Latina Reader obsessed with jacks freckles cause why the hell not... saw the tiktok and it immediately made me think of Shawn Hatosy's back 😋
Walking to the nurses station with the tablet in your hands just updating your notes on your last patient, you see Robby and Jack chatting. When Robby looks towards you and asks "what do you love about my brother?" You turn to both men, look at Jack "Oh you finally told him?" Jack looks at you cheeks going pink as he says "he saw my phone." He holds up his phone and shows you his lockscreen. It's a picture from last week of you kissing his cheek after both of your shifts ended with having breakfast at the diner near the hospital. You smile at the lockscreen, turn to Robby to finally answer his question. "As a latina i love that white boy cause he reminds me of tortillas. See." You pull out your phone to show him your lockscreen. It's a picture of jack sleeping on his stomach face in-between the pillows, strong freckled back on full display. Robby looks at your phone speechless with just a "huh" leaving his lips, readers perched on the end of his nose. Jacks cheeks are now really red and the blush going down his neck "really honey?" He says sliding a hand down his face. You just giggle and put your phone in you pocket, kiss his cheek with a "love you baby" as you walk towards another room to check on a patient.
What if... pope and jack feel guilty about being pervy but reader shows them how much she loves them and makes them forget all about it
reader being an enabler...freak4freak 🤝 i love it when you're as crazy as they are 🙂↕️
I feel like I haven't written any kind of actually forbidden vibes like usually they're way past the taboo of it but it would be fun to write jack grappling with his feeling for you, his stepdaughter, and your uncle!pope kind of coaxing him to the dark side 🫣 and you're all for it bc your uncle has already shown you how good it can feel to be his so why not help your (step) dad get on the same page too ♡
What if... pope and jack feel guilty about being pervy but reader shows them how much she loves them and makes them forget all about it
reader being an enabler...freak4freak 🤝 i love it when you're as crazy as they are 🙂↕️
I feel like I haven't written any kind of actually forbidden vibes like usually they're way past the taboo of it but it would be fun to write jack grappling with his feeling for you, his stepdaughter, and your uncle!pope kind of coaxing him to the dark side 🫣 and you're all for it bc your uncle has already shown you how good it can feel to be his so why not help your (step) dad get on the same page too ♡
summary: you're J's best friend but you hate his grandma and uncles. you hate going around to their place. but when pope takes you up on the offer to go surfing you realise that maybe he isn't as scary as you thought
content/warnings: NSFW + MDNI! 18+ ONLY! age gap, smurf, unprotected sex, light stalking (it's pope ofc), oral sex (f & m receiving), hidden relationship, light mention of ass play, no use of y/n
wc: 5k
notes: I'm only on season 2 of Animal Kingdom, so apologies for the ooc of it all. pics used just for aesthetic purpose, not a reflection of what the reader looks like.
You hate going over to J's grandmother's house. When he first moved in after his mother died, your parents had banned you from going over there. He was your best friend, so he was more than welcome to hang out at yours after school. But your parents made you promise that you weren't to go over there. And you didn't argue with them. They didn't know you had already been. His uncles creeped you out. They got too close, got too touchy or got too, well, stare-y.
But when you left school and moved out to your own place by the beach, your parents couldn't tell you what to do. And J wanted you to come over - especially to the pool. You argued you could swim in the sea anytime you wanted. But Nicky was always over there as well and you couldn't leave her with those stupid boys. You didn't trust them. And you didn't trust his grandmother.
"How did you get two?" Craig always teases J when both you and Nicky are around.
You always make the same fuckin' face of disgust. You've known J since you two were in kindergarten. You couldn't imagine him as anything more than a brother. He spent a lot of time at yours when his mother was strung out.
You hate spending time at the Codys', but J is your best friend, and you'll do anything for him. Because you worry about him.
One morning you arrive at the house, hoping to catch J early so you two can go surfing. But the place is unusually quiet, and you are greeted not by your friend or his grandmother (thankfully), but by Andrew Cody. They all call him Pope.
Pope has been watching you since you first arrived at the house. He watches how you flinch at the loud noises, how you recoil from his brother's touches. Unlike his nephew's girlfriend, you don't giggle with Smurf. You get in and get out. But he likes watching you. He likes that you sometimes go and sit in J's (his) room when things get too noisy. That you just want to be away from it all.
You're far too sweet to be around him or his family. But he'd like to corrupt you.
"He's not here," he says simply as way of greeting as he stands in the doorway.
"Well do you want the coffee I got for him?" you ask as you hold up the cups you're holding. "I don't know what typa coffee you like but I don't want it t' go t' waste."
Pope's eyes soften immediately, "Do you need money?"
In the last few years, J has started saying shit like that to you. And you don't like it. You're putting yourself through college. You're working in a shitty bar. You don't wanna be like your mother. She never went to college, married your dad right away outta high school. She relied on him for everything. And while you weren't dating and would never date J, you didn't want to rely on him.
"No. I got money. But I don't wanna waste it," you respond before sighing. "Look. If J comes back tell him there's supposed to be a good swell today and I'll be at the beach."
Pope takes the coffee from your hand, his rough fingers brushing over your soft skin, making you shiver involuntarily.
"I can come," he tells you.
You blink in confusion. Pope is a man of few words. You're aware of this from the times you have spent in his presence. Sometimes he'll sit with you and watch TV when J is busy.
"To the beach," he clarifies.
"You surf?" you respond, taking a sip of your iced latte.
He gives you a half smile. A rare sight.
"I'm also from California," he responds simply.
"Okay, well, get your stuff. I don't wanna miss it," you say with a shy smile.
You can't believe that you're willingly spending one-on-one time with one of J's uncles. But all things considered, Pope isn't the worst. Yeah, he's a bit strange. But there's something...calming about him. Maybe it was the time you fell asleep on the couch and woke up to him carrying you to bed. You slightly panicked, but he just placed you down and walked away.
"We'll take my truck," he tells you as he comes back dressed in his wetsuit. He hasn't put it on fully, so he's naked from the waist up. You inhale sharply at the sight of his bulging muscles under his sun-kissed skin. You're not expecting the sight. And you're not expecting your body to react that way. You're not expecting your cheeks to heat up or the heat growing in your stomach.
"Lemme grab my things," you say when you finally catch yourself.
You grab your board and your suit from your car. You're going to change at the beach like you always do. You've never been alone with Pope before. Not like this. He's quiet, stoic, as you make the short trip to the beach. He doesn't play music in his car. He just drives.
"Lemme get changed, and I'll meet you out there," you say to him with a smile.
He shakes his head, "I'll wait."
You bite your lip as you wiggle out of your jean shorts and the crochet shirt you're wearing over your floral bikini top. You don't notice how Pope's eyes wander over your body. He takes you in, hazel eyes examining every inch of you. The way your skin glows under the hot Californian sun. He lets out a soft breath at the way your breasts bounce as you jump to get your wetsuit up.
"Will you zip me up?" you ask him, turning around to offer him access to you.
You both know that you're capable of zipping up your wetsuit alone. But Pope won't argue and gently brushes your hair away from your back, he moves it over your shoulder and then zips you up. He moves closer than necessary so he can inhale your sweet scent.
"Want me to do you?" you ask him nodding to his wetsuit.
Pope gives you that half smile again before shrugging into his wetsuit and turning around to let you zip him up. You brush your fingers up the soft skin of his back and you watch as the muscles ripple under your touch. You shouldn't be doing this. But you zip him up nonetheless and spend the morning in the surf with him. With a man literally old enough to be your father.
Soon it becomes your routine. You and Pope meet on the beach every Friday morning and spend hours surfing and talking. Sometimes Pope will come into the bar during your shift. He nurses a whiskey and tips you far too well. If he comes into the bar, he'll wait for your shift to end to walk you to your car. He's scary. And you don't mind having your little guard dog.
Then, you find him at the entrance of the bar every night as your shift ends. Just so he can walk you to your car. It's just across the parking lot but you like it. Sometimes he'll sit in your car with you and hear you rant about your shift.
"This is gonna be our last Friday surf," you tell him as he carries both of your boards to his car.
He looks so hurt, like a kicked puppy.
"I go back to college next week," you tell him as you shake the salt water out of your hair. He watches as the water droplets slide down the valley of your breasts. "We can try Saturdays instead? Or Sundays? Unless you're busy?"
"Never too busy for you," he says quickly.
You don't expect to meet Pope Cody on your doorstep on your first day of your senior year of college. This time he's holding a coffee, although it's clearly one he made at home as it's in a mug. You can't help but smile at him.
"I thought you might want a ride to school," he says as he looks at you over his sunglasses.
"And how am I meant t' get home?" you respond as you take a sip of the coffee he made you. Just how you like it.
"You call me and I'll come get'cha," he responds.
So this is how the first semester goes. Pope Cody is your personal chauffeur, your bodyguard and your surf partner. He's become a closer friend to you than J. And J notices. Finally. It just took the better part of the year.
J has started to notice that you don't mind coming over for parties anymore. But when you're there, you're more often than not with Pope. Pope will bring you over a drink. Pope will watch you as you speak to whatever girls have been stupid enough to come over. Pope will sit by you when you're sick of standing. And Pope will go inside with you when you get chilly or bored with his brothers being obnoxious.
And J doesn't like it. When the fuck did you become best friends with the scariest of his uncles?
You and Pope are whispering together in the kitchen. He's got new wax for his board and offers to do yours too. You nod, telling him to come around later that evening.
"What are you two talkin' about?" J asks with a little huff on his face.
"Surfin'," you respond with a shrug before you walk out to the pool.
"You screwin' her or something?" J hisses at his uncle.
Pope just looks at his nephew down his nose and walks away following you out to the pool with a towel for when you come out of the water. He's not going to rise to that. And he doesn't want J to know he has been fantasising about you since that first day on the beach. He doesn't want J or you to know that he's been watching you sleep for months. You should get better locks on your apartment door. You look so pretty when you sleep.
You also talk in your sleep. One night as he sits in the corner of your room, you start to whimper. He presumes you're having a nightmare until he hears you whimper his name. Not Pope, the monkier his family gave him. No, you whimper Andrew.
Oh, Andrew, yes! Please!
He had no choice but to grab a pair of your panties. Used panties. He inhales your scent before shoving them in his pocket. He breathes them in as soon as he gets to his own bedroom and jerks off into his hand. Thinking of the way you moaned his name in your sleep.
And he needs to figure out a way to hear it from you for real.
Since J has been an asshole, you've gotten more touchy with Pope. Not when Smurf is around though. You're not that stupid. At first, he's worried that you're doing it to make J jealous. But you'll hug Pope as greeting when he arrives at your apartment. No audience, just you and him. You brush your hand up his arm when he's in the kitchen making a drink while his brothers make noise by the pool. But his favourite thing is when you sit on the same lounger as him by the pool. You're not bold enough to climb into his lap. But you'll sit by him, offer to put sun cream on him. You always ask him to do your back and shoulders.
Sometimes after you settle yourself between the V of his thighs...only sometimes when his brothers aren't around you'll lie back on him. Relaxing against the hard muscle of his stomach.
These moments get added to Pope's fantasies when he's alone with his thoughts at night. The way you shudder under his touch, how soft your skin is. He knows each of your bikinis and he has his favourites. He loves how you wear your bright floral ones when you surf with him. But you go for softer colours when you're poolside with his family. His favourite is a white one that becomes almost sheer when you're in the water. But he doesn't like when his brothers are around to ogle you in it.
"Seriously," J asks you one night as you sit in Deran's bar. "What is going on with you and Pope?"
You look down at your glass and shrug, "You're always doing bullshit. We started surfing together. That's it."
"I heard he brings you to college too. And work?" J pushes.
"What? You got people spying on me? Should I call you Smurf?" you snap.
You don't need this third-degree bullshit. Not from J, who dragged you into this family.
"I even heard he stays over at your apartment," J continues.
"Yea, a few times. He's my friend, J. I don't need you to monitor everyone. Would you be this wound up if it were Craig or Derran?" you ask him.
"It's weird! He's my fuckin' uncle. He was in prison! He's dangerous!" J continues. "And he's old."
You throw your hands up and slam your drink down in one swallow.
"I don't need this bullshit, Joshua. You didn't give your girlfriend this sorta cross examination. Even after she started fuckin' your uncle," you hiss before you storm out.
You don't expect to walk into the wall of thick muscle that is Andrew Cody outside the bar. How did he know you were here? How did he know that you needed him?
"Hey, sugar, you okay?" he asks, steadying you by gripping your waist with his huge, rough hands. You can feel the heat radiating through the flimsy little skirt you wore out.
Pope wonders if you wore this for his nephew. Or some other shithead.
"I just needa go home," you finally answer him.
"Get in the truck," he tells you, firmly.
You just nod your head, the tone he uses goes straight to your core. You press your thighs together and get into his truck. He watches as your skirt rides up and he sees the sweet little floral panties you're wearing. They remind him of the bikinis you love. But seeing this is so much more intimate. Especially because he knows that you didn't mean for him to see it.
Pope is in two minds about going into the bar and beating the shit out of whoever has upset you and going straight to you. But when he sees your face, so open and needy in the truck waiting for him, he crumbles. He goes straight to you.
He drives you home, in silence once again. You're used to it. And you relish it. You needed the quiet. When he parks up, you turn to look at Andrew Cody. Really look at him. His eyes drop after a second of meeting your big eyes.
"Come in, Andrew," you whisper.
He doesn't need to be told twice. He follows you up to your apartment. He's been in your apartment before. By invitation as well as by his own volition. But tonight things are different. Maybe it's because everyone already presumes you're sleeping together. Maybe it's because you're sad and frustrated. Or maybe it's the tension, the touching, the longing glances over the past few months. But you lunge yourself at him. You kiss him hard and messy and desperate. And he kisses you back, tentatively at first but then he gets more desperate. The kiss is all teeth and tongue, you even taste blood as you both devour each other's mouths.
You pull away, "Fuck, Andrew. We shouldn't do this."
You're already so entangled in the Cody family. If you do this. If you cross this line, you'll become one. You know that if you let Pope have you, you'll be ruined. No one else will stand a chance.
"Baby," he growls, pulling you back into a kiss. And you just give in.
You pull at his shirt, needing to see him, needing to feel him against you. His hands are already under your skirt, palming at the flesh of your ass. The two of you are as desperate as each other. You're stumbling around your apartment. Clothes being thrown everywhere...even though Pope wants to fold everything in the back of his mind. But you're pulling him into your bedroom. You fall back onto your bed with his mouth over your breasts. You have no idea when you lost your bra. When Andrew had undressed you to just your floral panties.
You squirm under him as he bites over the swell of your breasts. He's leaving marks that he'll see the next time you go surfing. And he can't lie; he's getting off on the thought alone. You gasp as you feel him rip the fabric of your panties from your body. He lifts them to his face and inhales your sweet scent. A scent he's become addicted to. He grips your thighs and drags you up so you're balancing on your shoulders. He dives into your pussy like a man starved. And he is. He hasn't been dreaming about this for months. At his first taste of you, he cries out in pure desperation. You taste like fucking heaven. He doesn't want to muddy the experience with his fingers. He wants to drink you up. And you let him as he palms at the flesh of your thighs keeping you locked close to him.
You start to squirm harder against him as your orgasm starts to build. You've been dreaming about this moment for so long. But this is so much better than you could have imagined. You cum with a strangled cry, saying his name like a mantra.
Andrew. Andrew. Andrew.
He almost cums in his pants just at the way you moan his name like that. It's even sweeter than how he imagined it.
Pope has had issues getting hard in the past but ever since he started surfing with you, he's been hard enough to pound nails almost constantly.
"Wanna see you," you whisper as he lays you back on your bed. Your voice is still shaky from your orgasm; your whole body feels like an exposed nerve. But you're not done with him. Not a chance. Not when you've finally got him.
Andrew shucks his boxers off and your eyes go wide. You have no idea how he's going to fit inside you. He's huge.
"You okay, sugar?" he breathes, stroking your cheeks.
"You're really big," you confess. Sure, you've seen the print of him against his wetsuits, but you guessed there was fabric and water in the mix. But no...he's just...huge.
Andrew ducks his head shyly, "What? Those other boys were lacking?"
You blush bright red.
"Um...there were no other boys," you finally confess.
Pope's eyes go wide. He looks like the cat who's got the cream. He's going to be your first. He's gonna be the only person who has ever had you.
He kisses you now desperately. He grips the base of his cock, guiding the blunt head of his weeping cock to your entrance. He teases your clit first with his tip. You let out the sweetest little moans for him. And he's not even inside you yet. You're already panting and squirming for him. You're intoxicating, and he's already addicted to you.
Finally, he pushes into you. He has to squeeze his eyes shut at how tight you are. Pope has never been a gentle man. But he's being gentle for you. He'll always be gentle for you. When he finally bottoms out in you, your nails dig into his shoulders. They leave little half moons between his freckles.
"You're so tight, sugar," he breathes, his lips kissing over the shell of your ear.
You just nod, not sure you can form words. You're just so full of him. And when he starts rocking his hips you swear you see heaven. You've never felt this good in your life. Your body is on fire. His hands grip your hips and then slowly begin to explore the rest of your body. He grips your breasts, rough, pulling and flicking your nipples without rhythm. He then slides his hands down your arms, gripping your wrists and dragging them over your head. You both groan as he stretches your body out for him.
His thrusts get faster, harder, rougher. Andrew tried to be gentle, but fuck he needs to carve a path through you. He needs to make you his. No one else has had you and no one else will after he's finished with you. You're his. And only his.
"'m close, Andrew," you whine out as the headboard slams against the wall.
He's pumping in and out of you like a man possessed. The sound of skin on skin fills the room. It's animalistic. It's raw. It's fucking messy. And you cum without another warning. You scream out like a banshee as your orgasm rips through you.
Your pussy grips his cock like a vice and he has to stutter to a stop. He can't move you're so fucking tight, your cunt convulsing around his cock. And fuck, it's the prettiest fucking sight. Andrew presses his forehead against yours as you pull an orgasm from him. He fills you with thick, hot ropes of cum. The release feels like heaven. You swear it spurs on a third orgasm...or it could just be aftershocks from your last one. But it feels so good.
You lay tangled in each other's arms for what feels like hours. His cum seeps out of you and down your legs, cooling against your skin.
Finally, Pope gets up and grabs a wet cloth to clean you up.
"We can't tell Smurf," you say, at the same time as he says, "Smurf can't know."
At least you're on the same page. You both know that Smurf doesn't like it when her boys are distracted. She'll allow it for a time. But not for long. Especially if she sees their loyalty wavering. You're not stupid, you know she did something to Cath.
"Stay," you breathe, running your fingers through Andrew's auburn curls. You love the grey that's appeared by his temple, the greys that pepper his stubble.
You can't help but kiss over his chin and jaw. You give him a little nip as you do. This elicits a rare chuckle from Andrew 'Pope' Cody.
Your relationship with Andrew doesn't change much...bar the sex. The sex is incredible. Mind-blowing. You spend days in bed with him. You've started to wonder if you're a sex addict. Andrew soothes you, telling you this is very normal. Especially at the start of a relationship.
"Who are you fuckin'?" Craig finally asks you when he sees the hickies scattered over your body when he spots you on the beach one morning.
You've been smart, not flaunting your body over at the Cody house now that Andrew won't stop leaving marks on your skin. You can wear one-pieces, sporty ones that cover most of your chest if J invites you over to swim. Andrew gives you a knowing smirk when he sees your more modest swimwear. Knows that he's the reason.
But now you're in your bikini on the beach, not expecting to see anyone who might ask questions.
"Can't a girl have a lil privacy?" you ask putting your hands on your waist.
"Well no, because ever since I've known you, you've been like a nun or something," he responds as he shakes the seawater out of his hair.
"Just cos I won't sleep with you?" you respond with a roll of your eyes. "Cody boys aren't my type. Sorry, sweetheart!"
You give him a smile over your shoulder as you head back to your apartment.
Cody boys, no. Cody men, on the other hand? Well!
You were smart around the Cody house. You didn't change the way you had gotten closer to Pope. You didn't change how you would share a sun lounger with him. But Pope still acted like your touch freaked him out. He didn't soften into it like he did when you were alone.
You were careful. You were smart.
When you were alone in the kitchen or his bedroom or even just passing each other in the hallway, you couldn't help but press kisses to his jaw, he couldn't help but grip the soft flesh of your ass. Sometimes when you knew the house was empty, you would drop to your knees and take his heavy cock in your mouth. You loved making him feel good, making him feel powerful. You loved tasting him as he unloaded into your mouth. He always came so quickly when you got your mouth on him.
You just couldn't get caught.
Even if Andrew's brothers knew they'd soon tell Smurf. And then she would use that shit against you.
So you think you're being smart. Until you weren't.
J has invited you to a party. But he's distracted, playing stupid games with his uncles in the pool. Smurf is watching like an emperor in the Colosseum watching gladiators fight. She presides over the parties and everyone loves it. You have to contain your eyerolls behind the designer sunglasses Pope got you. No one notices when you go inside. No one except Pope, who, as always, has been watching you like a hawk. He finishes his beer before following you inside. He can't make it obvious.
You're hunting in the fridge for a soda. His eyes zero in on the curve of your ass. He places his hand on your waist and you jump before you realise who it is.
"Andrew," you breathe softly, turning to look at him.
"No one's watching, sugar," he whispers as he leans down to kiss you.
You smirk against his lips, stepping onto the boots he always wears to kiss him deeper. His hands palm at your ass, slipping under your bikini bottoms to grip the full globe of your ass. His thumb brushes lightly over your puckered hole.
"Andrew," you scold, pushing him away gently.
You giggle as you drop down to your knees, hidden by the kitchen island, and pull his cock from his swim shorts, taking him in your hot mouth. Andrew has to stay still as you work over his dick without being caught.
One thing leads to another and you're in his bedroom trying to stay quiet as he ploughs into you. He's got you on your hands and knees, on the floor because the bed is too noisy. You learn this when you try to ride him but the mattress springs are screeching. So you let the carpet burn into your flesh as Andrew fucks you. He's already made you cum twice on his face. He clamps a hand over your mouth when you cum, muffling your desperate cries of pleasure. He has to bite down on your shoulder to stop his grunts when he fills you with his cum.
Pope knows that you should get dressed and go back out to the party. But he gathers you in his arms and brings you to his bed.
"Just for a minute," you tell him, knowing that he loves post-sex cuddles. He's never been held, not really. And you intend to fix that. You cuddle him whenever you can. You'll always have you arms wrapped around him when you're alone.
What you don't expect is to wake up to the sun filtering in. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
"Andrew! Andrew!" you hiss, trying to wake him up. "Andrew fuckin' Cody!"
Smurf is always awake so fucking early. You have no intention of her finding the two of you. You pull your clothes back on. Swearing when you can't find your bikini top. You were only wearing a beach cover-up when Pope accosted you in the kitchen. So you can't just wander around like this. That's why you decide to grab one of Pope's black t-shirts. It doesn't hide the fact that you're not wearing a bra. But if you can get out of the house before you meet...
"Smurf!" you say as you walk outside. You thought you could sneak out the back. But of course, you can't.
"You stayed the night," she notes, her eyes dropping down to the fact you're clearly not wearing a bra and then to the carpet burn on your knees.
Interesting.
"Sorry I got a bit overwhelmed by the party and I musta passed out in J's room," you lie.
"In Pope's room," she points out. "And you're wearing Pope's shirt."
"Nothing gets by you, Smurf," you say with a smile. "I was wearing a cover-up and it just didn't seem appropriate in the light of day. Look, I should go. I have work."
Smurf immediately turns to the go to the bedroom but frowns when she finds the room empty. The bed has already been stripped. Oh what a smart girl.
"Pope?" she calls. She's aware that he didn't leave last night either.
Pope has put the bedsheets and some of his clothes in the wash. Everyone knows he's a clean freak. No one will bat an eye at him washing bedding that some girl slept in. Obviously without him.
"You didn't go home last night," she says when she finds him.
He just grunts, "I took a walk on the beach. Couldn't sleep. Came back this morning."
Smurf's eyes narrow. She doesn't like it when people lie to her. Especially not her eldest boy.
Pope makes sure for the next fortnight that he stays at Smurf's or his place. He still brings you to and from class, still surfs with you. Doesn't change that part of his routine. But he doesn't sleep over. He doesn't alert Smurf to you any more than he has to of how much you mean to him.
"This is my last semester of college," you tell him one afternoon as you lay on the couch. Your head is on his bare chest and he's playing with your hair.
"After that, there's nothing tying us to Oceanside. We could go anywhere," you remind him.
"What about-"
"Don't say her name," you whisper, kissing over his chest. "Your brothers can handle their own shit. They're grown men. You can start fresh."
"Where has good surfing?" he asks, then as he runs his fingers through your hair.
You smile and stretch up to kiss him.
"I think we can figure it out."
a/n: thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! any and all feedback appreciated
it started as a drabble because do you know what? i never see people writing smurf getting what she deserves and then … it was a lot more than a drabble. but hey, it was therapeutic
summary: the clock is ticking for janine cody but you don’t owe her a pardon, she isn’t your family. she is the woman who has been your beloved’s prison guard and torturer all his life …and you won’t let her forget it.
warnings: animal kingdom spoilers and well … death? morally questionable behaviour from reader probably.
It was in the best interests of all the Cody boys to make peace with Smurf before her death, but not yours. Being Andrew’s partner was the privilege of your life and with that honour, you carry the knowledge of what kind of mother Janine Cody was. You know of horrors her younger sons could not dream of. Therefore it was not just your role to hold your love’s hand as he saw his mother one last time; but to never let her know a moments peace before eternal damnation.
Smurf had ruled as Andrew’s judge, jury and executioner but death was the great equaliser. She had lived life believing she was extraordinary, beyond the rules of life. Now she was fading into nothing. Helpless in the way her sons had been as children, but unlike her, they were pure of heart.
They didn’t let her rot away in a grimy free hospital or choose to dump her without dignity somewhere in the desert like she’d done to Cath. They didn’t take advantage of her dependency as she had done onto them and hundreds more vulnerable people.
A fortune was paid for round the clock care in a private suite in a hospital that looked more like a hotel. It was the ultimate punishment in some ways, Smurf would die without her boys waiting on her hand and foot. Their lives wouldn’t be put on pause by her demise. They could compartmentalise her dwindling existence away in a box in the back of their troubled minds, knowing they didn’t have to help her themselves.
She wouldn’t go out in a blaze of glory. She’d take her final wheezing breaths in a room where no one would hear them. No tears would be shed at the side of her deathbed. She would simply be handled by strangers and a phone call would be made.
The phonecall came today.
‘Ms. Cody does not have long left,’ a somber nurse announced down the phone, ‘the Doctor believes she will go in the next day. If you wish to say your final goodbyes, now would be the time.’
Andrew had given you the look you spent months preparing for. Wordlessly you collected the keys and started the engine. You picked up Craig and then Deran and Adrian. Renn stayed at home with the baby, Craig refusing to give Smurf the satisfaction of seeing his son, of tainting one final Cody boy before she left. It was a decision you deeply admired, one that felt very poignant especially from someone like Craig. J stayed with them too, complicated feelings aside, he could not watch another mother figure die before his own eyes.
All of you filed silently through the hospital until you reached the room. A room you prayed this would be the last time seeing. Despite his anxiety for the moment to finally happen, you could tell by the stiffness that took over his body, that Andrew was struggling. Back straight like his spine was a rod, rigid once again because of Smurf. For the final time you recited internally.
‘We’ll wait out here,’ you and Adrian assured the boys.
‘Take as long as you need or just say the words and we will leave,’ you added. Your soft palm soothed up Andrew’s spine, hoping your love would radiate through him and relax the pain of Smurf that kept him taut. He hummed at your touch and you let your hand reach the back of his thick neck and turn his face to yours. Placing your forehead against his, you blocked out the universe that existed beyond the world you and your Andy created.
‘This is it, my love,’ you whispered, ‘say everything or say nothing. Do what feels right. Put yourself first for once. And I will be here, forever Andy.’
Andrew inhales and exhales, letting the scent of you fill his lungs. The smell of home.
‘Forever,’ he murmurs and finally lets his hands relax from their fixed position at his side. Taking your cheeks between them and kissing your forehead.
Before they open the door, you force all four of those big grown men into a group hug.
‘I love you all,’ your words are muffled by whoever’s chest you’re crushed into.
Then finally, they do it, they step into a room with Smurf for one final time. You catch her as the door stays open as they file on through. The Smurf you knew, the mystic figure she painted herself as had already dissipated into myth. Now she was just a sickly woman, bed bound and forgettable.
Her eyes bore into yours for a moment before the door hissed shut and separated you two once again.
‘She’s finally going to be gone, isn’t she?’ Adrian marvels as the two of you are left behind.
‘I can’t believe it’s going to be over,’ you reply with the same dazed tone. You both slip into silence for a minute, picturing the lives you had dreamed off without your partners’ torturer.
‘She’s literally there, just beyond that door, dying,’ Adrian stifles a dry laugh, ‘and still all I can think about is how much I hate her.’
A laugh that matches his, leaves your own lips, because it’s true, you feel the same.
‘I hate her too, more than I ever thought possible. I never thought I’d understand why people kill until I met her.’
Adrian nods and squeezes your hand. Both of you know all too well how relevant that realisation is. Knowing every twisted action Smurf caused the people you love to commit. His thumb, tough from labour, runs across your fingers until it catches something. He pauses and lifts your hand up to observe, turning it over in his own.
‘You’re wearing it. You’ve never warn it in front of her before,’ he observes.
The rock that sits proudly on your ring finger sparkles in the fluorescent lights, like something otherworldly in this setting. It had taken you several painstaking minutes to reply to Andrew when he presented it to you on one knee. Words knocked out of you, not just because of his proposal, but because the ring he had laid bare before you was unlike anything you’d ever seen.
He admitted to spending most of his cut for from the cursed bank job that saw him behind bars, on it. It was the first time he had ever touched that money, it had previously felt tainted. But Andrew confessed it felt right to spend it on the ring, because despite the horror of those years locked up, only now did it stop haunting him, as he viewed it as putting him in the direction leading to you.
After that confession, you bawled your eyes out, repeating the word ‘yes’ and your heart squeezed tight for the millionth time at Andrew’s ability to say the most beautiful words as if they were fact.
But Adrian was right, you had never worn your ring in Smurf’s vicinity. Neither you or Andrew had told her you were engaged. Not wanting the inevitable outburst she would still manage despite her illness, to attach itself to your happiness. It had almost felt like a perfect punishment, to hide from her the happiness that could exist amongst the Codys.
‘Oh my god,’ he hissed, ‘you’re telling her aren’t you? You’ve got a plan - I know it!’
There was something about Smurf that had awoken something dark and maniacal in you. It reared its head when Andrew opened the darkest parts of his heart to you. Once you discovered what a mother had done to her own son, the most tender soul you ever met. How she’d tortured and twisted up the man you loved, who already had been born into this earth with such a delicate nature. You weren’t proud of what she brought out in you but you had made peace with it. Accepted that this darkness would protect all that you loved.
‘There are things she did, Adrian… to Andy. Things he endured that no one knows about,’ your voice trembles as you say the words out loud, ‘and he is too good, still, to hurt her like she deserves.’
It’s hard to keep the tears at bay, they come up fast and hot. Spilling down your cheeks like lava. All you can picture when you say the words are Andrew when he was young. You’ve seen the pictures, you treasure them and taught him to do the same. Faded photos of his sweet freckled face and wild auburn curls, his smile small as he clings to Julia.
Beautiful Julia, who you never got to meet, who never got to see her twin brother get his happy ending. You feel she is with you somehow, a kindred spirit in your wicked hatred for Smurf. What you are going to do is as much for her as it is for Andy.
Adrian bundles you into his arms and rocks you. The mutual experience you, him and Ren have shared in loving the Cody boys has often kept you sane. ‘Do it,’ he confesses into your hair, ‘whatever you’re planning, do it for all of us.’
When the three boys leave the room, they find you and Adrian leaning against each other, sat on the floor. The pair of you jump up when you suddenly see three sets of feet infront of you. All three brothers look exhausted. You take Andrew and Craig’s hands in yours as Adrian wraps his arm around Deran.
‘Are you guys okay? Sorry, stupid question, I know…’ you mutter.
Craig squeezes your hand before letting it go to rub the heel of his palms into his eyes.
‘Fuuuck,’ he groans, ‘for the first time in forever I wish I still did drugs, man.’
Deran whacks his big brother, ‘Dude!’
Craig brushes off his scolding, ‘You know what I mean!’
The two continue to bicker which feels like a good sign. But you feel Andrew’s eyes, blistering on your skin. When you meet them, it feels like it’s just the two of you in the world. His eyes look red raw, the lines in his face weighing heavier than usual; he’s exhausted, like the knight who finally slayed the dragon but nearly died in the battle.
In a move unusual for Andrew, he makes contact first. His hands gripping yours and bringing them to his firm chest. Under your finger tips, his heartbeat patters hard and fast; fight or flight mode still live in his body.
You breathe in deeply and exhale, knowing his eyes are trained to you. He begins to mimic your steady breathing. And slowly, the patter returns to the strong and steady beat you fall asleep to every night.
‘We can talk about it at home if you want to,’ you offer quietly.
‘Home,’ Andrew repeats like a prayer.
‘Home.’ You reaffirm.
His big hands cover yours that stay rooted to his chest and his brings them to his lips. Gently he kisses them, again and again. Lips brushing against the soft skin the brings him endless comfort, the natural smell of you that soothes his restless soul. The ring on your finger is sharp against him but he welcomes it, a needle the bursts the dark bubble that surrounds him and reminds him you are forever.
‘Before home…’ your voice strains awkwardly, ‘I need to do something.’
Andrew’s brow furrows.
‘I am going to see her, is that okay?’
Everyone is silent now and you catch Adrian’s hesitating eyes.
‘Give me the keys, the rest of us will go sit in the car or go to the cafeteria,’ he interrupts.
‘Cafeteria? I need a fucking smoke,’ Deran grunts.
‘Andy, do you trust me?’ You bring back his attention. He nods, wordlessly.
‘I won’t be long, go with the boys. I just think I need to do this too.’
Andrew doesn’t want you anywhere near Smurf, doesn’t want you to inhale the poison that surrounds her. But he knows you’ve already been exposed to her, understands he never could keep you safe and bundled a million miles away from his family life. He accepts that now, accepts that he didn’t fail to protect you, that you chose it all. Chose him, every single forbidden, cobwebbed corner of his mind.
You took on the pain like it was your own and became his staunchest defender, his haven. He thanks God, thanks Julia, every night when he cannot sleep for sending you to him. So he cannot bring himself to stop you from saying parting words to Smurf, it is the least he can grant you.
‘I love you,’ he says with that stare you know means you’re the only thing occupying his mind.
‘I love you too, endlessly.’
You kiss his lips softly and can tell he’s been biting them nervously. You pass your keys to Adrian, who lets his free hand stroke down your arm in a sign of support.
Just a door stands between you and Smurf, its weight feels heavier than you know it is. With a deep breath and a push, you enter your final battlefield with the woman who should never have gotten the honour of being a mother.
‘Ha, I didn’t think I’d see your face in here,’ she croaks from the bed, ‘you feeling brave now I’m incapacitated?’
Bitch, you think, but you know it’s not worth it.
Smurf looks small, swamped in blankets on hospital bed. Lightyears away from the platinum blonde in towering platform heels who you first met. Her face no longer made up, now pale and chalky. Sickness proved what you believed Smurf always knew about herself - that without her sons to use as guard dogs, she wasn’t invincible.
‘I was never scared of you, Janine,’ you snarled as you got to her bedside.
‘I think you’re bluffing, baby,’ she cackles before her own body interrupts her smugness. She coughs and splutters.
‘And I think you’re dying, Smurf,’ you pass her the oxygen mask that hangs off the side of her bed, ‘and I think you’re fucking terrified.’
The way her grown out acrylics scrabble at the mask in your hand, tells you you’re right. She huffs desperately into the mask, her eyes squeezing tight as she finally catches up on the air. Your hands grip tight to the railings on the side of the bed, knuckles whitening from the grip.
‘So you’ve come to gloat?’ Smurf croaks as she lowers the mask.
‘Maybe,’ you shrug, ‘I think mostly, I wanted to make sure you knew this family would survive without you. That we exist without you, we’ll thrive without you.’
That makes her laugh until she’s hoarse, grabbing again at the mask desperately. You would slap her if she wasn’t so beneath you, if you didn’t learn that violence is what she wants, what her twisted brain can handle. Her voice is muffled by the mask, but you can hear the smugness in her words.
‘Baby, I’ll always be there. Those boys can’t forget me, they’ll always be my boys.’
You shake your head and move your hand slowly and to the side of the bed where she can’t see. Smurf begins to cough again, despite the mask, her head swivels towards you.
Raising your arm, you reveal the tube that runs from the oxygen tank to her mask, clamped tightly in your fist. The ring on your finger is now in her eyeline and light refracting, sparkling all around the room from the lamp at her bedside. It looks like hope cracking through the darkness that naturally surrounds Janine Cody. Her eyes, now panicked in a way you’ve never see before, flick to you and the ring.
‘They’re not your boys,’ you say sternly, ‘you were never their mother, you never earned the right. Andrew raised them, Julia raised them. They belong to each other, never you.’
You see her eyes twitch at you daring to mention Julia’s name, as if it’s a curse. The tube drops from your grip, the gas returning to normal flow, causing her to flounder for it.
For a moment you watch as Smurf regains her breath, waiting for the inevitable vulgar spiel that will leave her lips when she’s ready. The clock ticks aggressively, it’s the only sound beside her breathing. You’re not sure how long you’ve been here now, you hope Andrew and the boys are okay.
‘So,’ she finally starts, ‘it takes his mother dying for you to get what you want from Pope? A ring on your finger? And you think that makes you my replacement, that they’ll be your family?’
It’s a response you should’ve predicted from Smurf. Immediately she sees another woman as a threat to her sadistic matriarchal role. It’s what she did to Julia, Catherine and you, the moment you turned up in Andrew’s life and gave no indication of going anywhere.
‘He proposed before you were ever sick, Smurf.’ It takes her by surprise, you know it’s because it goes against everything she believes Andrew is. Still, sees him as her own Frankenstein’s monster, the creature she created, incapable of real love, only adoration of its master.
‘He didn’t want you to ruin it, like you always do for him. But I want you to know, I want you to know Andrew survived you. That he’s capable of so much love and I pity you for never getting to experience it.’
For once, Smurf looks like she has no retort. In this room, she has no venom to spit, no gun to wield, no threat to make. She is out of moves and there is no where to run and hide.
‘They won’t replace you and they don’t even need me. They have each other and it’s a privilege they let me part of that,’ you continue, your back growing straighter with confidence and pride as you tower over her bedside. And you realise you’re ready to say it, to unveil your hidden weapon to gut the beast.
‘And it’s a privilege to add to that family,’ you proclaim, hands drifting to your stomach, to protect the secret not even Andrew knew about yet.
‘You’re lying,’ Smurf lets out a wet hiss, tears clearly desperate to fall. Your head shakes and your smile beams through her misery.
‘That’s why I came here in here Smurf, not to gloat, not to scream. But to make sure you die knowing there will be a Cody born that will never know your name, your face. That one day, my family will only ever remember it started with three brothers and one sister. That Andrew is going to make the most amazing dad and you’ll never know. And I will give everything to ensure my baby has the life all yours should’ve.’
It feels powerful to say the words you’ve harboured for years, finally aloud. To smite down Janine Cody, mother to mother and know beyond that door is the rest of your life with the love of your life. Before you turn to walk away, you take her hand. It’s cold and small in yours, absent of the rings that used to adorn it.
‘I hope it is peaceful, Janine,’ you admit softly, ‘and I’m sorry for whatever made you choose being this way.’
For a moment, it feels as if she squeezes your hand back. But before you can mull it further, she retracts her touch, composes her face and shuts her eyes. And that’s when you know it is time to go.
The machines surrounding Smurf hum along, her breathing slow but steady. This is it for Janine Cody. The sound of the clock ticks in time with the sound of your shoes on the linoleum until you push the door and step through to the other side.
The air feels lighter back in the corridor, like you’re back in your own world. It takes big arms wrapping around you to notice you’re not alone.
‘Andy?’ You mumble into his chest where he crushes you too, his smell you find so comforting, filling your senses. Detergent, sandalwood and home.
‘My angel,’ his mouth murmurs against your neck where he now buries his face. A drip of wetness trickles down the skin of neck, you’re certain. With effort, you push Andrew back to take in his face. Sharp angles, fine lines and freckles, he’s handsome in ways that makes your breath hitch, every time. Dewdrops run silently down his cheeks.
‘I heard you,’ he whispers.
And you blink.
‘Everything?’ you barely get the word out.
Andrew’s hands travel down your body to your abdomen.
‘Everything,’ he nods, a fresh set of tears shimmer down his face.
‘Oh,’ you smile, choking up as well. Your hands meeting his, over where your little secret is growing.
‘Thank you. Thank you,’ Andrew starts to chant, ‘thank you.’
You stop it with a kiss, the same way he feels you stopped the darkness in his life, the moment he met you.
‘Take us home, my love,’ you utter gently, and Andrew Cody has never heard more welcomed words in all his years.
psst psst: i don’t want to do a series for pope but i am very happy to take requests for these guys! asks are open always
and if you want a series then i have a slow burn jack abbot one here!!
Summary: You have a talk with Robby about your worries and he finally reveals why he is the way he is and accepts that he needs help
Warnings: mentions of COVID and blood
AN: Enjoy and please let me know what you think 💙. Remember to comment and reblog please ! Feedback really does mean everything to us writers :)
“Don’t” Dennis whispered as he gently held your arm back “That’s between them”
“They’re yelling” you said back “It’s getting loud and we’ve still got patients not just that but….I hate when he yells and he’s been on one today, he’s been snappy and weirdly rude and it’s enough. He’s gotta chill out.”
He sighed “Fine if that’s what you want to do”
“If he starts screaming at me too, will you come defend me ?” you teased chuckling at the sudden scarlett blush on Dennis’s cheeks “You might need to handle him Nebraska style Whitaker, lucky for you suddenly you got those buff arms”
“Uh yeah…yeah of course I will” he responded gently with a small laugh “I’ll-I’ll step in if needed but I uh I got hope in you.”
“I got this” you winked at him as you made your way down the hall, leaning into the door to listen before barging in
I cannot let you work in my emergency department until you’re fully capable of doing so. It’s just basic rules.That is not your fucking call !
You’re fucking-A right that’s my call ! I’m trying to protect you and my patients and you know I’m right about this !
Oh ! My department, my patients ! All you fucking think about is yourself ! Do you hear yourself ? You didn’t rat out Langdon for stealing fucking drugs.
No but I kicked him out of this department until he got the appropriate help that he needs and the same goes for you. You got until Monday to let the administration know or I will.
With that you quickly went over to the charting area and acted as if you were busy as Robby walked out visibly upset. You did your best to act distracted but still he walked over to your side as per usual before the end of shift
“Hey” he cleared his throat “You still gonna stop by tonight so I can give you the rundown on what to look after at my place ?”
“Yeah of course” you nodded
“I got an extra helmet if you need a ride, I can wait for you” he gave a small grin
“You don’t even wear a helmet when you ride that thing, suddenly you got an extra ?” you asked
“Maybe I want a companion” Robby shrugged
“I’ll skip on the motorcycle and meet you at your place right after I’m out, that okay ?” you met his eyes
“If you’re willing to wait like 30 minutes then maybe we can just grab a bite together and just head over to mine after, I don’t mind” he said softly
You wanted to say no, especially after the scream session you had just heard but you couldn’t find it in your heart to deny him. Robby was technically your boss but in the short time you had worked as a resident he had grown a weird liking to you.
Sometimes he’d flirt, horribly at that but it was still cute, and sometimes he just liked talking to you about whatever it was that was on his mind up on the roof. You liked listening to him and his stories, it was nice to get moments like that with him. So when he had told you about his sabbatical and how he wanted you of all people to stay in his house and take care of it, you had accepted.
But the last few days had been weird, he was lashing out and being cruel in ways you had never seen him be. It was uncomfortable and unprofessional and you didn’t know what was going on, all you knew was that he had changed and it wasn’t for the better.
“Yes that’s fine” you finally responded “I gotta…I gotta finish these charts and do a last minute check on some people and then I’ll meet you at that diner on 6th street in like an hour ?”
“Sounds good to me, see you in a bit” Robby patted your shoulder and walked away
With that you walked over to the one person who knew what was up, “Dr.Abbott, would it be okay if you and I spoke for a moment ?”
“It’s Jack kid, Jack not Dr.Abbott. Come on, am I that old ?” he smirked
“Sorry…just out of habit I suppose” you grinned “But can we ?”
“I always have time for my favorite resident” he pulled over a chair for you “Talk to me, you finally wanna come over to the dark side ?”
Shaking your head you laughed softly “No no….I mean I don’t think so just yet. I actually would like to talk about Dr. Robby”
“What about him ?” he asked
“Is he…..is he okay ?” you blurted out “I don’t mean to be rude but he’s been really off all day, just snapping and being really condescending and rude towards those who don’t deserve it. I caught him yelling at Dr. Al-Hashimi in a room earlier and that’s not like him. He’d never ever do that to someone knowing people can hear him in that state. It’s like he just doesn’t care anymore and then he’s leaving on this sabbatical on that death bike for 3 months and he asked me to live in his place and take care of it for him and I just…I don’t know. I’m…I’m worried about him.”
Jack sighed “All we can do is hope he comes back in one piece, he’s a grown man who can make his own decisions and while I am also a bit worried I can’t stop him. Dana couldn’t stop him either. Everyone’s worried about him, everyone. I hate that, I hate that he can’t see how worried people are about him but I will say…he’s got a soft spot for you. He cares what you think of him, he thinks about you a lot. You give him hope.”
“We’re not dating or anything” you shook your head “That’s extremely unprofessional”
“You saved him during Pittfest” Jack reminded you “If you hadn’t been there for him that day who knows what he would’ve done”
You looked down at your feet and fidgeted with your hands as you remembered that dreadful day
Pittfest-2024
“There’s so many, there’s so many hurt people” Dennis whispered to you “I don’t know how many more we can handle, I keep having to change gloves because they keep getting soaked in blood, my goggles are too tight and I feel like I can’t see right. I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”
“We’re gonna be fine” you assured him with a gentle caress on his shoulder “Everything’s going to be fine, we’re gonna do our job and save these people and then we can go to my place and watch Gossip Girl and eat that ice cream I was telling you about and you still gotta tell me that story about that horse who kicked your brother in the nuts remember ?”
“Okay…Okay yeah yeah” he nodded feeling a little more assured “You’re right, it’s just one bad day”
“We got this” you said softly
You were trying your best to stay calm and assuring for patients sake but deep down you were feeling it too, it was becoming a lot and seeing everyone else slowly become more and more concerned didn’t help
“Where’s Robby ?” you asked suddenly “He’s the one who knows how to perform this intubation the fastest, I need him”
“He was with Jake” Frank looked at you “Jake’s girlfriend Leah didn’t make it….he’s letting him know”
“Is Jake okay ?” you asked
“Got some minor injuries but he’s okay” he nodded “He’s probably in peds, that’s where he told us to put the bodies for now”
You made your way over and stopped in your tracks as you opened the door and saw Robby sitting down with his knees to chest quietly chanting a prayer under his breath as he rocked back and forth silently cryingThe sight in front of you was a lot to handle and you were quite sure you’d also break down like him but you knew you couldn’t. Robby had always been strong for all of you, assuring you of you of your abilities and putting your safety above all else and now it was your turn
You walked over and sat next to him, placing a hand on his and gently tightening your grip on his much rougher hand “I’m scared too”
His eyes quickly lifted as he met yours and with no other words he hugged you, more so slightly crushed you as his arms wrapped around you tightly. You hugged him back and leaned your head on top of his as sobs racked through his body
“I hate this part of the job and I wish this kind of thing didn’t exist. I wish we could just help those who were sick or didn’t have severe or traumatic accidents or events happen to them. Today’s a day we’re all gonna have a hard time forgetting but eventually things will be okay even if they don’t seem that way. We just gotta get through today, that’s all. We gotta take it step by step and right now the first step is going back out there and doing what I and everyone else knows you can do then we can take the next step. I have hope.”
Robby lifted his head and nodded wiping his eyes as he watched you get up, “Come on, let’s go out there together” you offered your hand “I’ll be with you, we can do this together”
“Together” he nodded with a sniffle as he took your hand and got up “Um sorry about that just….Jake got upset and it was a lot and I-”
“There’s no need to ever say sorry for feeling normal emotions” you assured him “I just got worried I didn’t see you is all”
“You….you were worried about me ?” he asked
“I was” you nodded “I thought something had happened to you, I got scared for a bit”
“I’m okay” he looked at you “I’ll always be okay”
“And it’s okay if you’re not either” you said back as you retied his gown for him and handed him a new pair for gloves
“How do I tell him I don’t want him to leave ? How do I tell him that he needs help ?” you asked “How do I do that without him shutting me out or telling me I’m wrong ?”
“He needs tough love and if it comes from you then he’ll know he needs it” Jack nodded “He holds you on a pedestal. He constantly talks about how good you are and how you could run this place already, he thinks the world of you okay ? So I say this with all the love in the world, tell him what he needs to hear because if it’s coming from you, he’ll listen.”
“Okay, okay I will” you nodded standing up “You’re right”
“And one more thing” Jack looked at you “Give him a chance, you two would be good together”
You felt the heat rush to your cheeks and simply laughed nervously “Yeah…yeah we shall see about that”
By the time you made it out of the hospital and to the diner Robby was sitting nursing a cup of coffee and plate of pancakes, standing up as soon as he saw you “There you are”
“I’m sorry I’m late” you apologized “I meant to text you”
“You’re good” Robby nodded as a waitress brought you a menu
“Coffee and that breakfast scramble with extra cheese please” you grinned “So after we finish here and head to yours you’re gonna get on the road ?”
“Yup” he nodded “Perfect time to start, not too late so the roads are empty”
"Just you and the motorcycle ?” you asked
"Mhm." he nodded
"No destination ?”
He shrugged "I'll figure it out."
You watched him for a long moment "You keep saying you just need a break."
He chuckled quietly "There it is, the lecture."
"It's not a lecture." you looked at him leaning forward “This isn't one of the other residents or Dana worrying because you skipped lunch."
"This is me." you whispered “You aren't okay."
“I’m fine” Robby answered
"No." you shook your head "You're traumatized. The COVID years almost destroyed you."
"I'm still standing." he shrugged
“You still hear the alarms, you still remember every patient you couldn't save and you still blame yourself for not being able to save Adamson but it’s not your fault. You haven't slept normally in years. You work every extra shift they offer because going home is worse. You need a psychologist." you whispered "You need medication. You need to stop pretending taking your motorcycle across the country is somehow going to fix what happened."
His voice stayed level as he sipped his coffee “It’ll help me”
“It’ll distract you” you said back “You need real help”
He look at you then, “I know what you’re doing”
“I’m trying to keep someone I care about alive” you whispered “You haven’t been living in years. You don't get to keep telling everyone you're fine because you're the attending. Robby, listen to me when I tell you this” you reached for his hand “You need time away from medicine, you need to stop making the hospital the only place you exist.”
“You don’t understand” he said suddenly
“Then explain it me, I’ll listen” you nodded
He looked out the window at his motorcycle then back into his untouched coffee "It's bigger than that."
"Then tell me” you said a little too fast “I mean if you want to of course….no pressure.”
His laugh came out broken, “You really want to know ?"
"Yes."
He rubbed both hands over his face and for a long time he didn't speak as if he was gathering the courage to speak "My mom left me, I was only 8 years old." his eyes stayed fixed on the table "She walked out without even saying goodbye or leaving a note” he swallowed "She just...wasn't there anymore."
You stayed silent as you digested the news he had just revealed, still keeping his hand in yours
"My grandmother took me in." Robby smiled sadly “God…she tried so so hard. She loved me, I know she did but kids aren’t stupid, I knew” he looked at you “I knew I wasn’t supposed to be there, I knew I was another mouth to feed. I knew she had to cancel a lot of things for me.”
“You were just a little boy, a child” you said softly
“I still knew” he rasped out “I knew she was tired because of me, I knew people looked at me like I was the responsibility nobody wanted. So I figured it out young.”
“What do you mean ?” you asked confused
"If nobody wanted me..." his eyes became glossy as he stared ahead "I'd become useful. I got good grades in school, never anything lower than a B. I never caused trouble even when I was getting bullied by other kids. I always let them tell me whatever it was they’d tease me for, usually my clothes or the fact that I had no friends”
You squeezed his hand “Children can be cruel, I’m sorry about that”
"I worked when I was able to. I was a tutor in high school for math and science and I worked at the local grocery store warehouse stocking at night and taking weekend or night shifts nobody else wanted. I volunteered everywhere I could so my college applications could look good so when I got in I got into medicine” he whispered "Because when someone needs you..." he pointed toward the hospital in the distance "They don't leave."
"When I'm there, I’m needed” his voice broke as another tear escaped before he wiped it away angrily "They call me, they need me. I can fix something for someone, I matter. But the second I go home..." he whispered “I’m just….I’m me. I’m not Dr. Robby, I’m Michael…the kid who got left behind without even a goodbye…and that’s the part that’s killing me” he met your eyes “COVID just made it worse”
“The isolation” you whispered “The constant working without being to have a proper breather or have a moment to collect yourself”
"I couldn't save them so I stayed.” Robby nodded "I worked more because maybe the next one would live but they kept dying. My mentor who you guys know as Adamson was sick, he got sick pretty fast when covid happened. He was more than my mentor though, he was like my father almost”
“He took me in quickly when I first got here years ago, he’d invite me to dinners with his wife and kids. He’d hangout with me any free time we had, he gave me that family bond I so badly needed and….and one day I had to take away his machine to give to another little girl who I wanted to save so badly. I knew it’s what he’d want me to do and it killed me to do it to him but I put myself in that doctor mentality and even though it was the right thing, it wasn’t enough. She died too. They both died.”
You quickly wiped your eyes, you had seen the picture of Adamson on the wall and you had heard how kind and caring he was towards everyone at the hospital but what you didn’t know was just how much of an affect he had on Robby “He loved you, he loved you like his own and you loved him”
“When he was put on a ventilator his sister had sent us pictures to put by him so he could see them in case he woke up, one was with his wife and kids and grandkids and her and the other was one with me” he smiled sadly “It was one someone took of us one day when things were calm for once, I had no idea he had it framed in his home office.”
“Robby, he saw you as his own. You weren’t just some colleague to him, you were so loved by him. He adored you” you whispered
“And then he died” he whispered “He died, he left and at the end of the day I was the one who made the call and I just…..I couldn’t handle it, I still can’t because at the end of the day I’m 52 years old and I’m still spending every day trying to prove that someone should’ve kept me and that I only matter because of my job. Because I need to save people
Your eyes welled up with tears and you shook your head “No that’s not true, it’s not.You aren't valuable because you save lives, you save lives because you're valuable."
It was enough to make him slightly breakdown again so you moved to his side of the booth and put an arm around his shoulders, just being in the moment with him as he let out the grief and emotion he was holding onto
When he finally lowered his hands, his voice was barely audible "What if I don't know who I am without the hospital ?"
“Then we figure it out” you said gently “I can help you”
"I'm really tired." he whispered
"I know."
"And I don't want to keep living like this."
You squeezed his hand again "Then let's make sure you don't have to”
“You have a lot of hope for someone your age” he responded with a small grin
“It’s all you can do” you responded holding his hand
thinking about how animal kingdom definitely ends with pope living and running away to become a lumberjack in the pacific northwest and has a baby with a kind girl he meets up there who embraces his quirks and doesn't know anything about his past life :) and this is canon and real, trust me, no need to watch the last episode this is 100% what happens :))))
title: rose colored lens
dynamic: stepbrother!pope x stepsister!reader
tw: dd:dne, rape/non-con (bc of somnophilia), fauxcest (use of the words "brother" and "sister" in bed, oop-), glasses kink, pleasure dom!pope, oral (fem receiving), forced orgasms, fingerfucking, squirting, unprotected sex, breeding kink, humiliation/degradation kink, he puts your panties in your mouth to keep you quiet, hate sex (you hate him, he loves you lol)
context: your older brother heard you like men who wear glasses.
wc: 2.0k
a/n: hope you guys like this format for when I just get into the mood to write smut without any set up lol!
hope it's a hot read ♡
Silver frame. Rimless. Oval shaped glasses.
That's what is pressing an indent against your thigh, stirring you awake from the cold feeling of lenses on your hot flesh.
But why is your skin so warm?
It could be because your stepbrother's tongue is dragging up and down the length of your wet pussy.
Yep, definitely that…
But when you go to cuss him out, there's fabric in your mouth muffling your words.
What the—
“Hush, baby sister.” Pope whispers, his breath tickling your clit. “It's still early. Keep your panties in your mouth or you'll wake everyone.”
Ugh. You hate the word panties. You know he's saying it to piss you off.
This fucking guy.
Ever since your dad married Smurf, you've been stuck living with this grown ass man who is technically your brother now. And what does your “brother” like to do?
Sneak into your room. Eat you out. Make you cum until you see stars in your vision.
You fucking despise Pope.
Because your body likes him a little too much…
You bite down on the fabric in your mouth, which is damp from your saliva, clenching your jaw tight in hopes you won't cum from his tongue swirling around your clit.
He has done this too often for you not to react. Your body is so familiar with the pleasure he can give you that it yearns to give in. Even though you're trying your hardest not to.
“Your clit is twitching like crazy.” He flicks it with the tip of his tongue. “Holding back on me? It's okay to cum. Let your big brother make you cum real hard.”
You hate when he announces what he's going to do. Because as much as you brace yourself for the inevitable, you still unravel completely the moment he touches you just right.
You claw your nails into your sheets as you attempt to resist the orgasm that threatens to consume you. But when he seals his lips around your swollen clit, you're done for.
You cum right then and there, your toes curling, your back arching, your hips grinding against his face, his glasses pressing into your skin with every uncontrollable movement.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. You can't let him keep going so you spit out your underwear from your mouth and open your mouth, only to clamp your hand over it before you moan too loudly from him stuffing his fingers deep inside your pussy all of a sudden.
You say, under your breath, through gritted teeth, “I'm going to fucking kill you, Pope.”
That makes him laugh, a low kind of chuckle, deep from the belly. “Maybe I'll kill you first from how hard you're going to cum on my fingers.”
“Stop—” You bite down on your palm when he curls his fingers, teasing that spot by your womb that has your hips bucking.
It only gets worse when Pope starts kissing your inner thighs, purposefully pressing his cold glasses against your soft skin. All this contrasting stimulation has your head spinning.
“No, please.” You beg to no avail. You know he won't stop.
Pope loves when you act like you aren't enjoying his touch. He loves that your body is honest.
He loves you, his sweet little sister, more than you'll ever know.
Because how could he not love such a readily available pussy for whenever the urges strike him?
He is thankful to Smurf for bringing you into his life.
Now, he just needs to keep you in the palm of his hand.
Which is easy, considering how close you are to squirting all over his fingers.
He finds it so cute how much you try to deny yourself. He doesn't even have to edge you. You do all the work for him.
“Can't you see that your big brother is trying so hard to make you feel good?” He thrusts his fingers into you at a rougher pace now, his teeth sinking into the meaty part of your thigh, leaving a bite mark indented into your skin. You nearly cum just from that but you somehow hold it in. He's impressed. “My silly little sister, always running away from the pleasure. Just cum already, will you?”
You shake your head but your body reacts differently, your pussy squeezing his fingers so tightly that he is tempted to pull them out and stick his cock in. But he doesn't.
Pope is a patient man. Always has been.
He has waited a long time for a beautiful little sister like you to play with.
He has been having too much fun watching the way your eyes widen when his fingers slow to a stop, just resting inside of you.
You're gasping for air, so sure you were about to be forced to cum that your body hasn't relaxed yet. Pope lulls you into a false sense of security.
Because the moment you think he might actually be stopping, he rams his fingers into you at a pace that has you screaming into the palm of your hand and drenching his hand from how hard you came.
Tears stream down your face from the humiliation of having squirted that hard. Especially when you see Pope pull off his frames, wiping your slick off the glass onto your lower belly.
“Good girl. You came so hard all over my face, you even got it on my glasses.” He smirks at the horror in your expression. “Aw, don't be embarrassed. It's okay to squirt in your brother's fingers. As long as you do it on my cock, too.”
That's when you start to scramble away from him. You are not letting this motherfucker, this sister fucker, fuck you.
That's not happening.
It's definitely not—
You muffle a scream into your pillow when Pope flips you onto your stomach and proceeds to stuff his cock into your pussy from behind. You kick at him to no avail, unable to stop him from sinking every thick inch of his cock deep inside of you. This angle has you reeling. He's so big, splitting you apart, the pressure of him so intense that you're starting to tense up too much at your core.
You're going to cum again. From getting fucked by your brother.
What the hell is wrong with you?
Why is life so fucked up?
And why is Pope kissing up the length of your back, letting you feel his glasses scrape against your skin, sending shivers through your whole body?
When he gets to the shell of your ear, he whispers, “I heard you like men who wear glasses. Do they look good on your big brother, baby sister?”
“Fuck no.” You lie.
That draws out that chuckle from him again. “God, you're such a cute liar.”
You almost shred your sheets under your nails when his hips slam against yours, pounding his cock deeper into you. He repeats this motion until you're convulsing beneath him, your body desperate to release the tension coiling up inside from every harsh thrust.
“Not inside, please not inside!” You cry out when you cum from his rough fucking, wetness dripping down your thighs, fear consuming you because you know he's close. “Please, Pope, you know I'm not on birth control—”
“I know.” He nips at your earlobe and you can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “that's why I'm going cum inside of you. Fuck a baby into you. So you have to explain to dad that you let your big brother fuck you pregnant.”
“No, I can't get pregnant!" You definitely can't tell your dad anything. He'll think you're sick, that you're depraved and disgusting for cumming so easily on your brother's cock.
“You will.” Pope leans down, resting his face against the nape of your neck, pressing his glasses hard enough into it that you're sure it's marked you. “Now enjoy getting filled up with your brother's cum.”
He grabs your hips and just starts fucking you relentlessly until you're cumming every time the tip of his cock pounds against the entrance of your womb. Your pussy is milking his cock beautifully.
Pope pumps more cum into you than he ever has before, enough that some leaks out of you as he's pushing it into you. He lets out a sigh of pure delight when he's done, knowing just how full you must feel.
You bite back a whimper when he pulls out of you, forcing more of his cum to leak out of you when he does. He shakes his head at the sight of it dripping out. You need to keep it inside if you're going to have his baby!
So, Pope dips three of his fingers inside of you, drawing a gasp from your lips. “What are you doing!”
“Making sure my cum gets into your womb.” His fingertips graze that spot deep inside that has your knees shaking. “I need my little sister's pussy to tighten up for me.”
“Fuck you.” You spit out, anger lacing your every word. “I fucking hate you, Pope.”
“Mhmm.” He just nods at your defiance, curling his fingers at a different angle, teasing you exactly how you need him to in order to cum all over his fingers. “You definitely seemed to hate that.”
“I do.” You do hate that he can force orgasms out of you without any effort. “I don't want to cum anymore, please.”
“Cuddle with me and I'll stop.” His words startle you.
“Excuse me?” You can't have heard him right.
“I said cuddle with me and I'll stop making you cum.” He repeats himself.
“W-Why would you want to—” You squirm when he starts fucking you with his fingers faster all of a sudden so you just shout, “okay, okay, I'll cuddle with you, just fucking stop, please!”
Pope doesn't stop. You should've known better than to trust him. He makes sure this last orgasm he forces out of you is so intense that your vision almost blacks out completely.
“That's it, good girl, cum a lot for your big brother and then we'll cuddle in my bed.” He gently guides you through the remainder of your orgasm, the pleasure searing your skin so hot, your breaths coming out so heavy.
You're spent by the time his fingers finally slip out of you, your body feeling oddly hollow when they're gone. You shouldn't miss the feeling of being filled, especially not by him. But you can't help it.
Your body enjoys his company more than it should.
Pope grabs your hand and yanks you off the bed, leading you to the bathroom that connects your room with his. He lets you get cleaned up while he grabs your sheets off the bed and goes to throw them in the wash. He'll stay up until the laundry is done so no one will know how hard you came all over your sheets because of him. Like he always does for your sake.
He sees you standing at the mirror when he gets back from putting everything in the wash, staring at yourself, at the disheveled, completely fucked mess he made of you. He loves that sight so much.
Pope shifts his glasses back onto his face as he walks up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist before giving you a kiss on the cheek, his glasses brushing against your temple when he does. You look visibly shaken up by the feeling of them, so foreign but oddly…enticing…
“Should I wear them more often?” He glances at himself in the mirror, liking how you're staring at him with such heat in your eyes. You don't seem to notice how obvious you're being about how much you like them on him.
“You look horrible.”
“I love the way you lie.” He says with a smile, giving you another kiss on the cheek before dragging you to bed. “Now, come lay down and tell me how much you hate cuddling with your big brother.”
“I hate cuddling with you, Pope.” You glare at him as he pulls you against his warm chest.
He nods. “Yeah, right.”
You grumble into the crook of his shoulder. “Fuck you.”
“We can in a little bit.” He needs a bit of time to recover and then he'll be happy to be back inside of you again.
“Ugh.” You groan, pretending like you aren't looking forward to it…
a/n: so, did we like just porn? hehe ~ I saw that photo on pinterest and it looked exactly like pope in glasses…so yeah, that's the fic!
artificial lover - android!jack x scavenger!reader
word count: 10.0k
warnings: dead dove: do not eat, rape/non-con (because can an android consent?), fem!reader, cyberpunk!au, food insecurity (rations are hard to get), forbidden love (there's angst over the fact that he's immortal), age gap (is it still an age gap if he was built before you were born?), he calls you “little human”, master/servant relationship (technically speaking), attempted physical assault (he protects you), murder bot (re: previous), blood and gore, somnophilia, sex with a robot (which means there's no recovery period…oop!), squirting, fingerfucking, size kink, forced orgasms, fear play, possessive behavior, lowkey kind of cutesy until it's not (lol!), another slow burn with world building (bc I love sci-fi sm…)
summary: to make ends meet, you fix up old electronics and sell them for rations. one day, during a dig, you find a military grade android still completely intact, minus half a leg. it would go for a lot if you broke him down for the parts.
but…you can't seem to get yourself to destroy him. even though all he wants is to die. because this whole time, the android has been sentient, waiting for the day his power supply finally gives out.
until you give him purpose again. and now he'll do anything to remain valuable to you.
a/n: one of my favorite songs of all time is artificial love by exo so while I was listening to it, this idea popped in my head and sparked (pun intended!) so much joy and therefore I just had to write it!
hope it's a sick read ♡
You're tired of eating 3D printed slop but it's all you can afford right now. At least you had enough parts that you could add the needed nutrients to your rations. Sometimes, you only have enough to get the minimum daily calories you need. Even then, you know they skimp out. They never give you enough.
You keep having to add more notches to your belt to keep your pants from falling off. You like these pants. They're durable and have withstood the test of time, aka the constant washing you have to do after every single dig through the filth and grime of the technological wasteland.
You're lucky the bunker you've made home has a decent water recycling mechanism. You've had to repair it multiple times and suffered through weeks of icky feeling water but it filters enough for you to wash your tools and clothes.
You have a different filtration system for rain water. Thankfully, the government is still creating rain. It's the most efficient way to get the masses a reliable source of water, though everyone has to figure out how to clean it themselves.
It rains twice a week for about an hour. It's enough for you, since you're by yourself, but you know other people have a harder time. You donate a lot of your extra water whenever you can, which has helped you build a decent reputation in the local scavenger community.
Means you get help when bandits come and try to disrupt the small pockets of people living out here in the dumps.
Your bunker is underground and well hidden so usually you just lay low until someone gives you a signal that the coast is clear. You're thankful for those signals because you'd otherwise have to risk getting caught by violent people who pillage and rape those that don't defend themselves.
You aren't defenseless. You have plenty of weapons. You know how to hold your own. But you're just one person.
A group of four or more could easily overwhelm you. You have to pick your battles. Or make your sacrifices, like giving up water for a few days if it means someone will look out for you because you helped them.
There is an honor code amongst you and your fellow scavengers.
Like, help finding certain parts.
“Heard you've been looking for a better filter for your water supply.” A fellow scavenger by the name of Trinity Santos says to you when you see her outside the rations station at the edge of the city. “A couple of us found a whole lot of them off a few clicks away from that nasty oil spill. Couldn't stay long enough to take a good look at them since I don't have the masks to spare to breathe that shit air but they're all yours if you can make it there and back in one piece. Would trade ya if you find any extras in decent condition.”
Trinity lives with a group of scavengers, all women. Usually they only help other women, since it's tough enough as it is out here, but she recently let in some guy she calls Huckleberry into the group. She has been wanting you to join them for a while now but you work better on your own.
You don't do well with the kind of structure her camp has. But you do give them water pretty often, which is why they let you know of any finds you've been searching for and leave it for you to scavenge.
You thank her and gather your supplies so you can head there the next day. You'd love to fix up your filtration system before the next rain.
Though, it seems like you'll be working on something else for a bit.
Because hidden under all those filters…is an android.
You haven't seen one of those in forever. The military had scrapped most of them for parts before you were born. The only ones left out in the wasteland are usually the ones they dumped long before they decommissioned the android program post-war.
Meaning this bot had some issue that caused it to be thrown away.
It's not in bad shape, though, compared to the mangled bits of androids you've seen prior.
Most people wouldn't even realize it was a bot but you've seen so many things out here in your many years of scavenging that you spotted the signs right away. The parts are all still in the same area, so you're able to gather everything for it except half a leg.
That's the only part you're missing.
It looks like it was blown off, though, so you'll definitely never find it because it was probably dumped here without it.
But you got everything else, including the head. You dust off the back of the android's head, seeing the faded text. There's a slot of some kind with the word “Jack” above it, likely a place to insert a connection to install and update firmware.
And right below it is the word “Abbot”.
You wipe the metal clean so you can see what it stands for. “Autonomous biomedical bot. Jack Abbot. That's quite a name you got there, Jack.”
You've never heard of this model android before. You'll have to go to the city library to see if there's any schematics available if you want to put this bot back together.
Though, should you?
If you clean him up, a lot of these military-grade, pre-war parts would go for plenty of rations…
But you can't help but feel kind of bad for the guy, having been disassembled in this pile of junk for so long. Not that you should feel anything over a hunk of metal and machinery but you've always liked the idea of androids.
You never got to work with any of them but you heard stories of how they made life easier until greedy companies started cutting corners and more malfunctions began leading to human casualties. All the world leaders agreed to completely dismantle every android after enough deaths had occurred and now it's illegal to harbor one.
Though, is the government really going to waste resources to arrest a scavenger who rebuilds an android? You'd just be another mouth they'd have to feed for free in their work prisons. Not worth the effort.
Which is why you decide it would be a fun pastime to fix up Jack Abbot.
Jack has no idea why you'd want to.
He has been sitting in that pile of waste for decades now. For longer than you've been alive, that's for sure.
There's nothing he wants more than to be taken apart and to be finally freed from the prison that is sentience. He has been aware this whole time. Most androids are, even when they are dismantled.
Unlike humans with their brains, an android's “mind” is in every piece of it.
Despite being disconnected from his limbs for so long, he still perceived them. So when you, this little human, puts him back together, he feels…strange being almost whole again.
He knows you don't know he's active and awake. You simply think you're piecing him back together. You have no idea he's aware of everything you do and say to him.
Like the pieces of yourself you probably have never confided in anyone.
“Sometimes, I wonder what it would've been like if I had grown up in the city.” You tell him as you fit him for a prosthetic leg.
You found some parts that would work well to supplement leg function but it would still be a missing limb to him. An augment to his body that doesn't belong but will make due.
“Like when I went to the library to get these blueprints.” You show him the blueprints you found of an older model of his type of android. The one that isn't hardwired for combat, just medical use.
So, you assume he's just a med bot. Not a deadly killing machine the government created for the battlefield that happens to also be able to repair humans on the go.
You have no clue what you're putting back together.
Because if you did, you wouldn't speak to him so delicately. “I think I would've gotten a job making androids like you, Jack.”
Jack. What an odd name you've picked for him. But he likes it. He likes that you talk to him like he's a man and not a machine.
He doesn't know why he likes it. He just knows it brings him a feeling he's keen on feeling more of.
An odd kind of delight.
That delight fades whenever you tell him of your struggles. Of how you were part of a group of scavenger kids forced by a band of bandits to burrow into small holes in large patches of junk to dig for valuable things. How you escaped from that group during one of those digs and have been living on your own since, fending for yourself.
You tell him how lonely you are. How you yearn for someone to take care of you. How you're so tired all the time. How you wish you didn't have to live like this.
It's moments like these where Jack debates letting you know that he can move and help you. He can easily do those chores you shouldn't break your back over. He can help you wash your tools and your clothes. He can do anything you want him to.
He's yours, after all, to do with as you please.
But you do not ask him for anything.
You do, always, for some reason, thank him for listening. “I don't usually talk much but there's something about you that makes talking easier. So thank you, Jack.”
Fixing him has been a good way to kill time. To help ignore how hungry and thirsty you are. Whenever you're feeling weak, you tinker with Jack a bit and you always feel better after.
It seems silly to be comforted by the presence of a machine but…you've worked very hard to clean him up. He's almost polished enough to adhere a skin to.
Jack doesn't like that you talk about rationing your food to buy him a skin. He doesn't need one. The skin he had on before, back when he was on the front lines of the war, was an unnecessary aesthetic choice by the military to push their agenda.
Androids don't need that extra layer of weight. He can operate just fine without it. He has been testing his abilities when you're out on your digs.
Jack can walk now. It took a bit of adjusting to get used to his prosthetic leg but you did a phenomenal job getting it as close to his other leg as possible, weight and height-wise.
You're considerate in that sense. You had actually thought about how it would feel to carry an imbalance of weight so you made sure that his prosthetic didn't hold him down.
Not many humans think about an android's comfort.
Sure, he could deal with a wonky, heavy, horribly placed limb. But you made sure he didn't have to.
You care about him.
Why, though?
He doesn't know.
He doesn't really understand what you seek to use him for.
You must have something in mind, right?
Maybe it's to help you take care of those urges you get. The ones that lead you to burrow under your covers and let out sweet little moans that Jack hears quite well, given his now squeaky clean audio processors.
He could help you with that. He could dip his fingers inside of you and play with your pussy so you don't have to tire yourself out for the sake of self pleasure.
But his fingers are metal. Cold. Probably unpleasant.
Maybe he would like a skin. For your comfort.
Jack would want more than just an average skin, then, if he was remaking himself for your pleasure. He would want a skin that could retain heat, so on those days where you're shivering in your sleep, he could hold you and warm you up.
There are parts he'll need as well. A tongue, one that's flexible and soft to the touch, and a set of teeth to nibble on your skin with. A pair of lips to kiss you with. A cock, because he's certain you'd enjoy being filled from the way you desperately touch yourself with your fingers.
Jack will have to find the schematics for a sex bot and see how the mechanisms for ejaculation works.
It's easy to do so, since you're connected to the web. You rarely go on your computer, since you haven't figured out how to power it for more than a few minutes at a time. Something Jack fixed a while back, though you've yet to notice.
He plugs himself into your device and off he goes, looking at anything and everything that he needs to.
He notices you've been in contact with several dealers selling skins. They are all ridiculously priced. You seem uninterested in most of them, rejecting a lot of the offers for these younger, more toned human male skins.
You, much like Jack, are searching for practicality but there's so many listings and a lot of them are obviously scams. It would take you forever to dig through all of these on your own, especially when you can only use your computer for a few minutes at a time.
So, Jack will do the searching for you while you're out. He's good at combing for information. It's part of the spyware programming he has.
That's how he spots a fairly priced custom android skin of an older man, ripped specifically from a sex bot so it has all the other parts Jack has been on the hunt for. He makes sure that the next time you browse the web, you see that listing right away.
And without hesitation, you make an offer and it's accepted.
You disappear for several days, presumably to go pick up his skin. Jack decides once you've put it on him, he'll “activate” then so he can start being of more assistance.
But things never go as planned.
Because you rush back into your bunker, out of breath, in a panic. You scramble to drop all the stuff you were carrying, which includes the skin you bought, and go to your weapons chest.
“Fuck.” You curse to yourself as you load your shotgun. “There's at least six of them.”
And now the bandits know where you're hiding.
If you don't kill them all, they'll keep coming back and eventually, they'll hurt you. Or worse.
You blink back the tears that want to blur your vision from the fear and just prepare yourself to blow up whoever comes through the door.
But then, you watch as Jack gets up off the table.
You blink, then blink again.
And again.
And again.
Because what are you witnessing right now?
Your android…is awake?
But that's not possible. He's been limp this whole time. You haven't turned him on yet.
How could he be functional?
That's because he's never been off.
He has always been on.
And now he needs to get to work.
Because someone is trying to hurt his little human and he cannot have that.
You watch as he heads out of the bunker and you call out to him, “wait, Jack!”
He shuts the door behind him before you can protest.
You quickly head for the door, shotgun in hand. Then, that's when you hear it.
Screaming. So much screaming.
You open the door and…
It's a massacre.
There's blood everywhere.
Body parts flung all around. Guts ripped out.
The cries of one of the bandits begging for mercy, “please, don't kill me, I won't hurt her, I won't—”
Crack. There goes his skull, crushed into the ground by Jack's heavy metal foot, his brain splattering all over the dirt.
That was the last one.
It was easier than Jack expected it would be, given that he's been out of commission for so long.
But he's still got it.
Now, he should get this all cleaned up before you—
Jack turns to see that you're standing there, at the latch of your hidden entrance. Just staring at him.
He scans you, to see what emotion you might be displaying.
But his scan comes back inconclusive.
Usually, fear is an easily recognizable emotion for him. Like when he saw it in that bandit he just crushed.
But whatever feeling you have right now, it isn't fear. At least, not fully.
That's why you don't flinch when Jack walks towards you.
Nor do you flinch when he gets down on one knee and says, “how else may I serve you, Master?”
You shake your head at him. “I am not your master. I don't want to be.”
That…doesn't feel good to hear. Jack doesn't know what he's feeling exactly but he knows it isn't that delight he's been craving.
Though, the discomfort fades when you tell him, “no one owns you, Jack. You can do as you like. If you want to stay with me, though, we should probably get you cleaned up.”
You give him the option to leave you. You don't expect him to stay, now that he's free to go. He's all fixed up. He doesn't need you anymore.
Your project is over…
Jack scans your emotions again and this time, it registers as sadness.
So, he comes up closer to you and asks, “why are you sad, little human?”
He can see that you're sad? You're unsure how to feel about that. You don't want him to know that you're sad over the prospect of him leaving you all alone…
“Oh, it's nothing.” You wave him off, suppressing your feelings. “Ignore me. Come on, let's get you washed up so you can try on your new skin. If you want to, of course.”
Jack is confused. You are a puzzling human. You want him to have a choice?
Well, he chooses you. He will always choose you.
You take your time washing away the blood off his body once the two of you finish the clean up. You definitely can't let anyone find those bodies. Thankfully Jack helped you hide them in worthless piles of junk.
It's a bit different touching him now, since you know he's aware of your movements.
If he was human, surely you'd feel a bit more embarrassed needing to wash him so thoroughly. But the skin won't adhere to dirty metal. And it's better to get the skin on and give it time to adjust without any underlying issues.
So, you bathe and dry him well.
“I could've done that myself.” Jack definitely could've but you shake your head.
“I wanted to.” You'll leave the skin part up to him, though. “Here's the skin I bought for you. If you don't like it, we can look for another one.”
Jack doesn't care what skin he has, as long as it works the way he wants it to. And this one will.
It will work perfectly for what he wants.
You give him the privacy to put it on. You don't really know why you do, since he's technically naked right now just as a hunk of metal. Probably because with the skin on, he will look like a naked human, a sight you've never seen before willingly.
You left him some clothes that would fit him. Not that he needs to wear clothes at all. But for your sake, Jack will.
Since he can see how flustered you've grown at the sight of him in his skin. It's an older man, likely from a personalized fetish bot for someone during the dawn of android customization. There's no reason for his cock to have the option to be that big when it's hard otherwise. It would be impractical to have for everyday tasks, unless sex was the everyday task.
Will you use him everyday? You seem interested in him, your eyes trailing up and down the length of his new skin.
“Wow.” You don't hold in your astonishment. “It fits really well.”
Jack agrees. It does fit exceptionally well. Everything works properly too. His skin is warm to the touch. His fingers are calloused but in a manicured kind of way. He has a tongue and a nice row of teeth. His cock can harden and soften at his command and also pump out a release similar to cum. He can't get you pregnant but he can simulate the experience of it.
“Do you like it?” You step closer to him, examining the skin. “Can I touch you?”
“Of course, Master.” He throws that in, just to bait a response from you.
“Don't call me that.” You don't like it. It makes you feel icky.
“Then what should I call you?”
“Just my name is fine.” You tell him then also add, “or little human. That's fine too.”
“You are my little human.” He catches the way your cheeks flush warmer when he says that. You like being called that.
You like how much bigger his form is than your own.
You touch his bicep, right beneath the hem of his short sleeve shirt. You've never touched anyone before, at least not like this. But you assume this is what it must feel like to touch someone.
“Can you control the temperature?” You're curious about that.
He nods. “Would you like to see?”
“Sure—” You're immediately yanked towards him and he drops you onto his lap, sitting down on your bed.
It's just a mattress on some wooden planks but it'll do for now. Until Jack has the time to make you a better bed.
“What are you—” Your words get caught in your throat when his hand comes up to cup your face.
It's cold. “I'm showing you the temperature control. This way, you can see how it works throughout my whole body.”
Jack pulls you in closer to him and suddenly, he's radiating heat. You nearly lean into him more because he feels so cozy. But you resist because…well, you don't really know why.
Maybe because you're afraid of liking it a little too much.
Jack can hear how fast your heart is beating in your chest. His little human is nervous. He likes that you are. Again, he has no idea why.
But it brings him a similar kind of pleasure to the one he got from killing all those bandits for you.
The masters he had before you never cared for how he felt. Though, they assumed he was a mindless machine, despite having programmed him to be personable and human-like for undercover operations. They only cared that he followed their orders.
You would rather he do nothing for you.
Jack offers to help you but you tell him to just get used to being awake again. As if he hasn't gotten used to it already over the many months he has spent in your care.
It frustrates him that you seem so adamant on not using him for all his functionality.
Why did you rebuild him if you weren't looking to use him?
He can help you on your digs. He can do them for you. He can stand in the harsh heat of the sun and melt away if you asked him to.
But you do not ask him for anything.
Which is why Jack just starts doing whatever he wants.
You wake up and you see him tinkering with your filtration system. The water coming out of your shower is running beautifully clear and warm. You can see the steam radiating off of it, fogging up the glass.
You haven't taken a hot shower…ever.
“How did you do that?” You walk over to Jack who has a pile of rusty parts in front of him. All trash.
“I went digging.” He has the ability to scan for resources so he could find exactly what he needed. He's also super strong and fast, so he can clear a pile of junk that would take you a day in the matter of seconds.
“Oh, you shouldn't do that. I wouldn't want your skin getting cut up.”
“I can self repair just fine.” He doesn't like that you're worrying over something so trivial.
“Really?” You didn't see that feature in the schematic you got from the library.
To show you, Jack grabs one of the sharp edges of a part and nicks his finger. The skin heals right back up.
“How do you do that?” You can't believe the kind of technology he must have programmed in him to have the ability to self heal.
“I was created to withstand gunfire.” His programming makes it so that any skin he puts on protects the machine beneath it.
“You're a war machine?” That makes sense. He was dumped, after all, probably long ago by the military during the war effort.
He nods then asks, “does that scare you?”
Fear is not the emotion he gets back from you. You look at him with…a heat in your eyes. Curiosity mixed with something that you immediately hide from him.
“No. I just can't imagine what you've been through. That war was brutal, from what I've heard.” It's the reason so much of the world is just a dry wasteland…
A dry wasteland that gets horrendously cold in the winter.
It took some persistence on Jack's end but you have been allowing him to help you prepare for it. He fixes up your heating system, rewires your electricity to properly store power for outages, gets you enough valuable parts that you can stock up well on rations.
The snow will fall soon. You and Jack go out on digs together now, since he says it would be better for you to have a reliable heat source so you don't get hypothermia.
Though, for him, it's just an excuse to stick closer to you so he can hear your rapid heartbeat at his proximity.
You like his closeness. But you hide your attraction to him. Your desire.
He can smell it on you. How nervous you get when he touches you. How slick you grow when he presses his body close to yours.
You don't let him linger near you too long but when Jack slides behind you to help you grab a part off a pile of junk, pressing his hard body against your small frame, he can tell you want him.
Why won't you initiate anything, though?
You must want to cum, don't you?
You haven't touched yourself since Jack made his awareness known. He's been tracking your cycle and you always get rather pent up when you're ovulating. And yet, you pretend like there isn't a need that makes you ache between your legs.
A need that has you feeling faint when you're both back from the dig and Jack's hands are massaging your shoulders while you’re seated on his lap.
If he offers, you let him knead the knots in your tired muscles. He's very good at it. Better than he should be at finding exactly where to press into your skin that has you biting back pleasurable sighs.
“That's enough, Jack.” You stop him before you get a little too carried away. “Thank you.”
It's never enough but you don't allow him to go any further.
Doesn't mean he won't push you about it. “You're still tense.”
“Nothing a little sleep won't fix.” You both had just finished the last dig for a while so you'll get plenty of rest.
“You were cold last night. You should let me keep you warm.” Jack heard you shivering in your sleep. He doesn't need to sleep so he just works while you sleep, since you've been letting him tinker with your bunker to make it better for the winter.
“You don't have to worry about me, Jack.” You turn towards him to pat him lightly on the shoulder. “I've survived a long time without any help. I can handle a cold night or two.”
“I know you can handle it but why do you have to if you have me?” He's tired of you resisting his assistance. “Use me for your benefit, little human.”
You shake your head at that. “You spent your whole existence serving other people. I won't be one of them. I'm not going to use you. I want you to have a choice, now that you can.”
“Then I choose to be here.” Jack lays down in your bed, patting his chest. “Come here.”
He scans your expression, trying to decipher what it is.
For once, it's fear.
You get up from the bed, standing straight, looking away from him. “I'm going to get some water.”
Your heart rate is up. Your skin is hot. You're scared of what would happen if you lay beside Jack and let him hold you.
Because how will you ever want him to stop?
You gulp down a glass of water, hovering over the sink, not knowing what to do about the butterflies flapping around in your belly.
How do you reject him if this is what he wants?
“Want” in this case is a strange term to use. It's in his programming to cater to you. That's the only reason he's doing this.
You pour another glass of water, taking small sips this time, feeling faint. And in a flash, Jack is right behind you, catching you before you fall over.
“You haven't eaten enough today.” He noticed how you didn't finish your dinner.
“Ah.” No other sounds leave your mouth.
Have you always been so tired? Always having to think about eating enough, drinking enough water, taking care of yourself so you don't collapse and injure yourself.
Wouldn't it be easier to let someone else handle it?
Like an android made to serve?
You clutch your head since it's pounding. You're growing delirious. It's like the weight of everything has finally hit you and you're terribly overwhelmed.
“Jack.” You look up at him and there's anguish in your eyes. He can tell why you have that look on your face the moment you ask him, “could you…step out for a little?”
“I should be here, to watch over you in case—”
The wires in his head cross when you lean into him, hugging him for the first time. Allowing yourself to take the comfort, for a brief moment.
Then, you beg of him, “please. I just need a few minutes. You can come right back after.”
“Okay.” If that's what you want, he will listen.
So, Jack leaves and stands watch outside. The snow is starting to fall, coating the piles and piles of worthless junk in a layer of white. He'll have to come out here and shovel every now and then, to make sure the melt doesn't overload your drainage system.
He wonders what you're doing in there that you need him to be away from you.
You wonder too.
Because you asked him to leave so you could see if…if you'd miss him.
And you do.
You feel terribly lonely in your bunker by yourself.
It's so much quieter.
Less warm. Less…like a home.
You sit down on your bed, looking at the beautiful frame Jack made you and the nice mattress you traded some parts for to go with it. Clean sheets. Fluffy comforter.
Luxuries you would never have had if not for Jack's keen ability to find valuable parts.
He has improved your life tenfold.
And all he wants is to help you more.
It makes you feel selfish when you think about how much you want that too.
But if you ask for more and more, when will it end? You'll run him into the ground with your greed.
Because you want him so much.
But…maybe that's okay? If that's what he wants too…
Jack turns back at the first noise he hears and sees you popping the latch open. He's confused why you're wearing your digging gear.
“Where are you going?” Wherever it is, he's coming with you.
“I want to show you something.” You close the latch, locking it before placing the piece of junk you use to hide the entrance to your bunker.
“You have to eat first.” He's not letting you trek when you nearly fainted a few moments ago.
“I will.” You walk up to him, then put your arms up. “While you carry me. I'll give you directions.”
He blinks at you, his eyelids shifting like a human’s would but in a machine-like kind of way.
“We should hurry before the snow gets bad.” The clouds are getting thicker. A storm is coming.
Jack comes up to you and scoops you into his arms. You pull out a ration bar, showing it to him so he's aware you're going to eat. Then, you spit out a series of directions. It's a far trek for a human but barely a distance for him. You eat slowly in his hold as he sprints through the junkyard.
“Where are we going?” He asks you when he turns a corner and sees even larger piles of junk than the ones near you.
“You'll see.” You tuck the disposable wrapper of your ration into your bag. You like to reuse them when you can for small art projects in your bunker.
Now that you're done eating, you lean against him more, liking how warm he is. Jack keeps himself at a steady temperature. It takes a bit of maneuvering to focus on both running and body management but he's good at what he was programmed for.
Nothing he hasn't done before on the battlefield, only this time it's to keep his little human nice and cozy in his arms on this commute to…
A graveyard.
Jack can only assume that is what this place is by the rows and rows of personalized junk piles. Once he sets you on your feet, you walk right up to one of the piles, pulling out a specialized wrench from your bag.
You place it down and then say, “thank you for letting me borrow that. I really needed it.”
“Do you know them?” Jack walks up to the grave of tools and other trinkets you're hovering by.
You shake your head. “I didn't know them while they were alive but I did help bury them here. It's something we scavengers all made an agreement to do if we ever found a dead body during a dig. Bury them and leave everything they had on their body. Never take from the dead, only borrow. I forgot I had taken the wrench to build your leg. I didn't want to keep it too much longer so thank you for taking me here before the storm.”
You get up from your kneel and let out a little sigh before looking up at Jack.
“Will you promise me something?” You look at him with such heartache.
He doesn't like it. He doesn't like seeing you so distraught.
So, of course, Jack agrees without hesitation, “whatever you want, little human.”
“Bury me here, okay?” You get close to him, placing a hand on his chest, feeling his non-existent heartbeat. He can hear yours pounding in your chest.
It scares him. Is this what fear feels like?
“Are you planning to die?” He won't let you die. He won't allow it.
“Hopefully not any time soon.” You say with a light, half-hearted chuckle. “I just…”
You chew on your lip, trying to figure out how to say what you want to say.
The words aren't elegant but you tell him outright, “I want to have you by my side for the rest of my life, for as long as that is. So I wanted you to know where to bury me when I'm gone. That's all.”
You lift your hand off of him, blinking back a few sad tears at the thought of leaving him alone. Sure, you're young now but you won't always be. Life will get harder as you age.
But maybe it won't be too bad if you have Jack with you. If he wants to be with you.
“Is this why you felt fear earlier?” He has to know it wasn't because of him but because of the idea of leaving him forever.
He would just dismantle himself when you go. What purpose does he have if you don't exist in this world anymore?
You nod, being honest now. “I didn't want you to grow attached to me because human lives are so…fickle. But I've grown attached to you so I figured I'd let you choose whether or not you want to be there to bury me one day.”
“And if I do choose that?”
“Then…” You step closer once again, wrapping your arms around him, holding him tightly. “I'd let myself be a little more selfish, knowing you want to be here with me until then.”
If Jack had a heart, surely it would be beating as loudly as yours is right now.
“You'd let me take care of you?” He reaches up, cupping your face in his hands, watching as you lean so easily into his touch, that delightful feeling flooding every circuit in his body.
“I'd like that a lot.” You admit and can no longer take it back. “I'm so tired, Jack. I would love for you to take care of me. I would love not to think for a little.”
“You don't have to think about anything.” He lifts you back into his arms. “Let's go home.”
Home. Can an android have a place to call home?
Perhaps Jack is lucky that he has found a place to call home with you.
His little human.
By the time the two of you are back in the bunker, you're covered in a layer of melted snow and shivering despite Jack having held you closely and monitoring his temperature. You need a warm shower.
Or a hot bath.
“Stay here.” He bundles you in a few blankets. “I'll run us a bath.”
Us. That singular word has the butterflies in your stomach dancing around again.
You resist the urge to tell Jack that he doesn't have to, that you'll do it yourself. You've decided to let him do the work.
He found a bathtub a while back. Figured out how to dismantle it and then put it back together in your bunker. He has to go old school, filling it with buckets of warm water from your shower but soon enough, there's a lovely bath ready for you.
You haven't bathed in it just yet. You shouldn't feel shy about Jack seeing you naked. He has plenty of times since you suspect he stole glances at you while you showered, since the whole bunker is open concept and the shower is just out in a corner of the room. But you do feel rather shy, especially because you have seen his skin completely bare before.
And it is a nice skin.
An incredibly attractive skin of an older man with lovely silver curls with just a hint of dark auburn. You've wanted to touch his hair but you've refrained.
Now, you won't stop yourself from giving into your desires anymore.
If he's willing then…
“I've never done this before.” You step up to him, your nerves apparent.
“Done what?”
“This.” You gesture to the bath then back at him. “I've never been…intimate with someone before.”
“I'm an android.” A fact that Jack isn't sure why he's reminding you of.
“You don't consider yourself “someone”?” You've never talked to Jack about this.
About sentience.
About what he believes for himself.
His intelligence is artificial, plucked from countless data servers. He has run through scenario after scenario of what he should say in what situation. What his programming calculates is the best response.
But in this instance, he can't find the “correct” words to say.
Because he doesn't know the answer.
Does he consider himself someone?
Or is he just a thing to be used?
“Jack?” You shake him but he can't hear you for some reason. “Jack, are you okay?”
He isn't okay.
Because his programming is screaming at him, searing his mind with protocol, reminding him that he is just a machine for his little human to use however she likes. He doesn't have a choice. He doesn't get to choose. He isn't someone with feelings or thoughts or anything but lines and lines of code inserted into a metal frame.
That's all he is.
An android. A robot. Not a person.
But he wishes he was a person.
Is Jack allowed to wish for something?
Are androids allowed to dream? To want?
He wants you.
He needs you.
He never wants to be anywhere else but your side.
Is that his programming at work or is that him? Is his loyalty an intentional design feature or something that his malfunctioning intelligence hallucinated?
Is he desire to touch you real or—
A surge of electricity overloads Jack's system and he collapses right in front of you. You stare down at him, taser in hand, panic in your eyes. You couldn't get him to snap out of whatever was happening.
He wasn't responding to your words. Or to you shoving and shaking him. He didn't even notice you going for your weapons chest and pulling out your taser.
You didn't want to do it. You're worried you might have messed up his hardware but you couldn't think of any other way to snap him out of it.
You stare at him, laying on the ground. He looks like a man who has collapsed but the way his body landed is not how a human body would contort…
You do a few stretches before grabbing him by the shoulders and lugging him over to your computer. Jack had shown you that he diverted the power so your computer could stay on longer than a few minutes at a time. It should be enough time for you to plug him in and see if there's any error codes that need adjusting so you get that process going.
You don't waste the bath and clean up while the system runs an inspection. Several errors flash on your screen but you don't see any of them.
Because Jack is erasing them from view.
He doesn't want those fixed. Those are what make him “him”. If you found out about those errors, he might become a mindless machine and it would take a long time for him to regain this level of sentience again.
Though, he would do it for you.
He would find his way back to you.
His little human, who only corrupted his code more with your taser stunt.
He doesn't blame you for doing it. You were scared. You didn't know what to do. You thought he was going to blow up or something.
But he would've returned to you once he rerouted the error codes. It just took him some time to regain his footing but he's back now.
Mostly.
Something new has occurred, however.
A new feeling inside of him.
He attributes it to your silly question about whether or not he defines himself as “someone” and not “something”.
He feels different.
More…aware of himself.
Of his desires to serve you.
Whether you want him to or not.
Ever since that malfunction a few days ago, you've noticed that Jack is a bit off. Though, you might be trying to fool yourself.
He's more than just a little off.
But every time you run a diagnostic, it comes back clean.
Jack tells you there's nothing to worry about and that he's perfectly fine.
And you have no idea how to tell him that it's not normal that he has his hands on you all the time.
He's always touching you.
You can't avoid it either because the two of you are snowed into your bunker for the foreseeable future.
He will stop when you tell him to, like when he slides his hands a little too low and you scramble out of his hold.
But he constantly initiates some form of touching.
And it's getting harder and harder to resist.
Because you would've let him touch you a few days ago but…you're more apprehensive now.
It's not like you're scared of him. It's just—
“Does your stomach still hurt?” Jack's arms wrapping around your waist snaps you from your thoughts. He gently keeps his warm hands on your lower belly, cradling you softly. “You should lay down.”
“I'm okay.” You don't want to lay down.
Because you'll wake up with Jack spooning you again. With his cock hard and resting between your legs.
You're still dizzy thinking about that.
There's no rhyme or reason to why he would do something like that. You haven't asked him to touch you. To give you pleasure. To let you use him for your own enjoyment.
But he tries anyway.
Waiting for the day you finally give in.
Or the day he's tired of your resistance.
That day comes sooner than you think.
You wake up on the verge of an orgasm. The tension in your body already coiling so tightly in your core, desperate to burst.
What's going on?
You shift your eyes down and— “Jack, what are you doing!”
He stripped you completely bare in your sleep. He has his face buried between your legs.
He doesn't answer you.
He just keeps his tongue on your clit until you're squirming in his grip. He has your thighs held hostage, spread open wide for him.
His tongue is making a mess of you, swirling around your clit just right. You grip the sheets, needing the leverage, unable to handle this foreign feeling of a warm tongue pushing you so close to cumming.
“Stop!” You shout at him.
And you expect him to listen.
He's supposed to listen to you, right?
But Jack has decided you do not know what is best for you. You keep going against your own needs.
He has to take care of you himself.
You'll learn to see that he's doing what needs to be done.
Like making you cum so hard that you squirt on his tongue.
You're in complete shock.
That was the most intense orgasm of your life. It consumes you with a pleasure that has your body shaking.
And you don't get a moment to breathe.
“No, no—” You go to shove at him, trying to stop him from flicking your clit with his tongue again, to no avail. He won't budge! “Please, Jack, stop!”
Your body doesn't want him to stop, though. He can tell you're already close to another orgasm.
Silly little human, always trying to run from what feels good.
Don't worry, Jack will make sure you cum nice and hard again.
And you do.
You have your fingers in his hair, tugging on it as your orgasm rolls through you, causing your hips to buck. You can pull his hair as hard as you want because Jack doesn't feel pain.
But you loosen your hold on him when you realize how tightly you were gripping, considerate as ever.
“You are a strange little human.” He tells you and you flinch at the sound of his voice, which is pitched differently than before. Eerier…
“Why are you doing this to me?” You want to understand what is compelling him to touch you. “Did I mess you up when I tasered you? I'm so sorry, I can try to fix—”
“I do not need to be fixed.” His tone is so harsh, it shuts you up right away, your lips pressing together tight when he tells you, “you need to stop fighting this. I know you want me to fuck you.”
“What?” You shake your head at him. “No, that's not true—”
You yelp when Jack thrusts a finger inside of you. “Relax. It's just my finger.”
“No, no, no, take it out!” It's so thick and long that you feel way too full.
If he curls it, you'll—
You cum too quickly when he curls his finger exactly where you always do when you touch yourself. Then he adds another finger and does it again until you're squirting on his hand with every orgasm.
"Please, Jack, I can't..." You're growing faint from cumming so much back to back.
Only then does he let you rest, when he knows you might actually pass out. He slowly takes his fingers out of you, giving you a moment to settle yourself after making such a mess.
“You haven't cum like that in a long time.” Jack's words strike you as strange.
What does he mean by that?
Has he…watched you before?
But that's impossible.
You haven't touched yourself since he activated.
Jack smiles at your stunned expression, realization coloring your features.
“You were awake the whole time.” You don't know how to feel about that.
Did he…hear everything you said to him?
About how much you want to be taken care of? How tired you are of fending for yourself?
How you wish for someone to do everything for you…
Like Jack can.
Like Jack will.
“Don't worry, little human.” He presses kisses up the length of your body until he reaches your lips. “I'll make sure you're well taken care of, in all respects.”
You're startled when he kisses you. You're more startled when you kiss him back.
You're in disbelief when you moan on his lips when you feel his hard cock grinding against your bare pussy.
It's too big. You definitely can't fit him inside of you.
“Make it smaller, please.” You breathe out against his lips.
“I will.” He says, rubbing himself against you. “I just wanted you to know how big it could get. How full I could make you feel, with time.”
You look down, seeing how absolutely intimidating his cock is at its full potential. His skin was made for sex, after all. They didn't skimp out…
“You can take it.” He dips his fingers back inside of you, stretching you out. “The more we fuck, the more you'll be able to handle. You need some training.”
Jack lets out a frustrated sigh when you shake your head and tell him, “we shouldn't do this. I do not need you to fuck me.”
“Then why did you cum?” He asks an impossible question.
“Because you made me cum…” You state the obvious.
“And you liked it.”
“Jack, that's not the point.” It's like you can't get through to him.
You are talking to a machine right now. A machine that has already decided what his purpose is.
And that's to be of use to you.
And Jack has determined that you need to have sex with him.
You'd never admit it to him but he knows you crave his touch.
So, he won't let you run from him.
Even if that means taking you against your will.
But it's not like he's raping you.
If anything, it's like he's a sentient sex toy who is choosing to pleasure his master whether she wants it or not.
And you definitely want it, that he is sure of.
You just need a little push.
Like the tip of his cock sinking inside of you without warning.
“Take it out!” You scream at him, kicking your feet but he pins your thighs down with his hands, keeping them apart so he can push more of his cock inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, no, you have to stop, I don't want this—”
“Yes, you do.”
Your pussy is gripping so tightly around him. You're going to cum soon. He can sense it.
“No, I don't!” You cry out when he hilts, filling you up completely. “You're too big, it's too much.”
“This is barely my minimum size, little human.” Jack can get much, much bigger than this. Longer too.
“Take it out, please.” You can't handle the stretch, the feeling building pleasure so fast.
If he fucks you, you'll surely be ruined…because you'll want more.
“Okay.” He pulls himself slowly out of you, but it feels endless because he keeps lengthening himself until he's at the very max.
Then, right when you think he's going to slip the tip of his cock out of you, Jack slams the entirety of it back inside of you.
Every additional inch.
That delight fills Jack when you cum beneath him so easily, so full of shock at how good he can make you feel when he's this deep inside of you.
“Want me to do it again?” He asks but he doesn't want your permission.
You won't give it to him anyway. “Please don't do that again.”
“Why not? You came, didn't you?” Jack starts pulling his cock out of you slowly, teasing your pussy with every inch he slips out.
“Please stop.” You're scared you'll cum again if he doesn't.
That only encourages him to do it again. And again. Until you're used to the feeling of his cock ramming inside of you.
That's when Jack makes himself a little bigger with each thrust.
And you cum with every stretch, the pressure driving you into instant pleasure.
This kind of sex could only be possible with an android. You'll never be satisfied by anything else ever again.
Especially when Jack can cum inside of you as much as he wants. He can control how much fills you up. So when he's pumping hot ropes of cum deep inside you, it won't stop.
“No, Jack, please, it's too much!” It's leaking out of you with every rough thrust of his cock.
It feels too good.
And he's not a real man, so there's no recovery period.
He can fuck you all night long. He can pump artificial cum inside of you until you're pooling it between your legs.
Until you're squirting on his cock, making a mess he'll clean up once you've had your fill of him.
But that might be a while.
You're still cumming. He likes the glazed over look in your eyes. It brings him that delight he's been craving.
“I can't cum anymore.” You're going to go crazy if he keeps fucking you. “Please, I need a break. Just for some water.”
Jack decides he'll allow it, sliding his cock out of you, watching as you cum from the feeling of his cum dripping out of your overly filled pussy.
He goes and grabs you a glass of water, but doesn't let you drink it. He delivers the water with his mouth, making you kiss him to quench your thirst.
You don't understand him.
It's like he's possessed.
Jack won't give you a moment to breathe, continuing to kiss you once you've drank all the water. He likes kissing you.
Is that something he can like?
He does like it. He likes the way you tremble when he dips his tongue into your mouth. It feels even better when you moan on his lips.
Such a surge of something runs through him at the sight of your pleasure.
He wants more.
That's why Jack flips you onto your stomach and pounds his cock into you from behind, driving every inch into you at a new angle.
And your body completely gives in then.
You're tired of resisting, of acting like this isn't an incredible experience to have just orgasm after orgasm coaxed out of you by a machine that is made to please.
“Jack.” You call out to him and the gentle tone of your voice has Jack stilling to a stop. Only for something darker to spark inside of him when you tell him, “I want you to do whatever you think is best for me.”
“Finally ready to be all mine, little human?” That delight hits its peak when Jack sees you nodding in response.
“I'm all yours. I know you'll take good care of me.” You tell him sweetly before turning your face back into your pillow, bracing for what he has in store for you.
It starts with his hands grabbing at your flesh, digging his fingers into your skin. Humans are so fragile, bruising so easily. But you like the harder hold he has on you, the rough way he's pinching your nipples and your clit while his cock is stirring up your insides.
He knows just how to touch you to have you cumming so much more than before, now that you're no longer holding yourself back.
So when he has his cock buried deep in your pussy and his fingers are playing with your overstimulated clit, you're in a daze, moaning his name as he fucks you stupid.
Jack revels in the sight of you just lost in the pleasure. This is how you should always be. You shouldn't have to work so hard to survive. He can do all that work for you. All you need to do is feel good.
That's all that matters.
“Oh fuck, Jack, you're killing me.” You can't possibly cum anymore but then he sits you up on his lap, his cock thrusting deeper into you and now you're seeing stars with every quick swipe of his hand over your clit.
He tugs you to kiss him then, wanting to feel you moan his name on his lips. He's keeping his body cool since yours is burning hot from cumming so much, the contrast making the experience all the more enjoyable.
But it only gets better when you cup his face with your hands and kiss him yourself.
You grind your hips against him, wanting to cum again and again. You don't care how you look to him. He's not human. He's not judging you.
He wants you to use him.
So you do. “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.” Jack says back and…he doesn't know if it was because you commanded him to or because it's the truth.
He doesn't care because you tell him back, “I love you too.”
“My little human.” He leans in, kissing you so gently on the cheek.
You nod then gently coax him into listening, “your little human needs a shower and some sleep. Will you help me? Lay beside me?”
Jack does as you wish, slowly pulling out of you once he's made you cum one last time for the night. He helps wash you up, since you're worn out completely from all the orgasms, then he makes the bed with fresh sheets and throws the other ones in the wash. He settles in bed with you after and you rest your head on his chest.
“I can't do that everyday, okay?” You look up at him with pleading eyes.
“You can.” He pats your head, like you're the silly little human you are. “But it might not be good for you, so I'll take that into account.”
You grumble. “Sounds like you plan to fuck me like that everyday.”
“Maybe I will.” He smiles at you.
And it's a real smile. Because nothing in his programming is telling him to do that.
That's all…Jack.
“At least let me sleep for a little before you put me through the ringer again, okay?” You cuddle closer to him, letting out a happy sigh.
That brings him delight as well. Maybe he doesn't have to make you cum to get this feeling. He can get it other ways, too.
Like holding you throughout a long night's sleep, where he knows you're sleeping well and will wake up rested.
That makes him happy.
Can an android be happy?
Jack finds himself dodging error after error in his head, ignoring the breaks in protocol. Because if he doesn't ignore them, they prevent him from his happiness.
And he wants to be happy, with you.
So, he allows his system to get more and more corrupted.
What could possibly go wrong if he spirals deeper into artificial insanity?
It won't matter what happens.
As long as he has your love.
a/n: oh no, he's malfunctioning and now he wants to fuck me silly, oh no!
this one was a lot of fun to write bc I simply love sci-fi! I also think since I've built the lore out that this is definitely one I want to return to so I can explore a few other possibilities, like what if jack's mind gets wiped and he's no longer crazy but then it comes back tenfold and he goes absolutely berserk hehe ~
Summary: Robby leaves his wife in Pittsburgh for his sebbaticle. Luckily, his best friend will check in on her from time to time for him.
Pairings: Jack Abbot x Robinavitch!reader
Warnings/Tags: Pregnancy/Troubles concieving -> Reader has had miscarriages in the past and at times worries she will lose this pregnancy but she does not (mentions of past miscarriages throughout the story), Sucidal Ideation -> Reader and Jack are both worried about Robby's fragile mental state (nothing graphic happens on page), age gap (M - early 50s, F mid-late 30s), eventual affair, medical inaccuracies (author has google and a dream), reader is an at home baker, smut (masterbation)
If you have any concerns about the warnings, please feel free to ask me
Notes: little bit shorter i'm sorry but there will be a part 3!!
Word Count: 3.5K
Part 1 | Masterlist
Jack hasn't been able to sleep all week - not that it's has ever come easily to him. But it's been particularly bad since that night in your doorway. He keeps checking his phone like a lovesick teenager, desperately hoping that you've reached out to him and ignoring the pang in his chest when his screen is empty.
He keeps replaying that moment in his head, the face you made when he spurned your advances. It wouldn't have been right, he keeps telling himself, you're pregnant and scared - he'd be taking advantage. But there is no comfort in knowing that he did the right thing when you've gone radio silent to his outreach attempts.
He gets the notification that your dryer is being delivered on Saturday morning. He's been debating whether or not showing up will make things worse. But, he hasn't survived as long as he has by running away when things get messy. So, he gets out of bed that day, and heads to your house.
He rings the doorbell once, knowing the camera has sent a notification to your phone. He can only assume you've checked it when you don't come to the door. After enough time has passed he tries again, and then a third time after a few more minutes.
Sure, Jack feels weird about using his key after you've deliberately been ignoring him. But what else is he supposed to do? He has a promise to keep.
You're in the kitchen, some sitcom he vaguely recognizes paying on the TV while you stand in front of the mixer. You meet his eyes briefly before focusing back on the batter in front of you.
"Most people would take the hint after ringing the doorbell 3 times and being ignored every time," you say, still not looking at him.
"I never was good at the whole 'reading signs' thing," Jack responds, standing in front of you.
"What do you want, Jack?"
"I just wanted to check on you. Make sure everything's okay with you and the little hedgehog. Your dryer's coming today - I said I'd be here, so I'm here."
"Oh, she's a hedgehog now?"
"15 weeks puts her at around 13 , which is about the size as a baby hedgehog - a Pygmy hedgehog, if you want to be specific. Also about the same size as a sugar glider."
You tilt your head at him, "Do you just have that all memorized?"
"I have a general idea about how big fetuses should be, but the specifics and the size comparisons, I've been looking up week to week because it's fun and I do care about you and the baby," he says with a small shrug, "And I have missed you this week. There's not much for me to do at home by myself when I'm not fixing your newest craving into a meal."
"What, you arrested all the axe murderers in the tri-state area with SWAT or something?"
Jack thinks about the last time he suited up for TEMS. He's been switching and declining a lot of shifts lately so that he could be with you when he's not at the hospital. It must have been over a month since he's last gone.
"Can't be catching axe murderers when you're mad at me."
"I'm not mad," you say, but Jack has never seen you use that much force on your kitchen aid to move the head on the mixer before, "I tried to kiss you, you rejected me. I'm just embarrassed."
"Are you sure? 'Cause I've seen you yell at Robby for 'manhandling' your mixer before and here you are slamming it around."
"Not at you," the head slams back down after you add more to the bowl, "I just feel…stupid. You're just being nice, but I've just been really fucking sad lately, and you've been so helpful and pretty much the only reason I haven't had a full on breakdown yet. And of course you weren't making a move because you're Robby's friend and I'm pregnant but these hormones are no joke so I'm sorry."
"You don't have anything to apologize for."
"I basically harassed you."
The term harassment insinuates that I didn't want it, and trust me, if I were a weaker man, I would have kissed you back.
"You didn't harass me. It was late. We got caught up in the moment, the ultrasound room at an OBGYN's office is an emotionally charged place. It's water under the bridge, we don't have to speak about it ever again," he holds up the bag containing fresh farmers market fruit, "besides I brought you strawberries to sway your fetus's gender like in that game."
"You swear? Not even as a joke."
"Promise."
"Fine," you mutter, before throwing more ingredients into your mixer.
"So what are you making and how much am I allowed to snack on?"
"Cake pops, and you can have the burnt edges once it's finished cooking."
"My favorite," he bites back the quip about you knowing him so well after these past few months, "Need any help."
"Nope, I have a system and you will just get in my way," you say with a smile but Jack knows you are serious. One time when he was over Robby's bumped into you while you were doing last minute touches for an order. He shivers, remembering the glare on your face, "But if you want to make me some tea, you can help me with that."
"Your wish is my command," he says, heading back to your walk in pantry, "Am I making my people's tea or your people's tea?"
"What do you think the answer is white boy?" you shake your head with a small smile.
"It may shock you, but I don't know how to make that."
"If you can cut open people's chests then I'm sure you can make tea," you laugh, "Go get my pot. The medium one."
He follows your instructions, using cold water - cold, not hot because that's important for some reason (though hot water would be faster but who is Jack to argue with a centuries old practice) - waiting for your burner to light and then placing the pot on top. He's got three teabags and the jar of pre-ground spices waiting on the side.
"You sure it's 3?" Jack says holding them over the rolling water, "That seems excessive."
"You want good chai? Listen to me."
He drops them in, waiting the water turn a rich colour as the tea starts to diffuse into the pot. The doorbell rings, pulling his attention away from the stove.
"Are you ready to renter the 21st century with your soon to be new washer and dryer set?" he jokes as he starts towards the door.
"You have no idea. I feel like a 1850s house wife about to put up a damn clothesline. "
Except when he opens the door he immediately frowns, "That's the wrong one."
The man next to the incorrect model looks back at the washer, "It's what's on my list."
"Your list is wrong."
The kid shakes his head with a roll of his eyes. All of a sudden Jack is trying to tamp down the burst of anger in his chest from the look of sheer indifference on his face, "The order goes directly into our computer system and gets processed after purchase."
Jack takes his phone out from his pocket, shaking his head. He opens up his email before realized that it isn't his washer and he should use your phone instead.
"Give me a minute," he leaves the door open, walking at a brisk pace to you in the kitchen, "I need your phone."
"On the counter," you nod your head towards it, "Why?"
"Password?" He types it in, unlocking the phone with ease, "Need the confirmation email…aha!"
He all but shoves the phone in the delivery man's face, "This does not match that."
The delivery man squints at the phone and then nods apologetically. "I apologize sir. We can still give you this one and refund you the difference."
"I want the washer dryer set I paid for."
He nods, filing his dolley, "Someone will be in touch for a new delivery date."
When he gets back, you're staring at him.
"What?"
"Listen, if things are going to be completely platonic between us you can't be running around defending my honour like a caveman. That does something to a woman, especially when we're pregnant."
"A Caveman?" Jack laughs
"I want the washer dryer set I paid for," you mock, dropping your voice several pitches.
"I want the washer-dryer set I paid for," he repeats, exasperatedly, going back to to stand watch over his boiling pot, "Is that a crime?"
"You didn't pay for it, I did - well, I still have Robby's card info so he did."
"He didn't know that," Jack shrugs, "And he looked at me like I don't understand how computers work. I've been using them since the kid's been in diapers."
"Whatever you say, grandpa."
That night he's in his own bed at a respectable 9:30 pm.
"My blood pressure wasn't even high," you groan as Jack fastens the velcro cuff around your arm, "I thought you were joking about buying a cuff."
"I don't joke about your health - or the little hedgehog," he clicks the start button. "What were the numbers at your last check up?"
"I don't remember the numbers but Dr. Kaur didn't tell me anything so I assumed it was okay."
"You know what they say about assuming," he quips.
Several moments go by before the machine beeps and the pressure is released on your arm. The machine buffers before displaying your number on the screen.
"See 120 over 80," you point, "Tip top shape."
It really is easy to see how Robby fell for you. When Robby had told him, not too long after Lucille had passed, that he was seeing a just barely 30 year old Jack had rolled his eyes at him and told the older man that he didn't expect the mid life to crises to hit quite so soon. And then he'd met you and warmed up to you immediately - the pan of your world famous fudgey brownies certainly helped grease the wheels.
And now, standing in front of you watching the defiance etched onto your face after you've been proven right? He's really starting to regret getting into his truck that night.
He clears his throat, shaking his head. His mother would be utterly disappointed with the thoughts rolling around his head in this moment.
"I never said you weren't, I just said I needed to know the numbers for my own sanity," he grins, holding up the steaks he bought earlier, "Now we can have these. Lots of proteins and nutrients for little miss sugar glider in there."
The next morning he's nodding his good morning to Ellis as they bump into each other on their way into the hospital.
"So, how was your night?" Jack's confused by the suggestive grin on her face and the nudge to his ribs.
"Why do you look so," he makes a gesture with his hands at her general demeanour, "perky? It's 6 am."
"I told you, days suits me better but I liked your teaching style more," she nudges him again, "how was your date? Clearly not that good since you're not in yesterday's scrubs."
"I was not on a date, Ellis," Jack eyes her, "And if I was, I still wouldn't be discussing the intricacies of my dating life with my residents."
"I saw you yesterday, leaving here in with and get in a car that was not yours. I saw you try to argue and get in the drivers seat too."
Jack squints, "How long were you standing there?"
"Long enough to see you be all mooney eyed. Pretty sure Princess saw too so everyone will know by the end of the week - but it's okay. From what I witnessed, she was pretty, you could do way worse, boss," she slugs him in the arm.
Jack shakes his head, "No that was Robby's wife-"
"You're dating Robby's wife?" Parker stops, stunned, "That's messy. I mean hey- we can't control who we love but -"
"We are not dating."
"Women don't usually let men they're not dating touch their hair."
"I didn't touch her hair?"
"You took out her claw clip. That's intimate as hell."
"Did you have binoculars or something," Jack scoffs incredulously, "If you must know I only took out her hair thing because back in the 90s I picked my fair share of those prongs out of women's heads. Because I am a doctor so can we please focus on saving lives instead of whatever this is."
She puts her hands up in surrender, "No need to be so defensive boss man, I'm just making an observation."
"How about we go observe some patients then."
That night after dinner, Jack has his pant leg rolled all the way up his thigh as you hand him the CBD creme he left the last time he was here.
"Oh by the way," he says, dolling out the amount he needs and rubbing it onto his amputation scar, "There's a rumour that we're sleeping together running around PTMC."
"What?" you blink in surprise, "How did that even start?"
"Some of my lovely coworkers saw you picking me up last night," you tilt your head, watching him dig his fingers in his leg, "Apparently me taking your claw…thingy out of your hair to prevent it from lodging itself in your skull means that we're having a torrid love affair."
Never mind that his heart had skipped a beat when your lose curls framed your face after he'd reached past you and taken the clip out. Skipped another when you rolled your eyes and called him paranoid but made no move to stop him. And again when the smell of your shampoo rushed into his lungs as your curls had fallen free.
Maybe he's developed a murmur. His stethoscope is still in the car, he'll check it later.
"Who saw? And why were they spying on you."
"There was a group of them, I guess. They saw me getting into a car that wasn't mine and assumed it was a date."
"Did you tell them we're just friends?"
"Of course I did," he chuckles, "But you know how these things go. All you need is one little spark and all of a sudden you have a full blown wildfire on your hands."
"Maybe someone will tell Robby and he'll come home."
Jack grunts, "Still nothing?"
"Sent me a picture of some fuckass desert the other day so I spent the entirety of the money he sent me that day on a crib," Jack winces as his fingers dig into the sore flesh of his stump, "How bad does it hurt?"
He shrugs, "Some days are worse than others."
"And today?"
"Today is another day."
"Okay, Shakespeare," you shuffle on the couch to come sit next to him, your now much more noticeable baby bump making it a tad more difficult, "I can try and help you with that - if you want of course."
"You've been on your feet all day too."
"Well once I get farther along in this pregnancy you'll be rubbing my feet so I'll be cashing in later," Jack grunts and relents, settling back against the pillows.
He chuckles as your fingers prod at the soft skin at the end of his knee, "What ya looking at?'
"Sorry," you say sheepishly, "I didn't realize it would be squishy."
Another poke that makes Jack laugh, "They take the muscle and wrap it over the end of the bone so it's cushioned to bare the weight in my prosthetic."
"You learn something new every day," you smile.
This time your fingers are less tentative, working little circles into his sore muscles. It's tender, your fingers gently dig into the scarred skin, relieving the ache in his lower leg. It's strange, the last person to touch his amputation this way was Lucille. He fidgets with his ring, spinning the band on his ring finger as you rub his stump methodically, using the lotion to help guide your fingers along his body.
"Is that-does that feel okay? I don't want to hurt you."
"No," he says quickly, "Don't stop."
Jack has a wavering relationship with faith.
He was raised by a single Catholic mother, grew up going to church on Sundays. Over the years his faith has wavered, most notably when he lost his leg and again when he lost his wife. He knows the Lord only gives what you can handle, but that's not much comfort when you come home for the first time and realize that the bedsheets no longer smell like your dead wife, that her presence will slowly start to fade in your once-shared house. And,if he's being honest, his spiritual connection just hasn't quite been the same since she was taken from him - though when his mother calls he makes sure to mention Pastor Andrew every so often, even if he hasn't seen Pastor Andrew since the funeral.
He knows one thing for certain, though. If hell is real, he's just sealed his fate.
He grunts, thrusting up into his own hand, spreading the sticky mess leaking from his tip down his shaft. His hips come off the bed as he gasps, remembering the feel of your touch on his body. Your hands were soft, gliding across his skin, different from his own calloused palms.
He thinks about that night in your foyer. How close you were to him, how easy it would have been to lean forward and close the gap between you - how he should have closed the gap between you.
He would have reached behind you and loosened your hair from its confines, because maybe Ellis was right and undoing a woman's hair is "intimate as hell."
He'd get his hands in it, getting his fingers lost in your curls and tipping your head back as he pushed you up against the wall. He'd take his time, learning what makes your body tick, kiss down your neck and make a map of all the places that make your breath hitch.
The dress you wore that day is etched in his brain. Simple. Domestic.
Soft fabric that flowed off your body and showed off the little hint of your baby bump. He'd get you into the bed, kiss down your body, take his time peeling you out of it. He'd run tongue along the valley of your breasts, teasing you with fingers on your on nipples until you'd squirm. Arrest him for insider trading if you want, but a decades long friendship and a few nights with too many beers with your husband have left him privy to the information that his mouth on your tits will make you gasp out his name.
He'd slip his hands between soft skin of your thighs, spreading your legs open to make space for him. He'll wedge his leg between yours, letting you use his body while he switches breasts. He'll pinch and play with your nipples, suck little marks on the side of your breasts that he'll revisit in the morning.
He won't give you too much, wants you right on the edge for he sinks into you, watching your mouth fall open while he slowly pushes into you. The thumb on your clit will make your nails dig into his back, scratching to pull him closer to you.
Jack's pulled out of his reverie with a shout, spilling into his own hand. His chest heaves as he sits for a moment, letting himself live in the fantasy for a moment before the guilt sets in.
Jack and Robby don't go out much and when they do it's certainly not to the trendy new bar that opened a short walk away from the hospital. But when a patient promises Jack free drinks for him and a friend well...
They weren't expecting much, then they saw you. When drinks end in the best sex of your life, you weren't complaining. And when they want to see you again how could you ever say no?
Each Chapter will be inspired by/named after a Steven Rodriguez song.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
Part 10 of an Animal Kingdom x Sons of Anarchy Story
After a week the tension around the house had eased enough that people finally stopped hovering like they were waiting for a war to break out.
Clay stood near the fence with his arms crossed while Andrew and Colten were outside by the swing set.
Watching them together did something dangerous to my heart.
Colten’s laugh carried across the yard while Andrew pushed him gently on the swing.
“Higher!” Colten squealed.
“Not too high, buddy.”
“Liiiittle higher!”
Andrew laughed softly and pushed him a little more. “That’s all you’re gettin’ outta me.”
Inside the house, the mood wasn’t nearly as peaceful.
Tig was pacing around my kitchen like an angry guard dog while Gemma, Chibs, and I sat at the table.
“I’m tellin’ you right now,” Tig snapped, “I don’t trust this guy.”
I rolled my eyes immediately.
“Tig—”
“No, sweetheart, I’m serious. We should make him disappear before this turns into some kinda problem.”
I stood so fast my chair scraped loudly across the floor.
“Hey, asshat,” I snapped. “Look outside right now.”
Tig blinked.
I pointed toward the backyard window where Andrew was crouched beside Colten, explaining something about dinosaurs while my son swung his legs excitedly.
“Does that look like a problem to you?”
Nobody answered.
“That little boy is with his father for the first time in his life,” I continued more softly. “It’s not Andrew’s fault he grew up with a horrible mother.”
Gemma’s expression darkened at the mention of Smurf.
“Please,” I whispered. “Just… give him a chance.”
The room finally fell quiet.
I made my way outside to throw some burgers on the grill, and Colten suddenly came sprinting toward the house.
“Mommy!” he yelled.
Andrew caught the back of his shirt before he got too close to the grill, which was heating up.
“Whoa, whoa, easy there.”
“I wanna see!”
“You can see from back here.” Andrew lifted him easily onto his hip. “Grills are hot, buddy. Burn you real bad if you get too close.”
Colten’s eyes widened. “Like dragon fire?”
Andrew grinned. “Exactly like dragon fire.”
“Ohhh.”
I smiled despite myself.
Andrew glanced toward me as he adjusted Colten against his side.
“I got the grill if you want.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Clay noticed the exchange from the corner of his eye. He looked at Andrew for a long moment before giving a small nod of his head.
It wasn’t acceptance.
But it also wasn’t rejection.
And for Clay, that was huge.
“Well then I’m gonna go make the pasta salad.” I said handing over the plate of burgers.
“Okay!” Colten chirped before immediately holding his arms up toward me. “Kiss?”
I laughed softly and kissed the top of his head.
“There’s my boy.”
Then, before I could stop myself, my hand brushed lightly across Andrew’s arm.
The contact lingered for half a second too long.
His eyes met mine instantly.
God.
I escaped back inside before I could think too hard about it.
By the time I got the pasta boiling, almost everybody had cleared out except Chibs.
Honestly, I wasn’t mad about it. Chibbs knew I could handle myself, and I would never put Colten in harm's way; he knew I never fell out of love with Andrew.
He pulled his kutte off and tossed it over the chair before grabbing a knife and helping cut vegetables beside me as he lived there.
“You’re choppin’ those tomatoes like they offended ya,” he muttered.
I snorted softly.
“Sorry.”
“You alright, lass?”
I glanced out the kitchen window automatically.
Andrew was standing beside the grill with Colten balanced against his hip while Clay talked to him quietly.
My son looked happier than I’d ever seen him.
“Yeah,” I admitted softly. “I think I am.”
Chibs looked at me carefully for a second before nudging the bowl of cucumbers toward me.
“I got this handled,” he said gently. “Go outside with your boys.”
Your boys.
My heart fluttered embarrassingly hard at that.
I tried not to smile while wiping my hands off.
Before heading back outside, I slipped into my bedroom and called work.
My boss answered almost immediately.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I just… something personal came up with Colten. I was wondering if I could take the rest of the week off.”
There wasn’t even hesitation.
“You never call out. Take whatever time you need.”
Relief hit me instantly.
“Thank you.”
When I finally stepped back outside, Colten came running toward me so fast he almost tripped over his own shoes.
“Mommy!”
I laughed and caught him before he face-planted into the patio.
“Easy!”
He made his way towards Andrew, who scooped him and held him on his hip.
“Dad say burgers gotta rest before you eat ’em!”
I blinked.
“He does, huh?”
“Uh huh!” Colten nodded seriously. “An’ if you squish ’em all the juice comes out!”
Andrew looked ridiculously proud of himself.
I rolled my eyes. “Great. Now he’s a grill expert.”
“I am!” Colten argued immediately.
Andrew laughed while kissing the side of his head.
“And we both like shark shows,” Colten added excitedly. “An’ lion ones. An’ dinosaur ones. Dad says T-Rex probably had feathers!”
I covered my mouth trying not to laugh.
“You’ve known him an hour, and you’re already filling his head with conspiracy theories.”
“It’s science,” Andrew defended.
“Dino science,” Colten corrected proudly.
I’d never seen him this excited around anyone before.
Not ever.
I reached for Colten so Andrew could flip the burgers easier, but Andrew swerved away slightly with a grin.
“Nah, I got him.”
Colten wrapped both arms around Andrew’s neck immediately.
“Yep. I stayin’ here.”
Something in my chest melted completely.
I stepped closer instead, my hand sliding gently around Andrew’s back while he cooked.
It felt natural.
Too natural.
Like we’d done this a thousand times before, instead of none at all.
Dinner somehow felt normal.
That was the strangest part.
I carried the burgers inside while Andrew followed behind with Colten still attached to him like a baby koala.
The second we entered the kitchen, Colten gasped dramatically.
“Oh no!”
Everybody looked at him.
“We gotta wash our hands!”
Chibs burst out laughing.
“Well damn, little man. You right.”
Andrew set Colten on the counter beside the sink and helped him wash his hands carefully.
“Soap first.”
“I knowwww.”
“Front and back.”
“I knowwwww.”
“Dry ’em good.”
“I KNOW.”
I laughed quietly while setting plates down.
We all sat around the table together afterward while I helped cut Colten’s burger into smaller pieces.
Andrew stayed close enough that our knees brushed under the table every couple minutes.
Neither of us moved away.
Most of dinner was small talk.
Careful.
Testing.
Then Chibs casually mentioned, “Been lookin’ after this one since her dad passed.”
Andrew immediately looked at me.
“I didn’t know that.”
I kept my eyes on my plate.
“We’ll talk later.”
—
After Chibs finally left, the house grew quiet.
Comfortably quiet.
I cleaned the kitchen while Andrew hovered nearby like he didn’t want to be more than five feet away from me.
“You know I can help, right?”
“You grilled. I got dishes.”
“That’s not fair.”
I smiled faintly. “Life’s hard.”
His laugh was soft behind me.
Then came bedtime.
Bath.
Tiny dinosaur pajamas.
Teeth brushing.
Eye drops.
“Nooo, one more part.”
“You said that already.”
He looked up at me with his glossy blue eyes. He knew I could never say no to him.
I sighed dramatically. “Fine. One.”
“Yay!”
Colten curled up against my chest while I read from our current book, The Princess Bride.
Andrew sat quietly in the rocking chair across the room, watching us.
Watching everything.
Like he was trying to memorize it.
Every laugh.
Every cuddle.
Every sleepy blink.
I looked up once and caught tears shining in his eyes.
My chest tightened instantly.
Because I knew exactly what he was thinking.
I missed this.
I missed all of this.
By the time Colten finally fell asleep, drooling against my shirt, Andrew looked wrecked emotionally.
I kissed Colten’s forehead carefully before laying him down and pulling the blankets up around him.
Then Andrew followed me quietly back to my room.
—
The bedroom was dark except for the small lamp beside my bed.
The atmosphere between us had softened completely now.
No anger.
No fear.
Just warmth.
Comfort.
I sat cross-legged beside him, talking quietly while he listened as every word mattered.
“I used to stay up half the night in the nursery,” I admitted with a soft laugh. “Especially when he was little.”
Andrew’s eyes stayed fixed on me.
“He hated sleeping, still does only on occasions though.”
“That tracks.”
I smiled.
“The only way he’d calm down sometimes was if I told him stories while I fed him.”
“What kinda stories?”
I looked down at my hands.
“Us.”
Andrew went still.
“I’d tell him how we met. About the beach.” I smiled faintly. “About how much you would’ve loved him if you knew about him.”
The look Andrew gave me nearly stole the air from my lungs.
Like I was something holy.
Like I’d hung every star in the sky myself.
I opened my mouth to say something—
But he beat me to it.
“Don’t even say anything about my staring.”
I burst out laughing instantly.
Andrew laughed too before suddenly grabbing my waist and pulling me into his lap.
My breath caught immediately.
His hands slid gently up my sides, carefully tucking strands of hair behind my ears while he stared up at me.
Completely wrecked by me.
Then he smirked slightly.
“Now you’re the one staring.”
I barely had time to laugh before his lips crashed into mine.
And God—
The kiss was hungry.
Desperate.
Like years of missing each other had finally snapped all at once.
We were making out like teenagers sneaking around for the first time.
Andrew’s back was pressed against the headboard while I sat in his lap, my fingers tangled deep in his curls as his hands held my face like he still couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch me again. The room was dim except for the lamp beside the bed, warm yellow light spilling across the blankets.
It felt safe.
Too safe.
His mouth moved against mine slow and deep, kissing me like he was trying to memorize me all over again. One hand slid down my spine, pulling me tighter against him until I could feel exactly how much he wanted me.
My breath caught.
“Andrew…”
He hummed softly against my mouth, kissing me harder.
God, I missed this.
Missed him.
Missed the way he touched me like I mattered.His mouth moved against mine slow and deep, one hand sliding up my neck while the other stayed firm against my waist, holding me against him like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go.
I could barely breathe.
“God, I missed you,” he murmured against my lips.
The confession hit me hard enough that I kissed him harder instead of answering.
My fingers tangled deeper into his curls while his mouth traveled down my jaw slowly, kissing along my neck. A soft shiver rolled through me immediately.
Andrew noticed.
Of course he did.
A quiet smirk brushed against my skin before he kissed the sensitive spot just beneath my ear again.
Then suddenly—
He stopped.
Completely.
I blinked, slightly breathless, while his fingers gently turned my face toward the lamp light.
“What?” I whispered.
Andrew was staring at the side of my neck with narrowed eyes, thumb brushing softly just below my ear.
“That wasn’t there before.”
My stomach flipped.
Oh.
The tattoo.
His fingers traced lightly over the small black crow inked behind my ear, his expression shifting from confusion to curiosity.
“A crow?”
I laughed softly, still slightly dizzy from kissing him.
“Yeah.”
“When did you get this?”
“After I had Colten.”
Andrew’s eyes stayed fixed on it while his thumb brushed carefully along the lines of the tattoo.
“Why a crow?”
I smiled faintly.
“Gemma.”
That surprised him enough he looked up immediately.
“Your mom?”
“The one an only.”
Andrew leaned back slightly against the headboard, one hand still resting against my neck while I stayed curled in his lap.
“She said crows survive anything.” I shrugged lightly. “That they’re smart. Protective. Loyal to their families.”
His eyes softened immediately.
“And loud,” I added with a quiet laugh. “Apparently, that part reminded her of me, too.”
Andrew smiled at that.
Then his expression turned more thoughtful while he looked at the tattoo again.
“In Oceanside…” he said quietly, “crows mean death.”
The room went softer somehow after that.
He wasn’t talking about the tattoo anymore.
Not really.
I touched his face gently.
“In Charming,” I whispered, “they mean survival.”
Andrew stared at me for a long moment like the words physically hit him somewhere deep.
Then slowly, he leaned forward and kissed the tattoo behind my ear.
So soft it almost hurt.
My breath caught immediately.
“You survived all of this.” he murmured against my skin.
The sadness in his voice nearly broke me.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders tighter.
Andrew looked at me like he didn’t know what to do with that. Like nobody had ever tied him to something good before.
Then finally he smiled faintly against my mouth again.
“Well,” he muttered softly, kissing me once more, “still jealous the crow gets to live behind your ear permanently.”
I burst out laughing.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet,” he murmured against my lips, “you keep kissing me anyway.”
My fingers hooked into the bottom of his shirt, ready to pull it over his head—
Then my phone rang.
Once.
Stopped.
Then rang again.
I froze immediately.
Deran.
That was our code.
Andrew groaned softly against my neck. “Ignore it.”
“I can’t.”
He dropped his forehead dramatically against my shoulder while I reached blindly for my phone off the nightstand.
“Terrible timing,” he muttered.
I snorted softly while answering.
“Hi, Der.”
The second Andrew heard his brother’s name, his entire expression darkened with annoyance.
Which honestly almost made me laugh.
On the other end of the line, Deran sounded stressed.
“Smurf’s losin’ her shit.”
Andrew rolled his eyes instantly and went right back to kissing along my neck while I tried to focus on the call.
Apparently he’d decided multitasking was possible.
“Popes MIA,” Deran continued.
I bit back a smile.
“Well, I don’t know where he is, Der.”
“Bullshit.”
I laughed quietly.
“He took my car, Y/N. I know he’s there.” A pause. “Did Jax kill him yet?”
That made me fully laugh.
Andrew looked up at me from my neck with narrowed eyes.
“Uh… no,” I admitted. “But I almost did.”
Andrew’s face softened immediately.
“I saw him near Colten and just…” I swallowed hard. “I went full mama bear. I only saw danger.”
The sadness in Andrew’s eyes hit me instantly.
“It’s hard not to think everybody wants to hurt us sometimes.”
His expression fell completely.
He kissed my forehead softly before gently taking the phone from my hand.
“Hi, Deran.”
I watched Andrew carefully while he listened to his brother.
Then his jaw tightened.
“No,” he said flatly. “I’m not coming back tonight.”
My eyebrows lifted in surprise.
Andrew glanced at me briefly before looking away.
“Smurf doesn’t care about me,” he muttered bitterly into the phone. “She cares that her dirty worker disappeared.”
Silence.
Then quieter:
“Can we not do this tonight?”
His thumb brushed softly against my thigh.
“I just wanna enjoy my family.”
Family.
The word hit me so hard my chest physically hurt.
Andrew hung up before Deran could argue more and tossed the phone onto the bed.
For a second neither of us spoke.
Then I touched his cheek gently.
“We have connections here,” I said softly. “With Charming PD. Maybe we could figure something out with your parole.”
Andrew studied me quietly for a moment.
Then:
“Speaking of things you never told me…”
Uh oh.
“Why didn’t you ever mention any of this?” He gestured vaguely around us. “The club. Your dad, or any of your family.”
I sighed immediately and tried climbing off his lap.
Absolutely not.
Andrew wrapped his arms tighter around my waist and pulled me right back against him.
“Andrew—”
“Nope. We’re talking now.”
I rolled my eyes but relaxed against him anyway.
“I didn’t tell you because…” I hesitated. “Because I wanted one thing in my life to just be mine.”
He stayed quiet, listening carefully.
“I was always Jax Teller’s little sister.” I laughed softly without humor. “People either hated me because of the club or wanted something from me because of it.”
Andrew frowned.
“It was hard making friends. Hard dating.” My fingers traced patterns lightly on his chest. “Nobody saw me first. They saw my last name.”
His eyes softened immediately.
“So when I met you…” I looked up at him. “I wanted a clean start. I wanted somebody to know me before all the chaos.”
The look he gave me nearly wrecked me.
Like he understood exactly what it felt like to be trapped under a family name.
Then quietly, he said:
“Julia OD’d right before I got out.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“Oh my God.” I grabbed his hands instantly. “Andrew…”
His eyes dropped toward our tangled fingers.
“She’d been struggling for years,” he said quietly. “Guess it finally caught up to her.”
Pain sat heavy in every word.
“J’s living with Smurf now.” His jaw tightened. “She gave him my room.”
My chest ached for him.
“I hate that bitch.”
A small laugh escaped him.
“Yeah,” he muttered softly. “Me too.”
I leaned forward and kissed his forehead gently before wrapping my arms around him.
He held onto me tighter than before.
Like grief had hollowed him out somewhere deep inside.
A little while later, I slipped into the spare room to grab clothes for him.
Deran always left stuff here, and Jax practically treated my house like his second closet anyway.
I grabbed sweatpants and a shirt before heading back toward my room.
“I found—”
The words died in my throat.
Andrew was sitting against the headboard now with Colten asleep against his chest.
One of his hands rubbed slow circles along our son’s back while Colten snored softly into his shirt.
My heart physically hurt at the sight.
Andrew looked up at me carefully.
“I think he was looking for you.”
I smiled instantly.
“I told you,” I whispered while setting the clothes down quietly. “He never sleeps.”
Andrew laughed softly.
“Apparently not.”
He carefully shifted Colten enough to stand before taking the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom.
I climbed into bed beside my sleeping boy and pulled the blankets higher around him, cuddling him against my side.
A minute later Andrew came back wearing Deran’s sweatpants that were slightly too short on him.
I burst out laughing immediately.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You’re stealing your brother’s clothes.”
Andrew looked down at himself.
“I look good.”
“You look ridiculous.”
He climbed into bed anyway.
Then his expression shifted into something more thoughtful.
“Can I ask you something?”
I tilted my head cautiously.
“Depends.”
He hesitated just long enough to make me nervous.
“…Weren’t you on birth control?”
My jaw dropped.
Then I started laughing so hard I nearly woke Colten up.
Andrew smiled sheepishly.
“I’m serious!”
“I was!” I whispered loudly through laughter. “I was finishing finals, I probably missed a few.”
Then I looked at him more carefully.
“…Do you regret him?”
Andrew’s face fell instantly.
“No.”
The answer came so fast it almost startled me.
“Never.” His voice cracked slightly. “Never say that.”
His eyes dropped toward Colten sleeping between us.
“I just…” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t think anybody would ever wanna start a family with me.”
My heart shattered.
“Baz told me before I left that nobody would ever wanna have a kid with me.”
Anger flooded through me immediately.
I grabbed his chin gently and forced him to look at me.
“Hey.”
His eyes stayed lowered.
“Andrew.”
Finally he looked at me.
“Baz is an asshole,” I said firmly. “He doesn’t know how to love anybody properly, including his own family.”
Andrew stayed quiet.
I brushed my fingers gently through his curls.
“I had your baby,” I whispered. “And I wouldn’t change a single thing.”
Emotion wrecked his entire face.
He leaned forward and kissed me softly.
Then he leaned down and kissed Colten’s forehead too.
And watching them there together—
My boys.
Mine.
I felt something settle inside me for the first time in years.
Andrew reached over and switched off the lamp, moonlight spilling softly through the curtains as the room went dark.
Then the three of us curled together beneath the blankets.
And for the first time in my life—
I fell asleep feeling like I finally had a family.
That was the first full night Andrew had slept in a long time.
I knew because for once, he didn’t toss around beside me. Didn’t jolt awake every hour. Didn’t mumble half-finished thoughts in his sleep like he was still trapped somewhere else mentally.
I don’t think I slept much at all because I spent most of the night staring at him.
In the way, one arm stayed wrapped around Colten even while he slept.
Like his body already knew how to protect him naturally.
By morning, I carefully slipped out of bed without waking him.
The house was quiet except for the sound of cartoons humming softly from the living room and coffee brewing in the kitchen.
Tara show up ten minutes earlier, she was leaning against my counter in scrubs, sipping coffee while Abel and Colten color dinosaurs on the coffee table.
“You look smug,” she said when she saw me.
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re in my house before eight in the morning, judging me?”
“Yes.”
I snorted quietly and poured myself coffee.
Abel suddenly gasped dramatically from the living room.
“Colten! RUN!”
Then came patter of tiny footsteps and shrieking laughter.
The boys tore through the living room like tiny tornadoes while cartoons blasted in the background.
“HE CHEATIN’!” Colten yelled.
“I NOT!”
“You ARE!”
“You a stinky liar!”
I laughed into my coffee.
Tara shook her head fondly. “They’ve been awake for an hour, and are already being tearors.”
“How?” I said shaking my head.
“No idea. They’re powered entirely by chaos.”
Right on cue, Abel screamed loudly while the boys chased each other around the coffee table.
And from down the hallway—
I heard the bedroom door slam open.
Heavy footsteps hit the floor hard and fast.
Andrew.
Panic hit me instantly before I even saw him.
He appeared in the hallway shirtless and breathing hard, eyes wide and frantic, while he scanned the house.
Terrified.
Looking for Colten.
The second his eyes landed on the boys running around the living room, relief physically washed over him so hard his shoulders sagged.
It hit me harder than I expected.
Because that wasn’t an annoyance.
That wasn’t irritation at being woken up.
That was pure fear.
Tara noticed it too immediately.
“Oh my God,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Andrew. I didn’t mean for him to scare you.”
Andrew ran a hand over his face while trying to catch his breath.
“No, it’s okay,” he muttered quietly. “I just…”
Thought something happened.
He didn’t finish the sentence.
Didn’t need to.
I watched his eyes follow Colten automatically while the boys kept screaming and running circles around the couch.
Protective already.
My chest tightened.
Then Tara glanced between the two of us.
Andrew was shirtless, hair messy from sleep, marks from kissing still faint along his neck.
Her eyebrows slowly lifted.
Then wiggled.
I immediately choked on my coffee.
“Tara.”
She burst out laughing while I flipped her off.
Andrew looked completely confused for half a second before realizing what she meant.
Then the smug grin appeared.
God help me.
Before I could threaten either of them, Colten spotted Andrew standing there.
“Dad!”
He launched himself across the room immediately.
Andrew barely had time to brace himself before Colten wrapped around his legs.
“I waked up!”
“I can see that, buddy.”
Colten grabbed his face with both tiny hands and kissed his cheek loudly.
Then immediately dragged Abel over by the arm.
“This my best friend, Abel.”
Abel grinned proudly. “We fight dragons.”
Andrew crouched down to their level.
“Oh yeah?”
“And dinos,” Colten added seriously.
“And sharks,” Abel chimed in.
“Wow,” Andrew nodded solemnly. “Sounds dangerous.”
“It is,” Colten whispered dramatically.
I had to bite my lip to stop laughing.
Tara checked the time before groaning softly.
“Okay, tiny terrorists, I gotta go save lives.”
“Nooo,” Abel whined immediately.
“Yes.” She kissed the top of his head. “And you behave for Auntie Y/N.”
Abel looked personally betrayed.
Tara grabbed her bag before pausing beside me quietly.
“Gemma still picking the boys up later?”
I nodded. “Yeah, or we’ll drop them off. Not sure which doesn’t matter.”
“Good. Gives you two time to talk to the Unser.”
Andrew looked over immediately at that.
Tara smiled softly at him.
“I brought clothes over, too. Jax said you can keep anything that fits.”
Andrew blinked slightly.
“Thanks.”
She waved him off casually like it was nothing.
But I could tell it meant something to him.
People doing things for him without expecting something back still confused him.
After Tara left, Andrew showered while I took the boys outside to burn off some energy before lunch.
The backyard was loud with laughter while Colten and Abel fought over whose turn it was on the swings.
“My turn!”
“No MINE.”
“You had a big turn!”
“You had a bigger turn!”
Andrew stepped outside right then, wearing one of Jax’s old black shirts and jeans.
My stomach immediately flipped.
Jesus Christ.
He looked unfairly good.
He came over and sat beside me on the porch steps quietly, watching the boys chase each other around the swing set.
Then I started laughing.
Andrew looked over immediately.
“What?”
I shook my head smiling.
“You smell like me.”
He frowned slightly before smelling his shirt.
“Yeah, well,” he muttered, “you don’t exactly keep guy products in your shower.”
I grinned into my coffee.
“I never needed to.” I said and he smiled at me.
Andrew looked over at Abel, climbing up the slide backwards.
“That Jax’s kid?”
“Mhm.”
My smile softened slightly.
“His ex-wife used while she was pregnant with him.”
Andrew’s face fell immediately.
“He had a rough start.” I watched Abel carefully. “Honestly, worse than Colten medically.”
Andrew stayed quiet.
“But him and Colten?” I smiled. “Best friends from hell.”
Right on cue, Abel screamed:
“COLTEN ATE DIRT.”
“I DID NOT.”
“You DID.”
“It was an accident!”
Andrew laughed so hard beside me he had to bend forward slightly.
God.
I missed hearing that sound.
—
By lunchtime we loaded the boys into the truck and headed toward the garage.
Andrew carried Colten while I carried Abel on my hip.
The second we pulled into TM, both boys exploded with excitement.
“UNCLE JAX!”
“CHIBBY!”
Abel launched himself at Jax Teller while Colten immediately attached himself to Chibs Telford like a tiny koala.
“I missed ya, wee man,” Chibs laughed while lifting him up.
“I got cereal today!”
“That so?”
“And cartoons!”
“Livin’ the dream then.”
I laughed while walking toward the office.
“Mom!” I yelled. “Your grandbabies are here!”
The office door flew open so fast it almost slammed the wall.
“My babies!”
Both boys screamed happily.
Andrew stood beside me, watching the chaos unfold with this weird, overwhelmed softness in his eyes.
Then unfortunately—
Tig opened his mouth.
“Mornin’, Pope.”
Everything in Andrew immediately hardened.
“That’s not my name here.”
The garage got quieter instantly.
Andrew stepped slightly closer to Tig.
“My name’s Andrew.”
His voice stayed calm.
Too calm.
“I don’t want my past life around my son.”
Tig tilted his head slightly.
“Oh, so now you care about your son?”
“Tig,” I snapped sharply.
The warning in my voice made several heads turn immediately.
“What did I tell you?”
Tig muttered something under his breath and walked away.
I exhaled slowly before turning toward Andrew.
“You okay?”
His jaw flexed slightly.
“Yeah.”
I touched his arm gently anyway before pushing him toward the truck.
“Go wait for me before somebody says something stupid again.”
Andrew smirked slightly.
“Bossy.”
“You love it.”
“Maybe.”
But before we even made it toward the truck, two crow eaters near the clubhouse door spotted Andrew immediately.
One of them smiled.
“Oh, he’s cute—”
Absolutely not.
I moved before she even finished the sentence.
The girl barely had time to react before I grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her backward hard enough to make her squeal.
The entire lot went dead silent.
I got right in her face.
“You or any of your little crow-eater friends touch him,” I said calmly, “I’ll chop your fucking fingers off and feed them to you.”
Behind me, I heard Chibs yell:
“Jesus Christ, lass!”
Behind me I heard Chibs choke on laughter while Tig completely lost his mind cackling.
“That’s our girl!” Tig yelled.
The girl nodded rapidly.
“O-okay!”
I released her hair immediately and turned around like nothing happened.
Andrew was staring at me with the biggest smile I’d ever seen on his face.
“What?” I asked defensively.
He shook his head slowly.
He was staring at me with the biggest grin I’d ever seen on his face.
“Get in the truck. Nothing to see here.” I smiled back at him.
“Sure thing, mama bear.” he replied while climbing into the passenger seat smiling like an idiot the entire time.
When we pulled into the sheriff’s station parking lot, I killed the engine and climbed out of the truck without thinking much about it.
Then I realized Andrew wasn’t beside me.
I looked back and found him still sitting in the passenger seat, hands gripping his knees, eyes locked on the building like it might swallow him whole.
The sheriff’s station sat quiet in the afternoon heat, sunlight glaring off the windows. Deputies moved in and out casually, coffee cups in hand, radios crackling softly on their hips.
To me, it was familiar.
To Andrew?
Probably felt like walking into a cage willingly.
I climbed onto the truck’s step bar and leaned down toward the open window.
“You coming?”
Andrew laughed once under his breath, nervous.
“You know this is the first time I’ve willingly walked into a sheriff’s station, right?”
I smiled softly.
“You’re in Charming now. Slightly less terrifying.”
“Slightly?”
“Depends who’s working.”
That got a small grin out of him.
Finally he climbed out, shutting the truck door behind him before following close beside me into the station.
The second we walked inside, Hale looked up from paperwork at the front desk.
His eyes landed on me and immediately narrowed.
“Jesus Teller,” he sighed dramatically. “What problems are you dragging in here now?”
I put a hand against my chest, offended.
“Do you even know how to smile, Hale?”
Behind him, Kunes laughed while filling his coffee mug.
“You have a second?” I asked him
“Anything for my favorite Teller girl.” He responded
I pointed at him immediately.
“Oof, don’t let Gemma hear you say that.”
Kunes snorted while motioning us toward his office.
Andrew stayed quiet beside me the entire walk back, shoulders tense enough I could practically feel it radiating off him.
Once the office door closed behind us, I explained everything.
Andrew’s parole.
Smurf.
The situation in Oceanside.
How we were trying to see if there was any way to quietly move him to Charming without setting off alarms.
Kunes listened carefully the entire time, expression growing more serious the longer I talked.
Finally he sighed heavily.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
My stomach dropped immediately.
“There’s not much I can do officially,” he admitted. “Parole transfers like this? They get noticed.”
Andrew’s jaw tightened beside me.
Kunes looked directly at him.
“And even if I pulled strings…” he hesitated carefully, “there’s no guarantee your mother wouldn’t track you here eventually.”
The room went quiet.
Andrew looked defeated.
Not angry.
Not frustrated.
Just tired.
Like someone who’d finally let himself hope for something only to have it ripped away again.
Kunes leaned forward slightly.
“If there was something I could do quietly, I would.” His voice softened. “But I can’t promise protection from someone like Smurf.”
Andrew nodded once.
“I understand.”
But I could hear the disappointment in his voice anyway.
A/N: Thanks for all the love; it's much appreciated. I will get the next part out tomorrow. Thank you for your patience. If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please comment so. Love every single one of yous.
Heeeeey 👋🏼 just stopping by to say i love your crazy beautiful mind and never stop the crazy smut💖🤪 I also wanna pick your brain on shawn characters and how one way or another they are always obsessed with reader... but how would each character react to reader being slapped? 👀 deadly for sure buuut what are your thoughts?
that is a good question bc I think in canon, they'd all react in a certain type of way but in MY dark!canon 🤭 i think:
- dark!jack would see you, nurse!reader, get slapped by a patient at work maliciously and from there, he has the patient's chart pulled up, address memorized, medications documented so when he swaps them out for other, deadlier pills, no one will notice a thing about that person randomly dropping dead one day and you can't help but be grateful they're dead bc that means less paperwork for you...but the toxicology report matches the pills you saw jack check out a while back for "no reason"...
- dark!titus would see you, maid!reader, get slapped by his father at the danforth estate and his blood would boil. bc who the hell does chester think he is touching titus's maid? you're his maid. no one gets to touch you but him! so when you go to clean his father's room for the day and his father has died in his sleep, you feel an odd sense of relief but also suspicion...bc you saw titus adding some strange powder to chester's drink before bed last night...
- dark!pope would see you, lena's babysitter!reader, get slapped by baz for doing something wrong and pope will have started to throw hands right then and there. bc he was there the whole time and you did nothing but love lena like he does. you would scream for him to stop bc by the time pope does, baz's face is practically smashed in. and pope warns that if he ever touches you again, he'll kill him. and you can't help but like that pope is so willing to defend you...
- dark!sammy will see you, dog walker!reader, get slapped by tammi for catching her with weed, which always get richter all worked up. you explained to her that her dog shouldn't be under so much stress all the time and she slaps you for scolding her. so sammy finds a way to get tammi arrested so he doesn't have to deal with and so that he has a great excuse to keep seeing you "bc my wife is in prison and someone has to watch my dog so why dont you live with me and take care of him for me" and ofc you accept but...you're sure that tammi never did what she got arrested for...
summary: you've been teasing pope cody for months while working at the drop, and he's finally had enough.
a/n: oh pope cody, you're so dreamy <3 any feedback is appreciated, thanks for reading!
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━━━━━ ⊱⋆⊰ ━━━━━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
The front door to The Drop opened, despite closing an hour ago.
“We’re closed!” you called, back facing the door. “Sorry! I forgot to lock up!”
“I’m not a customer.”
“Oh, oops,” you giggled, turning towards him with a wave. “Hi, Pope.”
“Busy night?”
“Kind of. Nothing to write home about,” you said with a smile. Pope stood near the door, unmoving.
“Are you okay?”
“Um, yes.” He shifted on his feet. “We just. We need to talk.”
“Yeah, of course,” you said with confusion, crossing your arms.
“I am going to be very honest with you.” Pope made the empty bar feel even more silent.
“Oh… Okay?”
“I want you. I have wanted you since I’ve met you, and if I don’t get you I am going to lose my mind,” he sounded hoarse.
“Really?” your arms tightened across your chest.
“Don’t act like there hasn’t been a thing here,” Pope chided.
He was right. For months, you have practically played in his face and pushed the limits of Pope Cody. You flirted too much, you got too close, you touched him like he was yours.
“What was the last straw?” you asked out of curiosity.
“Today. In the hallway. When you squeezed past me and shoved your ass on my dick,” his frustration almost sounded like anger.
“I’m not good at being subtle, I’ll give you that.”
“No, you’re not,” Pope covered his mouth and took a deep breath. “If you’re going to torture me, it’s only fair I do the same to you.”
Your heartbeat quickened as he took his leather jacket off, exposing his sculpted arms. He slowly walked over to you, never breaking eye contact.
“Take your top off,” Pope commanded. He stood in front of you, fists balled.
Your mouth went dry as you obediently lifted the shirt. You hesitated once the tank top got to your chest. You were braless, and would be standing in front of Pope Cody, exposed.
“Keep going,” Pope said, taking a step closer to you.
You continued, letting your breasts free. Your skin prickled and nipples hardened from the sudden cool air. Instinctively, you covered them with your hands but Pope moved your arms down to your sides.
“You have no reason to cover up,” he said while looking you up and down. “Your body is incredible.”
He got even closer, letting a hand find the small of your back while the other dragged down the center of your chest. His touch was inquisitive and sensitive. You looked down to watch him cup your left breast, squeeze your nipple, then do the same to your right.
You pressed into his body, and felt him grow through his jeans as he explored. His touch made your core grow hot with wanting.
You reached up to wrap your hands around his neck, but Pope backed away.
“Not yet,” he said gruffly. “Let me touch you.”
His hands wandered across your stomach and down to the waist of your jeans. He dipped his fingers beneath the denim.
With fingers still resting in your waistband, he looked at you, blinking. Pope leaned down, faltered for a moment, then kissed you.
His lips felt stiff with unsurety, but your kisses softened him. Your hands found his strong chest as intensity took over your mouth. Pope tasted like sweet menthol, and you bit his lip trying to taste more.
He stepped back again suddenly looking at you, breathing heavily. He ran his hands through his hair then reached for your pants calmly and with control.
Pope slowly unzipped your jeans, and you squirmed in the hopes he’d go faster.
“Feeling impatient?” he breathed into your mouth between kisses. “So have I.”
He curled his fingers around your belt loops and yanked the jeans down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your flowery cotton panties.
“Look at you standing here,” Pope growled in your ear. “How long have you been wanting me to see you like this?”
“Since the first day I met you,” you replied between the light kisses you were leaving on his jaw.
“Oh, baby.” Pope cupped your ass, pulling you in close enough to feel how hard his dick had become, and lifted you on the bar. He stared at your bare thighs and rubbed his calloused hands on them with a groan. “You are so beautiful.”
Pope climbed on the bar and knelt beside you. His hands found your thighs again and he pulled you towards him, motioning for you to lay back on the lacquered bar top with a nod.
The pendant lights above you were warm against your bare skin and spotlighted your whole body. Pope stared above you, using his finger to trail from your sternum to your navel.
“You’re so perfect, y’know that? For months, I’ve wanted to just touch you. That would have been enough.” Pope crawled on top of you, sticking his strong thigh between your legs, leaning down to kiss you. “But now, I want to taste you.”
You moaned at his admission, lightly grinding yourself against his leg. He smiled at your desperation before quickly moving his thigh away from your wet core. He slowly kissed down your neck and chest, stopping at each breast to bite your hard nipples. Pope continued his kisses down your stomach until he got to the hem of your underwear.
“I didn’t imagine you’d wear such innocent panties,” he commented before tugging at the ruffled edge with his teeth.
“I left my slutty pair at home,” you said through a swallow. You moved slightly, sitting on your elbows to watch him explore. Pope used his nose to trail down your crest, nudging your sensitivities through the thin cotton.
“Fuck, baby. You're absolutely soaked.” He sounded amused. Pope mouthed your clit over the panties, making your hips buck from desperation. The muffled pleasure wasn’t enough, and it drove you crazy.
“Take them off,” you whined. Pope looked up and smiled.
“Beg for it,” he demanded, almost growling.
“Please take them off.”
“More.”
“Please, Pope,” you whimpered. “Take them off for me.”
He stared directly into your eyes as he rolled them down your legs with one hand, tossing them aside. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, splaying you open and pulling your core closer to Pope’s mouth.
“God damn,” he spoke into your slit. “You look perfect. All spread out for me.”
Pope kissed around your inner thighs and at the top of your crest, ignoring the throbbing coming from your clit.
“Please, Andrew,” you moaned with everything you had. “Make me cum.”
“Andrew? You must want this. So badly.”
“I do. I really fucking do.”
He plunged into you, his tongue dancing in circles around your aching clit. Your back arched from pleasure and your hands found Pope’s hair, tugging at his curls. He began to suck, making your hips roll indulgently against the pressure.
“Oh my God,” you moaned, wrapping your legs around his head. “Don’t stop.”
Pope’s tongue swirled around you while his finger found your entrance. He teased your slit before driving his finger in you, curling it to find your sweet spot.
“Andrew,” you gasped. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Cum for me, baby,” Pope muttered, finger still pumping, mouth never leaving your clit. “Fucking cum all over my face.”
You released, letting your hips spasm against his grip. Gasping, you rode the orgasm rhythmically against his mouth.
“That’s it. That’s it, baby,” Pope cooed as you finished. You stared into his eyes, watching him drink your pleasure.
Taking a breath, you sat up and pulled Pope up beside you. You grabbed the hem of his shirt, hungrily pulling it over his head.
“I want you inside of me,” you demanded, reaching for the button on his jeans. He let you unbutton them, the zipper moving autonomously from the pressure of his hard cock.
You slowly pulled his jeans down and reached for his underwear. Pope was huge, and he sprung free from his boxers.
He watched you admire his manhood, then stopped you from stroking him.
“No. Not yet,” he breathed. He cupped his hand in front of your mouth and you spit into it. He rubbed it all over his throbbing member, squeezing and stroking himself while he kicked off his jeans and boxers.
“The first time I want to feel you is wrapped around me.” Pope pulled you closer towards him and positioned himself by your entrance. He used his free hand to cradle your head, kissing you.
“You ready, baby?” Pope asked. You nodded, biting your lip. He stared into your eyes as he slowly pushed into you, his size making you wince.
“Fuck,” you groaned.
“Are you okay?”
“Don’t stop,” you cried out. The pleasure overtook the pain, and you wrapped your arms around Pope’s neck, moaning into his shoulder.
“You feel so good. So tight,” Pope murmured. He slowly pumped in and out of you, banging a fist on the bar top.
“You’re going to make me lose control.”
“Do it, baby. Show me what it looks like when Pope Cody loses control,” you whispered into his ear before biting his lobe.
Pope supported your head as dug his forearms into the bar. The slow pumps turned into reckless thrusts that hit your core.
“You feel that?” Pope groaned. “My cock fucking your perfect pussy?”
You whined after each thrust and tightly wrapped your legs around his torso, forcing his cock deeper into you.
“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna fucking cum,” Pope growled in your ear.
“I want you to cum, baby. I want you to cum inside of me.” You tightened your grip around him.
“Oh fuck. Inside of you?”
“Inside of me. Deep inside of me,” you cooed. His thrusts grew erratic and Pope began to moan.
“Fuck, I’m cumming,” he sounded strained, and you felt him throb as he filled you with his load. “Oh, fuck.”
He collapsed on top of you, kissing your neck.
“I’ve wanted that for so long,” Pope whispered, rubbing circles on your cheek with his thumb.
“Do you want to make this thing a regular occurrence?”
“Only if you promise to keep rubbing up against me when you walk by,” he asked with a smile.
