Pixieeee

────﹒♡﹒────

You’ve got the tv volume on low, some rom-com you’re half paying attention to. Thinking about Smurf, the grandma from hell. Her and her weird reverse oedipus complex. 

You’d been privy to the weirdness that goes on between her and the guys for years. There’d been many “yo what the fuck” looks sent Deran’s way. He’d always shrug and say something like “that’s just Smurf.” 

When you first started coming around the Cody house, Smurf was not your biggest fan. Always side-eyeing you. Never saying anything outright, but you could definitely tell she didn’t trust or like you. It took some time but she eventually warmed up to you, as much as a woman like her could. You remember her calling you “funny” once, but you don’t think it was a compliment. 

You never thought the ire she usually reserved for Cath would be turned to you, but you guess that’s what you get for stealing away her “baby”, Andrew. 

You’re still deep in thought when you hear the key turn in your door. Pope comes in carefully, toeing off his boots at the door. 

“Hey babe…” you say cautiously. 

Pope doesn’t respond; just makes his way over and settles in next to you, wrapping you up in his arms. He lets out a deep sigh, nuzzling his face into your hair. You let him hold you for a moment, feeling his body melt into yours. 

You lean back slightly, meeting his eyes. They’re full of his usual intensity, but there's an edge to it that’s not normally there when you two are together. 

“You wanna talk about the fight with your mom?” you ask carefully. 

Pope grumbles, giving you a questioning look. 

“Deran and Craig told me.” 

“Of course.” He huffs. “Nosy fuckers…” 

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up your throat. Earning you a pointed look from Pope. 

“Sorry…” you say, rubbing your hands along his chest. 

“They tell you what she said…?” 

You let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah… apparently I’m a tramp.” 

“You’re not.” Pope says angrily. Gripping your jaw, keeping your eyes on him.

“Babe…” you say, nuzzling your face into his palm. “You okay?” 

Pope grunts, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“M’ better now that I’m with you.” 

“What about Smurf…” you sigh. “I mean- it’s not great if she hates me. Hates us… together.” 

“She’ll get over it.” 

“And if she doesn’t?” you question. 

“Then that’s her problem.” Pope says flatly. 

“I don’t want to cause any issues between you and your mom…” 

“I already have issues with Smurf.” 

You’re about to protest when Pope holds your face in his hands, looking deeply into your eyes. 

“I’m not gonna let her get between us.” 

“Andrew…” you whisper.

“I’m not good at this… the talking.” Pope huffs “It’s hard for me sometimes…” 

You nod, giving him a look of encouragement. Rubbing your hands along his chest. 

“You mean more to me than anything.” Pope says softly. “You see me… not my fucked up parts. But me.” he caresses face, leaning his forehead against yours. “I’m not losing you.” 

You snuggle closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“You’re not gonna lose me.” you say, giving him a gentle peck on the lips. 

“I love you Andrew.” you say, clinging to him. 

“I love you too.” 

────﹒♡﹒────

Rounds took twenty minutes longer with you on shift. Not because you were slow. Quite the opposite, actually; you were sharp and clearly used to the pace of emergency medicine. It was that you turned every plan into a discussion. Every diagnosis came with the mention of a paper you’d read at two in the morning or a case study you’d been flipping through. Every medication choice earned a raised eyebrow and a, "Walk me through that one."

It wasn’t condescension or even really judgement. You never challenged him in front of patients. Never made a fuss out of ego. You simply seemed constitutionally incapable of accepting because I said so as a reason. You had to know how he got to a diagnosis, how his mind had worked through the puzzle. 

Most attendings would have hated it.

Jack found himself annoyed, but also…somewhat flattered.

You listened. Really listened. If his reasoning was better, you changed course without sulking or making excuses. You just wanted to know how his brain ticked. Wanted to chase after his mind the way you chased after him in the halls of the ED. It was a little endearing. So he let it go on even while it bugged him, because at the end of the day being chased after felt surprisingly good.

He’s just a man, after all.

It became your routine. He'd finish giving instructions. You’d linger. There'd be a pause. Somewhere between three to five seconds depending on how much caffeine you’d managed to consume that night and how convinced you were that he was wrong. He'd hear you inhale and without looking up he'd say, "Go ahead."

"...I think we should image first."

Or

"...I have concerns."

Or

"...Respectfully-"

Always respectfully, but never quietly. Jack feels his lips twitch even while he sighs.

You occupied space the way people did when they'd spent their whole lives having to prove they deserved to be there. Unyielding when you thought you were right, you’d stand there with a chart tucked under one arm and wait for him to talk you around. More than once he'd caught another resident watching the exchange with wide eyes, clearly expecting him to shut it down.

He never did.

Irritatingly, you made him a better lead attending. You caught things, asked questions no one else bothered to ask him anymore. You refused to let habit masquerade as good medicine - even when it was, objectively, good medicine.

You were exhausting.

You were excellent.

And every now and then, when you’d finally accept his reasoning with a reluctant little nod and disappear to practice medicine instead of debate it, he'd catch himself feeling almost fond.

It wasn’t that he'd won, it was that you’d made him earn it.

It didn’t take him long to realize that you hassled him so often because you wanted his attention. Wanted a pat on the head and a nice catch, doctor. The thing was, he wasn’t exactly the kind of man to hand out compliments like halloween candy. He gave you the occasional nod or fist bump, but that just had you coming back even harder, pressing your points shaper, trailing after him like a baby chick just peep peep peep-ing away. 

He hated to admit it, but the reason he found it annoying instead of outright infuriating was twofold. First, you were just so damnably earnest. And second? You were frustratingly pretty. He knew it wasn’t exactly appropriate, since he was technically your superior, but he tells himself that it’s not like you’re his resident. You’re an attending. An adult and a doctor in your own right. And really, what’s he supposed to do? Not notice how you fill out your scrubs as you chase after him running your pretty mouth?

He’s only a man after all.

Sometimes though you just don’t know when to give it a rest. It’s after one of the rough nights in the lead up to halloween where you just would not shut up that has him finally boiling over. Jack finally turns to corner you in the lingering shadows of the ambulance bay while you walk out towards the parking lot in the early morning light. His hand finds the back of your neck without much thought, gripping you firm to make sure you’re paying attention. 

“Enough,” Jack says, voice firm and eyes locked onto yours. “Take it easy, alright? You’re doing just fine. You’re good and I know it. You can let go.”

He felt more than saw you freeze. Heard the click of your throat as you swallowed. Saw the way your cheeks flushed, the way your pupils dilated. And all together…well. His brain presented him with the most devastating little realization.

He’d though you were just desperate to prove yourself, but that wasn’t it at all. You kept chasing after him because you wanted attention. His attention. Not just intellectually, like he’d assumed. No…you wanted him.

“...well look at that,” he murmured, voice dropping into a lower register. He brushed the thumb of his free hand over your bottom lip. “You do have an off switch.”

You squeak, but stay right where you are. Eyes locked on him, relaxed rather than tense under his hands…

Fuck it. He’s only a man.

“…that all you’re after sweetheart? Just wanna be told you’re pretty and doing a good job?”

You nod as well as you can with his hand still on your neck. 

“None of that now, pretty girl. You are my smart, pretty girl aren't you?” he asks, thumb tapping softly on your lip.

You open your mouth to let him push it inside, sucking automatically as your tongue glides along the pad. 

“Ohhh yes. So smart, sweetheart, I knew you were.” Jack all but coos as your eyes go glassy. “A regular little brainiac for me. Working so hard for me all night. You wanna come work for me all morning too?”

Your breath hitches as you nod again, cheeks still hollowed around his thumb.

He pulls his hand away, pressing his lips to yours before you can complain. Jack grabs hold of your hips as he pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, pulling you in to grind against him. “Gonna need you to use your words, sweetheart. You can do that right? Go on, use your words like a big girl. Tell me what you want; no hard feelings either way.”

“Jack…”

He chuckles, pushing your hips away from his. “Nuh uh, I know my name. Gotta use your words for me smart girl.”

You whimper at the sudden distance, trying to get back flush to him and the thick length that had been pushing against your tummy. “I want you. Take me home?”

“Thaaaats it,” he grins, finally tugging you back into him. “What a good girl you are, being so clever for me.”

You follow him to his truck, Jack keeping a hand on your thigh for the drive back to his house. His hand stokes you firmly, a wordless little pet that makes your blush linger as you take shy little glances at him. He looks at you as you finally park and make it inside, brushing one of the locks that’s fallen out of your updo back behind your ear. 

“Still want to do this?”

You nod, a shiver racing down your spine when Jack gives you an unimpressed look at you not using your words. “Yes. I want to.”

“Good girl,” he breathes out.

And then he’s on you. 

It’s not feral or overwhelming. He doesn’t pounce so much as pull you in. By the time he has you splayed out on his bed he’s managed to kiss that dazed look back onto your face. “Easy now. Be a sweet girl and let me look at you, hm?”

You peel your scrub top off, Jack’s eyes raking over your chest. “Yeah, sweetheart, just…like…” he pushes you, making a little huff of air leave you as your back hits the mattress. “...that.”

With deft hands he unhooks your bra, taking a moment to just look at you before he taps your hip to get you to lift your hips. Jack hooks his fingers into both your scrub pants and your panties, dragging them down your thighs until you’re left bare before him. Your knees come together as your hands come up to cover your breasts.

“Oh no,” Jack coaxes, gently grabbing hold of your wrists. “Don’t you go shy on me now, pretty girl.” You let him pull your hands away, only for him to palm your breasts himself. He stokes his thumbs over your nipples to make them peak, desperate to kiss and suck but still blocked by your knees. “Come on sweetheart, don’t make me guess. You jabber at me all night long, I wanna hear my smart girl now, too. What do big girls do?”

Your face flushes at the reminder to use your words, but you manage to answer. “...you…you have too much on.”

Jack grins at you. “Is that all pretty girl? I can fix that.”

He strips down without hesitation, casting his clothes to the floor and setting his prothesis to the side of the nightstand. “Better?” he asks, coming back to you.

You don’t answer. Instead you pull him back down into a searing kiss, arms going over his shoulders as your knees finally part to let him nestle between your thighs. You can feel his palms glide down your sides, changing the angle of your hips to let him lean more of his weight into you, before they go right back to your breasts. 

Jack breaks the kiss to mouth down your neck, delighting in all the little sighs and gasps you make. He smiles into your skin as he works his way back down to your chest. God. And to think you’d been so very annoying for months. He could kick himself for not realizing sooner that all it took to make you close your mouth was to cover it with his. 

He nipped at one firm peak. “Tell me again about that head lac from earlier?”

“W-what?” you stutter.

Jack sucked hard at the soft skin under your breast, until he was sure there’d be a mark. “The head lac. Present it to me again.”

You start to talk, words coming slow and stilted. Jack spends the entire time working over your breasts, sucking marks into the skin when you stutter, rolling your pretty nipples when you manage to remember how to speak. “That’s it, sweetheart. Keep going for me,” he encourages, starting to move down your stomach. “The STEMI from room 8?”

It’s exponentially harder to remember your own name, let alone the case, as Jack settles between your thighs. You moan as his fingers stroke through your wet folds, bucking up into his feather light touch. He chuckles, face pressed against your leg. “Easy there, pretty girl. Just checking.” He settles a thumb on either side of you, pushing them apart until he can see your entrance flutter. “So wet, sweetheart. You always get so excited when you’re hearing yourself sound so smart?” 

He’s not even sorry for the wicked grin that crosses his face when he sees you clench on nothing at the compliment. “Oh yeah?” he muses, leaning forward to lick a broad stripe up you, the tip of his tongue flicking your swollen clit at the top. “Keep going then, brainiac.”

Your hands find his hair as he sets to work, big hands keeping your thighs spread as he listens to you…try. He can tell you’re doing your best, but so is he - and it’s making you completely lose your train of thought. He slips two broad fingers into you and you tell him three times what the patient’s potassium levels were. He curls them, beginning to slowly rock them into you while his tongue refocuses on your clit, and you start telling him disjointed bits of medical jargon. And when his free hand lets go of your thigh to pull up the hood so he can suckle your bud and work over it with fast little laps? All that's left is pathetic little cries of his name.

Jack pulls back, fingers leaving your slick folds as you whine beneath him. “Ohhh what’s wrong sweetheart? Are you not my smart girl anymore?” He licks his fingers clean before taking hold of himself and running the swollen red tip of his cock through your wetness. “That’s alright. You can still be my pretty girl and she can be clever,” he coos, eyes locked on your pussy. 

“Look at her. Knows just what she wants. Already trying to suck me in…”

Your eyes roll back as he pushes his hips forward, a low punched out sound escaping him as he feeds you every inch. By the time his hips touch yours it feels like he’s deep in your stomach. Your every thought has boiled down to him, to how good he makes you feel, to the tone of his voice now that language has started to escape you.

Jack leans forward to capture your mouth in a kiss that tastes like your juices. He groans as he starts to thrust, a steady stream of words pouring out of his mouth that are all colored by praise.

“There we go, pretty girl, you just let me do the work. Such a mouthy thing, but your big brain must live in your pussy, huh? She got herself all wet for me, gripping me so tight, knows just what she needs to do to let me make her feel good. My pretty girl with her clever little cunt…”

so he can't help the surge of panic that surges through his body like a lit match when, a month after he's been out, he's out to lunch with you when he runs into his cellmate, vin.

"so, you must be the missus. huh?" he teases in snarky voice, his eyes raking over you in a slow perusal that makes andrew's blood boil hotter than the flush across his skin, his fist clenching to stop himself from lunging at him.

"the missus?" you ask, laughing a little as you glance at pope. your laugh dies down when you notice the intense look he's giving this guy and the red splotches across his neck. your attention is pulled back to whoever this random guy is when you hear your name come from him. "uh, yeah. that's me. sorry, do i know you?"

"oh, i'm sorry. i guess i ruined the surprise," vin lips his lips, nodding toward your hand. "guess popey here hasn't popped the question. just confused. he wouldn't shut up about you in there, only talked about getting back to his girl. he kept talking about finally cuffing you up when we were inside, just thought he'd do it pretty quickly after getting out. still just the girlfriend, then?"

"o-oh," you stutter out, your face flushing as you glance back at andrew. his face is pinched in that way it does when he's trying to calm himself down, remind himself to breathe. his focus on his cellmate doesn't break until he feels your fingers ghost down his arm. when he finally looks at you, your stomach turns at how quickly his expression softens.

you always thought there was something between you and pope. the first time you came to a cody party, you weren't at all prepared for how overwhelming it'd be. you had been hanging around the cody's for almost two months now after meeting deran at one of adrian's local surf competitions. it was also the day you accidentally walked in on him and adrian being... intimate. you reassured deran that you didn't care, you already knew about adrian being gay and you never told anyone about him so his secret would be safe with you, too.

the night of the party, you made it about an hour before deran completely ditched you to jump off the roof with craig into the pool, the activity quickly becoming competitive between the brothers. you decided you were over it before wandering inside, quickly isolating yourself in the one room you knew no one would find themselves in: andrew "pope" cody. you hadn't expected to find him there already, sitting rigidly on his bed, facing the window. his head snapped over toward his door when you opened it, his posture loosening when he noticed it was just you.

"you okay?" he asked quietly, his voice strained from not using it.

"s'too loud out there, and deran ditched me. i don't know anyone else." you walked further into the room, climbing into pope's bed after toeing your shoes off. "do you mind?" you suppressed your smile when he shook his head with no hesitation. he wordlessly grabbed a shirt and a pair of shorts from his drawer before tossing them at you.

"change." he demanded softly, frowning before adding, "please. outside clothes."

since that moment, you and pope had grown attached to the hip. you came over even without deran just to spend time with pope, which confused him at first considering you two mostly just either sat on the couch in silence of laid in his bed after you changed into his clothes. surely you had more fun with deran. but he never questioned you, afraid you would take it the wrong way and stop coming over.

but you didn't realize pope thought of you as his girlfriend. not that it bothered you.

"popey was a little loopy most days in there. was he talking out of his ass about his pretty, young thing?" vin interrupts the look between you and pope, bringing you back to the present.

"if pope said i'm his girlfriend, then that's what i am," you say easily, giving his hand a squeeze. he squeezes your hand back, tugging you a little closer toward him.

"well, s'nice to meet you, sweetheart," he gives you a wink, his gaze returning to pope. "give me a call sometime, pope. we've got some things to catch up on," he says pointedly, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away, his shoulder brushing past pope's.

"vin was my cellmate," he offers quietly. "told him, everyone about... well, you. i-i'm sorry."

"for what?" you say softly, one of your hands coming up to brush through pope's steadily growing hair, the curls starting to take form again, much to your delight.

"you're not mad?" he frowns, his brows furrowing when you shake your head. "you're not gonna tell deran?"

"why would deran care?" you say, laughing a little.

"he's your actual boyfriend. i would care."

"what!" you shriek, rearing back in disbelief. "deran is not my boyfriend."

"he isn't?"

"pope, if deran was my boyfriend i'd be an awful girlfriend. i used to sleep with you in your bed. i'd sneak out of his room to sit with you on the couch whenever i did pass out in his room. i've thought about you everyday that last three years you've been away." you sidle up closer to him again, reaching over to grab his other hand so you were holding both of them. "if i'm anyone's girlfriend," you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile, "i'm yours."

"yeah?" he mumbles, letting you maneuver his hands to wrap around your waist, fighting the urge to pull you flush against him when your arms come up to wrap around his neck.

"yeah," you mumble back, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "now," you continue, your lip still pressed against his skin, "let's go get some lunch." your lips press against his cheek one more time before moving to hover just above the corner of his mouth. "i'm starving."

────﹒♡﹒────

You’re finishing up your makeup when you hear Pope enter your apartment. You know he’s gonna die when he sees you in the outfit you chose for tonight. 

“Sweetheart?” you hear him call from the living room.

“In here babe! I’m almost ready!” 

Pope enters your room, stopping in his tracks when he sees you slightly bent over your vanity, dress riding up. Giving him a peak at the pink thong you’re wearing underneath. 

You look over your shoulder at him, fighting a smirk at the look on his face. He’s got his eyes glued to your ass, lips parted. 

“You like my outfit, Andy?” Picked it out just for you…” you voice drips with sensuality. 

You turn around, moving to him. Running your hands down his chest. 

“Pretty.” he mumbles. 

You press your chest to his, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Just pretty?” you pout playfully. 

“Gorgeous.” 

“Mmm, that’s better.” you give him a kiss, teasingly rubbing your body against his front. Feeling a twitch in his jeans. 

Pope sucks in a breath, gripping your hips roughly. 

“You teasin’ me sweetie?” His voice gruff. 

“Maybe…” you giggle, looking up at him through your lashes. You turn away to check your phone. It’s a little past nine. “We should probably head out.”

Pope grumbles, moving closer, pressing you against your vanity. 

“We could stay in…” Pope mumbles into your ear. 

“Let’s go to the party for just a little bit, honey. Then we can come home and… maybe I’ll give you a little treat…” your voice coming out sweet and teasing. 

Pope groans, pushing himself against your ass. He’s already half hard. 

You squeak out a breathy giggle, your resolve starting to waver. 

“Be patient Andy…” you bend over slightly, reapplying your gloss and grinding your ass against his jeans. 

Pope grunts, gripping onto you tighter. “We’re not making it out of here if you keep doing that.” 

You turn around in his grasp, bringing your hands up to run your fingers through his hair. 

“Let me have my fun for an hour or two….” you pull at his curls, making him whimper. “And then we’ll have our own fun later…” 

You move around him, gathering your stuff before heading out. You hear Pope huff, following close behind you. 

────﹒♡﹒────

“I’m gonna go find Deran. Would you get me a seltzer, babe?” 

“Sure.” Pope says, squeezing your hand before heading off to the kitchen. 

You scope out the house; spotting Deran out by the pool, smoking a joint with Craig.

Walking through the mingling bodies, you head out to join them. 

“Ah! My idiots!” 

“Yo-” Craig starts to say before looking over at you. “DAMN Y/N.” 

You snort out a laugh “I take it I look good tonight?” 

“Hell yeah, bro.” Craig nods in approval, giving you a fist bump. 

“What’re you up to?” Deran asks, unamused. 

“Nothing terrible D, chill.” you roll your eyes, scanning the party for Cath. 

“Y/n…”  Deran starts.

“Oh my god.” you turn to Deran, putting your hands on his shoulders. “I’m good, I promise. I’m not gonna jump Cath. I’m just making it known that Andrew is off limits…” you looking around at the party, eyes narrowed. “Not just to Cath… but to all these horny bitches.” 

Craig snorts loudly, coughing through the cloud of smoke that’s escaping from his mouth. 

Deran’s about to say something else but you cut him off. “Deran I love you, but seriously. Chill. I’m good. Really good. I promise.” 

Deran blows a breath out and takes a pull from his beer, muttering “Alright”

You look over your shoulder, seeing Pope make his way towards you. 

“Got you a mango one.” 

“Thank you, Andy.” you say laying a big kiss on his cheek; leaving behind a sparkly, glossy kiss mark. Deran and Craig both make exaggerated gagging sounds. 

You flip both of them off, taking a sip of your seltzer. Your gaze moves across the party, trying to find your target. 

Couple arguing. Couple making out. Guy doing coke. Two drunk guys crushing beer cans against their foreheads. A woman throwing it back (very badly). Baz looking bored. Bingo. 

There she is. Cath. Unassuming. Talking to Baz about something, brows furrowed. 

“What are you looking for?” Pope says flatly. 

“Oh nothing, honey. Just taking in the shit show” you say, leaning into him. He instinctively wraps an arm around your waist, hand resting on your hip. 

“Oh yo I saw that weird ass bug again…” Craig says enthusiastically. 

Craig rambles on, something about the bug stalking him? You think you hear something about the bug being a spy for the government. You’re not really paying attention; your eyes on Cath. 

Baz notices your staring first; smirking, his eyes looking you up and down. Cath’s attention drifting to you next. 

You turn away, looking back at Pope. He’s looking at Craig like he’s grown a 2nd head. You cup his jaw and move his face to yours, giving him a sloppy, needy kiss. Pope freezes for a moment, surprised by the sudden PDA but quickly settles into the rhythm of it. Pope’s grip on your hip tightens, fingers digging into your pelvis. 

“Yo! Get a room!” Deran scoffs, disgusted. 

You pull away, a string of spit still connecting your lips. Pope’s mouth covered in your gloss, his eyes hooded. 

“What was that for?” 

“Just wanted to taste you.” you say, running your thumb across his bottom lip. 

“EW. We’re still here, you know.” Deran prods again. 

“Be glad that it’s just kissing, Andrew and I could always go and christen the new hot tub?” 

“NO FUCKING IN THE NEW HOT TUB.” Craig shouts, earning more than a few glances from other party goers. 

Pope tenses next to you, glaring at his younger brother. 

“What about the hot tub?” Cath says, joining the group. Baz close behind. 

“They fucked in the old hot tub.” Craig says matter of factly. 

Cath lets out a shocked laugh, cheeks blushing red.

“Is that why you wanted my help moving the old one out?” Baz questions, visibly horrified. 

Craig nods, about to spout off more bullshit when you cut in. 

“Oh my god Craig, we did not.” You say rolling your eyes. “We’ve been over this, it was DRY HUMPING.” 

Your declaration earns a chorus of groans from Deran, Craig and Baz. Pope coughs, visibly embarrassed. 

“Sorry babe…” you cringe. You lean in close, lips to his ear. “I’ll make it up to you later…” you whisper, biting at his ear lobe. He sucks in a breath, delivering a slap to your ass. A warning. It makes you giggle. 

You turn back to the conversation. Craig’s moved on to talking about the “ass-plosion” he got from a food truck downtown. You catch Cath’s eye; giving her a smile that doesn’t fully reach your eyes, leaning closer to Pope. 

“Ew dude, no one wants to hear about your diarrhea.” Deran says.

“Hey I’m just trying to warn the people.” Craig objects. “Mr. Hot Dog’s Italian-Korean-Mexican fusion truck tried to poison me!” 

You snort, taking another sip from your drink.  

────﹒♡﹒────

The night passes with a blur. You and Pope moving around the party. 

You’ve been glued to him the entire night, with your hand placed firmly on his ass. Claiming him. Whispering teasing, dirty things in his ear. Sucking face whenever you can. You were all over him, making it very well known that this man belonged to you. 

And Cath…. couldn’t care less. She’d made polite conversation. Looked over a total of 2 times. Both were at you, smiling and giving a small wave. Unfortunately, it seemed Baz was the one who’d been watching you and Pope like a hawk. 

Pope’s sitting on one of the loungers by the pool, you perched on his lap. His hand on your thigh. You’re chatting with Deran when you hear one of your favorite songs play over the speakers. 

“Oh I love this song!” you clap. “Andy… I wanna dance…” 

“Okay, go ahead. I’ll watch you.” he says, patting your thigh. 

“Nooo, want you to dance with me.” you pout.

Deran lets out a snorting laugh and Pope gives you a pointed look. 

You huff, rolling your eyes. “You’re no fun” you say, untangling yourself from him and heading to the makeshift dance floor that's formed. 

Letting the music carry you, you dance around. Swaying your hips to the beat, running your hands through your hair. You roll your hips, dragging your hands across your hips and pelvis; not breaking eye contact with Pope. You smile, giving him a wink. Putting on a show for him, like no one else is there. 

He’s got a hunger in his eyes as you let the music flow through your body. You turn away from him, giving your ass a shake. Flipping your hair and looking at him over your shoulder as the song concludes. 

You make your way back over and plop yourself back onto Pope’s lap. Feeling the tent that’s started to grow in his jeans. 

“You have fun?” Pope grunts. 

“Mhm.” you nod, leaning close to his ear. “Feels like you enjoyed the show…” 

Pope grips your thigh, hard. 

“You enjoy teasin’ me like this princess?” Pope growls.

“You know I do Andy…” you lean in, kissing him softly on the lips. 

“I’m going to barf all over both of you.” Deran says from behind you. 

You let out a laugh “Dude, straight up. I forgot you were there.” 

“Yeah I can tell.” Deran shakes his head. “I’m gonna need eye bleach.” he says, leaving the two of you. 

“Love you Douche!” you yell after him, earning you a middle finger over his shoulder. 

You turn your attention back to Pope. He’s palming your ass and kissing your neck. 

“Had fun tonight Andy… thank you.” you sigh. 

He grunts in response, too focused on kneading your ass. 

You bite his earlobe, running a hand down his stomach. 

“Don’t wanna share you anymore… take me home?” you ask, voice turned husky. 

Pope leans back and nods his head. His eyes are practically black; his irises two thin, hazel rings. He quickly moves you both up and off the lounger, grabbing you by the hand and dragging you out towards the front door. 

You’re on your way out when you run into Cath and Baz. 

“Hey guys! You heading out too?” Cath says, giving you a warm smile. 

You lean in closer to Pope, wrapping your arms around his bicep, resting your head against his shoulder. 

“Hey Cath… yeah I can tell Andy’s eager to get out of here.” you laugh, snuggling closer. “Wants me all to himself.” you tease. 

Cath laughs awkwardly, nodding her head. 

“Yeah I’m sure he does…” Baz smirks. 

Both you and Cath glare at him, Pope tensing under your grip. 

“Don't be a creep… Barry.” you sneer, eyes narrowing. Making Baz freeze under your scrutinizing gaze.

Cath huffs, turning her body away from her husband. 

“I’ll see you around y/n. Maybe we can get a coffee sometime?” Cath sighs, attempting a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. 

You look at Cath. Really look at her. She looks… tired. Worn down. You suddenly feel sorry for her, rather than threatened by her. 

“Yeah, let’s do it. I’ll text you.” you say.

Pope lets out a grunt, flexing his hands. 

“That’s my cue.” you laugh, waving goodbye to Cath. Not sparing Baz another glance, as Pope drags you to the car. 

────﹒♡﹒────

“You were being weird tonight.” 

Your head whips over to Pope, a brow arching. 

“What?” you laugh. “I wasn’t being weird.” 

“You were.” Pope clears his throat. “You kept staring at Cath… and you were all over me. Not that I mind…” 

Pope pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex, turning off the car and facing you. 

“It felt… weird,” he says quietly. “Like you were trying to prove something.” 

You sigh, fiddling with your nails, not meeting his eye. 

“I just… I wanted everyone to know you were mine… that you’re off limits.” you say softly, vulnerable. “You’re not the only one who gets possessive Andrew.” 

You look over at him, meeting his heated stare. 

“Sweetheart…” Pope leans in closer, thumb running across your cheek. 

“I- I love you so much Andrew. Never felt this way before…” you lean into his touch, nuzzling against his palm. “Any time another woman looks at you… I just- I get crazy.” 

Pope’s breath catches, brushing his lips against yours.

“I don’t see anyone else but you. Not Cath. Not any other woman…” he whispers against your mouth. “You’re it for me, y/n.” 

You close the distance, giving Pope a searing kiss. He moans into your mouth, matching your intensity. He runs his hand down your side, gripping your hip tightly, pulling you closer. You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly, as your tongues battle for dominance. 

Pope whimpers, pulling away and leaning his forehead against yours. 

You smile at him, laughing breathlessly. 

“Let’s go inside, Andy…” you nuzzle your nose against his, voice soft. 

────﹒♡﹒────

Pope’s seated on the edge of your bed, chest heaving and eyes dark. You’re standing in front of him between his knees, heels discarded, your hands resting on his shoulders. He’s running his hands along the backs of your thighs, drifting up to cup your ass. 

“Andy…” you moan, enjoying the feeling of his hands on you. 

“What do you want, y/n.” Pope groans. “Tell me what you want.” 

“Your mouth…” you bite your lip, looking down at him with half lidded eyes. “Want to feel your mouth on me again… your tongue…” 

Pope freezes for a moment, eyebrows raising. 

“You mean….?” he questions.

You nod, slowly pulling your dress over your head. You’re bare except for a tiny pink thong. 

Pope groans, burying his face between your breasts. You gasp, gripping at his curls. 

He leans back, looking up at you with eyes black. “Get on the bed, sweetheart.”

You nod, doing as you're told. Extracting yourself from him and laying down in the middle of your bed. Head flopping against your pillows, with your hair cascading around you. 

Pope is at the end of your bed, watching you. Cataloging your every feature.  

You let your thighs spread apart, showing off the wet patch that’s formed on your clothed core. 

“Need you, Andy…” 

Pope licks his lips, crawling on top of you. Caging your body with his. 

He kisses you, deeply and passionately. Slipping his tongue in your mouth, exploring. You run your hands through his hair, tugging on his curls as you match his rhythm. 

He works his way down slowly; kissing along your jaw to your neck. Making sure to leave (not so) little love bites across your throat. Marking you. Dragging his lips down farther, he kisses along the swell of your breasts. Swirling his tongue around your peaked nipples. You gasp out, throwing your head back, hips grinding against him. 

Pope makes sure to give both of your breasts the attention they deserve. Kneading and nibbling until you're begging. 

“Andrew…” you whine, gripping his shoulders tightly. Trying to push him down to where you want him most. 

Pope groans, continuing his descent. Licking and kissing along the expanse of your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your panties. He looks up at you, taking the thin fabric between his teeth and letting it snap against your mound. 

You gasp, legs spreading wider.

“Is this okay?” Pope asks, checking in. 

“Mhmm… don’t stop. Please.” you nod vigorously, begging. 

Pope pulls your panties down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder. He settles himself in between your spread thighs, moaning when he gets a look at your soaking wet pussy. 

He spreads your lips, sighing contently; gazing hungrily at your glistening folds, your neglected clit, your hole clenching around nothing. He stares like he’s trying to memorize the look of you. 

“Andy… please.” you whine, tears pricking your eyes. “Can’t take it anymore…” 

Pope keeps his eyes locked on yours, leaning in, giving a slow testing lick against your twitching clit. Moaning at the taste of you. He licks along your folds, tasting your juices. Gives his tongue a few thrusts into your tight hole. 

“Still fucking perfect.” he growls, before getting to work. 

He works on your clit first, lapping at it frantically. Swirling his tongue around it, flicking it roughly. 

You arch off the bed, Pope pressing one of his arms across your stomach to keep you in place. Your eyes roll back in your head, grinding your pussy against his mouth. 

He’s lapping at your swollen clit like a man starved, his eyes never leaving your pleasure filled face. Pope wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, hard. 

You squeal, toes curling. “Oh sh-shit Andy… fe-els so fucking good.” 

Pope pulls away, taking a breath. He drags two of his fingers along your clenching hole before stuffing you full, setting a deep, fast pace. The squelching sound filling the room. 

“Doin’ so good for me princess.” he says, voice gravelly. 

Pope curls his fingers, finding that spongy spot inside you, making a low moan tear from your throat. 

Your head is thrown back, cries leaving your mouth as he abuses that spot inside you with his thick fingers. 

“Look at me sweetheart, keep your eyes on me.” 

Doing as you're told, you meet his hungry gaze. Your eyes are hooded, cheeks flushed, hair a mess. 

Pope returns to feverishly licking at your swollen bud, never breaking eye contact. He’s looking at you with such adoration, it makes you want to cry. 

He bullies his fingers deep inside you, pace becoming frantic. Hitting that spot with every thrust. Leaning forward, he sucks at your clit. Moaning deeply against your pussy, making your toes curl and body tense. 

You feel that familiar coil start to tighten, but there’s an edge to it. An unfamiliar feeling. It’s almost too much. 

Your thighs squeeze around his head, hands grabbing at the back of his head. 

“An-Andy… wa-wait. I- FUCK, oh my god- “ you let out a high pitched squeal, eyes crossing. “I-I’m gonna… feels… too much.” you babble. 

Pope smiles, looking up at you. “Let go princess. It’s okay, give it to me.” 

He sucks your clit harder and finger fucks you until you’re screaming. 

You throw your head back, body seizing. Throat turning sore as you screech out “Andy’s” and “fucks”. You release a gush onto his face, soaking him and your bed. 

Your body is still jolting from the after shocks as Pope licks up everything you give him. He doesn’t stop until you're pulling away, overstimulated. He removes his fingers, making you let out a whimper at the emptiness. 

Pope kisses along your stomach and thighs. 

“You okay?” he asks.

“I think I died. Like… actually died.” you croak out, throat raw. “I’ve never… squirted before. Didn’t even think I could.” you smile down at him, slightly embarrassed. “Sorry about the mess…” 

“It’s fine.” Pope says, voice low. “I liked it.” 

He moves back up, so you’re face to face. Kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. When he pulls back, caressing your cheek, he looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world he cares about. 

“Andy… want you…” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes. “Make love to me.” you nuzzle into his palm. 

Pope’s breath catches.

“Are you sure?” 

“Never been more sure, Andrew.” 

Pope kisses you briefly, soft and sweet. 

“Take off your clothes… wanna feel all of you.” you say dreamily. 

Pope nods, pulling his shirt over his head. He makes quick work of the rest of his clothes, kicking off his jeans and boxers. 

He presses your thighs up to your chest, practically folding you in half. You feel his hard cock radiating heat against you. 

“Tell me if it’s too much.” Pope checks in. 

“I will…” 

Pope leans his body over your, lining himself up with your pulsing cunt. He slowly sinks his length into you, stretching you out. Letting you feel every ridge and vein. When he finally bottoms out, you moan together. You with a high pitched squeak, and him with a deep groan.

You’ve never felt so full. 

Pope stays like that, letting you get used to his size. He tucks your hair behind your ear, looking deeply into your eyes.

“You can move, Andrew…” 

“You sure?” 

You nod, smiling at him. 

He slowly pulls out, until just his tip remains. He takes a deep breath and forcefully thrusts back in, bottoming out, punching the air out of your lungs. 

You both let out guttural moans. 

The pace Pope sets is deep, powerful and slow. Making the bed knock against the wall with every thrust. You’re finally getting revenge on your neighbor. 

“Fuck y/n… you feel...” he groans. “Like you were made for me.” 

You scratch your nails down his back, whining with every thrust. The burn in your thighs, as they stay pressed against your chest, only adds to the pleasure. 

Pope fucks you into the mattress, his cock hitting your cervix with each thrust. Keeping his eyes on you. Your lips are parted, little squeaks escaping your mouth, eyes hooded. 

“That feel good?” he asks. 

You moan, nodding your head. “S-so g-ood Andy.” you back arching at a particularly powerful thrust. “Fe-feel so fu- UNGH! Full.” 

Pope leans back, keeping his pace languid, staring at where the two of you meet. Watching the way his cock disappears inside you. Noticing the way he bulges through your tummy. 

He presses down on your stomach, making you arch up into him. You both moaning loudly and wantonly. 

“FU-UCK ANDREW!” you yell, throwing your head back at the feeling of intense pressure. 

Pope’s thrusts speed up, angling his cock so it hits your g-spot. You squeal loudly, eyes rolling back in your head. 

“Does my princess like that?” 

You nod your head lazily, too cock drunk to speak. 

Pope huffs out a laugh; pounding into you, punishing that spongy spot inside of you. 

You drag your hands down his back, taking handfuls of his ass and pushing him deeper. He growls, thrusting into you so hard, you think he might break the bed. 

Pope’s watching your face twist with pleasure, when he brings his fingers to your clit; rubbing the bundle of nerves in tight, fast circles. 

“Want you to cum with me. Please.” he begs, his voice rough. 

You nod your head dumbly, feeling yourself clench around him. 

His thrusts turn frantic, animalistic. Pushing you both over the edge.  

“ANDREW!” You cum with a cry, body convulsing. 

Pope whimpers out “I love you’s” as he thrusts deep inside you, hips stuttering. Coating your walls with hot white ropes of his cum, filling you up. 

You cling to each other as you both ride out your orgasms. 

“I love you, Andrew.” you whisper against his shoulder. 

He rests his head on your chest, letting his body relax against you. “I love you too, y/n.” he rasps out. 

You run your fingers through his curls, feeling him soften inside you. You’re still full of him; his cock and his cum. You love the feeling. 

He groans, looking up at you. “Should get you cleaned up…”

You whine when you feel him reluctantly pull out, his cum leaking from your hole. He gathers it up in his fingers, stuffing it back inside. You let out a satisfied groan, stretching yourself out.

Pope gets up, heads into the bathroom and runs the tub as you lay in the afterglow. He comes back with a damp wash cloth, cleaning up the mess between your legs. 

“Thanks…” you smile up at him, your cheeks still flushed and your hair an absolute mess.

Pope lets out a grunt, smiling back at you. 

────﹒♡﹒────

Pope helped you into the bath, letting you soak for a bit while he washed your bedding. You drift off in the sudsy water, letting the water relax your sore muscles. Enjoying the pleasant ache you feel between your thighs. 

It’s not long before Pope’s making his way back in, helping you out of the tub and drying you off. You’re feeling drowsy, the night's events finally hitting you. 

“M’ tired Andy.” you say, fighting a yawn. He smiles, kissing your nose. 

Pope dotes on you and takes care of you; helping brush out the rats' nest that's formed in your hair. Removing your ruined makeup and doing your skincare for you, gently rubbing in your moisturizer. He pulls one of his shirts over your head and carries you back to the bedroom. 

He lays you down onto the fresh sheets, pulling your spare comforter over your body. You snuggle into the bed; never having felt this relaxed before. 

“Andy… wanna cuddle.” you say sleepily, making grabby hands at him. 

Pope settles in, wrapping his arms around you. 

You snuggle closer to him, letting his warmth envelop you. 

Pope clears his throat. “Was that… okay?” he asks, voice tinged with uncertainty.

You look up at him, dreamily and absolutely infatuated. “It was amazing, Andrew.” you lean up, giving him a gentle kiss. 

The comfortable silence surrounds you both. You start to drift off when Pope speaks. 

“I love you, y/n.” he whispers, gripping you a little tighter.

“Love you too…” you mumble, drifting off to sleep.  

────﹒♡﹒────