Baz decided to be fucking dumb and tell Pope he'll never be a dad. He takes that dream of his and goes to his very lovely girlfriend to make it a reality.
Content Warning: Pope's got a breeding kink, afab reader, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people), creampie, tit grabbing, lactation mention, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, missionary, slight manhandling, Baz is a dick, use of baby and princess (for reader) and honey (for Pope), use of Pope's real name (by reader), no use of Y/N
He’ll never say it out loud, but Pope Cody undeniably has a breeding kink.
He’s always wanted kids. He’s never once admitted that out loud, but he thinks about it sometimes. He thought about it even more when Baz had Lena. Seeing how Baz ignored the poor little girl had Pope taking on a fatherly role. At first, he didn’t even know he was doing it. He thought he was just being helpful, which is what he’s good at. He’d take her to and from school, pack her lunches, take her to the beach. He’d put Band-Aids on her knees when she fell trying skateboarding for the first time. He took her to doctor’s appointments when Baz just “forgot” to show up.
But he never recognized that as a paternal instinct until you said something.
You had said it with such a big happy smile on your face. He didn’t say anything, just nodded his head in response. Truly, he didn’t know how to respond. He was never good at expressing positive emotions. He was never taught how to do that. So instead, he kept those words in his head and his heart, thinking about them any time he was alone or was having a bad day. They always made him feel better.
Over time though, they started to feel… heavy. They became more than just a compliment. They were changing, reforming themselves into a need too great for him to ignore. But how could he tell you that? He didn’t wanna scare you away. You loved him more than anything, he knew that, of course, but how would you feel about having a baby with him? He had issues out the ass, for god’s sake. His obsessive compulsive tendencies, very little emotional regulation, and then there was the whole career criminal aspect of his life. He didn’t even wanna think about all the shit he’d gone through with Smurf.
But being a father was starting to eat at him. Every day, he found himself wanting it more and more. He wanted a baby. With you. He wanted to see you with a baby bump and know it was him who put it there. Pope Cody wanted to make himself a daddy, and you a mommy.
What really fucked with him though? Baz. Baz and his big ass mouth.
They were arguing about Lena. Specifically about Baz’s girlfriend’s attitude towards Lena. That’s when he said it.
“You don’t know shit and you never will. Do you get that?” Baz practically spat at Pope. “No one is ever gonna have a kid with you. Ever.”
That fucked Pope up in a way he couldn’t verbalize. It made him so fucking angry and sad and disgusted all at the same time that he felt like he was gonna puke. So he left the house. Left and went running straight to you.
Your front door flew open. You knew it was him because you could hear him taking off his shoes by the door. A habit he’d developed since he first started coming over. You could also hear him breathing though. It was hard and heavy. You’d heard that before from him. You knew something was wrong.
“Andrew?” Your voice was tinged with concern as you rounded the corner. “What’s going on, honey?”
He freezes in the entryway. You were the only person who ever called him by his real name. The only person he wanted to call him Andrew. It made his shoulders relax, but only ever so slightly.
Before you can get another word out, his mouth found yours in a rough, longing kiss. His body was shaking from how upset he still was with Baz’s words. He couldn’t take it anymore. You had to know. He needed to be a daddy. Now.
“That fuckin’ asshole.” He growled against your lips. “Doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.”
“What’re you talking about?” You panted out. "Who?"
He pulls back for just a second. Poor thing. You’re so confused as you grab his biceps so tightly, all breathless and ambushed by his need. His eyes roam over you and he bends his knees, arms looping under your thighs to pick you up.
“Baz.” He says the man’s name as if it burns coming out of his mouth. “Said no one’s ever gonna have a kid with me.”
Pope sees your confusion morph into anger as he carries you towards your bedroom. He almost smirks at how you get so offended on his behalf.
“That motherfucker doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
This time, he does smile.
Pope sets you down on your feet. His chest bumps yours as his fingers fly to your waistband. He tugs hard at the button and zipper there. He’s desperate to get you out of them, so that way he can get into you.
“You’d have my baby, princess?” He pants, kissing you again.
When you wrap your arms around his neck and press as close to him as you can get, Pope knows the answer but wants to hear you say it anyways. He needs it.
“You know I would.” You pull back and hold his face in your hands in that gentle way he loves so much. “But I wanna know you’re sure that’s what you want.”
That deadpan stare of his graces his features. Although something more than that lurks in his expression. Desire. Need. Love.
“Fuck yeah I do.” He nods, breathing hard through his nose. “Want that more than anything in the world.”
He yanks your pants down hard. He tugs your shirt over your head. He nearly rips your bra in half from how fast he wants you out of the damn thing. He jerks his chin towards the mattress.
“On the bed, on your back. Leave your panties on.”
Pope’s hands curl into fists as he watches you crawl onto the bed. He stands there staring for a moment. You look so goddamn good like this, all pretty and spread out. Your pretty blue underwear is stained darker from how wet you’re getting. Those gorgeous tits rise and fall with each breath you take. You’re just as eager as he is. His chest heaves and he can hear his heart thumping in his fucking skull.
He slowly stalks forward and crawls over you. He kneels between your legs, your thighs on either side of his own. His eyes bore into you as he takes off his shirt. You watch his abs tense. You see his biceps flex as he reaches for his belt.
“Tell me you want my baby inside you.” He says gruffly and he doesn’t break eye contact. “Fuckin’ tell me.”
"I want it." You blurt before you can stop yourself. "I want your baby, Andrew, please.”
You look so damn cute as you almost whine out the words. A little pout made its way to your lips. Pride blooms in his chest. Need blooms in his pants.
“That’s my pretty fuckin’ girl.”
He rips off his belt and throws it god knows where. He yanks his zipper down so fast that it makes an awful scraping noise. He stands up only to take off his jeans and boxers. Your swear your pussy flutters at how hard he is. His cock is an angry red, his tip already leaking. When he steps closer and you try to take him in your hands, he slaps your wrist.
“Not a chance.” He kneels by the edge of the bed and tugs you closer. “Only time I’m cumming tonight is inside this pretty pussy.”
His fingers find the elastic of your underwear. He yanks them down your legs, tossing them in the same direction as his belt. Those rough hands slide up the inside of your thighs. His thumbs spread you open. He tilts his head at the sight of your glistening sex.
“So damn ready.” He looks up at you from between your legs. “Gotta play with her anyways though. Gotta make sure she’s ready for me.”
The way he’s almost talking to your pussy instead of you has you blushing. A little giggle escapes you.
“Andrew…” You whine and cover your face.
On a normal day, he’d make you move your hands and make him watch what he’s doing to you. Right now though, all he’s worried about is making you feel good and fucking you full.
Pope drags his fingers over your clit and down to your entrance. He slips a finger into you and watches how you immediately clench around it.
“Easy.” He says softly. “Gotta relax for me, baby.”
He slowly thrusts his finger in and out, over and over until your inner muscles stop squeezing him so tightly. He presses his lips to the inside of your knee, kissing over your skin so nicely. Another finger joins the first. He scissors them, stretching you around them.
“Andrew, honey, please.” You moan, your hands reaching above you to grab the pillows tightly.
He hums against your thigh, his kisses never stopping. He curls those two fingers to gently caress that gummy spot inside you. A third finger joins the mix. He leans down, his breath hot against your pussy. You don’t even have to ask for what’s next.
A pretty mewl rips from you as his tongue finds your clit. He gives it a tentative lick, watching how you react. He hums when the little bundle of nerves twitches against his tongue and your hand finds his hair. His eyes flutter closed. His fingers and mouth work in tandem to give you what you want.
In truth, he needs you to cum first. He’s read the books, listened to you when you talk. He knows how hard it can be for a woman to finish. He also knows that once he’s set on knocking you up, he’s gonna get a little a lot selfish.
“Come on, baby.” He mumbles against your pussy, curling his fingers faster.
His lips seal around your clit. His head bobs as he suckles it hard, completely determined to push you over that edge. He feels you clenching and tugging at his hair, sees your back arch, hears you cry out his name. He groans approvingly as you cream around his digits. Slowly his fingers slip out of you. He doesn’t lick you clean like he usually does though. Not right now. He needs you as wet as he can get you for what he’s got planned.
He crawls over you, his cock bobbing between his legs. Your arms wrap around him, pulling his chest down against your own. He kisses you hard and lets you taste yourself on his lips. He swallows your moans as he reaches down and pushes into you, slowly inching deeper and deeper until he’s buried to the hilt.
He pants hot and heavy. His eyes meet yours again. One hand grasps your cheeks making it impossible for you to look anywhere other than at him. His thrusts are slow and deep at first. He wants to make sure you can feel him as much as he can. His groans turn into barely audible moans, little “yeah’s” and the occasional whisper of your name escaping alongside them. It isn’t until his hips pick up speed that he starts talking. Well, babbling really. Pope’s never this vocal in bed, like ever. You’re enjoying it a whole hell of a lot more than you thought you would.
“Gonna get you so fuckin’ full.” He says through gritted teeth. “Gonna put my baby right here, yeah?”
His free hand presses down on your lower stomach. His cock twitches inside you when he feels himself through your skin. He clenches his jaw. Both hands move this time. He tilts your hips at an angle better for both of you, allowing him to hit your g-spot with each thrust and fuck you deep. Oh so goddamn deep.
His hands stay on your inner thighs, keeping you from closing them. His movements turn hard and fast, punching little moans from your throat with each thrust. He’s got his face buried against your neck, biting and nipping at the skin there, his moans vibrating against it.
“So fuckin’ good.” He lifts his head to kiss your ear. “Pussy so tight for me.”
His fingers trail up your torso. He squeezes your tit, his thumb rolling over your nipple. He grins to himself as you arch into his touch. He nips at your jaw.
“These are gonna get full of milk, y’know.” He breathes out. “All for my baby when they’re born. You’re gonna be a good mama and give them what they need right?”
All you can do is nod. You’re not used to him being so loud and so lewd with his words. It’s overwhelming in the best way. You can feel gut burning white hot. He can feel your thighs shaking. When your breath hitches and you claw at his back, he smiles against the side of your head. His fingers quickly find your clit again, rubbing tight and fast circles against it.
“That’s it, baby, good girl.” He trails his kisses to your lips. “Cum so I can too.”
You cry for him as you cum, nearly squealing his name. “Andrew!”
Only then does he allow himself to break. He stops holding his breath, letting his pelvis become flush with your own, groaning hard as he spills inside you.
“Fuck yes!” He groans loudly.
He makes no move to get up or pull out. His forehead presses to your shoulder as he slowly comes down from his high. When he lifts his head, he rests it right against your own.
“Love you.” He breathes out. “I uh, I didn’t say that the entire time and I’m just now realizing it.”
You giggle and it’s like music to his ears. “It’s okay, honey. I know you do.”
Your fingers gently rub his back, soothing the scratches you’ve no doubt left there. Now he starts to sit up. He rests his weight on his forearms and smiles down at you.
“You really okay with me makin’ you a mama?”
He says the words so softly. You can tell he’s feeling vulnerable. Maybe even a little unsure that you were telling the truth. A nasty habit of his unfortunately, second guessing almost everything he thinks, hears, or says. It’s not his fault, but it’s there nonetheless.
“Of course I am.” You say in that calming tone of yours. “I wouldn’t have let you cum inside me if I wasn’t.”
You both let out a chuckle at that. He leans down to press a kiss to your chest. He nods.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
He hides his face in your neck again. You can feel him smiling.
“I love you, Andrew.” You say it and you mean it.
“Love you too, baby.” He mumbles against your skin.
His hand slowly slips between your bodies to rest on your belly. Hopefully in a few weeks and after a few more tries, you’ll have a baby growing right below where his hand now sits. The thought has him twitching to life inside you again.
