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summary: you need help getting one of J's asshole friends to stop hitting on you.
|| pope cody x reader || angst, heavy making out, touchstarved!pope, jealous!pope, fake dating trope, pope is v socially awkward (leave my baby alone!!), age gap, non canon timeline, no specific season but earlyish, mentions of drugs and alcohol consumption, character study ||
a/n: based on diet pepsi by addison rae - potential smutty p2?
wc: 3k
Pope wasn't sure if he hated the summer or loved it.
He hung out awkwardly in a chair by the pool, cold beer sweating in his hand under the glare of the early summer sun. San Diego had a habit of being hot nearly all year round, but there was something about the end of spring that had everyone and their mother calling the Codys for a party. Bikinis, drugs, old friends of his brothers he barely talked to. All in the name of summer. By noon the backyard already smelled like chlorine, sunscreen, cigarette smoke, and grilled meat from the burgers Deran was flipping on the grill. Music blared from the speakers mounted under the patio awning so loud it vibrated the large floor to ceiling windows of the house.
With J taking college classes too, there had been more people around. Pope always figured his nephew was more the loner type, same as him, even if girls seemed to flock to the kid anyway. But college had done something to Jâit seemed to draw him out of his shell a little. He had more friends around the house, more nights out, more people filling Smurfâs backyard until Pope barely recognized half of them anymore.
That's how they'd met you, too.
Youâjust a friend of J's, you'd clarified more than once to Popeâwho looked so fucking cute in that little red bikini you had on. He could just see the red ties of the bottoms poking from cutoff shorts with the frays brushing your thighs every time you moved. A can of Diet Pepsi sat in your hand with one of those little pink straws poking out the top so you wouldnât ruin your lipstick. Pope always made sure they stayed stocked in the garage fridge, even if he didnât spend as much time at Smurfâs house anymore. But when he knew the guys were throwing something, when he knew J would be here, he somehow always found his way back over. Because if J was here, there was a good chance youâd be trailing in behind him sooner or later.
But he often wondered what you and J truly were, no matter how many times you said he was a friend. Why were the two of you tied at the hip so god damn much? It made Pope's knuckles blanch when he thought of all the time his nephew got to spend with you.
Now you were standing across the yard with your head tipped back laughing at something J said while Nicky stood beside you smoking a shared joint, the end burning bright orange each time she inhaled. Smoke curled through the air around all of you, mixing with the sharp chemical smell of pool chlorine baking under the heat. Pope watched J lean down closer to hear whatever you were saying over the music and felt his jaw tighten hard enough to ache.
"Heyâ"
He looked over to see Craig handing him a fresh beer. Pope hadnât even realized the one in his hand was empty already, his knuckles white around the neck of the bottle.
He merely grunted, taking it from his brother.
"You look like you need something harder than a beer, but I know you better."
Pope's lip twitched, hardly stealing a glance at him.
Craig let out a low whistle. âWhatâs got your panties in a twist today, huh?â
Pope finally looked over at him then. Craig had his sunglasses shoved up into his hair, dark locks tucked behind his ears, blue eyes narrowed with curiosity and amusement.
"Go away." Pope said simply.
"Oh, now I really wanna know." Craig grinned as he sat down beside him.
Pope clicked his tongue against his teeth and twisted the cap off the beer, taking a long drink of the cold amber liquid while his eyes drifted back toward you again. By then the back gate was opening, and he watched your entire demeanor change.
First, it was your smile that slipped. Then your eyes flicked toward the guys coming through the gate, then over to Nicky beside you, and you murmured something to her, but Pope was too far away and it was so fucking loud out here to hear anything. His attention sharpened immediately anyway, ears pricking up like a mutt waiting for a command.
The guys spilling into the backyard were long and lean in only that college-kid kind of way. Floppy hair, muscle tees loose over wiry arms, sunburnt shoulders, a thirty pack of Bud Light swinging between them. Pope knew the type without ever stepping foot on a campus himself.
"Oh, shit." Craig muttered when he followed Pope's hardened gaze.
One of the guys had walked right up behind you, tossing an arm over your shoulders familiarly, and yet Pope saw your whole body go still under it. He couldnât see your expression from here, only the way your head turned slightly toward Nicky. Across from you, J stood with his beer hanging loose in his hand, watching quietly, his face flattening out into that cold look heâd gotten better at lately. The Cody look.
"Easy, man. She's fine." he heard his little brother say beside him.
Pope felt like he was vibrating as he watched, ready to jump at any sign of this asshole giving you a hard time. He knew you could handle yourself too, but there was something about this guys confidence, how he thought he could come into his house and prey on his girl.
Pope stopped himself there. Not his girl. Not his house, really, either. He bit down on the inside of his cheek until his mouth filled with the taste of iron.
Then you slipped neatly out from under the guyâs arm, moving away from the group while lifting your drink toward the questioning looks they threw after you. Gotta get a refill. you called over your shoulder, as you walked away quickly.
But the second your back turned to them, your expression dropped. Plain annoyance sat across your face clear as day. Your shoulders folded inward a little while you crossed through the yard, weaving between people with your drink clutched against your stomach, making yourself smaller.
A little bit later, when you came back out into the yard with a new cold drink in hand, Craig was talking about some job he'd foundâsome mattress warehouse with a safe stacked with cash. Pope was only half listening. His attention snagged the second you stepped through the sliding glass door barefoot, little beads of condensation sliding down the side of your soda can onto your fingers.
You paused halfway across the patio, clearly intending to head back toward J, but the view of all those guys still talking around him seemed to make you pause. Your fingers tapped the side of the aluminum can in your hand, and thenâto his surprise and horrorâyour head swiveled, and you were looking at him.
At Pope.
And now you were walking towards him. His heart lept in his chest.
Craig noticed immediately, straightening up in his lounge chair with that easy grin he wore around pretty girls.
"Heyâ" Craig started, but you weren't even looking at him.
âDo me a favor?â you asked Pope quietly. He didn't even register the questionâthe answer would always be yes for you. He was nodding before he knew what you needed.
Your gaze flicked over your shoulder at the sound of footsteps coming across the concrete.
It all happened very quickly, and yetâhe remembered it as if it was slow motion.
You bent toward him, fingers slipping around his wrist first, then into his handâcold and wet to the touch from your sodaâand his callouses scraped against your soft skin. You lifted his hand carefully, guiding his arm out of the way so you could turn yourself between and sit down onto his lap. The soft wash of your shorts brushed against the black denim of his jeans, your weight settling over his left thigh, and Pope stopped breathing for a second.
Youâyou were touching him. Sitting in his lap. In front of everyone.
His hand stayed where youâd moved it, hovering awkwardly over your hip, fingers flexing in midair, his brain choking on what to do next. He could smell your green apple shampoo when you leaned back into him, could feel the heat of your legs through his jeans.
Was this a joke? Had you planned to make fun of him? To show all your little friends how much of a freak he was?
"Just go with it," you whispered into his ear, your hand coming up behind his neck, manicured fingers delicately cupping his skin. Despite the heat, his flesh rose up in goosebumps. You were balancing your soda awkwardly in the other hand while reaching back for his still-hovering arm, guiding it around your waist yourself. Your fingers pressed gently against the back of his hand until he held you properly, as if soothing him.
Most of his palm landed against the rough denim of your shorts, but his fingertips brushed frayed fabric and warm skin underneath. The bare top of your thigh. He wouldn't let himself look at you properlyâ the skimpy red bikini top showing more skin than he could handle so close to him, bare shoulders shining with the glow of sunscreen and your chest dabbled with sweat. He swallowed thickly.
Your head turned towards the guys who were walking over, and the one in the middleâAsshole who put his arm around youâhad stopped completely. His shoulders were tight, his glare ice cold.
But Pope was meaner. He knew how to do this, at leastâhow to play the guard dog, the meanest, eldest Cody brother. It was a role he slipped into easily, like second nature. The two of them stared at each other for a long minute.
Then J appeared beside the kid, clapping a hand onto his shoulder and saying something about putting their beer in the fridge. The group drifted away slowly after that, disappearing through the sliding door.
You let out a long sigh, your shoulders lightening as your fingers unlatched from Pope's neck. He missed the touch almost immediately.
"Thanks," you said.
Pope looked up at you. You were smiling gently down at him, casual as anything, but he soon realized that you weren't making any moves to get up. Your arm was still around his back, his still on the top of your thigh, but neither of you seemed eager to move away.
He just nodded stiffly. "Sure."
Your smile widened as the two of you studied each other. He watched you lift your soda, bringing the pink straw to your mouth. Pope did his god damn best not to let his eyes flit over your lips as you took a long sip.
He heard a huff of breath beside him suddenly.
"Well, that guy seemed like a dick."
You startled a little, turning your head like youâd forgotten Craig was still sitting there at all.
"Oh, hey Craig, I'm sorryâ" you said, and you moved to finally get up, but Pope held on fast. He wouldn't let his baby brother take this from him.
When you looked back at Pope, your brows pulled together faintly in question. Something curious flickered there for a moment, but then your expression softened, like you understood anyway. You leaned down, lips to his ear, "Let me just switch sides, that okay?"
Pope's lips tightened. He suddenly became painfully aware of every awkward thing about himself. The way his hand probably sat too stiff against your waist. The fact that your breath sent a tingle down his spine, making his jeans suddenly feel too tight. And the fact he hadnât said anything smooth this entire time. Anybody else would've known how to play thisâsmile, flirt a little, maybe make you laugh. But no, you were the charming one. The one who knew how to flirt, how to handle him.
So, he let go.
You kept your promise, only switching to his other thigh, letting his brother get an eye full of you now. You did the same thing againâbringing your hand around so you could take his, pulling it against yourself without even a moment of hesitation while you looked at the tallest Cody.
âSick party,â you told Craig, lifting your drink in distant cheers. âHow are you?â
Craig smiled back, all shiny teeth and charm as he held his beer up in salute, "I'm doin' good. What's up with your little friend?"
You rolled your eyes, "The guy has been trying to get me to go out with him for weeks." you sipped your drink again, eyes flickering over into the glass windows of the house, watching Asshole and his cronies from afar, "Except his version of taking me out is fucking me in the back his mom's BMW."
Pope was in the middle of taking a sip of beer when you said it, nearly choking.
"What the fuck did you just say?" he demanded. It was probably the most words heâd strung together to you all day. Hell, maybe all month.
But suddenly his head was making up different scenarios, none of them involving you in the back of Asshole's car, instead, he was wondering what the kid's head would sound like bouncing off the concrete when Pope's fist met it.
Your brows jumped a little at his reaction, but you only shrugged, unbothered. âHeâs a dickhead. Iâve been trying to tell him I have a boyfriend, but he doesnât believe me.â
"Do you?" Craig asked.
Pope thought maybe his little brother wasnât completely useless after all.
He saw you shake your head in his periphery, and his heart, the traitorous thing, began to pound in his chest a little.
âNo,â you admitted softly. âAnd I donât think our little performance convinced him much either.â
Your gaze drifted back toward the sliding doors just as the group started filing outside again. Pope felt your body tense slightly on his thigh before you muttered a quiet, Oh, fuck my life under your breath. The asshole slowed when he passed, taking another long look at where you sat in Popeâs lap.
And Pope stared right back at him, lip curling.
Once they had gone towards the other side of the pool, he heard his brother say lightly: âI bet if you made out in front of him, they'd buy it.â
"Shut your mouth." Pope snapped, his hard glare turning on his brother.
But you barely seemed to hear either of them. You kept looking over your shoulder toward the yard, eyes skimming from Asshole to J and Nicky talking nearby, chewing lightly at your lip while you thought about something.
When you turned back to Pope and his brother, you had a funny look on your face.
Pope frowned slightly. âWhat's wrong?â
You hesitated, studying his face. You had lost that easy confidence from a moment before, fingers playing with your straw as you looked at him.
"Would that⌠? No, no nevermind." you said, shaking your head. You cut yourself off by lifting your drink to your mouth again, shifting a little on his thigh in the process. The movement dragged your hip against him, making him painfully aware of just how much he was affected by your closeness.
Beside him, Craig made a strangled noise trying not to laugh. When Pope looked over, his brother was practically vibrating in his chair, eyebrows climbing halfway up his forehead while he grinned like a complete asshole.
"Get outta here, goâ" Pope barked.
Craig finally lost the fight against his grin. He held both hands up in mock surrender while getting up from the lounge chair and walked away, shoulders shaking with mirth.
âSorry,â Pope murmured once his brother was out of earshot.
He took another swallow of beer and leaned down to set the bottle carefully beside the chair, his movements slower now, more aware of you sitting there against him than anything else.
You shrugged, "It wasâŚa good idea."
Pope's brows pulled together when he looked at you. God, you were so fucking close. The feel of your warm, soft skin against him, the smell of your apple shampoo mixing with sunscreen and the syrupy fake-sweet scent of the Diet Pepsi in your hand. He still couldn't believe you were sitting on his lap. Touching him. Pulling his arm around you as if it natural, like there wasnât anything strange or dangerous about him to hesitate over.
And now you were looking at him with that look, something behind your eyes he couldnât immediately sort out, and the fact he couldnât sort it out made his stomach knot. As uncomfortable as he made people feel sometimes, Pope could still catch onto things. Patterns. He was always used to the way people acted, knew if they were lying because they started acting differently around him. But you never did that with him, and you never looked nervous around him like this before.
A thought occurred to him, one that made his stomach hurt even worse. Maybe you saw him for what he wasâscary, mean; Smurf's dog made to heel and bark and bite when she commanded it. He became horribly aware of himself under your searching gazeâhow tightly his hand was holding your thigh, how he could still just feel the top edge of your skin, your shoulder bumping into his chest when you'd shift.
And maybe you'd just realized whose lap you were in.
"AndrewâŚ" you murmured, "Are you okay?"
He nodded.
You set your drink down in a hurry, cold aluminum knocking lightly against the concrete beside the chair before both your hands came up to his neck, fingers spreading against his skin as you tipped his face upward toward yours. Your touch was cold, wet from the soda.
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I'm sorry."
You were touching him again. Both hands on his neck. Your face was so close to his. Noses nearly bumping. He could make out every clump of mascara around your eyes, your smudged lipstick. It made him nearly nauseous with want. Your eyesâthey were worried. Why were you so worried to be around him now?
"I shouldn't have askedâor evenâI don't know, Craig said it and for some reason I thought maybeâ"
The gears in his brain finally started catching up after spinning uselessly for the last few minutes, thoughts grinding slowly into place one after another while he stared at your mouth moving so close to his.
What Craig had said⌠What had his brother said?
I bet if you made out in front of him, theyâd buy it.
âYouâŚâ he managed finally, his mouth dry as cotton, heart thudding so hard it hurt. âWant toâŚ?â
You licked your lips nervously, and the movement nearly derailed his thoughts again immediately.
"Not if it makes you uncomfortable. I justâŚâ You sighed and glanced over your shoulder toward the yard. Your hair brushed lightly across his nose before you looked back at him again.
âIâm gonna lie to you and tell you itâs only to make this guy get off my back, okay?â
âWhatâs the truth?â he asked quietly, somehow finding enough nerve to force the words out.
Your teeth caught your bottom lip. âI just need you to tell me if itâs okay to do thisââ
You leaned closer.
Popeâs hand moved before he could think better of it, wrapping carefully around your wrist to stop you there. So softâthe delicate bones of your joint in his rough hand.
"Y-yes butâwhat's the truth?" he echoed. He had to know. He had to.
You were hardly listening now, your attention splitting somewhere between him and the movement in the yard behind him, and Popeâs brain kept trying to grab onto something solid, some version of this that made sense, because he had to be out of his fucking mind to think maybe you meant what he desperately wanted you to mean. Maybe you actuallyâ
But then your eyes flicked over his shoulder again, and Popeâs gaze followed yours automatically, catching the group of guys heading back across the patio towards you with J in tow, and suddenly your fingers tightened against Pope's face.
And then you turned into him, and kissed him.
You tasted like aspartame.
That syrupy sweet taste from the soda, like the waxy, cherry lipstick that you kept in your pocket. The smell of apple shampoo and sunscreen filled his nose while your lips pressed hard against his with a little gasp that went straight down his belly and into his dick. You didnât kiss him shyly either. Pope could tell immediately you were trying to make a point, trying to push this far enough that anybody watching would understand exactly what they were seeing.
When he felt your tongue trace the seam of his lips, he didn't care anymore. He didn't care if this was some ruse to get Asshole off your back, he didn't care if you didn't actually like him, because fuck your tongue felt so good against his mouth. He was opening for you, tasting you back, and he could've swornâunder the noise of the music blaring, of the pool water splashing and people talking over one anotherâhe heard a small, little helpless moan from your throat when he finally kissed you back properly.
His hands tightened around you immediately, both arms circling your waist to drag you closer against him until there was hardly any room left between youâyour shoulder pressed tightly into his chest, a little awkward with the way you sat sideways across his thigh, but he didn't give a shit.
It felt endless and too short all at once, your tongues sliding together smoothly while you held his face so tenderly it made his throat tighten, and then little by little that tenderness started disappearing into want and hunger. Your fingers pushed into his hair harder now, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, making his breath stutter against your mouth.
âHoly shit.â
The voice cut through the air beside you like a gunshot beside him. The party seemed to rush back in all around at onceâthe sounds of people shouting scores for dives off the pool house, music blasting, the sliding door opening and closing.
And then you were pulling back, lips unlatching from his. To Popeâs immediate disappointment it was Deran standing there frozen beside the cooler with a beer halfway out of the ice.
He licked his lips automatically even as he glared at his brother, catching the lingering taste of you on his mouth, and when he looked up at you again your lips were swollen and shiny.
You glanced toward the group of guys across the yard, then Deran with a quick, oh-- hi, Deran, before looking back at Pope. Your hands were still around his neck, and you were leaning in again. But this time, your lips went to his ear.
âThe truth is, Andy...â you murmured softly.
Pope felt another shiver move through him at the feel of your breath against his neck, and his grip tightened on your little denim shorts as you said, ââŚI've wanted to do that for a long time.â
And then, as if you'd merely said thanks, pope, bye! you were pulling away from him, brushing your thumb across his top lip, wiping away whatever lipstick you'd left him with, and you were standing from his lap and walking off through the yard like you hadnât just detonated his entire fucking nervous system in front of half the party.
Deran let out a low laugh beside him before grabbing a pool towel from the chair nearby and tossing it at Popeâs chest.
âYouâre gonna wanna sit there for a minute,â he said. âWait out that, uh⌠problem.â
Pope glared at his brother over the towel clutched in his lap.
why am I literally so nervous and would you like a part two yes or no
oh to get pulled over for speeding by your husband sammy <3
shrugging your shoulders and forming a wince when you see the officer sammy bryant rolling up to your window. eyes squinted shut a bit at "okaaaay, license and registration."
when he finally gets a good look at you, he's cooing "baby... what the fuck? this is a 30, you were doing 45. what's the rush princess? whatsa matter?"
you're pleased to find out that crying does, indeed, still get you out of a ticket. you're hyperventilating as sammy watches, "shh, shhh okay, okay honey c'mon outta the car."
he opens the door for you, helping you stand up and hugging you, a gentle rock back n forth as he tuts into your hair "gotta be careful baby, you're precious cargo, you know that? huh?" sammy holds you for a few more minutes, big soothing hand running down your back to help even your breaths. you never did like getting in trouble, and it's even worse when you disappoint him.
after a few minutes and a call over the radio, sammy pulls back with thumbs rubbing at your arms. he meets your eye level, putting on that soft dominant voice you love so much, "now get your pretty lil ass back in the car, drive home- slowly now, okay? and go lay down for a little, you're too worked up sweetheart. i'll be home soon, kay? okay baby? alright.. g'head" tapping your butt as you get back in the car, closing the door for you on the way.
when you pull away he smiles at you, making the "i'm watching you" signal with his pointer and middle finger and flashing you his million-dollar, crooked, charming smile.
jack has a pool at his place and you like to go out and swim and sunbathe. sometimes youâll fall asleep in the sun and wake up to him eating your out⌠he just canât help it
18+ minors do not interact !!
you love summertime at jack's house. you're always over, using his pool, letting him grill dinner for you both every night--it's a dream. he always jokes that you only love him for his pool, and that's so not true--but it's a big part!
after hours in the sun, swimming and tanning, you'll lay back on the lounge chair, dozing off to the soft music playing from your speaker. you wake up to the sun going down, moaning and stretching out on the chair, thinking you must've had a good dream. when your hands fly down and you grip silver curls--you know, this is not a dream.
"fuck--jack," you moan, trying to sit up, concerned on his comfort level with his leg as he kneels down to eat your pussy. jack knows this, knows his girl is always looking out for him, but he shoves your legs open wide, keeping his grip tight. "'s okay, baby. i'm okay--just let me taste you. couldn't help myself with you all laid out like this."
you whimper, laying back down to move your hips, fucking his face, getting your wetness all over his week old stubble. "mhmm, feels so good, oh my god." his tongue swirls around around your clit, sucking lightly and you come apart, flooding his tongue. you come down, trying to close your legs and move away, but jack grabs your ankle, going back in for seconds.
"'m not done, baby. you can give me one more, can't you?" you can't say no to that. <3
âIâ I just donât wanna hurt you, baby,â Pope moans, his fingers digging into your waist.
âYou wonât,â you whine.
Pope was already good at everything that involved you bare and open for him, but you needed more, and deep down, you knew he did too. He just needed a push.
âFuâfuck,â he groans, eyes locked on yours, something shifting behind them as he considers it. âYou better tell me if I do.â
You nod quickly.
âUse your words, baby.â
âYesâ yes, I will,â you moan, your back arching as he drives into you.
He watches you, hand coming up, his fingers landing against your cheek, just enough.
And thatâs all it takes.
Your orgasm crashes over you instantly, your body tightening around him, eyes rolling back, nails digging into his chest.
Pope stills for a second, watching you fall apart like that (just from that) and something in him flips.
Heâs mesmerized. That was all it took.
Heâs going to have a field day with this.
And he does.
Still, thereâs hesitation lingering, he needs to hear you, needs you to say it, to make sure youâre with him every step.
He loves the sounds you make, the way your voice shifts when he pulls your hair, the way your body reacts when he holds you in place, one hand at your throat, the other pressing against your stomach, keeping you exactly where he wants you.
âFuck⌠youâre so pretty like this,â he mutters, voice low. âYou like this, huh? You like when I have you like this?â
All that leaves you is a broken whimper as his pace slows.
âI asked you something.â
A sharp smack lands.
Your back arches higher, a moan slipping out as his hand presses you back down, grounding you again. His fingers come up to your face, holding you there, your cheek still stinging.
You bite your lip, barely holding back a smart comment.
âCat got your tongue, sweetheart?â
Silence.
His expression darkens, a quiet, almost amused breath leaving him.
âAlright.â
Thatâs all he says.
And then youâre being thrown in the air until youâre bent over the kitchen table, your stomach against the surface, hips lifted.
His hand tangles in your hair, pulling you back just enough for your spine to press against him. You whine as he drags himself against you teasingly.
âYou better answer me when I ask you a question,â he mutters, pushing you back down before finally filling you again, your voice breaking around his name.
Silence again.
âCâmon, baby,â he exhales.
Another sharp smack.
The sting making your whole body react, your orgasm already building again. And Pope had made one thing very clear he would not get you there if you were being a brat.
âYou feel so good, baby,â you manage, hands flat against the cold wood.
âThatâs my girl,â he murmurs, his pace picking up in response.
âCome for me,â he breathes, his hand dropping between your legs, pushing you closer to the edge. âYou feel so fucking good like this⌠like you were made for me.â
Another smack.
âSuch a dirty girl,â he adds, voice rougher now. âI can feel you gripping my cock each time⌠is that what you want?â
âYesâ yes, yes,â you repeat, the words falling out of you without control.
Thatâs all the encouragement he needs.
Each movement lines up, deliberate, consistent, pushing you further until it finally snaps
Your whole body tenses, shaking as your release hits hard, your breath breaking as he slows, riding you through it.
You collapse forward against the table, trying to catch your breath.
Popeâs hand moves to your back, steady as he leans in, his voice low against your ear.
âCâmon, baby⌠letâs get you cleaned up.â
His hands slide around your waist, helping you up before lifting you easily, carrying you to the bedroom without a second thought.
Aftercare wasnât optional for him.
It never is.
You told him once he didnât have to go through all of it, he obviously didnât listen.
âCâmon,â he murmurs, voice softer now, completely different from before. âEasy.â
He keeps a steady hand on you as he guides you to the bathroom, not letting go. Even standing feels like too much, and he notices immediately.
âI got you,â he says quietly.
He stays close, waiting, making sure youâre alright before doing anything else. When youâre done, heâs already reaching for what he needs, movements careful, almost practiced.
âRelax,â he adds softly when you tense.
He cleans you himself, gentle, and thorough like thereâs nothing else in the world that matters right now but making sure youâre okay.
Once youâre settled, he doesnât stop there.
Back in the bedroom, he has you sit before kneeling in front of you again, his hands steady as he checks over you, like he needs to see it himself.
âTell me if itâs too much,â he mutters, more to reassure himself than anything.
He grabs the ointment, applying it carefully, his touch light despite everything that came before.
âDonât want you hurting tomorrow,â he adds, almost under his breath.
Only when heâs satisfied does he help you into bed, adjusting everything until youâre comfortable.
Then he climbs in behind you, pulling you into him immediately.
âYou did good,â he murmurs into your hair, pressing a slow kiss there. âSo good for me.â
His hand moves along your back in slow patterns, the other coming up to cradle your face, thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.
Like he needs to feel you there.
Like he needs to know youâre still with him.
âToo good to me,â he repeats quietly.
Your legs tangle together, his body almost wrapped around yours completely, holding you close in a way that feels instinctive.
His voice doesnât stop, soft praise, quiet reassurances, the same words repeated until your breathing evens out.
Until you fall asleep (and even then he stays exactly where he is)
Pope Cody who is just so obsessed with his girls legs that he begs you to let him fuck your thighs.
He loves the way you look splayed out naked in front of him, unresisting as he presses your legs together and lifts them up so both of your ankles are resting over one of his shoulders.
Heâd hold your ankles in place, running his fingers up and down the surface of your lower legs and leaving little kisses on the sensitive skin there as he thrusts himself between your plush thighs.
His eyes would be just absolutely glued to the spot where his cock slides in and out. The sight is nearly too much for him to handle. Just the way your body looks squeezing around his length draws loud, whimpery sounds from him.
âFuckinâ love these thighs, baby. So soft and warm for me. Can I come on them? Please?â heâd whine soooo bad. Just so needy and desperate for you. Heâd do literally anything youâd ask so long as he gets to keep fucking you like this.
With your permission he comes, hot stripes shooting out onto your stomach and coating your inner thighs.Â
Afterward heâd pull out and let your legs down from his shoulder so you can get into a more comfortable position, but he doesnât plan on cleaning up the sticky mess heâs made until he can admire how you look, all disheveled and covered in him.Â
Heâd prop his chin between your bent knees, eyes angled down to take in the way his cum drips down your sides and onto the sheets. Occasionally, heâd twist his lips to the side to place a little kiss on your kneecap.
Once heâs satisfied with his staring, heâd use his palms to spread your knees apart and bring himself face to face with your dripping cunt
âThis all for me?â heâd whisper against your skin, bringing his lips exactly where you need them, using his tongue to lap up the wetness thatâs built up between your legs.
The contact of his mouth and tongue as they work against you has you fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs together. Pope notices and pulls himself back from sucking on your clit.
âDonât do that⌠want you to crush my head between them. Yâhear me?â Heâd ask, leaning back in to tease your entrance with his tongue only after you clench your thighs around him.
He wouldnât come up for air until heâs coaxed multiple orgasms out of you. Heâd be content to just lay between your legs for hours indulging in the way you taste.Â
Pope Cody could die with his head between your legs and he would die a very happy man.
a/n: is this anything? no not really but i was feeling a lil self indulgent as a member of the thick thigh community alr? sue me !!
Pope Cody with doctor reader (maybe she got her license revoked after a surgery gone wrong so she does medical care for career criminals) đsheâs extra sweet to him and always makes sure heâs comfortable and stitched up just right
18+
okay i LOVE this. all the cody brothers take turns going to the garage to get stitched up by you, pope always in the corner, watching, waiting his turn. in the beginning, you would always check in, asking if he needed to be seen by you first--but he would just shake his head, gesturing to craig on the table, "n-no i can wait. get him fixed up first."
his brothers caught on before he did, knowing pope wanted to sit in while you tended to them, to keep an eye on you, be closer to you. pope's got a little crush n they totally tease him about it.
pope always waits to be patched up last--wanting you to take your time with him, without any sort of interruption. you know that he's stalling, normally a couple little cuts and bruises would take minutes to tend to--but you know he likes a little fussing from you. closes his eyes, sighing when you put your fingers on his eyebrow cut, softly placing a bandage there, whispering, "all cleaned up."
one night he comes home with his arm marred, blood dripping off of him as he holds it, stumbling onto the nearby stool to sit down. you're in the middle of treating deran, gasping as you run over to him, "andrew! oh my god--this looks bad. i have to treat that now."
peeling his arm away from his body, he grunts, wincing as you take a closer look, insisting that he's fine and that you can finish up with deran. his eyes look a bit wild, probably from the shock of the pain, so you take your hand and place it on his cheek, turning his face to yours, making eye contact. "andy-- you have to let me treat this, okay? it's sweet you don't want to interrupt me but this is a priority."
he blinks, eyes flicking to where your hand meets his face, features softening. "okay?" you whisper one more time to him as deran moves, knocking something over in his attempt to leave you two alone. pope flinches, growling almost as he barks at deran, "get. out!"
"jesus, pope--chill! i'm going!" the garage door shuts, leaving you two alone as you get started on working on his arm, pope watching you with focused eyes the entire time, letting you mumble and whisper to him stitch him up. âĄ
âą content. pope cody x reader. slightly sub!pope. use of âpupâ. handjĂśb.
pope cody who shows up at your door past midnight, hands shoved in his pockets, jaw set tight, tired around the edges. no text. no warning. just him.
you open the door and look at him soft, the way nobody does anymore, and he doesnât know what to do with that. steps inside slow, like heâs still deciding if he deserves to be here.
he probably doesnât think he does.
and somehow it ends up like this. pope on his back, your hand wrapped around his thick cock, stroking him slow and easy while he buries his face into your chest. hiding. fingers curled into your shirt, clinging, whimpering these small broken sounds against your skin that heâd never let anyone else hear. heâs already leaking, wet against your palm, hips twitching up with every lazy drag of your hand like he canât help himself.
pope cody who whines and noses further into your chest when you slow your hand, chasing the friction, desperate and shameless about it.
pope cody who is completely gone. melting under your hands like heâs been starved for this. for someone to just be gentle with him.
âyou gonna cum for me, andy?â you ask it sweet, honeyed, fingers tightening just slightly on the upstroke.
he nods into your chest. âyeahâ he breathes, hips stuttering up into your hand. âyeah, sâgood, donât stopââ his hand comes up to paw weakly at your wrist, not stopping you, just holding on.
âgood pup,â you murmur into his hair and he licks a slow stripe up your neck without thinking, instinctive, then goes very still like he surprised himself. a whine climbing up his throat anyway, hips rolling desperate and unsteady into your hand.
pope cody who comes apart quietly after that, shivering, face still pressed to you like he canât stand to be looked at right now. embarrassed by how much he needed it. by how fast those two words took him there.
you card your fingers through his hair and he exhales, slow and shaky.
need to be an equally possessive gf w pope⌠I could match his freakđ¤ lookin like the âis this allowedâ vine
MMMHM YUP
pope thinks he's weird for watching you while you sleep? you're taking photos of him while he's napping and putting them into a folder called "eepy andy đ đž". he's so deeply endeared when he finds out
you've got him giggling and blushing all the time and his brothers are terrified of you and the power you hold, having their menacing big brother curling into your side. you two go on the most unconventional dates. sometimes you go to the grocery store and just rearrange the shelves together (#mydreamdate)
pope tells every woman who looks in his direction that "I have a girlfriend. I love her a lot." partly because it's true, but also he'd feel sooo guilty about anyone else thinking they'd have a chance with him when he's so ridiculously obsessed with you
being possessive with him in bed too <3 nails biting into his shoulders and raking down his back, whispering, "you're mine, andy, n' i'm yours, right? 's just us, forever?" and he groans, picking up the pace as he grinds deep into you, "yeah, baby, 's just us."
Thinking about Pope Cody clearly wanting to be intimate with you but refusing to make a move until you give him express permission to do so (early days maybe, thinking about the scene on Amy's couch...) so he's stuck there, hands bunched up into meaty fists by his still clothed thighs, bulge about to bust out his pants from how hard his dick is, a dark wet spot on his pants right where the tip of his cock sits betraying his excitement....
N it's sooo cute...he's all pink in the face, lips swollen from where you two had been sharing kisses on your couch, eyes pleading for more, his labored breath coming in hot puffs against your face as he refuses to ask when he clearly wants it... doesn't even cross his mind that he can ask, really.
"Andy~" You murmur all sweet from where you'd been sitting pretty in his lap, your arms slung around his neck like you own him. "Don't you wanna touch me, baby?"
Because, see, you're awfully touchy about big, brawny Pope. You have been since the moment you got together, driving him fucking crazy with your coy touches and caresses. One of your hands busies itself cards through his auburn curls, the other fiddling with the top button of his shirt, loving the way he's riling himself up so quick at some kisses and touches. The way his hips buck up in short, aborted thrusts and his breath stutters something awful when you plant slow, lipgloss sticky kisses up his jaw.
N poor, sweet, shy Pope who's thick cock is twitching and leaking pre under your ass, who's hands are itching to grab at you and flip you over the arm of the couch, who's so loyal to you that he'd rather bust his pants untouched than risk scaring you with an unwanted touch, grunting out in that low monotone voice of his "You never said I can.." all shakey n a bit pitched...đ
Oh and when you give the go ahead, more than eager to have his rough paws on you? Best believe he's taking handfuls, straight grabbing. Gripping both your asscheeks like they're gold, squeezing n kneading, pushing your panties to the side so he can get to the good stuff immediately. Delights in hearing your moans in his ear as he guides you to grind against his throbbing length, teeth itching bad to sink into the soft flesh of your shoulder as his body starts to buzz so he settles for sloppy, open mouthed smooches instead...fingers dug so deep in your soft thighs that you'll definitely be seeing purple finger bruises for daysss after.
And when you finally have enough of rutting like a bunch of horny teens and pull back, eyes glazed n pupils blown wide, whining something about "Andrew just fuck me already-"? oh baby you best believe from the hungry look Pope's giving you that you're about to get folded like origami asap, your poor kitty won't even know what hit it. You gave him permission after all đ
craig comes across andrew and his gf's homemade videos (18+)
(not proofread)
series masterlist
-
as per usual, craig could totally justify himself in his actions.
it wasn't like he'd walked into pope's room in search for the tiny little digital camera that now resided in his hands. he had an iphone at his disposal, what the hell would he use a digital camera for?
but it was the content of the tiny screen that had caught his attention.
pushing aside his search for the baggies nicki had misplaced somewhere around the house, he was now onto an entirely different mission.
pope's was usually the last room he liked to go into. it was eerily clean, with every single one of his possessions perfectly laid in its assigned spot. which was why the camera had stuck out like a sore thumb. it was an odd thing for pope to leave lying around, specially on his bedside table.
and so he picked it up.
and then he fell into a trance.
displayed on the small screen was a paused video.
you were sat back on the side of the bed, elbows digging into the plush of the mattress as you supported your weight on them, looking up at the camera with wide eyes and a tiny, pleased smile. your body was barely covered by a pink negligee falling off your shoulder and your tit peaking out. your hair had a little more volume than usual and your makeup was slightly different. you'd done yourself up for this.
with the click of a button, the enticing thumbnail began playing.
the quality was somewhat shitty, which annoyed craig a bit.
it was shot from pope's perspective, he noticed immediately. he towered over you as you sat on the bed looking up at him.
"hey, handsome," you spoke at the camera, cheeky smile on your lips.
your hands went up to pope's body, disappearing from frame but clearly beginning to paw at pope's chest off-camera.
similarly, pope's hand entered frame, cupping your cheek as you leaned into the touch. your face turned slightly to the side, mouthing at pope's palm until you caught his thumb in your mouth.
the angle of the camera raised a little, giving craig the perfect angle as you looked up at the camera, eyes wide and mouth suctioning at pope's thumb. he could pretend it wasn't his brother's.
"fuck, baby. so fuckin' perfect for me," pope interrupted.
after some moments, you finally slipped the thumb out of your mouth, licking at its length once before kissing the back of pope's hand.
with some coaxing, you laid back on the bed as pope drew himself closer, straddling your body on the bed.
"let me get a good look at you, angel."
this was followed by pope somewhat shakily panning into every inch of your body. he started with your face, planting a kiss on your lips before you showed the camera a toothy smile. his hand came out once more to caress at your cheek, trailing down to your neck, to your half-uncovered tits. there, his thumb circled your nipple through the thin fabric, drawing a sigh out of you.
below him, you squirmed and moaned for pope as his hand traced down every inch, feeling every supple inch of barely-covered skin. occasionally he'd lean down and kiss at whatever part of your body laid in front of him at that moment, making it so the camera drew too close for craig to see anything, but he could still hear that tiny intake of breath you did every time he kissed you.
"andy... want you."
"i know you do."
again, he panned out, hovering over you and showing your needy self under him. there was some silence, only filled up by some low grunts of pope's.
"do i look pretty, andy?" you giggled up at him after some moments of silence, eyes drawing below the lens every so often.
"so pretty, baby," he grunted.
craig could guess what was going on off-screen as pope watched you.
"you gonna fuck me, or what?"
a breathless chuckle could be heard off-screen, and then some unbuckling and ruffling of clothes.
a hand appeared, digging into your hip as pope drew himself closer. while one hand shakily held onto the camera, the other aided in turning you over and onto your hands and knees.
from behind you, pope adjusted you, pressing deep into the small of your back to get your ass further up and your arch a little deeper.
teasingly, you swayed your hips at him, smiling at him as you twisted your head to look back into the camera.
the tiny thong you had on hid absolutely nothing, much less did the negligee pope had pushed up to fully uncover your ass.
the next few scenes were a little unfortunate for craig.
they consisted of pope pulling out his dick, stroking it as he pressed it into you, circling at your clit as you mewled out his name and pushed your ass up against him.
craig was conflicted. on one hand, he didn't want to see his brother's dick, but on the other, he really wanted to see you getting fucked from behind.
with a mental coin toss, he decided to do some mental gymnastics to remove pope from the equation and solely focus on how breathless your wails sounded as soon as pope made his way inside you.
he had a perfect view of the recoil of your ass, groaning inwardly when you'd push back, when the sound of skin slapping joined in with your tiny, high-pitched moans.
sometimes pope would grip at your hair, making you sit up on your knees and pressing your back to his chest. craig couldn't really see much from this angle, but he'd hear the kissing and your muffled cries.
he wasn't sure when this was recorded, whether he'd been at home when it happened, but you'd been careless in the volume of your noises. an endless stream of sounds of pleasure left your lips as pope pounded into you.
"m-more, ffuuck, please."
"right there- fuck, don't stopâ"
"andy- oh, fuck, andy!"
these were all sounds he'd grown familiar with through your relationship with pope. you were never shy in expressing yourself in the bedroom, but seeing it? and from this angle, where he could pretend it wasn't his brother who was dragging these noises out of you?
fuck, he could just-
"what are you doing in my room?"
craig felt his body go completely still. every hair in his body stood up and his muscles tensed.
he couldn't dare look behind him, to look at the source of the voice as the video continued to play in his hands.
"and what the fuck are you doing with my camera?"
slowly, craig twisted his body, camera still in his hands as he looked to find pope's erect figure standing by the door of his room.
"hey, man, i was just-"
"fuck are you doing looking at my videos of my girl?"
with a single move, pope's hand landed on a tight grip around craig's wrist, making him groan out as his fingers relaxed around the camera, letting it fall onto pope's other hand.
mutely, the sex noises could still be heard emanating from the digital camera. pope turned the volume down, not once taking his threatening eyes away from craig's guilty ones.
"i just- i was looking for my baggies and-"
"they're not in my room."
craig sighed at the interruption, "yeah, man, i noticed. i just saw the camera and i got curious, that's all."
"you got curious for," he took a moment to check the screen, "twelve minutes and fifty-five seconds?" he read off the time lapsed of the video.
craig winced.
"it's not like that, okay?"
it was pure denial, but if craig knew anything, it was that the best remedy was always to lie your way out of trouble.
pope nodded to himself, unconvinced. with one step forward, he was in craig's face, looking up to him with that same threatening expression pope reserved for anyone but you.
"i catch you looking at my girl again, i'm going to break your legs. this is your last warning, craig."
even as he towered over him, craig gulped with a nod, eyes wandering away from his. it was kind of embarrassing how easily he folded under his gaze. he knew pope would be good on his words, specially with this being his second warning.
"understand?"
"yeah- yep, got it, pope."
taking his chance, he rounded pope and practically sprinted out of the room. outside, he let out the breath he'd been holding, relieved it didn't escalate this time around.
but even then, he found himself making a mental note.
he'd have to come back when pope was out of the house.
pope tapping his lips whenever he wants a kiss MEOW
this is canon. idc, i make the rules! pope's not huge with words, more talkative some days more than others, and with you he knows he can be himself--giving you gestures, wordlessly grabbing you to hold you close, small acts of love where words aren't needed.
loves to make you your favorite dinner, bringing the plate over to you, setting it down to then tap his lips, causing you to sit up, giving him a quick kiss as a thank you. sitting out by the pool, he turns you to face him, tapping his lips so that you'll lean forward, getting lost in the feeling of the kiss. has you seated on a stool in the garage, watching him work on something for his next job, caging you in between him and the work table, tapping his lips.
one night you have the pie laid out on the dining room table, waiting for the boys to get home when you hear the front door open, heavy steps coming down the hallway. pope and his brothers walk in, job successful, grabbing the plates off the table. pope skims your waist as he walks behind you, moving to sit down, and you walk up, standing between his thighs as you tap your lips. he smirks, leaning in to kiss you--pulling you down onto his lap, tongue tangling with yours.
craig groans from beside you, plate scraping the table as he gets up, taking his dessert elsewhere.. <3
Okay but letting Pope panty fuck but tell him no penetration. He starts out so well(we all know heâs a panty fiend) but as he keeps going and sees your blissed out face, hearing his name on your tongue, he just ends up fucking you raw. Going so deep and until youâre crying his name and so cold drunk you donât even care when he comes inside
this gave me chills a bit anon⌠i might love u⌠âĄ
18+ minors do not interact !! cw: a bit of cnc
popeâs on top of you, mouth slightly open, pupils dilated as he watches his cock run through your pretty lace panties, smearing his precum all over your weeping pussy. he tries, really tries so hard to convince you to let him in, whining and pouting above you, taking his cock down to tease your hole.
âandyâfuck. be a good boy... only in the panties.â
he groans, placing his hand by your head, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. you love the way the head of his cock nudges at your clit, making your whole body tingle, making the biggest wet spot on your panties n pope. youâve cum twice already, a bit fucked out as you moan, âdoing so good for me, andyââ
he canât take it anymore when you arch your back, telling him youâre so close, listening to the way his balls slap your ass, the way your sticky cum sounds as he grinds his cock through your folds. canât help it when he moves down to your hole, shoving inside you in one go, loving the way you clamp around him, pulsing.
he throws his head back, grabbing your hips to pull you onto his cock harder, whimpering, ââm sorryâfeels too good, please donât be mad at meâiâm sorry, fuck.â
you coo, stretching your arms out on the bed as you grind your hips, meeting his thrusts half way, âawh, andyâyou were such a good boy for me, you can have me. deserve it.â that spurs him on, groaning a string of âthank youâthank youâs as he fucks you, losing himself in your pussy, becoming such a sweet, fucked out, subby mess. :((
youâre standing in his doorway, trying to stop pope from leaving to go on his first job back with his brothers, wearing his favorite panties of yours, his favorite bra. âandyâcâmon just a quickie, they wonât notice!â
he walks up, looking down at you over his nose, huffing as he tries to move you. you trip a little, twisting to wrap your arms around his neck. âpleaseâyouâve been gone so long, baby. i miss you.â you run your fingers over his scalp, watching him debate this in his head.
âfine. only if you shut up about itân make it quick. this is my first job back.â
you squeal. bouncing on your toes as you take his hand, guiding him towards the bed, having him sit against the headboard in his camo pants, army green top. fuck, he looks so good. veins on display and all.
you sit down on his lap, lifting up his green shirt, running your hands along his abdomen before fiddling with the button of his pants, dragging his zipper down to take out his hard cock. you start to pump him, relishing in the way he feelsâso hard and so soft, before heâs grunting, âquit playing with it.â
you roll your eyes, âso strictâthey wonât leave without you,â n you lift up as pope helps you, taking his finger to pull your panties to the side as you sink down on his cock, moaning and arching your back at the feeling. youâre still not used to his size with him being back, didnât forget how big he was, just need time to adjust.
once heâs bottomed out, pope guides you by your hips, up and down slowly, gritting his teeth as youâre moaning like a fucking porn star above him. âfuck, andrew! so bigâoh my god, oh my god!â
it feels animalistic the way you fuck himâscratching him through his army green shirt, biting on his ear, throwing your head back, hands to your tits to play with your nipplesâpope loves it, loves watching the way your pussy swallows his cock, fabric of his pants chafing your thighs.
youâre lost in each other, donât even hear it when deran bangs on the door, yelling for pope to come out, âquit fucking! weâve gotta go!â when pope finishes inside you, poor boy scrambles to get up n button his pantsânot wanting to miss this job as youâre giggling on the bed.
popey love clit!!!!!!!! :( :( popey loves ur clit soo much...
it's his fav stim toy. he crawls down the bed and tugs softly at your panties until he can finally get his lips around it, and then he stays there for hours, just gently sucking and licking at it while his mind goes blank!! your fingers tangle into his dark curls, scratching softly at his scalp. sweet pope is in heaven
his hands grip your thighs, tugging them close around his head because he loves the pressure. it barely even registers as sexual for him because it just makes him feel safe and sleepy :( he loves the feeling of ur clit in his mouth, it's so soft and fun to flick with his tongue. it's just an added bonus that it makes you come
when the two of you are at home, he always has a hand down your panties so he can toy with your sweet little bud. he'll come up to you while you're doing the dishes and just silently shove his hand in ur pants, rubbing your clit while he nuzzles into your hair and nips at your earlobe đľâđŤ and then when your back starts to arch against him and you get distracted, he murmurs "baby, gettin' soap everywhere..." but he's not really mad <3
sometimes when you're in public and he gets stressed u catch pope looking longingly at your pussy, his fingers twitching towards you before he gives a heavy sigh and pulls them back, turning away from you to avoid the temptation :( pls give him a kiss and promise him he can have clit time when you get back home!!!
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