you whole, smelling unmistakably of him, and you felt a sudden wave of domestic contentment wash over you.
in the bathroom mirror, you stood practically staring at him shirtless, blonde hair still messy from sleep.
you leaned against the sink counter next to him as he brushed his teeth, watching him in the reflection. he hands you your toothbrush without even asking, the gesture is so automatic that neither of you think about it anymore.
soon you're both standing side by side at the sink, brushing your teeth in comfortable silence. the morning light spills through the small window above the bathtub, painting everything gold.
he finished quickly, spat into the sink, he turned off the water and turned to you, âgonna go make breakfast,â he says, his hand rubbing over hip in soothing motions, âyou want coffee, or you good?â
âno coffee, thanks,â you mutter, he gives you one last look before reaching back to give your ass a firm, playful slap then wandering out to make breakfast.
you finish up and pad back the bed, sliding back under the covers. youâre not quite ready to fully start your day yet, not when the world outside feels so far away. the bed dips as he returns, a bowl of cereal in his hand, and you watch him from the blankets.
heâs shirtless, the morning light catching the lines of his chest and the dusting of hair that leads down toward the waistband of his pajama pants. heâs slurping the cereal loudly, the sound loud in the quiet room, but you barely notice. you canât take your eyes off him. he looks so good like this. so effortlessly handsome.
you watched him finish his cereal, the spoon scraping against the ceramic bowl, the sound echoing in the quiet room. he set the empty bowl on the nightstand, his movements languid, still heavy with sleep.
âyou are so sexy.â you say straight up, his eyes found yours in the dim light, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face.
"am i?" he drawled, the corner of his mouth ticking up into a smirk. he set the bowl down with a soft clink and shifted, turning his full attention to you. the languid sleepiness evaporated from his eyes, replaced by a sharp, predatory glint.
âmhmmâ you hummed as he leaned closer.
then he reaches out, hooking a finger into the collar of the oversized t-shirt you wore, his shirt, and gave it a little tug. âwhy don't you come over here and show me just how sexy you think i am?"
he didn't wait for an answer. he closed the remaining distance, his lips crashing against yours.
"come on," he muttered against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. "put in a little work for me babe." he pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, his gaze dark and intense. "get on and ride me."
he guided you, his hands strong and sure as he positioned you to straddle his lap. you could feel how hard he was already, his arousal pressing hot and heavy against you slightly.
"that's it," he praised, his hands gripping your hips, encouraging you to move. "grind that wet pussy on me, yeahhhhhh. just like that."
you started to move, a slow roll of your hips that had him groaning, his head falling back against the headboard. his eyes had a look of pure, unadulterated lust.
the oversized t-shirt was now rucked up around your waist, every nerve ending was on fire, screaming for his touch, his weight, his anything. his pajama pants doing a piss-poor job of hiding the now full on erection straining against the fabric.
"get your cock out, bobby-" you demanded, your voice a raw, desperate whine. you tried to grind your hips up toward him, to get any kind of friction.
"patience, baby," he cooed, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. he leaned forward slightly, the movement causing the bulge in his pants to brush against your core, and you let out a choked sob.
"bobby, please!" you cried, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes. your entire body felt like a live wire, humming with a desperate, frantic energy. "if you don't shove your dick in me in the next 5 seconds i'm gonna scream-"
"fuck- alright, hold on-" his composure finally cracked, he fumbled with the drawstring of his pajama pants, his fingers clumsy in his haste. yanking the pants down just enough to free himself.
he was hard and flushed in his hand, the rosy pink tip already glistening with precum. he gave himself a few rough pumps with his fist, his eyes locked on your exposed, needy cunt, and the sight of him so undone by your desperation sent a fresh wave of arousal through you.
"spread your legs wider," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "wider. let me see that pretty little pussy."
you complied instantly, you opened yourself to him. he didn't wait another second. he lined himself up with your entrance, the blunt head of his cock teasing you, and then, with one sharp, powerful thrust, he was inside you.
the sudden, brutal stretch of him stole your breath. his hips flush against yours, his balls pressed against your ass. he gave you a moment to adjust, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you knew you'd have bruises tomorrow.
"fuck, you're so wet," he groaned, his voice strained.
he started to move you then, a slow, deep, punishing rhythm that had you seeing stars. each thrust up his cock hitting that spot deep inside you that made your toes curl.
"is this what you wanted?" he panted, his voice a raw, guttural sound that vibrated through your entire body.
his fingers were digging into the flesh of your hips, hard enough to leave bruises, using the leverage to pull you down onto him with every upward snap of his own hips. the sound was obscene, a wet, rhythmic slapping that echoed in the quiet room, mingling with the creak of the bed springs and your own ragged breaths.
"you wanted me to fuck you like this? hmm?â
you could only moan in response, a high, desperate sound that was half pleasure, half surrender.
your hands had flown up to tangle in the messy blonde hair at the nape of his neck, your fingers clenching and unclenching with each powerful thrust.
the angle was perfect, the head of his cock brushing against that sensitive spot deep inside you with every stroke, sending jolts of white-hot pleasure shooting up your spine. all you could do was hold on and take it, your body a pliant instrument for his pleasure.
suddenly, he stopped. his hips stilled, and he was just buried inside you, throbbing and hot. the sudden absence of movement was a jolt, a denial that made you whine in protest. he pulled his head back, his hands still gripping your hips, forcing you to stillness.
"hey," he said, his voice sharp, cutting through the haze of your arousal. "answer me. m'talking to you."
the command cut through the fog. you blinked, trying to focus your vision, trying to form words. "y-yes!" you stammered, your voice trembling with the effort of speaking. "yes! i said yes!"
a slow grin spread across his face, a look of satisfaction. "yeahhh," he breathed, the sound a low, approving rumble. he gave you one last, hard grind of his hips, making you gasp, before he abruptly lifted you off him as if you weighed nothing. he maneuvered you, his hands firm and directive, until you were on your hands and knees in the center of the bed.
"get on all fours," he commanded, his hand coming down in a sharp, stinging smack on your exposed ass. you yelped, more from surprise than pain. "ass up, c'mon. present that pretty little pussy to me."
you scrambled to obey, arching your back and lowering your shoulders to the mattress, pushing your ass up into the air. you felt incredibly exposed, vulnerable, and the feeling sent a fresh wave of liquid heat pooling in your core. you could hear the rustle of fabric as he moved behind you, and then his hands were on you again, spreading your cheeks apart.
"look at that, baby" he murmured, his voice thick with appreciation. he ran a thumb through your slick folds, circling your entrance but not entering, teasing you until you were squirming, pushing back against him in silent supplication.
he positioned himself at your entrance and, with one powerful, relentless thrust, he was buried to the hilt. the new angle was deeper, more intense, and you cried out, your fingers digging into the sheets as he set a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping against your ass with each brutal stroke.
"that's it," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady as he fucked into you. "take it-â
his words were filthy, degrading, and they only made you want him more. you pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts, your body moving in a primal rhythm as he chased his release, dragging you along with him.
he leaned down, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth next to your ear. "come on, babe," he whispered through loud pants, moaning and huffing into your ear. "cum, let me feel you cream on my cock. fucking do it."
âohmygodohmygodbobby!-â you moan loudly,
"shhh, shut up, shut up," he suddenly hissed, his hand came down hard on your ass, the sharp smack echoing in the quiet room. "you're going to wake everybody up-"
"god, you're so fucking tight," he groaned, removing his hand from your mouth to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back. "such a good girl, ive got such a good ass girl-"
the condescending tone was still there, but now it was laced with a desperate need that mirrored your own.
you buried your face in the sheets, muffling your cries. your hands fisting in the sheets as he drove into you, his thrusts became more desperate and his hand coming down to rub your pulsing clit. "cum, cum fâme," he panted, his voice strained.
and with his words, the coil in your stomach snapped, pleasure washing over you in intense, dizzying waves. your vision went white, your body arching as you cried out his name. he followed you over the edge moments later, his warm cum pumping into you in spurts, leaking out on the sides of his cock.
he pressed a soft, almost tender kiss to one of your ass cheeks, a stark contrast to the brutal fucking he'd just given you. you felt the bed shift as he moved, and then the sudden, empty feeling as he pulled out. a moment later, you felt the warm, sticky evidence of his release begin to trickle down your inner thigh.
and then it hit you. a jolt of cold, sobering reality that cut through the post-orgasmic haze.
"bobby," you said, your voice flat as you collapsed onto your side, pulling a pillow against your chest. "you didn't use a condom."
he looked back at you, "hey," he said, shrugging as he grabbed his pajama pants from the floor. "you were the one who got all horny and demanding. 'shove your dick in me,' i believe were your exact words. what was i supposed to do? say no?"
the sheer audacity of it made you sit up, clutching the sheet to your chest.
"i was supposed to say no? you're the one who forgot! god, you're such an asshole," you snapped, the anger warring with the lingering pleasure still humming through your veins. "now i have to go get a plan b."
"alright, alright, calm down," he said, his tone dismissive as he pulled his pants back on, not even bothering with underwear. he stood up, running a hand through his messy hair. "i'll go get you one."
he disappeared into the bathroom, and you heard the sound of the faucet running. you laid back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the anger slowly deflating into a weary resignation. a few minutes later, he returned with a warm, wet rag.
he sat on the edge of the bed, his touch surprisingly gentle as he carefully cleaned you up, wiping away the sticky mess between your thighs. he didn't say anything, just focused on his task, his brow furrowed in concentration.
when he was done, he tossed the rag toward the hamper.
"no, i'll go, i think we have one in the medicine cabinet" you said, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. you needed the air. you needed a moment away from him and his infuriatingly casual attitude toward potentially life-altering consequences.
"hurry back."
you got up, pulling on the oversized t-shirt and a pair of your own underwear that had been discarded on the floor.
you padded out of the bedroom and over to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen, pulling open the doors and rummaging through the different medicine boxes. nothing.
speaking as kindly as possible: i think many viewers of the pitt would benefit from internalizing the fact that being jewish does not cancel out a white person's capacity for being racist
speaking frankly: i think the antisemitism invocations are just the latest in a long line of ways that white people have used accusations of bigotry to derail conversations about race, as has been done by white women, white queer people, white neurodivergent people, etc while ignoring the racism and colorism that is active in the very marginalized group they are referring to. and trying to derail the conversation in this way is a racist act in itself that stems from the belief that experiencing oppression because of one facet of your identity distances you from your whiteness which is not how marginalization works. my final words. gootbye
trinity santos: gives a homeless guy she's known for 15 hours a place to stay and then covers his share of the rent for 10 months while he finishes school, consistently worries he'll be taken advantage of because he's a nice guy never mind the fact she's literally letting him live with her rent free, identifies and scares the shit out of a child molester where the system is otherwise failing, talks a stranger who attempted to end his life into seeking help, doggedly pursues a potential child abuse case and when she's wrong accepts it without pushback and turns her attention to treatment and being a good doctor, turns away from her charting that's stressing her out to go comfort a friend who lost a patient, invites mel out to do a stress relieving activity after what she sees is an incredibly taxing day, etc etc etc
some random tiktok commenter always: oh my god i can't stand santos she's so mean to everyone
yâall only like night shift because their flaws have been exclusively implied in very missable throw away lines (and towards people yâall donât sympathize with anyway).
ellis told trinity nobody gave a shit how tired, traumatized, or exhausted she was when trinity was on the fourteenth hour of her twelve hour shift. a season of that, to more universally sympathetic characters, will NOT be palatable to a lot of gen z. ellis doesnât care if junior residents are overworked, she doesnât coddle or encourage. she is a tough love, âput me in coach,â rub some dirt on it kind of person, and the gen z viewership will become overly critical of her life philosophy that demands a lot of grit.
jack is not the woke guy everyone projects him to be. i believe they kept him far away from the ICE episode because the writers had no truly satisfying answer to how jackâs character would act in that situation. this man participated in imperialism for free college and healthcare (or for valor which is even worse). he continues to listen to police scanners and joins SWAT. he is on the side of the establishment as it relates to exerting force. he may have unpacked some conservative values, but there will be nuance there that will make black and white thinkers very uncomfortable.
the night shift doctors characterization is much less developed, but the seeds of complexity are there. ellis hates whining, shen is largely emotionally removed from any patient outcomes, jack is a mess of contradictions. people just canât pick up on that because they watch the show while scrolling through their phone.
you. donât. want. night. shift. you want to know less about the characters so you can continue to project your values onto them.
Or some of this fandom can participate in something called critical thinking. (not that the majority can) The viewership of the night shift spinoff would likely be other fellow night shifters.
I personally want a night shift season bc I see myself and my coworkers in the glimpses of Ellis, Shen and Abbot, etc
We're crude, uncensored, and jaded. We exist in the limbo of time in which the rest of the world doesn't want to acknowledge.
We've regularly fucked over and discarded but also expected to keep shit from burning down.
We're burnt out and tired but we commiserate and make shitty jokes and cope in our unhealthy ways to keep going.
I'm just so sick and tired of this narrative that no one wants night shift when people do. The original thought behind The Pitt was to shine a light on healthcare and glimpse behind the curtain to see these representations of real life. But now we're deciding that "nah we don't need that"
Especially feels targeted when night shift seems notably more diverse than day shift but yall ain't ready for that conversation
jfc istg "who works night shift mothers" so ofc you wouldn't want to see that...
Not to mention as a nightshifter "its a lot more boring" don't talk shit when you're not about it. Night Shift works and gets all the critical shit that people can't wait until "normal hours" to come in for. Drunk drivers, bar fights, people falling asleep at the wheel, etc. More traumas. More extremely sick people.
