Celegorm got lost in the woods and found himself camping right next to camp half blood. These feral children are a bit bloodthirsty but he can handle it until of course said bloodthirsty children tries adopting him out of his little hut.
Percy broke more than just a little after Tartaraus, after war. He and Annabeth decided to split up. The memories too heavy a burden that strained their relationship. He found his purpose in helping out young demigods in camp.
Its all good, that is until the kids dragged in an 8 foot tall stranger with blonde hair so light it almost looks like silver, dressed like a hunter yet has a face of a nymph.
In the transition period between the dragon myth and this new one⌠what if Sylus witnessed the Sorceress�
Sylus only saw the Sorceress once. It was still quite some time before the Mage would take the stage. Newly emerged in the Underworld, there was still much Sylus didnât know or understand. Being summoned the first time was jarring.
He felt it as an insistent yanking. A grating demand to for his obedience. His uncertainty in his own person limited his ability to fight the magic that drew him from the Underworld. The mage that called on what they thought was a mid-level fiend could never have anticipated the monster it dragged up from the depths of hell.
âI-It worked?â The mage clapped their hands together, a wide grin splitting their nearly obscured features by the hood they wore. âNow, fiend, I have something importantâŚâ
The mage trailed off as Sylus had turned to over a burning city. He stood atop a great, ornate tower to bear witness to the destruction of countless lives. Their blood and terror reached him all this distance away.
Head tilted in curiosity, Sylus posed a question to the mage.
âWhy does the city burn?â
Scuttling over beside the fiend, the mage blustered while running their sweaty palms down their robes.
âItâs the horrific Sorceress!â The mage hissed. âThey say she slayed the last dragon in all of Philos and devoured its power. Now she is no better than a dragon herself! Youâre going to help me slay her.â
That pulled a bark of laughter from the very depth of Sylusâs soul. There was familiarity in the story. Something heâs forgotten; connected to this sorceress. What he did know with concerning certainty was that every inch of his being would never raise a finger against her.
âNo⌠no, I will not.â Sylus grew a wicked grin as a wave of power emanated from the crumbling city center.
The screams of the city folk were the choir to Sylusâs stalking approach to the mage. The spell caster threw everything at him in increasing desperation. The stench of fear distracted from the enchanting allure of the spice and smoke that belonged to the source of that great burst of power.
âYouâre supposed to obey me!â The mage screeched, falling back onto their ass as they threw another weak fireball at him.
Sylus brushed the wispy embers from the spell off his shoulder as he stared down his nose with disdain at the mage. A carefully poised shoe eases down on the bare throat of the mage. A flicker of movement in his peripheral and blood red mist impaled the wayward mageâs hand that had gripped a ritualistic dagger. The dagger clattered to the stone floor as more pressure was placed on their throat.
Glancing back towards the city, Sylus felt a visceral reaction burn through his veins.
There, hovering in the air above the city, was this terrifying dragon-sorceress the mage spoke of.
Her back was to the grand tower, but there was no mistaking the way great wings beat at her back nor the scaled tail swaying to keep her balanced. She held a great, massive blade in her hand that made the fiendâs heart race faster.
Even from this great distance, something within him knew that she was a ball of fury and pain. Her great wail to the sky tore at something inside him before it was overcome with pride as power coalesced along that terrifying blade.
âThis world will lie in ruins.â Her haunting voice echoed. Sylus forgot what it was to breathe. âBe devoured by the AbyssâŚâ
Then, the dragon-sorceress launched her power-infused blade towards the city. Sylus has never seen such a great display of power as the earth shattered and crumbled at the impact point. Fire and darkness creeped from the shattered stone to devour the souls of those unfortunate enough to dare draw breath in her presence.
âDoomsday⌠DescendsâŚâ
The mage clawed at Sylusâs shoe, pathetic tears and mucus spilling from swollen features.
âNo⌠why⌠why?!â
It dawned on Sylus then that the magic user mustâve had someone dear to them in that city now being devoured by a sorceressâs fury.
âItâs amusing you think you have the ability to command me.â Sylus drawled, eyes still on the sorceress. âThose only with a power like hers⌠can even fathom the thought of commanding me.â
Sylus didnât bother to amend the statement as he felt the mage break the binding spell that tethered Sylus to this world in which he didnât belong. No one but that sorceress could ever have what it took to command him. He had no proof, but itâs something he knew in the marrow of his bones.
It was a fact cemented in the final moments of his time in this world when she turned towards the mage tower and their eyes met even so far away. It was like being able to take a breath for the first time after being held underwater for so long. Burning lungs gasping for life-giving air. He witnessed a flicker of recognition in her wild eyes in that final moment before the Underworld finally consumed him once again.
To be back in this place for the unwanted and forgotten⌠Sylus stared out of the gray expanse of nothing and sighed. Heâd ponder this brief experience for centuries to come.
ăăăăăăăăăăăăăăăăăall eyes on me when I walk in
ăăăăăăăăăăăăno question that this girl's a ten âĄ
gimme context insanely beautiful reader receives too much attention for the LIs liking
gigi says im ngl this is in order of the one i like the most to the least except sylus and zayne should be flipped :p
tag youre it fem!reader, incl raf xav cal sy zay, fluff, very short, really pretty reader aka you hehe
Rafayel
He already knows your beauty has been carved by the gods, so the attention you receive isnât a huge shock, but he doesnât try to hide how much he hates it
Youâre constantly stopped on the streets by street interviewers, scouts for girl groups and men who annoyingly canât take no for an answer
Rafayel canât always be there due to your schedules clashing more often than not, but when he is there, heâs playing maze runner with you, trying to dodge all the people attempting to strike up a conversation
âCutie, letâs check out this museumâ
âThereâs a new photo booth that opened up, we havenât taken some in soooooo longâ
âThereâs a cat cafe! Letâs check it out⌠what do you mean I hate cats? A man canât have a change of heart?â
Donât let a man or anyone, for that matter, achieve getting a few words out of you; youâll have to take care of a sulky fishy for as long as he deems fit
âYou got approached? What was their eye colour?..... Why do you remember their eye colour? Were they really that enchanting? Do you even remember mine?â
Heâll cover his eyes with his hands and wonât put them down until you recall every shade in his irises, even after that, his pout wonât fully disappear until you kiss him over and over when you get home
Xavier
Pouting. Instantly.
The woman was walking away after getting your outfit details when you turned around. Xavier was looking at a brick wall as if it had the Mona Lisa on it. You tried tapping his shoulder, but he wouldnât turn around, even when you asked what was wrong
âWhy didnât they ask me? I could probably tell them what youâre wearingâŚthatâs a teacher bag, right?â
Coach, but close enough
Your failed attempt at hiding your giggles finally got him to turn around, uncontrollably smiling at your laughs, you took the opportunity to hook your arm with his and pull him towards the cafe, apologising for taking away your attention from him
He tries to continue pouting, but your bright smile and eyes that look like they have shooting stars in them make him forget all about what he was upset about
âItâs fine, just donât let others think they can get close to you. Iâm the only one that can, right?â
Caleb
His eye has never twitched so much in one day
You walked out to the living room to a waiting Caleb who was buffering at the sight of you. Your hair smelled like flowers when you walked by him, your skin was glowing, your lips were glossed and plump, and Calebâs patience was already chipping away the second you walked out the door with him
Apparently, Caleb drank an invisibility potion before he left the house because this was the fifth man who asked for your number when he was right beside you, you politely declined every time and gestured to him to tell them youâre taken
If only you knew it wasnât your words that made them leave, it was Caleb's death stare that had them stumbling on their own feet, trying to get away
You were confused by their sudden fear because when you turned to Caleb, he had the sweetest expression on his face, with a hand stretched out waiting for you to take it
âDoes it bother me that you receive attention? Nah, because I know youâll never give it back, Iâm the only one worthy of your time.â
Sylus
His cocky smirk faded into a small, starstruck smile when you finally arrived at the cafe, and people parted like the Red Sea at the sight of you walking in. He couldâve sworn there were angels playing harps behind you
âSorry, I overslept. I didnât have enough time to get ready,â He sighs in awe. If thatâs the unready look, he wants to move in with you already
âItâs alright, I ordered for you-â
âExcuse meâ A woman walks up to you, shyly stopping you from sitting down. âSorry to interrupt, but could I get your number?â
You do your usual âsorry Iâm with the scary guy over thereâ and the woman apologises and leaves, you sit down and look up to see his previous smile zip shut and his eyes trying to hide their irritation
âAre they unable to see me? Should I buy a headband that says, âIâm her boyfriend, leave her alone?ââ
You chuckle, âShe meant no harm, plus Iâm here for you, not themâ
âI know theyâre incomparable to me... Iâm full of myself? Anybody who has won someone over three times would be arrogantâ
Zayne
âAlright, so thatâs a vanilla and chocolate swirl soft serve, a strawberry sundae and a chocolate chip cookie dough soft serve. Total is $18. Are you doing cash or card?â
You were lucky enough to find twenty dollars in a jacket pocket yesterday and decided to treat Zayne with some ice cream at the park
âCash pleaseâ, youâre pulling out a note from your wallet when a man holds up the money to the cashier
âDonât worry, Iâll get it in exchange for a date?â internally, youâre cringing at this flirting tactic, but this has happened enough to build a good poker face, so you smile and politely decline his offer, handing your own cash to the cashier
âNo, itâs okay, thank you, thoughâ Your wrist is grabbed by the man mid-way as he practically shoves the money into the poor cashier thatâs forced to watch this
Heâs about to say some other corny line when Zayne places a twenty-dollar note on the counter, which the cashier takes gratefully, takes the man's hand off of your wrist and pulls you far enough from the man but close enough to hear your order get called out
Youâre standing in silence for a minute or so when you realise you never paid for the ice cream
âSorry for not payingâ
âItâs alright, but promise to leave the next time that happens. I can't always be there to help youâŚyouâre that thankful? Maybe you should buy me a second round of dessert to show how appreciative you are.â
Š gigienie
ooooo you wanna like and reblog soo baaddđŚšđŚšđŚšđŚšđŚšđŚšđŚšđŚšđŚšđŚšđŚšđŚš
hihi! I have a smau request that I think will be funny
(Pre-relationship) how would the guys react to mc making the first move by confessing/asking them out before they could đ¤
đ đŽđŞđđđŞđ°đŻ đľđŠđŞđŻđ¨đ´ đ đ¤đ˘đŻ đ´đ˘đş | (pre-relationship) LADS + when you make the first move
warnings: fluff, me officially addressing the elephant in the room (calebâs connection with you) and coming out as an âMC/you never saw him that wayâ truther for my smaus mianhae (I respect other peoples interpretations tho this is just my truth) PIPL is chinese HIPAA
synopsis. caleb graduates from the academy, but when you unexpectedly tap him out, a tradition where loved ones step forward to formally release a pilot from their duty, he realizes no achievement compares to having you by his side. (based on this.)
word count. 1.1k
an. loved doing this for codghost so i might as well do it for this man. lets pretend they have the tradition in their universe. okay? okay.
caleb stood in the crowd, his posture rigid and form still with precision despite the celebration around him. cheers echoed through the room, but they sounded distant, muffled. he watched as pilots, one by one, were tapped out by their loved ones. parents embracing their children, lovers reuniting in tearful hugs.
his chest tightened as his eyes scanned the room. he was waiting for gran, the one person he knew would come. gran had always shown up, had always been his anchor. he learnt not to expect anything more, not to hope for anyone else.
but then, like a shift in the universe, caleb felt you before he saw you.
when you stepped into the room, it was as if the entire world faded away. time slowed, the noise dimmed, and the lights seemed to soften, catching on the edges of your features. you looked beautiful, achingly so. heartbreakingly out of reach. you werenât supposed to be here, not after the fight, not after the cruel words youâd both thrown at each other before he left.
you moved toward him with purpose, cutting through the room like you were meant to be there all along.
caleb couldnât breathe. he couldnât think.
his hands trembled at his sides as he watched you close the distance between you. he could act all stoic, but his heart didnât feel stoic enough to make him calm.
when you stopped in front of him, there were tears already brimming in your eyes. his carefully constructed control, unshakable during training, steadfast through every grueling challenge, began to crumble.
caleb had faced impossible physical challenges, the grueling expectations of training, and the endless psychological evaluations that pushed him to the edge. but none of those had broken him nearly like you did. you, standing here, looking at him like that.
you were his undoing.
you should be his first sign. the first sign that there was something wrong with him. because you were his obsession. the one he was slowly losing control over.
caleb was not allowed to fall in love with you.
he trembled as your fingers brushed against his, tapping him out of his frozen misery. the soft touch was meant to symbolize recognition, acknowledgment. but to caleb, it was so much more.
you were here. you were real.
there was no second-guessing, no hesitation. before he could stop himself, his arms were around you, pulling you into him with a force that left him breathless. a strangled sigh escaped his lips and found its home in the crook of your neck, right where your heart beats: friends, friends, friends.
he held you like a man drowning, and you were the only thing keeping him afloat. he felt the soft shake of your shoulders, the warmth of your tears against his neck, and he couldnât hold back any longer.
âi didnât think youâd come,â he whispered, his voice low and raw, breaking under the weight of his emotions. you pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. there was something in his gaze, but before you could respond, he spoke again, quieter this time, like a vow. âiâll never let you go.â
the words made you shiver. they were so soft you almost didnât catch them.
âyou can try,â you joked, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to lighten the mood. a nervous laugh escaped as you gently pushed against his chest, pretending to escape his embrace. âyou love me, i get it.â
but caleb didnât loosen his hold. instead, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your temple. there was a quiet laugh, quiet and unsteady, before he murmured, âyou have no idea, pipsqueak.â
his voice was filled with something raw, something deeper than you could fully understand. it wasnât just love. it was obsession, devotion, a yearning that had no end.
you smelled like honey. like the same thing youâd been smelling your entire life that made you feel like home in a way that hotels and dorm beds could never manage.
he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, shining pin theyâd given him for finishing aerospace academy. it gleamed in the light, a symbol of everything heâd fought to achieve. without a word, he placed it carefully in your palm.
your fingers brushed his as you took it, and the touch sent sparks up his arm. with careful, deliberate precision, you pinned it to his chest. caleb didnât move, his gaze fixed on you, watching every motion, every soft touch of your fingers against his uniform.
âthey should give you a medal instead for doing so well,â you teased softly, smiling up at him.
once the pin was secure, you smoothed down his uniform, your fingers lingering against the fabric. it was such a small gesture, but it felt so intimate that calebâs breath hitched.
he tried his best not to be frantic, but it was almost impossible when he was overloaded with want, want, want, and with the feeling that this might not happen again, with the fear that if caleb thought about it too hard, heâd stop himself before he did too much.
he couldnât stop himself any longer. leaning down, he kissed your cheek, his lips lingering on your skin. he didnât move away immediately, letting the moment stretch as he closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of you.
he felt like a criminal on the run, but it was too good to withdraw from. so, he overdosed on unrequited love.
when he finally pulled back, there was a soft, almost shy smile on his lips. his voice was low, but full of meaning. âi already have my reward.â
you looked up at him, your cheeks warm, his cap still sitting crooked on your head. for a moment, neither of you spoke, and the weight of everything unsaid lingered between you.
and caleb, looking at you, standing there with your fingers still on his uniform, knew it was the absolute truth. you didnât realize it, but you were the center of his universe. his greatest test, his deepest weakness, and the one thing he could never, ever let go of.
iâm a fool, he decided. damned in the bits of exhaustion at pulling and pushing at whateverâs left of trying.
the noise of the crowd finally broke through the haze, the sound of laughter and celebration pulling you both back to the present. caleb stepped back slightly, watching as you adjusted his cap, your smile soft but hesitant.
you didnât have to know the struggle heâd endured to get here, the battles heâd fought within himself.
you were his obsession. his reason for everything. and he was losing control, but he didnât care. because having you here, now, was all that mattered.
he can be just like a pathetic, wet dog. heâd get on his knees and beg in an instant if it meant youâd forgive him.
tags: crying, begging, crawling, some of them are kinda manipulative (cough xavier rafayel caleb cough)
[Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb]
Xavier
he was originally supposed to be your undercover partner for an upcoming mission, but because of something regarding the backtrackers that he couldnât tell you more about he realised he wouldnât be able to accompany you.
so when you tell him that youâve been assigned a different male partner to join you, his eyes widened.
he grabs your wrist, gentle but desperate.
you pull free.
he drops.
knees hit the floor hard enough you hear the thud.
âdonât,â he says, voice already cracking. eyes huge, glassy, filling fast. âplease. iâm sorry. iâll figure something out. iâll join you. just donât go with someone else.â
tears spill immediately. no warning. tracking down his cheeks while he stares up at you like youâre about to vanish.
âi didnât mean to bail on you. i messed up. but im your partner,â his breath shudders. âi donât want you to rely on someone else. iâll do better. iâll be better. please.â
he crawls forward one step on his knees. hands reaching for yours, shaking.
âiâll do anything,â he whispers. âanything you want. just⌠forgive me. please. iâm begging you.â
tears drip onto the floor between you.
he doesnât wipe them.
just kneels there, trembling, waiting for you to bend to his whims.
Zayne
it was small, he forgot to tell you heâd be late from surgery again. you say âi feel like an afterthought sometimes,â and you tell him you need sometime to think.
Once you start leaving the living room,
he stands up fast. chair scrapes.
then he drops.
knees hit the rug and heâs crawling forward.
âdonât,â he says, voice low, breaking. eyes already wet. âdonât leave like this.â
tears fall before he can stop them. silent. steady. sliding down his face while he looks up at you like youâre holding his heart in your hands.
âiâm sorry. i love you more than life itself.â his throat works. more tears. âif you walk out that door because of me⌠i donât think iâll recover.â
you look down at him flabbergasted, never having him seen act like this before.
âiâll change my schedule. iâll come home earlier. iâll tell you everything. just, please donât go.â
tears drip off his jaw onto your fingers when you finally let him hold your hand.
he presses his forehead to your knuckles.
still kneeling and still crying and still terrified youâll walk away anyway.
Rafayel
it started with him taking you along one of his âtripsâ that he would spend researching something regarding lemurians.
however, he hadnât mentioned beforehand how youâd basically have to sit locked in the hotel room all day while he disappeared on his little outings.
once youâre fed up with him leaving you alone all day, you tell him you want to leave.
and heâs across the room in a heartbeat.
then on his knees in front of you, blocking your path.
tears spill over immediately, messy, fast, tracking down his cheeks while he stares up at you.
âi know iâm selfish,â he says, shaking. âi know i disappear into my head. into my work. into memories of you that hurt more than they help. but if you go-â his breath hitches. âif you go iâll drown. iâll actually drown this time.â
more tears. shoulders trembling.
he reaches for your legs, wraps his arms around your thighs, face pressed to your stomach like heâs trying to anchor himself.
âiâll open the door,â he sobs. âiâll let you in. i need you here with me. iâll stop hiding. just- please donât leave. i canât do this without you. iâll die without you.â
tears soak into your shirt.
he clings harder.
âiâm begging,â he whispers, voice muffled, broken. âplease. donât go.â
kneeling there like a man praying to the only god he believes in.
Sylus
sylus would do anything to appease you, thereâs nothing too embarrassing, nothing heâs too prideful to do.
when he says heâll do anything to stay in your good graces, he means anything
including getting onto his knees and begging for forgiveness.
it was nothing, him snapping at you over something small, you snapping back âmaybe i should just leave if iâm such a problem.â
the room goes silent.
then he drops.
knees hit marble. loud.
âdonât,â he says, voice low, amusement gone instantly. looking up at you with big eyes, âdonât say that.â
the look on his face tugs at your heartstrings, the frown giving you cuteness aggression, you almost forget heâs a 28 year old man who regularly kills people.
âi didnât mean it, my love. you know iâd never want you to get upset.â his breath shudders. âwonât you forgive me?â
heâs practically looking at you like you stabbed him now(filled with devotion, love sick, if that wasnât clear).
he reaches for you, hands engulfing yours.
âiâll stop. iâll back off. iâll let you call every shot. iâll burn every plan i ever made if it means youâll stay.â his voice is incredible soft. âi built everything i have for you. now that youâre here, i need you more than i need to breathe. please, donât go. iâm begging you.â
and heâs got you exactly where he wants you once he sees the way youâre blushing.
Caleb
it started over him hovering again, checking your gear, asking if youâre sure youâre okay, you finally saying âiâm not fragile, caleb. stop acting like iâll break. i donât need you.â
he goes quiet.
then his face crumples.
eyes fill instantly.
first tear falls before he can blink.
âdonât say that,â he says, his voice cracking. âplease, you donât mean that.â
tears roll down his cheeks fast, lashes wet, all while he stares at you like you already walked out.
âif i donât protect you, who will?â he chokes. âi know it drives you insane. but i donât know what iâd do with myself,â his breath shudders. âif something happened to you. donât you feel the same way about me?â
more tears. shoulders shaking.
and the way he drops to his knees makes you wince, the thud echoing in the apartment.
he presses his palms flat against the floor, like heâs begging.
âiâll stop. iâll back off. iâll let you fall if you want to fall. just, donât leave me behind.â his voice breaks. âyouâre all iâve ever had. youâre all iâve ever wanted. please donât take that away. iâm begging you.â
tears drip onto his fingers.
he presses his forehead to your stomach.
cries quietly, shoulders heaving, breaths ragged.
âi love you,â he whispers, so small, almost scared. âdonât go. please. iâll be better. i swear.â
colonel caleb and assistant!nonMC!reader, who he's desperately in love with part 2
warnings. angst, boss x employee dynamic, suicidal ideation, caleb going through it, caleb hates his job, fluff, comfort, boy is whipped, teeny bit suggestive at the end
preview. It comes uninvited, like a part of himself is trying to remind himself that he's still human, even with the damn chip in his brain. Your face, bright and out of place in the sterile emptiness of his mind. The way you frown at him like he's something worth worrying about. When did you come to mean so much to him?
wc. 2.6k
a/n. part 1 part 3 this is a prelude to the original one-shot i wrote for this (and slightly an afterlude towards the end)! thank you for the love on the previous one--you're all so sweet <3
The colonel cannot afford to show weakness.
He often wonders when he started seeing himself as the colonel instead of Caleb Xia. Was it since the moment of the explosion? Since he âdiedâ? Since he had to cut contact with the only family left in this wretched world who might care for him? When pressing the nozzle of his gun against another assassin became the norm? When had the stench of blood stopped bothering him?
His days donât feel like his own anymore. He supposes they arenâtâconsidering the toring chip in his brain that monitors all semblance of his past self. He works, works some more, eats, and then sleeps to do it all over again. Just enough to keep his body alive. Just enough to keep himself upright.
Every, fucking, day.
He watches his subordinates gush about returning to their loved ones as his ship approaches home base after a three-week-long excursionâone he didnât think heâd make it out of. The bags beneath his eyes settle darkly, the area around his jaw itchy from the stubble growing for the entirety of the trip. Though his subordinates are in similar shape, their eyes remain bright, glimmering with a hope that even those in his field somehow manage to have. The hope of home.
He had that once, too.
All he has now, is a cold, lifeless apartment to go back to. With plastic still wrapped around his furniture and the fridge empty except for a few bottles of alcohol and an apple. Heâd never found much purpose in making the apartment look more like hisâbecause it wasnât his home anyway. Not when he had nobody to welcome his return.
Just a loud, ticking clock he wants to throw away.
When Caleb returns to the base, heâs the only one that stays past dark while everyone else rejoices to return home for a fresh shower. He opts to wash his hair in the sink beside his office instead, the icy water doing little to add to the numbness of his skin, if it does anything at all. He stares at himself in the mirror, blinking slowly, and then decides he should really shave.
What a mess. His eyes bore holes into the dog tag he carries everywhere. It feels like an omen of luck, while it remains a burden in his chestâas if the only thing that still manages to make him feel worse than he already does.Â
Is this it, he wonders? Is this what the rest of his life will be like? Spending out his days in his office or in the deepspace tunnel, wondering if those few hours will be his last? There are thoughts that slip in quietly---ones he should repress. Would it be so bad? To get lost in the tunnel, and never having to return to the base again? To finally melt away into nothingness to ease the pain? He grits his teeth, realizing that his nails are digging crescents into the palms of his hands.
No, his men have families. His men have people who still need themâa purpose.
After heâs finished somewhat tidying himself up (though even heavy concealer canât cover his eyebags), he skulks out of the bathroom to head to his office. Itâs usually pitch dark on the floor at this time of night. So when he notices one cubicle that remains illuminated by a lamp, he thinks heâll have to scold whoever it belongs to for wasting the energy bill. He sighs irritably and stalks over, his brows furrowing into a halt when he sees the cubicle isnât empty at all.
You blink up at him. âOh.â
Youâre an unfamiliar face. A new employee, perhaps. How long have you even been here? Especially this late at night? His eyes scan your desk to see the doodles youâve been drawing onto multiple sheets of paper and his scowl deepens. And youâre here for this?
Suddenly, you shoot up to your feet, shoulders tense as you bow your head. âColonel Xia. Iâm youâre new assistantâIâve been assigned here since last week.â
He quirks a brow at your drawings. Your face heats, and you scramble to shove them to the side, clearing your throat.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â
âI was waiting to greet you, sir.â
âItâs 2:37 in the morning.â
âOff the clock,â you respond.Â
âHow long have you been here doingâthat.â
âSince 7.â
âPM?â
âAM. They told me they werenât sure when youâd be getting back,â you scratch the side of your face sheepishly. âBetter safe than sorry.â
He wants to ask if thereâs something wrong with you, but he stops, taken aback. No, heâs sure thereâs something wrong with you. There is, but his eyes widen just the slightest anyway.Â
For the first time in years, someone had been waiting for the colonel.
He quickly finds that youâre good at your job. A bit confused in the first few weeks, sure, but he knows that what he asks of you is a bit much. You somehow manage to get it to a T anyway in the first month, and he wonders if HQ finally made a good hiring decision for the first time in a while. He watches you through the glass of his office, scrambling in your cubicle as your coworkers ask you questions that instill that youâre probably holding the place together. Your first point of action every day is to make his coffee. Afterwards, you make your own. Then, you drop it off and chat with your coworkers for a bit before a crisis arises and youâre sprinting to whatever disaster you have to solve. And when you knock on his door, you keep your eyes down, as if to avoid him as you drop off his paperwork.
He knows he makes your life hard. But you deal with it anyway.
Itâs amusing, really. Youâre amusing to him. But anything remotely lively is amusing in this dreary building.
âAre you leaving, sir?â you ask him one night, when only the two of you are left. He fixes his coat onto himself, finally released from that suffocating hat that heâs has to wear to remain in uniform. You follow him to the door, pacing right behind him as you always do.
Caleb usually doesnât like anyone behind him. Not when thereâs so many people who would seize the opportunity to stab a knife into his back. But for some reason, when you do it, he doesnât mind. Maybe because he knows you couldnât damage him at all. Maybe because he knows you wouldnât.
âI am.â
Your ears perk. âYou must have plans.â
â...Do I have something else on my calendar?â
âWell no, sir, itâs justâŚâ you pause for a moment, glancing at him apprehensively. â...Well, itâs your birthday, so I just assumed.â
Had time already gone by that quickly?
Not that he cared about his birthday. It just meant another year without anyone to return home to.
âI left you something in your office,â you nod. âI hope itâs to your liking.â
His eyes stare right into yours. A million thoughts run through his head. Maybe itâs nothing. Maybe itâs a bomb. Maybe itâs more paperwork. Maybe itâs a resignation letter. From all the regular things to the worst things imaginable, it runs through him all at once, and then it stops, as he just steps out the door. âAlright.â
Though he shouldâve gone home to wait until the next morning to check what it is, he returns a few hours later, when youâve left. Itâs a bit pathetic, really, but he couldnât sleep. Not necessarily because of what you said, but because his body is more accustomed to falling asleep in his office than his own âhouseâ.Â
Definitely not because of the small cactus succulent you left on his desk, with a post-it in your handwriting. It contrasts heavily with the monochrome of the rest of the room, bright with life. The thorns feel sharp against his fingertip as he presses against it, as if to see how much he can push before it breaks skin.
âHappy birthdayâ
As youâre dropping off papers a few weeks later, you point out that it looks like it can use water. He doesnât look up from his work, clicking his tongue. âItâs a cactus. It can survive desertsâIâm sure itâs fine.â
But you stand there, staring at him with a frown, which for some reason gives him an unsettling feeling in his stomach. He swallows, and then sighs with annoyance. âKnock yourself out.â
You beam. So you can smile at him.
After that, heâs learned to read your knocks. Three knocks means paperwork, or something regarding his work. Two knocks means thereâs someone whoâd like to see him. Four knocks means youâre here to water the damn cactus. It happens once every few weeks, but his ears pick up on it easily. He pretends that heâs not watching your every move as you water, observing how you smile at how well itâs doing.
âDonât you have better things to do? It doesnât need that much care, does it?â
You simply shrug. "Just because it doesnât need so much, doesnât mean it doesnât need it at all.â
He doesnât say much to that.
But when you leave, he strangely finds his eyes drifting to the cactus. Itâs a resilient thing, he thinks. He presses his fingertip against a spike, and it draws blood this time, trickling down his finger gently in a brilliant red. An ugly, resilient thing. From the corner of his vision, he sees a bud. Itâs smallâbarely thereâbut he sees it. He wonders if itâll bloom. If his office even receives enough light for it to bloom.
Could a flower bloom from such an ugly, hurting lifeform?
He begins watering the cactus himself, and heâs sure you notice, because you begin to bring in less water each time.
âIâll keep your cactus well fed, sir,â you say the day he leaves for a few months excursion. The longest heâs been on. The most dangerous, too. Itâs almost as if the higher-ups want to kill him. While his men weep and say goodbye to their families, you gaze up at him with a stack of folders clutched in your arms. Despite how defenseless you look to him in comparison to the military-trained men he works with every day, you seem unmovable. Like a tree standing in the middle of a meadow. Full of life. Youâve always seemed strong. Perhaps thatâs why heâs always found you amusing.
Youâre more deserving of this uniform than he is, but he hopes you never have to wear it. Someone like you should never have their life snuffed out like that.
Caleb places his hat onto your head, and for a moment, you blink. He presses it down to fit your head, though it remains slightly large anyway, and then drops his hand. âHave it cleaned by the time I come back.â
He doesnât think you need to know that he had it cleaned just a few days ago.
Days of the excursion blur into one another, stitched together by gunfire and the low hum of the shipâs engines against the nothingness of the deepspace tunnel. Sleep comes in fractured pieces. Food tastes like nothing. The men still talk about home, though quieter now.Â
Thereâs a moment where he stands alone at the observation deck. The glass is scratched, the stars beyond it warped and smeared like paint dragged across a canvas. Itâs ugly out here. Empty yet consuming, like the universe itself is trying to swallow him whole.
He presses his hand against the glass.
Would it really be so bad? If he just⌠didnât go back.
If he drifted a little too far. Took one wrong turn in the deepspace tunnel to let the ship go silent. Let himself go with it. No empty apartments. No ticking clocks. No unfurnished rooms. No reminders of a life that he no longer has access to. It almost feels mercifulâlike the tunnel is offering him a way out.
Thereâs no one there to mourn him anyway.
No family. No home. Just nothingness, like the rest of the tunnel. As if he belongs.
But then, his thoughts are interrupted. Not by anything else, but by a face.
Itâs not even intentional. It comes uninvited, like a part of himself is trying to remind himself that heâs still human, even with the damn chip in his brain. Your face, bright and out of place in the sterile emptiness of his mind. The way you look up at him, eyes too eager for a place like that base. The way you huff proudly to yourself when you make his coffee. The way you nod vigorously as if to hype yourself up before you knock on his door. The way you tell off your coworkers while also remaining welcoming. The way you care for that stupid cactus. The way you frown at him like heâs something worth worrying about.
The way you wait for him at the docks, first to greet him every time he returns without fail.
When did you come to mean so much to him?
His jaw tightens.Â
He needs to see the cactus bloom.
And so, with the determination he hasnât felt in years, he arrives back at the base in one piece, where youâre waiting for him as you always have.
Caleb never tells you what you did for him that day, even when you were lightyears away. Even once he manages to get it through your thick skull that he harbors real, raw feelings for you, he doesnât tell you how much that cactus has done for him.Â
His life is brighter now, with you in it. His apartment, which once lay bare, as if nobody occupied the space now seems warmer. Your coat is tossed onto the couch, the sheets are crumpled, and thereâs more than enough food in the fridge. Thereâs two toothbrushes in the bathroom, and potted plants are littered throughout the entire apartment. Thereâs magnets on the fridgeâpictures of him returning from each excursionâand the two of you growing closer and closer with each photo. The most recent one has you flush to his side, your hands intertwined in his. So much has changed that it doesnât even look like the same apartment anymore.
It feels like home.
In the morning, before you wake up, he gazes at you through lidded eyes, the soft sunlight peeking through the curtains and hitting his back to avoid reaching your face. He grins proudly at the dark marks littering your neck down to your chest, which surely adorn his own torso. Thereâs a sense of relief he gets from moments like theseâbeing able to awake early out of his own will rather than being forced by the nightmares plaguing his mind. He cups the side of your face and rubs your cheek with his thumb as you stir, yawning softly. So pretty.
âMorning, colonel,â you squint.
"Caleb," he corrects.
"Boss."
"I can take a lot of your teasing, but that's crossing a line."
You smile, the way he loves. "Then what should I call you?"
Caleb looks to the side, pretending to be in thought. "'Sir?"
"I'm going to kill you."
âYou seemed to like it last night,â he grins, guiding your face to kiss him before you can complain about his joke. Despite your pleas of morning breath, you melt into him. Your lips feel soft against his, your body warm. He wants to hold you forever. Treasure you forever. Stay here forever.
His cactus sits beside his bedside tableâand the flower has bloomed.
colonel caleb and assistant!nonMC!reader, who he's desperately in love with
warnings. fluff, tending to wounds trope, boss x employee dynamic but caleb is whipped, caleb getting rejected, reader in denial and oblivious
preview. âIâve always been like this,â he sighs, and then you feel him drop his head onto your shoulder. It makes you jolt, your breath hitching as you register what heâs doing. âYou just donât care enough to notice.â
wc. 3.5k
part 2 part 3
Although heâs infamous for being the most ruthless officer at his rank, Colonel Xia is actually a complete mess.
You canât blame anyone for the rumorsâheâs rather intimidating in nature. Tall stature. Narrow eyes. Broad shoulders and a uniform without a seam out of place. He rarely smiles. Voice unalarming at first, but far more unforgiving than most.Â
Youâre like a fly on the wall, you suppose. Youâve been working as his assistant for years now, even before heâd been promoted to colonel. You have his coffee ready every morning, his meetings organized on your calendar, alarms on your phone for any big events he has. Your colleagues canât fathom how youâre able to tolerate working for such a heartless man, but you donât see it that way. Yes, you need to bite your tongue around him. Yes, you need to straighten your back just a tad bit more. Yes, and so much more.Â
But, youâve learned that heâs just as human as you. And he thinks thereâs nobody else in this world that gets him the way you do.
The first year you worked for him, you were constantly afraid of him. Well more so getting fired, than him. Heâd order you to bring him coffee and youâd fear heâd fire you for getting his order wrong, heâd order you to print meeting notes and youâd fear heâd scream at you for failing to print them double-sided. Fortunately, he did neither of those things, but he would shoot you a glare or a jerk of a brow that would send you into a spiral. He didnât seem to enjoy conversation, so youâd just scurry away, clutching your heart in your hands.
As time went on, you learned a lot about him. Itâs inevitable when youâre essentially attached to his hip like a mute accessory, where itâs hard to do anything but focus on what he does.
He likes his coffee sweet. Two sugars and milk. Surprising, since he comes off as a black coffee connoisseur, but also kind of cute? The big scary colonel drinking a latte? He showers in the morning and at night. Cold in the morning, hot at night. He does his own laundry. You eventually figured out that heâs very particular with how he wants his laundry to smell and how he likes it foldedâtalk about being a control freak. He hates his bosses. Whenever he receives orders from them, itâs the only time you see him genuinely losing his coolâgrumbling under his breath and angrily flipping through the paperwork on his desk. You try to avoid his office during these episodes.Â
Over the years, his routine becomes your own. His coffee is ready for him when he sits at his desk, his calendar organized perfectly, and even his laundry is folded the way he wants it to be. The last took some trial and error, but youâre proud of mastering the art.
Still, words between the two of you are scarce. You only tend to see him when heâs working (and so are you), and itâs made wordless communication between the two of you easier. When you stand in front of his desk, he takes it as a signal to clear it for you to place down a new stack of paperwork. When you knock on his door and remain under the doorframe, he sighs, realizing his bosses have called for him. When you place down a fresh cup of coffee at his desk, he takes it as a sign to have lunch.
Itâs seamless coordination, to put it short.
Thereâs a particularly stressful week for him one month. You watch him slave away at his work, the bags beneath his eyes growing heavier and his hair becoming more disheveled. He hasnât left the office in two daysâyou counted. Heâs going to snap, you think. No matter how talented he isâand you know he is, given heâs become a colonel at his young ageâhe canât overcome human biology.
âShit!â you hear from his office. You peek inside to see that heâs spilled coffee on his lap. He pats aggressively at the stain, hissing under his breath when you place a new cup in front of him. His eyes flicker up to you.
âYou have a meeting in an hour,â you say.
He frowns. âIâll have to change.â
âAnd shower,â you scrunch up your nose. âAnd shave, preferably.â
He blinks, and then his lips purse in a weird shape. Wait. Surely not. You think youâre going crazy. Is he trying not to laugh? The colonel who's always glowering menacingly?
The lack of sleep must really be getting to him.
In the end, you somehow end up in the single-stall bathroom. Youâre shaving the sides of his face as he fixes his freshly washed hair, staring at himself in the mirror. Itâs to save time, you remind yourself as you wonder how many minutes he has left till his meeting. He crinkles his brows and then glances at you through the corner of his eyes. You pretend not to notice.Â
âAre you usually so comfortable in front of shirtless men?â
âNo, but youâre not a man,â you snort. âYouâre my boss.â
âIâm your male boss.â
Why are you so comfortable with him, you wonder? Well, youâve known him for a few yearsâyou know his everyday routine, his likes, his dislikes, his habitsâthat you might dare to even say you know him well. Not him, but your boss. You chew on the inside of your cheek, and then shrug.
His skin is soft against your fingertips, you think.
âThanks,â he says. âFor all you do. I donât say it enough, but youâre one of the few people I trust in this place.â
âItâs my job, sir.â
He chuckles, and it catches you off guard. You can count on one hand how many times youâve heard him laugh these past few years. And for some reason, you canât look him in the eye, choosing to narrow in on the shaving cream youâre pushing off with his razor. He doesnât say anything else either, and the two of you exist in the comfortable silence,Â
This is where it begins. The blurring between coworkers and friends, and maybe something more.
The two of you begin to exchange more conversation. When you drop off his coffee, he makes small talk. When you drop off his laundry, he praises you. When you bring him his paperwork, he complains to you about his bosses instead of shooing you away. You gradually spend more time in his office instead of your cubicle. At some point, he even treats you to dinner. Company dinner, but still.
You quickly realize the colonel is a mess. His usually composed and serious demeanor is a facadeâor maybe he just has a switch? He talks a lot. He specifically likes vanilla lattes, you find. He despises seeing others with wrinkles in his uniform. And he calls home once a week to his sister and grandmother, in which you happen to eavesdrop once or twice and find that he can be a complete sap when he wants to be.
Of course, his mask is pulled back on the instant another person is in the room. Your coworkers ask how you managed to get so close to the terrifying Colonel Xia (though you donât even know if youâre that close), but you have to bite your tongue before you spread to the world that the colonel is actually a family-obsessed crashout who likes vanilla lattes and cooking. Maybe youâve gotten too close to him, you wonder, but too late to do anything about it now.
Especially when he hobbles into your cubicle one day, blood seeping from his arm despite his desperate clutch onto it. Itâs late. Two in the morning at the earliest. Youâre not sure why you decided to stay late today despite not having the work to warrant it. But when you noticed his office door remaining closed, lights shut off too early into the night, something felt off. So incredibly off.Â
You suppose you stayed for him. Just in case he needed something else.
âWhat happened to you?â youâre onto your feet in an instant, shoving your chair back as your hands hover over his wound. Half of his outer uniform is shredded off, leaving a trail of bloody marks and what you hope isnât too deep of a cut. His face is pale, breathing shallow. Beads of sweat form at his temples as he looks straight at you, hunched over to your line of sight in pain. You donât wait for his response and quickly shuffle him towards his office, letting him use you as a crutch.
You fumble around his room until you come across a first aid kit. It looks incredibly outdated, but itâll do the job. âTake off your shirt.â
He does without complaint. It seems like you see him shirtless more often than an assistant ought to be.
As you tend to him, you begin to ask questions. And youâre not sure if itâs because of the exhaustion, but he answers them truthfullyâthough you suppose heâs rarely lied to you in the first place. Itâd been an assassination attempt. Another one. The third one this year. You honestly donât know how he bears to deal with the stress of his job, and youâre not sure why he does either, but youâre sure something is tying him down. Your fingers work diligently to tend to him, and youâre suddenly incredibly grateful to the first aid class you were required to take when you first took the job.
âYou should transfer bases,â you mutter.
âWhy would I do that?â
You raise your brows in disbelief, and he laughsâor at least, tries to. Another tally in your head. Now you need more than two hands to count the times heâs laughed in front of you. âIâm serious, sir.â
âAnd what would that achieve?â
âYou wonât have as many knives at your back, for starters.â
âThey could never kill me with those puny attacks.â
âBut they can definitely hurt you...â you pause. â...sir.â
âIâm ranked highly for my age. Iâm not leaving.â
âYouâd climb back up in no time even if you started,â you snap, and he looks away. âAm I wrong?â
Nope.
It goes quiet for a moment. His shoulders fall, and he rocks his head backward, staring at the ceiling. âI wonât have anyone to trust.â
I donât say it enough, but youâre one of the few people I trust in this place.
Your throat feels dry. Your stomach sinks for some reasonâ-or is your heart just hammering? You realize that heâs staring at you now, inches away from you as you hold his arm with bandages. The AC whirrs softly, but the only other thing you can hear is his breathing and your own.
âYouâll get another assistant.â
âNobody else is as good as you,â he responds immediately.
Your eyes narrow, and you turn away, dropping his arm. âYou mustâve not had many assistants.â
âI donât need to.â
He sounds too serious. Too genuine. The air feels suffocating. You rise from the armchair and pace towards his desk with the first aid kit in hand, chewing on the insides of your cheek. Whatever he meansâwhatever heâs implyingâitâs dangerous. Heâs your boss. Your boss, who kills for a living on missions that could kill him. Your boss, who spends his nights passed out at his desk. Your boss, who most of your coworkers call an asshole.Â
His hands perch on either side of you onto his desk. Heâs close. Close enough for you to feel his breath on the shell of your ear, and it sends shivers down your spine. Your fists clench as you will yourself to calm down, but to no avail. What the hell is even happening?
You whip your head to him. âSir, Iââ
âCaleb.â
âWhat?â
âCall me Caleb when weâre alone,â he mumbles. âPlease.â
Your eyes go wide. âThatâs not appropriate.â
âI donât want to be appropriate.â
You nearly choke. Heâs delirious. Perhaps from blood loss, surely. âYouâreâyouâre not acting yourself.â
âIâve always been like this,â he sighs, and then you feel him drop his head onto your shoulder. It makes you jolt, your breath hitching as you register what heâs doing. âYou just donât care enough to notice.â
âWhat are youââ
âHow much more obvious do I have to make myself?â he whispers against your neck. âDo you like humiliating me?âÂ
Either pigs are flying or hell mustâve froze over. You open your mouth to respond, unsure of what youâll say until you feel him slump over your shoulder. You blink. Did he just?
You nudge his limp body.
He did. He did just pass out. You might kill him before anyone else does.
Colonel Xia, as youâve known for some time now, is a mess.
But only to you.
He doesnât make you nervous anymore. If anything, heâs annoying. Alarmingly so. Youâve become a kind of emotional support pet and assistant rolled into one, to the point that he deems it acceptable to message (spam) you at twelve in the morning. You roll your eyes when you see your screen light up in the darkness of your room, knowing thereâs only one person whoâd message you at this time.
[vanilla boss (DNI)]: where are the files i asked you for this morning? I canât find them
[vanilla boss (DNI)]: hello?
[vanilla boss (DNI)]: hellooooooo
[vanilla boss (DNI)]: also do you have time tmr night :) we should go out
[vanilla boss (DNI)]: please (unsent)
[vanilla boss (DNI)]: oh the files
[vanilla boss (DNI)]: xie is on my ass about it
[vanilla boss (DNI)]: fucking asshole, im gonna kill him :3
[vanilla boss (DNI)]: hello??? Where is my pretty assistant that nobody can replace
[vanilla boss (DNI)]: that wasnât sarcasm btw
When you tap away your answer, pressing send and tossing your phone across your bed, the response is immediate.
[vanilla boss (DNI)]: thanks hot stuff ><
[vanilla boss (DNI)]: the office misses you already
The office that only he occupies at this hour?
Youâre not paid enough for this. You ignore the subtle burning in your cheeks.
His feelings for you become an unspoken truth between the two of you for the next few months. Oddly enough, he doesnât seem embarrassed about it at all. Despite most of his attempts to egg you on being rejected, he doesnât let most of it faze him. You remind him that heâd look bad to others if he started dating his assistant, but the thought doesnât seem to even cross his mind, even if you tack on a dozen other reasons why the two of you shouldnât mingle in anything romantic. Heâs never really convinced, much to your dismay.
Which is unfortunate, especially when you realize how much this is affecting you.
When his eyes seem to always drift in your direction, even when heâs in a meeting, you canât help but feel your heart race. When his name pops up onto your phone, you canât help but check what he said immediately. You stay later into the night to bring him an extra cup of coffee.
But this is what any assistant would do, right?
âWhatâs that?â you ask a coworker as she paces towards the colonelâs office with a stack of papers. You eye it suspiciously, especially considering the giddy look she has on her face.Â
âThe colonel asked for these. He asked me, specifically,â she smiles, cheeks pink. âYâknow, up close, he isnât so scary. Heâs kind of nice, and also really cuteâŚhave you noticed that?â
Of fucking course youâve noticed it. Youâve worked with the man for the past few years! Even when everyone else said he was terrifying. Even when everyone else avoided him! Before you know it, your fists are balled at your sides, and you donât even know why. All you know is that you want to yell at him right now. Whatâs the point of having an assistant if youâre just going to use other girls? Is he taunting you? Does he have no use for you anymore? Is your work not good enoughâeven after you responded to him in the middle of the night to his stupid questions with his stupid cute emojis? Your annoyance burns, and you suddenly find yourself marching to his door after having snatched the stack of papers from the woman. She remains oblivious and completely confused as you leave her behind.
You donât bother knocking as you slam the door open.
He looks up from his desk, eyes widening. Upon realizing itâs you, his lips etch into a lopsided grin. âOh, hey, whatââ
You stroll straight to him, dumping the entire stack just inches from his face. It lands onto the desk with a loud slam, and it surprises him as he jerks back. His gaze flickers back up to you, and he blinks. âWhy are you bringing me this?â
âItâs what you requested, sir,â you snap, and his smile is gone. âFrom someone else, for some strange reason. But as your assistant, I felt it was appropriate for me to bring it, no?â
What the hell were you even saying? The words were tumbling out, fired by anger but uncontrollable. You were definitely going to die of embarrassment later on, but you donât care in the moment. For someone who claims to like you so much, why is he asking other girls to get his things? What are you, some backup plan? As if you donât bring him his coffee every day? His paperwork? His laundryâ
He blinks. âIt was a lot to carry, and I didnât want to make youââ
âYes, and letâs ask some bumbling woman who doesnât even know how to make these double-sided. Thatâll get the job done instead of asking the woman whoâs been doing this for years,â you hiss. The more you speak, the more unreasonable it sounds. You know itâs ridiculous, butâŚ
Gears turn in his head. And when it clicks, his eyes soften. His adamâs apple bobs as he slowly stands from his desk, seemingly beginning to understand your frustration. Heâs always been quick to noticing how you feel, even before you could fully process itâand you donât know if you hate or love it.Â
âAre you jealous?â
You balk, appalled at the thought. âNo! Of course not!â
âThen, why are you angry?â
âBecauseââ you sputter for an answer. â--I have a job, andâI want to do my job!â
He tilts his head. âIs that really it?â
âYes!â
âYouâre angry, because I didnât let you bring me paperwork,â he confirms. "And I asked someone else to do it."
âYes!â
His lips break out into a grin. âSounds like jealousy to me.â
Your jaw slacks. Head spinning, you canât ignore how your heart is going at an unreasonable speed, face heating in embarrassment as you entertain the thought. You canât help but avoid his gaze, brows furrowing in an attempt appear more intimidating, but it does little for this purpose. So instead, you glare knives at him. His brown tousled hair. His purple eyes. His pink lips. The straight edge of his nose. His lashes that put most peoples' to shame. His grin. His laugh. That stupid fucking laugh that you count in tallies in your head, almost as if youâre always waiting for the next one. Looking forward to them. Yearning for them. His stupidly cute coffee order and his stupidly cute texts and his stupidly good-looking uniform and his stupidâ
Fuck.
God, you want to kiss him.
âHey,â he waves a hand in front of you, brow raising. âSorry, Iâll stop teasing. I wonât do it next time soââ
Before he can finish his sentence, you yank him by the collar of his shirt and smash his lips against yours. The kiss is a mess. When he recognizes whatâs happening after the immediate shock, heâs kissing back desperately, hands flying to either sides of your face to pull you closer. Itâs awkward, given that youâre kissing over the desk, but neither of you could care any less. Thereâs a few grunts that escape your lips until you gently punch at his chest, pointing at your nose when his eyes flutter open. He pulls away to let you breathe, and he has the widest smile plastered on his mouth. You donât know if you want to slap it off or kiss him again.
Roommate Caleb who caters to you like a lovesick idiot who thinks heâs being subtle. He cooks, cleans, does the laundry, waters the plants. He even listens to you moan about unreliable coworkers who disappear for weeks at a time, leaving you to clean up their messes. He loves every minute of it, lapping up each second of attention that you're willing to grant him.
Roommate Caleb who doesn't know how to get out of the friendzone, he just knows that he needs to escape it. Being so close to you all the time, engulfed by your scent no matter where he is, because of course it lingers on his clothes too, has him slowly drowning in his invisible loneliness. You're right there, yet he can't hold you close to soothe that ache deep inside his soul.
Roommate Caleb who resorts to playing dirty. He's seen the way you glance at him when he emerges from the bathroom after a shower. Shirtless and bare, his skin glistening from the water. Of course he notices when your gaze drops to trace the hard ridges of his abs, and then the veins on his lower abdomen as they disappear beneath the towel around his hips. At least it was easy to deduce that you found him physically attractive. So, that's why he's decided to cook dinner wearing nothing but his black underwear and your cute, frilly apron. If you weren't swayed by his near nakedness he could at least play it off as a joke with that apron. You can't help but laugh at the sight that meets you when you come home, but it's not the apron that has you giggling so hard your cheeks flush a bright red.
"Oh, you think I'm cute now? Just wait until I'm actually tryin' to impress you."
Roommate Caleb who's almost certain he's going through some sort of episode when he steps closer to your giggling form. He towers over you and you meet his suddenly hesitant gaze with wide eyes â you're not laughing anymore, and he's not joking. A trembling hand reaches up to caress your cheek before a calloused thumb brushes against your bottom lip. He gulps as his eyes flick from your lips to literally anywhere else. You hope heâll break, that just this once heâd dare to be selfish and take something for himself. But, he doesnât â so you give it to him instead.
Roommate Caleb who barely holds it together at the sight of you naked on top of him. He doesnât know where to look; the place where your bodies join and he disappears inside you? Or your beautiful face contorting in pleasure? His hands grip at your supple thighs, tracing up to your hips as you move up and down his hard length. He knows he wonât last long â reduced to something feeble and weak, completely under your control. And he canât deny that he loves every second of it.
"Youâre mine⌠Right? Fuck, please say youâre mine!"
AN: Gasp! Not the Xavier slander in the first paragraph! 𫣠Thanks for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! If anyone is interested in being added to the taglist, let me know!
caleb. sweet, stupidly loyal caleb whoâs spent years burying every want, every ache, every late night thought of you under layers of friendly, familiar teasing. heâs waited so long itâs carved into him. and now youâre here, under him, skin to skin in the soft dark of his apartment (the one he never really decorated because it never felt like home without you), and itâs too much.
heâs trembling before he even gets inside you.
hands braced on either side of your head, that broad frame hovering like heâs scared heâll crush you if he lets his full weight down. his breath is ragged, uneven, nothing like the calm, cocky colonel everyone else sees. you can feel the rapid thud of his heart against your chest, syncing with yours in this frantic, mismatched rhythm.
âi-â his voice cracks on the single syllable. he swallows hard, adamâs apple bobbing. tries again. âiâve wanted this⌠for so long. too long. i donât⌠i donât know if i can-â
you cup his face, thumbs brushing the sharp line of his jaw. he leans into it like heâs starving. those violet eyes, usually so bright, so teasing, are glassy now, lashes clumped at the edges.
âcaleb,â you whisper. âitâs okay. weâre okay.
he shakes his head once, small, almost frantic. âno, itâs not. because if i move- if i really let myself have you- i might never stop. i might-â a choked sound escapes him, half laugh, half sob. âgod, pipsqueak, iâm scared. iâm so fucking scared iâll ruin this. that youâll see how much iâve⌠how badly iâve needed you, and youâll-â
the words die when you shift, guiding him closer, letting him feel how ready you are. he hisses through his teeth, hips jerking involuntarily. and then- there it is. the first tear slips free, tracing a slow, hot path down his cheek before dripping onto your collarbone.
he freezes. mortified. âshit- sorry, i-â
but you donât let him pull away. you wrap your legs around him tighter, arms looping his neck, pulling him down until his forehead rests against yours.
âdonât apologise,â you murmur. âlet me see you. all of you.â
another tear follows. then another. heâs crying quietly now, shoulders shaking, breath hitching in these soft, broken little gasps. overwhelmed doesnât cover it. itâs years of restraint shattering in real time. happiness so big it hurts. nerves twisting his stomach into knots. fear that this is a dream, that heâll wake up alone again in some cold, sterile lab with nothing but memories.
âi love you,â he chokes out against your mouth. the words tumble like theyâve been waiting forever to be free. âiâve loved you since we were kids. since you cried when i left for college. since⌠since i thought iâd lost you forever.â
he presses in slow, agonisingly slow, like heâs memorizing every inch, every flutter. when heâs fully seated, buried deep, he stills again. just breathing you in. tears falling freely now, wetting your cheeks, your lips.
âyou feelâŚâ his voice is wrecked, reverent. âyou feel like home.â
you kiss him through it, salty and messy and perfect. he starts to move then, tentative at first, like heâs afraid heâll break something precious. but every roll of his hips pulls another soft sob from him, another whispered âi love youâ like a prayer.
heâs a mess. beautiful, undone and most importantly yours.
and when the wave finally crashes, when he buries his face in your neck, shuddering, crying your name like itâs the only word he remembers, you hold him through it. fingers in his hair. legs locked around him. letting him fall apart in the safest place heâs ever known.
after, he doesnât let go. just curls around you, still sniffling a little, pressing shaky kisses to your shoulder.
âsorry i cried like a baby,â he mumbles, voice thick.
you smile into his hair. âdonât be. i liked it. means it mattered.â
he exhales, long and shaky. âit mattered more than anything.â
yeah⌠caleb finally getting to have you. overwhelmed. happy. nervous. scared.
CONTENT WARNINGS: death, suicide ideation (most prominent in xavier's), read rafayel's 'when light falls' card so his part makes sense, fem reader in rafayelâs, they're super mean to other people heređ, angst, angst & a whooooole lotta angst
NOTE: my debut post to the lads community! i just wanna say i am SO sorry for such a brutal first smau oh my goodnessđ i would also like to apologize if they're a little ooc, i just started playing the game and im still trying to get a feel for the characters đľâđŤ i hope you all enjoy this regardless! :')
masterlist
@kamieow 2025. reblogs are greatly appreciated! <3
The concept of the LaDs men accidentally hurting you with their Evol... hear me out please
TW: I want to emphasize the "accidentally" part. None of these scenarios are meant to be the LaDs men intentionally harming you. Also blame the angst on @zaynezone for her Sylus angst that was meant to be payback for @wetforsylus
Xavier, trying to be helpful, uses his evol to give you more light while you try and work. But, your brain is already on overload and one glance at the light emitting from his hand and you feel the uncomfortable and unwelcome throb of a migraine forming along your temple and behind your eye. The horror on his face when he realizes what he did and immediately jumping to grab your medication and rush you to a dark room for comfort. Muttering repeated apologizes as he just flutters around you, gathering things to ease the pain like a cold compress to press over your eye.
Rafayel, getting a little too daring with his attempts to impress you. Using his evol to toast your marshmallow a little faster, the pretty pinkish-red flames dazzling enough that you barely process it grazing your skin until you instinctively drop the stick you had been holding to shake your hand rapidly. All color would drain from his face, hand grabbing your wrist and dragging it closer to his face. Voice slightly shaken as he asks you if you're okay and if you need first aid, the words tumbling out over each other. It'll end up leaving a scar on the back of your hand, something you truly don't mind but he can't help but feel several emotions when he sees.
Zayne, upset and stressed out about you nearly getting yourself killed on a mission. It had been a close call, closer than others, and it was enough to visibly shake the both of you. You had gotten a bit fed up with his constant coddling after that, finally getting into it with him one night after he declines signing off on you retiring from desk duty and returning to the field. It wasn't until ice nipped at your skin and visibly made you flinch that Zayne realized he had lost control of his emotions. You watch him shut down and close you out, more horrified by his immediate withdrawal than the pain flooding every nerve.
Sylus, panicking during an ambush when you're nearly kidnapped. The rush of movement, the ringing of gunfire as bullets and his evol tear through bone and flesh. You can handle yourself, he knows he doesn't need to be on top of you but he always keeps an eye. It happens so quick he nearly loses his cool. Your yell, the random assailant touching you, dragging you back towards one of the cars they had arrived in. His evol lashes out, ripping the man clean from your body and yanking you towards him in one swift movement. The man is gone before you can blink, turning to Sylus to utter thanks only for him to stare at you with a pained, nearly unreadable expression. Crimson lines of blood well on your skin, his evol had cut you, deep.
Caleb, getting agitated during a disagreement, the bickering had been going on for nearly an hour now. A real disagreement, one that one likely end in you storming away and slamming your door. He sees it coming, sees you huff and puff and suddenly you're not listening to anything else he's saying. You're turning on your heels and making the move to escape. His evol acts before his mind does, weighing you down so quickly that your legs buckle and you hit the floor with a harsh thwack. You can't even utter anything, looking up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. He could vomit at the sight, his evol releasing immediately as he jumps to check you for injuries.
for my lovely @valleyanimalz. i hope this is good for u oomfie <3 this might be one of my favorite things i've ever written im not even gonna lie to you LMAO
pope isn't a bad dog. he doesn't know why he bites. but he knows he does. and because of that, you need to stay away from him
masterlist
warnings: smut (18+), hard fuckin with a side of petplay hell yea, pope being himself
w.c.: 2.4k
You werenât even supposed to be at the Cody house, really. Smurf was throwing a party that night and asked you to drop off some beers. When you rounded the corner of the yard, you saw him. Pope Cody. Straddling a man with his fist raised and blood dripping from his fingers. Smurf sat in a chair, lazily watching the scene unfold. You stumbled to a halt. You knew who Pope was. Youâd been working with the Codys for a long time, running little errands they didnât feel like doing. You had gotten especially close to Pope, bringing him food on surveillance missions and staying to talk with him. The two of you had a friendship, and by the way he looked at you, you assumed there was a spark of something more. Smurf had noticed, too, and she wanted you to see first hand what Pope was capable of. She thought it would scare you away, leave her son alone so he could remain indebted to her.Â
When you let out a little gasp, Pope instantly looked up, pausing the beating and locking eyes with you. Emotion washed over his features, but only for a moment. It was long enough. He looked scared, guilty, hurt. You didnât say anything. Your expression was enough: wide-eyed and uneasy. Your gaze flicked from him, to his fist, to the pulpy face of the man he was holding up by his shirt. Pope immediately let go of the man and he fell to the ground with a grunt. He pushed himself up and stalked into the house, shaking out his hand. You followed after him, setting the case of beer down next to Smurf, who was trying and failing to hide her smirk.Â
You found Pope in his bedroom, leaning against his dresser with a wide stance. His face was drawn tight and his eyes were wattery, like he was trying not to cry. He pressed his lips together and they moved with words he was saying in his mind.Â
âYou shouldnât be here.â He told you. His voice was wet. âYouâŚyou shouldnât have seen me like that.â A tear slipped from his eye and he sharply turned his head. You entered the room calmly.
âItâs okay.â You assured him. You placed your fingers on his forearm and he just lowered his head and clenched his fist tighter. He was shaking. âYou didnâtâŚyou didnât scare me. I know what you do.â He eyes flicked to yours, a small simmer of rage behind them.
âWhat I do?â He repeated. âWhat I do. I scare people. I hurt people. You should be terrified of me.âÂ
âMaybe.â You said and cast your eyes down. His face fell a little. âBut Iâm not.â When you looked back up at him, your eyes were blazing.
You crashed your lips onto his, fisting his shirt to pull him even closer to you. At first, Pope reciprocated, clashing his tongue against yours and letting out a little moan into your mouth. But a few moments later, he roughly pushed you away. Not harsh enough to hurt you, just to get you off him. You stumbled back, blinking in surprise.
âPope, what-â
âStop!â He barked, turning sideways so he didnât have to look at you. âJustâŚstop.â His breathing was ragged and his hands came up behind his head, tugging at his own hair. Pope paced around the room like a caged animal. You watched him nervously. Your heart cracked at the rejection, tears prickling at your eyes.
âIâŚI thought thatâŚâ You whispered, afraid that your voice would break if you raised. âI thought you wanted me.â Popeâs eyes snapped to yours, confusion building behind them.
âI do want you.â He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
âThen kiss me.â You took a step towards him but he stepped back.
âNo.âÂ
âWhy not?â You hissed, hands curling into a fist. âWhy wonât you let yourself do this one thing? Fuckâs sake, Pope!â Pope glared at you. He took a deep breath and marched over to you, getting close to you without actually touching.
âBecause I donât deserve it.â He seethed through gritted teeth, looking down at you from over his nose with crazed eyes. âBecause youâre perfect and Iâm some miserable mutt. All I know how to do is steal and kill. I can never get the blood out from under my fingernails, you know that? No matter how hard and how long I scrub them. Itâs always there. And I know that if I get too close to you, one day that blood is going to be yours. I would rather die than live long enough to see myself hurt you. So, yea, I want you. God, I want you more than the oxygen in my lungs. Thatâs why you need to stay the fuck away from me.â Pope pointed a finger in your face. And you donât know why, but you kissed the tip of it. Not in a sexual way, but in a gentle way. The care your lips brushed over his calloused, bloody skin shocked Pope so much that his resolve faltered. He lowered his hands to his sides, squaring off his shoulders and looking down at his feet. He breathed hard through his nose and pressed his eyes together.Â
âPope,â You called softly, and you saw his lip quiver. He was bracing himself, waiting for you to scream horrendous insults his way. Instead, you reached out a hand and brushed it against his chest. He tensed, but didnât move away. âThatâs the most romantic thing Iâve ever heard.â Popeâs eyes snapped open.Â
âWhat?âÂ
âThe fact that you care that much about me. That you would deny yourself happiness, just to keep me safe.â You explained. âAnyone can beat someone up for me. But youâd dedicate your life to me. Only you could reach that level of devotion. And thatâs why youâre the only one worthy of my love.â Pope swallowed uneasily. What were you getting at? âWould you?â
âWould I what?â
âWould you dedicate your life to protecting me?â You saw a flash of pure loyalty cross his face.
âI would rip out a manâs throat with my bare teeth if he touched you.â Pope growled, stepping towards you, walking you towards the wall. His pupils were blown and the muscle under his eye was twitching. âIâd sit at the foot of your bed all night to make sure you sleep soundly.â Another step. âIâd follow you around all day waiting for you to ask me for something.â Another. Your back was fully against the wall, chest touching his. Popeâs lips ghosted over your nose, still making searing eye contact. He lowered his voice. âIâd fuck you so hard youâd never want to leave my bed.â He was trying to be scary. Intimidate you into leaving his life before he allowed himself to get too entangled with you. Before he allowed himself to let down his guard and show you that he wasnât a bad dog. Not really. Heâd just been beaten so many times that baring his teeth was his first instinct. But the dissuasion wasn't working. You swallowed thickly and held his gaze. Your eyes reflected the fire he was feeling. You cupped your hands around his cheeks and Popeâs eyes fluttered shut.Â
âProve it.â You challenged, huffing the words over his lips. Popeâs hands gripped your hip and spun you around before you could truly comprehend what was happening. He pressed your front to the wall and dipped his head to be level with your ear.
âYea?â Pope huffed. âYou getting turned on by how fucked up I am? I kill people.â You let out a moan at his words and Pope laughed cruelly.Â
âYouâd kill someone for me?â You asked and Popeâs grip tightened.
âAnyone.â He growled. âAll you have to do is ask.â
âGood, âcause I got a list.â A hand smacked your ass.
âIâm not kidding.â Pope kneaded the flesh between his fingers. He got to his knees and pulled down your pants. âYou want me to prove it, huh? You want me to show you why you need to be careful about what you say? One taste of you, Iâll be addicted. I wonât be able to stop myself.â You looked at him over your shoulder and widened your legs.
âPlease, Pope.â Who was he to deny you? You were his everything. Even if in the morning you might be horrified by your own actions, sobbing to him saying how much of a mistake it was. Maybe he would allow himself this one moment. Because by the way you were rutting onto his face, Pope considered for a moment that maybe you did mean it.
The moment his mouth was on your heat, he was a goner. The first swipe of his tongue through your folds was sinful and it drew a deep, breathy moan from the bottom of your chest. He lapped at you like a starved man, coating the entirety of his lower jaw and the inside of your thighs with his spit and your arousal. His tongue slipped in and out of your cunt repeatedly, stretching your walls when he added a finger.Â
âTouch yourself,â Pope told you, voice deep and commanding. You slipped a finger down your navel and rubbed tight circles around your clit. It wasnât long before you felt your release creep into your belly. It took you off guard, how fast he got you there, and when he added another finger into your pussy, you exploded, clenching around his fingers and squirting onto his chest. You came with a cry of his name. Not âPopeâ but âAndrew.â You had never called him that before. The sound of his real name from your throat sent painful claws of yearning into his heart. How could he let you go? How could he push you away? When it was so clear how much you loved him. How much you needed him. A new sense of purpose swelled in his chest. He got up off his knees and pulled off his shirt, wiping his face with it before discarding it on the ground. You swayed against the wall of the bedroom. Your brain was foggy from the intensity of your orgasm and you didnât notice Pope had picked you up until you landed on his bed.Â
Pope crawled over you, fondling your breast as he kissed at your neck.
âMâso sorry,â He choked out, taking a shaky inhale. âI love you so much. Please donât leave me.â You swallowed dryly, fingers curling in his red hair and tugging him up to look at you. Those brown eyes, wet and round, made your chest flutter with fondness.
âI could never leave you, Andrew.â You told him, kissing him softly. And you meant it. Seeing a man brutally beat up a stranger would scare anyone away- except you. Your personal guardian. It made your pussy throb. âI love you. Youâre mine.â Your claiming made him whimper, a high-pitched keening. He bucked his hips against your center. âFuck me. Show me what a good boy you are.â Pope quickly shimmied out of his jeans and boxers. You laid on your back patiently, grabbing at his shoulders to steady yourself as he aligned himself with your folds. The head of his cock brushed against you, and he let out a pained noise when he felt your wetness against him. He was shaking. âHey,â you pulled him back into the moment and brushed a curl from his sweat-slicked forehead. âItâs okay.â Popeâs eyes were wide with uncertainty, but he gave a small nod and he pushed into you.
You let out a sharp gasp at the intrusion and Pope immediately stilled. You dug your fingers into his biceps as you took a few deep breaths. He was big. Not specifically long or girthy, but big in general. You gave him a nod and he bottomed out. Breath was punched from your lungs and it took a few moments before you could inhale. Your eyes went wide, locked on his, and you saw his gaze turn from uncertainty to something darker. A shift from Andrew back to Pope. He gave a roll of your hips and you moaned at the sensation. You were so full. âF-fuck.â
âI know,â He cooed, kissing along your jaw and cheeks. âYouâre doing so good. Iâm gonna take such good care of you.â The rhythm of skin slapping filled the bedroom, mixed with your breathy moans and Popeâs growls after every thrust. He pressed your knees to your chest, causing your eyes to roll back at the new sensation. One of your hands dug into the meat of his shoulder and the other wrapped loosely around his neck, pulling him up to kiss you. A small show of dominance over him that he readily indulged in. You gave a light squeeze and he responded with a sharp snap of his hips. He stayed like that, kissing you sloppily with your hand around his throat, until his pace began to falter. Pope humped his hips into you desperately, eagerly finding his release. He slowed only for a moment to whisper against your lips. âWhere?â
âNeed you to cum in me, Pope.â You begged, words uneven because of the feeling of his cock inside you. âPlease.â You thought he was wounded with the sound he made. Low and broken and needy. His fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, holding you impossibly close against him. His head dipped to the crook of your neck. You settled one hand on the back of his head and the other you dragged in a slow line down the freckled plane of his back. He panted against your ear and you felt his teeth nip at your skin. You pressed a kiss to his sweaty temple and that sent him over the edge. He came with an open-mouthed whimper, hips stilling impossibly deep inside of you, coating your cervix with his cum. Pope rested his weight on you and you pressed your heels into his ass to keep him still. You petted his hair soothingly and whispered praises to him. His heart was directly above yours and when you both caught your breath, they were beating in sync.Â
âI love you.â he whispered to you. âI wanna be your guard dog forever. Wanna be your good boy.â
Pope isn't a bad dog. He doesn't know why he bites, but he knows he does. And heâd rip anyone to shreds if you just gave the command.
Summary: You and Andrew have been officially together for a bit and he decides to finally ask you why you never touch him and fears you don't want him that way only to find out there's a bigger reason and it sends him down a spiral he works hard to come back from
Warnings: age gap (Pope is 40ish and reader is mid 20's) mentions of rape and sexual assault, victim blaming
AN: Fic is inspired by the song "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex !! Finally my first Pope/Andrew fic !!! I've had this one in the works for a while and I'm so proud of it. Enjoy and let me know what you think ! Remember to comment and reblog đ¤
Dinner had gone cold twenty minutes ago. The pasta sat untouched on both of your plates while rain tapped softly against your condo windows. The only sound in the kitchen was the quiet clink of your boyfriend, Andrew, turning his fork over and over against the ceramic plate
You watched him carefully from across the table, he got like this sometimes. Quiet first, then distant and then somewhere dangerous inside his own head
âYou donât have to eat it if it sucks,â you said lightly, trying to pull him out of it âI definitely didnât make it al dente like you usually like, Iâm sorryâ
His eyes lifted immediately âItâs good.â
âOkay.â you nodded
He rubbed at the scar on his knuckle unconsciously, a repetitive motion you had learned meant his OCD was flaring. Usually when he was stressed, overstimulated, or trying not to think about something. You knew he wanted to say something so you waited until he did
âDo you even like me ?â
The question hit so suddenly you almost choked on your water, âWhat ?â
His jaw tightened âYou heard me.â
âOf course I like you.â you looked at him âWhat kind of fucking question is that Andrew ? Are you being serious right now ?â
âNo, I mean actually like me.â he laughed once under his breath, humorless âBecause sometimes I canât tell if youâre just⌠comfortable with me.â
You stared at him confused âWhere is this coming from ?â
He pushed his plate away abruptly âFour months.â
âWhat about four months ?â you whispered
âWeâve been together four months and every time I touch you for too long you tense up.â Andrew rasped out âAre you scared of me ? Do I scare you ? If-If I did Iâm sorry, I am. I donât mean toâ
Your chest tightened instantly and you shook your head âNo ! Oh god no, donât say that...thatâs not true at allâ
He stood from the table and paced once through the kitchen âI try not to push you,â he said quickly, words starting to come faster âI know Iâm older than you and I know I come withââ he gestured vaguely at himself ââall this shit. I know Iâm not exactly easy to be with.â
âYou are easy to be with.â you said immediately but he ignored that
âI canât tell if youâre disgusted by me or scared of me or if you justâŚif you just hate meâ Andrew murmured
âI donât !â you said as you stood up from your chair âI donât hate you !â
âThen why wonât you let me ever beâŚnear you ?â he met your eyes
The room went still after that, there was no more anger or raised voices and somehow that made the feeling worse. Underneath the frustration was something bad, something that could easily change everything for the both of you. You could see it happening in real time now, his breathing was too shallow, his hands flexing repeatedly and thoughts moving too fast for him to control
You knew enough about him by now to recognize when his suspected BPD latched onto rejection and once it latched on, it tore him apart like no other
âI didnât meanââ he started suddenly, running a hand through his auburn curls âForget it. I shouldnât have said it like that. It was fucked up, Iâm sorry. Iâm really fucking sorryâ
âYou deserve an answer.â you whispered
âNo, because now youâre gonna feel cornered and then youâll hate me for pushing andââ
âI donât hate you Andrew, please quit saying that.â
His eyes snapped to yours immediately, almost desperate âThen tell me what Iâm doing wrong.â
Your throat tightened painfully, you had spent years avoiding this conversation. Years pretending it sat far enough in the past to not matter but here you were years later trying to build a future with a man who was looking at you like he was already preparing himself to lose you
âI was raped when I was 15â you whispered lowly
Andrew turned his head towards you and you swore you could see his eyes begin to water âWhat ?â he whispered
âMy older brother's friend, he was in college and I was about to enter my freshman year of high schoolâ you looked at him âHe was sleeping over and it was a Friday night, everyone was asleep except he and I. We were in the living room watching a movie and I went to bed and while I was asleep he came into my room andâŚ.and he raped meâ
âWhat ? HeâŚ..Noâ he shook his head, his voice barely existing âNoâŚnoâŚnot youâ
You swallowed hard and blinked to avoid the moisture building up in your eyes âI never really dealt with it properly. I just learned how to avoid things that make me feel trapped or panicked.â you gave a tiny shrug âSometimes physical stuff is harder than I want it to be.â
He stared at you like he couldnât process the words, you waited and waited and then you watched the exact moment it sank in. His face was drained of color but somehow he straightened up his posture and looked in your eyes âWho.â
It wasnât a question, it was a demand. You knew exactly where his mind was going and there was no way youâd ever let him handle anything like that for you, ever âNo.â
âWho did it ?â Andrew rasped out, his voice frighteningly calm now, which was always worse than yelling âJust tell meâŚpleaseâ
You knew stories about him before you dated him, the things heâd done for his family. The extreme violence and the arrests. You remembered your friends and locals referring to him as Pope, a nickname he had told you he despised and only kept because his brothers refused to ever refer to him by his actual name
You knew his family was one to never cross but he had assured you time and time again he was done with that. There was no way youâd ever take him back to that kind of thing. The people who crossed him and his family regretted it, most ended up dead or missing somewhere. You knew the things he personally was capable of
He stepped away from the table entirely now, grabbing his jacket off the counter with shaking hands âTell me his name.â
âHey.â you walked over to his side and held his hands âNo.â
âYou-You said he was in college when you were a freshman, he was-he was an adult ? You were 15 ? Tell me.â Andrews voice shook âRemember, please rememberâ
âI donât want to talk about him.â you moved your hands to caress his cheeks, attempting to ground him
âI do.â he nodded avoiding your eyes as his breathing was getting rougher
You could practically see the compulsive thoughts taking over him, fix it, hurt him, make it right, do something. It was going over and over in his brain and you desperately wanted to bring him back âHeyâŚlook at me, pleaseâ
âIf heâs still aliveââ
âStop.â you whispered âJust stop, pleaseâŚ.forget I even said anything just stopâ
âHe hurt you.â he finally looked at you âHe hurt youâŚ.he violated youâ
âI know.â
âAnd nobody did anything ?â he exclaimed, his voice cracking at the end âNo one did a damn thing ?â
You flinched slightly at the sudden sharpness in his voice and that made him freeze instantly. The anger vanished from his face, replaced immediately with horror âOh my Godâ he dropped his jacket âIâm sorry. Iâm sorry baby, I didnât mean to raise my voice.â
âYou didnât yell.â you shook your head âJustâŚjust surprisedâ
âBut you flinchedâ his face twisted like the sight physically hurt him
Leaning your head on his chest you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, looking up at him âLook at me.â
He couldnât do it, he shook his head, his breathing continuing to speed up âI shouldâve protected you.â
âYou didnât even know me Andrewâ you murmuredÂ
âI shouldâve protected you.â he repeated
âYou were not responsible for what happened to me when I was fifteen.â
âBut somebody shouldâve beenâ, his eyes were glassy now, frantic in a way that made your chest ache âYou think I can sit here knowing somebody touched you like that?â he whispered âYou think I can just eat dinner after hearing that ?â
âYou have to.â you said softlyÂ
âNo.â
âYes.â
He tried pulling away again but you tightened your hold on him, âListen to me carefully,â you said softlyÂ
He finally looked at you with glossy eyes and moved his hands to your face âYou were a kidâŚyou were a little girlâŚwho hurts little girls like that ?â
âYou going after someone isnât going to undo what happened to meâ you sniffledÂ
His jaw clenched hard enough you saw the muscle jump âHe deserves itâŚhe deserves it for hurting you like thatâ
âMaybe he does. But Iâm asking you not toâ he looked tortured by that, actually tortured and it made your heart break
âI donât know how to live with hearing that.â Andrew looked at you âI wanna kill anyone who ever hurt youâ
âYou donât have toâŚdo thatâ you shook your head
âThatâs easy for you to say.â
âNo,â you finally said gently âItâs actually not.â
That finally shut him up and you watched the anger in his face slowly crack apart into something else now, grief. Not for himself but for you. His hands squeezed yours almost painfully âYou were a kid.â he repeated
The way he said it nearly broke your composure but you managed to stay calm and simply noddedÂ
He shut his eyes hard and when he spoke again, his voice sounded wrecked âI canât stand thinking about somebody hurting you.â
âI know.âÂ
âAnd now every time you pull away from me Iâm gonna wonder if I remind you of him.â
âYou donât.â you answered quickly as your voice broke âHow could you think that Andrew ? Of course you donâtâ
âHow do you know ?â
âBecause Iâm not scared of you.â you shook your headÂ
That hit him hard enough that his expression crumpled slightly and you reached up to kiss his cheek âYou know what the difference is ?â
He shook his head once
âYou stop when I need you to stop, you ask before you touch me sometimes, you pay attention and you make me feel safe,â you whispered âEven now.â
He looked devastated hearing that after what you had told him, his thumb rubbed unconsciously over your knuckles again and again and again, repetitive and grounding âI donât know what to do with this feeling,â he admitted quietly âI feel like Iâm gonna crawl out of my skin.â
âYou sit with me.â you murmuredÂ
âThatâs it ?â
âThatâs it.â
His eyes searched yours like he still wasnât convinced, then finally, slowly, he nodded. You guided him toward the couch and for once, he let you take care of him. Later that night, long after the rain stopped, he held you carefully against his chest in bed like he was still trying to understand how the world couldâve ever been cruel enough to hurt you at all
You could always tell when his brain got stuck on something because he became unnervingly focused. Like every thought tunneled into one point until it consumed him completely. He hadnât let go of your hand in almost an hour, his thumb kept moving against your skin in absent repetitive strokes, grounding himself
Finally, quietly, he spoke again âDid you tell anybody ?â
You looked over at him âNo.â
âNot even your parents ?â
You shook your head once âNopeâ
His jaw tightened slightly, but there was no anger in it this time. More disbelief than anything else âYou were fifteen.â
âI know.â
âHow does a fifteen-year-old carry that alone ?â
You gave a small shrug âI just didâ
âThatâs not an answer.â
A tiny breath of laughter escaped you despite yourself âSee ? This is what I mean.â
His brows pulled together immediately âWhat ?â
âYou ask things like an interrogator babeâ
âIâm trying to understand.â he said as softly as he could
âI know.â
And you did know, that was the difference. He wasnât asking for details out of curiosity. He was trying to build a map in his head so he could understand every reaction youâd ever had around him. From every hesitation to every flinch to every moment you froze up and pretended you were fine afterward
He looked down at your joined hands again âDid heâŚâ his voice caught slightly before he forced himself to continue âDid he hurt you physically ?â
You considered the question carefully and finally nodded âYes, he didâ
His breathing changed immediately, still controlled but barely âAnd afterwards ?â he asked quietly âDid you get help ? Like did you go to the hospital ?â
âNo I didnâtâ
His head snapped toward you âNo ?â
âI didnât tell anyone, remember ?â
âThat doesnât make sense.â Andrew shook his head
âIt made sense to fifteen-year-old me.â you shrugged
He stared at you for a long moment like he hated that answer because he couldnât argue with it. He knew what he was going to ask next could get him kicked out of your place but he needed it answered, âDid you think it was your fault ?â
The bluntness of it shouldâve sounded harsh but instead it just sounded sad. You looked down at your lap and nodded âAt the time I didâŚ.I shouldnât have been alone with him. I shouldâve gone to bed when my brother did. I shouldâve locked my bedroom door like I always didâŚIâŚlet it happenâ
His face twisted instantly âThatâs insane to even think that kind of shit. How could you think it was your fault ? Itâs that sick fuckâs fault for hurting a kidâ
âIâm the one who stayed up till 1 am with himâ you whispered
âYou were failed by every adult around you.â he brought up sternly
You reached over and touched his arm gently âIâm okay.â
âNo,â he said immediately âYou survived it. Thatâs different.â he rubbed a hand over his face roughly before asking another question âIs that why you donât like being pinned down ?â
You stiffened slightly in surprise âYou noticed that ?â
âI notice everything about you.â he answered instantlyÂ
The answer came so quick it made your chest ache, of course he would notice that. Andrew noticed everything about you, the good and the bad
He continued before you could respond âThe first time we kissed on the couch and I leaned over you, your breathing changed.â he glanced away briefly âSo I stopped doing it.â
âYou stop touching me in certain ways when I get nervous,â you realized softly
âObviously.â he nodded
âMost people wouldnât notice.â
âWell, I do.â he shifted toward you a little more now, eyes searching your face carefully âDoes it happen all the time ?â he asked âOr only sometimes ?â
âSometimes.â
âWhat does it feel like ?â he whispered
That question took you longer to answer, you tried to think of a way to explain it that would make sense to someone who had never experienced it âItâs likeâŚâ you paused for a bit and let out a deep breath âMy body gets confused. My brain knows Iâm safe but my nervous system doesnât always catch up right away.â
He nodded immediately like that made perfect sense to him âLike panic responses.â
âYeah.â
âOkay.â
You blinked at how quickly he accepted it. There was no confusion or frustration, just acceptance. He sat back slightly, thinking again âHave I ever made you feel unsafe ?â
Your answer came instantly âNo.â
The tension in his shoulders loosened just slightly âYou would tell me if I did though, right ?â
âYes.â
âYou swear ?â Andrew looked at you âRight ?â
âI swear.â you leaned over and kissed him âI swearâ
He held your gaze another second longer, making sure âOkay.â, silence settled again for a moment before he spoke quietly again, âI donât really know how normal people respond to hearing something like this.â
 âI donât think there is a normal response.â you huffed softly
âThere should be.â he murmured
âYouâre doing fine.â you held his hand âYou areâ
âIâm trying very hard not to go find somebody.â Andrew admittedÂ
You smiled faintly âI know.â
âI mean it.â his eyes dropped again âEvery five minutes my brain goes back to wanting a name.â
âI know.â
âBut Iâm not asking again.â
That surprised you enough that your expression softened immediately âYouâre not ?â
âNo.â he swallowed âBecause you asked me not to.â
Something warm and painful grew in your chest. This man, with all his damage, all his violence, all the terrible things he had survived and done was trying so hard to be gentle with you even now, especially now. You could tell he was trying his absolute hardest to be calm and to be comforting to you
He shifted closer suddenly and reached up carefully, brushing hair back from your face with tenderness âYou know what bothers me the most ?â
âWhat ?â
âThat you learned to expect people not to protect you.â he admittedÂ
Your throat tightened and his hand cupped your cheek softly âThatâs over now thoughâ
You looked at him quietly âOkayâ
âI mean it,â he said, voice low and steady âNothing is ever going to hurt you again, nothingâs gonna hurt you babyâ
Emotion rose so suddenly in your chest it caught you off guard âYou canât control everything.â
âNo,â he admitted âBut I can control me.â
His thumb brushed gently beneath your eye âI will never be another thing you survive.â
That nearly broke you and your eyes watered instantly. He noticed right away, expression shifting with immediate concern âHey,â he said softly âDid I say something wrong ?â
You shook your head quickly âNo.â
âThen why are you crying ?â
âBecause nobodyâs ever said that to me before.â
The look on his face after that broke your heart. There was no pity, just heartbreak that nobody had loved you carefully enough before himâŚkind of like he had felt just before he had met you. He pulled you into his chest slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted but you didnât
His arms wrapped around you carefully, securely, like he was building shelter around your body. He pressed his lips against your hair and kissed softlyÂ
âNothingâs gonna hurt you baby, as long as youâre with me youâll be just fineâ
Summary: When Andrew âPopeâ Cody was taken into care Smurf pulled some strings and got him put in a place close to Oceanside. That place was with you and your parents. Something Smurf would later regret when she realised that the bond you and Andrew forged in the month he was there was never going away. The years went by and the older boy became your best friend. Your protector. Your person.  Fast forward and when Andrew gets out of prison he finds out Smurfâs hatred for you has gone to a whole other level.Â
Pairing: Andrew âPopeâ Cody x readerÂ
Warnings: SMUT, slightly toxic behaviour, cock warming, slight dom/sub, not sure if I'm ovulating or just a pervert but here we are, alcohol, creepy guys, fluff.
a/n: seriously the feedback for this series is amazing. I love every single one so thank you. Not much to say about this part except it's shorter because I wanted a low angst part and... Pope Cody in that black hoodie fans... I got you.
Andrew still remembers the moment he realised that every version of himself had loved you in some way, even before he was old enough to understand it.
Heâd of course noticed the changes in you as you both grew up, the way your body filled out, the way your face sharpened yet adopted a new kind of softness. The fact that you were beautiful came as no surprise to him. Everything about you was beautiful to him.Â
It was the way people around you changed that was new. Boys, including his brother looked at you differently, paid more attention, laughed at the things you said when even he didnât find them funny. Every time it happened he would be there glaring next to you but nobody thought anything of it.Â
Because Pope was weird. Pope was protective of you. Everybody knew that.Â
It was one particular party. You were wearing denim shorts over your bikini and your hair was down, youâd had it cut differently. Heâd only been gone a couple of minutes and one of Bazâs friends had approached you. He was about to walk over, stand at your shoulder like a warning when his brother stepped in front of him.Â
âHey man. Sheâs a big girl now. Maybe she wants to talk to him.â Baz said with a smirk.Â
Andrew frowned. It was you, of course you didnât want to speak to some random guy. âWhat do you mean?â
âI mean youâre cock blowing her, dude.â Baz laughs and Pope is torn between shock and wanting to punch his brother in the throat for talking about you that way.Â
Baz just laughs walking away as Pope stands there, watching you. He knew you werenât the little girl with plaits following him around like a shadow anymore, known it for a while. Felt an ache in his chest at the thought of you doing the same thing as Julia and slowly drifting away.Â
Then he notices something. The way you smile politely but all the while your eyes search the crowd for something.Â
Him.Â
The moment your eyes meet his you relax. Like youâre relieved to see him, like you needed that reassurance. From him.Â
Something shifted in him.Â
Because there were boys everywhere now who looked at you, like you were something to be noticed, wanted, chosen.
And still, without thinking, without hesitation⌠you chose him.
Even though the world was starting to see you the way he always had, you still look for him. Nobody ever chose him and it lit something in him that hadnât gone out ever since.Â
He meets you half way as you start to walk in his direction. You smile up at him squinting and so he shifts to the side slightly to block the sun from your eyes with his body.Â
âWhere did you go?â You ask.
âSmurf needed me to help with some more beer.â You just nod, smiling and he feels it in his chest. Canât take his eyes off of you.Â
Your smile, your voice, the way you said his name all began to linger with him in a way he couldnât name.Â
Because you looked for him.Â
You chose him.Â
YouÂ
Pick me up at 12:30?
Iâll send you the address.Â
AndrewÂ
Iâll be right outside.Â
Call if you need me.Â
Life had been strangely calm for a while. You and Andrew had gotten into a strange domestic routine where you had Lena at your house if he had a job. Otherwise the three of you would stay at Lenaâs house.Â
Youâd taken over most of the school drop offs after he creeped out the attendant by trying to sit outside the school all day. Something you found adorable. And completely unsurprising.
Dinner would be on the table at the same time every night and you and Andrew spent every spare moment with Lena. To everyone else she was a normal little girl but sometimes youâd notice things. How she would stare off into the distance, how quiet she could get and of course the nightmares.Â
You did everything you could for her and so when she went to stay with her Aunt for a couple of days and your friend invited you out to a bar for the night you agreed.Â
Andrew drove you, a worried gaze on the hem of your dress that rode a little too high for his liking. It was still the same between you both but every small step⌠like the beach⌠like the fact he would kiss you all the time now made it clear this was more. More than it had ever been.
Youâd had a good night, kept him up to date every now and again but mostly had fun with your friend. Eventually your friend had introduced you to their friends, people youâd never met and one particular guy had taken a liking to you.Â
Youâd laugh politely declining any advances but you werenât sure what reason to give. Not that you needed one. You didnât have a boyfriend technically.
You had an Andrew Pope Cody.Â
Most people around Oceanside knew that and stayed well clear. Not this guy.
You had a few more drinks than youâd planned to and time starting running away with you as you caught up with your friend. It made you feel normal. Like you werenât practically raising a seven year old girl whose Mom had been murdered by the man you loved because her Grandma was a psychopath.Â
The guy who had kept trying to talk to you had intercepted you on the way to the bar again. You were politely telling him that you were going to get another drink when his face dropped slightly, his demeanour changing instantly. You turn to follow his gaze over your shoulder.Â
Andrew stood there at your left shoulder like he had done so many times before with his signature death glare directed solely on the man in front of you.
Without saying a word, his gaze never dropping he walks into the space between you and the guy, turning his back on him. Was it rude? Yes. Were you glad the guy finally got the picture and walked away, tail between his legs? Absolutely.Â
He threw one last glare over his shoulder to make sure the guy was gone before turning back to you. Still annoyed but softer. You were luckily never on the receiving end of one of those glares.
The alcohol buzz had you giddy and you have to force yourself to keep a straight face. Heâs stood in the front of you looking mad as hell and all you can think about is how good he looks in his dark jeans and black hoodie zipped all the way up.Â
âItâs 1am.â He says raising his voice only slightly, close enough for you to hear him over the music.
âOh shit.â You gasp as you dig through your bag for your phone.Â
Andrew
12 missed calls
Andrew
8 messages
âOops?â You say with a grimace.Â
Heâs not impressed. âYou ready?âÂ
âYeah.â You nod and after youâve said a quick goodbye to your friend you let him lead you out, arm around you and body a barrier between you and the people pushing through the crowd. Heâs still glaring when he opens the passenger door and helps you into his truck since youâre in heels.Â
He doesnât say anything until heâs been driving a couple of minutes. The silence stretches heavily and you reach to turn on the radio but he grabs your hand placing it back on your lap. His own gripping your bare thigh. âYou didnât answer your phone.âÂ
âI lost track of time. Iâm sorry.â His hand grips your thigh and you see his eyes flick to your legs, your dress riding up and you let it.Â
âWho was that guy?â He asks stiffly.Â
âI dunno he was with my friend. He was trying to talk to me. I told him I wasnât interested.â You tell him and notice his grip tightening on the steering wheel.Â
âSo why was he still bothering you?â He asked gruffly.Â
âCos most guys are creepy.â You tell him.
âDid anything like that happen while I was in jail?â He asks looking over at you.
âNo.â You lie. Of course there were creepy guys in the three years he was gone but nothing you couldnât handle and you were not about to make him angrier.Â
He just grunts, clearly not believing you. His hand stays steady on your thigh, his thumb stroking circles on the inside in a way that felt like he was calming himself.Â
Driving you insane.Â
But calming himself.Â
âWeâre going to talk about this.â He says as he pulls up to your apartment and the tone is vaguely familiar to the one he uses to talk to Lena. He slams his door when he gets out.Â
âShitâŚâ You whisper to yourself as you open your door, heâs there helping you out but his mouth is set in a grim line as he leads you into your apartment. He shuts and locks the door behind you and you walk into the living room staying stood in the middle as he prowls over to you, eyes dark.
You look him up and down appreciatively. He didnât often wear hoodies, you assumed he must have come to your straight from a job or something. You wonder how it had gone knowing how much pressure he was under with it all and starting to feel bad that youâd added to his stress.Â
The room is dim, only the lamp you left on in the corner casting shadows over his face as he watches you, taking in every micro expression on your face.Â
His head tilts and eyes narrow slightly as he recognises the heated look in your eyes.Â
âTake off your clothes.â He rasps, a voice that sends a shiver through you. âLeave the heels on.â The same confidence youâve noticed in him recently takes over him and you instinctively press your thighs together.Â
You keep eye contact with him as you slide off the dress, reaching behind yourself to unhook your bra before slowly letting it fall off you. He doesnât break eye contact even as you slide your panties down you legs and step out of them. He does lick his lips though.Â
Finally when youâre stood in just your heels he lets his gaze drop down, taking in every inch of you like you were something that needed to be appreciated. His fists clench at his side and you know heâs fighting not to touch you.Â
Youâre not sure how long he simply admires you for but when he finally looks back up at you its with a desire that spans the years. Youâre sure of it. Heâs still staring into your eyes as he undoes his belt and jeans, taking his time to undress the bottom half of himself.Â
Youâre not sure why he leaves on the hoodie but youâre glad he does, watching him walk away from where heâs neatly left his jeans, boxers, boots and socks.
He sits down on your couch, legs spread giving you a perfect view of his hard cock as he grips it in his hand. Soft pants leave him as he moves his hand up and down his impressive cock slowly, he continues to stare at you stood in the middle of the room with that intense look of his.
âCome here.â He says breathlessly and you instantly walk over to him, heels clicking on the floor. âFuckâŚâ He gasps under his breath as he looks you up and down, head to heels.Â
You straddle him, your already soaked pussy sliding along his cock.Â
âUh uh.â He growls, grasping your hips to keep you still. You feel him reach between you both, grabbing his cock and lining it up with you before guiding you to sink down on him. You both moan as he bottoms out, fully inside you but as you go to move his strong arms wrap around your waist like a vice stopping you. âNo, sweetheart.âÂ
You whimper confused but he only grabs your hair in his fist, not enough to hurt, just pull slightly as he kisses you forcefully. He pulls your head back gently by your hair.
âYou made me wait.â He whispers darkly. âNow you wait.âÂ
Once you realise what heâs doing you canât help but let out sharp sigh. You realise now the reason he left the hoodie on was for it to feel like an uneven playing ground. He was in charge.Â
âDonât move. Okay?â You nod. He leans fully back on the couch watching you try not to squirm.
âLook at you.â He says as he possessively squeezes your hips. One of his hands lifts up to play with your hair as he watches your face carefully, like heâs looking for any sign youâre not okay with this. You nod again, letting him know that this is okay.Â
âYou sit there and wait like I did.â He rasped as his hands start to move over you, ghosting up your spine and around to the front where he cups your breasts in his hands. His thumbs flick your nipples and you whimper unable to stop yourself clenching around him, hips tilting desperate for any kind of friction.Â
A low groan escapes him and he looks at you warningly. You donât move an inch. He continues to play with your breasts, squeezing and stroking, rolling your nipples between his fingers. Well and truly taking his damn time.
When he leans forward taking one into his mouth, suckling on it he moans and you feel his cock throb inside of you. You gasp loudly, eyes squeezing shut with the exertion of not moving despite the way your walls flutter around him.Â
âGood girl.â He praises softly when he realises your nipple with a wet sound. You let out a cry your hands moving to grip at the shoulders of his hoodie, stopping yourself falling completely against him.Â
âNot helpingâŚâ You groan.Â
âNever said I was going to help.â He murmurs with that lilt of humour that you usually love but right now you curse. Heâs enjoying this far too much while you feel like youâre going to combust at any moment.Â
You whimper his name and he brushes his lips against yours whilst shushing you. His mouth leaves a wet trail from your mouth, down your jaw and neck to your breasts again.Â
âYouâre doing so well, sweetheart.â His breath against your wet nipple makes you shiver and moan as he suckles on it, indulging himself entirely. For you itâs torture and as he hums contentedly you canât stop your hips rocking into his.Â
His head snaps up looking at you with that intense gaze.Â
âI said⌠donât. Move.â As he holds you completely still, his voice is strained as he feels you pulsing around him.Â
âPleaseâŚâ You beg. âIâm soâŚâ You moan breathlessly feeling his hard cock twitch inside you. He liked you begging. The same way you liked him begging. You couldnât wait to get pay back for this. âIm sorry I made you wait.â
âI know youâre sorry sweetheart.â He says softly against your mouth as one hand moves to grab your hair gently again pulling your head back. âBut now you have to wait like I did.â You feel his mouth sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck, then his teeth scraping and you let out a whimper as your pussy clenches even tighter around him. You wondered if you could come like this.Â
You prayed that you could.Â
He canât help himself touching you everywhere and while watching your face contort with need he feels like maybe he has been forgiven. How else would he be allowed to feel what heaven was like?
His head falls against the back of the couch, groaning loudly as he feels you rhythmically pulse around him, he plays with your tits his eyes snapping to where youâre connected. âFuck⌠you want me to fuck you?â His voice is so rough it sends pleasant shocks straight to your pussy. âHuh?â He spreads his legs wider, pulling you even closer while bending to lap at your nipple again. You grind against him.Â
You have no control over it and when he gently bites your nipple you cry out his name. He also seems to lose control for a second, his hips bucking up into you before he freezes. Holding you still as you let out an actual sob.Â
âUse your words, beautiful.â His husky voice had you gripping his hair this time, your mouth hanging open and he couldnât resit tugging and sucking on your bottom lip gently.Â
âPlease⌠please fuck me.â The desperate voice that rips out of you isnât one you recognise but Andrew does.Â
Without warning he lifts and flips you onto your back, grabbing your legs to keep them up in the air so your heeled feet rest on his shoulders as he braces himself on either side of your head. From above you he uses his leverage thrusting his cock in and out of you at a brutal pace, fucking you into the couch.Â
Finally he is giving you what you need. You almost cry with relief.
âIâmâŚâ But you donât get the chance to finish the sentence as you fall off the edge heâd been keeping you on, it comes in waves and he continues to pound into you.Â
âThatâs it.â His voice comes out broken and you feel him kissing one of your ankles possessively. You donât really come down from your orgasm, too overstimulated and full of need as you moan.
âThank youâŚâ You tell him breathlessly and he just smiles, almost shyly which is absurd whilst he has you in pieces beneath him.Â
âYouâre welcome, sweetheart. You did so good.â He moves back slightly to grab hold of your legs as he continues to bury himself in you at a slightly slower pace. He watches your face crumble in pleasure, part of him loving how broken you looked under him. Only for him. Completely safe and cared for but wrecked from sheer pleasure.Â
He held the backs of your thighs firmly, pulling you open for him without breaking rhythm, pushing them back so he could press in deeper until there was no distance left between you.Â
âMine?â He grits out the question as he picks up his pace again.Â
âOhâŚâ You gasp at the feeling of him so deep inside you hitting a spot inside you that makes your vision blur. It feel so incredibly intimate to be practically bent in half and spread open for him this way. You feel completely owned by him and you love it. âYours⌠always.âÂ
He leans down kissing you deeply with a look of pride in his eyes and something else, something more vulnerable.Â
Heâs frenzied now, starting to mutter words as he thrusts into you as deep as he can possibly get. âMine. MineâŚâÂ
You just nod your scream muffled as you bury your face in his hoodie.
âYou chose meâŚâ He growls. He fucks you with the intensity heâs feeling at the revelation you have always and will always choose him.Â
You were his.Â
His to take care of.Â
His to love.Â
His to make shake beneath him as you come around his cock a second time. He moans your name not letting up, every time he bottoms out his pelvis brushes against your clit as you meet and youâre a trembling mess.Â
He holds you in his arms now, grounding you as you fall apart again. âYou feel so fucking goodâŚâ He whispers hoarsely as he bends his head to look down, watching his cock slide in and out of you, glistening with wetness. His breath hitches at the sight and he follows you over the edge as your pussy visibly quivers around him, gripping him like a vice.Â
The sound he lets out is almost animalistic and you feel his cum spurt inside you deeper than ever before, his cock throbbing. Shallow thrusts keeping him deep inside you as you moan words of encouragement.Â
When he finally calms he all but collapses against you, neither of you can speak, clinging onto each other.
When he can he turns his head to kiss your cheek and ask, âare you alright?âÂ
The laugh that escapes you is one full of love and joy, your heart is lighter than it has been in weeks and you turn your head to kiss him softly. His own eyes arenât haunted for once, a genuine smile on his lips and you could cry.
âHandsomeâŚâ You start and you feel him melt into you. âIâm more than alright.âÂ
He just nods, a glint in his eye making him look younger than he had in years.Â
He grunts as he pulls himself out of you. Standing he grabs your feet as you stay laid on the couch in the funny position you had ended up in. He rests them on his chest as he pulls off your heels, his thumbs pressing gently into the arch of each foot. Bending slightly to kiss them before lowering them onto the floor gently.Â
âI like that hoodie.â You smile as you sit up.Â
âYou do?â He replied innocently as he unzips it, taking it off and throwing it to you. âYours.â The way he says it makes you shiver, a recall to the intense moment youâd just had declaring you were his. You hoped this was his way of reciprocating.Â
You pull it on and itâs warm and smells like him as you zip it up over your naked body.Â
âItâs late, you need sleep. We can shower in then morning before we go pick Lena upâ You suddenly remember how late it is.Â
You take the hand heâs offering. You both get ready for bed quickly, and you fall into bed wrapped around each other. Smelling of one another and you canât help but wonder if that was deliberate on his part.Â
âIâm sorryâŚâ He says just as your drifting off. âIf that was too much.â The slightly fragile side of him coming out again. âWe did a job today. It went good. But thereâs always something with them. Nothing is ever simple anymore.â He shakes his head in annoyance. To Andrew it was always simple, do what needed to be done, no bullshit.
He liked to be in control of the situation and his brothers were all dealing with their own shit, it was a minefield. As capable as Andrew was, youâd seen him lead them more times than you can count theyâre all adults who couldnât be controlled.
He had clearly needed to control something tonight and you were happy to volunteer.Â
âIt wasnât, handsome.â You smile up at him. âI liked it.â A shy laugh escapes you. âA lot.âÂ
âSleep now.â He kisses your temple, playing with your hair. The mixture of alcohol and world altering sex had you falling asleep in record time but not before you heard Andrew whisper something.Â
Something heâd never called you before.
You convinced yourself that it must have been a dream creeping into reality but you still smile when you hear it.Â
Summary: When Andrew âPopeâ Cody was taken into care Smurf pulled some strings and got him put in a place close to Oceanside. That place was with you and your parents. Something Smurf would later regret when she realised that the bond you and Andrew forged in the month he was there was never going away. The years went by and the older boy became your best friend. Your protector. Your person.  Fast forward and when Andrew gets out of prison he finds out Smurfâs hatred for you has gone to a whole other level.Â
Pairing: Andrew âPopeâ Cody x readerÂ
Warnings: death, mental illness, angst
a/n: as ever thank you so much for all interactions with this series. They seriously give me life. I'm so enjoying writing this but having people along for the ride does make it so much more fun. So this one is a little heavy. No smut I'm afraid, it just didn't fit in anywhere. You will see why. I will make up for it in the next one though. I've already written it and it's potentially my favourite part yet! So I'll probably post that tomorrow. Enjoy!
It was inevitable that Baz would find out about what Andrew did to Cath. Of course it was. Especially now that Smurf was in prison. Put there by Baz and not one of her âboysâ were rallying to get her out. It was no shock she would try to poison them against one another.Â
What you hadnât accounted for was Baz sitting in your kitchen when you got home from work.
You stay silent in the doorway not wanting to go any closer. There was only one reason you could think that he would be sat there at your dining table.Â
Revenge.
Andrew had killed his wife and you were the closest equivalent to that. Except Andrew actually gave a shit about you. The only thing that kept you calm was the fact that surely Baz knew the hell he would unleash in his brother if he never saw you again.Â
But maybe Baz didnât care about that.Â
Andrew had called you the second Smurf had called him to tell him his brother knew what heâd done. Told you to get home as soon as possible. It was supposed to be a sanctuary none of them knew about. But Baz had found you.
âYou knew.â He said calmly.Â
You take a deep steadying breath, not saying a word. You donât need to. The gun on the table in front of him has all your attention.Â
âOf course you knew.â He laughs humourlessly. âSit down.âÂ
âIâd rather not.â Your voice shows all the fear youâre trying to hide and your shaking hands are clenched together in front of you.Â
âSit down.â He raises his voice and you flinch before walking over to the table and slowly sitting down across from him.Â
âBazâŚâ You start.Â
âThat bedroom⌠youâve decorated that for Lena?â He asks his voice steady but full of rage. âGuilty conscience?â He ducks down slightly to look you dead in the eye and you stare back. âSheâs been having sleepovers with the man who killed her Mom and the woman who knew about it.âÂ
âSmurfâŚâ Youâre sure you can get through to him.Â
âShut the fuck up!â He shouts. âDonât you see how fucked that is?âÂ
You look away now, to his hand resting on the table beside the gun. There was nothing to say because youâd thought the same thing and been racked with guilt for it.Â
No amount of ice cream, toys or baking could fix the fact that Andrew, the man you loved and stood by had murdered her Mom.Â
âPlaying house with my kid?!â Spit flies from his mouth as he screams at you, hand slamming on the table. You want to argue back that heâs been everywhere but by his daughters side and someone had to step up. It didnât seem like the time.Â
âSmurf told him she was talking to the cops.â You can barely hear yourself speak over the blood rushing in your ears. Your heart racing. âHe thought he was protecting you allâŚâÂ
âShut up!â He shouts.Â
âEverything he does is for you and your brothers!â You shout back now, not quite sure if itâs due to panic to anger. His face softens slightly. He knows what youâre saying is true.Â
You open your mouth to speak again just as the front door bangs open followed by Andrewâs frantic shout of your name and then heâs right there in the kitchen. When he seeâs the scene in front of him he freezes with a pained expression on his face, his face gets red, his chest heaving. He is seething, gun gripped in his hand but he doesnât raise it.Â
Looking back at Baz you realise why. In the commotion of Andrew bursting in he had grabbed the gun and was now pointing it directly at you.Â
Nobody spoke.Â
Nobody moved.Â
âShe has nothing to do with this.â Andrew growls. âPoint the gun at me. I did it!â He is desperate as he holds up his hands, the gun goes loose in his grip as he places it on the kitchen counter.
Baz doesnât do anything. Just watches him, gun still pointed at you.Â
âPoint it at me!â He roars. âDo it!âÂ
You shake your head at Andrew but he doesnât even look your way, zeroed in on the threat.Â
A whimper escapes you as Baz does just that, the gun now pointed at Andrew as he rises from the his chair. You notice that unlike when he pointed it at you Baz has the gun lowered, pointing at his brothers legs.
Andrew finally looks at you. Eyes still frenzied. âYouâre okay.â Youâre amazed at how he manages to keep his voice soft, comforting you at a time like this. âLeave.â This time itâs an order. One you arenât willing to follow.Â
âNo.â You say shakily. There was no way you were leaving him with a gun pointed at him. He is pleading with you through his gaze but you look back at him determined and he knows he isnât going to win. Growling your name he turns to Baz. Needing to keep his attention on him instead of you.Â
âShe didnât suffer.â Andrew rasps, his voice breaking. âWe thought she was talking to the copsâŚâ He has relaxed ever so slightly now that the gun isnât being pointed at you but still on high alert because youâre there. You can tell by the way he holds himself, can almost feel the way his short nails are probably cutting into his palm as he clenches his fists.Â
Even so he sounds resigned, exhausted with the weight of it all.Â
Baz says nothing, scarily calm in a way you hope means he wonât do anything rash.Â
âI did it. Like I always do.â He sounds so defeated, tears fill your eyes. âItâs always me! Nobody ever thought of me!â He shouts through heavy breaths. âYou never thought of me! I rotted in prison for three years and you didnât care!â
It was clear this was something Baz felt guilty about. He knew more about what Andrew went through in that prison that you did, that was certain and you watch the tension drop out of Bazâs shoulders.
âNot one of you ever thought about me!!â None one of this is new to you. Youâd had this conversation with him so many times over the years, comforted him as best you could while knowing the people who really needed to hear it didnât care to listen.Â
âAnd now you come into this house and threaten the one good thing⌠the one good thing in my fucking life!â He shouts as he walks straight up to Baz, who raises the gun again but it doesnât stop Andrew. Theyâre inches apart with the gun pressed into his abdomen and you can only cry out a weak stop as you jump out of your seat. âI deserve to be punished! She doesnât.â He looks over at you and itâs like heâs apologising, like heâs trying to refresh his memories of the parts of you that others wouldât be able to recall or notice.Â
He always did though. Â
His name is a whispered whimper on your lips as his eyes squeeze shut like he wants the image of you to be right there, the last thing he ever seeâs as he turns back to his Brother.Â
âGo ahead and do it.â He says, eyes remaining closed. âI want you to. Please!â His voice is desperate, all the pain heâs ever felt right there finally burying him.Â
âNo.â Youâre sobbing now and Baz actually looks over at you, just as effected by his Brothers begging.Â
âPlease.â Andrew whispers and it breaks you. You clamp a hand over your mouth but you canât look away from Baz, shaking your head with a plea of your own in your eyes.Â
Please donât hurt him.Â
The moment drags on, every moment feeling like canât breath.
When Baz puts the gun into the back of his jeans you let out hysterical sob, catching yourself on the table as you collapse into the chair bent in on yourself.Â
Baz grabs his Brothers face. âI know it was Smurf. I know. It wasnât you.âÂ
Andrew fights back. âJust kill me.âÂ
âLook at me!â Baz takes control in a way youâd seen him do when they were younger. Reminding you of the times when you, Julia and Baz were the only ones who could get through to him. You were a team until he fucked it all up.Â
Heâs holding his face, practically holding him up. âI love you Brother. I love you. I take care of you. Thatâs what I do. I take care of you. Iâll always take care of you.âÂ
Tears roll down your face as you watch the pair and part of you canât help but think about all the times he didnât take care of him. How this felt a lot like the way Smurf used her words but never followed them up with her actions.Â
You were just glad the gun was away. That Andrew was safe.
Even if not from himself. You could fix that. You would always fix that.Â
âI forgive you.â Baz says. Theyâre both crying and Andrew is looking at him shocked as ever at the thought that someone would forgive him. âYou hear me? I forgive you.âÂ
You canât take anymore and stand shakily as they have their moment, feeling as if you float past them into your bedroom. You hear them crying. You hear Baz continuing to promise he will look after him as you stand at your window processing everything you had just seen in a daze.Â
Youâre still stood, arms folded chewing on the nail of your thumb when you hear someone at your bedroom door. Surprised to see Baz when you turn.
âHe needs you.â He says quietly. One thing about Baz that was opposite to his Brother? He would look you in the eyes no matter what he had done wrong. âHe always needs you.âÂ
You just nod.
He opens his mouth to speak, closes it again and sighs before trying again. âIâm sorry forâŚâ You wait for him to finish, your eyes giving nothing away. Maybe in a little shock. âI shouldnât have done that. I just wanted to scare him. I felt like I had to⌠I dunnoâŚâ He sighs running his hand through his hair.Â
âJust donât do it again.â You say in a monotone voice.Â
âAre you kidding? Iâm lucky he hasnât broken all my limbs.â He laughs softly. You donât. Itâs not funny. None of this is. âIâm gonnaâŚâ He turns to leave but stops and looks over his shoulder at you. âThe room looks really nice by the way⌠thank you.âÂ
It might be the shock or just how much you love Lena but you soften slightly. âSheâs welcome anytime.âÂ
He just nods before he walks out, you hear the front door close and walk out of your bedroom.
Heâs sat on your sofa, staring at the floor unmoving. As you look at him tears begin to fall again remembering him begging his Brother to kill him. You had noticed heâd gotten worse recently, more distant. Hadnât been around as much but you knew he still dealing with his families shit and looking after Lena on top of everything else. You helped as much as he let you.
There was something about him the last time youâd seen him only a day or so ago. He had been here with you when he got a call about Lena having an accident at The Cody house. One that could have landed her in hospital.
They had been having one of their parties and nobody was keeping an eye on her. Youâd both raced over there and he barged his way into the house, left you with Lena before grabbing a shot gun and screaming at everyone to get out.Â
Youâd been so proud of him.Â
You slept with Lena that night as the rest of them discussed Smurfs arrest. He woke you both up with a soft voice and a look in his eye that felt like love. Heâd taken you both to breakfast and dropped Lena off at school before taking you home.Â
He had kissed you like he was going off to war and youâd had a sinking feeling ever since youâd watched him drive away.Â
You walk over to him slowly, the way one would approach a wild animal, not because youâre scared but because you donât want to spook it. Sitting down beside him you wrap an arm around his shoulders, gently letting your nose brush the side of his face and he melts instantly.Â
He leans into you until heâs laid sideways, his head resting on your thighs, one hand gripping your leg and the other pulling your arm around him securely. Your tears continue to fall as you hold him close. Neither of you speak.Â
Thereâs nothing to say.Â
You just need each other.Â
You always would.Â
You both fell asleep that way eventually until you felt yourself being carried to bed. He took off your shoes, left a lingering kiss on your forehead and left. With Smurf gone he didnât trust anyone to get Lena to school and so he stayed at the house as much as he hated it.Â
It had been planned for a while that you would go and visit your parents that next day, you called him when you woke up mid morning and he insisted you still go. He sounded⌠off but he always did these days so you didnât question it.Â
Andrew:
Come to Smurfs.
You get the message when youâre halfway home that evening. You had stayed a few times recently, since Smurf was in jail you could.
When you pull into the house, the gate closing behind your car youâre surprised to see Lena alone walking into the yard
âHey Princess. What are you doing out here?â You ask as you catch up to her.
âUncle Pope told J to stay with me but he left.â She said sadly.Â
âHuh. He did, did he. Come on.â You continue walking with her, your hand on her shoulder. Instantly you notice something is off. Lucy is there for one and sheâs crying, Nicky stood at her side, also looking sad. Andrew, Deran and J have their backs to you.Â
You hear Andrew speaking but donât catch anything until you get closer and hear Lucy. What she says has both you and Lena stop in your tracks.Â
âGod, I canât believe Baz is dead.âÂ
The words donât register. Heâs not dead. You just saw him yesterday. He held a gun up to your head.Â
âMy Dadâs Dead?â Lenaâs little voice brings you back to reality and you realise why Andrew had told J to stay with Lena. Shit.Â
Everyone turns to look at you both, Andrew only briefly locking eyes with you before it switches to a death glare directed right at J. He walks straight up to him and you immediately sense a change in him from the broken man curled in your lap the night before. Something has hardened. Without Baz, without Smurf it was all down to him.Â
He quickly bends to lift Lena into his arms before giving you a serious look and grabbing your hand pulling you along with them.Â
Lena had cried for nearly two hours before passing out. Youâd cried with her. Andrew had cried too, eventually you whispered âI got itâ to him knowing he wasnât good in these situations.Â
Holding her while she cried solidified the bond you already had with her.Â
Life shouldnât be so hard for a little girl. Yet here she was, orphaned all because of one woman. There was no doubt in your mind this was Smurf. You hadnât even gotten to speak to anybody about it but you just knew it. She will have worked out Baz was the one to frame her, he was the only one who could have.Â
Vindictive bitch strikes again.Â
When you leave Lena asleep itâs Deran you see first, eyes red and looking lost. You open your arms to him straight away and he practically falls into the hug as he cries. You wonder if anybody has hugged him yet. Or Andrew. Probably not. It wasnât The Codyâs first reaction to anything you had learned.Â
âIâm so sorry.â You whisper as he pulls away wiping his eyes. He just nods.Â
âIâm glad youâre here. Pope has been being a dick to everyone all day.â He tells you. There were plenty times youâd been called in due to Popeâs moods. You were basically his emotional support human. The funny thing was, sometimes you didnât even need to do anything to calm him. Youâd just be there existing and suddenly heâd be okay.Â
It was reciprocated.Â
âCut him some slack.â You say with a sad smile. âHeâs worried about Lena. About all of you.âÂ
âHeâs still a dick.â He scoffs.Â
You laugh softly. âIâll try and rein him in a little.â He squeezes your shoulder in thanks as he walks past you.Â
Everyone else is in the kitchen when you walk in.Â
âSheâs asleep. SheâŚâ Your voice breaks and Andrew is by your side in a second, his hand stroking the side of your face. Nicky and Lucy watch the interaction like you have three heads. Youâre used to it. People didnât often see this side to him and youâre sure from what Deran said heâs been a nightmare all day. âWhy didnât you tell me?â You whisper.Â
âCome with me.â He says tiredly as he pulls you to what once was his room. The room that felt like home to you in this place even though Smurf had stripped it down.Â
Once youâre in the room he faces you. âI just⌠I couldnât⌠I wanted you to have a nice day with your parents andâŚâÂ
You close the distance. âItâs okay.â Wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to bury his face in the spot between your shoulder and neck he seemed to favour. âI just wish Iâd been here for you.â You whisper.
He just nuzzles into you, his hands pulling you to him by your hips, rubbing up to your waist before he completely wraps you in his arms. God heâd needed this. He finally let himself cry and you just hold him.Â
Life changed quickly for you both.Â
It was no surprise to you that Andrew took on the role of leader effortlessly if not slightly reluctantly. Youâd watch him with his new found sense of purpose proudly. Heâd always been the most capable, that had always been clear to you. He had a new air about him, confident in a way youâd never seen him before and so determined to keep everyone going.Â
Your focus became Lena as well as her Uncle. Just in case he needed someone. Not completely convinced he could just switch like that.Â
Andrew was on high alert for a while after Baz and hadnât let you leave his side.Â
If you went out somewhere with him, he would put himself between you and any crowd, any exit. Wherever he and Lena stayed, you stayed but eventually he and the family relaxed. Assuming if anyone was coming for them they would have by now.Â
If Smurf was coming, you always corrected in your head. You hadnât broached that subject with Andrew yet but you knew he suspected.Â
Lena had expressed that she felt better in her bedroom, which you encouraged Andrew to go with since the poor kidâs life had done a complete 360. The least he could do was let her keep her home. When he hadnât let you leave his side you had slept on the couch, sometimes on his lap but most the time he didnât sleep anyway.Â
Lena would have a nightmares and you would comfort her back to sleep, staying with her as her small fingers clutched at your shirt even in her sleep. Andrew would sit in on the couch all night. Shotgun on the table. No way of anybody getting to you both without going through him.Â
She had stayed at your place a few times but understandably she mostly wanted to be at home or Smurfs. Needing some familiarity.Â
When Andrew had suggested you quit your job in the past youâd just laugh it off, never willing to live off of him in any way but this time was different. He asked for your help.Â
You walked into Lenaâs house one day to see Andrew stood in the kitchen.Â
He looks up from whatever he is glaring at on the counter but thereâs no softness in has eyes. Not even for you. You walk into the kitchen and lean sideways on the counter, facing him, your hand rubbing his back.Â
âWhat is it?â You ask gently and he finally looks at you. Heâs worried but his brown pulls together in annoyance.Â
âItâs Lena.â He starts. âSheâs being bullied.âÂ
âWhat?!â You gasp.Â
âI spoke to her teacher today. Theyâre bullying her about her dead dad. Can you believe that?!â Anger rises in you instantly. Lena was so sweet, your heart breaking at the thought of her being scared or sad. âSomeone kicked her. Couple of girls cornered her in a bathroom and told her that her dad was a criminal.âÂ
You stare back at him speechless not quite fathoming how kids could be so cruel. Fury rips through you.Â
âWhat are their Momâs names?â You ask deadly serious.
âWhat?â He asks turning to face you.Â
âGive me their Momâs names. Iâll talk to them. Those little shits heard Lenaâs Dadâs a criminal from someone⌠theyâre raising little bullies then Iâll bully them.â
He smirks ever so slightly. âThat wonât help anything, sweetheart. Besides youâve never been in a fight in your life.âÂ
âWell this is a good reason to have my first fight if I need to.â He just looks at you unconvinced, clearly amused.Â
âOkay, Rocky letâs take it down a notch.â He reaches up and tugs gently at the hair coming loose from your ponytail. âIf anyoneâs fighting anyone itâs me breaking their Dadâs legs.â He growls and you can tell heâd already thought of fifty different ways to do it before you arrived. âWe donât want any attention from DCFS.âÂ
Shaking your head you step into him, knowing exactly where his head will be going. To one of the most traumatic experiences of his childhood, and there were a lot, but also the one that brought you into his life.Â
âI was lucky.â He rasps. âI canât let that happen to herâŚâÂ
âWe wonât.â You tell him assuredly. Letting him know this wasnât all on him.Â
âI was thinking⌠I canât do this alone.â He tilts your head up with a finger on your chin. âLena loves you⌠youâre so good with her.â He pauses, a vulnerable look in his eyes. "Why donât you quit that job you hate so much and look after Lena.âÂ
âButâŚâÂ
âIâm asking for your help.â He interrupts. âYou havenât used our card once. For anything. Not even the room for Lena.âÂ
Shrugging you look up at him. You know there is a hell of a lot in there. Curiosity had won you over of course, youâre only human.Â
âYou never need to worry about money.â He says sincerely until anger flashes through his eyes and you know heâs remember that you did in fact have to worry about money for a couple of years.Â
âAre you sure?â You ask quietly, hoping to distract him from his thoughts more than anything.Â
âLet me take care of you.â He whispers, his hands finding you waist. The feel of his hands spread out on your waist and lower back making you lean into him even more.Â
âOkay.â You say quietly as you nod. It was an easy decision. You being completely free to take care of Lena meant taking some of the pressure off him.Â
âYeah?â He asked looking hopeful.Â
âYeah.â You smile up at him.Â
His fingers gently play with your hair again, his eyes scanning your face before kissing you gently. You pull back and he tries to follow you.
âSo⌠LenaâŚâ You sigh, your hands gripping the lapels of his jacket.Â
âI have an idea but I want run it by you first.â Your stomach fills with butterflies at the implications of that.Â
Later that day youâre both sat in Lenaâs bedroom, Andrew on the bed beside her whilst you perch on one of the small chairs in her room precariously. She almost giggles at you but doesnât. Sheâs sad and it breaks you. Youâd promised Andrew you would try and get her to talk to you more.Â
As much as he clearly loved Lena he struggled with the more delicate parts of being a seven year old girl. Understandably.Â
âSo⌠Smurf never made me go to school. She didnât see the point.â Andrew starts and although you have a lot to say about that particular decision of Smurfs you stay quiet. Enamoured by the soft, gentle way he speaks to Lena. âI used to get into fights.âÂ
Understatement. You think.
âI used to⌠punch people. One time I lit a teachers desk on fire.âÂ
You clear your throat at that one to get his attention and he looks over at you bemused as you just smile tightly back at him. You scrunch up your nose to indicate that maybe heâs giving her too much detail. He nods and continues.Â
âAnd Grandma Smurf, she⌠she didnât want the hassle. So she let me skip it.â
âI hate it there.â Lena says sadly.Â
âSchool sucks. But you are smart like your Mom, and sheâd want you to go. So youâre going.â He says plainly.Â
You reach over to grab Lenaâs hand. âBut you donât have to go back to that school. Isnât that right Uncle Pope?âÂ
You both look over at him as he nods placing the leaflets youâd both gotten onto her bed. New schools. Private schools. One that cost a pretty penny. Which would be coming out of your joint account.Â
You found it strange that he would even ask your permission to do it. You still didnât see it as your money. You told him he could empty it if it helped Lena and he had pulled you into an embrace that was still making you shiver when you thought about it.Â
His warm mouth brushing against your neck. Strong hands pushing their way under your t shirt to find skin and just caress it, pulling you in against his chest. Heat coming from the solid expanse through his think black t shirt that you adored him in.Â
It had been a while.Â
âPick one.â He says.
âWhat?â She askâs looking at you both. You nod with a smile.Â
âGo ahead. Pick a school.â Andrew tells her.Â
âThese are for rich kids.â Lena says looking down at the leaflets.Â
âWhat the hell do you think you are?â He asks with a hint of playfulness in his voice. You smile over at him, you know your eyes must be shining. You donât think youâd ever been more proud of him. The way he had taken everything in his stride, juggling both Lena and family business.Â
He seemed sturdier recently. Less fragile. You wondered if it was Smurfs absence or the fact that he had so much other stuff to focus on but whatever it was you were glad of it.Â
Lena smiled up at him.Â
âOkay my ass is numb. Why donât we order pizza and look through these outside, huh?â You say as you stand up stretching.Â
âButt.â Andrew corrects as he looks up at you from his seat on the bed, brows furrowed.Â
âOops, sorry Uncle Pope Butt.â You response with a smirk. Lena does giggle now and Andrew mouth upturns at one side. Good enough for you.Â
You grab Lena from her bed, settling her on your hip despite her being a little too big and carry her out of the room. âBring the leaflets, Uncle Pope.â You call as you leave and he just sits there for a second.
So grateful for the effortless ease you bring to any situation with Lena. He often wonders how he would cope through life without you but heâs certain he would have struggled with this particular turn of events without you.Â
He grabs the leaflets with a soft smile and follows you, pulling his phone from his pocket to call for pizza.
There were few things that Andrew still felt in control of in his life right now but this one, for tonight was easy.Â
If his girls wanted pizza. They were getting pizza.Â
pope cody x reader; dubcon, no smut but it's mentioned
Thinking about Pope getting out of prison and his family get the bright idea to hunt you down and bring you back to town to keep him leashed. You're the only person who was able to turn Pope into a lovesick puppy, and that's exactly what they need right now when he's angry, unstable, and rough from prison.
So Pope comes home to you in his room, tied up, and he's horrified at first that his family would do this to you. But then he smells the perfume you still wear, the one he used to buy you when you were going out, and he feels up your soft arms, your hands, your painted fingernails. His resolve starts to fray. You flinch, breathing tensely as he touches you. Your thighs are warm and plush, stomach bunched in rolls where you're folded and hog-tied on his bed.
You're shaking, terrified, and of course Pope feels bad, he's not an animal, but... you're his first and only source of comfort right now. He thought about you in prison, hated how you two broke up. You'd yelled at him to leave you alone. Pope had every intention of doing that, but now you're here, pretty and smelling good and in his bed, and he's a weak man. Everyone's always told him so.
So he sits you up, pulls out your gag, removes the blindfold. He reties you so your wrists are connected to the bedpost instead. You glare at him but you know better than to scream. He tells you he missed you. He just wants a good night's sleep. He hasn't fully slept since before you broke up. Pope got used to sleeping in your bed, your legs around his, and now he doesn't know what to do with himself at night.
But you're here now. You'll keep him in check. He can be good for you. That's what he believes as he presses up against you, feeling your warmth bleed into him. He tucks his face into your chest, an arm and a leg around you. His cock hardens, pushing against your thigh, but he ignores it, and he hopes you will too. "Sorry," he rasps. "Can't help it. Won't fuck you."
All you do is scoff, like you don't believe him. But Pope means it. He won't fuck you if you don't want it. He really can be good. He'll prove it.
But he's not letting you go. Not this time.
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