We randomly spotted and interviewed Animal Kingdom star Shawn Hatosy and he’s every bit the grounded legend you’d hope for. When we asked how he’s aged like fine wine, he gave it to us straight: tennis, raising 3 kids, and video games. He’s a real one! x
Skinny dipping with Pope late at night which leads to him fucking you with his hand over your mouth because he doesn’t want anyone to catch you guys
hey long time no see! so i got carried away with this shocker but i felt compelled to write something for our sweet andrew and this was just sitting in my inbox so… nothing profound or poetic just a smutty drabble about andrew cody fucking you in the pool in his backyard!
it was late—really late— and a night of celebrating at the cody household somehow ended with you wading into the pool fully clothed with pope watching closely just a few feet away.
the two of you had stayed in the backyard long after everyone else retired inside for the evening. your rush of euphoria from the handful of drinks you’d downed earlier in the night had calmed to a steady stream of contentment as you tried to beg your boyfriend to go for a late night swim.
“c’mon andrew it’ll be fun.”
he’d denied your invitation when you first stood from your seat. you walked slowly toward the pool with his eyes following each and every stride.
“it’s late.” the poor excuse fell from his lips in a hushed rasp as he watched you dip a foot into the water— your bare feet standing on the first step.
“it feels nice.” you hum, taking another step down, the water hitting your calves.
you were fully dressed, ready to dunk into the water in your t-shirt and shorts until you saw the way pope was watching you.
his stare was intense. raking down your body as if he was sharing your train of thought— wondering if you would shed your clothing before going in any deeper.
a soft smile reached your lips as you stepped down further, water now pooling at your waist.
“you sure you don’t wanna join me?”
you glanced at andrew; his back straight, shoulders square, and legs parted wide as he sat completely still, just observing you.
as the question left your lips you reached for the waist band of your shorts tugging them down underneath the water and bringing them back up to the surface only to toss them to the side of the pool. the material flopped onto the concrete heavy and wet, and it was impossible to miss andrew’s gaze following the sound.
before he could say a word, your hands found their way under the water again, yanking your underwear from your body and throwing them with nearly perfect precision as they landed right next to your discarded shorts.
the second he saw your panties joining the pile of soaked clothing beside the pool, an involuntary smirk appeared on his face.
“your loss big guy.” you take the last step into the pool, your t-shirt almost completely soaked as you struggle to pull it up over your head.
the wet thud of another piece of clothing getting thrown onto the concrete is pope’s last straw. he finally raises from his chair— slow and steady.
it takes him a few steps to kneel down beside the dimly lit pool. his eyes try their best to search underneath the dark ripples of salt water, but he can hardly make out the silhouette of your naked body.
you swim up to the edge, meeting him with your forearms resting against the concrete, your face inches away from his. he keeps his eyes trained on yours, only averting them slightly to watch as water droplets roll down the valley of your chest, only stopping once they hit your bra. the last piece of clothing left on your body clings to your flesh in a way that makes it nearly impossible for him not to jump in right then and there just to rip it off.
“you win.” his statement is simple as he stares down at you in the water, his serious tone contradicts the smile fighting at his lips.
he stands up straight, pulling his shirt off in a quick desperate movement, followed by his hands fidgeting with the button on his jeans.
clad in only his underwear he lowers himself into the water until his body is almost flush with yours.
“i think these need to come off” your hands are at the waistband of his underwear the second he’s close enough for you to reach them.
“not a chance.” his voice is stern as his fingers clasp over yours, locking them into place and keeping you from removing his last piece of clothing.
your hands stay in their place, head cocked to the side as your mouth forms a smug grin.
“what? like you’ve never skinny dipped in this pool before?” your words come out in a teasing whisper, but then andrew turns away slightly at your questioning, avoiding eye contact for the first time all night.
“really? not even as a teenager?”
you don’t know why you’re surprised. you knew andrew well, better than most people. he’s not like his brothers. he’s private— purposeful.
he was never one for public sex. it was rare to catch him in the mood for a quick, reckless fuck; but right now, there was a thick tension of need threatening to evaporate the water between your bodies, and you could feel his hand gripping harder over yours in anticipation.
“so then i’m guessing you’ve never fucked anyone in this pool either?” your voice falls to a low whisper as he loosens his hold just enough to let you run your fingertips along the waistband of his underwear.
“i don’t want anyone to see us.” to see you— that’s what he means as he growls the words out through a heavy breath.
he was irrationally protective of you. the thought of one of his brothers coming outside to see your naked body wrapped around his cock had andrew’s jaw tensing. if someone so much as looked at you in such a vulnerable position-
“everyone’s asleep...” the soft tone of your voice brought his heart rate back down, and the soothing touch of your fingertips against his skin reminded him to breathe.
“it’s dark.” another reminder that it was just the two of you, left your lips as he finally released his hold on your hand allowing you to slip his underwear down his legs beneath the water.
in a fit of pure instinct, andrew’s hands were at your bra, removing it from your body in seconds, palms immediately coming into contact with the bare skin of your chest.
“we’ll be quiet.” you murmured against his lips as he closed the space between you, his mouth finding yours.
between a few minutes of kissing down wet skin and hungry touches underneath the warm water, andrew managed to have your back against the pool wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his dick completely buried into you.
he held you close as the water sloshed around your bodies with each thrust. one of his hands held firm at your back, acting as a shield from the friction of the concrete wall as it scratched against his knuckles instead of your skin.
the rhythm of his hips rutting into yours, sliding so easily into you over and over again, had sighs of relief tumbling from your mouth.
the sighs turned into whimpers, which turned into whines, which then grew into moans until— silence— andrew’s hand was suddenly muffling the sounds of pleasure flowing from your lips.
his grip was firm but careful as he kept you as quiet as possible with his hand covering your mouth. meanwhile he plunged his cock deeper into you underneath the weightless draw of the water, making it increasingly difficult to keep moans from escaping your throat.
“gotta stay quiet.” his command was broken by quiet groans of his own as he stuttered through pleasure.
“no one is allowed to see you like this, just me. got it?” possessive.
the dominant whisper slips past his lips, and you nod. a pathetic whine falls against the palm of his hand.
“atta girl.”
an arrogant tone lingers in his voice as he murmurs into your neck, his lips pressing against your shoulder. his hand is still clasped over your mouth as he fucks you senseless against the wall of the pool, making sure no one catches you, but obsessed with every second of the impulsive desire coursing through his veins.
how about sitting on abbot's face and tugging on those gray curls as you ride his tongue 👉👈
Oh hehehehehehehehe / tw: face riding need I say more?
“I said sit.”
“And I said you’ll suffocate—“
“Then I’d rather suffocate between your thighs than on my words telling you to fucking sit. on. my. fucking face, woman.”
“You’re insufferable–“You lower your weight on his weight completely, holding on to the headboard with both hands while his hands fly to your thighs, pressing you down even more, “There, happy now?”
You don’t get a response, but the hum he lets out vibrates through your folds and up to your brain, making you tremble in pleasure as he feasts on you.
There is no time to worry if he is getting smothered under you, and Jack doesn’t seem to care either, he is diving inside you with an enthusiasm you have never seen a man possess and it’s making you dizzy.
He is making you feel so good to the point you nearly trip over and brace yourself with one hand on the wall and the other going to his head, scratching his scalp and tugging on the roots of his gray curls he encourages you to roll your hips.
You would find him looking at you with glimmering eyes if you weren’t so lost in your orgasm and the bliss his mouth and nose are providing for you.
summary: you tell andrew you want to start a new life with him— away from the chaos of his family, and he agrees with another future promise on his mind
content: nsfw, 18+ mdni, a sprinkle of angst & a dash of fluff but almost entirely smut, pope with a nasty breeding kink, lots of pregnancy talk, reader has hair but no explicit description of it’s appearance, gut wrenching intimacy, fingering, cum play, we’re doing cowgirl AND mating press buckle up baby!
word count: 3.4k
author’s note: hi hello, i am HEAVY on my pope cody shit rn, and i know we’re all longing to give that man a baby, so i thought i'd take one for the team and write this little fic. let’s just imagine this is some kind of alternate universe where pope gets a happy ending, and a family of his own.
Wet curls gather at your fingertips, as Andrew’s head burrows deeper into your chest. Your hand passes through his hair, absentmindedly following the pattern of his curls, as he concentrates on the sequence of your steady breath underneath his cheek.
“Long night?” A soft whisper leaves your lips as you continue threading your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.
He doesn’t respond, just subtly nudges further into your touch.
You let a blanket of silence fall over the room.
He’d been gone most of the day, out on a job. When he finally got home he walked straight past your frame laying in bed, heading directly for the bathroom, barely acknowledging you before turning on the shower and filling the room with steam.
You gave him space, letting the water wash the remnants of his remorse down the drain.
Solitude played a pivotal role in Pope’s ability to process his actions after a particularly long day. You’d learned to give him time alone when he came home from a job, knowing he’d seek out your comfort when he was ready— when he felt worthy of your silent forgiveness.
He’ll always remember the first time his feet carried him up the stairs of your front porch in search of your nurturing exoneration. Him and his brothers had just pulled off an incredibly intricate heist, one that he should’ve been proud of— relieved by the success of their endeavors. Instead, he strayed from his family’s celebration, finding himself on the doorstep of the girl he’d been seeing for the past few weeks. A girl he had no business keeping in his life. In fact, every moment he spent with you up until that point had been laced with worry and hesitation, scared that he’d taint you with his unruly lifestyle. But you were unlike anyone he’d ever known, never running out of compassion and holding yourself steady with a soft disposition, it drew him to you. The magnetic field of your aura calling to him, as his heavy hand knocked on your door, still shaky from the adrenaline and regret coursing through his veins.
You didn’t ask any questions, just helped him get cleaned up and pulled him into bed next to you. His body fit perfectly beside yours under the thick fluffy linen of your duvet. All he could think about the entire night was that white comforter, and how it was far too pure to envelop someone like him.
Neither of you said a word, he just laid with his head on your chest while you ran your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep. Limbs intertwined in the same way they would be every single night after that.
Now your house was just as much his. His clothes in your drawers, his toothbrush next to yours by the bathroom sink, his shoes by the front door; it was his home too now- you were his home.
Pope never knew anything other than the life handed to him by smurf. His perception of the world was dark, hopeless, primitive. He’d been raised that way. Never thinking he could be anything other than a bomb on a detonator just waiting to self-destruct. He was destined for a life full of pain and deception— destined to be Pope Cody.
But then he became your Andrew.
Despite everything you learned about him— you stuck around. Never using the nickname assigned to him as a kid, instead exclusively calling him by the name given to him at birth, the name graced upon him when he was still undiluted, clean of the mess waiting ahead of him.
He’d never loved someone the way he loved you. He never even thought it was possible. But when he came home to you at the end of a long night, with his head on your chest, listening to the smooth beating of your heart as you graced him with your gentle touch, he found redemption. There was vindication in your forgiveness— an unspoken, yet absolute commitment to him.
“Maybe it’s finally time for us to get out of here.” Your voice was still quiet and your hands continued their movement at Andrew’s scalp as he laid on your chest.
“We could go up north, get a house somewhere…” You begin devising a plan as he relaxes further into your touch, his face hidden from your view, making it impossible to see his reaction to your words.
“maybe the mountains…” Your voice is mild, matching the soft rhythm of your strokes through his hair.
“Nothing extravagant, just two or three bedrooms. We could start over, on our own.”
The words trail out of your mouth, thoughts spewing as you look down at the man laying on your lap. You knew he thought about it— leaving. The two of you had talked about it before, yet here you were.
“We could be free from all of this. You deserve a normal life Andrew.”
He doesn’t.
That’s all he can think as you continue petting his hair, your touch keeping him in a trance, acting as a mirage of warmth and protection washing over him. Showing him a vision of a man deserving of love.
“I don’t know about the mountains.” His tone was gruff, words fighting against his throat as they slipped into the air.
“You don’t do well with the cold.” You couldn’t see his face but you knew there was a slight smirk on his lips by the sound of his voice.
“When should we go?”
His question was simply spoken— genuine.
For the first time that night, your fingers paused, intertwined in the deep auburn of his curls as you sat in silence.
The lull in your movements was rectified by his own fingers toying with the hem of your panties. It wasn't inherently sexual, but rather tender, as his fingertips traced the skin at your waist, dipping under the material just enough to coax a shallow breath from your chest.
“Andrew…” You whispered his name, spoken like a quiet warning underneath the gasp at feeling his touch trailing lower inside your underwear.
“Tomorrow? Next week?” The questions mumble from his lips as he keeps his face smushed into the material of your shirt.
With a hand inside your underwear, his middle finger comes to a resting position on your clit. You instinctively curl your fingers into his scalp at the feeling of him rubbing small, delicate circles in between your thighs.
“I’m ovulating.” Another warning from your lips as you sigh from the relief of his touch on your body.
You tracked your cycle religiously. It had become your primary form of birth control, definitely not the most foolproof, but it hadn’t failed you yet.
He didn’t stop at your warning, just kept pressing soft circles into your clit.
“We should stop.” You tug on his hair a little as the words leave your mouth, trying to confirm the seriousness of the situation.
“Yeah?”
He rustles in his spot until his face is peering up at you, wearing an expression of pride.
“So, just you and me in that two bedroom house then?”
His big soft eyes bore into yours with your hands still holding onto his hair, frozen at the implication on his lips.
The feeling stirring in his chest was foreign.
A sudden longing for something he’d never had.
A family. A baby. Your baby. His baby. Not given to him, not found, but born. A piece of him brought into the world in the most pure form, built from a place of unconditional love. A promise of what could be. It was so daunting- the idea of it, but he couldn’t shake the anticipation coursing through his veins as he stared intently, watching your eyes widen upon hearing his words.
“Are you serious?” Your lips curl into a smile at the implication— him wanting to get you pregnant. He’d never once mentioned having kids. Never once came in you with the intent of knocking you up, so the topic catches you off guard.
He takes your wonder-struck grin of infatuation as disbelief— possible amusement that he’d ever think you’d want to have a baby with him.
His eyes lose their hopeful glimmer, gaze suddenly growing rigid and darting away from you at the potential doubt lacing your words. Of course you didn’t want to have a baby with him. He was a mess— his life was a mess.
“Andrew…” You draw out his name in a soft, sweet breath as you attempt to get him to look at you, but he’s already lost, wandering the maze of remorse and self-doubt paved in his mind.
His hand slips from your panties, and his body pulls into a seated position against the headboard. He refuses to look at you. The disgust on his face is evident, and you know he’s angry— not at you, not at the situation, but at himself.
Throwing the comforter off your body, you sit up, crawling onto his lap, straddling his hips and sitting back on his thighs.
“Andrew?” The one word question lingers in the air as you cock your head to the side, your hands wandering up his bare chest, until they’re at his jaw pulling his gaze up to meet yours.
His stare is cautious as he peers up, leaning in to your thumbs rubbing back and forth at his cheeks.
“Do you want to have a baby?” You stare deeply into his eyes, your tone low and serious.
You search his expression, trying to gauge what’s going through his mind. His eyes hold a picture of bewildered hope before he’s crashing his lips onto yours. Kissing you like he’s starving. His hands shoot to your hips, gripping hard as his lips interlock with yours.
He’s nodding pathetically with his mouth against yours. Not capable of forming words through the adrenaline fueling his actions, he just kisses you harder, shaking his head to communicate the answer to your question. Yes, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he wanted to give you a baby.
He reaches for the hem of your shirt, pushing the material up until one of his hands splays out over your stomach, caressing the skin of your lower abdomen. His pupils are shot as he pulls back from the kiss to look between your eyes, and his hand resting on your skin.
“Is that what you want?” His stare is focused on his hand caressing your belly.
You nod.
“Say it.”
His demand is stern as his stare moves to your face- intense and rough.
“I want you to fuck me full Andrew…”
A soft groan leaves his lips.
“Want you to put a baby in me.”
His hands immediately find the waistband of your panties, fighting the urge to rip the thin material straight from your body.
He yanks at them until you’re hovering over his lap, aiding him in getting them down your legs. He pulls his own underwear off, and you're back on his lap. The only piece of clothing left between you is the shirt on your back, which he immediately peels off your torso.
Both of you are completely bare, and he pulls you back to him with his hands threaded through your hair, kissing you with the same hunger as before. Fueled by the thought of finishing in you, filling you with every last drop, and fucking you until it seeps back out around his cock through every thrust.
His hand comes down between your bodies, two thick fingers at your entrance, circling, but not daring to push in. He lets out a weak grunt, as he plays in the pool of slick threatening to drip down your legs. Amazed by how wet you are, his mind buzzes at the idea of you already being such a mess from the mere mention of him getting you pregnant. He has half a mind to push his dick into you right then and there— to thrust into you to the hilt and pull your hips down onto him over and over again until he’s cumming once, twice, maybe even three times, until you're full and leaking, practically crying from how good it feels, but he wont, not yet.
Andrew always makes you cum first. Always ensuring that you're shaking on his fingers, or seeping onto his tongue before he gets his dick wet between your folds. Not because it’s the chivalrous thing to do, but because he’s obsessed with it; watching how your body reacts to him, knowing exactly what angle of his fingers makes you twitch. The exact speed to circle your clit with his tongue to have you clenching your legs around his head. It’s the routine of it, the satisfaction in hearing you cry out his name, and knowing he can do it again and again. Treating your pleasure like a game he’ll always win.
But tonight, you grip his wrist, stopping him before you can feel the ease of his fingers sinking into you.
“Not tonight.” You move his hand from between your legs, bringing it up to your mouth and placing a gentle kiss to his palm.
“Just wanna feel you.” You mumble into the palm of his hand before guiding it to rest on your cheek. He’s holding your face carefully as you shift your weight until you feel his length nudging at your entrance.
Sinking down, your cheek pushes further into his palm, and he holds you steady, his chest heaving as he fills you inch by inch.
You wait for a second before you move, focusing on how deep he feels as you sit there with him pushed completely into you.
He always fucked you with reverance. Fucked you like he meant it— long deep strokes in purposeful positions where he could see your face, watching your eyes roll back in your head with pleasure. But, in this moment, he was frozen. His hands holding your face, eyes locked on yours, mind echoing with your voice asking him to give you a baby. He lets you take your time, grinding down onto him with little whimpers escaping your throat as you rock your hips.
Your hands find his chest, bracing against his body as you move over him, keeping a steady pace. In a complete daze, you angle your hips a little differently to bury his dick even further into you, and he watches your face as it contorts in pleasure. Your hips have a mind of their own as they move in a perfectly calculated rhythm. Your eyes are on him, but glazed over with a distant fog while you mindlessly chase your release, riding him with a desperation he’d never seen before.
He knows you're close. He can see it in the familiar twitch of your jaw, and the focused furrow of your brows.
He brings a hand down between your bodies, flat at the base of his cock until your clit is gliding across his knuckles. Using the position of his hand to double your pleasure, he watches as you feverishly rub against him, using him for your own pleasure.
Your fingertips at his chest mount harder, and your head falls back, strangled moans slipping past your lips as your hips move faster. Snapping back and forth until they’re stuttering.
Andrew’s hands are still on your face, adjusting your head to make your eyes level with his. Making sure he gets to watch you cum.
Your mouth falls open, eyes zoned in on his as you cum around his cock. Your pulsing and shuttering, the only thing keeping your body from slumping forward into his are his hands still holding your head steady.
A current of pleasure washes through you, lingering in the spasms of your thighs, as Andrew watches. Giving you a moment to breathe, he lets his hands move from your face, pushing through your hair and trailing down to your waist.
With his dick still buried deep into you, he maneuvers your body until your back is on the mattress. He brings your legs up until your knees are practically against your chest, trapped under his weight as he hovers over you.
“What was that you said earlier?” His soft growl is just inches from your ear as he presses further into you.
“About fucking you full?”
You don’t answer, you can’t. Not with the way his dick is buried so far into you, grinding deliberately against the plush of your walls, tip threatening to kiss your cervix.
Something must’ve snapped in him while he watched you finish, because Andrew isn’t normally this vocal in bed. He’ll groan and whine, speak a brief praise, or quick command, but he’s not one for extensive dirty talk. Hearing him speak like this, looking you in the eyes while he pulls out slowly just to plunge back into you, is unlike him.
He’s completely entranced by your body under his control. Unable to think about anything other than giving you all of him. The need takes over his entire body, and he can’t help but vocalize it.
“Want me to fill you up?”
His head comes down to rest against yours, foreheads meeting as he bucks his hips into you hard.
“Want me to give you a baby?”
You nod with your head pressed against his, a pitiful, whining mess at his words.
Then he drives into you. Serving you deep, deliberate strokes as he keeps your legs folded against your body. Thrusting with a melody of raspy, breathless groans at his lips, his hot breath fans over your face as he fucks you. He loses all control, taken over by a primal need to fill you with his release— to see you carrying his child.
He’s relentless. Letting the way your nails drag down his back, spur on the sinful slapping of skin on skin that fills the room. It’s not fast, but intentional— purposeful. Each thrust a promise of your future as he keeps his eyes on you, Telling you he loves you in the intimacy of his body colliding with yours.
“Please Andrew.” The two words are whispered from your lips, begging to feel him soak into you, asking for him to give you everything. And It’s all you have to say for him to completely come undone.
He cums with a string of strangled moans, the weight of his body completely crumbling into you, his forehead still resting against yours.
His body is heaving, dick still buried inside of you- nearly quivering. You bring your hands to his hair, playing with his curls as he comes down from his high.
He pulls back after a few seconds, sliding out of you, and sitting up, freeing you from the weight of his torso on yours. You raise up onto your elbows, watching as he kneels between your legs.
He puts a hand on one of your thighs, prying your legs further apart while he watches your pussy, messy and swollen underneath him.
He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look up at you, just stares down between your legs, parted for him. Waiting. Standing by in anticipation to see himself dripping from your core.
You feel it, thick and warm as it seeps at your opening.
Before it can pool on the sheets beneath you, Andrew brings his thumb to your entrance, thick and sturdy, and pushing into you. His finger sinks in to the knuckle, a low moan leaving your mouth as you both watch between your legs as he fucks his spend back into you. Stroking a few times before making his way back up your body, hovering over you until you feel his dick, still hard and throbbing, gliding through your folds.
“Andrew…” You feel light headed as you pant out his name, and it almost sounds like a cry.
“Thought you wanted me to keep going till I knocked you up?” His voice approaches a playful tone as he raises his brows along with his words.
He doesn’t say anything else, just pushes all the way back into you, thrusting nice and slow, determined to fuck you through the night if that’s what it takes. All he knows, is that this time next month, you’ll be pregnant with his baby.
