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there is one reason and his name is andrew cody 😈
Hubby: "So, why are watching Animal Kingdom?"
My brain:
Me: "...No reason."
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rocco and rhett 🤝 the “i’m about to get laid” face
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Fanfic writers are like crows. If you give them treats (comments) they will bring you shiny things (fanfic)
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Rabbot | Euripides, from "Orestes", an Oresteia - Anne Carson
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……um…..breeding kink with knight steve????? my brain is on fire
contains: knight!steve, royal!reader, reader with a vagina, reader referred to as ‘princess’ and ‘your highness’, reader readers to themself as a common whore lol, the THEORY of breeding, cum play, loss of virginity. steve gets a lil rough in this one… need to see him be bitchy in his suit of armor so bad …
reader would exploit the hell out of this.
it takes ages to convince him to fuck you. it’s mutual masturbation only for several months because he’s justifiably afraid of losing his life. it’s forbidden to touch you, to treat you as anything other than the most precious and pure thing on earth.
you detest this, of course. but steve’s patience only lasts for so long. he’s between your thighs soon enough, that long, thick cock stretching you to the point of insanity. he’s not the easiest thing to take for your first time, but you adapt quickly enough - what with the several rounds you do every night in the dark of your bedchambers.
your suggestion is truly a slip of the tongue. and if he actually did it, it would end horribly for you both. it’s not even exciting to think of being caught.
in short, you don’t know why you say it, but you do.
“cum inside of me.”
steve’s eyes had been closed as he hovers above you. now, they’re wide, his pretty face pink, pupils blown. he’s so shocked that he can’t speak, his mouth opening and closing incessantly. you know he likes it, though. you can feel his cock pulsing and twitching inside of you.
“your highness,” he finally settles on. his voice cracks.
“i want to be with you,” you whisper, cupping his face in your hands. “want to be marked by you, only yours.”
your knight shakes his head, brown locks falling over his forehead. his throat bobs as he swallows.
“i — we — i cannot, princess, i….”
your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him in. he groans and begins to thrust again, though much slower than before. his brows knit together as he holds himself back.
“don’t you want to see it?” you breathe. you take one of his hands and place it over your stomach. “seeing me swollen with you?”
he says something so blasphemous that you gasp, and then he’s fucking you, moving harder and faster than he ever has before.
“don’t,” he grits. it’s the first time he’s ever sounded like a knight to you. the threat he implies with his tone makes you reel, your back arching as a long moan escapes your throat.
“you want to get me pregnant?” you push, desperately trying to stop your eyes from rolling back. “want to give me an heir?”
he groans and buries his head into the crook of your neck. you gasp at his speed, the force behind each push of his hips.
“stop,” he begs, his voice hoarse.
“y-you will,” you insist. “i am your princess, aren’t — aren’t i? you’re going to say no to me?”
he fucks you so hard that it hurts, and you revel in it. split open on him, your virginity taken, completely unholy underneath him.
“you’re filthy,” he says, voice forceful. he sounds like a knight again and it simply makes you more wet, more eager. “a princess sh-shouldn’t speak like this.”
you smile. “then i must be a c-common whore.”
steve’s voice strains. “it’d make this much. easier. if you were.”
“do it,” you press.
he grips your cheeks in one hand, thrusts landing harsh. your tits bounce in your night dress, skin shining with sweat. he looks down at you, face twisted in conflict, and then he smashes his lips against yours.
you’re thankful he does. each thrust lands harsh enough to fuck a shout out of your throat. he keeps your mouth occupied as his tongue licks against yours. your clit pulses, stomach tightening. you fist at his shirt, twisting and tugging as if it would bring you any relief.
his hands unbutton your dress until it’s open enough to expose your breasts and torso. the rough linen on his chest rubs against you, making your nipples pebble.
it feels so good.
you try to tell him that you’re going over the edge, but his lips occupy yours. he can feel it, anyway. the way you clench, your hips squirming as if you’re trying to get away from the pleasure. he swipes his thumb over your swollen clit one, two, three times, and then you’re coming with a cry into his hot mouth.
he swears against your lips. you’re certain you’ve got him, that he’ll do it. but your legs have gone slack and he isn’t forced against you anymore. he pulls out and ruts against your soft stomach until he cums between your breasts, biting his lip so hard it bleeds.
it takes you a moment to come back to earth, aftershocks rocking through you. but when you do, you grab a fist of his hair, pulling his slack head upwards to look at his flushed face.
“never disobey your princess again.”
he laughs.
“oh, your highness,” he coos. his shaking fingers gently touch the cum on your chest before dragging it down your stomach. his hand rests where you’d put it previously.
he’s mocking you. what you could have had. what he could have given you.
steve’s eyes are dark as he shakes his head. “i’m not afraid of you.”
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204 with pope omfg please i beg
prompts here
“i don’t care that you’re sorry” he spits out.
it doesnt matter how many times you apologised or told him you weren’t flirting with the man, there was only one way pope was gonna get over this.
he’s got his hand wrapped around your neck as he fucks you from behind against the sinks in the bathroom of a slimy downtown bar.
you’d both had a little too much to drink, pope could see you from across the bar as you ordered another round of drinks, he could see you laughing at whatever stupid joke the young bartender told you.
he was a jealous man as it was but when he was drunk? he got furious which is how he ended up pulling you into the bathroom as soon as you returned, needing to remind you who you belonged too.
“think that fucking bartender could make you come like i can huh?” he grunts as he thrusts his hard cock deeper inside of you.
you let out a little whimper in response “n-no… fuck. no” you cry, leaning your head back. “o-only you can”
pope smirks at your confession, bringing his hand up to your mouth, sliding his thumb in between your parted lips.
“thats right, only i can make this aching cunt feel good. now be a good girl and fucking take it”
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It will always be funny The Pitt has a cast of alot of gen z actors and the one that the most active on social media is the 49 year old 😭😭😭
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Andrew "Pope" Cody x Bank Heist Hostage! Reader Drabble
A/N: Took me a while but I finally got the drabble done. I'm hoping to flesh it into a full fic that I'll post on ao3 but we'll see what kind of feedback I get/how motivated my creative drive is.
Pope hadn’t mean to take her, he really hadn’t. Kidnapping hadn’t been apart of the plan, but there hadn't really been much of a plan in the first place. From the second that banker told him he needed more money for Lena’s college fund, it was all he could think about. Securing his niece’s future—no matter the cost—was his only goal, his penance for what he’d done to her mother and for failing to save her father. The first few banks had gone fine. Get in, neutralize security guards, threaten patrons as crowd control, intimidate tellers into giving him as much cash as quickly as possible, and get out, all before anyone presses panic buttons or alerts police. Between each job he changed clothes, weapons and stole a new car to confuse the police. It was practically child’s play. But then he got to the fifth bank and things got complicated.
Watching the door from his stolen car in the parking lot, he quickly realized that the only way he was getting in with his mask on was if the security guard at the front door couldn’t see him coming. And the only way he could do that was by using someone as a shield. Pope figured he could grab someone in the parking lot, take their car keys, use them as a human shield to get into the bank and then escape in their car after he was done getting the money. It was definitely a change in plans but nothing he couldn’t handle. Now he just needed the right hostage, and as if the heavens themselves had answered, the perfect one came driving up.
An unassuming woman in an unassuming car pulling up into a parking space between a large van and a truck, the perfect location for no cameras or witnesses. For just a moment, he had the fleeting thought that she looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place her. Ignoring it, he pulled his mask up and grabbed his duffle bag before slipping out of the car and heading towards hers.
Acting quickly, Pope snuck up behind her as she got out of her car, dropping the duffle bag before grabbing the woman from behind. He clamped one hand over her mouth just as she gasped in surprise, his other arm snaked around her waist to pull her against his chest as she began to struggle, trying to buck him off to no avail.
“Shhh, shh, shh.” He said quietly, ignoring her frantic clawing at his arms, helpless against a man much stronger than her. “Don’t fight me, I won’t hurt you.”
He could tell she was panicking, her chest heaving wildly as he moved the arm from her waist to grab his gun from his pocket and hold it up in front of her. She froze immediately, going still in his arms and the whimper smothered behind his hand made a stab of guilt shoot right through him.
“Just listen to me, I don’t want to have to shoot you but I will if you fight me. Do you understand?” He asked in a low voice, lips just ghosting over the shell of her ear through the fabric of his balaclava. She nodded. “Good. Now, I’m gonna remove my hand from your mouth, do not scream or you’ll be dead before anyone even looks this way.”
It wasn’t true, Pope may have been the “fixer” for his family but he didn’t enjoy hurting people, especially those who didn’t deserve it. He wouldn’t hurt her, even if she did start screaming, but she didn’t know that and that was enough to keep her in line.
“Do you understand?” She nodded once more as he slowly removed his hand from her mouth, ready to clamp it back down at the first sign of a scream. “What’s your name?”
She gave it in a hoarse whisper and he hummed, ignoring a tickling in the back of his brain at the sound of it, like a memory trying to surface at the most inconvenient time. Her trembling form against his body brought him back to the present. He had to stay focused or he would be headed back to prison—and he’d die before that happened.
“Just do exactly as I say and I'll let you go unharmed, I promise.” He said quietly, breath hot on her neck.
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I am your way out. This world already left you for dead. Won't let you build. Won't let you fellowship. We will do just that. Together. Forever.
Sinners (2025) dir. Ryan Coogler
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idk what i'm doing wrong. my asks don't get answered, my replies get ignored, my posts get almost no reblogs... why do i even try anymore
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just thinking about Pope being with someone that not only accepts his OCD tendencies but actively accommodates them.
like he's getting back into his truck from filling up at the gas station and they've already pulled out a little travel sized bottle of hand sanitizer from their bag. "what's that" he'd ask staring at the outreached bottle. "for your hands. those pump handles get gross. oh don't worry it's got moisturizer in it too, it won't dry your skin out". like that's something Pope has ever been concerned about but still wordlessly looks at his hands, amazed at how they aren't burning and stinging from the disinfectant because you know that boy doesn't moisture his hands often.
or like if he comes home and there's a new set of cleaning gloves next to his old ones. "oh yeah I saw those when I was grabbing groceries. they got this inside liner that's supposed to help them dry faster if they get wet. it's softer too". Pope silently listening to their partner talk while he touches the gloves, surprised at how they are softer and even more surprised how much that he likes that they are.
or even when he's getting out of bed for the fourth time in a night to check the door and window locks again even when he already knows they are, he knows. no harsh words or complaints wait for him when he returns, just arms tenderly looping around him once more. "thanks for checking and keeping us safe" sleeply whispered as a gentle kiss is pressed into his shoulder.
an unspoken acceptance and inclusion of Pope's compulsions that speaks louder than words ever could for someone that has been made to feel like a freak for them his entire life. actions that say "i'm thinking about you", because that's something Andrew Cody has never gotten once.
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