kbabi

when pope was released from prison, he was relieved to be home but anxious if you'd still be around. there was no fathomable reason why you'd ever want to see him, a felon– yet, there you were in the living room with a drink in your hand, tiny denim shorts and a crop tee shirt. everything was the same as before, nothing had changed for you. you constantly sought after his attention, the only person who made you feel seen and accepted you just as is. a few months after he was out of prison you had drunkenly wondered into his room while the party was raging. you'd missed him, having him gone in those years felt lonely and felt like your security blanket was gone, your heart growing even softer for him in these times.

admitting you had a crush on him was near impossible, craig would blow you off as crazy and deran would've forbade it. when you ended up in popes room fidgeting with your hands in your tipsy state, the tightness in the little butter yellow dress felt suffocating as you choked up the words to ask pope for the one thing you never could've asked sober.

"andrew... c-can i ask you something and you won't laugh at me if you think m'stupid?" you looked up at him glass eyed and biting your lip, leaning against his closed bedroom door. he looked up from the beer he had been nursing.

"you're not stupid, don't call yourself that... s'not nice... but, go ahead, angel."

"if i asked you to be my first... would you?"

he's frozen in place, he hasn't always been the best at social cues but there was no way you could've seriously asked him that.

"first... first what, angel?"

"please don't make me say it, andrew." you whined so sweetly he was desperate to hear it now. he stalked over to you, back pressed to the wall and hands fidgeting behind you. he pick up your chin tilting your face up at him.

you weren't sober but you weren't completely drunk, he could tell the difference. you always held his eye contact a little better when you were tipsy, the liquid courage made it easier to let your mind wander to dirty places hoping that if you could look at him like this, he could feel how badly you wanted him, needed him. as you looked up at him, biting your lip, glassy eyes and lips tinted ever so slightly from lip gloss you had put on earlier, he could feel the shift.

"tell me what you want," his voice is gruff as he gripped the back your neck and his free hand fell to your waist. thumb rubbing circles over your hip that made you clench your thighs together, it made you putty in his hands.

"i-i want you to be first time... m-my first kiss a-and i wanna lose my virginity to you, andy." he practically growls as you look up at him pleadingly, his grip on you has only grown tighter.

he had figured in all this he had been away that someone else had been lucky enough to be given a chance with you. a part of his chest ached at the idea that you waited for him. he's leaning his forehead against yours and pressing himself into you, letting you feel every inch of him.

"you want me to be your first, angel? were you saving yourself for me?" his hands on your hips as he drags his lips against your neck feeling the way your squirming in his grip knowing now that no one else has gotten to touch you like this.

your trembling whimper and whispered 'yes' is enough to let him cave in his desires now. he kisses you so gently at first, letting you find your bearings until your lips are moving in sync with his. he lets his tongue slip into your mouth, eating up every whimper and pathetic whine that escapes when he squeezes your waist. he couldn't bring himself to fully take your virginity that night, he wanted you completely sober for that. instead he opted to learning every inch of your body that made you gasp and whine, how soft or rough you liked his touch, how you chased after his lips when he pulled away. he especially enjoyed the way you clawed at his shoulders when he ever so gently groped your chest.

whines and pleas of his name fell from your lips as his dragged across every inch of skin that was exposed in that dress, his hands trailed under, squeezing and groping at your thighs. you were so worked up and desperate for him, he couldn't stand the thought of leaving you so tightly wound he had to help his little lamb. you had no clue how desperate he wanted to ruin you, so that no man's touch would ever be enough. he wouldn't give you his cock that night but he gave you his mouth and fingers instead. he pulled that dress over your hips, laying you out on his bed before diving face first between your legs.

thighs wrapped around his head as he greedily lapped at your soaked panties. he looked up at you with those sweet hazel puppy eyes as he held your thighs apart, sucking at the outline of your pussy clad in the cotton panties. dragging his tongue up and down as he rut his restrained cock into his own mattress. when he finally pushed you panties to the side, the sweet cries of his name, the taste of you and the way you tugged at his hair had him ruining his boxers but he couldn't care less about the mess. at that moment, he had gone to heaven. he'd spend the next hour between your legs making you a whimpering, trembling mess as the wet squelch of every kiss he placed on your pussy grew tenfold, his fingers curled inside the velvety walls over and over again until he lost count of how many times you had drenched his face.