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here’s more baby daddy! boyd from a priv community <3 tw daddy kink n breeding kink!

been thinking ab bd boyd and his ability to eat pussy like it’s pot roast :( drawing you a nice bath while he puts the baby to sleep, and then when you get out, your towels discarded under your knees bc he has you bent over and ass up.

eating your pussy from the back while he works on circling your clit, slapping at your ass every few seconds and groaning into you sloppily. grinding your ass back on his face as if he were fucking you, and he’s sooo greedy he can’t help but dip upwards to tongue at your ass after he makes you cum on his tongue.

“so good to me daddy, make me feel so good..” you moan, your head slumped over your arms. he’s fingering you open, because of course he’s gonna fuck you after already making you cum twice. “always gonna make you feel good, y’hear me? whenever you fuckin want it.”

he’s spreading your legs a little wider, tapping his tip on your soaked holes before easing into your pussy, moaning in tandem as he slides in with little resistance. wiping his stupid mustache off as he speeds up, grabbing at your plump ass while you fuck back onto his cock.

“fucking god, can’t believe you won’t lemme give you another one when you do it like this,” head angled down, stomach tight watching you throw it on him, matching your movements with deep thrusts and a hand splayed over your back. “nah..gonna have all my fuckin’ kids. tell you that much, can’t let this pussy go anywhere.”

You wear a skimpy little outfit, pjs that are so thin and tiny they barely qualify as clothes. His eyes go all wide when you open the door and he can’t keep them on your face to save his life. You lead him to the couch, settle with one leg thrown over his lap after he sits.

You know you shouldn’t, but you find yourself wanting to tease. He’s just so cute, the way he stutters, the way he tries to pretend he’s looking at the tv and not at your tits pressed against his arm. You shift around, rubbing your thigh over his crotch until you can feel him twitching and thickening.

"You should just go talk to her." Julia encouraged, even giving Pope's shoulder a little nudge. Pope dropped his eyes from watching you across the pool to the ground, the emotions stirring up in his stomach too overwhelming for him to handle. You were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen, he was sure his heart stopped for a beat when he first saw you. Looking at you was like looking at the sun - dazzling, bright, warm, and dangerous if you stared too long.

"No, she's busy." Pope replied in a mumble, avoiding looking at his sister. Julia rolled her eyes at her brothers shyness.

"C'mon Pope, you think she's cute, take a chance! She's our new neighbour, you have the perfect excuse to introduce yourself." Julia reasoned, trying to get her twin to make a move. Julia glanced back up at you when Pope didn't move a muscle and she saw you holding a sunscreen bottle, looking a little lost. Julia instantly knew what was troubling you and she raised her hand to wave at you through the crowd of teens there for the party.

"Hey neighbour!" You looked across the pool to see Julia already looking at you as she waved you over. Pope's head shot up so fast, his eyes wide as he stared at his sister in a panic while you rounded the pool to the loungers where the twins sat.

"Do you need a hand with your back?" Julia asked and you lit up with appreciation.

"Yes!" You sighed gratefully. "I wanted to be covered before I get in the pool but I don't know anyone here and I felt bad about bothering them."

"No worries, I'd be happy to help. Oh wait! I forgot I need to help Smurf in the kitchen." Alarm bells started going off in Popes head and he almost grabbed Julia by the arm to keep her where she sat. But she was too quick, getting up and out of Pope's reach in a flash.

"My brother Andrew can help you. He's really nice." Julia left quickly, abandoning her brother to his fate. He stared at her as she went, his stomach doing nauseating somersaults, and once she was out of view he finally let his eyes drift up to you.

"Hi," You said with a cheerful smile. You introduced yourself and gingerly passed him the sunscreen bottle. Pope realized there was no way out but through and he turned towards the empty lounger so he could apply the sunscreen. You sat down facing away from him and Pope wasted no time squeezing some of the lotion into his palm and lathering it over the bare skin of your back. He apologized for how cool it was when you jumped a bit and he nervously asked you after a minute about how you liked living in Oceanside. You launched easily into your opinions and experience moving as Pope focused on getting every spot covered.

Pope found himself smiling a bit at your thoughts on how rude tourists seemed to be and how much you liked being near the ocean. Pope quietly told you about a nice spot on the beach a couple streets South and you gave him a lovely smile over your shoulder, which made all of Popes insides melt from the beauty of it, as you thanked him for the information. Pope finished up and passed you back the sunscreen bottle.

"You're really thorough!" You said, complimenting Pope on a job well done.

"Melanoma is really deadly." Pope said in response, spewing a fact as reasoning for his thoroughness. What he really wanted to say was that sunscreen is a great way to protect yourself from melanoma, and he wanted you to be protected because he liked you.

"Thanks, I'll remember that any time I'm feeling lazy about putting sunscreen on." Your reply was genuine and honest, not mocking or sarcastic like Baz might have responded. It made Pope feel good that you heard what he was saying and not only were you not brushing him off, you were thankful for the tidbit of information.

"It's actually more effective if you put it on 15 minutes before you're out in the sun." Pope added, feeling embolden to continue telling facts.

"Oh," You said a little seriously. "Should I have put it on inside then?"

"That's usually best, but you could sit in the shade for a bit instead." You looked around for some shade and spotted a strip to your right but there wasn't any seating. You made an off hand comment about it and Pope stood immediately to push your lounger, with you on it, into the shade.

"Woah, thanks Andrew!" You gave him a great big smile and he felt so elated he could have jumped over the house in a single leap. "Will you pull your chair over too? So you can keep me company?" Pope could have jumped to the moon in that moment. You wanted to spend more time with him!

Pope lifted his chair over, the feat easy for him thanks to all the weightlifting he did, and he sat down right next to you to keep talking. You sat back in the lounger and the two of you launched into a long discussion about how Pope knew so many facts, which led to him confessing that he watched lots of documentaries and you asked if he'd seen the one about blue whales.

• no one in the family knows how the two of you met, or when either of you got together, you just kinda showed up one day and didn’t leave…

• you hardly ever smiled, unless it was to pope (who you lovingly called andrew) and even then it was tiny smiles.

• everytime craig or baz would try and mess around with you, all they’d get back was a big eyed stare that would creep them out and they’d back off (pope secretly thinks it’s funny)

• one day craig and deran came home to the two of you taking over the living room. pope was sitting on the couch, nature documentary on, and you were sat on the floor between his feet. a gathering of tools sat neatly around you on the coffee table as you held a dead butterfly, carefully pinning its wings to some styrofoam

“what the fuck is that?” craig furrowed his brow as he came over, looking down over your shoulder at what you were doing. “entomology.” pope muttered, glancing down to see you hyper focused on pinning the orange insect down. craig looked even more confused, looking for deran but not finding him anywhere.

“bug taxidermy.” you said monotonously, taking pins between your fingers and pressing the sharp edge down into the pieces of parchment you had covered the wings with. “found her in the flower bed.”

“uh… nice.” craig rushed out of the living room and went to hide with deran.

• pope and his weird girlfriend that communicate through looks and grunts, no words spoken between them whatsoever some days

• the two of you don’t really sleep… up at odd hours of the night… sometimes just wondering around in the dark… you often scare the other members of the house if they are up only to see you, or pope, or the both of you just standing there (you think it’s funny)

• you also have ocd just like your boyfriend, things have to be a certain way… your way. and sometimes that leads to you and pope having little arguments about how things should be placed/ how things should be done, but your little spats never last long

• craig and deran had stopped by your house exactly one time looking for pope bc they hadn’t seen him in days and wanted to make sure he was still alive…. let’s just say they never came back after seeing creepy taxidermy animals all over the place (it didn’t help that you were brushing your raccoon lamp, its beady little eyes staring right into their souls)

• you often like to scare baz bc he’s an absolute dickhead to women and his own daughter,, so sometimes you just randomly show up at his house (he doesn’t even know how you got his address), creepily sit in the corner of lena’s room while she plays and stare at him, or come up behind him when he’s least expecting it, or just saying some odd shit to weird him out

• craig and deran like you surprisingly, you remind them so much of their older brother in certain aspects and they think the two of you are a match made in… they don’t know where, not heaven or hell, perhaps somewhere in between… baz doesn’t like you too much (and part of it’s bc he can’t charm you like he can with other women) plus he thinks your creepy. j knows to keep his distance, but whenever nicky’s around she thinks you’re odd, but cool

• pope and his weird girlfriend that like to sleep naked sometimes and not for any sexual reasons (well only sometimes lol) but for skin to skin contact, wanting to be as close together as possible (you want to be so close to him that you nearly constrict around him like a snake and your nails dig into his back but he doesn’t mind)

• the other family members often find the two of you just staring at one another. like a silent conversation was flowing between the two of you. then you’d smile, laugh softly like he had said something funny (the others are soooo confused by your dynamic)

• pope and his weird girlfriend that shockingly go crazy in the bedroom since they’re so quiet and monotone everywhere else,,, craig had only found out when he went snooping in their room only to find a pair of black fuzzy handcuffs stuffed in a drawer next to their bed and was like ‘??? what the fuck???’ and ran to tell deran who didn’t want to hear a thing about it

• you have a thing with bugs and other sorts of creepy crawlies. you will catch every single moth that flies into the house, attracted by the light over the island in the kitchen, pope will even lift you so you can grab them and put them back outside. you obviously don’t care to pick up dead bugs. you tease pope sometimes with the worms you pick up from the flower beds.

you once came up behind craig, saying ‘i have something for you’ only for him to nearly jump a hundred feet in the air when he seen the giant wolf spider that took over your whole palm. you gave him a little smirk as he flipped out, finding it hilarious

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i will be making a part twoooowoowooo

Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x J’sFriend!Reader

Some people might find Pope’s behaviors freaky and off putting—but not you—you kind of like the creepy attention J’s uncle pays you

Masterlist

18+ age gap, PiV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slight exhibition (J catches you), marking, potential non-con due to alcohol consumption, maybe pain kink if you squint

The party at the Cody residence was in full swing.

Since you’d started hanging out with the youngest Cody, you quickly learned these parties had the same rinse and repeat formula.

Liquor bottles littered the pool area. The smell of weed clung to the air. Dozens of nameless girls in various states of undress surrounded the pool. Music played so loud the air felt like it was vibrating around you.

Unless you were joining in on doing copious amounts of coke—which, you weren’t—the novelty wore off quickly.

J had long since abandoned you, trailing after Nicky wherever she’d disappeared to. Leaving you clutching a lukewarm beer, feet dipped in the pool, bored out of your mind—but you figured it beats being at home doing coursework.

You mindlessly surveyed the crowd, scrunching your nose at the naked rando that jumped from the rooftop, egged on by drunken cheers, before you finally looked towards the kitchen.

The sliding glass doors were shut, in a poor attempt to keep the rowdy party goers outside.

Pope stood behind the glass, like a sentinel.

Silently daring anyone to leave the ‘safe’ area of the pool.

But he wasn’t watching any of the party attendees.

The older man’s eyes were locked on you.

Unblinking, hazel eyes watched you through the glass barrier. With no shame, Pope didn’t look away even after you’d caught him staring, and wiggled your fingers in a half-hearted wave.

He never did care when he was caught, and you’ve caught him staring at you a ridiculous amount of times since becoming acquainted with J.

Enough times that J had noticed too, and warned you to steer clear of his uncle.

“He just got out of prison,” J had whispered to you the first time Pope had found you in the Cody’s’ kitchen. Blocking the doorway, eyes glue to you, like a shark watching its prey. J had spit out some excuse, that you’re his friend from school and Smurf said J should invite you to dinner. “He’s a little…unstable—just, make sure you’re around other people. Don’t be alone with him.”

You didn’t disregard J’s warning—but you didn’t exactly take it seriously either.

For whatever reason, you liked feeling the older man’s heated gaze on you.

A small thrill ran through you when you used the bathroom, and Pope just happened be exiting his room at the exact moment you were finished. An immovable wall of muscle, Pope didn’t budge, blocking the hall and forcing you to brush against him when you squeezed past, stuttering out a quick ‘s’cuse me’ and scramble back to J’s side.

Sometimes, you wondered if Pope knew that you knew he watched you during the days when class was over and you had the pool to yourself. You’d occasionally see the dark curls peaking in the bathroom window, feel your skin prick as you floated in the pool under observation, while wearing the skimpiest bikinis you could find.

What J didn’t know, wouldn’t kill him. Besides, he had Nicky to occupy his time. Why couldn’t you have Pope?

With that immature reasoning, you abandoned your spot beside the pool. Under Pope’s watchful eye, you weaved through the drunken bodies until only glass separated you. He didn’t drop his gaze when he slowly reached for the latch. Cool air conditioning hit you as he slid the door open, silently welcoming you in.

Pope didn’t move an inch as you stepped inside, the space between you shrinking significantly, barely a breath apart.

Silence.

Dark eyes traced over you.

“Shouldn’t you be with J?” The question caught you off guard—you honestly didn’t expect him to speak at all—but the rough, low tone Pope spoke in made your skin tingle.

“J’s busy.” You replied. “Are you?”

“Should I be?”

“Do you want to be?” You took a minuscule step towards him, mischievous in your voice.

Pope looked like he was weighing something mentally—trying to decipher if you were being playful, or outright teasing him, being cruel to the ‘weird Cody’—he seemed to find the answer he was searching for, something shifting in his posture.

His guard dropped, if only by a fraction. Turning, he didn’t look back at you before commanding, “C’mon.”

You obeyed easily, eagerly following as he drifted through the house until he reached his unspoken destination.

Pope’s room—now J’s—was empty when Pope pushed the door open, claiming his spot in the middle of the room and finally turning back to you.

You quietly observed the area. Small hints of J were scattered about—a pair of jeans discarded in the corner of the room, text books piled on the bedside table, his scent lingered.

“It was mine.” Pope stated, forcing you to look back to him. His broad frame looked out of place on the small room. Arms hung limp at his side, hands clenching by his thighs, like he was aching to touch but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet anyways. “It was my room first.”

“And now?” You asked, carefully approaching like he was a skittish animal. You tentatively reached for his twitching fingers, slipping your hand into his rough palm. “Where do you stay now?”

“The couch.” His nose scrunched up, displeased. “Or hotel.”

“Mean.” You frowned, sweet breath fanning the stubble on his cheek.

“We shouldn’t.” Pope stated, though every part of his body was disagreeing. He tracked your every move, eyes soft with desire. His erection already pressing against your thigh as you lean into him. Gripped your hand firmly, as though you might slip right between his fingers, and be gone. “J—we shouldn’t.”

“That’s what makes it fun.” You grinned softly, and then leaned up, capturing Pope’s lips before he could reply.

He folded instantly, strong arms wrapped around your waist and squeezed you against him. Pope’s lips were surprisingly soft, his kisses both desperate and hesitant—as if he expected you to suddenly part from him and reveal this was all a cruel joke.

Lulling your mouth open to welcome his curious tongue, humming happily at the pleasant taste of toothpaste and faint beer. Day old stubble scratched against delicate skin, your fingers glided over his clothes chest, feeling the hidden hard muscles to grip at the collar of his shirt, leaning your weight into him until you were walking Pope backwards towards the bed.

Pope’s knee’s buckled as soon as they hit the frame. You followed as he sat on the mattress, straight and stiff, even as you crawled into his lap. Your legs parted, Pope’s stiffness pressing into you as you settled in his lap.

“Pope.” You broke your kiss, muttering against bruised lips with a light roll of your hips. Pressing your weight down against his trapped cock, shuddering from the deep groan forced from Pope’s throat. “Touch me, Pope.”

Pope took directions easily, hands dropping from your waist to dig his fingers into the plush flesh of your ass. He guided you to rock against him, controlling each roll of your hips. Long digits curled under the flimsy shorts. Warmth spread through you when Pope brushed the pads of his fingers across your pussy, touching you in tune with your grinding.

Every sound Pope made was music to your ears—every groan, every grunt, every shaky breath followed by muffled cursing—sent shock waves through you, made you more and more desperate for the awkward man. Squirming in his lap, wetness soaked his fingers until Pope decided he was done waiting.

In a flash, Pope flipped your position. Your back met the soft mattress as Pope caged you in, raised up on his knees to shimmy your shorts and bikini bottoms off in one fluid motion, tossing them unceremoniously over his shoulder.

“Don’t.” He commanded, voice heavy with lust, when you attempted to shut your legs. Childish shyness had you squirming under his greedy eyes. Strong hands curled around your thighs and kept you spread open for him to ogle. “Wanna see you—see everything.”

Then he was diving in, nuzzling his nose against soft, youthful skin. Brushing over your soft folds. Crudely inhaling the naturally feminine scent he’d been deprived of for three long years.

Pope dully noted the whimper you let out as he nudged the tip of his nose against your little aching pearl, the tentative touch enough to have your hips flexing against his face. A desperate, needy ‘Please’ clawing its way from your throat—and Pope was happy to oblige.

He ran the flat of his tongue through your folds, taste buds singing at the tang of your slick. A pleased hum vibrated through him. Pope pressed you into the bed, unwilling to let your wriggling and whining prevent him from burying his face in your pussy.

Your nails dug into his short hair, he pointed his tongue, drawing the tip around your clit in sharp circles before sucking the little bud, until your shrieks filled the air, “Oh fuck—Pope, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

Pope held you steady as you thrashed against him, damn near bucking him off, feeling your core tightening with each precise lick.

“Cum f’me.”

The command barely registered in your mind before Pope bit down, catching your overly sensitive bud between uneven teeth. Blindingly hot pleasure shot through you. Your back bowed off the mattress as you flooded Pope’s face, while he happily drank down everything you offered.

Lazily running his tongue over you, Pope soothed the pain as you came back down to earth, a puddle of limbs and heavy breathing.

“Still with me?” He asked, pressing soft kisses to your pussy and thighs, drawing your eyes down to him. Face shiny with your slick, and pupils blown wide like he’d consumed the most powerful drug known to man.

Beautiful. You thought, absentmindedly while he waited for a response. “Mhm—still here.”

Twisting your fingers into his collar, you drew Pope back up to you. You tore at his button up, pushing the fabric from his shoulders, exposing thick muscles and freckled skin. Then, your hands dropped to his belt, working the metal free, zipper to his jeans down, and frantically pushing the harsh material from his hips. Nimble fingers found the throbbing length barely concealed by his boxers.

“This for me?” You grasped his cock, feeling the heat through thin boxers, feeling him pulse in your palm.

“All for you.” Pope replied, shucking his boxers down his thighs, fitting his wide frame between your legs. Heavy cock settling against your pussy.

“You gonna fuck me, Pope?” You wormed your hand between your bodies, grasping the thick cock and teased the head through your slick folds, covering it in your wetness while you cooed against his lips. “Gonna fuck your nephew’s friend on his bed?—ah!”

“My bed.” Pope grunted, the air punched right out of your lungs as he sunk into you. “It’s mine. My room—my bed—my girl.”

“Oh my god!”

Pope didn’t stop, didn’t pause, just kept pressing on until every inch of him was sheathed in your tight walls. Hips flush against yours, Pope held you as you spasmed around him, body protesting the sudden stretch.

But you were a greedy young thing, that much was obvious to Pope.

The deep pressure. The feeling of being so full. You preened against his throat, hiked your legs higher around Pope’s waist, blunt nails dug into his ass as you pulled him against you, “More.”

Wet sounds filled the room. His hips met yours with a rhythmic slap! as he picked up the pace, driving his thick cock into you with so much force it had ypu scooting further up the mattress until there was nowhere else to go. Nothing else to do but cling helplessly to Pope as he caged you in and used you.

“That’s it—again, wanna see it again.” Pope growled, a rabid look clouding his eyes. “Cum—wanna feel it.”

Breathless whimpers when Pope buried himself deep, grinding his pelvic bone against your clit until you were crying. Wiggling helplessly in his arms as he forced you over the edge again, you sobbed and tried in vain to push his stone wall of a body away from your sensitive core, to no success. “Too much!”

“You can take it.” Pope dismissed. Manipulating your jelly-like limbs with ease. Pope pinned your knees to your chest, folding you open, strong fingers digging into the back of your thighs as he held you.

He felt so much deeper now. Your eyes rolled back, his balls kissing your ass with each thrust. Being filled so, so deep, you swore you could feel him brushing your lungs each time he bottomed out. Pope’s rhythm faltered, hips twitching against his will the closer he was to spilling.

“Gonna cum in you—then they’ll know.” He panted, face laxed in utter pleasure as he chased his release, fucking into you in shorter, harder thrusts. Deep, masculine groans mixing prettily with your shrill cries and pleads. “They’ll know—oh, fuck—know you’re mine.”

His abdominal muscles tightened, thick vein in his neck bulging as he reached his peak. Pope bowed, body covering yours as he collapsed down, tucking his face against your shoulder.

Your head lulled, lazily against the pillows until dazed eyes wandered over to the bedroom door.

The cracked open door.

Cracked enough to catch J standing in the hallway. A look of indifference on his face despite seeing his uncle naked, folded over his friend, fucking you in his bed.

Pope shuddered as he came—full body shakes and soft whimpering—burying himself deep as warmth filled you.

Sharp teeth found your shoulder, in an attempt to quiet himself, to ground himself. You yelped at the bite, attention drawing back to Pope before shooting back to the doorway—now empty.

You tangled your fingers in Pope’s sweaty locks and pulled, hard.

“Ow, Pope!” You swore, wiggling your shoulder away from his mouth. “That hurt!”

pairings: pope cody x fem! reader

tags: no smut but still 18+ only, stalking, obsessive tendencies, dark! pope cody, longing, breaking and entering, legal age gap (reader is 22, pope is 39)

word count: 1090

summary: pope had been out of prison for 2 weeks, yet you didn’t know it, but he had been watching your every move and finally decides to come pay you a visit.

a/n: who wants to be on the shawn hatosy universe taglist? i may do a google form

two weeks.

that was how long pope had been home from prison, and also how long he had been watching your every move from afar, as he was so good at doing. standing hidden across the street, parked down the block, eyes catching the lights in your room flick on and off, you name it. smurf had caught him a couple of times walking down the street as late as 3 in the morning going or coming from who knows where. baz knew where he was going. where else would pope go?

your house.

well, your father's house. the father who leaves every friday night at approximately 8 pm to go to the bar downtown and wouldn't be back until 11 pm to midnight, drunk.

for the 3 years he was in prison, you got a different job, working at a retail store on the closing shift every other day. on those nights he watched you close the shop, he always brought his gun with him in case he needed to protect you from any nightcrawlers.

you had no idea he was home. when pope went in, your father made you cut all ties with the cody's and made you stop responding to pope's letters and collect calls.

'you need to focus on your college classes.' he would say.

'that andrew is older than you and dangerous.'

but he always had a soft spot for you.

every single night in prison, he thought about you. if you changed your hair, if you got a new wardrobe, if you still wore pink, if you had a new boyfriend. the last thought always angered him to no end, the thought of another boy touching you, caressing you, kissing you, making you smile. pope couldn't handle it.

your father was in the way.

pope didn't like people getting in his way.

you were 19 when he first got locked up, and now you were freshly 22, and even more beautiful than pope remembered when he last saw you. you were walking to your car one morning, pope watching you from behind the corner of your house outside. he decided to try and call you to see if you would answer.

you felt your phone vibrate in your hand, holding it up to look at the caller ID but it says unknown caller. you reluctantly slide it to the right to answer.

"hello?" you were met with silence, as pope's eyes traced your every move as you waited for a response that he would never give. you heard even, calm breaths through the phone speaker before speaking again. "...andy?" you breathe out and he hangs up the call before disappearing, not that he was in your sights anyway.

that was a few days ago.

now, pope was standing in your dark bedroom, watching your peaceful sleeping figure. he slid open your bedroom window with barely a sound before he stepped softly on the carpet and closed the window shut behind him. he tilted his head as he watched your chest rise and fall with each breath. you still slept on your side, facing the wall that was right next to your bed.

you didn't even stir as he walked to the edge of your bed and just stood there. you felt his presence before you saw him and your eyes opened only to be met with a tall, dark figure standing right in front of you. you shot up, sitting upright immediately and pushing yourself back against the headboard in fear.

"a-andy...?" your eyes still adjusting to the dark room and from just waking up.

"why were you avoiding me?" he asks in that tone that always made your breath hitch. your eyes dart all over him.

"i-"

"you knew i was calling you." he calmly spoke again. "you answered." his head moved with his words, never taking his eyes off of you.

"why didn't you come see me?" he asks with a lingering hint of sadness, it broke your heart.

"andy, i wanted to but-"

"i waited every day." he paused. "you weren't there." all those days you could've snuck out of the house to visit him while he was up there all alone came back to you.

baz had told you he was having a hard time. the guards not treating him right, getting into fights, you name it. you knew he had to defend himself. you could see the results of that; he was bigger, stronger. you gathered up the courage to get up out of your bed, stand up, and walk over to him. you looked him in the eyes before bringing your arms up to wrap behind his neck, standing on your tiptoes in a hug. his arms stay at his sides but not for long. when he does embrace you back, it's as if he's holding on to you so that you don't slip through his fingers.

he puts his nose into your neck and breathes you in, pushing that breath back out against the skin there as he reveled in your floral scent that always drove him crazy. "you still smell the same."

he spoke again. "you stopped writing me." his words muffled by the skin of your neck.

"i didn't want to, i promise." you truthfully tell him. your father threatened to stop paying your tuition if he caught you sending another letter or another one from pope being mailed to the house.

"he made you stop." it was more a statement than a question, to which you nodded your head.

"but i never stopped loving you, andy. i missed you so much." you kindly admit to him, knowing that he has doubts about love. he pulled back so you could see his face, as his expression broke. he didn't speak, he just slammed his lips against yours, his hand sliding to the back of your neck to grip it there possessively. three years of longing and desire put into this one kiss made your knees weak as you kissed him back.

as your lips were still connected, he walked you back to lay on your bed on top of the astray sheets, his hands coming to dig into the mattress on either side of your head.

"were you a good girl while i was gone?" he asked, alluding to did you sleep with anyone else. you violently shook your head yes and the ghost of a smirk showed on his face.

and he works on it because you stop, mid activity to be like, are you good? because its giving me a complex here, like...I need feedback, good bad or otherwise.

and he does! he works on being more vocal and saying what he likes and when you do that tongue thing on his tip he howls unabashedly.

I'd love you to write something about this.

love your stuff! 🩵

ugh, love it!! i know i haven’t posted recently :( but omg is getting my schedule sorted out and getting back into my normal routine for class a struggle!! anywayyy hope you enjoy! and as always i love you lots and lots like polka dots!!

pope is the most quiet man you know. he barley speaks, even when he’s balls deep inside you.

he just has you on your stomach, hands on either side of you braced on the mattress, and they barley ever move. when he does speak it’s only because he asking if you’re okay and that he’s not hurting you.

it drives you crazy. it’s been like this ever since you two started dating, you didn’t want to say anything because of how you thought he might get embarrassed or something, so you just let it happen for a little while.

but you finally snap after you’ve had an extra difficult week. rude behavior from co-workers, keep waking up late for work, and the grocery store you usually shop at stopped selling your favorite snack. just a really difficult week so far.

so you wanted some time with Andrew. wanted to have a nice intimate few hours with him. had dinner together, and now your in missionary. he’s over top of you, hands where they always are, and it’s only been about a few seconds. barley enough time for either of you to work up a sweat or start panting.

you have to stop him mid thrust. shaking your head, and putting your palms on his shoulders to let him know to just get off. he’s all concerned with furrowed brows and resting his hands on his thighs as he sits back on the mattress and you sit up.

“im sorry, andrew. i… well i just…”

you stop there letting out a desperate sigh and throw your head down, and ran a hand over your face trying to verbalize these thoughts that have been consuming you whole

he sets an awkward hesitant hand on your arm, trying to be comforting in the little ways he knows how. you finally lift your head, looking up at him again with a sorry expression.

“am… am i not satisfying you? or something?”

he’s shaking his head and humming a little

“no, of course not.”

you let out a sigh. you have to. with his answer that’s supposed to be reassuring but just sounds so vague like it always does.

“well, you don’t ever say anything. not before, during, or after. you barley show any indications that you do enjoy having sex. like… i just don’t know.”

that confession makes him frown and awkwardly inch closer to wrap two very awkward arms around your shoulders, and rest his forehead against yours but very quickly abort.

“sorry. i didn’t mean to give you that impression.”

you smile a little and place your arms around hum but they’re much more certain about that they should be there than his on

“oh, Andy…” seeing how his lips are tilting in the slightest way down

“i know you didn’t mean to. s’okay, i promise.” you plant a few kisses on his cheek and lips before you both just decide to crawl under the covers and go to bed.

and ever since then he’s been at the top of his game. he’s even gone as far as to suggest different positions!!

“you’re so sweet.” he claims buried between your thighs which are currently burning from his stubble, but you’re never gonna tell him about it. he’ll stop then, and you don’t want him to.

he’ll grip your hair more often because you mentioned how it was nice for him to pull it sometimes.

whispers sweet things into your ear or just flat out states them. “you’re so pretty.”, “you’re the best girl ever.”, “you’re so beautiful when you blush.”, or just straight up “i love you so much.” it’s not much going by basic standards. but it’s definitely a lot considering who it’s coming from.

“i love this color on you.” when you’re wearing an bright red bra & panties set. you have at least four sets now.

Andrew felt icky. he shouldn’t be having thoughts about a girl so many years younger than him, especially when she was his niece. not actually, but that’s not important. you were close enough!

he’s standing inside watching you splash around the pool while Craig stands at the edge and talks to you. Craig’s just on his way out, but he’s gotta stop and talk to his favorite niece. yeah, you’re not his only niece but you’re the one who’s not really related to him and old enough for him to be able to ogle at you, so therefore making you the favorite niece.

you’re treading water while looking up at Craig and listening to whatever crazy story he’s got now. talking for a few more minutes then he states he needs to leave. you give him a wave and he’s gone.

and almost right on queue Andrew come bounding over. stopping at the ledge of the pool, and opening his mouth but you beat him to the punch.

“will you swim with me?” all pouty and pleading for the old man to join you. still treading water while you make big puppy eyes at him. he shakes his head

“i was coming to tell you i’m gonna leave.”

you pout even more, making your way to the ledge and grasping the concrete beneath your palms and finer tips on either side of Andrew’s shoes. staring up at him.

“what? why? i don’t want you to leave.”

the proclamation has him second guessing if he should go. he has stuff to do. people he needs to talk to. he shakes his head again.

“i need to go do some things. you’ll be fine without me.”

you immediately shake your head. not without your uncle andrew, you’ll never last ten seconds.

“nooo, i came over for you uncle Andy. please don’t leave… i barley got to talk to you.” all frowny faced and big eyes that are starting to water. he huffs and rolls his eyes to himself.

“i have to.” leaving no room for you to argue with him. but somehow you still manage to get out a “but-” before he cuts you off

“‘but’ nothing. i’ll be back later, pretty girl.” then he takes a step back and heads to the gate.

you immediately are getting out of the pool to try and protest more. not even grabbing your towel just running over to your uncle and tugging at his arm. whining the whole time.

“pleaseeee uncle Andrew.” “please don’t go, yet!” trying all your efforts not to cry. he stops in his tracks and huffs through his nose turning to face you.

“i really need to go run these errands, sweetheart.” you get an idea and immediately switch to start smiling again

“let me go with you. pleaseee? it’ll be some family bonding time. please, please, pleaseee uncle Andrew.”

he can’t keep up this game forever. he just begrudgingly nods and gestures over to the towel draped over the lounge chair.

jack has always been stubby.

everything about him is thick. legs, arms, neck, tummy, dick. he was like hard squishy that you just couldn't help sinking your teeth in.

specially during sex. your favorite position was missionary. it meant having his thick arms caging you down, his tummy pressing against yours as your nails digged into his beefy shoulders. that feeling alone was enough to bring you to an euphoric orgasm.

but lately, you been starting to feel less tummy and more hard muscle. you loved his tummy! you would lay your head on it, dig your nails into it while riding him.

maybe it was the lack of eating, or maybe the increase of swat shifts he's been taking. whatever it is, you didnt like it. you loved chubby jack, loved his dad bod.

“jeez, im full.” he groaned as he stood up from the couch, gently pushing your legs off his thighs. “what?” you frowned, grabbing onto his hand. “you didnt finish it, jack.” you pulled him back down, shifting so were sitting on his lap.

“yeah but im-” “let me feed you.”

his eyebrows quirked at the sudden shift in position. he also didnt miss the way your hand rested against his now more flatter tummy. but he knew better than to deny you, specially since you looked so cute wanting to take care of him.

unbeknownst to him, you weren't doing it because you were concerned about him not eating. well kinda, but your main concern was getting his tummy back! so, he sits through 30 minutes of you feeding him, your hand against his cheek. which are more hollow now.

its not that he doesn't look good, he really does. but he doesn't look like your jack. your stubby jack. even his fingers are losing their girth. its not an obvious change, but its kind of impossible not to notice when you've had them inside of you several of times.

“what's up with you today?” he says inbetween chews, rough hands running up and down your back, eventually settling on the swell of your hips.

you look down for a moment, looking almost shy. you didnt want to make him feel self conscious, but his body changing did upset you a bit. “i dunno, i just *feel* you getting skinnier.” you whisper, setting the plate down on the couch.

his eyebrows furrow in confusion, head tilting like a confused puppy. “i mean i love how you look baby, so sexy!” you reaffirm, slightly nervous. “but-but-” you let out a sigh, running your hands through his curls more for your comfort than for his. “you're not...chubby anymore.”

you're so caught up in your own yours you dont realize he's smiling down at you, one of his broad hands going up to your head to pull it down to his chest. you melt immediately, cheek pressing against one if his pecks. he's so hard and broad, but yet again, you miss the slight curve of his tummy pressing against you.

“so you're upset because im getting skinnier?” he chuckles, kissing your forehead softly. “i guess so...it sounds bad when you put it like that.” you mumble, gently curling your fingers at his biceps that are holding you in place.

“i thought you would enjoy it, you know, me getting in shape.” he says softly, honestly. and it break your heart thinking that he's probably been feeling self conscious about his body, damn you for not showing him how much you love his stubby self!

“what?” you gasp, shaking your head. “baby you're already so perfect.” you insist, lifting your head up to look at him. “you're so sexy, jack. you dont need to be in shape, you already were.” your last words sound more earnest, it makes him feel better.

“i love your body, and i loved it before you started working out.” you mumble again, kissing his cheek. his scruff scratching your lips. “you better have not been starving yourself jack abbot.” you say more sternly, pinching his cheek.

“i swear, i havent. just been working out more.” he flexes his arm, his bicep looking extra biteable. but even then it doesn't satisfy you. jack sighs, cupping your cheek. “give me a couple of weeks, ill stuff my mouth with grease and junk.” he whispers, smirks as he pulls you closer to him. his cock chubbing in his jeans. “and you... your tummy will be full aswell. full of life, then we'll both be big and fat.”

you gasp, slapping his shoulder. “jackie stopp...” you whine, yet you dont pull away. the imagine does sound appealing. getting his tummy back while you being full of life. “i guess it doesn't sound so bad.” you mumble after a beat, arms wrapping around his neck.

Y’all are pervs (tbh me too)