⋆˙⟡.˚ ☾ ⋆˙

They were perhaps not your most eloquent words, but boy are you glad you said them because—

“Fuck!” Michael fists his hands in the sheets, red in the face and panting between moans. “Wait, wait, wait!”

“Dunno if I can," Jack pants. He's got Michael face-down, ass-up on the very bed you share with the latter. "Your– ah, shit –your ass is a fuckin' dream, brother."

Michael groans loudly, shoving his face back into the bed. Leaning forward from your spot near the pillows, you click your tongue. Michael's head shoots up instantly as his wide distant eyes scramble to find you.

"Please, I get it," he gasps. "The knot's too much. I won't–"

Jack lets out a booming laugh, not faltering even slightly in his thrusts, "The knot? I'm not even close to poppin' a knot." With a harsh slap, Jack slams his hand down on the plump of Michael's ass, "Is my cock really too much for you? I thought you were a tough guy, Mike. Tsk-tsk."

Michael moans, which turns into something that sounds a lot like a sob.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" You soothe mockingly, brushing sweaty strands of hair away from Michael's forehead. "Isn't that why you're letting yourself get bent over like this?"

Michael leans into your touch, humming softly. He tilts his head fully towards you, but instead of the comfort he seeks, you pat him twice on the cheek and withdraw your touch.

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 your 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.”