Description: Pope catches feelings for the one person who’s shown genuine care for him…his prison counselor. After being released he knows he needs to show that love to you in order to make you his.
Warnings: Pope Cody x prison counselor!reader, stalker!pope, obsessive!pope, perverted!pope, pet names (angel, baby) (andy), cursing, OCD thoughts, narcissistic cycle mention, mentions of sm*rf and b*z, smut, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v sex, MDNI 18+
a/n: i tried to research a bit into the narcissistic abuse cycle and rumination, so i hope i did it justice. I AM NOT A THERAPIST, COUNSELOR, OR PSYCHIATRIST!
You had met Pope about 6 months into his 6-year bid. His reputation had preceded him as every guard who came to bring another prisoner to see you had warned you of his seemingly violent tendencies.
Watch out for Pope man, he’s crazy. He’s a freak. Don’t turn your back on him he’ll kill you.
Occasionally he’d even be brought up by other prisoners.
I don’t know Ms. he’s just off. Stay away from him if you can.
It wasn’t unusual to hear these types of comments as almost all of the men that were kept behind these prison walls were violent in some capacity. You tried to shake the comments off knowing that if he did become a client, you couldn’t show any biases.
Plus to these men, fear was something they could sniff out, like a bloodhound searching for a dead body. You knew if they could smell fear dripping off of you you were better off dead.
When you got to work that day, you had a manila folder on your desk with Pope’s name and information. When you had asked the warden why he was becoming a client of yours, he barked out in a gruff manner “He was mandated by a judge” before returning to whatever unimportant matter he was invested in.
2:15 on every Tuesday and Thursday became you and Pope’s designated time. So that next Tuesday, Pope was escorted to your office, shackled at his hands, waist, and feet. You tried hard to not flinch at his unwavering stare and rigid posture as he walked outside your window.
You stood from your chair, smoothing any wrinkles that formed on your pants. You opened the door, greeting both the guard and Pope before moving back to let them into your office.
The officer nudged Pope forward, showing him into a seat, shackling him to the hooks underneath your desk. You twitched your brow at the rough treatment, but decided not to say anything to the guard.
You walked to sit behind your desk ready to start your session when you noticed the guard still standing behind the largely built man in front of you.
Again you quirked your brow, “Is there anything else?” you said, confused.
“It’s protocol to stay in the room. Especially for an animal like him.”
Your face shriveled in discontent at the choice of words, you looked at Pope who sat rigid, his body refusing to make eye contact with you, “He is a client and all clients get confidentiality for any and all things that are said in here. He is also a human who deserves to be treated as such, Officer Lyncook.”
The officer squinted his eyes in disdain then slowly walked out of the room, closing the door and staring menacingly through the window.
You turned your attention towards Pope taking a deep breath before introducing yourself.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I figure we can spend most of the time of our session introducing and getting to know each other.” You smiled expectantly.
Pope’s eyes still faced his lap, and he merely grunted at your words.
Feeling the unsettling energy he was emitting, you chose to speak mostly about yourself and what you focus on during the session.
“I’ve been a counselor for about 5 years, the last 2, I have been a counselor in the prison. I work with a lot of clients so I’ve heard just about everything.” You laugh to yourself. “Um…the point of our sessions will be to work through some of the things that are weighing us down. That could be anything…stresses, mental illness, substance abuse…family.”
Pope’s head and eyes rise to meet yours then flicker back to the floor. Clearly you had touched a nerve with the last example. That was something you would store for later.
“My purpose is to help establish and plant good healthy habits so when you’re out of this dark place you release some of those negative habits and people and move forward. The biggest hope and wish from this is to not come back, I think both of us can agree on that.”
Silence filled the room , all you could hear was his deep shallow breaths and the occasional sharp yell of a prisoner from the echoey hallway.
“Don’t call me that…please” he interrupted.
“I’m sorry…what would you like to be called?”
He takes a beat looking around the room nervously then responds, “Andrew”.
“Okay…Well, Andrew is there anything you’d like to ask or share?”
“How long do I have to keep coming here?”
“According to the judge and warden, we’ll continue sessions until the end of your sentence. I know it seems long but I promise the more we talk and work together it’ll go by fast.”
Andrew nodded lowly taking in that he would be forced to sit in his discomfort longer than he had hoped.
Andrew hadn’t developed feelings for you quickly. It was something that festered inside him despite how much he tried to fight it.
His upbringing had cemented the distrust of any counselor or therapist. And so after several sessions despite everything in his body screaming no he had finally let you in.
“My mom visited me on Saturday.”
You cocked your head in shock, in the short two weeks of seeing Andrew, he had never mentioned anything regarding his family. Well, at least not his mom. He had mentioned his love of his niece, Lena, and his relationship with his three brothers Baz, Craig, and Deran.
He mostly focused on the former and her mother, Cath.
But the one person he refrained from going much further on his relationship was his mother, Janine, or Smurf.
“She mainly talked about my brothers and her…”Pope looked up at you hesitantly. “Businesses”
“Hmm…did she ask about you at all?”
Andrew shook his head, “Nah, she never asks about how it’s going.”
“Does she visit you or call often?” Andrew shook his head again. “No letters?” you pouted. Andrew didn’t respond but the answer was written on his face.
“Can I ask how it makes you feel that she doesn’t ask about you?”
He shrugged lightly, “I’m used to it. She always wants to talk about herself or Baz. She only asks about me when she wants something.”
Instantly alarms start going off in your head. You immediately recognize the narcissistic tendencies from how Andrew describes his mother. You’re more used to the men sitting in the chair presenting those traits, so it’s shocking to see the ‘big bad scary man’ in front of you to be affected (as much as he tried to shield it) by his mother's actions.
“I noticed you said she mainly talks about Baz aside from herself, can I ask why?”
“Baz has always been her golden boy. Does whatever she asks without asking why. She says jump, he says how high. The day I started to question things is the day I stopped being her ‘baby’.”
“Her love and appreciation for you shouldn’t be dependent on your willingness to devote yourself to her.”
Andrew had never had anyone tell him that he deserved love without anything in return. His breathing starts to pick up lightly, he’s trying to hold in the dam that carries the weight of his emotions.
He refuses to let anyone see that side, even himself.
“Are we almost done here? I want to go back to my cell,” he says with hostility.
“Unfortunately, you can’t leave, but if you are feeling uncomfortable we can end this conversation. I won’t force you to talk about anything you don’t want to.”
Andrew’s hand fidgeted in his lap, tapping his fingers on his leg in a sequence of threes trying to settle his nerves. “Thank you.”
You gave a soft smile, “Of course. And I hope you know that if there is anything you want to tell me, I won’t share it with anyone else. What we say here will stay in these four walls.”
The rest of the session went the same as before where you had asked Andrew questions and he had vaguely answered them, not giving you too much to interpret.
3:00 hit the clock quickly. The guard outside the door tapped a few times before unlocking the door, signaling the end of their session. The guard unchained Andrew from your desk and walked him back to his cell.
On the way back, Andrew had a lot of things racing through his mind. He had questions about why you were so nice, why you wanted to help him, but most of all why did you make his heart flutter in his chest?
He wasn’t oblivious to the feeling of a crush, he had felt it not long ago for Cath. Seeing her smile at him, talk to him without fear, or smile at the flowers he left for her. But all of those things she did were quiet gestures.
Your gestures were loud and purely selfless. You cared for him and his comfort without any ill intent. Something he wasn’t used to for a very long time.
Even though he enjoyed that feeling, his mind wouldn’t let it last. His mind reminded him of all the dark and twisted shit he’s done and proved to himself that he wasn’t worth comfort or love or any other happy emotion.
While his mind reminded him of his past, you were intent on focusing on his future.
“Today, I wanted to talk, or more so ask about something I’ve noticed,” you asked hesitantly.
Now a year into your sessions, Andrew had become slightly more trusting and was even open to learning some skills to use with his family and outside of prison.
“I’ve noticed you have a slight compulsive thought. Specifically, you tend to see a fracture in a relationship as a distinct fault within yourself.”
Andrew was rubbing his hands, nodding his head, processing what you were saying.
“With these compulsive thoughts, I’ve noticed you tend to get ‘stuck in’ for days on end and it has a direct correlation to your mood, self-esteem, and interaction with others. Am I okay to continue?”
“Yes,” he said with minor discomfort.
He wanted to oppose but how could he, you were the only one besides Julia who saw past his tough bravado and was willing to help him.
“I wanted to use Cath for an example.” Andrew’s face tightens at your mention of his brother's wife. “You mentioned that you had sent her a letter and she had blocked you from sending anything. Why do you think she chose to do that?”
“Clearly she’s scared of me. I mean I saw the way she looked at me before I came here.” his eyes flitted back and forth between his lap and your eyes as he spoke.
“Let’s change our thinking on this one. What else could she be scared of? What does she have to lose?”
“She could lose Lena, she could lose…I don’t know…Baz.”
“What does Baz provide for her?”
“I mean he provides a house, money, and I guess family. Her parents are gone so she doesn’t have anyone else.”
“It sounds like Cath has a lot to lose. She could lose almost her whole life. To me, it seems deeper than just that she’s scared of you. Plus have you ever been violent with her or intimidated her?”
Andrew’s eyes locked onto yours giving finality and honesty to his answer, “I would never hurt her. I would never hurt you either.”
Why did he mention you? Have you been showing signs of fear?, you thought to yourself.
“Why did you say that you’d never hurt me? Do you think I’m afraid of you?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed still puzzled by his thought process.
“Everyone is. I know what everyone says about me, I’m not stupid.”
“Of course you’re not stupid. Yes, people have told me stories about you” Andrew’s jaw clenches; his body tightens he’s visibly uncomfortable with the way the others have portrayed him. He knew this would be the catalyst between you and him and begin the cycle he was used to once again. Someone tries to get close to him, they hear the awful shit he’s done, and slowly but surely they break any and all ties that they have to him, and see his mere existence as a threat. “But I’m not concerned by any of them. I wanted to judge your character on my own and I’ve found that you are calm, kind, respectful, and have only inched towards violence when you feel backed into a corner, which we are still working on.”
Something within the air shifted. Andrew was still stoic and brave-faced, but it was like he now had an unreadable look behind his eyes.
The end of the session was near only 5 minutes remained. Andrew didn’t say much, but as he was leaving he whispered something that was almost impossible to hear.
When Andrew was back inside his cell is when he knew. You were the only person who cared for him, who knew who he really was. It instantly sparked an interest and want for you.
He would be lying if he said he didn't think you were gorgeous. He knew he was attracted to you from the start, but he's not like most men where attraction leads to the entire want for more. For Andrew, he needed to feel a deep connection. He thought he had felt that with Cath, but after today the only person he could think of was you.
He managed to find a connection, outside of Smurf to dig up information about you.
He found that you grew up in Nevada, attended a college nearby, and moved to Sacramento when you accepted your position at Folsom.
He no longer cared whether Cath, Smurf, or any other person in his life because he just wanted to be near you.
He figured once he was out he’d either move to Sacramento or he’d move you to Oceanside. Either way, he’d make sure to watch you closely before doing either, so he could know even more about how to impress you and make you his.
Years had passed, and finally Andrew was up for parole. He was eager but scared that it wouldn’t be granted.
“You’ve got this…Think of all the things you’ve learned. I mean you’ve found some skills for your OCD, you’ve found some strategies on dealing with Smurf. You’ve come such a long way! Just be honest and whatever they choose we’ll handle it.”
Andrew’s hopes weren’t too high, he was prepared for the disappointment. All he could focus on was how you centered him no matter what.
Whatever they choose we’ll handle it. Like you were placing him in your future. Even on the outside.
So, when they granted him his early release, Andrew felt like he had a new lease on life. He was not only excited to be free but he was ecstatic to start a new chapter with you.
That ended up being the last conversation you had with Andrew but little did you know, he planned on having much more very soon.
It started with letters and a single white rose at your doorstep. Your doorbell was rung and when you opened it, you found no one, but you did find the note and the white rose.
You skimmed the letter and it had described how gorgeous and passionate you were and how this person couldn’t wait for your time together.
You tried to look to see who may have left this strange not but no one was in sight.
Suddenly, the rose and note became a daily occurrence. It should have scared you more, but never in any part of the letter did the person express any want to harm you for their feelings. In fact, it seemed the opposite, as if your mere existence was keeping them afloat.
You couldn’t explain why, but you didn’t call the police on them. Even if you could, what would you say? Each one of their notes felt so personal. It was almost familiar, like you knew them.
Occasionally, you’d get a client who would seek out your session outside of prison. You’d get a call from their parole officer and you’d try to help them find another counselor who could help them continue their practice.
It was very rare for you to accept any clients outside of prison since your caseload was so high, but when you got the call that Andrew Cody was seeking services, you were more than surprised.
The man who hardly spoke to you wanted to continue? Of course he had made some progress but it seemed as if he only made it so he could get out of prison.
Regardless, you accepted and agreed to meet with Andrew on Saturday afternoon at a cafe. You chose to make the drive down to Oceanside, so you could keep professional boundaries and he didn’t know where to find you, but little did you know he already knew everything about you.
When Saturday arrived, you woke up early got ready for the day, and made the long drive to Oceanside. You arrived at the café finding Andrew already seated at a booth towards the back of the building, near the large window facing the ocean. His eyes locked onto yours when he sensed your movement.
"Hi Andrew" you greeted him with a soft welcoming smile. Rather than the typical stiffening of his body during your sessions, it almost seemed as if his body eased.
Andrew felt weak hearing your voice, granted it had only been two weeks since you last spoke, but it felt like a lifetime to him. You were like a saving grace for Andrew, something that kept him going when his mind or the guards had begun their torture.
"Can I ask why you wanted to meet with me? John didn't say much."
He could have told the full truth. He could have said that he felt that he was dying now that he couldn't see you anymore, but he was too afraid to see your reaction, so he chose to share the partial truth. "She's been drugging my food," he grunted.
You didn't need to ask who you knew he meant Smurf. “You know why she’d do that right? Do you remember what we talked about?"
Of course he had. He remembered every little thing you said.
He nodded stiffly, took a deep breath, and recited the words that he committed to memory. "She needs control over me to ensure I stay hers. She doesn't see me as her son but as a tool, a weapon that she can use at her mercy." He looks up to your eyes once more, “I just don't think I can do it much longer I'm sick of the lying, the pushing me away just to pull me back in."
"It's her cycle. Narcissists have their cycle and it will just continue until you remove yourself from it, from her." You reached out hesitantly to Andrew's tightened fist that rested on the table. You unfurled it and placed your palm inside of his hand. Andrew's breath hitched feeling your touch for the first time. It took everything within him to not rub his thumb soothingly over your knuckles.
You squeezed his hand encouragingly and said, "I know it's hard to think of a life without your brothers, without Smurf, but I think you’d be happier, you might have a shot at a normal life." You check your watch noticing the time is nearing the end of your session. "If you want out, I'm here...always."
Andrew's heart clenched, he felt that this was the sign he needed to finally pack up his old life in Oceanside and begin his new life with you. As you went to pull your hand away from his grasp and gather your things to leave, he held onto your hand gently not letting you pull away.
"Andrew?" you ask with confusion. Your voice held no fear, just genuine confusion. This was the man who self-admittedly hated physical touch, reminded him of the 'games' Smurf would play. So why is he accepting-no-begging for more of your touch?
His eyes flitted between the connection of your hands and your eyes, then finally stopped to stare at his lap. He pulled his hand away from your hand and into his lap. His hand felt cold at the loss of warmth. “I’m sorry,” he said apprehensively.
“It’s okay” you eased dipping your eyes to meet his and giving a kind smile. “I do have to go, but if you want to set up another session just let John know. He’ll call me and find a day for you. Okay?”
He nodded in understanding. You stood up gathered your things, and gave a polite wave goodbye before leaving the cafe and making your way back towards your home.
Andrew stayed in his seat and watched you the whole way. Even after you had left, he had stayed and filed every moment of your session with him in his brain.
He began thinking of how he would begin to remove himself from Smurf’s grasp without her or any of his brothers knowing where he went to and what was the motivation behind leaving.
That night he got his plans set. He had one more month of his parole and after that, he wouldn’t be required to answer questions to John about what he was doing and where he was going, he would officially leave his old life.
Sessions with Pope continued for the next month until suddenly after the last session he wasn’t heard from again. When you asked John, he said that Andrew had finished parole and didn’t think he needed to continue his sessions with you.
It was slightly upsetting anytime a client no longer needed sessions, especially when you knew there was still work that needed to be done. With Andrew, it was even more distressing.
Somewhere within the time of being his counselor, you had developed feelings for him. If you were honest, describing how you felt as feelings felt too juvenile, as it didn’t quite capture your true emotions. Somewhere in between right before his release and now, the line started to fray.
You tried desperately to contain it, hoping to keep those professional boundaries you tried so hard to build up, but it felt the more you both spoke with each other the more those walls seemed to crumble. So when you had the chance to see him in the free world, happy, and uncontained; it felt like you had no choice.
With you no longer meeting with him every Saturday, your mind started to race and wonder what pains he may be experiencing
However, eventually, you began to worry less about him and more about the secret admirer who seemed to amp up his infatuation with you.
The love letters that he left on your doorstep soon turned into someone, always conveniently walking a few steps behind. You started to receive phone calls with no voice at the end, only a soft breath breathing through the receiver.
The last straw was items within your house moving and going missing. At first, it would be something simple like the pillows on your couch being straightened, the dishes in your sink being cleaned, or even your laundry being washed and folded. This turned into your underwear that was in your hamper disappearing.
You started to piece all of those things together and realize who was behind the sudden changes in your life.
Andrew had done extensive tracking of your schedule. You typically left your house around 8:15, so he would break in around 8:30, giving extra time in case you'd turn around and come back home. One time he was almost caught when you left your work badge on your kitchen counter.
Andrew had begun making his way into your home while you were at work. He enjoyed seeing and learning a different side of you that He hadn't seen before. In your sessions, you rarely shared anything about yourself, especially anything personal. But now, standing here in your living room, he's inspecting the photos you have hung on the walls (he was very pleased to not see a man in your life, though Andrew would have made sure that that problem was eliminated), he feels so happy to see your head thrown back in laughter and childhood photos.
He regretted to find out that you were much less tidy than he would have liked, but he figured that he would happily handle any and all chores around the house from now on.
Today, he arrived a little later than normal, so he didn't see you leave but thankfully didn't notice your car on the street or in your driveway. He made his way in through your back door, heading into the living room to tidy up, when he went to the kitchen, he was happy to find no messes on the counters and no dishes inhabiting the sink, so he made his way into his favorite part of your house, your bedroom.
He didn't even make it past the threshold of your bedroom before he noticed you sitting calmly on the edge of your fluffy purple bedsheets. He felt the blood drain from his face. He was caught.
"Hello," you said while giving a wave with a wiggle of your fingers. "Come sit", you motion to him and pat the spot next to you.
Andrew wordlessly sits beside you, but refuses to make eye contact, too afraid of what he may see. You take your hand and hook a finger under his jaw to make him look at you. His eyes are misty and afraid, you need to choose your next words carefully to make sure he wouldn't shut down or worse, leave.
“Do you wanna tell me why you're in my house? I promise I'm not mad."
He took a few deep breaths, gathering words and his emotions to respond. "I'm in love with you". This was the first time he was admitting this truth even to himself. Whenever he was alone in his hotel room and fisted his cock raw while smelling your panties, he had always written it off as intense feelings, obsession, or perversion. Now that he was in the moment he recognized it for what it was. Love. He knew his version of love was askew and a little fucked but he didn't care, he'd do anything to prove his love for you.
You knew he was capable of love, you saw it in the way that he cared for his brothers, Julia, even Smurf until the end. You were just shocked that you were on the receiving end of his love.
"Why… why do you think you love me?" Your entire body was turned to face him and give your full attention.
"No, not think. I know I'm in love with you. You're the only one who cares about me, truly cares. You want me happy for me not for what you'll gain or what I'll give you. No one has loved me past all of the dark and twisted shit I've done. If you can't love me then I have no purpose.”
You closed your eyes and shook your head softly, “No, Andrew you do have purpose. You're worth so much with or without me.” Andrew’s eyes started to well at the anticipation of your rejection. He pushed himself up to leave but was stopped by your soft hands pulling his hand, encouraging him to sit back down. "But I do love you a lot." You smiled looking up to meet his eyes.
He turned his head at your words. His once tightened pursed lips had now parted, jaw slack in shock. “Wh-What? You do?”. Andrew had always assumed that his feelings were one-sided, thinking any relationship between the two of you would be forced. He’d have to kidnap you, isolate you from the world and you’d eventually develop feelings for him due to Stockholm Syndrome.
“Of course! You are such a generous person and you love people deeply no matter who they are or what they’ve done. Those qualities made me want more with you.”
The mix of feeling the touch of your hand and the confirmation of your feelings towards him made him feel dizzy. Too dizzy for him to reply until you say his name with concern, “Andrew?”
“Can I kiss you?” he rushes out.
You barely have time to nod before he surges forward and presses a hard and impassioned kiss to your lips. His hands have now left yours and are cradling your cheeks.
A light gasp escapes you as your lips meet, Andrew takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. The feel of his tongue exploring your mouth makes your body melt into him.
You pull away for a breath, Andrew grumbles in protest. You chuckle breathily, “Wow". Andrew's hands still reside on your cheeks but his thumb is toying with your bottom lip as he speaks in a kiss-drunk tone, “You have no idea how long I've thought about that."
Your mouth parts slightly, enough for him to slide his thumb inside. You lick and suckle on his thumb, a low moan leaves his mouth. The feeling of you sucking on his thumb makes him picture the way you'd suck on his dick.
You kneeling on the floor, his meaty hand fisting your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Your warm mouth enveloping his thick cock. Even just imagining you swallowing his seed made his dick swell more.
You reach up and grab his hand lightly, pulling his thumb away from your mouth and rest in his lap to ask, "You have? Tell me what you've been thinking about?''
A hint of red brushed over his freckled cheeks at having to voice his lustful thoughts to the very person he imagined committing these filthy acts with.
He nervously cleared his throat then said, "I always pictured you sitting on my face, licking into you. I pictured you taking my dick down your throat." He paused but it was evident he had more inside of his head.
"What is it, Andrew? What else did you think of?"
He relents, ignoring every voice in his head. Ignoring the memories of Smurf trying to control any sexual interaction he's had, any memory of Baz making him feel as if he was inadequate or off-putting.
"When I was in my cell…I would dream about fucking you on your desk. Letting you ride me with my hands still cuffed to your desk, not letting me touch you.”
“I want you to touch me.” You grab his hands again and guide them to your body.
Noticing his apprehension, you remove yourself from your bed and plant yourself in his lap facing chest to chest. You grab his hands and place them on your hips. At first his hands are stiff and unmoving, you guide them to squeeze intently at the fat of your hips and ass. With feeling you give permission, and he begins to squeeze on his and rut your clothed core into his lap.
You both grab at the feel of each other on your most sensitive areas. Your faces are merely inches apart, panting hot breaths on open mouths. You lean forward and pull him into a deep kiss, the mint from his toothpaste still lingers on his tongue.
Without breaking the kiss, you pull both of you off to pull off his dark clothes. The clothes that accurately represent the outward projection of Pope, but not the real Andrew that you’ve come to know and love. You see it now that his asking you to call him his birth given name was a way to open a piece of himself to you, without putting all his cards on the table.
He begins to shed your clothes, hands wandering to explore every inch of your body that he had so desperately craved to touch. He felt the buttery softness of your skin, the weight of your breasts, tweaking the peaks of your nipples, squeezing the pudge of your belly. The both of you stood face to face completely naked, drinking in the sight of each other in this moment.
Andrew had dreamt of this for three long years, he almost felt be was back inside of his cell dreaming about the angel that cared for him.
You grabbed Andrew’s hand as you lay on your bed, you guided him to kneel over you. “Andrew…I want you to show me how much you love me and let me show you how much I love you.” He nodded, although the only thing he could care about was showing his love to you. He felt your love, now he wanted you to feel his.
He dipped down, bringing his head to your core, he peered up at you to ensure that it was okay to continue. At seeing your head nod fervently and caress his cheek, he began to press feather-light kisses down your thigh trailing towards your wet folds. Before reaching it he lifted his head again and gave the same attention to the other thigh.
His kisses end at the valley of your thighs before he slowly gives kitten licks to your weeping hole, he moans in delight at your taste. "Angel, you taste so fuckin sweet, oh my god." he continues and splays his tongue flat against your entrance and licks a slow stripe from your entrance to the top of your clit. You gasp deeply and clench the bed sheets beside you. Andrew sees the pleasure written on your face, your pussy too, so he guides your hands to his hair and lets you grip his auburn locks instead.
With the feel of your hands in his hair nudging him closer to your puffy lips, he picks up his pace losing himself in you. Your hips lift from the bed to rut your face into him, your moans increase. "Andrew it feels so good! Don't stop!" his lift and see your head thrown back with your mouth wide open. His nose nudges your clit and his tongue licks into you with more intensity than before to bring you to your peak.
“God Andrew, I’m so fuck- m’so close!”
“Cum on my face angel” he whispers.
You rock your hips into his face even more, letting yourself fuck his face. With the last final nudge of his nose, your thighs clamp around his head and your release streams onto the lower half of his face. Andrew keeps licking until you finally come down from your high.
He lays one last kiss to your clit before peppering kisses up your body until he reaches your neck. Between pants you say, “Thank you Andrew…do you want to keep going?”. His face is still tucked into where your shoulder and neck meet. “Can you fuck me Andrew? Can we show each other how deep our love is?”
He pulls his head away from your neck to look at you, “Yes angel. Please I need it so bad.”
You bite your lip as reach down to grab onto his veiny length, he shuddered at the feel. He grasped his cock and helped you collect your slick on him to help make his first thrust easier.
He pushed in slowly stretching you out deeply, you both released a sigh. His initial thrusts were slow and soft too afraid of hurting you. But you knew your Andy, he’d never do anything to hurt you.
He stopped, worried that the contact was unwanted, “I’m sorry, we can stop!”
“No I don’t want to stop! I just want you to enjoy this…I know you’re scared of hurting me but I promise I’m okay. I want you to fuck me hard I promise.” You look deep within his eyes to prove you were honest.
He nods, “Okay”. The slap of his hips begins again but with a much more impassioned energy. His face tucks back into your neck, the tip of his pink tongue licking any part he can reach.
“Yes Andy, it’s good… make me feel so good.” you moan out.
His heavy balls create a thunderous clap against your ass on each thrust. Your already worn body is reaching closer and closer to your orgasm. After spending three years behind bars, without any release, you knew the same could be said for him.
“Angel you feel so fucking good baby. I’m gonna cum”
“I’m gonna cum too Andy…wanna cum together”
Andrew uses the rest of his strength to piston in and out of your pussy at an unbelievable pace. You wrap your legs around him pulling him deeper into you as you both finally tip over the edge.
“Shiiiit Andrew I’m cumming”, you cry out.
“Tell me you love me I need to hear it” he whines. He reaches down and rubs your clit bringing you closer.
“I love you Andy…so much! I love you so fucking much.”
Andrew’s pace stutters before giving one last push of his hips, groaning loudly into your ear. “I love you too angel!”
His warm seed pulsed into your womb. You had never felt so full. Andrew came down from his high but kept himself pressed deep inside of you.
You pulled his head away from your shoulder and gave him a peck to his plush lips. Tears were welling up in his eyes, this moment was worth so much more to him. This moment was trust, love, and acceptance. Something that wasn’t transactional.
You wiped away at his misty eyes, wrapped your arms around his neck, and pulled his body to yours.
“…yea I’m okay. m’just happy”, You can feel the slight pull of his smile on your neck.
“Can I ask…how did you know it was me? How did you know I was following you?” he asks.
“There’s only one person I know that would tidy my house and do my laundry for me.” You laugh. This causes him to snicker as well.
“Yea…I guess that’s true.”
You rub at the nape of his neck, playing with the sweaty hairs that are splayed against it. “I meant what I said. I do love you and I want no one else but you. You’re it for me”
Andrew picks his head up again, “I know…you’re the only person for me too. I only want you.”
The rest of the day was filled with quiet reassurances from both of you. Andrew continued to “show his love” for you multiple times for the rest of the day. When night came, you fell asleep to his heartbeat. Your legs tangled under the blanket. Andrew gazed at your calm face and peace settled deep into his bones.
His once cracked and fractured heart was now plump and full of love. The feeling pumping within him was strong and something he had craved for a long time, and now it was finally his.
a/n: omg i’ve had this one cooking for so long! thank you to @mushy420 for the inspo (and for being patient)!! this was so much fun to write 🤓!! i really hope you enjoy, feel free to comment, like or reblog if you did! if you have a prompt feel free to inbox me or send me an ask :) 🐛💗
