My Body ft Your Lips
andrew "pope" cody x fem!reader
+18 MDNI
word count: ~2k
summary: You're Deran Cody's best friend. And for the entirety of your friendship, you've been in love with his older brother Pope.
You're spending the night at the Cody house after one of their infamous parties. But you can't sleep. Not when the man who's been the star of so many of your dreams is back from prison, only a few rooms away.
Title inspired by the song My Body ft Your Lips by The Beaches.
content: age gap (reader is around Deran's age), AU - mild canon divergence, characters may be ooc, yearing, lover girl reader, unrequited? reader is a lil awkward, reader (and writer) is horny, lowkey perv!reader, lowkey perv!pope cody too, masturbation (f), dry humping, making out, breast fondling, slightly subby!pope, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex (unprotected, panty sniffing, fingering, crying during sex, crying after sex, creampie
a/n: i lost my mind a little writing this. another classic case of something starting out as a drabble and then turning into something much bigger lol. in all seriousness, i love this fic with my whole heart.
AO3
You tip toe out of Deran’s room, closing the door gently behind you.
Deran’s snoring. Again. Normally, it doesn't bother you. But tonight you’re more restless than usual. You know why. He’s back.
Pope’s unexpected return made you feel… unsettled. None of you had expected him to be released from prison so early. You weren’t concerned, like the rest of his family. Pope never scared you, not really. When everyone else saw a disturbed man with violent tendencies, you saw a damaged person who just wanted to be loved.
No, you were unsettled because you thought you had finally gotten over your long standing crush on your best friend’s older brother. Apparently not.
────﹒♡﹒────
You first met Pope when you were 18 and had recently moved to Oceanside. You and Deran had become fast friends, bonding over your love of the ocean. He took his time introducing you to his dysfunctional family, afraid of scaring you off.
Being around the Cody family was… interesting. Craig was kind of an idiot, but chill. Smurf wasn’t outwardly hostile but you could tell she didn’t trust you, always giving you a smile that never reached her eyes. Baz was…well kind of creepy, if you’re being honest.
And then there was Andrew (or Pope as his family called). He didn’t pay you much attention, just giving a simple nod when you were first introduced. He was older, mysterious, and handsome in a ‘rough-around-the-edges’ sort of way. So naturally, you fell in love with him.
Deran and Craig noticed your infatuation with their older brother almost immediately. It’s not like you were subtle about it, you practically had hearts for eyes every time you were around him. They teased you relentlessly for it.
You were always trying (and failing) to get him to like you. Giving him warm, sweet smiles. Trying to engage him in conversation, asking him about his day or what sort of things he liked. Seeing if he wanted to hang out with you and Deran. Each time you were met with the same response: him giving you The Stare before walking off. You were sure that to him, you were just Deran’s annoying friend.
There was only one time you actually tried to “flirt” with him. If you can even call it that.
You and Deran were lounging by the pool, listening to Craig drone on about some bullshit, when Pope walked by. He was shirtless, his beautiful freckled body on display. God… that man was beefy. His arms… mouthwatering. And those pecs… you needed him in ways that were concerning to feminism.
You felt a burst of confidence (or maybe it was pure lust making your decisions) and sat up a little straighter, pushing your breasts out. Trying to look as desirable as possible.
“Hi, Andrew.” You attempted to flutter your lashes and sound sultry but it gave off more of a “out of breath” and “something stuck in your eyes” vibe.
Pope gave a look that can only be described as, “are you concussed?”, before stalking off back into the house.
Well that was…. humiliating. You’re not that repulsive, are you? You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear Craig choke out a laugh.
“…what?” You look between the two brothers, cheeks blushing.
“The fuck was that?” Deran questions, looking at you like you just grew a second head.
“I’m just being friendly.”
“Riiiiiight.” Deran scoffs
“Hiiiiii AnDrEw.” Craig mocked you in a high pitched tone, causing Deran to snort.
“Shut up.” you mutter, curling in on yourself, wishing the earth would swallow you up.
Things changed after that. You were still nice to him, of course, but you stopped trying so hard. You doubt he even noticed. Pope wasn’t into you, so why humiliate yourself? You’d just admire him from afar. Totally fine. You could live with that. Really.
────﹒♡﹒────
You pad your way down the hall, headed towards the living room. Maybe you could crash on the couch? Watch some bad reality TV to lull you to sleep-
You're startled to see Pope sitting in the living room, watching a nature documentary. It stops you in your tracks, a small gasp leaves your lips, causing Pope to turn to you. You give him a tight smile.
“Uh.. hey.” you shift awkwardly, pulling at the bottom of your sleep shirt. Suddenly very aware of how exposed you are. You didn’t think to put on pants and now you’re regretting it, the bottom barely covering your ass.
Pope just stares, glancing down briefly at the bare flesh of your legs.
You rock back and forth on your heels. Not quite sure what to do with yourself around him.
“So uh… is it cool if I sit with you? Deran won’t stop snoring and I’m this close to smothering him”
“Sure” he mumbles, turning his attention back to the TV.
You tip toe over to the couch, placing yourself at the end farthest away from him. You’ve never been more tense, trying to make yourself as small as possible. You try desperately to keep your attention on the TV but can’t help stealing glances at him.
You haven’t seen him in 3 years. You thought that the time away would help you be normal about this man. Guess you’re not that lucky. Did he get… thicker? More beefy? His biceps… Jesus. What you wouldn’t give for him to put you in a headlock and fuck-
“What're you staring at?”
Biting your lip, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded, you realize you were so lost in your fantasy and were straight up ogling him. Fuck.
You try to school your expression, quickly turning back to the TV, finding the daily life of an armadillo the most interesting thing in the world.
“Uh, nothing… sorry.” you clear your throat and fiddle with the hem of your shirt.
Oh god. He’s doing The Stare now. You can feel it. There’s an unmistakable heat to a Pope Cody stare.You’re pretty sure he could burn a hole in the side of your face with how intense it is.
Taking a deep breath, you glance back over at him. You expect a look of annoyance, maybe even disgust. But that’s not how he’s looking at you.
He’s blushing and trying to maintain eye contact, but his gaze keeps going to your lips. To your exposed thighs. There’s a… hunger in his eyes. He’s never looked at you like that before.
You squeeze your thighs together, trying to alleviate that familiar throb between your legs.
Pope notices, becoming tense. He’s licking his lips and flexing his hands against his thighs. It makes you so fucking wet.
“Pope?”
“Yeah?” his voice comes out gravelly.
“I’m glad you’re home. I missed you…”
Pope looks… surprised, like he wasn’t expecting you to say something so sincere.
“... you missed me?”
“Mhmm”
Pope lets out a whine. It's so soft you almost don’t hear it. You drag your eyes down his body, noticing a tent start to form in his jeans. Jesus. This man is going to ruin you.
You turn yourself completely towards him now, reclining against the arm of the couch. You spread your legs open, giving him a peek at your soaked panties.
You ghost your hand down your body, stopping when you reach your core.
You rub with your throbbing clit through the cotton fabric, moaning out softly. Pope can’t look away.
“Do you like watching me touch myself Andrew?”
He nods his head, letting out a strangled groan at the use of his real name, palming his hard cock through his jeans.
You pull your sleep shirt over your tits, putting them on display for him. One hand playing with your peaked nipples, while the other continues its assault on your clit. You moan out his name quietly, just loud enough for him to hear.
You feel yourself getting close, but you need more. You need him. You pull your hand away, causing Pope to let out a whine of protest. You just smile at him.
Sitting up from your position, you crawl across the couch to him. Meeting his firm body, you throw a leg over his lap, straddling him. Dragging your clothed cunt across his aching bulge.
He grips the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his in a bruising kiss. It’s messy and rough, with your tongues battling for dominance. You whine into his mouth, feeling your cunt pulse.
Pulling away, you look deep into his desire filled gaze and bring a hand up to his cheek, caressing it gently.
“Do you want to touch me, Andrew?"
He’s speechless, only able to nod his head and let out a quiet groan.
You pull your shirt off, shivering slightly at the chilled air hitting your now exposed body.
Pope groans and throws his head back against the back of the couch, mesmerized by the sight in front of him.
Your breasts heaving with every breath. Your wanton gaze. The wet spot growing on your panties.
He reaches out and takes your breasts in his hands, kneading them. Pinching your nipples lightly as he goes.
“Mmm- fuck Andrew.” you whine out as you continue to grind yourself along his clothed cock.
Pope brings one of your tits to his mouth, laving his tongue across your hardened bud.
He’s alternating between breasts, suckling and kneading. You throw your head back and bite your lip, trying to contain your moans.
Pope releases his mouth from your nipple with a pop, breathing hard. You halt the grinding of your hips and bring your head forward, looking into his pitch black eyes.
“Can I taste you?” he croaks out.
You nod your head, feeling a gush come from your aching pussy.
Pope stands, picking you up, hands gripping your ass. He gently places you back on the couch, laying you down with your back against the cushions. You spread your legs wide for him.
He’s looking at you like he could eat you whole.
Slotting himself on his knees between your legs, he slowly peels off your soaked panties. Without breaking eye contact, he brings them to his face and inhales deeply. Your eyes widen slightly, taking in the pure debauchery of it.
Stuffing the fabric in the back pocket of his jeans, Pope looks down at your glistening cunt, groaning out at how wet you are.
Settling in between your thighs, he grips each leg tightly and buries his face between your thighs.
You moan out, muffling the sound with your fist. He’s got you spread wide open, dragging his tongue through your folds, before settling on your swollen clit. He licks at it feverishly, causing you to grind against his face.
He’s a man starved. Devouring you. Drinking up every drop of slick that leaks out of your pussy.
“Feels so good Andy.” you mewl as you feel him groan against you.
He redirects his attention back to your clit, wrapping his lips around it, sucking. Hard.
You have to bite your lip to keep from crying out.
You feel him stuff two of his thick fingers into your clenching hole. Thrusting into you, stretching you out. Preparing you for him.
“Fuck Andy...” you whimper out, gripping the back of his head.
You writhe against his hungry mouth, feeling the coil in your belly tighten.
“Fuck- fuck Andy, I’m gonna cum baby.”
He groans against your cunt, curling his fingers up into you, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. Finger fucking you. Making your back arch off the couch.
He pulls his mouth away and looks you in the eyes.
“Cum. Please.” he sounds desperate, like your pleasure is the most important thing in the world to him.
Continuing to abuse that spot deep inside you, he wraps his lips back around your swollen clit, sucking harder than before. Never once breaking eye contact.
You let out a silent scream, your vision going white. You feel yourself gush around his fingers, your body writhing against him. He works you through your orgasm until you come back down to earth.
You’re out of breath, you’re body laying limp against the couch. Pope drinks up the cum leaking from your puffy cunt, ravenous. Like he needs it to live. He finally pulls away when you let out an overstimulated whine.
“Mmm fuck- Andrew, you did so good.” you can’t help what slips out of your mouth next.
“Good boy.”
He looks up from between your legs, a deep red blush crawling up his neck. It's like you unlocked something deep inside him.
Smiling, you pull him up to you, kissing him deeply. Tasting yourself against his tongue, the taste heady. The kiss isn’t like your first, it's more gentle. It’s slow and languid, like he’s trying to make it last.
You can feel him grind his jean clad cock against your bare cunt.
Scratching your nails down his back, you pull away from the kiss and whisper into his ear.
“Do you want to fuck me, Andy?” you breathe out against him, making him shiver slightly.
He sits back on his heels, nodding his head, tears starting to well in his eyes.
“Sit back, baby. Let me take care of you.” you say, moving to sit up.
Pope wastes no time, seating himself back on the couch properly. He pulls down his jeans and underwear, just enough to finally release his aching cock. He’s big. Bigger than you imagined he'd be. And oh boy did you imagine it.
You move to straddle him, wasting no time lining yourself up with his cock. You rub him along your folds before impaling yourself fully, making you gasp.
The moan he lets out when you're fully seated is so pornographic, it almost makes you cum again. You let yourself adjust to his size for only a moment, before beginning to ride him.
You set a slow, powerful pace. Clenching around him with each thrust. You know he won’t last long, with how he’s whimpering. You don’t care if you don’t cum again, you just want to make him feel good. That’s all you’ve ever wanted to do.
Pope’s clenching his hands, keeping them at his sides. You know he’s holding himself back. You want him to let go. To use you.
“Take what you want from me Andy. It’s okay. I won’t break.”
He searches your eyes for any hesitancy, but only finds desire.
He lets out a shaky breath and nods only once before grabbing your hips, so hard you know you’ll have finger shaped bruises when you wake up tomorrow. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your forehead against his.
Pope thrusts up into you fast and hard, setting a brutal pace. Using your body to chase his pleasure. You both let out moans with every thrust. Yours high pitched whines, his carnal groans.
“You’re so good Andrew. So good to me.”
Pope, whether voluntarily or not, starts crying at that. Leaning his forehead against your shoulder, whispering soft “I love yous” and “You’re perfects.”
You feel another orgasm creeping up on you and almost like he can read your mind, Pope slides one of his hands between your bodies, rubbing your clit in tight, fast circles. He brings you to your peak, making you clench hard around his throbbing cock. You bite down on his shoulder, muffling your cries.
“Fu-fuck. I’m so close. Do you- fuck- do you want me to pull out?” he whimpers out
“Inside Andrew. Want your cum inside. Fill me up” you rasp out
He whimpers and uses your body to chase his release.
His thrusts turn erratic and sloppy. Fucking up into you hard. He’s so deep, you almost feel him in your throat.
You’re clinging to each other when he finally comes with a broken moan. Coating your walls white, filling you to brim with his spend.
You sit like that for a moment, both of you trying to catch your breath.
When you finally pull back, Pope caresses your cheek, looking at you like you hung the moon.
“I- thank you.” he breathes out, tears streaming down his face. You’ve never had a man look at you like this. With such reverence. It makes your heart flutter.
“You’re welcome.” you laugh lightly, wiping away stray tears from his cheeks.
You give him a feather light kiss and go to move off of him but he pulls you into his arms, holding you in place. Burying his face in your neck. hugging your sweaty, boneless frame.
“Stay. Please.”
So you sit there, still stuffed full of him, and listen to the sound of his breathing. Stroking his hair. Whispering praise softly to him.
