taking screenshots while on ft with sugar daddy!jack abbot to show ur friends who ur yachting for. telling him, oh my friend asked for your number, she said sheād be a sugar baby for you too! while giggling, curled up in his crisp white sheets, right at his side despite him having a california king. he just roll his eyesāhis smirk doesnāt go unnoticed thoughāwhile his glasses sit on the tip of his nose, playing solitaire on his phone. āgive her robbyās number, iām closed off,ā he mutters, taking just a second away from his game to reach over and smack your ass, making you squeal on purpose. āgot my hands full already, donāt want anyone else, babyā
I need Titus to call me his little bunny whilst I ride him so eagerly. Just whimpering and whining as it just isnāt the same when he is bullying his thick cock into me, making me scream for him.
If anyone has any really good smutty Titus fan fics, please let me knowww
I need Titus to call me his little bunny whilst I ride him so eagerly. Just whimpering and whining as it just isnāt the same when he is bullying his thick cock into me, making me scream for him.
If anyone has any really good smutty Titus fan fics, please let me knowww
Warning mdni- smut, Dom Titus, little chasing through the property, reader who fights back because we all know Titus loves it. Pain kink Titus, choking, bunny nickname for reader.
No smut in this one but is implied kinda.
It was supposed to be a regular Saturday, Titus's one day off In weeks. He woke up alone to find reader in the kitchen making breakfast. At first it was avoiding his touch and kisses. And well it escalated from there. Between sarcastic remarks and bratty answers.
You'd been riling him up all day. It'd been weeks since you and Titus actually fucked. And yeah maybe you were provoking him and at first he thought maybe he missed something.butbhe was sure it wasn't your birthday or your anniversary.
But 6 o clock hit and you found yourself laying in the middle of the golf course. God your head was killing you. You could feel the cold air hit your body. Of course he had you stripped down to you dark red lingerie (his favourite lace one).
You could see him in the distance, you knew what this was. So you took off running into the forest of the Danforth estate. You knew Titus loved the chase you could see it everytime there was a hunt. He'd mentioned before "the thrill of the chase".
You had been good. he'd give you that swerving through trees and that little river stream trying to fool him in a different direction and yeah for a minute he believed it before you'd made the dumb mistake of falling over a tree branch. Which had him on you in seconds. You fought let him think he got the upper hand before hitting him with the thick branch just enough to buy you a few mins.
You managed to make it as far as the resort making your way up. Titus had managed to catch up to you on the second floor. God you hated these stupid stairs sure you could have taken the elevator but where was the fun in that right.
Titus crashed through the resort hallway, boots heavy, breath controlled but furious.His eyes locked onto you the second you rounded the corner of the second-floor corridor.
No words.
Just hunting.
And damn if that didnāt send a thrill through your spine. Because this? This was exactly what he lived for, the chase ending in capture. You being his prize after a hard fight. The adrenaline still pumping, muscles tense from running and fighting.
And now? Now he had you cornered near one of those stupidly luxurious hotel rooms,gold trim on doors, soft carpets muffling footsteps.
He didnāt speak not yet, just strode forward with slow, deliberate steps,like a predator who knew their prey couldn't escape
The pressure around your throat was firm, controlled, but unyielding. Titus didnāt squeeze hard enough to cut off air completely.
No, that wasn't his goal.
But the message was clear. You cheated. And he hated cheating in the hunt. Especially from you, his little bunny, who usually played fair with gentle dodges and teasing glances instead of swinging branches like a fighter.
His dark eyes burned into yours,not just angry, butā¦ betrayed? Like youād broken some sacred rule between hunter and prey.Still silent. Still towering over you as he backed you against the wall beside one of those stupidly fancy resort doors
One hand pinned your neck.
The other gripped your hip,hard to keep you from moving, Titusā voice was low dangerously low. The kind of tone that didnāt raise, but cut through the air like a blade. And when he finally spoke? It wasn't soft or gentle. It was rough with controlled anger and something darker. disappointment.
"Youā¦ cheated."
Each word slow.
Pronounced.
Heavy with meaning.
He never raised his voice at you,but this quiet intensity was worse. Like every syllable weighed on your chest.Still holding your throat, still caging you against the wall he leaned in closer until his forehead nearly touched yours.
Then came another line, cold which he rarely ever was with you.
"That branchā¦ wasn't part of the game."
"I did not! Can't cheat if there was no rules to begin with" she sassed back at him looking up at his tall beefy frame.
Titusās jaw tightened. That sass that fucking sasswas the last thing he expected. And it pissed him off. His grip on your throat didnāt tighten, but his expression darkened like a storm rolling in.
For a long second, he just stared at you,those cold grey eyes narrowing slightly behind the weight of his rage. Then, Without warning, he slammed you harder against the wall. Not enough to hurt seriously, but with force. A clear message. "I am not playing."
And then came another low growl from deep in his chest:
"Oh I'm sorry Mr Danforth did I hurt your feelings" she said with a pout before kneeing him and making a break for it. for a second he couldnt help the smile that crept onto his face. so maybe you did have more fight then you'd been letting on cause yeah, Titus loved a little pain with his pleasure and the whole point in this was to catch her so they could have sex after weeks.
"There are always rules."
The knee hit him square in the gut hard. Titus grunted, doubling slightly from the impact. Not injured. Not even winded for long. But surprised. And that pout? That sarcastic "Oh I'm sorry Mr Danforth?" with all that fake sweetness?
It wasā¦ adorable. Infuriating. And well Sexy as hell.
For half a second, his lips twitched upward,an almost smile he couldnāt stop if he tried. Because damn itā¦ youād just shown more fight than usual
And Titus?
He loved this version of you, the one who fought back instead of submitting right away. So when you turned and bolted down the hallway toward the stairsā¦
He didn't chase immediately. No.
He let out a slow breath
Straightened up
Then smirked fully for once and gave chase.
But this time she didn't take the stairs, no she was debating it quick to get in the elevator and it closing just as Titus reached it and he swore he saw her flash that stupid smile.
The elevator doors slid shut right in his face. He stood frozen for a split second, hand half-raised like he couldāve stopped it if heād been faster. But no.
Sheād timed it perfectly,dashing into the elevator just as he rounded the corner, hitting the close button before his long legs could catch up
And obviously he saw that smile.
That smug, victorious little smirk she flashed him through the closing gap the one that said. "It's going to be me who gets you" (iykyk)
It was infuriating, Adorable and Frustratingly hot. His jaw clenched again but this time? Not from anger at cheating, no but from pure arousal. Because you werenāt running scared or crying you were playing smart, winning small battles and making him work for you
So without hesitation?
Titus turned on his heel, and sprinted toward the stairwell.
When he reached the top floor which was the penthouse apartment. The one Titus had been staying at recently to get out of the estate. He knew he was gonna find her there, because when he finally made it, there she was still in the dark red lingerie he'd put her in leaning back against the door, her arms crossed like it was an inconvenience to be waiting this long.
"took you long enough"
TBC- lmk what you guys think of if you guys have any suggestions for part 2
Pervy!Titus who obsessively watches you like a hawk. Watching your every move. Who you interact with.
Pervy!Titus who is obsessively protective of you. He will kill for you.
Pervy!Titus who practically eye fucks you. He looks forward to ripping your pretty dress off of you when youāre alone.
Pervy!Titus who canāt keep his hands to himself. His will always find a way to touch you in public. Whether he āaccidentallyā gropes your ass when no oneās looking. Or his hands find their way under your dress at the table during a family dinner. He also presses his hard cock against your ass purposely teasing you as he passes. He gets so hard that you can still feel him through his trousers.
Pervy!Titus who is possessive and loves to mark you. He admires his handy work afterwards.
Pervy!Titus who makes you strip, and touch yourself so he can watch.
Pervy!Titus who fucks you hard. Hand on your throat as he fucks you. Hands gripping your thighs leaving bruises. Roughly squeezing and sucking your breasts also leaving bruises.
Pervy!Titus who fucks you in his car.
Pervy!Titus who drags you off to the bathroom to fuck you at a family or business gathering.
Pervy!Titus who fingers you under the table.
Pervy!Titus who loves to eat you out any chance he gets.
Pervy!Titus who will pull you close after rough sex. He becomes surprisingly soft, while still whispering āmineā in your ear.
šŖ½ā pervy!abbot whoās getting distracted during a swat emergency..
The middle of what was supposed to be a routine sweep was interrupted by what you had initially thought was the worldās worst leg cramp. You quickly realized what was *actually* happening, right before hitting the ground, hard. It felt like a someone was taking a pickaxe to your leg over and over again. Your nerves lit up, and the only somewhat soothing feeling at this point was the warm gushes of blood heating your upper thighs while you slowly bled. You raspily yelped, and Jack ran over faster than youād ever see him run.
āWhere? What happened?ā his voice was so soft and gentle. You hadnāt really heard him speak much, nor had time to talk to him. He picked up shifts here and there but he wasnāt a permanent member of swat or anything, and on top of that he usually picked up day missions, while you had preferred the ones during the night. And you still did; because ironically the one time you pick up a day sweep you get shot.
You pointed to your leg, and his heart dropped. A bullet to the upper thigh; immediately he clocked the possibility of a thousand medical scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. He didnāt waste time cutting your clothes off, and working out a way to get a tourniquet to aid the concerning amount of blood coming out of you.
Jack felt insane. Normally he was able to get right along with medical procedures, especially emergencies considering thatās literally his job. But he was moving so slow. His brain felt jumbled. It only got worse when he started cutting your clothes off and revealing that cute little pair of panties you had on. Fuck. Heād probably have to cut those off too, which felt evil in this situation because of how badly he wanted to do it. It wasnāt even his fault, with you making all those cute little sounds and remarks.
āJ-Jack ah- fuck it- it.. really.. hurts.ā You whispered, biting back tears in the squeakiest, cutest little voice heād ever heard. Every time he tightened the tourniquet you let out a cute little yelp. Could you even blame him?
He quickly pulled himself together, realizing how fucked up this behavior was and getting back to work. Checking for any other injuries before quickly shifting full attention back to the fact you were likely internally bleeding.
āHey.. i gotta put some pressure on this. Youāre gonna feel a lot of pain, but I have to do this. Ok?ā His demeanor was calm, but his face told a different story. This is how you figured out it was bad. You tried to sit up a bit and look before feeling his hand on your chest guiding you back to the floor.
āAh-Ah eyes on me. Itās not too bad, donāt worry. I gotcha, yea?ā He whispered before finally applying that pressure he was talking about, causing you to immediately scream and grab his arms.
His arms. Oh wow. He was wearing long sleeves and had you wishing he wasnāt. One of his hands softly grabbed yours and took it off his arms.
āDoing so good.. shh. Gonna get u help, just lay down.ā He cooed, gently putting your hand down and shushing you.
He did his best to stabilize you, stop all that squirming. Once he got the bleeding to slow he firmly grasped your waist, keeping you in one spot. Jack softly cooed to you and tried to keep you calm until first responders got to the scene.
okay but what about reader finding out not long after that Sammy was being oh so casual to his buddies and calling her a badge bunny and maybe sheās kinda upset/offended so she pulls back a bit and starts treating it casually too and Sammy just loses his mind heās so upset he just wants to be her hubby but the dumb boy machoism won out in front of his bros ://
ohh the angst i love it. continuing on this thought
Was it a dumb idea to show up at the police station when you had zero clue if Sammy was even there or not? Yes, very. You are just hoping he isnāt off on patrol as you walk in, home made paper bagged lunch in one hand and crossing your fingers with the other. You missed your new boyfriend badly and after his reaction to the very first meal you cooked him, you were excited to surprise on his break.Ā
That excitement dies just as quick as it came however as you hear your name and the words badge bunny right after coming out of one of the other officers mouths. āHowās it going with her? Still hitting that?ā Sherman asks him and you canāt recognize the Sammy who responds.Ā
āPretty good, still casual and shit canāt keep the girl off meā Sammy laughs and shakes his head. āStayed over at herās the other night, barely let me leave the bedā he boasts, a smirk on his face that makes your stomach turn. āThatās what happens with those damn badge bunniesā another of his friends comments, Sammy un knowingly digging himself into a deeper ditch ā āWhy do you think I'm not takinā it seriously?ā If only Sammy turned around he would see the baffled and hurt look on your face, your eyes stinging as tears beginning to build. Squeezing the fragile paper bag in your hand so hard you donāt know how it doesnāt rip as you spin on your heel and practically book it out of the station.Ā
Sammy isnāt dumb he notices the difference in your demeanor. You avoid his kisses goodbye by turning your cheek to him, he has yet to spend another night at yours, you donāt even call him baby anymore. He thought making things official with you finally would mean he got prompted from being called his name but it seems thatās all you call him anymore. The worst part is you make him wear a condom again when the two of you have sex, he begged a pathetic amount after your first time together for you to let him ditch it. He doesnāt mind so much that the times you and him fuck has lessened sense becoming boyfriend and girlfriend he could care less about that. He just hates not being able to feel you anymore, the warmth of you. In both ways, youāve stopped clinging to him after sex, you just roll over and mumble out that you have work early the next morning and if he can lock the door on his way out. He knows some nights even that it's a damn lie and he canāt say a word about it cause thatād be admitting that he has your schedule pathetically memorized and he knows what days you typically have off.Ā
He is not above grovelling but he canāt do that when he is so clueless as to whatās wrong, you simply tell him nothing with a pinched smile when he asks. The response only makes the ache in his chest grow and grow. He is miserable the more days pass and the further you push away from him, itās noticeable to everyone around him. āWhat not getting any from your little badge bunny bryant?ā sherman questions and before Sammy can put on the stupid mask he does at work Ben continues, āThought you couldnāt shake her, especially after she apparently stopped by with lunch or something for you weeks agoāĀ
Bile rises in Sammyās throat at his partner's words. Oh no, oh fuck!
not proofread and sorry for the lowkey cringey dialogue from sammyās friends. anyway i really need to write / work on my longer wips but i also need to sleep cause iām going to the lake tm.
why tf did you add that gif of him sucking sauce off this thumbā¦. because now im imagining his ass doing that after going down on you for what feels like ages and he just abruptly gets up to take a phone call, walking away plainly licking up fingers (that were just berating you) like he just ate wings šššš
Oops sorryyyy did u mean this gif? hehe well it felt rude not to show him finishing off his meal anon...
mmm just the idea of Pope having you under him, maybe he's got you pinned on your bed or on the couch, on his knees with his face between your thighs just going at it. He always seems so desperate for a taste of his sweet girl, too, fingers dug into the fat of your hips, kneading or squeezing, mouth buried between your lips as he eats you out like he's just starved for it. Grunting and groaning cause he's so lost (in the sauce), spurred on by your keens and squeals and the way you pull at his red curls.
I feel like he'd really like fucking with your clit, starts by licking at it with the broad of his tongue before outright suckling, flicking, spelling his name out over and over until you gush and he gets to lap you up. Always makes so much noise too he's got no manners.
And honestly he'd forget his phone entirely when he's so clearly busy, but the last time he got distracted by your pretty pussy he was down there forever and got chewed out by Smurf for ignoring her. Even after he'll only answer if it's family, and makes sure to grumble and scoff for being pulled away from his favorite hobby ever, sucking the fingers that were just scissoring you open clean (see gif), phone to his ear talking bout "Make it quick, i'm in the middle of somethin',"
Been thinking about Titus x reader, where reader is just as crazy as him. For months she's been doing everything she can to get involved with the danforths just to have an excuse to prosue him.
So after finally getting close enough or at least as much as she could get to him tolerating her. The hunt with grace happens and instead of the ending we got. Reader finds a loophole to which she joins half way through taking out the competition. But when grace proposes to Titus to save herself and her sister. Reader can't have that Titus is supposed to be hers. She's worked so hard just for it to get taken from her.
And well reader takes care of it. She hadn't even thought about the ring or the high seat. Because hearing Titus about to swear to mr le bail that he won't kill her or her sister. Well that wasn't gonna happen was it. And once Titus sees grace clutch her chest and go down. Titus is obviously fuming cause to him that was his birthright.
*Titus was going to kill her he had her pinned to the wall by her throat.*
"can't kill me I'm high council now. Guess that just means you'll have to marry me"
Contains; slow burn romance, alcohol mention, f masturbation, f orgasm
Thank you so, so much for being so lovely and supportive about this fic! I had so much fun writing it and I've really enjoyed writing Part 2. I hope it lives up to Part 1 š
'Just one more thing,' you pleaded, giving Pope your best puppy dog eyes. 'Just one more.'
How could he say no?
Pope had enjoyed being your fake boyfriend so much. It hurt a lot, in some ways. It wasn't real, for one. All he wanted was to call you his girlfriend. To make you his own and give you everything.
The night hadn't ended how a boyfriend would drop off his girlfriend. The faux relationship obviously didn't extend past your parents' front lawn. There had been a moment of charged silence as Pope's truck sat idling outside your apartment block. For one brief second, Pope thought you might kiss him. His heart banged out of his chest so hard he thought you might hear it.
You had looked into his eyes and the tension was thick enough to feel like fog. But you had just smiled, touched his hand briefly, and left. The outline of your fingers scorched Pope's skin like a burn.
Finally, it hurt because you almost saw his orgasm face. You had spent a good forty minutes grinding against. Some of it may have been unintentional; it certainly started innocent.
You knew after a while. Pope knows you did. He felt you grinding up against his jeans, trying to press your seam along his length.
It had been painfully hard not to take hold of your hips and rub you along him like a doll until you gushed over his lap and his cock stuttered in his jeans.
But that wouldn't have been very family-friendly.
Plus, you were his friend. He shouldn't be thinking about you in that way... especially not when he lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He shouldn't have started to moan when he was seconds away from cumming in his pants.
His erection hadn't gone down. When it became too uncomfortable and wore down Pope's restraint, he had fucked up into his fist before spilling down his hips and balls, splattering on his stomach. The relief was palpable.
The edging had been almost too much to take.
'What is it?' Pope mumbled, absent-mindedly brushing a soft curl behind your ear. He realised what he was doing and dropped his hand fast, clenching and unclenching his fist by his side.
'Birthday drinks with my cousin before she leaves for college.'
'Okaaay...' Pope waited for the catch.
You gave him a nervous smile, which did nothing to reassure him whatsoever.
'What?' Pope furrowed his brows. He lifted his hand to play with your hair again and caught himself.
'Erm...'
Pope waited patiently as you thought of the best way to sell it. Eventually you settled with just saying it.
'... it's at Deran's bar.'
Fuck.
Pope's brothers were all nice to you, in that distant, crime-family kind of way.
You were happy with that.
But you knew Pope wanted to keep you as separate as possible from that part of his life.
But these drinks were happening, and they were happening at Deran's, whether Pope was there to support / supervise you or not.
The cousin turned out to be Janie; the one who had fluttered her eyelashes at Pope at the family party.
Pope felt uncomfortable but knew he wouldn't be spending much time with her.
As he held the door open for you and followed you in, the room instantly swallowed you up.
It was dark and loud. More people than you imagined filled the space, which smelled like beer and cigarettes.
Pope put a protective arm around your shoulders as you looked through the crowd. Spotting Janie, you tugged on his shirt. Pope let you lead him over to their table.
He shot a quick glance over at the bar.
Deran was pouring a pint. He must have felt eyes on him because he looked up, making direct eye contact with Pope.
His expression didn't change until he noticed Pope's arm around your shoulder. Deran just raised one quizzical eyebrow at him.
Pope gave a slight shake of his head and carried on following you.
'Janie!' You smiled, and the pretty blonde stood to give you a hug. She looked past you to Pope, who was now linking fingers with you.
You watched in horror as her pupils dilated. 'Andrew!' She leaned past you to curl herself under Pope's flanneled arm, squeezing his chest a bit tighter than necessary.
You felt your heart miss a beat.
Pope didn't like physical contact. Not unless it was with you.
He visibly flinched, which Janie happily didn't notice. Pope moved to stand closer next to you.
Undeterred, Janie flashed you a mischievous smile.
'Shots.'
It wasn't a question.
As she pushed her way through the crowd towards Deran, you looked at the large round table in the middle of the group.
You didn't really know anyone; they were all Janie's friends.
You smiled politely and they returned the favour, continuing their conversation pre arrival.
You settled in to the side opposite Janie's bags, and Pope sat down beside you.
His thick thigh, clad in denim, was warm as it pressed against your own.
You turned to him to smile.
Your breath caught. You could never quite get over just how beautiful Pope was.
Even in his discomfort, his face was glowing in the semi-dark. His sculpted jaw was clean shaven, covered in freckles. Pope was making an effort to appear at ease but you knew him well enough to spot the tension in his shoulders.
Pope could never fully relax. His biceps were always flexed and his eyes continually scanned the room, as if looking out for potential threats.
Pope turned to meet your eyes. As you looked into him, they visibly softened, the way they only ever did with you. He offered you a gentle sideways smile.
You felt your insides turn to slush.
'You look beautiful,' Andrew murmured. His mouth barely moved around the words, and his eyes flicked between each of yours.
Your faces must have been inches apart.
'Sho-oooots!' Janie sang. She brought over a beer each for you and Pope, and a tray full of clear shot glasses.
Your stomach turned looking at them.
'How many did you get?' You laughed.
'Oh,' Janie said, looking down at them in concentration. 'Three each.'
'Three???' You exploded.
'Well, it is a party,' Janie shrugged.
Pope rested a large hand on your bare thigh, just below the hem of your dress.
'You don't need to have them if you don't want to,' he whispered, jaw twitching.
'Erm.... yes, she does.' Janie shook her head, holding out a shot glass past Pope and to you.
Pope searched your face again for any signs of discomfort.
'No, you really don't,' Pope's rough voice was inches from your ear, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.
'Alright, Dad. Let her choose for herself.'
You took the shot glass from Janie, who looked gleeful.
'I'm not doing three,' you said firmly, 'but... I might do two.'
'Atta girl!' Janie beamed. 'Cheers!'
Everyone held their drinks in the air before downing them.
Before you'd even finished your first, you watched three empty glasses hit the table in front of Pope.
'Jesus,' you whispered, awed.
Pope shrugged, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. You were impressed his face didn't even wince at the burn you felt halfway through your first.
You picked up your second, and Pope's fingers hovered above yours for a moment.
He looked into your eyes, questioning, before pulling them away.
You thought it was sweet. It didn't feel controlling but concerned. You liked Pope feeling protective over you more than you should.
You took the second one and pulled a face. Pope gave you his half-smile, amused.
'We're not all built the same,' you teased. You could feel the burn settling in your lower tummy.
Pope's eyes slowly looked you up and down. 'No,' he agreed. 'You're not.'
'So, what's the deal?' Deran asked as he poured yours and Pope's second pints.
'What do you mean?' You asked.
Deran pulled a face at you. His piercing blue eyes didn't leave a lot of wriggle room.
'You know exactly what I mean.'
You gave a self-conscious half laugh. 'We're just friends.'
Deran placed your pints down on the counter, shaking his head and waving away your bills to indicate a free round.
'That's not what your cousin said.' Deran looked pointedly at you.
'Ohhh.' It dawned on you. 'No, he's just pretending.'
Deran looked at you like you had grown two heads. 'Riiiiight, right. Just "pretending".'
You shook your head, not wanting to give Deran the wrong impression, and unsure as to what Pope had said to him about you.
'We are,' you repeated. 'He's just helping me out with something.'
'Oh, he'd love to help you out of something,' Deran mumbled, looking down at the counter below the bar and wiping at nothing.
'What was that?' You asked.
'Hmm?' Deran looked up at you with a faux innocent face.
'Shut up, Deran,' you laughed.
'No, you shut up.'
You scoffed, picking up your drinks and turning away.
'Pretending is not the same as denial!' He shouted after you.
Pope had been watching you the whole time, making sure no one had stood too close or bothered you. He shifted up and patted the seat next to him.
As soon as you sat, Pope seemed to visibly relax a little. He opened his arm to lean against the booth behind your shoulders. You lay back in the seat, the back of your head resting against his arm.
Pope immediately moved the angle of his forearm to make it more comfortable for you, despite it twisting at an awkward angle for him.
'Andrew,' you whispered, looking up at him.
'Yeah?' Pope replied, looking down at your face.
You focused in on his mouth. The perfect cupids bow framed a full lower lip. You watched at a sliver of tongue rolled over it subconsciously, followed by a bite.
Something inside you keened.
'Yeah?' Pope prompted, searching your face, concerned. 'Are you okay?'
'Yeah,' you replied dreamily. You were a bit fuzzy from the alcohol and the world was softened at the edges like a vignette.
'Good,' Pope murmured, gently touching your face. 'I'm okay, too.'
'So, ANDREW,' Janie interrupted, a little louder than necessary.
'Yes?' Pope answered her, his eyes not leaving yours for a single second.
The world seemed to have narrowed down to just the two of you.
You could feel your heartbeat in your mouth.
'How often do you work out?' Janie asked. The shots had obviously made her brave, as she reached out and squeezed his bicep.
Yours and Pope's eyes both followed her arm down to where her hand rested on his sleeve.
Janie didn't seem to notice.
'You always look really built.'
You felt sick. You hated Janie touching him, even though you had no claim over him whatsoever... and as far as she knew, Pope was your boyfriend.
'You've met him twice,' you scoffed. 'How is that always?'
Janie looked at you like you were mad.
'Yes, I've seen him twice, and he's looked built twice. That's always.'
Your mouth hung open at her drunk logic. You were well aware her hand was still on Pope's arm.
Pope looked incredibly uncomfortable but unsure of his next move. He didn't want to go with his gut instinct and risk upsetting you by upsetting Janie.
'Can you stop manhandling my boyfriend, please?' Your voice was steady but inside you were shaking. Janie was a pretty girl; it was easy to imagine Pope finding her attractive.
'You saaaay that,' Janie looked at you suspiciously. Your eyes zeroed in on her hand. You could hear the blood woosh in your ears.
'I do say that.' You were starting to get annoyed.
'Yes, you say that, buuu-ut,' Janie wiggled her perfectly-kept eyebrows at you, 'I've never even seen you guys kiss.'
Your breath caught and you felt Pope stiffen beside you. He gently pulled his arm out of Janie's grasp.
'W-what?' You spluttered, unsure of how to possibly answer that.
'We're just not into PDA,' Pope's rough voice rumbled in her general direction.
'Well, I am,' Janie winked suggestively.
You couldn't bear it. The secondhand embarrassment alone, but the fact she was hitting on Pope so damn hard, right in front of you, made you want to be sick.
A primal need for possession kicked in.
Pope turned to you then. His hazel eyes were ablaze.
You couldn't breathe.
He slowly placed a hand on your jaw and gently cradled it. He began to lean down and in.
Your heart was thumping. There was no bar, no crowd, no Janie. Everything else faded into nothing. There was only you and Pope suspended in the in-between; the liminal space about to mark a before and after your kiss.
You could smell the woody cologne on his neck warmed on his neck and his soft laundry detergent. Pope's thigh was still pressed against you, warm and solid.
He gave you every opportunity to run. You didn't.
Pope's face came closer still, until you were inches apart.
Pope closed his eyes for a second, hesitating, savouring the moment.
'Andrew,' you breathed against his mouth. Your lips ghosted against his.
Pope opened his eyes at the whisper of his name, and a soft half-smile tilted the side of his lips against yours... and then he was kissing you.
All your nerve endings sparkled shooting stars across your body.
The kiss was gentle; almost innocent. His lips barely gave any pressure against yours. You moved your head to the side and opened your mouth slightly.
A soft sound escaped the back of Pope's throat, which you lightly swallowed.
Pope's mouth moved on yours with all the magic of a first kiss.
As Pope's lips opened, you kissed a little harder. Your hand found its way to the back of his neck and pulled him closer.
Pope's fingers traced up your throat, setting you alight.
They settled under your jaw again.
The kisses became less public-friendly; open-mouthed which began as soon as the previous one ended.
Your fingers scrunched against Pope's curls and he gave you a soft sigh of relief.
You couldn't believe this was actually happening.
'Alright...' Janie's voice was disjointed, somewhere in the hushed chaos of the background. 'You don't have to be gross about it.'
When you finally pulled away, Pope's eyes were glittering dangerously.
Your fingers threaded through his.
You couldn't look away from him. Your intertwined fingers fell under the table and onto Pope's thigh.
He coughed quietly and shuffled your hands as your knuckles scraped against his jeans.
Your eyes flicked down and you saw how swollen his cock was, straining against his jeans.
'I'm s-sorry.' Pope suddenly looked very shy and vulnerable.
'I'm not,' you gave him a quick kiss on the lips before standing. 'Let's go.'
'What?' Pope asked confused, and still a little dazed from the kiss.
'What?' Janie spat
'Have fun in Cleveland!' You waved, tugging on Pope's hand to follow you.
'Conneticut!'
'Whatever!'
Deran caught your eye as you were leaving and a smug smile spread across his face. 'Just friends, my ass!'
Pope walked you backwards and pressed you up against your door. His hands were running all over you, down your sides and across your back.
These kisses were more urgent. Pope had only needed to look at your mouth for a second. You felt yourself get shamefully wet as you pulled his face closer to yours.
Pope squeezed you tight to him then and kissed you with a ferocity you'd only ever dreamed of.
You fought with the keys in your hand without breaking the kiss, desperate to get him inside.
You turned quickly to unlock the door and Pope's hands dropped reluctantly from you. As soon as the door was open, he was walking you backwards again into the dark hallway. Pope only just cleared the doorway before he kicked the door closed behind him with his boot.
You couldn't stand it anymore. The accumulation of years of wanting, and the thick sexual tension from the previous week, made you desperately hungry for him.
You looked at each other for a second. You were both breathing heavily and wanted to savour the moment before it happened. The anticipation of what you both knew was coming.
Then you were on each other again. You started to tug off his flannel overshoot, pulling the sleeves impatiently down his arms and letting it fall to the floor at your feet.
Pope kicked his boots off, one after the other. The left one went flying and smacked against the wall. You turned to let Pope unzip your dress.
You weren't going to make it to the bedroom.
Pope pulled the zipper down slowly as you bent slightly against the wall. The cold metal teeth sent shivers up your spine. You tried to control your trembling. Once it was completely undone, you turned back to face him before allowing it to fall to the floor.
Pope followed it down as it pooled at your feet, eyes turning black. Everything he so badly craved was standing right in front of him.
You pulled his black tee up from the bottom, slowly revealing sculpted abs then pecs. Pope finished tugging it over his head; auburn hair curling under his arms.
You felt faint.
Looking down, you saw the defined V shape of his hips. A soft trail of hair stretched from his belly button and disappeared down beneath his jeans.
You couldn't hold back a soft moan as you started to tug at his pants. Pope let you undo his belt and the top button of his jeans, before taking over to push them down over his thick, hairy thighs.
You gave a sharp inhale. Beneath Pope's boxers was an incredibly large erection.
His cock looked even bigger than it had felt beneath you as you rode against it during your parents' anniversary party. (Jesus, that sounded terrible).
There was nothing fake about this.
'Come here,' Pope whispered, pulling you down onto the couch so you were lying next to him. Pope pulled your body flush to him and kissed along your jaw, pausing to suck softly at the sensitive spot beneath your ear. You let out a moan, and Pope felt a thrill run through him from teasing that sound from you.
He kissed all down your throat, raising all the hairs on your body, before hesitating above your breasts.
'Is this okay?' Pope mumbled, voice thick.
'Yesss,' you breathed.
Pope's mouth moved against you; kissing your breasts through the lacy fabric. His thick fingers searched behind you and unclipped your bra. It fell away after the snap, and Pope tossed it somewhere behind his head.
The apartment was still in darkness, with only the streetlights through the window illuminating the room. Slivers of soft golden light passed over his mussed auburn curls and his closed eyes. It added a dreamy haze to the intimacy.
Pope mouthed at your breasts, kissing each one before circling your nipple with a wet kiss. His hands reached down to grab the band of your panties and he tugged them down over your legs. He threw those in a completely different direction.
He pulled your leg so it hooked over his hip. Your mound was pressed against his thick erection and you moaned again.
Pope's tongue gently entered your mouth as your lips parted, and began to gently swirl in your mouth.
His hand was on on your hip, then your ass, then your hip again. He couldn't pull you close enough to his body. Now that he finally had you, he wanted to completely consume you.
Pope was completely wrecked. His fingers worked down between your bodies, completely undoing you.
'You'ee sure? I need you to say it for me.'
'I'm so su-' Pope finally touched you where you needed him.
'Fuuuck,' he groaned. 'You're so fucking wet.'
You whispered into his mouth. 'All for you.'
'All for me.' Pope repeated, almost testing the shape of the words.
'Touch me,' you begged. 'Please.'
Pope ran his fingers along you, beneath your folds. You felt your slick covering them.
'You'll have to tell me what you like,' he said softly. 'I don't want to do it wrong.'
Your heart panged.
'There's no way you can do it wrong,' you assured him. 'It's you. It feels so fucking good already.'
'Show me how you like to be fucked.' Pope's voice was liquid steel.
You pushed your hand down to hold his fingers and guided his index finger to your pussy entrance.
'Here,' you whispered.
'Okay,' Andrew nodded.
He slowly pushed his finger in, stretching you out. You moaned in relief as he finally entered you.
'Yeah?' Andrew asked, searching your face.
'Oh, yeahh,' you nodded, eyes closing. 'Please keep touching me.'
Pope audibly swallowed.
He slowly began to push and pull a thick finger into you. The tug of his knuckles against every inch of your insides was electric.
'Like this?' Pope's voice came out thick.
'Exactly like that.'
You felt almost full already but you were desperate for more.
'Please can I have another? Pleaseee.'
Pope added his middle finger and scissored them gently. You felt incredibly full of him.
'Oh my God,' you clutched onto his forearm. 'That feels so fucking good.'
Pope kissed you again; hungry and desperate.
The soft dragging of his fingers began to make obscenely loud squelching noises in a quiet room.
'Tell me where you need me.' Pope's voice cracked as he circled his fingers.
'There!' You cried out.
'Here?' Pope asked, rubbing against your warm, wet wall.
'Back a little,' you kissed the words into his mouth.
Pope slightly adjusted the angle of his wrist and curled the pads of his fingers until he touched just the right spot.
'There!' You cried out, 'right there, oh right fucking there.'
Pope growled and pressed against you, kissing you greedily.
Every thrust of his fingers punched against that spot. You felt the sensation of needing to pee building at the bottom of your tummy.
'I'm gonna cum,' you sighed, embarassed about being so close already.
'Yeah?' Pope breathed. 'Are you gonna cum all over my fingers?'
You felt your pussy flutter at that.
'Yeah,' you whispered. 'Andrew, you're gonna make me cum.'
Pope couldn't believe this was real, that he was going to make you cum from his massage. Everything he'd ever wanted was squeezing down on his fingers.
'Let me have it, beautiful girl.' Pope's fingers sped up a little. His gaze was focused as the rougher thrusts twisted your insides. 'Give in to me. It's gonna feel so good.'
'I'm gonna, oh I'm go- fuck am cu-'
Your orgasm set you on fire. Your back arched against him as your mouth opened in a wordless cry.
Pope used his elbow to keep your leg steady over his hip, and continued to fuck you with his fingers as you came.
'Good girl... oh good girl.'
Tiny spurts left you between each drag of his fingers. Not a lot. Not pornographic. But enough.
Pope kissed you throughout; messy, sloppy kisses. The twirling and licking of his tongue against yours, and the filthy increase of saliva sliding between your lips, only intensified the feeling.
Pope slowed his fingers, still twirling and scissoring them, his touch against your spot increasingly gentle.
'You're doing so good,' Pope's voice was wrecked; hair damp. 'You look so pretty like this.'
He didn't stop until you were shuddering and crying out his name in broken fragments. He slowly withdrew them and held them in front of his face with a stunned expression. His cock pulsed at the scent; mouth agape.
As you tried to control your breathing, you watched as Pope sucked on his fingers. His eyes closed for a second as he paused. He finally knew what you tasted like.
It was a deep, intimate kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue. How many times had you desperately tried to reach that spot, with fingers too short and slim, dreaming it was Pope instead?
Oxytocin flooded your brain and you felt dizzy with pleasure. You felt Pope's cock pressing insistenly against you. A thick smear of pre-cum was soaking through the fabric. You could see the outline of his bulging head.
'It's your turn to feel good,' you whispered, reaching down past his hips.
Pope caught your wrist gently, stopping you.
Your breathing was still heavy as you looked into his eyes, confused. His stunning hazel eyes, with the gold flecks and dilated pupils were so close to yours that you could count the freckles around them. It was simultaneously hard to look into them when they turned your world off its axis, but so hard to look away from when Pope was looking at you like that. His expression was all for you.
'If you touch me right now,' Pope groaned, 'I'm not gonna last.' His ears tinged pink.
'Oh, Andrew...' Something about that admission was so fucking hot.
'I haven't finished.' Pope guided your hand back up to his bare chest. 'I need to clean you up... and I desperately want to play with your clit.'
Your breath caught. Hearing Pope say the word 'clit' in front of you, and to be referring to yours, was completely undoing you.
'I need to know what you fully taste like,' Pope confessed. He lapped at the flat of your tongue with the tip of his own, before placing a kiss on your cheek. A contradiction in danger and sweetness.
'I'm going to eat you...' Pope's voice was wrecked, and it sounded more like a warning than a promise, '... and then I'm finally, finally, going to fuck you.'
Been daydreaming this week about waking up early/late before he goes on a job or meeting. And being all needy for him. So you end up kissing him all over especially near his ear which always gets him. As you ride him slow, and saying how much you love him so much. And he says not long cause he has to get ready.
"c'mon sweetheart, know you can faster can't you" he says as he's trying buck up into you, just for you not push himself hips back down.
"nuh uh. My pace Andy, supposed to be a good boy. Right?"
Just edging him and he knows 30 mins in that he's gonna be late and his brothers are gonna be mad that he's late. But god a part of him just wants to stay here. And for what feels like the 10 th time of her going all the way to his tip not letting him cum. He switches them around desperate-
Need my phone taken away too many ideas for one shots I can't writeeee
Stroking Pope's cock till heās all blushed and overstimulated and all he can say is āI love youā. Dragging your closed fist up and down the length of him, beading precum dribbling down your knuckles, watching his thighs tense against the mattress. His chest is heaving up and down, erratic breathes matching the uncontrollable stutter of his hips, desperate to fuck up into your palm. Your fingers are slick with spit and cum, lips pressed to the junction of his jaw, sputtering moans coming out wrecked from his trembling lips. His chest is a pinkish color, almost as deep a red as the tip of his cock which was desperate for the release you had been pulling him away from for the last half hour, always stilling your tight fist at the base of his cock whenever he started to twitch, his release endlessly delayed and denied by you. His sputtering had been pleading, desperate, lips parted in meek groans and whines as he fisted the sheets, hips driving up to meet your strokes, but they had fizzled out into weak whimpered words. āI love youāahāI love you so much, feels so goodāfuckāmmāplease, I love you, I love you, Iāaghāfuck, fuck,ā his tone breaks when you drag out his pleasure again, focusing on his tip and suckling on the underside of his jaw, āI love you so muchālove youāI loveāhngāah!ā
