The Lou Loop

You have no idea how Jack convinced you to come with him to pick up his estranged twin brother from prison. Maybe it was because it was so out of the blue. The two of you have always kept each other at arm's length when it came to any personal stuff. 

So, when he asked you if you would come with him, you didn't know how to say no. 

Because you wanted to say yes.

You have been curious about Andrew Cody since the moment Jack mentioned he had a twin brother. They don't share a last name. 

And technically, they're triplets. 

But his mother had decided to only keep Andrew and his sister Julia. Jack never knew his deranged mother, who his brother calls Smurf for some reason. She had dropped Jack off at an orphanage and he was adopted by a family who lived on the east coast. His adopted parents, the Abbots, were lovely people. He was raised in a happy household. 

The same cannot be said for his brother Pope. 

“Why do you call him Pope?” You ask Jack on the drive to the prison. 

“That's what he told me to call him.” Jack shrugs. “I didn't pry. It's not my place.” 

You're unsure if you agree with that. If you found out randomly one day that you not only had a nearly identical twin, but that twin is in prison for an armed bank robbery gone wrong and goes by a strange nickname, you would definitely be asking a lot of questions. 

But Jack doesn't seem to have the same sense of curiosity that you do. He doesn't even know why he asked you to come with him. The two of you never go out together, unless it's convenient like for grocery shopping. He keeps a distance because his work is too hectic for him to be in a committed relationship. At least, that's the excuse he will keep telling himself because his feelings for you would grow out of control otherwise. Then he'll start imagining a life with you, one where you're his. 

A life he cannot have. Or won't allow himself to…

He has no idea that you feel the same way about him. 

And you aren't going to tell him. 

Because you don't want to ruin a simple arrangement. You are perfectly comfortable warming his bed whenever he's home. Even if it kills you sometimes to think that this could all end the moment he finds someone else. You try not to think about that. 

You focus back on Pope. “Will he be living with us?” 

“Until he gets on his feet. He'll stay at the guest house.” Jack has a small guest house in the backyard, the size of a studio apartment. It has its own bathroom so Pope would only have to come into the house for the kitchen. 

“How long do you think that'll be?” You can't imagine how rough the transition back into regular life is after being in prison for years… 

“Who knows. Shouldn't change things.” Jack had already set aside a fund for Pope. Sort of like a weekly allowance, at least until he finds work. That's why he has been picking up SWAT shifts. All that money was being put aside for this. 

“I'm sorry about your sister.” Pope had told Jack that their sister, Julia, had died of an overdose recently.

That's why Pope doesn't want to go back to Oceanside. He didn't even tell any of the Codys that he's being released. Though, they never went to visit him anyways, not even to tell him Julia died. He had to find out over the phone when he called Baz and Baz told him that her son J is staying with Smurf now. Pope meant to tell Baz at the very least but he ended up keeping his release to himself. None of them ever called him so he knows they won't find out either way. They probably figured he'd find a way to get himself stuck in prison forever…

“I never knew her so there's nothing to be sorry about.” Jack wonders how different his life would've been if his mother hadn't given him up for adoption. 

Him and Pope could not be more different. They may look alike but their life trajectories have skewed dramatically in opposite directions. Jack is a veteran and an attending physician for a very successful Emergency Department. Pope is a felon who is lucky that overcrowding had him booted out early on parole. 

“Still, it sucks you never got to meet her. Do you think you'd ever want to meet your half-brothers?” 

Jack shakes his head. “If what Pope has told me about them is true, I think it's best if they don't know I exist.”

The only reason Jack knows about Pope is because he had treated a patient that was obsessed with robberies. One of those online sleuth types. They thought Jack was Pope in disguise. That's how he found out he had an identical twin. 

They've been exchanging letters ever since. Jack has even gone to visit him a few times prior to his release. It was strange. Like looking into a mirror that's crooked. 

“It's kind of you to house him while he's readjusting.” It's a bit reminiscent of how you and Jack met. 

You were like a stray cat. He always saw you shopping late at night at the same twenty-four hour market he goes to, buying small handfuls of things here and there. One day, he asked you about why you only shopped at night. You asked him the same question. He told you that he works the night shift so he keeps that sleeping schedule even on his off days. You told him it's because you like the dark. 

You slept with him for the first time that night. In his truck, in the empty parking lot. That's when he knew you were just like him. You both had the same tastes in bed. He hasn't slept with anyone else since. Neither have you. 

You both are comfortable with each other. Not comfortable enough to admit the layer of feelings that neither of you want to address, but comfortable enough to fuck for hours at a time. 

Everything is about to change, though.

You and Jack stand outside the gate, waiting for Pope to come out. You notice the way Pope walks. There's a cadence to it that is…unique. The closer he gets to the two of you, the more your gut seems to churn. 

A weird sense of foreboding. 

You shake it off when Pope is in front of you. He looks at Jack then asks, “who's she?” 

Jack introduces you to Pope. “She lives with us.” 

“Why?” Pope furrows his brow at you. 

You do not have an easy answer to that. Neither does Jack. 

“Cheap rent.” You say with a shrug. Technically, you aren't lying. Free rent is cheap rent. 

He keeps his eyes on you, his gaze a bit more intense than any look you've ever seen on Jack's face. It's uncanny how similar they look. If it weren't for Pope's shorter hair, you might not be able to tell them apart… 

Pope stares at you the entire ride back out of the corner of his eye, since you have to sit between him and Jack in the truck. He can't tell if the two of you are in a relationship and just don't want to tell him. But there's no affectionate touching that couples would usually do. Jack keeps his hands on the wheel. You even lean more towards Pope than Jack. 

Maybe the two of you are just roommates. Pope doesn't believe it though. Because you're stunning. And small. Perfect to toss around in bed. 

You feel your ears heat up. You don't want to turn your head to check but you're sure Pope is staring at you. He keeps his hands at his sides and on occasion, his fingers brush against yours. You can't tell if it's on purpose or not. It has the butterflies in your stomach fluttering up a storm. 

“First meal out of prison, what do you want?” Jack and Pope had talked about this at length in their letter exchange. “Still want that burger I was telling you about?”

“Can I shower first?” Pope hasn't showered alone in years. He needs it. To feel somewhat normal again. 

“Sure. I'll drive home. I stocked your bathroom already.” 

Jack's words give you pause. When did he do that? Was that the reason he had a bunch of random packages these last few weeks? It was all stuff for Pope? 

“Thanks.” Pope is uncertain still if he trusts Jack's hospitality. He knows Jack is a doctor, which means he is well versed in treating a patient. 

But is Pope his patient or his brother? 

Pope doesn't know which he'd prefer. He doesn't have a great relationship with his brothers, even though he would do anything for them. Including taking the fall for a robbery gone wrong. 

They could've, at the very least, visited him… 

He was lucky the prison he was sent to was on the east coast near Jack so he had one visitor. It made him feel less alone. But very uneasy too. 

Because Jack has everything he would ever want. 

Except for you, for some reason. 

Pope watches the way the two of you interact when you all get to Jack's house. Jack doesn't hold the door open for you, going into the house first. Pope grabs it and holds it for you, letting you step in before him.

“Thanks, Andrew.” You tell him reflexively then catch yourself. “Shit, sorry, Jack told me you go by Pope.” 

“You can call me Andrew.” He likes how his name sounds coming from your lips. 

Jack shifts his attention back at Pope when the door closes then gestures, “let me show you where you'll be staying." 

That seems to be your cue to leave. You disappear into the nearby hallway. That must be where your room is. 

Jack catches how Pope still has his eyes on you as you walk away. That unsettles him. But he has no real claim on you. 

That's what disturbs him even more. The fact that Pope could pursue you if Jack doesn't step in to stop him… 

“She's pretty.” Pope says when he sees Jack looking at him with the same eyes Baz does when Pope would look at Catherine. Strange to see that look on his face. 

Is that how Pope would look if another man was eyeing his lover? 

So, the two of you definitely aren't just roommates. 

Jack doesn't comment on that. He just goes, “come on. You should wash up and then I'll take you out to eat.”

“She's not coming with us?” Pope's question drives Jack insane. 

Because he doesn't invite you out to eat. That's too intimate in his mind. He buys you take out if he picks something up on the way home from the hospital. Coffee on occasion. Usually after he texts you and asks if you want it. Because it's convenient. Not because he likes how you smile when he comes home with a treat. Definitely not… 

“You can ask her if you want.” Jack leaves that up to Pope. 

“Okay.” Pope sees a challenge when it presents itself. Jack probably figures he won't do it. 

He's in for quite a surprise. 

The guest house is like a tiny cottage in the backyard. It has enough space for a king sized bed surprisingly. Pope hasn't slept on such a large bed in years. It'll probably take a while for him to adjust to. Maybe he won't be sleeping at all… 

“There's clothes in the closet for you. I figured we're about the same size but let me know if anything doesn't fit right.” Jack sorted through his wardrobe for clothes that were a bit less fitted, in case Pope was more filled in than him. 

Pope nods then says quite bluntly, “do I get a key to the house?” 

“Your key is right here.” Jack points to the rack on the wall. “It opens the door that leads to the backyard and this guest house. The sliding door that leads to the kitchen is never locked so you can enter from there.” 

Pope tries not to be bothered by that. It's a bit too much like back at Smurf's. They never used the front door. Always entering the house from the pool into the kitchen.

Thankfully Jack doesn't have a pool. Pope would probably go crazy if he did. He's already pretty crazy to begin with. His brother doesn't need to know that just yet, though. 

“I'll be in the living room. Meet me when you're done.” Jack tells him before leaving. 

Pope takes a moment to look around the room. He straightens out the sheets on the bed. He grabs the chair that was at the small desk Jack keeps in here and faces it towards the door. He sits down, checking if this is a comfortable angle. He needs to be able to see any entrances. For his paranoia that a prison guard will come in at any moment and assault him. 

Once he has done that, he goes to shower. He spends a long time in the shower, doing everything he hasn't been able to do. Including jerking off. Thinking about you and your lovely voice saying his name. How soft your hand was when he'd brush his fingers against it at any bump on the road. Wondering what it would feel like wrapped around his cock. 

Would you be gentle with him? Would you want him to be gentle with you? 

In the living room, Jack can't shake off what Pope had asked him earlier so he gets up and goes to your room, knocking like he always does. You open the door and say, “Jack?”  

“Pope is going to ask you to come with us for dinner.” He just states it outright. 

“Okay?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Thanks for the warning?”

“Are you going to say yes?” Jack doesn't know why he's even asking. He has asked you a lot of strange things today… 

“I haven't eaten.” That's the truth. You are hungry. “A burger sounds nice.” 

Jack can't really tell you to decline now. “Then I'll tell him you want to tag along. I'll come get you when he's ready.” 

You nod then shut your door. Jack stands there, biting back a sigh. What the hell is he doing? 

You're asking yourself the same question. Does he not want you interacting with Pope? You want to convince yourself that this is some kind of jealousy but you don't think Jack values you enough to be possessive over. That's what you think. That isn't the truth, however.

Jack is growing more possessive now that he realizes he might have competition for your attention. His own brother. He has to figure out a way to dissuade Pope. But that would require admitting that he wants you to be more than just a fuck buddy and he is not prepared for that yet. 

For the potential of losing you entirely if he screws everything up…

When Jack sees Pope open the sliding door, he says, “meet me outside.” 

“I still have to ask our roommate if she wants to tag along.” Pope purposefully emphasizes that fact. 

“I already asked. She is.” 

“Then I'll go tell her we're heading out.” Pope walks past Jack. He already memorized where your room is in the house. Jack can't stop him from knocking on your door. 

You open it and see Pope. “Oh, hello.” 

“Are you ready to eat?” Pope notices you've changed clothes. Did you shower too? You're dressed much more relaxed now. 

“Yeah.” You close your bedroom door behind you. When you turn back around, you nearly jump because Pope is still standing right there. Very close to you… 

“Do you need your wallet?” He sees you're bringing a bag with you. “I'll pay for your meal.” 

“That's sweet of you, Andrew.” You say kindly because it is a nice gesture. “But it's alright. You should save your money. At least until you get a steady income.” 

“I'll buy you a meal when I do then.” He gestures for you to walk ahead. He wants to be able to look at you for a bit longer. 

You feel flush because it's been a while since someone's been that forward with you. His gaze is right on you as you two step outside. Jack is already in his truck, waiting. Pope opens the passenger side door for you and you hop in, sitting between the two of them again. 

You clutch your bag in your lap, feeling a bit shy at how it feels to be sandwiched between them. You shake your head of thoughts you definitely should not be having. 

Maybe you should've said no to going out to eat…

It's a local fast casual restaurant, done up to look like a diner in the 70s. Jack has picked up food from this place for you before. They do have great burgers. 

The host sits the three of you at a booth and Jack gestures for you to sit down first before he chooses to sit next to you, making Pope sit on his own across from you. 

Pope doesn't mind this. It just means he gets to look at you the whole time. 

Your heart is hammering in your chest at how intense his gaze is. That's probably why you stumble on your order when the server comes by asking if you all want something to drink. You end up ordering a mixed drink and the two brothers get beers. The alcohol will help ease your nerves, hopefully. 

“Do you two go out to drink often?” Pope asks and Jack knows he's probing on purpose. He has to hide his annoyance at that. 

“No.” Jack says to Pope directly, hoping that's the end of his questioning. 

Pope turns to you. “Do you like to drink?”

You shrug. “Sometimes.” 

“So, how did you two become roommates?” He asks the question Jack has been trying to avoid the most. 

You answer. “He told me he had a free room and needed someone to watch his house when he was at work.”

“How nice of Jack.” Pope says, his eyes drifting to your lips for just a second. 

“Why do people call you Pope?” If Pope is going to push Jack, he's going to do the same thing back. 

“Because I robbed a church when I was a teenager and beat up a priest.” Pope answers right as the server comes with the drinks. They give him a concerned look as they set his beer in front of him. He holds a very cold expression until they walk away. 

Once Jack knows you all aren't in earshot of anyone, he tells Pope, “don't think about doing that shit while you're living with me. Move out first.” 

“Don't worry. I'm not doing anything that will land me back in prison.” Pope smiles right at you as he says, “I'd hate to jeopardize such a nice living situation." 

It's fun to lie through his teeth. Because he knows everything he wants to do will upset the delicate balance between you and Jack. Doesn't mean he won't do it though. 

Like brush his foot up against your ankle under the table. 

The first time, you figure it's an accident. The second time, you know he's doing it on purpose…because he takes a swig of his beer right when you feel his foot trail up your calf. 

Again, it makes you nervous enough to mess up your order when the server comes back for the food order. Pope likes how you look when you're nervous. 

“Can I get another beer?” He tells the server, who nods immediately before quickly walking away. 

“Don't overdo it while we're out.” Jack doesn't want to drag a drunk Pope home. “I have beers at home.” 

“Are you saying I can get drunk at your house?” His words hold a strange weight to them. It's that unease… 

“I'm saying you don't have to drink here.” Jack has to keep Pope in check. That'll prove to be more difficult than he imagined. 

It never crossed Jack's mind that Pope might be tough to deal with. When he had visited Pope in prison, Jack met a very different version of his twin. More timid. A bit hardened. Probably from whatever he was experiencing in there.

Freedom is making Pope act differently than Jack expected. More bold…

You are experiencing that boldness right now. You aren't going to pretend you aren't attracted to Pope. You're very attracted to Jack so…it only makes sense that your body reacts to Pope as well. But you have to nudge his foot away from you. He doesn't bother you again after that. He keeps his gaze on you, though. Because he wants to enjoy looking at you with that shy expression on your face. He finds it so cute. 

Once you're all done eating, Jack pays and then drives you all to a nearby grocery store, since he wants Pope to be able to buy his own groceries. 

You notice how precise everything he buys is. Square bologna. Cheddar cheese slices that are exactly the same size as the bologna. A loaf of sliced bread that is just big enough that the cheese and bologna will be perfectly sandwiched. He buys cereal and milk too. Simple things. He pays with them with the card Jack gave him. 

Pope points to the candy and gum that is always available near the register. “Want anything?” 

“Oh.” You're caught off guard. Maybe that's why you pick a pack of gum and place it on the belt with the rest of Pope's things. “Thank you, Andrew.” 

“You're welcome.” The smile he gives you makes your stomach churn. You can't tell if you like the feeling or not. 

Once he pays, Pope hands you your pack of gum. He intentionally brushes his hand over yours when you take it, making your heart skip a beat. 

“Do you want a piece?” You open it, since you like to chew gum after you've eaten a meal. 

“Sure.” He takes one from the pack.

You turn to Jack, who has been keeping quiet this whole time when the two of you have been interacting casually. “Do you want one?” 

Jack takes a piece. “Thanks.” 

You all chew gum as Jack drives home. It's like a different kind of quiet. Just the sound of gum chewing. Yours is very delicate. Pope is blowing bubbles. Jack chews it with the back of his teeth. 

“Have a good night.” You tell them both before you head down your hallway, which is close to the front door. 

Pope watches you leave and waits until he hears your door close to say to Jack, “are you sleeping with her?” 

“What?” Jack looks his brother in the eye when he answers. “Why are you asking me that?” 

“Do you think she'd sleep with me?” Pope has to be baiting Jack. There's no other reason he would be asking Jack this otherwise. 

“Why would she sleep with you?” Jack hides his irritation. 

“Because we look alike.” Pope meets Jack's eyes. The same hazel eyes that he has. “I bet we fuck the same.” 

“I don't care what you do or who you do it with.” Jack hates that he's lying but he can't say otherwise. “Just don't do anything that will land you back in prison.” 

Pope knows what Jack is implying with his words. “You think I'm going to rape her?” 

“No.” Jack doesn't think so. But he has to ask for his own peace of mind. “Would you?” 

“Nope.” He would only take you willingly. He doesn't want you to look at him with fear in your eyes. Just pleasure. “I told you, I'm not going back to prison for any reason.” 

“I'll hold you to it.” Jack wishes he felt less tense but he can't shake the feeling. 

“Why don't you date her?” Pope keeps pressing Jack to his very limits. 

“I don't want to.” 

“I've always wondered what I look like when I'm lying.” Pope points at Jack's expression. “Must look a lot like that.” 

“Why does it matter to you?” Jack can't hide his frustration anymore. 

“Because if I pursue her, I don't want you getting in my way.” Pope smiles in a way that sends chills down Jack's spine. 

“I won't.” 

“Liar.” Pope pats him on the back. “Have a good night, Jack.” 

Jack watches Pope walk away and when the guest house door shuts, Jack curses under his breath, “motherfucker.” 

Against his best judgment, Jack locks the sliding door. Meaning Pope won't be able to come in until the morning. Then, he goes to rinse off the anger he feels in the shower. But not even a cold shower can settle his mind. 

He knows this is bothering him bad because he feels the phantom ache in his leg. That only happens when he's hung up on something. His mind will always wander to the missing feeling. 

He has to do something about this. 

So, when he's dressed again, Jack heads to your room. He knocks, like he always does, and you open it. 

“Jack?” You weren't expecting to see him again today. “What's—”

Jack grabs a hold of your face, kissing you all of a sudden. He kicks the door shut behind him and then locks it before he starts pulling off your shirt. You don't resist. Because you want him too. 

You just aren't prepared for him to shove you back on the bed with your legs hanging off the edge. He kneels down between your legs, tugging off your pajama pants, leaving you completely naked while he's still fully dressed. Your hand barely has time to grip onto his hair. His mouth is on your clit in an instant, sucking the life out of you. He hasn't been this impatient in a while. 

You cum quicker than usual from it, the sudden aggression turning you on more than you'd like to admit. You can't stop the moan that leaves your lips when his tongue dips inside of you, trying to find that spot that he can flick with the tip of his tongue that makes you scream. 

Once he finds it, you're squirming, the pleasure building too fast. You try to slow him down, “Jack, it's too much, please—”

He doesn't listen. Instead his hand slides up the length of your stomach until he squeezes your breast, rolling his thumb over your nipple. You can't stop yourself from cumming right then. 

Jack won't let you breathe. He stays like that until you're grinding your hips against his face, no longer trying to pretend like you aren't loving this. You usually don't let him spoil you like this. It makes you crave it too much. 

You'll start craving the way he demands, “cum on my face.” 

You do. It's hard not to. He's lapping it up like he hasn't taken a sip of water in ages. There's an intense hunger in his movements. Like he can't get enough of you. 

“Jack, I need a break, please—” You cry out when three of his fingers slide inside of you, curling right up against the spot his tongue was just abusing. “I'm going to—”

“Just cum.” He commands. “Don't think. Don't resist.” 

You listen too easily. Your orgasm is so intense that you squirt on his fingers, drenching his hand. He presses his palm and kneads your clit in response, forcing more out of you. 

“Please, I need—” You can't finish your sentence because you're cumming again.

“What do you need? Say it.” Jack won't stop until you do. 

“Your cock.” You tell him desperately as your pussy squeezes around his fingers. “I need your cock.”

“What do you need my cock for?” He's not letting you off that easily. 

“I need you inside of me.” You plead. “I want you to fuck me.” 

“Beg for it.” He starts moving his fingers violently side to side, making you see stars as you cum harder than you have all night. 

“Please fuck me.” You pant out in your orgasmic haze that's still going on because he simply will not stop fingering you. You don't care how needy you sound as you beg, “please, I need your cock inside of me, I want to cum on your cock, please make me cum on your cock.” 

“Flip over.” He snaps at you to hurry as he pulls his fingers out of you, making your legs shake. “Spread your pussy for me.” 

It's humiliating to be on your knees in bed, with your hand between your legs, spreading yourself wide for him. But you're instantly rewarded with the entire length of his cock ramming deep inside of you. 

“Rub your clit.” He doesn't want you to move your hand away just yet. “I want to feel you cum like a little whore.” 

You muffle your moans into your pillow as you rub your clit while he pounds into you from behind. You're cumming with every thrust, your hand soaked with your own release. You'll have to change your sheets. You see how dark the fabric is where your knees are.

“You're making such a mess.” Jack smacks your ass as punishment, which makes you cum harder. “Do you squirt on every cock that fucks you like this?” 

You shake your head. He sees it. That satisfies a nasty desire of Jack's. The one that wants you all for himself. 

“So just my cock then?” He angles himself more so he can rub up against a deeper spot inside of you. The one that has you gasping for air every time the tip of his cock pounds against it. 

“Yes.” You repeat that word over and over again until you cum. “Oh fuck, Jack, I can't—”

You can't cum anymore. You feel like you'll go dumb if he keeps this up. You're drowning in pleasure. And it won't stop. 

“Please…” You don't know what you're begging for anymore. 

Do you want him to stop or do you want this to last forever? 

You're scared that it's the latter when he tells you, “be my good little whore and keep cumming for me.” 

There's something intoxicating about the way he degrades you and praises you at the same time. You tighten up so much when he talks to you like that. 

You cry out his name when you finally feel him cumming inside of you, filling you up so much that you can feel his cum leaking out of you. You hear his heavy breaths behind you, the sound flooding your mind with desires you shouldn't have. 

Jack pulls out of you and you collapse onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up anymore. You expect him to leave. He usually does once he cums. 

But he doesn't. 

Instead, you feel him pull your back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you. He cradles you like this. You don't know how to feel about it. It's so intimate. 

Especially when he whispers in your ear, “spread your legs.” 

Your legs are so weak but your body listens without a second thought, your legs parting for him. His hand slides down from your stomach before slipping between your open legs. You gasp when his fingers thrust inside of you again. 

“Jack…” You turn your head back to look at him and before you can say anything else, his lips are on yours. 

And now, you don't care about how your actions will look. 

Your arm hooks back, so you can keep his head steady as he kisses you and fingers you at the same time. You moan against his lips when he starts kneading your clit with his palm. You arch your back against him when you're getting close. His other hand grips your breast, playing with your nipple between his fingers. This position makes your mind go hazy from the pleasure. 

You cum while his lips are still on yours. You swear, this is a first. You've never cum while he's kissing you. He doesn't kiss you often. You assumed it was because it was too intimate for your relationship with him. 

But tonight, he wants to kiss you. He wants your tongue to tangle with his as his fingers torture you. He wants you fully focused on him in this moment. 

You feel how hard he's grown again, his cock rubbing against your ass. You want him inside of you again already…

Jack does too. But he needs to hear you say it so he breathes out against your lips, “do you want me to fuck you again?” 

“Yes.” You stare into his eyes, your voice all light and airy. “I always want you.” 

Jack pulls his fingers out of you. His eyes are locked on yours as he licks them clean, making you shiver all over. Then, he lays you down on your back and gets on top of you, much to your surprise. You and Jack rarely do missionary. Again, too intimate…

But you cling onto him when his cock slides back inside of you. This time, he's so slow with his strokes that it's almost agonizing. Like the look on his face. 

Jack is staring down at you like he's afraid to lose you. You reach up, cupping his face in your hands. He leans into your touch. This is the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. 

“Kiss me, Jack.” You can't think of anything else to say that would reassure him that you want him. You can't say the words you want to say, so you hope that's enough.

Jack hooks his arms under you, rolling his hips against yours, fucking you nice and slow as his lips return to yours. The orgasms he pulls out of you now are so gentle but overwhelming at the same time. Because there's a layer of something unspoken. 

Something that doesn't remain unspoken for long. When Jack feels like he's getting close, he pulls away from your lips, looking into your eyes when he says, “if you want me to cum inside of you, promise me something.” 

“Okay.” You nod, waiting for him to tell you what.

It takes all your remaining willpower to keep your expression calm when he tells you, “promise me you won't leave me alone.”

“Oh, Jack.” You trail your fingers along his jaw and he closes his eyes, showing you how much he likes your touch. “I won't leave you alone. I promise.” 

He seals that promise with a kiss and with a few more gentle thrusts, you feel his release inside of you again. You hold onto him because you don't want to let him go. Not after he said that. 

“I don't care what happens.” Jack breathes out, every word warm against your lips. “As long as I get to hold you like this again.” 

It isn't a love confession. It's something else entirely. Something deeper than love. 

The fear of complete loss. 

“You will.” You promise him. “I won't go anywhere. I want to be here.” 

Some might say that Jack should ask for more of you. To ask you for your whole heart. But he doesn't feel worthy of that. So he'll settle for a constant place in your life. A guaranteed place, no matter what.

Jack kisses your forehead. It's so sweet and tender. Then he helps you into your bathroom. He draws you a bath and gently sets you into the tub. 

“Good night.” That's all he says before he leaves you in the tub. 

You don't know how to feel. You want to be happy with this development. He said it in his own way that he wants you. That should make you feel good. 

You sink into the bath, dipping your hand between your legs. You trail along your folds, feeling how sensitive you are after what just happened. You close your eyes, remembering the way Jack's lips felt on yours with his fingers buried inside of you. You can't stop yourself from touching yourself to the memory of it. You cum for the last time tonight, the pleasure making your mind almost as fuzzy as Jack's words did. 

Jack leaves your room but stands there for a while. He doesn't know what that was. What compelled him to do that, to say those words, to want to hear your response to them. His chest aches in an unfamiliar way. 

Then his stomach churns when he sees that the sliding door is unlocked…

Jack definitely locked it before he went to your room. So, how is it unlocked? 

Unless…

Jack glances out to the guest house. He sees that the lights are on through the window in the front. Pope must be in there. 

He is, sitting in his chair, staring out at Jack through the sheer curtains that cover the window. Pope squeezes his fists open and close, over and over, thinking. 

Thinking about how loud you were moaning while Jack was fucking you. How distracted the two of you were that neither of you heard him picking the lock to the sliding door and opening it. How neither of you felt his presence at your door, listening to everything with his hand wrapped around his cock. 

That's the second time he has cum today because of you. 

A trend he is certain will continue.

Life with Pope is interesting. That's the best word you have for it. It's been a week since he started living with you and Jack. The house is spotless. Pope spends most of his day deep cleaning. You haven't seen the wood floors this polished ever. 

It is a bit distracting, however. You usually work on your laptop in the living room but with Pope fussing around, it's hard to focus. But you don't like working in your room because you want to keep work separate from where you sleep.

Pope notices that you can't sit still and tells you, “there's a desk in the guest house. You can use it.” 

That is a good idea. You need to get this edit finished. 

“Thanks.” You follow him out there. 

When he lets you into the guest house, you notice that the chair is nowhere near the desk. The desk is in front of the house but the chair is all the way in the back. He grabs it for you and sets it at the desk. You don't question it and set up your laptop. 

“What do you do for work?” Pope has his hand on the back of the chair, his knuckles brushing along your back. 

You try not to stutter but his hand is distracting, “I-I edit novels.”

“So you read all day?” He lowers his body until his head is hovering over your shoulder, looking at what's on your computer screen. “That looks like a lot of reading.”

“It can be a lot. That's why I work from home.” You can't imagine having to go into the office and drown in text. 

“What kind of novel is this?” He brings the hand that was on your chair forward, draping over your other shoulder, pointing at the screen. 

Pope smiles out of your view at the way your breath catches in your throat in reaction. He has you trapped. Your heart is racing in your chest. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. 

“It's…um…it's a science fiction novel.” You scroll up to show him the synopsis you wrote. 

With how close his head is to your shoulder, you can actually feel his chin move as he mouths the words while he reads. “Interesting. So, what happens? How does it end?”

“Happy ending, of course.” The publishing company you work for specializes in novels that have happy endings. 

Pope turns to look at you. When you turn your head to see what he's doing, you're ill prepared for how close his face is to yours. He smiles before leaning in. You half expect him to kiss you but he brushes his nose against yours instead. A little tease. 

“You should get back to work.” You feel every word of his against your lips. “I'll come back when I'm done cleaning.” 

Pope pulls away, leaving you with your heart pounding in your chest. When the door shuts, you try to shake off what just happened. This isn't the first time Pope has come in close contact with you. 

You've noticed how casually he'll touch you. A hand on your back to move you aside as he walks by. Brushing an eyelash off your face with his thumb. He likes touching you.

And you're worried you like it too…

Ever since that night with Jack, he hasn't visited your room. Is it because the two of you came to an agreement that you won't suddenly leave him? You hate how needy you feel. Especially after having experienced such an intense night. Your body is craving intimacy more than ever. 

Maybe that's why you don't push Pope away when he gets close to you. It's horrible to say but…you like the attention. You like that he has his eyes on you whenever you're in the same room as him. It makes you feel wanted. Something you thought Jack was going to make you feel after that night. 

But he has been so busy working. He has been at the hospital every day this week due to a staffing shortage. So you can't really blame him. He can't give you the attention you crave, even if he'd want to. He's exhausted by the time he comes home. 

It's why Jack can't commit to a relationship. Because if he knew someone was waiting at home for him, it would kill him inside. He doesn't know that you are always waiting for him. Or, he just chooses not to believe it.

You finish editing the novel when it's well into the evening. Jack has probably left for work already after sleeping all day. Pope still hasn't come to check on you. Not that you're waiting for him to come back…

You finally close your laptop, leaning back in the chair, sighing. That was the last big project you had to do for work. The next few days should be a lot lighter, mainly fixing small mistakes that the proofreaders caught. You'll get a bit of a break until they've sent in the errors they find. 

You walk out of the guest house to…Pope and Jack having a pretty heated discussion. Neither of them notice that you're watching. They're standing in the kitchen. The sliding door is open just a tad, which is why you can hear everything they're saying.

And you are in utter shock.

“You work too much.” Pope tells Jack. “She's getting lonely.”

“What does this have to do with you?” Jack has been hearing the same shit from Pope all week. 

Pope just shrugs in response. “Maybe I don't like seeing her all mopey.” 

“She is not…” Jack bites back a curse word. This is exactly what he was afraid of and someone is finally confronting him about it. He does not like it one bit. “I can't control how she feels.”

“You can control how you act.” 

Jack is tired of Pope's bullshit. 

“Is that what you're doing? When you stand outside her bedroom at night?” His words finally crack the nonchalant facade Pope has been trying to maintain. He pushes further. “I know you unlock the sliding door at night. I know what you do, Pope.” 

“What do I do?” Pope snaps back, walking up to Jack to confront him face to face, his aura threatening. “Tell me.” 

Jack doesn't want to say it. But he has seen Pope outside of your room, just staring at your door. It's why Jack hasn't been coming to your room. He doesn't want to give Pope material to jerk off to. He doesn't want your private moments with him to be heard. Because he cannot keep Pope out. 

There's not a lock on Earth that would be able to keep Pope from you. 

Jack glances down at his watch. “I'm late for work.” 

And that's all he says before he leaves. 

Jack doesn't notice that you're standing there, in disbelief. But Pope notices. His eyes shift to you and your heart stops. Then, it starts to pound loudly in your chest when he makes his way over to you. 

“Did you hear everything?” Pope knows you did. You wouldn't have such a surprised expression if you hadn't. 

“I-I…” You can't find the words to say. You just swallow the lump in your throat.

“How does it make you feel?” He steps closer to you and you don't back away. You're frozen in place as he says, “knowing that I've heard you touch yourself so desperately these last few nights?” 

A wave of shame and embarrassment floods over you. There's a reason you picked that specific room in the house. It's the furthest room from Jack's. Meaning, you can touch yourself while calling out Jack's name and he would never know. You checked the soundproofing. He would have to be pressed up against the door to hear you and Jack would never do that. 

But Pope would. 

“What does he do to you that makes you scream his name when you make yourself cum?” Pope closes the space between the two of you and you choke on your own breath when he asks you, “how do I get you to do that for me?” 

“Please don't tell him.” You can't have Jack knowing this. It's not something you're proud of… 

“He doesn't know how lucky he is.” Pope reaches forward, cupping your cheek with his cold hand. You don't even flinch. Because his touch is like an alternative version of Jack's. A bit more jagged, but so similar. 

“Lucky?” You don't get what Pope is saying. 

So he explains, “it would be a privilege to have you scream my name like that while you're feeling good. How did Jack get so lucky to have a beautiful woman do that for him?” 

You place your hands on his chest, using your laptop as a makeshift barrier. You don't push him away but you don't pull him closer. You're building a wall between you and Pope. Because you're scared what will happen if one of you leans in. 

You don't think you'd be able to resist. 

So you keep your hands on his chest, giving you just the space of your elbows. If he gets any closer, you'd feel his body heat too much. It makes you dizzy…

“Are you scared of me?” Pope asks and his question confuses you. 

“No.” You shake your head. “That's not…” 

“You are afraid of me.” He tells you, his words piercing you in unspeakable ways. “You're afraid of me making you feel good.” 

Now that the truth is in the air, you're more overwhelmed than you were a few moments ago. It's like he caught you red-handed. He did catch you red-handed…

“Why were you outside my door?” You look him in the eyes when you ask, “did you want to come in?” 

“I could've.” You don't lock your door. Not like that would've deterred him if you wanted him to be there. He'd pick that lock in a heartbeat. 

“You didn't.” You don't know what you would've done if Pope opened your door while you had a toy buried inside of you, fucking yourself with it. 

“Would you have wanted me to?” He doesn't move closer. He wants you to do it. He wants to see you give in to your desire. 

You take your hands off of him then, taking a step back. 

Because you were about to say yes. 

You try to ground yourself, clenching onto your laptop tighter. 

You're getting swept up in Pope. 

That's why you need to say, “you're only interested in me because of Jack. Whatever you feel for me, it'll pass.” 

It always does. You have been in enough shitty relationships to know that no one has ever stayed interested in you. Especially not when you start to let yourself crave more of them. They always back away then. Calling you needy, unbearable, tiring. 

At least with Jack, you know where you stand. He's not stringing you along. You feel secure in your relationship with Jack. 

You don't feel secure in your relationship with Pope. You feel like you would drown in his affection. Something you are more than desperate for. But you can't take that risk. 

It'll only hurt you more later.

His response makes you ache all over, “I'm interested in why Jack is willing to risk losing you to someone else. I wouldn't take that risk. I would've made you mine ages ago.” 

You shake your head. “You wouldn't. Trust me, I…”

You wrap your arms around your middle, clutching your laptop like a shield, pain sweeping over you. It's a familiar feeling. Heartache. 

“I'm just a good fuck.” You tell him, choking back the sob that threatens to leave your lips. “I'm not anything more than that.” 

But you saying that does not dissuade him at all. 

Instead, Pope steps closer. He has decided that you won't be able to make the first move. You won't allow yourself to. 

“You never answered my question.” He grabs a hold of your chin, making you look him in the eyes as he repeats himself, “would you have wanted me to come into your bedroom while you were touching yourself and give you what you really want?” 

You can't hide from the intensity of his stare. You can't run away. Your body has gone completely rigid. 

Because you can't say no. 

Why can't you just say no? 

Tell him no! 

Pope licks his lips as his thumb brushes across your lower lip. Your whole body quivers in response. Just from a small touch…meaning you won't survive more than this. He'll corrupt you completely.

“If you say no, I won't bother you ever again.” He gently caresses your cheek before trailing his hand down to rest at the nape of your neck. His thumb glides along the column of your throat, making it hard for you to breathe. Though maybe it's his words that make you breathless. “If that's what you really want. I promise, you will never have to interact with me again.” 

That same heartache from before stabs into you like a dull blade. You've never experienced this before. Someone willing to give up their affection because you said so. Usually, you're the one doing that. The one who has to let go even when you don't want to because they don't feel anything for you anymore. 

Pope feels something for you. Enough for him to suppress it at your command. 

So, tell him. Tell him that you don't want him. Tell him so that he can leave you like everyone else has. 

Tell him the truth. 

“I don't want that.” You can't take back the words once they leave your lips. “I don't want you to leave me alone.” 

All of a sudden, you understand exactly what Jack felt the other day…

“What do you want?” Pope leans in closer, now that he knows you're willing. “I'll do whatever you want.” 

“I don't know.” That's the truth. You really don't know. 

“Do you want to know what I want?” He pulls you closer to him by your neck. It's gentle and forceful at the same time. 

You can't speak. You can only nod. 

“I want…” Pope leans in, his lips resting on the shell of your ear as he whispers, “you, underneath me, screaming my name instead of his. Would you like that?” 

Again, you can't speak. 

And again, you can only nod…

“Good girl.” He gives you a kiss on the forehead. “I'm glad you can be honest.” 

You feel a mixture of fear and excitement. Fear that you'll enjoy this too much. Excited for it to happen regardless. 

Pope smiles at you, at the bashful face you're making. He basks in the desire in your eyes. “Where do you want me?” 

You can't answer because you're unsure if you could take him to your bedroom. It would be impossible not to think about him if the two of you slept together on your bed. You'd relive the memory every time you lay down. That's what happened with Jack. 

“I don't know.” You're so nervous right now. 

“Let's go to the guest house then.” Pope decides for the two of you. That way, he can reminisce about you every time he lays down in bed. It might actually make him want to sleep in bed. 

He puts his hand out for you to hold. You take it and follow behind him as he walks you back to the guest house. You set your laptop back down on the desk.

Then, when your hands are finally free, Pope comes up to you, his eyes taking you in completely. You're so beautiful to him. He knows you'll be even more stunning without any clothes on. 

But you press your hands against his chest when he tries to come closer. He looks at you, puzzled. You swallow your nerves to tell him, “can I use your shower?” 

You've been sitting at a desk all day, mulling over words on a screen. You're sweaty and you don't want him to touch you for the first time when you're not clean. 

“Can we use it together?” Pope wouldn't mind a nice shower. 

“Okay.” You and Jack have never done that before. Only baths, since he can't stand in the shower. He probably could with his prosthetic but he prefers not to get it wet if he doesn't need to. 

“Can I take off your clothes?” Pope wants to be the one that undresses you.

You nod, letting him come close again. His hands hold onto the hem of your shirt and you lift your arms so he can pull it off of you. He does the same, pulling off his shirt, so you don't feel alone. 

It's actually crazy how similar him and Jack look. Even their bodies are only slightly different. The main difference being how much more intimidating Pope carries himself. 

Pope rests his hands on your hips before he pulls your pants off of you. You step out of them, leaving yourself in just your bra and underwear. He takes off his pants, leaving him in only his boxer briefs. You try not to notice that he's hard. 

“Turn around.” Pope instructs and you listen. He unhook your bra and then gently pulls down the straps one at a time, making you shiver all over from the soft touches. 

He steps closer to you, close enough that you can feel his hard cock against your back. His hands slide down from your stomach to the waistband of your underwear. 

Then, he whispers in your ear, “you don't have to wear these anymore. It would be easier to fuck you whenever I want if you went without.” 

He pulls them off of you at that moment, letting you stand there, stunned by his words. You know he has pulled his off because the heat of his bare cock is back on your back. He feels big. Jack's is pretty big. 

Could they really be that similar? 

“We should head into the shower.” He says to you, pressing a kiss against your bare shoulder. “Before I can't control myself any longer.” 

Pope takes your hand and guides you into the shower. He turns it on, shielding you from the cold water that sprays out first. You take that instance to look down at his cock. 

He catches you. “Are you comparing us in your mind?” 

You definitely are. They're about the same size but different in one very distinct way. Pope is uncut. You can't remember the last time you fucked someone with foreskin. You're a bit surprised by that. 

“You might as well touch it if you're going to keep staring that hard." Pope takes your hand and wraps it around his cock. “Go ahead, touch me.” 

You stroke up the length of his cock until you reach the tip. You like how hot it feels in your hand. You also like the look on Pope's face when you start to move your hand. He grabs your wrist, stopping you. 

“If you keep doing that, I'll fuck you right here.” He isn't going to cum until he's buried inside of you. 

You pull your hands away from him. He hands you a bar of soap. You wash your body while he does the same. You don't get your hair wet, thanks to him shielding you from the shower until you're ready to rinse your body. 

“Thank you.” You appreciate his consideration. 

“Can you say my name when you thank me?” He wants to hear his name from your lips more often. 

“Thank you, Andrew.” You tell him as he helps you dry off with a towel. 

Then, he takes your hand again and walks you over towards the bed. It doesn't look like it has been touched at all. 

Where has he been sleeping? The floor? 

You can't think straight anymore when he pushes your back up against the wall and closes the space between the two of you. There's so much warmth radiating off of him after the shower. It's making every breath you take heavy.

You try to ignore the way his cock rests against your lower stomach, throbbing. You can't ignore the way Pope cups your face with his hands before he kisses you for the first time. You're taken back by how gentle his kisses are. Perhaps you judged him prematurely. You expected him to be more aggressive. 

You haven't been touched like this in a long time. Like you're precious to him. Like he's afraid that one wrong move will turn you off. 

“Your lips are so soft.” He says, nipping at your bottom lip lightly with his teeth. “I could kiss you all day.” 

“Would you?” You look at his lips, reaching up to touch them. 

“Are you saying you'd let me?” He leans in again, kissing you once more. The butterflies are dancing around in your stomach. 

“I wouldn't stop you.” You wouldn't stop Jack either. But he never has. Will Pope? 

“I understand now.” He starts to kiss down the side of your neck, feeling the way his words make you shiver, “you like being used whenever, wherever.” 

His hands slide down to your waist, holding you against the wall as his lips make their way down to your collarbone. He kisses along the length of it and the gentleness of it is driving you wild. 

Especially when his words don't match his actions. “Have you always been a ready and available hole for Jack?” 

“Yes.” You don't hide it. You like when he would just fuck you wherever you were in the house. 

“Will you be that for me?” His lips trail lower, hovering over your breasts. He just stares at them, refusing to touch them. He's purposefully avoiding the areas that make you feel good. 

Pope likes the build up. You're squirming from it, and his question. 

You only nod in response, giving into your desire. If he wants to use your body, you're ready and willing. You hope he actually does it. But he keeps his hands away from anywhere sensitive. It's killing you…

“Please touch me, Andrew.” You can't stand waiting any longer. 

“I am touching you.” He smiles, resting his hands on your shoulders. “See?” 

“That's not…” You gasp when his hands slide to meet in the middle, closing around your neck. 

“Do you not like these touches?” His thumbs press down on the center of your throat. Any air you breathe in is trapped right there. Your body is trembling. 

Pope gently spreads your legs apart with his thigh, pushing it right up against your pussy. You're embarrassed by how wet you are from this. Surely he can feel it on his thigh now.

“Let me see you cum like this.” He tells you, gesturing to his thigh between your legs. “Grind those hips like the whore you are.” 

He heard. He must've heard you and Jack. He knows how much you like being degraded and humiliated…

You nearly cum just from that. You don't hide anything anymore. You show him how needy you are, grinding against his thigh, desperate to cum. The friction against your clit is incredible. The way Pope is staring at you is electric.

You lift your hands up to wrap around his wrists and for a moment, he expects you to tug his hands off your neck. But instead, you pull him closer, wanting him to choke you. He's never wanted someone so badly before, his cock throbbing like crazy. 

Pope applies more pressure, forcing your eyes to roll back in your head. You can't breathe. You're still grinding against his thigh, getting closer and closer to your release. 

Then, he whispers in your ear, “cum right now or I'll snap your neck.” 

His hands squeeze your throat harder, his threat apparent. You cum all over his thigh in an instant, choking on your own moans. You ride his thigh through your orgasm, wanting it to last longer. 

All the while, Pope has the loveliest smile on his face. When you've come down from your high, he lets your neck go and returns to holding your face tenderly, kissing you with so much sweetness. The contrast sends such shock waves through you. You can't tell which side of him you like more…

“You did very well.” He praises you, your heart skipping a beat in response. “Now lay down for your reward.” 

Pope likes how obedient you are. You lay down right away on the bed, hands clasped over your stomach, patiently waiting. He can see now why Jack keeps you here. 

Why would anyone let you go? 

“Are you comfortable?” He climbs on top of you. “Do you need another pillow?”

You shake your head. There's tension coiling in your stomach because you have no idea what's going to happen next. You don't know what a reward looks like from Pope. 

It starts with him finally cupping your breasts with both of his hands, grasping them firmly. You bite back a whimper when he rolls his thumbs over your nipples. A few more swipes and they're nice and hard for him, so he leans in and takes one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. 

Then, he trails lower, kissing a line down your stomach until he's between your legs. His eyes are locked on yours when his tongue drags up along your folds until he reaches your clit. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue and you can't hold in your voice anymore. 

“Andrew.” His name comes out all raspy from your lips as your orgasm builds from him playing with your clit in his mouth. 

The expression on his face is pure delight. He loves how you say his name when you're about to cum. He needs to hear it more. So he takes his time, learning what makes you rasp out his name, not letting you cum. 

You wouldn't consider this a reward. This is more like torture. He keeps edging you, bringing you so close to cumming only to pull away at the last second. 

“Please, Andrew.” You can't take it anymore. “I want to cum.” 

He knows that. He can tell from how much slick has built up. He can probably slide right into you right now. But he won't.

“What's the rush?” He says, placing a kiss on your inner thigh. “We have all night.” 

This is different from the sex you've had with Jack. Usually, it's hot and intense. There's no stalling anything. If he wants to fuck you, he does. 

With Pope, he just spent years in prison. He's not looking to do anything quickly. He has to savor everything now that he's free. 

“Just let me cum once.” You barter because you can't handle getting so close and then not going over the edge. 

“You already came once. Don't tell me you forgot.” He smirks. 

You're so frustrated right now. The denial is making you insatiable. You want to cum. You want to cum a lot. But he won't let you. 

“I thought I was supposed to get a reward.” You whine because you have no other options. 

“You're right.” He says, his gaze shifting down to your core. “I did say you'd get a reward.” 

You scream the moment two of his fingers thrust inside of you without warning. You're not ready at all for the sudden burst of stimulation, his fingers curling inside of you until your body is shaking.

“Wait, wait, wait—” You try to move away, to try to stop yourself from bursting at the seams.

But then he locks his lips around your clit and starts to suck, pressing his fingers upwards inside of you right below it, and you cum hard. So hard that you squirt and it won't stop. His fingers are relentless. He slips another one in, stretching you out, watching as your back arches in response. Your body wants him deeper. 

But your mind is completely blank. The pleasure fogging all your senses. You haven't stopped cumming. 

“Andrew!” You plead for him to give you a break. “Please, I can't keep—”

Pope watches your body convulse from the consecutive orgasms. He just stares at you, at how utterly helpless you are. Your pussy is squeezing his fingers so tightly, he can't possibly let go. 

Unless… “It's either my fingers or my cock. Which would you prefer?” 

You answer almost too fast, “your cock, please.” 

“Are you on birth control?” Either way, he's going in raw. 

You nod, craving him inside of you. He pulls his fingers free then presses down on your lower stomach. He licks his lips when you cum again from the pressure, drenching the sheets beneath you. He can't help himself. He leans in, having a taste. 

You grab a hold of his head and hold him there, angling yourself so he can give you another orgasm before he fucks you. Because you wanted a reward for enduring that. 

You rest your hands on his shoulders when he climbs back up over you, lining his cock up at your entrance. You spread your legs wider, so it's easier for him. 

“Jack is the stupidest man alive.” Pope says to you bluntly. “Because why would he ever let someone else fuck you when you're this perfect?” 

You dig your nails into his skin when his cock pushes inside of you. You're so wet that he hilts with ease, your hips meeting his. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer to you. 

Pope closes his eyes. He wants to etch this feeling to memory. The very first time your pussy squeezes around his cock. 

“Andrew?” You reach up to caress his face, running your fingers along his jaw. “Are you okay?” 

He opens his eyes, staring down at you. You've never seen this look before. Not even on Jack's face. It's darker, more intense. 

Because the only thought in his mind right now is that he wants to own you. You're his to use as he pleases. 

His. 

“How do you like it?” He asks, rolling his hips. “Nice and slow or do you want me to fuck your brains out?” 

You bite your lip, not wanting to rush your answer. How do you like it? 

“Use me.” You tell him. “For your pleasure.” 

And just like that, you show him again how perfect you are. 

You hold in a whine when he pulls out of you. Pope snaps at you, “where's your vibrator?” 

You feel a surge of heat run through you. “It's in my room.” 

“Go get it for me.” He likes how you stare back up at him, all desperate and confused. Because you were expecting him to fuck you. “The faster you get it, the quicker I'll be back inside of you.” 

“Can I borrow a shirt?” You look over the closet in the room. “Please?” 

You've never been fully naked other than in your bedroom and now here. Usually if Jack fucks you out in the open, you're still semi-dressed. 

“Only because you said please.” He gestures for you to grab whatever you need. 

You quickly throw on a shirt and then head back to your room. You're tensing up from the thrill of walking through Jack's house, dripping between your legs from how hard Pope made you cum. Your heart is beating so loud in your ears by the time you're back at the guest house with your vibrator.

Pope puts his hand out and you set it in his grasp. He examines it, imagining what it must've looked like when you were fucking yourself with it when you thought no one could hear you. It's a pretty simple design. Slightly curved, thicker head, smooth. 

“Lay back down.” Pope pats the bed next to him.

You do as he says and he climbs back on top of you. You don't hold back the sigh of relief when he buries his cock back inside of you. You can't hold in your voice when he turns on the vibrator and presses it against your clit. Your whole body shivers in response at the sudden stimulation. 

Pope isn't moving at all. He's just waiting to see how you'll react, holding the vibrator steady with one hand and pinning you down to the bed by your lower stomach with the other. 

You're gripping the sheets beneath you, trying to hold yourself still. But your body is shaking like crazy. Tears are building in the corner of your eyes. The intensity of the vibration on your clit, the pressure of his hand pressing down over his cock inside of you, the way he's stretching you out, buried deep, everything altogether is too much. 

The moment you cum, it's impossible to stop. Pope stares at you with that intense gaze of his as you cum over and over again, your body writhing beneath him like you've been possessed. And he hasn't even fucked you yet. 

“I need a—” You need a break, your clit is so overstimulated. “I need—”

Pope turns the vibration up and you explode. You're cumming so hard that your vision goes blurry. 

That's when he starts pounding into you. You're screaming his name, shoving at him, trying to get him off of you. Because if he keeps fucking you like this, you're going to go crazy. You won't be able to resist wanting this again. 

“Andrew, you have to stop, I'm going to—” You pinch your eyes shut, tears dripping down your face as the next orgasm is drilled into you with how hard he's thrusting. 

“I'll stop if you tell me “we can't do this, Andrew. He's your brother. I can't betray your brother.”” Pope's twisted desires flood out when he feels how tight your pussy gets when he tells you that. “Say it.”

“Oh god.” You're clawing at his chest, squirting on his cock when you scream, “please, Andrew! We can't do this. He's your brother. I can't—”

Pope slams into you harder, your toes curling in response to him driving so deep into you, “you can't what? You can't believe you're cumming this hard on my cock instead of his?” 

“Yes.” You drag your nails down his chest the moment he turns the vibration to the highest setting. You're an absolute mess after that. You try to get him to stop but he keeps ramming his cock into you over and over again, kneading your stomach, forcing you to be all too aware of how deep he is inside of you.

Pope wants to make sure you never forget how he can make you feel. That you memorize the shape of his cock pounding into you. That you remember every time you use your vibrator how he used it on you.

He wants to make sure the name that crosses your mind you cum is his, not Jack's. 

“Beg for it.” He's getting close but wants to hear you want him. “Like you're my whore, not his.” 

“Please cum inside of me, Andrew.” You're going to unravel completely when he does. You know it. “I need you to. I can't cum unless you do. I don't deserve to cum unless you do.” 

Your pussy squeezes him to death. You're holding it in. You won't cum unless he does. 

You really are perfect. 

Pope hasn't cum that hard in ages. He's surprised at how much spills out of him. You are too, because the more he releases inside of you, the harder you cum. It doesn't help that he's still abusing your clit with the vibrator. You're never going to cum from normal sex again. He's ruined you…

He pulls out of you, but then slides the vibrator down. You gasp when he thrusts it inside of you. You're not prepared to feel the intense vibration in your thoroughly fucked pussy. You can't breathe when you feel the vibration push up against your womb where he just came. It makes you all too aware of how warm it is, trapped inside of you by your toy. 

“Andrew, take it out.” You push at his arm as your orgasm builds too quickly and you're scared of what might happen if you let yourself cum from this. “Please, take it out!”

“No.” He shakes his head at you and starts fucking you with the vibrator instead. “You told me to use you for my pleasure. That's what I'm doing.” 

Because Pope will feel incredible the moment you completely give in. The moment you shed that shame and embarrassment and just show him the most depraved side of yourself. 

He's showing you his right now. The sadistic need of his to torture you. 

And you're showing him how much you love being just a plaything. How it satisfies something unspeakable inside of you. 

“Hold this for me.” Pope moves your hand to the vibrator. “I need to get my phone.” 

Jack had given him a phone and he hasn't used it yet. He needs to right now. Because he wants to be able to watch back this moment whenever he wants. 

You keep the vibrator inside of you. You should pull it out. You should…but Pope told you to hold it. And you're a good listener. 

He hits the record button, taking a video of you writhing against his bed with the vibrator held inside your pussy. He takes it from you then, keeping his camera hand steady as he drives the vibrator into you over and over again until you're squirting all over the bed with every thrust. You're screaming his name now and he has it all on video. 

You can't think straight anymore. Your body has a mind of its own, obsessed with the pleasure of it all that you don't have a care in the world anymore.

You're just his to use. That's all. 

Pope pulls the vibrator out of you, turning it off and tossing it aside, then sinks his now hard cock back inside of you. He smiles when he sees how you've stopped resisting. “Look at you, grinding your hips on me like a whore.” 

You can't help yourself. You don't want to stop cumming, especially now that his cock is back inside of you. 

You grab his hand, wrapping it around your neck. “Punish me for being such a whore.” 

Pope grips harder, moving his phone closer so he can record how tight his grip is around your throat. Then, he shows the camera the face you're making in response. Pure bliss. 

You have your hands around his wrist, holding him to you, not wanting him to pull away as he pounds into you exactly the way you like it. Without any air coming in or out, your moans are getting caught in your throat. The thrill of being completely at his control makes every orgasm he drags out of you a million times more intense. 

And it only picks up when he demands, “tell me that you don't want to betray Jack.” 

He loosens his grip on your throat and slows his thrusts, giving you ample space to breathe out, “please, Andrew. We shouldn't be doing this. I-I don't want to betray Jack.” 

You feel Pope's cock twitching like crazy inside of you. He's more aroused than he has ever been. He feels like he could burst at any moment. 

He nearly does when you say, “please get off of me. You're scaring me, Andrew.”

Pope growls back, choking you again all of a sudden, “good. Be scared of how hard you're going to cum on my cock. Don't forget to scream my name when you do.” 

The moment he's fucking you again, you're clutching the sheets, your back arched, your orgasm causing your body to spasm uncontrollably. His name leaves your lips in strangled gasps. He can feel every attempt you make to scream it on his palm clasped around your throat. It drives him wild. 

“Give me your hand.” He demands for you to let go of the sheets and hands you back the vibrator. “You know what to do, my little whore.” 

You turn it on and press it against your clit as he pounds into you until you feel his hot release spill deep inside. Then, when he pulls out of you, you slide the vibrator down, slipping it inside of you, trapping his cum right where he wants it. 

You're not ready for him to hover over you, throwing his phone away so he can press both of his hands over your throat, strangling you. His lower body holds the vibrator steady inside of you as he squeezes. 

You start clawing at his arms, digging your nails in hard, scraping down his flesh. He revels in the pain, in knowing you're the one doing it to him. 

“I want you to cum so hard that you'll never forget this night for the rest of your life.” Pope demands to be one of the memories you touch yourself to. 

You do exactly as he wishes. Your eyes roll back, your toes curl, your stomach twists and you cum so hard the vibrator pops out of you from the sheer force of it, landing in the space between you and Pope. He frees you from his grip and you swallow in air, shivering all over. Then, you're clinging onto him, the shockwaves still surging through you from how intense that was. He turns off the vibrator and sets it aside, so he can memorize the sound of your heavy breaths. 

Pope cradles you, laying you down against his chest, and you crumble in his hold, feeling incredibly vulnerable. He gently rubs your back, soothing you slowly. He waits until your breathing has returned to normal and your heart isn't beating out of your chest to lift your chin up to look at him. 

He brushes his thumb across your lower lip, admiring how beautiful you look all dazed like this. Then he leans in, kissing you. You melt into his kiss completely. 

“Good job.” He praises you, giving your forehead a light peck. “You did really well for me. That was incredible.” 

It gives you a different kind of pleasure to hear that. You never thought knowing you did a good job in bed would make the butterflies in your stomach dance so happily. 

“Was that okay?” He moves your head side to side, checking your neck. “I hope I didn't hurt you.” 

“I'm good.” You feel bad for being surprised that Pope is caring. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover. “Thank you for checking up on me, Andrew.”

“I know I have…strange tastes.” He wasn't expecting you to fulfill his fantasies so readily. 

Pope will never let you go now. Jack will have to kill him to keep him from you. 

“Then I guess I have strange tastes too.” You say back shyly, admitting out loud that you thoroughly enjoyed all of that. 

“I can delete the video, if you want me to.” He would prefer not to. He'll keep it in an encrypted folder on his phone, so no one has access to it but him. 

“You don't have to. Just don't show anyone…” You shouldn't say this next part but…you do anyways, “except Jack.”

Pope doesn't hide his devilish smirk. “You want him to see it?” 

“Is that…bad?” You don't know where the boldness comes from.

Maybe it's because you want Jack to feel a bit threatened. You promised to never leave him alone, but you never promised you'd make staying easy for him. 

“You're asking me to test my brother.” Pope draws a line down your side, the casual touching so intimate as he tells you, “you realize I want you for myself, right?” 

“I guess you'll have to fight him for me.” You present a challenge because you suddenly have a surge of confidence. 

You know exactly where you stand with both of them. 

And you want them to push it to the limit. 

Jack has never been this angry before. Not even after the incident that made him lose half his leg. He is genuinely more pissed right now than he has ever been.

Because he comes home from a long shift and when his eyes glance out to the guest house, he sees your silhouette behind that sheer curtain getting railed by Pope. 

You're pressed up against the window with only the fabric of the curtain covering you up, as Pope fucks you from behind. You and Pope went straight to sleep once you were all washed up again after the night you two had and then the moment you woke up, he was between your legs. You haven't had a second to breathe since your eyes opened. And now your body is pushed up against cold glass and you can see Jack through the curtain staring right at you. 

“Let him watch.” Pope says all low in your ear. “He'll fuck you better later if he sees us.” 

He doesn't pretend not to notice how tight you get when he says that. You cum way too easily at the thrill of what Jack might do to you once you see him after this. 

Jack storms off to his bedroom, the rage boiling inside of him. He got a text from Pope he has yet to open. Because it had an encrypted link to a video. And from what Pope texted him, it wasn't a video he could view at work. 

Pope: I promise I didn't rape her. She told me to send this to you. Enjoy, brother. 

Against his best judgment, Jack opens the video. He told himself he should just delete it without watching it. But when he sees the preview picture on his screen, he clicks the video too quickly. 

Then, he tosses his phone aside and storms out to the guest house. The door isn't locked so he swings it open. Pope has you pressed down against the bed, still fucking you from behind. Neither of you are facing the door, but both of you definitely heard Jack come in. 

“Get off of her right now, Pope.” Jack practically prowls up to you two, glaring. “Move.” 

Pope doesn't listen because you're squeezing his cock so hard now that you know Jack's watching. So, he does the exact opposite. He pounds into you faster, until you're screaming his name and the freshly washed sheets are now stained once again. Then, Pope pulls out of you and cums all over your back, marking you. You shiver all over when you feel the warmth hit your back. 

“She's all yours.” Pope steps aside, sitting down on the bed. “I even left her pussy clear for you. Aren't I a good brother?” 

“I should fucking kill you.” Jack can't contain the anger. 

“You've got a gun. Go ahead.” Pope invites him to. “But I think our roommate would miss me if you shot me. Isn't that right?”

Pope reaches over, smacking your ass. You bite back a moan in response, which is enough of an answer. 

Jack flips you over onto your back so you can see the death glare on his face as he spits out, “is this what you want?” 

“No.” You sit up and then reach forward, immediately unbuckling his belt. “This is what I want.”

You're through pretending you aren't obsessed with him. You want him to know exactly how much you want him. 

Jack is so stunned that he doesn't stop you from pulling his hard cock out of his pants. You lean forward, taking him into your mouth with ease, despite how big he is. You swallow him whole, your lips humming at the base of his cock. You've missed his taste. 

You feel him throb in your mouth when Pope asks Jack, “so were you hard from watching me fuck her or did you open that video I sent you?” 

“Shut the fuck up and get me that vibrator.” Jack snaps at Pope and then grabs the back of your head, forcing more of himself down your throat. Your eyes are watering now as he fucks your face. “Get on your fucking knees and take it.” 

You kneel on the bed without hesitation and Pope knows exactly what Jack wants from him. He grabs the vibrator, turning it on before thrusting it into your pussy. You moan around Jack's cock, allowing him to stuff even more of himself down your throat. You gag but your tongue keeps swirling around him and your mouth keeps sucking. 

“Your mouth is like a pussy.” He degrades you exactly how you like it, sending such a thrill through you. “What a fucking whore. Spreading your legs for my brother of all people.” 

That's enough for you to cum hard enough to squirt and launch the vibrator out of your pussy. His cock muffles your scream from the sudden loss and the wet feeling dripping down your thighs. Pope chuckles at your humiliation. 

“You've got to keep it in you.” He pushes the vibrator back inside, making your toes curl when he increases the vibration and starts thrusting it at the same rhythm as Jack is fucking your mouth. 

Jack can't last much longer. He hasn't fucked you in a week. He needs to cum. 

But not without establishing your punishment first. “I'm going to cum in your mouth and you are going to keep it there. No swallowing. No spitting. Got it?” 

You nod, and the moment he coats the back of your throat with his release, you squirt all over Pope's hand while he fucks you with the vibrator through your orgasm. You don't swallow as Jack pulls himself out of your mouth and tucks his cock back into his pants. He grabs you by the chin, lifting you up to look at him. 

“Show me.” Jack demands. 

You open your mouth, letting him see that it's filled with his cum. He spits in your mouth then closes it for you. Your body convulses in response and you nearly cum from that action alone. 

“Turn it off.” Jack tells Pope, who listens, turning off the vibrator. “But keep it there.” 

Pope is enjoying this a lot. He likes seeing the look on Jack's face. Because that's the look on his face when he's in that exact mood. 

Jack turns his attention back to you. “Listen to me carefully. We're going to watch you cum hard enough to push that vibrator out. Only then do you get to swallow. Got it?” 

You nod, the taste of Jack in your mouth numbing your mind. You lay back, letting both men watch you as you turn back on the vibrator and start fucking yourself with it. You're grinding your hips to the rhythm, already getting close from how heated their gazes are. 

Because their eyes are on you, you give them a show, grabbing a hold of your breast and pinching your nipple between your fingers. You moan with a full mouth, wishing it wasn't full of cum but with a cock instead. 

“God, she's perfect.” Pope says, staring at you, his cock already getting hard again. “You really let me fuck her?” 

“You're lucky I'm letting you.” Jack knows it's either this or you having to pick between one of them. And Jack won't take the risk that you'll pick Pope, so sharing you is the best case scenario. 

“Don't let anyone else, okay?” 

“Fuck no.” Jack will not give you to anyone else. “She's ours and that's it.” 

When you hear that, your whole body tenses then explodes.

The vibrator launches out of you as you soak the bed again with how hard you squirt and you swallow right after so you can tell them, “please fuck me. I want to be all yours, both of yours.” 

“Then get that pretty mouth over here.” Pope sits up against the headboard, his cock ready for your mouth to sink down on. “I've already enjoyed her pussy today. You should have a taste, Jack.” 

Jack watches you crawl over to Pope on the bed. You lean down, dragging your tongue up along the base of his shaft. He grabs a hold of you by your hair as you close your lips around the tip of his cock, groaning when you start to suck. 

The temperature in the room rises to the point where Jack needs to strip off his clothes before climbing onto the bed. He grips your hips and then buries his face into your pussy, dipping his tongue right in. You moan on Pope's cock and he pushes more of himself down your throat in response. 

“Pay attention to the cock you're sucking or I'll start fucking your face.” Pope's meaner tone heats your skin up and you focus more on making him feel good. “Good girl.” 

Jack doesn't make it easy for you, though. He's tormenting your clit with the way he slides into you then pulls out to drag the tip of his tongue along your clit before slipping back in. It's so inconsistent that your legs are shaking from the denial. 

“You aren't allowed to cum.” Jack smacks your ass when he says that and you gag on Pope's cock, making him laugh darkly at you. “Not until he shoots his load down your throat. Hold it until then.” 

That proves to be a challenge because Jack thrusts three fingers into you and starts moving them in that side to side motion that has you tearing up. You want to cum so bad but Pope is nowhere close to his release. 

Not until you move your mouth off his cock and look him in the eyes as you say, “don't let me cum from Jack's fingers. Make me cum from your cock fucking my mouth, Andrew.” 

It's like a switch flipped in Pope. He slams you back down onto his cock, burying himself deep down your throat before he starts rolling his hips, fucking you just like you asked. You're gagging and crying but you're in heaven from how full you feel on both ends and how close you are to what you know will be one of the best orgasms of your life. 

“Keep my cum in your mouth like you did for Jack.” Pope instructs and you nod. “Fuck, your mouth is like a pussy. What a perfect whore you are.” 

You clench around Jack's fingers when you taste Pope spilling his cum down your throat. Jack pulls his fingers out of you with a pop and before you can have a moment to react, his cock rams inside of you. Your orgasm hits right then and there and you nearly drool out Pope's cum from your mouth but he grips your chin tight, stopping you from losing any. 

“It must feel good to cum while tasting our cum. Open up.” Pope taps your cheek and you open your mouth, letting him spit into your mouth like Jack had earlier. “Now we're even. Swallow for me.” 

You swallow at the same time Jack spits on your ass. You aren't prepared for that at all, the feeling completely foreign to you. He rubs along the tight ring with his thumb, the motion causing your body to tingle all over. 

“Relax.” He tells you. He keeps the strokes of his cock steady as he teases your sensitive ass. “It'll feel good. You said you wanted us both. We have to train you to take us both.” 

“Come here.” Pope gestures for you to grab a hold of his shoulders. You do just that and he pulls your face towards him. “Focus on me.” 

He leans in and kisses you in that soft way of his. It coaxes you into calming down, your mind focused on his lips on yours. Jack slips his other hand down to rub your clit as his thumb presses into your ass slowly. All the sensations you're experiencing are warring inside of you. But Pope's reassuring hold on your face and Jack's slow, methodical circles over your clit coupled with his gentle rhythm of his cock pounding into you make it easier to accept his thumb slipping completely inside your ass. You moan against Pope's lips when you feel him start to move his thumb, getting you used to the feeling of being touched there. 

“It's just another place for us to make you feel good.” He breathes out against your lips. “We'll take it slow.” 

You nod, laying your head against his shoulder, letting yourself feel everything without distraction. You muffle a scream into Pope's skin when you cum around Jack's cock and he pulls out of your pussy, cumming all over your ass right as he pulls his thumb out. He rubs his cum with his fingers along the tight ring before slipping his forefinger in. Now, it's the only sensation you're feeling. 

“Isn't it dirty?” You've never had to prep your ass before. 

“We aren't fucking your ass today.” Jack quells your worry there. “We already came twice. If I'm going to fuck your ass, you're getting my first, full load of the day buried deep inside of you.” 

“Is he always like this?” Pope asks you, chuckling under his breath. 

You shake your head. “I think you're a bad influence.”

“Or a very good one.” He pecks your lips sweetly before saying, “now, be a good girl, and learn to enjoy the feeling.” 

Jack manages to slip another finger past your tight ring and he's careful in how he moves, not wanting to overstimulate you and make this more painful than it has to be. You take deep breaths, allowing it to happen, wanting to feel good from this. Imagining it's his cock not his fingers. Though, his cock would split your ass open, so you do appreciate that they're going to slowly prepare you for this instead of rushing in. 

When three fingers fit without too much difficulty, Jack knows it's time for the next part. He grabs your vibrator and you brace yourself, tightening around his fingers when he slips the vibrator back inside your pussy, gathering up as much of your slick as he can before he pulls it and his fingers out. 

“Trade with me.” Jack tells Pope. “I need to wash my hands. I don't want to risk any infections.”

“Ah, the doctor is in.” Pope smirks and gives you another kiss before he slips away and subs in for Jack, taking the vibrator from him. “I'm glad I get to have a bit of the fun.” 

Jack leaves to clean up as Pope turns on the vibrator for a second, teasing around the sensitive flesh before shutting it off again. You put your arms under your pillow, gripping it up towards your mouth to smother your moans. 

“Inhale.” Pope says and you listen, letting him slip the tip of the toy past that tight ring. “Exhale. Good job.” 

You feel flushed at how much you like hearing him praise you. Though, that might be also because he's pushing more of the vibrator inside of you. You've never felt this full in that area before. 

When he hilts the vibrator, Pope applauds you, “well done. I'll let you get used to it. You can lay down if that's more comfortable.” 

You lay on your side, tired of holding your body up. You take in deep breaths, trying to adjust to the feeling. Pope lays down next to you, caressing your sides, looking at you with so much care. 

“There's no rush.” He doesn't want you to think this has to happen right away. “It should feel good. Tell me if it doesn't.” 

“It's…different.” That's the best way you can put it. “But not bad.” 

“We can work with that.” Pope says, looking up as Jack returns from the bathroom. He plops down behind you, the mattress weight shifting. “Thankfully this is a king sized bed.” 

“Still a bit cramped.” Jack scoops you into his arms, spooning you from behind. It makes you reminisce about the other day, when he held you like this. 

“Are we planning to sleep together like a big, happy family?” Pope has you lay on his chest. 

“I'd like that.” You say quietly, not sure if you should've admitted it. You did like sleeping with Pope last night. Jack usually doesn't sleep with you after the two of you have sex, to keep that distance, so you're unsure how he'll react to your words.

He surprises you. “Then we'll sleep together. I don't mind but you'll have to adjust to my sleeping schedule.” 

You turn back to look at him. “Really?” 

He nods, leaning in to kiss you before saying against your lips, “I'm tired of pretending that I don't want to spend every moment of every day with you.” 

“Thankfully, I never had to pretend.” Pope turns your head back so he can kiss you. “I knew you were perfect for me the moment I saw you.” 

“It's okay if you both change your minds later.” You don't want them to feel trapped in this arrangement. “I'll enjoy this for as long as it lasts.” 

Pope and Jack share a look. And for the first time, it's like they have that twin telepathy. They both have the exact same thought. 

That they're never letting you go. 

Because this will last forever. 

As long as you want them both. 

“We should be saying that to you.” Jack tells you, holding you a bit tighter as he does. “If you ever want this to end…” 

Pope can see the panic in your face as you reply, “I don't. I mean…I would understand if you two wanted to end things but…I don't think I would ever. But maybe that's selfish of me…” 

“What's wrong with being a little selfish?” Pope looks at you with that intense stare of his. “I wouldn't be here if I was trying to be considerate. So be selfish and want what you want. Don't hold back.” 

You place your hand on Jack's and then you put your hand out for Pope to give his for you to hold. You squeeze them both and your heart melts when they squeeze back, the feeling so comforting. 

“If I get to be selfish…” You take Jack's hand, sliding it back to the handle of the vibrator. Then, you take Pope's hand, sliding it between your legs. “I want you both to make me cum.” 

“Greedy little whore.” Jack whispers in your ear, making you shiver all over. Those shivers intensify when he turns on the vibrator. You're squirming at the feeling of it. 

Pope takes that as the perfect opportunity to thrust three of his fingers inside of you, curling them right up against where the vibrations are pounding into you. You gasp, clinging onto him, your hips absentmindedly shaking already. He steals your breath away again by kissing you.

Then, you feel Jack grab your chin, pulling you away from Pope's lips so he can kiss you. He breathes out on your lips, his breath so warm and lovely, “you're so unfair. You better cling onto me next time.” 

“I will.” You reach up, trailing your fingers along his jaw before leaning up to kiss him. “I'll treat you both equally, I promise.” 

“I don't mind if you ignore Jack.” Pope pulls you back towards him, kissing you with a smirk on his face. 

Jack is definitely glaring at Pope so he gets his payback by grabbing the handle of the vibrator. He starts slow thrusts and you moan against Pope's lips, the feeling becoming more pleasurable than you thought it could be. It helps that his fingers are buried in your pussy, making you very aware of where you're feeling each sensation. 

“Oh god, I'm going to cum so hard.” You're practically shaking already, the tension coiling exponentially inside of you. “You guys are going to make me cum so—”

Pope wraps his other hand around your throat, cutting you off from saying anything else as your eyes roll back and you release all the tension in your body all at once. Pope pulls his fingers out of you, wanting you to cum just from your ass. Jack immediately pounds into you faster with the vibrator, increasing the vibration, and now you're screaming their names as you squirt uncontrollably. Pope holds your legs apart, not letting you hide it. 

“Let it all out.” He wants to see you completely unravel. 

“I heard anal orgasms make women squirt but I never thought it would be this intense.” Jack whispers right into your ear, “keep going until you can't anymore. You can do it.”  

It doesn't end. There's tears dripping down your face as you spasm with every orgasm. Jack doesn't stop pounding your ass with the vibrator, each thrust making you feel faint. You didn't even know you could cum like this. 

When you're thoroughly spent, Jack carefully pulls the vibrator out of you and gets up to go wash it, prepping a bath for you too. Pope picks you up into his arms and takes you to the bathtub, setting you down there. 

“I'm going to shower in my room.” Jack tells you both and heads to the door. But then, before he leaves, he goes, “meet me there when you're done here.” 

Jack walks back to you, not holding back his desires anymore. So, he leans down, kissing you once on the lips and then another time on the cheek. 

“Have a nice bath.” He says so sweetly before he leaves. 

You sink into the water, not believing that just happened. You must be so flushed because Pope goes, “are you really smiling because of another man in front of me?” 

Pope gestures for you to move and you shift so he can get into the tub with you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

He nuzzles his face against the nape of your neck and then says, “I'll let it slide because he's my brother. But don't you dare smile at any other man or I'll do something that'll send me back to prison.” 

You giggle, leaning back into him. “I promise, I only have eyes for you two.” 

“And we only have eyes for you.” Pope says “we” because he knows even though it took Jack this long to admit it, he feels exactly the same way Pope does. 

“We've only known each other a week though.” You turn around, wanting to straddle his lap to look at him. “Are you sure this is okay? I feel like maybe I'm taking advantage of you…”

“No one has ever wanted me before.” He cups your cheek with his hand and you lean into his warm touch. “I wouldn't care if you took advantage of me. At least you want me.” 

You have no idea about the horrors Pope has gone through when it came to intimacy. It wouldn't be the first time he was taken advantage of. He's just happy to be chosen.

Your heart breaks a little hearing that. You meet his gaze, then rest your forehead against his, telling him softly, “I will never let you feel unwanted.” 

You kiss him then and Pope holds you closer to him, believing that someone truly does want him for the first time. So he will do the same for you, “and I'll make sure you know how much I want you everyday.” 

“I'd like that.” You give him a little squeeze before getting out of the tub. You stop him from leaving, though. “Will you give me a few minutes with Jack? I should talk to him alone too.”

“Fine.” Pope will be fair. For now. “Don't keep me waiting for too long.”

“Never.” You lean down to give him a parting kiss and he deepens it before you can pull away. You sigh against his lips, “Andrew…” 

“Can't help myself.” He nudges your nose with his before letting you go. 

You steal a shirt from Pope's closet and then scurry back to your room to change into comfortable pajamas before heading over to Jack's room. You knock on the door and he opens it.

“Where's Pope?” Jack wasn't expecting to see you alone. 

“I told him to give us a few minutes alone. We haven't really talked since…” 

“Come in.” Jack shuts the door behind you, locking it. It won't stop Pope from coming in if he really wants to but it'll stall for time so you and Jack can have this conversation.

You sit down on his bed and he joins you, the weight shifting over to him. You turn to look at him then say, “if this is ever too much for you, just know that I won't hold it against you if you want to reel it back. I'm happy, truly, just being with you in any capacity.”

“You shouldn't be happy with that.” He tells you, sighing. “Pope is right. I'm an idiot. You're a wonderful woman and I…just was so wrapped up in my own bullshit that I convinced myself I wasn't worthy of anything but the occasional fuck.” 

Jack is finally letting his insecurities peek through. He has plenty to worry about. He's not getting any younger. He has a prosthetic leg. He works too much. He's bad at communicating. 

But he wants to change so he tells you, "you will never be too much for me. I can't get enough of you.” 

His words make the butterflies in your stomach flutter around so happily. “I like you, Jack. I always have. I always would've, too. So, I'm really happy we get to finally be close. Even if it's a little scary…” 

“Are you sure you want me?” He knows he can be a handful. He doesn't want you to feel obligated to commit to him.

“I have been waiting for the day that you'd kiss me just to kiss me.” You refer to earlier in the tub. “I can't not want you after that.”

Jack grabs a hold of your face, pulling you towards him. “I've always wanted to kiss you just to kiss you. There were so many moments where I wanted to but I…”

“That's in the past.” You lean in, kissing him. He kisses you back without hesitation. Then, he pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him like you had done with Pope.

They really are brothers. 

“I'm going to spoil you from now on.” Jack makes this vow. “And Pope will hold me to it.”

“Is it…okay that I like Pope too?” You know it's asking a lot of Jack to share. It is a complicated situation. 

“I think it's good.” He answers honestly. “He fills in the gaps I physically can't. It is like having another version of myself take care of you.” 

“You both took very good care of me earlier.” You giggle, going in for a big hug. “I liked how demanding you were.” 

“Did you really tell Pope to send me that video?” Jack just has to ask. 

“Did you not enjoy it?” You smile mischievously. 

“I'd enjoy it more if I got to do that too.” He wants his own video of you screaming his name like that while you cum over and over again. 

“I can make that happen.” You wouldn't mind it. You haven't watched the video yet but you're sure it would send you into a frenzy in the good kind of way. “Maybe we can have Pope film us.” 

“Or we could just get a camera set up.” 

“Do you like watching me get fucked?” You can feel him getting hard underneath you. “I'll take that as a yes.” 

“You're killing me. I was exhausted from work and yet somehow, I still want to fuck you again.” Jack has no idea where the stamina came from. Must've been adrenaline.

“Maybe after a nap.” You pat the bed. “I wouldn't mind one. Pope kept me up all night.” 

“I do not need to know that.” He glares at you and you love that look on his face. 

“You get comfy. I'll go get Pope.” You hop off the bed and go to the door. You open it and say, “speak of the devil.”

“I was wondering when you two would finish talking.” He says with a yawn. “I'm ready to sleep.” 

You notice he brought two pillows with him to add to Jack's bed, so now there's three sets on it. You plop down in the middle and Jack immediately pulls you in to spoon you and Pope has you rest against his chest. 

You don't usually sleep during the day but…maybe this is something worth getting used to. 

You really like being sandwiched between them like this. 

You hope it'll never end. 

A/N: I hope you enjoyed what my brain cooked up! ♡

he made sure you came on his face at least three times. until your legs were jelly, brain mush, voice hoarse from begging him to stop. ‘i-i can’t’ you had whined, ‘ ‘s too much andy!’. he did it to get you into that floaty head space where you’re babbling mindlessly and lax for him.

and you’re exactly that as pope crawls up your body and settles where he belongs, above you and inbetween your legs. still, you breathlessly slur the question that he despises. “condom?”

he feigns frustration even though this is exactly what he planned. “shit— i left my wallet in craig’s car… i don’t have one.”

your response is a needy whine that morphs into a gasp when he rests his cock against your drenched folds and slowly slides back and forth. “can i just have you like this sweetheart?” pope rubs his thick length upwards, angry pink tip catching your clit with every pressing glide. you whimper through your desperate nods, nails clawing at his shoulders, fusing your knees to his ribs to stay spread for him. such a good girl, he thinks to himself.

he keeps his ruttings short. almost playfully light in order to not get you anywhere besides out of your mind from teasing. just how he wants it. when you start to wriggle beneath him, whimpering a few mindless “please please please”s, he looks down at your aching pussy to see her clench around nothing. poor baby, she needs me so bad, he tells himself.

his dick is so drenched in your slick releases that pope ‘accidentally’ notches at your opening. staying in motion, he pushes in ever so slightly. your eyes shoot open in surprise “ohh- andy!” you squeal. frustration bubbles in his chest, but he doesn’t give up. because your panic simmers to heat and your mouth forms an ‘o’ as you moan at just his bare tip breaching your wet heat.

he buries his face into your neck to hide his satisfied grin, licking and suckling the skin how he knows you like. “jus the tip sweetheart? please?” he emphasizes his wimpy whines with an inching forward of his hips. your nails tear at the flesh on his back as you shudder. “p-promise?” you croak out. his reply is strained. “ ‘course honey.”

popes promise — to him at least— goes up in flames when he slips a tiny bit further inside and is met with warm, silky tightness. fuckkk. he groans, muscles tensing and you cry out, eyes rolling back. his thrusts are shallow and unsatisfactory. after a only a few, he’s twitching in need, pathetically trying to inch deeper.

you notice, starting to whine and pant. “you cant! i’m n-not on the pill!” the words almost make pope start to piston in and out of you. the thought of coming in you until you’re swollen with his baby infiltrating his mind. that you’ll be tied to him forever and— oh yeah. that’s happening, he decides.

pope leans down to kiss you languidly. trying to tongue fuck you into submission. your pussy is rapidly fluttering around the first inch of him, telling him that you want this just as bad as he does. he uses his words. “you just feel so good sweetheart. need you so bad. need all of you.” a breathy moan slips from you at his praise as you return his kiss greedily.

you pull back and blink up at him with your glossy eyes and kiss bitten lips. when your legs start to wrap around him, crossing tightly at his back, he knows he’s almost home free. “okay... i- i need you too andy.”

you barely get the words out before he hastily pushes all the way inside of you. guttural noises of pleasure are ripped from you both as you clench around him so prettily and he stretches you out so perfectly. it’s searing, intimate and raw. so fucking raw.

as pope starts to thrust in and out of you eagerly, obscene slapping sounds echo throughout the room. he whimpers loudly at the warm, wet feeling of you and the noises your body makes for him.

when you shakily tell him between moans “you h-have to pull out okay?”

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For the first month, Robby tried so hard to be good. He wanted to be a good role model to you, help mold you into the brilliant doctor he knew you were capable of becoming. You had an energetic and positive presence that lit up the entire E.D. You made him smile and he loved seeing you grow as a doctor. But against his better judgement, he would find himself gravitating towards you. Looking for you and taking every chance he could to teach you. He also took every excuse he could find to touch you, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you through the crowded department, patting your shoulder after a job well done, or putting his hands over yours to guide you through a complicated procedure. While his hands would always linger for a few seconds and you found some of the touching to be unnecessary- nine out of ten times, he definitely didn’t need to put his hand on your waist to get past you, you didn’t think anything of it and you liked the warmth of his large hands on your body. He thought that those little touches would help curb the growing desire he had for you but it only made things worse. 

It wasn’t just your physical traits and intelligence that attracted him to you. It was your passion for helping others. Dr. Robby saw it the day you started when you discreetly paid for an elderly patient’s Uber home after they broke their leg, even though he had overheard you complaining to Mohan just minutes ago about how you were struggling to pay for rent and groceries. That evening when you opened your locker, you mysteriously found a $100 gift card to Aldi. He paid attention to you, listening to your conversations with other doctors and nurses even when he pretended to be doing something else. 

By the second month, his special treatment with you didn’t go unnoticed by others. Most people thought it was because you were such a great resident, always ready to learn and you played by the rules. Others thought it was because of who your dad was and Robby didn’t bother correcting them because that was better than the real reason.  

“Hey nepo baby, can you ask Dr. Robby if we can keep the concussion kid for observation? I know he wants us to clear up some rooms but the kid’s still throwing up,” Trinity asked, standing beside you as you finished charting at the desk. 

“Why don’t you ask him?” 

“He’s in a bad mood today. I overheard Princess and Perlah gossiping about him- apparently, he was yelling at Langdon earlier and I do not want to be on the receiving end of that,” Trinity explained. 

“I’m really behind on my charting,” you sighed. 

“Please,” she begged, pouting her lower lip, “Robby’s always nice to you.” 

“What? No he’s not,” you scoffed, glancing over at Robby who was talking to Dana on the other side of the desk. As if he could sense your gaze, he looked over at you and smiled before turning back to Dana. 

“Are you guys talking about Robby?” Whitaker asked. 

“Yeah, I’m trying to get nepo baby here to sweet talk him for me,” Trinity nodded, nudging you with her shoulder. 

“If you’re gonna talk to him, can you ask him to check on my OD patient. He’s an organ donor but the parents don’t want to donate.”

“You too?” you groaned. 

“He’s the nicest to you,” Whitaker nodded, shooting you a sympathetic smile. 

“See, I told you,” Trinity teased. 

“Ugh fine. You owe me- both of you,” you said before walking over to Robby. 

As soon as Robby saw you coming towards him, a smile appeared on his face and his bad mood disappeared immediately. 

“Hi, Dr. Robby.” 

“Hey,” he smiled. 

“There’s a concussed kid in the trauma bay. He was cleared earlier but he’s throwing up again, can we keep him for observation?” 

“If you think that’s the right call, then do it,” he nodded. 

Dana’s ears perked up hearing that and she shot a suspicious look at Robby. She knew he had gotten an earful from Gloria in the morning about raising patient satisfaction scores again. A concussed kid throwing up could just be sent home, there was no reason to have him occupying one of the few rooms they had to spare. 

You were surprised by how quickly he agreed to it. Just a few hours ago, he was telling Samira that she needed to be faster with her patients. “Great. And there’s an OD patient, his parents still don’t want to donate, even though he’s a registered organ donor. Could you talk to them again?” 

“Isn’t that Whitaker’s patient?” Dana asked, joining in on the conversation. 

“Yeah, I’m just trying to help,” you explained. 

“I’ll talk to the parents,” Robby said. “Anything else?” 

“No, that’s it. Thanks,” you smiled before walking back to finish your charting. 

“You’re being very nice,” Dana noted, sliding her glasses down her nose slightly and staring at Robby with raised eyebrows. 

“I’m always nice,” he shrugged, his voice going a little higher than usual. He felt his cheeks turning red and turned away to look at the board. 

“Yeah, I’m startin’ to notice,” she chuckled sarcastically. 

Until that day, you never realized you were getting special treatment but now you were beginning to wonder if Whitaker and Trinity were right. Back in school, you were that annoying kid who loved being the teacher’s pet and it made your heart flutter thinking that maybe you were Robby’s favourite. From the second you saw him, you were attracted to him. Not just physically but just the way he carried himself. He had an authoritative presence, stern yet gentle. But you never imagined your feelings would be reciprocated. You had never been in a position where you knew someone wanted you and it was fucking delicious. From that day on, you started testing him, trying to see how much he would let you get away with. 

And Robby let you get away with a lot. He loved the way you batted your eyelashes at him and took any excuse to rub against him when moving around in a trauma room. Everything you did only fueled his dark and perverted fantasies of you. He kept having to adjust himself after you innocently brushed your ass against him whenever you tried to reach for something. You were his resident, too young, too pretty, and too innocent (or so he thought). 

What Robby didn’t know was that you wanted him, just as bad. Just listening to him speak was enough for you to feel heat between your thighs. Even if you weren’t much of a slut in practice, you were definitely one in theory. He didn’t know that you liked going to bed, imagining inappropriate scenarios of him. Oftentimes, you ended up sliding your hand down your panties, thinking of him bending you over a table, taking you from behind, or fucking you right in the pitt. He had no idea how badly you wanted him too.

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The real trouble started in the third month of your residency. Robby didn’t know when his attraction for you turned into obsession. But if he had to pinpoint an exact moment when the attraction turned into obsession, it would probably be when he stole your panties. He had been teasing you all day, praising you after every single task, calling you a good girl. Then he purposely bumped into you in the break room while you were holding a cup of iced coffee, the cold liquid spilled all over your scrubs, seeping through the fabric. He waited for you to get changed and put your panties into your locker. As soon as you left the locker area, he used his key to unlock your locker, reached into your bag, and took out your panties. Just as he suspected from all the praise he had given you, they were damp with sticky arousal. He bundled up the fabric in his hand and looked around to make sure no one was watching before he took a deep inhale. He let out a low groan as he closed his eyes and inhaled your musky scent. Later that night, he held your panties to his face as he stroked his cock, moaning your name. 

Every time he saw you, his self control and restraint were pushed to the absolute limits. Whenever he talked, you stared at him with such focus and admiration, hanging onto his every word. He had also noticed the way your thighs would clench together every time he praised you. Everything you did drove him over the edge; the way your scrub top lifted up when you reached for things, revealing your smooth taut stomach, the way your plump lips wrapped around the straw of your water bottle, and most of all, the way you looked at him like he hung the moon. 

You were a bright-eyed young woman who was passionate about helping others. But somehow, Robby couldn’t help but think of you in other ways. You were always attentive, obedient, and so eager to help that he had a feeling you would get on your knees and suck his cock if he came up with some bullshit excuse like needing stress relief. He wanted to know how far you were willing to go to please him; he had a feeling you would do anything he asked you to do and that thought made his cock twitch. You saw the best in everyone and there was a dark, dirty, perverted part of him that wanted to abuse that privilege.

He equally loved and hated the way you had him rushing home after work to fuck his fist like he was a teenage boy who just found out how to masturbate. He would wrap his hand around his thick cock, already leaking with pre-cum and jerk himself off to the thought of getting you drunk on his cock. He loved to imagine all the pretty sounds and faces you would make as he stretched you out; that was enough to make him cum hard, moaning your name every single time. You made him feel old, perverted, dirty, and disgusting but that was part of what turned him on so much. 

One night when Robby found you walking to the bus stop in the rain after a shift, he offered to drive you home. When he got to your building, he realized that the landlord was an old friend of his. It was an old house that had been divided into six units with shared utilities. He knew that the living conditions there weren’t great, the building was old and not well managed. After dropping you off, his greediness took over and before he could realize what he had done, he was calling his friend and spewing bullshit about finance. He told his friend that in this economy, everyone was increasing their rent prices to keep up with inflation. Robby knew it was fucked up of him to do that because it wouldn’t just affect you but all of the other tenants. It was evil and there would be a special place in hell waiting for him but he couldn’t help it. He wanted you and now he just needed to wait for the perfect opportunity to take it. 

To Robby’s glee, the opportunity presented itself the next day when he walked into the break room and saw you crying in the break room. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked. His eyebrows furrowed as he sat down beside you at the table. He placed his arm around you and gently rubbed soothing circles with his thumb on your back. 

“My landlord jacked up the rent price and I got evicted because I couldn’t afford the rent anymore…”

Robby clenched his jaw and you felt his hand tense on your back. He worked so hard to suppress his smile at hearing about your terrible situation- your terrible situation that he had single handedly created. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, feigning sadness. 

You sniffled and looked at him, even in your state of despair, you smiled, “It’s okay, it’s not your fault-”

Oh if only you knew. 

“For the past few days, I’ve been staying in a crappy motel room that can barely fit all of my stuff. I’ve spent hours online looking for a new place but everything’s so expensive.” 

It was like the stars had aligned just for him and he would finally get to have you alone.  “Your parents aren’t helping?” he asked. When he first heard you complaining about rent and groceries, he was surprised. Your father was making nearly a million dollars a year, Robby wondered why he wasn’t supporting you financially. 

“I didn’t tell my parents. I don’t want them to think that I can’t do this.”

“They think that?” 

“Mostly my dad, but yeah. He didn’t even want me to be a doctor, let alone move all the way here for my residency.” 

Robby nodded and sighed, battling with the deranged demons inside of him. A sick part of himself felt happy hearing that your family didn’t support you because it meant you were looking for support elsewhere. He wanted to be that person, someone you could rely on. When he looked at you, he saw the future. Whether it was the future of emergency medicine or his future, he wasn’t quite sure yet, maybe both but he wanted you around. 

He was silent for a few seconds before he said, “I have a guest bedroom, you can stay there.” 

You looked at him with raised eyebrows and widened eyes. “Really?”

“I rent it out and my last tenant moved out a few weeks ago.” He was such a liar. 

Your eyebrows knit together with confusion. “You rent out your spare bedroom? You’re the chief of emergency medicine.”

“Extra income is always good,” he shrugged casually. He had never rented out his guest bedroom before but now seemed like the perfect time to start. 

“I don’t know…”  As much as you were attracted to Robby, you knew moving in with him would be a bad idea. 

“Well, it’s no pressure. You don’t have to decide right away- it’s just there, if you need it.”

“How much do you charge for rent?” 

Robby thought for a few seconds of what an appropriate price would be. He wanted it to be cheap enough that you could afford it but expensive enough that it wouldn’t be suspiciously low.  “Six hundred a month. You’d get your own bedroom and bathroom. I’ve got a dishwasher, laundry machine, and dryer. We’d just share a kitchen and general living space.” 

Six hundred was cheaper than anything you’d ever seen before. You weighed the options in your head. It would be an HR nightmare, not to mention the rumours if people found out, namely Princess and Perlah. But his offer was so sweet and you didn’t want to offend him. Robby knew this and he was taking advantage of your kind-hearted nature. 

“That would be great. Thank you,” you smiled. You leaned over and hugged him.  

“You’re welcome. Let’s just…keep this between the two of us. Neither of us need the hassle from HR.”

“Okay, it’ll be our little secret,” you said softly although it came out more like a sexy whisper. 

“Good,” he nodded. His voice was strained, almost as strained as his cock was, pressing against his pants. The thought of having you live in his apartment, the woman he had spent the past three months thinking about as he fucked his fist was enough to make him moan right then and there. He had never been so thankful to be sitting down at the moment, the table perfectly covered the rising tent in his pants. 

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Later that day, after your shift finished, Robby drove you to the motel you were staying at and helped you load everything into his car before driving to his place. The drive wasn’t too long but every second felt like an hour. After not so accidentally hitting a curb while he was pulling out of the parking lot of the motel, he placed his hand on your thigh. You figured it was just a way to calm you because he hit the curb pretty hard and you did jump in surprise. He kept his hand on your thigh the entire time and you could practically feel your pussy pulsing as arousal grew between your tightly clamped thighs. 

When you got to his place, he opened the car door for you and handed you the keys. “Make yourself at home. I’ll bring your stuff inside.” 

“Thanks, Robby-” 

“Michael. You can call me Michael,” he said. He had been waiting for months to hear you say his name. 

“Okay, thanks, Michael.” 

God he loved the way you said his name. It had a different inflection coming out of your sweet mouth. He was resolved to hear you moan it tonight. 

You unlocked the door and stepped inside. It was exactly how you imagined it would be in your many late-night sexual fantasies. A rugged yet cozy bachelor pad. The entire place smelled like him, musky, woody, with the faint smell of cigarettes. 

“What do you think?” he asked. He had taken off his hoodie and had it slung across his shoulder. You could see his veiny arms and biceps flexing as he carried in your heavy bags. 

“It’s really nice. Thanks again for letting me stay here.” 

“It’s my pleasure,” he smiled, placing your bags on the floor. It really was his pleasure. “Do you want a beer?”

“Yes, please,” you nodded. It had been a long day and all you wanted was to decompress. 

He sat down next to you on the couch and handed you a beer. His leg pressed against yours and you made the conscious decision not to move away. 

“So, you’ve been working in the pitt for three months now. How do you feel?” 

“I love it but there’s some days where I feel like I’m not cut out for this. Maybe it’s everything my dad has said but…I don’t know,” you shrugged and looked at the ground. 

He put his beer down on the coffee table and gently tilted your chin upwards so you were looking at him. You felt heart spreading across your face at the unexpected contact. 

“You’re quick on your feet, logical, and you care for your patients. You show a real promise for emergency medicine,” he said, looking into your wide eyes. His thumb stroked the skin below your chin. It was taking every ounce of self control he had not to kiss you right then and there but he restrained himself, not wanting to scare you away after he had schemed to get you here. 

“Really?” 

“I used to work with your father. He’s a brilliant man but he couldn’t be more wrong about you. You’re built for this.” His hand moved from your chin to touch your hot cheek. 

Hearing those words from Michael meant everything to you. You were so overcome by validation that you finally gave in to the tension that had been accumulating between you for months and kissed him. You immediately froze after your lips touched his but before you could open your mouth to speak, Michael moved quickly, not giving you a second to process what you had just done or be embarrassed. 

His large hands cupped your face, pulling you in towards him as he kissed you back. The kiss started off soft and gentle but it quickly grew deeper. One hand moved to the back of your neck while the other squeezed your breast; his finger grazed over your sensitive nipple. Your mouth fell open in response as you moaned and he took the chance to slide his tongue against yours. 

You could feel your wetness growing, aching for friction so you moved to sit in his lap, straddling him. He started biting and sucking on your neck; he wanted to leave his mark all over your body. Your knees sank into the couch while you settled yourself between his hips. You rolled your hips and felt the outline of his hard cock grind against your throbbing pussy. He bit your earlobe in response and you could feel his hot breath fanning against your neck. You clenched around nothing as you kept grinding down on him, feeling every inch of his hard pulsing cock press against you. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, pressing your hands against his chest and throwing your head back at the sensations rippling through your body. You kept grinding against him, feeling the delicious friction of your clothes rubbing against your pussy. 

He reached his hand under your scrub top and pressed his hand against your bare back, pushing you close to him. Your chest was pressed against his and you let your head rest on his shoulder. He started bucking his hips up to meet your movements and you could feel his fingers digging into your hips, holding you so tight it would leave marks. His grip on your hips guided your rhythm, making you feel every inch of him pressing against your throbbing pussy like you were actually fucking him. 

Suddenly his grip on your hips tightened, stopping your movement. You looked at him, confused as to why he was stopping. “I need to taste you,” he said in a low voice that made your pussy clench around nothing. 

“Okay,” you nodded eagerly. 

Without saying another word, he carried you bridal-style to his bedroom and placed you on his bed. “Take off your clothes,” he commanded, stepping back so he could look at you. 

You kept your eyes trained on him as you lifted up your scrub top, tossing it on the floor. Then you pulled down your pants, revealing your black lace bra and panties. 

“God, you really know how to make a man lose his mind,” he groaned as his eyes raked over your body, drinking you in. 

“Really?” you asked. Heat flushed through your entire body as you looked at him. 

He nodded. “I’ve been going crazy thinking about you.” 

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” you admitted. 

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice slightly cracking. His restraint and control was crumbling by the second. 

You suddenly felt a little braver and you knew there was no going back. You slid your panties off, leaned back on your elbows, and spread your legs for him. “I’ve made myself cum thinking about you.” 

Just hearing that was enough to elicit another low, “Fuck,” out of his mouth. He quickly took off his scrubs and walked towards you. 

This time it was your turn to say, “Fuck.” His cock was rock hard and girthier than you’d ever seen. Veins ran along the shaft and the fat tip was dripping with pre-cum. 

Michael grabbed you by the hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed. His pupils were dilated as he got down on his knees so he was eye level with your glistening pussy. He started off slow, kissing your inner thighs, gently sucking and biting on the soft skin while you writhed against the sheets, desperate for more. 

“Please,” you begged, trying to push your throbbing pussy into his face. 

“Use your words, pretty girl,” he instructed, looking up at you from between your thighs. 

“Please, Michael, I need you,” you whimpered. 

“Good girl,” he smiled. Not wanting to waste another second, he dove straight in with his tongue. He ate your pussy with the feverish passion of a starved man. His nose rubbed and pressed against your clit while he licked up your juices. 

“So fucking sweet,” he moaned into your pussy. 

“Oh fuck Michael!” you cried out, gripping his hair with your hands. You bucked your hips against his face and he dove in deeper. His tongue moved up and down your wet folds before he started sucking on your clit. The waves of pleasure surging through your body were unbelievable. You wanted to keep him between your thighs for the rest of your life. 

“Such a good girl,” he said to your pussy as he inserted two fingers. His thick fingers stretched you out and felt so much better than your own. He moved them in and out of you, picking up his pace as he felt your walls clenching around them. He kept his tongue on your clit, applying pressure and sucking it. 

“Holy fuck!” Your thighs clamped around his head tightly as your first orgasm rippled through your body. But he didn’t stop. He added a third finger so he was knuckles deep inside of you and the stretch felt glorious. Then he started scissoring his fingers inside you then curled them until they hit that spongy spot deep inside of you that you’d never been able to reach on your own while he kept sucking on your clit. Your toes curled and your pussy clenched tightly around his fingers while you threw your head back crying out his name. 

“Good girl,” he praised, kissing your inner thigh as he fingered you through your orgasm. 

Your thighs were shaking as you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. Your wetness dripped down his beard and he had never looked hotter. 

Then with his eyes on you, he pulled his fingers out of your swollen pussy and licked them. “My favourite girl,” he groaned as his tongue lapped up all your fluids dripping down his fingers. 

His knees cracked as he stood up from the ground and the mattress dipped under his weight as he got on beside you. You leaned back so your head was on the soft pillows and he crawled towards you with his heavy cock swinging between his thighs. His eyes were dark, pupils blown with lust. 

Once he pressed his knees into the mattress and settled between your spread thighs, he used his hand to guide his thick cock through your wet folds. 

“So fucking tight,” he groaned. You felt even better than he imagined all those times he jerked himself off thinking about you. It was like your pussy was made just for him. 

Your face scrunched together and tears dripped down your cheeks from discomfort at the stretch of the first few inches. You looked so pretty crying as you took his cock. It was your first time taking a cock as big as his but your dripping arousal provided enough lubrication for him to shove himself into you. 

You cried out of the sudden feeling of fullness, your hands gripping the sheets while you wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your heels into his ass. You could feel every pulse of his cock inside of you as he stretched you out. It was a sensation that you’d never felt before. Once he was fully inside you, he stayed still for a few seconds letting your body adjust to him until you started squirming below him. 

“Please fuck me,” you begged as you tried to move your hips into him, desperate for motion. 

“Say my name,” he demanded. 

“Michael-” 

As soon as his name left your lips, he moved his hips back, letting the tip rest at your entrance before slamming back inside of you. He kept his hands gripped on your hips, lifting them upwards as he fucked into you. Your face relaxed and your mouth fell open; indiscernible noises coming out of your mouth as you started moving your hips towards him, matching your rhythm to his. 

“Fuck, oh fuck! Michael!” you cried out. He kept pulling almost out of you before pounding deep into you again. The sensation of his cock moving in and out of your walls had your pussy clenching hard around his thick girth. 

“You’re a dirty little slut, aren’t you? Letting a man old enough to be your father fuck you like this.” He thrust harder into you, hitting the sweet spot as his pelvic bone pressed against your sensitive clit with each deep thrust. 

“Yeah, I’m a dirty slut,” you nodded eagerly. You looked so pretty with your round breasts bouncing up and down each time he fucked into you. Tears stained your hot cheeks while your lips parted open, letting loud moans escape. 

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you. You won’t be able to be with anyone but me,” he growled. He was completely blinded by lust and a carnal need for you. His grip on your hips tightened as he pulled you even closer to him. The closeness had him going deeper inside than before, the head of his cock hitting your cervix. The sounds echoing in the walls of his bedroom were obscene, your wetness and fluids squelching each time his cock thrust into you. 

You could feel yourself getting close when your thighs started shaking. You were already overstimulated from your other two orgasms. “I’m so close,” you moaned, looking up into his eyes. 

“Are you gonna let me cum inside you? You want me to fill you up?” Although it was posed as a question, it sounded more like a demand. He dreamed of having you, his pretty young resident in his bed like this, staring up at him with your wide eyes as he filled you up with his cum. 

“Yes, fuck yes! I want you to fill me up!” Your eyes rolled back as your pussy clenched hard around his cock, triggering his own orgasm. He started erratically thrusting into you while you felt yourself letting go. Both of your bodies were shaking with pleasure as your fluids dripped onto the sheets and you felt hot thick ropes of his cum flood into you. 

You lay splayed out on the mattress, gasping for air. He pulled out and collapsed beside you for a few seconds before he pulled you close to him. “You did such a good job, pretty girl,” he said breathlessly. You lay your head on his sweaty chest as your breathing synchronized. You closed your eyes, feeling his cum drip out of your still pulsing pussy while he placed a tender kiss on your forehead. 

You should have known better and he definitely did know better but that didn’t stop either of you from doing it again and again.

Dividers by @hatoslay

But they're not answering their freaking phones!

The coil wraps itself tighter within your stomach.

You're angry now.

You pick up your things and practically storm out of the office, barely saying goodbye to your colleagues before you burst through the elevator into the Pitt.

At first you expect the place to be a spiraling mess. At least that would excuse their absence. But instead you find the place uncharacteristically quiet, calm and organized.

However, the shock quickly clears as red stains your vision.

You spot them across the floor, calm as can be, casual even, bags swung over their shoulders as if ready to leave, talking to the new attending.

She laughs at something Jack said, her hand not so subtly brushing against his arm.

Steam practically shoots out of your ears at the gesture, at how he returns her playful smile, at how Robby follows their lead and leans just a little further into her orbit.

You don't think, you just do.

You're standing beside them in a few powerful strides, arms crossed over your chest.

They don't notice you right away, the subtle sting of rejection only adding to your already boundless rage.

So you clear your throat, bratty and demanding.

It's like time stops in its tracks as the two men stiffen, finally turning to face you.

They don't dare talk, no, they don't have to do anything, because as their eyes darken at the mere sight of you, they've already accomplished what they set out to do.

"Hello," it's her who speaks first. "I'm doctor Al-Hashimi, is there something I can help you with?"

You give her a tight lipped smile, never one to be rude.

"No, I'm sorry," you reply sweetly. "I just need to borrow those two."

Jack smirks to himself, fully aware of just how turbulent your water is beneath that sweet facade. Robby on the other hand, is absolutely gobsmacked.

His brows scrunch in confusion, he honestly expected more from you.

The plan was to rattle you, so why aren't you rattled?

Jack catches his internal turmoil, his grin only widening as he continues with his rehearsed play, looking down at his watch and apologizing to you, time got the better of them and all that bullshit.

He turns to Al-Hashimi and says goodbye before steering you towards the parking lot, knowing Robby will follow behind him obediently, but not before leaning down to whisper in your ear—

"It was Robby's idea."

Robby's entire world is turned upside down as you push him into the back of Jack's truck.

He has no time to process what's happening as you throw yourself over his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist as your mouth attaches itself to his.

Jack chuckles darkly as he settles into the driver's seat, turning the rearview mirror so he can watch the two of you before he starts the engine.

Robby finally reacts as your desperation processes through his brain.

You're jealous.

Their plan has worked marvelously.

His hands eagerly snap up to grab your body, silently thanking Jack for tinting his windows the second he bought the vehicle.

Robby does little to stop the assault of your mouth on his body.

He relishes it even.

The kiss quickly turns more heated as your tongue demands entrance into his mouth and he gladly obliges.

It's a clash of want and need, of desperation and assertion, of finally, letting go after months of them pushing you, molding you, turning you into this.

He can't help but think back to the first time this happened, how shy you'd been, how you thought you were doing something wrong.

Whoever that person was is no longer as you stake claim to what is now yours.

Your teeth nip at his lower lip, pulling it back in tandem with Robby's unashamed touch. Strong hands slide up your back under your shirt, skillful fingers making quick work of your bra to sneak beneath the cup while the other undoes your pants.

You moan into his mouth as his fingers pinch your nipples.

"Oh honey," Robby coos. "Are you angry we left you waiting?"

You don't answer, you simply glare at him, eyes turned obsidian with lust.

Jack chuckles darkly at the display.

"We didn't mean to, kid," he adds fuel to the fire. "It's just— she's new, you know? Didn't want to make her feel bad if we just left after our shift."

You turn to stare daggers at him next.

Your mouth opens to retort, to complain, to let your anger be known. It's then that Robby decides to slide his fingers inside your panties.

Your brow instantly scrunches in pleasure, whatever anger swiftly turning into need.

You moan, hips thrusting into Robby's hand.

Snapping your attention back to the chief attending beneath you, your head falls slack over his shoulder, finally getting what you've been after.

"Aw, is this what you needed, honey?" Robby mocks. "Just wanted our attention all to yourself?"

You manage a nod, your own hands sneaking between your bodies to pull Robby's thick erection out of his scrubs.

"That's it, good girl," Robby continues to roll the pads of his fingers over your clit. "Take what you need."

"No," Jack intervenes sharply, causing the two of you to freeze. "Only she gets to cum."

Robby is about to complain, to fight back but then Jack turns to him, trust me written all over his face.

And so Robby does, with his life.

"You heard the man," Robby confirms and you tentatively remove your hands from his crotch, causing a whine to exhale from his already puffy lips.

Your attention gets brought back to them then, the way they're stained a deep mauve from your lipstick, how they're swollen from the intensity of your kisses, how they part slightly as he pants desperately.

You're both drunk on it already, the world around you zoning out as you crash your mouth with his again.

This time you take it slow. There's no need to rush, no need to prove anything. He's here with you, not out there with her.

Robby matches your pace, letting you think you're the one in control, luring you into a false sense of security, lowering your defenses.

His fingers start moving again, playing with your sensitive nub painstakingly slow, matching the movement of your lips.

You groan into his mouth, frustrated and desperate.

You detach your mouth from his then and latch onto the base of his neck, where you know he can't hide beneath his long sleeve and suck.

Robby sucks in his teeth sharply, the pleasure from knowing you're gonna leave a mark making his head dizzy with a new kind of possessiveness he never thought you'd show them.

In retaliation, he leaves your clit, his fingers instead sliding into you without warning.

You hiss into his neck, your body tensing over his, clenching around his thick fingers.

His other hand grips your hip tightly, his grip sure to leave bruises tomorrow.

He moves your body how he wants, forcing you to roll your hips in tandem with his movements.

Emboldened by his ministrations, you move lower, your lips leaving a trail of crimson marks in their wake.

"Mine," you mumble into his skin.

"What was that, honey?"

You sink your teeth into his pec, deep enough that he can hide it, and suck like your life depends on it.

"Fucking shit, what the fuck?" Robby belts, causing Jack to laugh like this is the funniest joke that has ever been told.

"Good fucking girl," Jack praises. "Don't go too deep, don't want to have to keep an eye on a wound tonight."

You hum against Robby's skin, finally letting go and running your tongue over your teeth marks.

The hand at your hip snakes its way around your neck then, pulling you back to face Robby.

You've never seen his eyes this dark. Maybe it's a trick of the light or something because he looks possessed.

"You happy?" he growls. "Everyone's gonna know I'm taken now, 's that what you wanted?"

You smirk brightly, positively high off your newfound confidence.

"Yes."

Robby chuckles darkly, curling his fingers deep inside of you and practically forcing you to cum out of nowhere.

Your entire body tenses, bursting into an explosion of tingles that only intensify as his grip on your throat tightens ever so slightly. You choke back a sob as your body spasms in his embrace.

"That's it, honey, give me everything."

You're unsure when your orgasm lets up but Jack's parking by the time you come back to yourself.

You're slumped over Robby's broad chest as he strokes down your back, your heartbeat finally not thundering in your ears, your breathing finally settling down.

"What can she give you that I can't?" you pant meekly, pushing back tears that you hadn't noticed were gathered.

Jack parks the car, turning to face the two of you. The men share a look then, eyes sparkling with unbridled hunger, lips curling into broad smirks.

"Well honey," Robby starts. "There is one thing..."

The way your eyes widen lets them know everything they need to.

You're ready.

a/n: finals can suck my dick

dividers by @/enchanthings

the sound of the door closing and robby’s bag dropping to the floor with a heavy dull thud jolts you out of your sleep. you had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him to come home, robby told you multiple times that you didn’t need to wait up for him, that the bed would be much better for you to sleep in but it just didn’t feel the same without him in it.

“long day?” you ask as robby lets out one of his signature deep sighs. you rub the tired from your eyes and peer over the back of the couch to look at him, he looked exhausted, well and truly burnt out from his terrible day.

robby drags his hands down his face before nodding, “like you wouldn’t believe, how’s she been today?” he’s shuffling over to you now, his feet unable to lift off the floor as he makes his way over. he’s kicking his shoes off before flopping onto the couch beside you, falling into you with his head resting on your full chest.

“aw, my poor baby,” you coo with a frown “my other baby’s been good, she went down about an hour ago.” you wrap your arms around his head and hold him against you, placing a soft kiss to the top of his head. he shifts to bury himself in your clothed tits. nuzzling his face all in their warmth, taking in your familiar calming scent.

immediately you feel robby soften, his shoulders relax and he becomes almost limp as he breathes you in. his hands come up to toy with the hem of your top, the backs of his fingers grazing the bare skin of your soft tummy underneath. “can i?” he asks, peering up at you with those big brown eyes that you could never say no to.

“go ahead, baby” you smile softly at him and nod. robby leans back and pulls your top over your head. your full, swollen breasts bounce against the swell of your postpartum stomach as they’re freed from the too tight top you were wearing.

robby takes them in, his pupils blowing wide open as he devours them with his eyes. it’s not hungry though, it’s something much more gentle, more soft than the look he would’ve given them before you became pregnant. something in robby flipped when you told him you were expecting. before he was ravenous, wanted to be on you all the time, possessive and borderline rough. but now, whenever he saw you all bare like this he just melted into this sweet little puppy who didn’t know the meaning of the word rough.

“have you pumped today?” robby asks, lowering his face so he’s inches away from your hard nipple. he looks up at you and you shake your head, “not since this morning, had a feeling you’d be having one of those days.” you stroke the side of his face, your nails lightly grazing through his greying beard. he smiles back up at you, a content, lazy smile that has your heart hammering in your chest.

your daughter had stopped taking breast milk a week ago so you had been bottle feeding her formula instead. however, your body was still producing milk and a lot of it at that. but it was fine, robby would never let any of that go to waste.

“thank you, mama” he hums before closing the gap, his lips wrapping around your swollen nipple. his tongue darts over it a couple of times before he softly hollows out his cheeks and suckles on your breast. your eyes flutter closed at the same time as his, a satisfied hum reverberating from each of your throats.

robby’s hand comes up to massage your other breast, gently rolling it in his hand to relieve some of the pressure he knows has been building up all day. the mild taste of your milk hits his tongue and suddenly all his worries and stresses wash away. your hand is still caressing the side of his face, stroking and scratching lightly at his moving cheeks.

“mm, there you go. feelin’ better, baby?” you purr, your breathing becomes steadier as you feel yourself relax, the pressure in your breast slowly coming down. robby hums and nods around your breast, just gently sucking on your nipple, swallowing the steady stream of milk that you’d saved up just for him.

when the stream slows to a drip, robby lets go, releasing your breast from his mouth with a wet pop. he looks up at you, his eyes half-lidded with a lopsided smile on his face before he leans up to kiss you. you can taste yourself on his tongue, it’s dizzying.

“taste’s so good. so perfect, love you so much, thank you mama” his voice is so soft and breathless once he pulls away from the kiss, your eyes are blown wide now, dizzy with desire for him.

“s’okay, baby. mama loves you too” you kiss his forehead before he leans down again, this time swirling his tongue around your other breast. you let a soft gasp escape your lips, heats building fast in your stomach, there’s just something about how gentle and submissive robby can be that got you so worked up.

he latches on again, his tongue working your nipple as he sucks gently. his hands are on your naked waist, just holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him there. you slide your hand down his chest over his scrubs, pawing and grabbing at his soft tummy on your way down to his own waist. your fingers clumsily fiddle with the button of his cargo’s before you finally manage to pop it open and unzip them.

you slip your hand in and pull his soft cock out of his pants, lazily pumping it in your hand as he feeds on you. he becomes hard almost instantly and the way he’s groaning around your nipple now has your eyes rolling back from pleasure. you give his cock a gentle squeeze before quickening your pace.

“mmm, y’like that baby? like it when mommy gets you off while you’re being so good f’me? making me feel so good, such a good boy f’mommy” you’re babbling now, completely lost in the moment. robby looks up at you, his deep brown eyes so intoxicating you can help but get lost in them.

“mhmm” he’s moaning around your nipple, sucking harder, faster, not enough to hurt but enough to make you feel it. which you do, deep in your core.

pre leaks from his flushed tip, dripping down your knuckles as his hips buck up to meet your fist desperately. you can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips, “someone’s a little needy today, huh? such a greedy little baby, bet you’re just dying to cum aren’t you? that what you want? want mommy to make you cum in her hand?”

robby releases your breast from his mouth and surges up to kiss you, it’s not forceful, just desperate. your free hand comes up to his shoulder, pushing him back down. “god, you are needy today.” you laugh, a smirk pulling at the corner of your lips.

“s-sorry mommy” robby whimpers, his hooded eyes dropping to where your hand is wrapped around his throbbing cock, watching intently as you jerk him off. his hips writhe under your hand, you can tell he’s trying so hard not to thrust up, trying to be a good boy for you.

“s’okay baby, i know you can’t help it. just a greedy little thing aren’t you?” you reach over to kiss his cheek, your hand caressing the side of his face again and he leans into it, nuzzling your palm.

“ye-fuck—yeah, just need you so bad, mommy. want to be inside of you” he whines, his eyes rolling back as he nears closer to his orgasm. his hands fly up to grip your waist, needing to hold onto something, anything to keep him still.

“i know, baby. i know. but the doctor hasn’t cleared me yet, don’t want to hurt mommy do you?” you coo, throwing out your bottom lip. your recovery had been taking a little longer than expected, much to both of yours dismay.

robby shakes his head feverishly, his bottom lip thrown out just like yours. he’s panting now between small whimpers that 6 months ago he would’ve been embarrassed about, but not now. how could he be embarrassed to show the woman who gave him everything how good she makes him feel, how much he loves her?

his veins pulse under your hand, you can tell he’s about to cum and so you get onto your knees and bend down to press a wet kiss to his leaking tip. robby groans then, a guttural groan ripped straight from his chest, groans that don’t stop coming as you wrap your lips around him and start sucking, hollowing out your cheeks while you bob your head in tandem with your hand.

“fuck–mommy, oh fuck. shit–i’m gonna, oh god—” robby groans wildly now, not bothering to stop his hips from thrusting up into your face as his body shakes. his hand flying up to grab a fistful of your hair as he spills into your hot mouth, filling up your cheeks with his thick release.

you swallow around him, making sure not to waste a single drop, just like he had done with you. after a few more sloppy thrusts into your mouth he stills, collapsing backwards onto the couch, his tummy heaving as he tries to catch his breath. you pull off then and crawl over him, lowering yourself onto his chest as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight to him.

“th-fuck–thank you, mommy” he huffs out breathlessly, his hand coming up to stroke the back of your head, patting your head a few times before he lazily presses a kiss to your forehead.

“s’okay baby, i trust you’ll pay me back for all of this when i’m cleared…” you giggle and robby returns the laugh, though it’s half-hearted through his exhaustion.

“oh yeah…and then some”

a robby mommy kink fic has been a long time coming. god, idk where this came from, blacked out and there it was oopsie. hope you enjoyed <3333

want to be added to my robby taglist .ᐣ reply to this post ᝰ.ᐟ (taglist is tagged from another acc)

You bolt up in a scramble of limbs, your figure a blur of color as you dart to the left. He tsks.

"This is almost too easy, bunny. Don't you know you'll have to run faster than that if you want to get away from me?"

But oh, he can't wait to swallow you whole - bones and all.

When he was a young boy, Father raised foxhounds before they became too troublesome to up-keep.

Sleek, athletic; another weapon utilized in the hunt for generations before Titus was born. While they were an exceptional asset, they required a firm hand to tame - and an even steadier one to control.

Shoved to the ground with your pants around your thighs, ass up and blood oozing from the weeping scrapes on your cheeks, you remind him of the wily beasts. Bucking and snarling beneath the collar of his palm even as his hips rut into the softness of your backside.

Perhaps not a rabbit, he thinks, but a vixen.

"What did I say?" His lips tease the shell of your ear, his voice a low, insidious murmur. "You've got to run faster than that."

You snap your jaws at the side of his head, teeth missing their mark. Tear tracks cut through the dirt clinging to your face, and the scent of moist soil and rot clog your nose. His cock twitches, sheathed in liquid silk.

"Fuck you!"

"Isn't that what I'm already doing, sweetheart?" he coos mockingly. "Or are you too stupid to tell the difference?"

Then Titus grinds your face into the detritus of the forest floor with an unwavering grip around the back of your skull, your hair tickling his palm. Fuck, his hand's so large it nearly encompasses your head, and isn't that a sight for sore eyes?

Seated deep inside you, his shaft pulses.

Your pretty little pussy stretches so wide around his girth the muscles flutter weakly, trying and failing to push him out. Every inch of you is filled to the brim with cock - and then some, several inches of shaft still to go.

"Look at you," he says, tracking the stroke of his free thumb along your entrance in awe. Can't help himself as he pets over where the delicate folds grip onto him like a vice. "Does it hurt?"

He hopes it does, having you at his mercy and forced to take what he gives headier than any drug Viraj peddles. Tiny, miserable sniffles escape as he bullies his way into your body with unrelenting lunges, your walls eventually submitting with a twinge and a sticky squelch of slick.

He slides to the hilt, smooth.

"S'too much, I can't -" a hiccupping whine interrupts you. "Pull out."

Trying to scramble forward off of him is futile, anchored beneath him as you are, but you refuse to give up. Brambles snag on the soft skin of your hands, shallow wells of red opening in the valleys of your palms, and a stray rock cuts into your already shredded cheek.

You've never looked prettier to him than you do in this moment; begging, and desperate for deliverance.

"P-Please."

Your knees spread and your back dips, attempting to slide him out of your throbbing cunt to no avail. If anything, the new angle forces him deeper as you claw at the ground for purchase, your nail beds aching.

"Hm?"

"Please, slow down - hhahh..."

He is a cruel, unfeeling god who offers no drops of mercy. Carving his way through your body as the fat head of his cock scrapes against your cervix. "You can take it."

"No, no, no!"

Fissions of pain racket up your spine, split past your limits as Titus continues to abuse your pussy. Gummy walls rebel, swollen and rubbed raw from the constant friction.

"Fuck, you feel good."

Unlike anything he's ever experienced. Soft and wet and warm. Perfect.

He groans, slides a hand down your trembling flank to hook a paw over your hip. Bones grind as he yanks you back into every punishing thrust. Everything aches - your body a blooming, tender bruise - and sweat dapples your brow, sticks the fine baby hairs to the back of your neck.

"That's it, good girl," he says.

He's the furthest thing from a gentle lover, and yet your clit pulses, neglected and needy. Your pussy squelching obscenely in the dwindling twilight of the forest as slick soaks into the sun warmed earth beneath you.

Meanwhile, the bristling aggression roosted beneath his ribs abates as he loses himself in the soft, silken embrace of you.

"No more," you beg, the first of many tears squeezing past your clenched eyelids. Your breath rattles wet and sticky in your lungs. "C-Can't cum like this - don't wanna cum like this, please."

"Why, worried about what all your dead friends would think?"

You moan in despair, eyes rolling in their sockets. He picked them off one by one until only you remained: his final girl.

Moist breath puffs along the side of your cheek when his chin hooks over your shoulder. Rough lips skate up the slope of your cheek, a faint wetness laving at the delicate flesh of your under-eye as Titus licks up your tears.

Salt burts across his tastebuds, his teeth aching with the desire to rend. A grunt punches its way out of his chest, the squeeze of his fingers tighter than before. "Fuck," he laughs, "I think it's your lucky day, bunny. 'm not gonna kill you - not yet."

This is the most fun he's had in years; a pretty thing like you wrapped nice and snug around his cock, milking him for all he's worth. He's never been allowed to play like these games - always stopped by Father - by Ursula.

But they don't need to know, do they?

You'll be his dirty little secret - locked up for safe keeping.

After all, it can't be too different from minding the foxhound bitches Father reared.

Bitch - his bitch.

A spark of black crackled down his spine. Yeah, he likes the sound of that. And you will too. Maybe. Eventually. Does it really matter what you think?

(It's okay, he'll train you.)

"Gonna..." your head sags, forehead pressed to the dirt in prayer as your thighs begin to shake, clit pulsing in time with your heartbeat. You plead one last time for clemency, lips trembling, "Please."

Emboldened, Titus renews his efforts, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of you. And when he finally pumps you full, you're dumb and dripping. Limb limbed like a marionette with cut strings. Sitting back on his heels, he watches as his cum gushes out of you in a sticky rush, drips down your folds and wets the backs of your thighs.

"We'll work on your manners," he decides, thumb circling your oversensitive clit. Ursula's good for one thing - she did teach him some etiquette after all. "Can't have you misbehaving, can we?"

If you're going to be his pet, you need to act right. As is fitting, and expected, of a Danforth retainer. But then you jolt away with a low hiss, the pressure too much too soon. Aggression boils, roosting beneath his ribs.

Just when he thought you'd be greatful...

He clicks his tongue and digs into the bundle of nerves, feels the hard nub twitch beneath the pad of his finger. Only stops when you beg forgiveness.

"'m sorry, I - I won't mis-misbehave," you sob.

"Now you're getting it." He gathers his spend, fucks it back into you with shallow thrusts of his fingers. "You're a little slow, aren't you? That's okay, I don't need you to think."

feedback is always appreciated

You remembered the pain. The ambulance. The sickening crack that had echoed up your leg.

You also remembered Brendon arriving at the ER. That part had honestly been scarier than the fracture.

Because Brendon Park, the notoriously composed orthopedic trauma surgeon who could calmly handle shattered pelvises while every else spiraled, had walked into your trauma bay looking one bad sentence away from committing a felony.

He'd still been in scrubs. Blood on the sleeve, surgical cap hanging around his neck. His eyes had gone immediately to your leg immobilizer, then your face, then the pain monitor.

"Why is her heart rate still that high?" had been the first thing out of his mouth.

Not hello. Not are you okay. Just immediate interrogation.

The ER nurse, who knew exactly who he was and looked vaguely terrified of him even on good days, had blinked.

"She just came back from imaging—"

"She's already been medicated."

"With what?"

"Brendon," you'd groaned from the bed.

His attention snapped to you instantly, sharp and terrifyingly focused. "Did they move you after the X-rays?"

"Yeah."

"Did it hurt?"

"Yes, because my leg is broken."

His jaw had clenched so hard you thought he might crack a molar.

And somehow things only got worse from there. Because apparently orthopedic surgeons became unbearable when the patient was someone they loved.

You found this out over the next forty-eight hours.

Brendon sat through every consult, every update, every medication discussion.

He questioned your surgeon despite literally being able to perform the operation himself (But he couldn't for obvious reasons).

"You're using the locking plate system?" he asked Garcia with narrowed eyes.

She stared at him. "...Yes?"

"What approach?"

"Brendon."

"What?"

"You are not interrogating my surgery."

"I'm verifying."

"No, you're being annoying."

Then came the surgery, which went well.

Too well, actually, because apparently the moment Brendon heard "successful procedure" his brain immediately transitioned from anxious boyfriend to maximum-security prison warden.

The discharge papers had barely printed before he was taking over.

"No weight-bearing for six weeks," he repeated while adjusting your blankets for the hundredth time.

"I know."

"You use the crutches every single time you get up."

"I know."

"You do not try to hop."

"I'm not an animal, Brendon."

"You joke now," he muttered.

The nurse handed over your prescriptions with visible relief. "You're all set."

You thought freedom awaited you. You were wrong. Because the second you got home, Brendon transformed your apartment into what could only be described as an orthopedic dictatorship.

Within an hour, throw rugs were removed, furniture was rearranged, cords were taped down, ice packs were lined in formation inside the freezer, medications were sorted by time and dosage, and your entire life was relocated to the couch and bedroom so you "wouldn't need unnecessary movement."

You watched all this from the sofa with increasing alarm.

"Brendon."

"Hm?"

"You took my coffee table away."

"It has sharp corners."

"It's a coffee table."

"You're on meds and your balance is impaired."

"Baby, I have one broken leg, not a traumatic brain injury."

The first night home, you woke up at two in the morning needed the bathroom.

And normally, this would not have been an issue. You had crutches, you were medically cleared to use them, you were perfectly capable of traveling the astonishing distance between the bed and the bedroom.

Unfortunately, you were dating Brendon Park.

You'd barely shifted under the blankets before his eyes opened instantly in the dark.

"What are you doing?"

You stared at him. "Were you awake?"

"I am now."

"I need the bathroom."

"Okay."

"...Okay."

But instead of going back to sleep like a normal person, he immediately sat up. Then stood. Then reached for your crutches before you even could.

You blinked at him. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you."

"I can use crutches by myself."

He ignored that. You tried to take the crutches from him, but he held them out of reach.

"Brendon."

"I'm making sure you don't slip."

"You cannot stand in here while I pee."

"Yes I can."

"Brendon."

He finally sighed and backed out exactly one step beyond the doorframe. You stared at him in disbelief.

"Why are you still there?"

"I'm supervising."

"You're insane."

"You love me."

Unfortunately, that was true.

And now, it became a recurring issue. If you adjusted position on the couch, his head snapped up from whatever he was doing.

"Brendon, if you ask me one more question I'm going to fracture your leg too."

"You'd need help reaching me first."

Three days into recovery, cabin fever started setting hard.

You were exhauted, sore, itchy beneath the cast and dressings, and so catastrophically bored that you genuinely considered reorganizing your email inbox for entertainment.

Meanwhile Brendon had become worse. Not better. Worse.

There was something about medical professionals witnessing injuries in clinical detail when it happened to someone they loved.

You could practically see the knowledge haunting him in real time every time he looked at your leg.

So instead of relaxing as you healed, he became even more vigilant. He brought you food, adjusted your pillows, timed your medication down to the minute, and hovered. Constantly.

One afternoon you attempted the dangerous and reckless activity of standing to reach for a book on the kitchen counter.

You hand your crutches, you were stable, you were literally fine. Unfortunately for you, Brendon walked in halfway through.

"What are you doing?"

You nearly jumped. "Jesus Christ!"

"You should've called me."

"For a book?"

"You shouldn't be putting pressure on your other leg for prolonged periods."

He crossed the kitchen in seconds, immediately reaching for your elbow like you were seconds from collapsing.

And then he paused, looking at you properly for the first time all day.

Your messy hair. Your oversized shirt that was definitely his. The irritation building behind your eyes.

Something in his expression softened immediately.

"Honey."

"I know you're worried," you said, quieter now. "I know. But I can't just lie there twenty-four seven while you stare at me like I'm made of glass."

His hand slid carefully around your waist.

"You're not made of glass."

"You treat me like I am."

"That's because you snapped your tibia in half."

"Well, technically it was—"

"Do not correct me on anatomy right now."

He looked exhausted suddently and that finally made the pieces click together.

Brendon wasn't hovering because he thought you were incapable, he was hovering because he was terrified.

Terrified of you getting hurt again. Terrified of complications. Terrified of pain he couldn't fix fast enough.

You reached up, touching the tense line of his jaw.

"Hey."

His eyes flicked to yours.

"I'm okay."

His expression did something painful then. Small. Fragile around the edges in a way Brendon almost never allowed himself to be.

"You were screaming," he said quietly.

"When they moved you in the ER," he continued, voice low. "I heard you from the hallway."

You hadn't realized that stuck with him.

"I've seen people in pain before," he muttered. "Obviously. But hearing you—"

He stopped. You stared at him for a second before your irritation melted clean away.

"Oh, honey."

His laugh came out humorless. "Now I sound insane."

"You are insane."

He rested his forehead briefly against yours.

"You scared the hell out of me."

And for a few days after that, he genuinely tried.

Tried not to hover. Tried not to leap upright every time you shifted. Tried not to track your movements like a paranoid mom.

And that lasted approximately forty-eight hours.

Then he caught you attempting to carry your own tea mug while using crutches.

"What the hell are you doing?"

You froze mid-step. "...Transporting tea?"

"You could spill that."

"Yes."

"You could slip."

"Brendon."

"You have one functioning leg."

"I know."

He took the mug from your hands immediately while looking personally betrayed by your decision-making.

"You are unbelievable."

"I survived medical school," you informed him. "I think I can handle tea."

"That attitude is exactly why you fell down the stairs."

You argued for a good ten minutes. And it dissolved into bickering so domestic and ridiculous that by the end of it both of you were laughing too hard to continue.

Still, the hovering remained. Especially at night.

You once woke up around three in the morning to find Brendon gently checking the circulation in your foot.

"...Baby, what are you doing?" you mumbled sleepily.

"Just making sure swelling hasn't worsened."

"In the middle of the night?"

"I woke up."

Another night you caught him staring at your discharge instructions like they personally offended him.

"Honey, I think you've already memorized those."

"There's a typo."

"You are impossible."

But the worst one, the one that nearly ended with you smothering him with a pillow happened two weeks into recovery.

By then you were mobile. You were comfortable on crutches, restless beyond belief, and deeply tired of being supervised every waking second.

So while Brendon was in the shower, you decided to perform one singular independent task.

Make your own sandwich.

That was it! It wasn't anything dangerous, nothing dramatic, it was just a sandwich.

You were reaching into the fridge when you heard:

"What are you doing?"

You nearly screamed. Brendon stood in the hallway dripping wet, hair soaked, shirt barely put on, staring at you like he'd walked in on a crime scene.

"How do you move so quietly?!" you yelled.

"You weren't in bed."

"I was just making lunch!"

"You should've called me first."

You stared at him in genuine disbelief. "Did you just tell me I should request supervision before making a sandwich?"

"No, I'm not saying—It's just that you're still recovering."

"I have a broken leg, Brendon. Not a terminal illness!"

"I know."

The sharpness drained right out of him and he looked tired again. Worn thin around the edges.

"You think I don't know I'm overdoing it?" he said quietly. "I do."

"But every time I look at your leg, all I can think about is what could've happened if you hit your head too. Or if nobody found you right away, or if the fracture had been worse."

He exhaled slowly.

"And I know you're capable, I know you can use the crutches, I know you're not helpess." His mouth twisted faintly. "You're probably the least helpless person I know."

"Then why are you acting like this?"

"Because I love you."

You looked at him standing there. An exhausted surgeon, damp hair dripping onto the floor, eyes shadowed from stress and lack of sleep. You felt your irritation unravel completely.

"You realize this level of hovering is classified as annoying."

"Last time I checked it was called caring?"

You laughed despite yourself. "C'mere, baby."

He stepped closer instantly. You wrapped your arms around his waist carefully, leaning into him while balancing on one leg.

His hands settled against your back with automatic gentleness, like he was afraid squeezing too hard might hurt you somehow.

"I love you too," you murmured.

"I know."

"But if you follow me into the bathroom one more time, I'm filing a restraining order."

"That seems excessive."

He kissed the top of your head to hide his smile. And annoyingly enough?

Even with the hovering, and the overprotectiveness, and the absolute loss of personal autonomy...

You'd never felt more loved in your life.