He pushed the bedroom door open hard enough for it to rebound against the stopper. “What happened?”

His eyes swept the room automatically, searching for whatever had frightened you. There wasn’t any blood, nor was there anything overturned, and no signs of broken glass.

But then he saw you.

You were standing on the bed, barefoot, clutching a pillow tightly against your chest. Your breathing came in quick, uneven breaths, and your eyes were fixed on something across the room with the sort of panic that made his own pulse pick up.

He followed your line of sight, and he also had the instinct to do a double take at the sight of the spider in which was clung to the wall above the dresser. And it was a big one that’s for sure, bigger than most.

“Jesus honey, i thought something serious happened.” Jack really tried to be serious but he just couldn’t, especially with the way he saw you so terrified of such a thing.

Your widened gaze snapped at his in a second, bewilderment at what you had just heard come out of his mouth. “You cannot be serious! Does this not seem serious enough for you Jack, it’s massive, all i know is that it may bite me then i’ll have to be admitted to the hospital then—“

“Calm down, love.” His gaze drifted back towards the spider, watching it remain perfectly still against the wall before looking at you again, somewhere between amused and genuinely baffled. “I think he’s more scared of you.”

The words had barely left his mouth before he realised he’d chosen the worst possible thing to say.

Your eyes widened impossibly further, your grip tightening around the pillow until your fingers ached. “Excuse me?” you breathed, staring at him as though he’d completely lost his mind. “Jack, that thing has eight legs.”

“So?”

“So?” A disbelieving laugh escaped you as you pointed frantically towards the wall. “It has eight opportunities to sprint at me.”

Jack glanced over his shoulder, half expecting the spider to have grown fangs or doubled in size during the conversation, but in reality it hadn't moved.

When he looked back, you were still rooted to the mattress, refusing to let so much as a toe hang over the edge, your entire body tense like the floor itself had suddenly become lava.

“You know…” Folding his arms loosely across his chest, he tilted his head, his lips threatening to curl into a smile. “I’m having a hard time figuring out which one of you is more terrified.”

Your mouth dropped opyen. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was.”

“Jack.”

“I’m serious.” He nodded towards the wall. “He’s been there this whole time i’m assuming, and yet you’re the only one making all the noise.”

“I screamed because I wanted you.” The words slipped out before you had a chance to think about them.

Jack’s eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. For a brief second, neither of you said anything. “Well…” The corner of his mouth twitched despite himself as he held your gaze. “Can’t really argue with that.”

You caught yourself almost smiling before you quickly schooled your expression. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He pushed himself away from the doorframe, already crossing the room with the same calm confidence he carried through the emergency department. “I wasn’t planning to.”

“No,” you replied, watching him inch closer to the spider with growing horror, “you just happened to be the nearest pest control. Unfortunately.”

That drew a proper laugh from him. “Oh, unfortunately?” He looked back over his shoulder, feigning offence for all of two seconds. “That’s harsh. I’m willing to bet pest control aren’t nearly as handsome as I am.”

You stared at him, thoroughly unimpressed, “you’re unbelievable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“And incredibly humble.”

“I’ve got my moments.” He shrugs without looking back at you.

You groaned into the pillow, though the sound was quickly swallowed by the fabric. Jack only shook his head, unable to stop smiling as he turned his attention back to the spider.

“Jack,” Your voice softened the closer he got to it, every ounce of confidence you’d managed to fake disappearing. “Seriously.”

“Hm?” His eyes remained fixed on the wall.

“It better not jump.”

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s a spider.”

“Exactly.” You bite back instantly.

He let out another laugh, one that sounded far more amused than he was willing to admit, before disappearing into the kitchen.

When he returned a moment later with a drinking glass in one hand and an unopened electricity bill in the other, absolutely nothing had changed. You were still standing exactly where he’d left you in the middle of the bed, the pillow hugged protectively against your chest as your eyes followed him across the room without blinking once.

“You planning on living up there permanently?” he asked, slowing beside the dresser.

“Seems like the safest option.”

“Yeah?” He spared you a glance before looking back at the spider. “Think we can fit a bathroom up there?”

You shot him a look.

“Mock me all you want, I’m not getting down until that thing’s gone.”

“I wasn’t mocking you.”

“Jack.” You say for the hundredth time this evening. His smile finally won. “Alright… maybe a little.”

Without another word, he stepped closer to the wall, placing the glass carefully over the spider in one smooth movement before sliding the electricity bill underneath. The whole thing took less than five seconds.

You blinked, confusion written all over your face. “That’s it?”

Jack held up the glass, the spider now safely trapped inside, nodding at you. “That’s it.”

Your shoulders visibly sagged in relief, though you still eyed the glass suspiciously. “Please don’t drop it.”

He looked at you as though you’d just insulted his entire career. “I’ve got you.” His voice was easy, reassuring. “I think I can manage one spider.”

“And if it escapes?”

“It won’t.”

“But if it does?”

Jack sighed dramatically, already heading towards the front door. “Then I’ll apologise to you…”

He reached for the handle, opening it with one hand while keeping the glass steady in the other, “and to him for having to listen to you scream a second time.”

“Oh, you’re hilarious.”

Pope had just gotten back from a job this morning, a little banged up but nothing more than usual. He took you on one of the nicest dates you've ever been on. Everything had been perfect, the restaurant, the food, the necklace he gifted to you (which you didn't even bother asking where he got it from).

He holds your hand tight as he guides you up the few steps to your front door. When he pulls away to say goodbye you don't let him, squeezing his hand and pulling him to your chest as you lean back on the door.

"What?" Pope asks, looking a little startled at your quickness.

You yank him against you, slamming your lips to his for a heated, passionate kiss but he doesn't get there right away. You deepen it yourself, licking his bottom lip before sinking your teeth into it. He shudders and leans into you, his hands hovering tentatively over your waist.

He's nervous and unsure but he can't deny he enjoys the way you feel on him. He likes the way you smell and how gentle your eyes are on him - he's not used to that.

"Touch me." You plead, pulling him impossibly closer as you writhe into him. He's still so rigid and stiff in your hold.

"We're outside." He mutters, looking at you with that beautiful, plain face of his.

You huff, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt before spinning around to swing the door open. You drag him inside with you, pushing him against the door once it's closed. You practically pounce on him. He's still hesitant. You're throwing yourself at him and he just - stands there, letting it happen.

It pisses you off.

You let out an exasperated sigh, slamming your hands into his chest with a frustrated grunt. "What the hell is your problem, Pope?" You raise your voice, finally feeling worked up enough to say something.

"I-I don't have a problem." He stutters, grabbing your wrists to hold them between you two. "Please, don't do that again." He's quieter but you feel the request in his grip.

"Why don't you want to fuck me?" You ask, still animated but you change your tone when you see him flinch. You cover your mouth with your fingers for a second before trying a softer approach. "I-If sex isn't - you know - your thing, that's fine. Just tell me, please. So, I don't have to worry or wonder."

Pope steps closer to you now, a single hand reaching to encapsulate yours.

"It's not that I don't want to … I don't always know the best time for things." He's quiet, curt and honest.

"You've just been waiting for the right time?" You ask, incredulously. "It's not the right time when I change in front of you before we go swimming?"

"I assume you actually want to swim." He shrugs innocently, which is not a fitting expression for a man so gruff and criminal.

"Or the time I tried to go down on you at Daren's after hours?"

"It's dirty there." He cringes.

His answers make you giggle, your heart warming in your chest at how genuine he is. You rub your thumb over his palm affectionately. "I'm sorry I flipped out on you."

"It's okay." He nods firmly, squeezing your hand back.

"So, - Sex is your thing?" You ask sheepishly. "You don't just think I'm unattractive or something?"

Pope nods down to his pants where his length strains against the dark denim. "You are very attractive." He assures you.

You stifle a giggle at his gesture, taking both of his hands in yours and brushing your nose against his. "Does now feel like a good time?" You whisper, looking down to his lips with want. Pope nods his head 'yes' slowly, looking at your lips too.

You nod back as if to make sure, watching his puppy dog eyes as well as his lips. He nods again as your faces inch closer, noses brushing, eye lashes fluttering and hearts pounding. Both of you are still a tad stiff as your lips meet, it's slow to start but you feel each other out. You guide his hands to your sides before caressing his face to keep him close.

You hum happily as your lips meld together and you find a good rhythm. His hand don't move from their tight grip on your sides as you slowly step back. You make it all the way to the couch, trying to pull him on top of you but he doesn't go. Instead, you both sit down facing each other, your lips staying connected the whole time.

You try not to rush it but if you let Pope lead you worry you'll never get there. You dance your fingers down his neck, inside the tight collar of his shirt. You tempt him with your tongue again and this time he lets you in. You take this as your sign to go further, working open the buttons on his shirt.

A little moan escapes you when his tongue returns the gesture, warmth flooding your belly. He gets more stern with his kiss, encouraging you to shove his shirt off his shoulders so he's bare for you. Your hands drag down his chest, his large pecks filling your grasp happily.

His fingers slowly slide down your sides and then back up, the fabric bunching up as his palms engulf your skin. The both of you let out a whiny sound because of the impact, your body sliding closer to chase more. He's slow and methodical, kissing you deeply, enough to make you warm and needy.

You run your hand down his muscular belly, passing his belt to take a hold of the large bulge in his pants. Pope gasps and jolts, pressing his forehead to yours as he slides you closer with his hands on you.

"Can I?" He asks, distracting you from where your hand is to pull your blouse over your head and off.

"You don't have to ask, Andy." You whisper, lifting your arms up for him. He blushes, looking away from your face as he folds and sets your blouse aside. You bite your lip as you watch him, feeling so endeared.

When he's finished you lean back in for his mouth, guiding his hands to touch your breasts as you fumble with his belt and zipper. Pope is as stiff as ever, watching your nimble hands with tight lips and flushed cheeks. You pull his belt out of the loops, his jeans open wide as you start to tug them off his hips.

"I got it - Take your bra off." Pope interjects curtly, his chest heaving while he stands. You nod enthusiastically, smiling with your teeth because you love that he's speaking up. You reach around and unclasp your bra, throwing it at his head once its off.

You bite your lip and cover your chest, watching Pope pull your bra off his face, a tiny smirk gracing his face, you make sure to memorize it. He stands in just his boxers before you, the shadow on his leg looking much more intimidating with one less layer over it. You gulp.

Pope walks towards you, grabbing your arms to uncover you and make you stand with him. He leans in to kiss you, his need seeping into your mouth as you raise up on your toes to get closer. You shuffle your arms out of his hold, returning the kiss with all you have as you force his palms over your bare breasts.

Your heart pounds with excitement from his body heat, his touch. He slowly palms your breasts, groaning into your mouth at the feeling. Your entire body feels red hot, goosebumps all over your skin as he drags his rough hands over your taught nipples.

"Please." You whisper, practically panting after pulling back from the kiss to beg.

"What, doll?" Pope asks earnestly, his eyes heavy on your face, searching for your words before you even say them.

"Take me, Andy. Make me yours." You're quiet and sultry, pressing your tits into his hands and ghosting your lips over his.

"A-Are you sure?" He hesitates, unsure of his self control once he starts with you.

You've become incredibly impatient and needy, solidified by the whine that leaves your mouth. "Andreeewww." You coo, snatching his wrist and pushing his hand under your skirt, the fabric rides up over his arm as you press his flat fingers to your bare cunt.

He gasps on contact, your hot, slick cunt taking is breath away. He lays his forehead to yours, his eyes pinched shut as you hold his hand to you. "Fuck!" He hisses, his voice so rough, not like anything you've heard from him before. "Where are your panties?" Pope grunts out, pressing his fingers harder against you, enough that you feel you can let go of his hand and touch his face.

"I didn't wear any - been waiting for you to take me all night long, Andy." You speak to him softly, your voice raspy from the deep breaths you keep having to take. You caress Pope's cheeks, rubbing your nose back and forth on his as you try to resist the urge to buck your hips. He whines again, the sound giving you full body chills and this time you can't stop the way your hips rut towards him. The movement spreads your arousal over his fingers and he snaps from the sweet sensation.

He slams his mouth to yours, a free hand clamping down on your neck to make sure you can't pull away from his kiss. In the same moment he slides his middle finger into your eager, wet entrance. You're so slick he sinks all the way to his last knuckle in one movement. You cry out into his mouth, trying to pull back to breathe but Pope forces his mouth back on yours, swallowing every sound.

His finger dances around inside you, like he's exploring. He touches you at every depth and angle he can find, paying attention to how you react and making note of what's good and what's great. You cling to him for dear life, your hips feeling weak from the pressure built up there.

"Good? It's good?" He pants, pulling back just enough to see your eyes as he starts fucking a second finger inside you. All the sudden his hunger and want are on the outside of him, instead of hidden somewhere you couldn't reach. He's feral looking, like he's on the brink of snapping again and lord knows what'll happen then.

"Yeah, yeah." You nod frantically, pawing at his hips for balance.

"Yeah?" He asks, smiling at you like he's proud of himself. You love it. So, you nod again with enthusiasm, leaning in for more kisses as you turn him and shove him back onto the couch.

You're in his lap in an instant, guiding his hand back under your skirt to resume his work. As you straddle his lap you comb your fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead and cheeks while riding his fingers. His free hand gropes your ass and forces you to bounce at a quick, messy pace on him.

You grab a small handful of hair from the back of Pope's head, guiding his face down to your free hanging breasts. At first he just lays his face against one, rubbing his mouth and nose across you as he transitions to the other side. He practically mauls your tits while forcing you down on his fingers and you've never been wetter, never been more turned on.

Eventually, you coax Pope into latching his mouth around one of your nipples. He sucks gently, making you arch deeper into his touch. He laps you up with a wet tongue, you can see his spit glistening in the dim light. You start to lose your sanity when he blow on your sensitive bud, the sharp cooling sensation making you jump in his hold.

"A-Andrew, touch my clit too - you'll make me come." You tell him, sounding desperate but his eyes light up. He uses his free hand to rip your skirt up over your head, you help him to speed it up. Once you're fully naked he guides your other tit to his mouth as he starts circling your bundle of nerves.

It takes a couple of swirls for him to find the spot but once he does he touches you expertly. It took all of five minutes for him to discover your sweet spots, it's like he had a cheat sheet somewhere in his brain for your body.

"Please, come for me, doll. I wanna watch so bad." Pope whispers, begging you like it's a secret. All of the stimulation from him has your climax building deep in your core. Your hips buck into Pope's fingers and it doesn't faze him at all, he continues to pound into you unwavering. He kisses you so deeply you realize instantly that it's never been like that before. "Are you close?" He asks when you tense up in his hold.

"H-Harder, Andy, please." You beg, guiding his mouth back to one of your tits. He listens to your request, keeping a steady pattern on your clit while pounding his fingers into you with more force. His big doe eyes stare at your face so intently, waiting for you to crest.

You can barely get the words out when you try to tell him you're coming, he catches on regardless. Pope kisses you through it, not changing a thing about his movements until you're squirming and shoving his hands away. He doesn't give in at first, making you squeal before you truly get free.

He grabs you by the waist, spinning your bodies until you're laying on your back, long ways on the couch and he's hovering between your legs. He slowly grinds himself against you, hesitating to go further.

"Your boxers are still on." You whisper, tugging at the elastic.

"I know." Pope grunts, grinding himself harder when you wrap your legs around him. "Do you have a condom?"

"Don't need one." You rush out, yanking hard on his boxers to expose him. Immediately you wrap a firm hand around him, pumping slow but tight. Pope huffs out a few heavy breaths, his elbows and knees quivering from your touch.

"Y-You sure?" He stutters.

"Pope, I swear if you don't just fuck me - I'm gonna go crazy." You're stern but you might as well be begging. You just want to have sex with your boyfriend after a romantic date, is that so crazy?

He stares at your face for a few seconds, you can see the hunger returning to his exterior. In a singular moment - he snaps. He grabs your knees and pushes them up to get a better angle, spitting directly on your pussy before swirling his tip around in it to tease you.

The warm sensation make you whimper, your hands in fists by your head as your arch for him. Curse words fall from your lips, mixing with other whiny sounds. They turn loud and guttural when he slams into you, taking up a quick, harsh pace as soon as he feels you.

Pope can't help himself, you suck him in so tight - it makes him lose control. He leans down, pressing your shins to his chest, folding you up to reach your lips while still pounding into you. The angle is painful at first, not used to anyone reaching that deep inside of you. But you adjust quickly, soaking up the way his mouth feels on yours.

"Jesus christ, doll. Your cunt is- it's… fuck, perfect." Pope grunts out, his voice gravelly and rough as he slams himself into you over and over. He's knocked the wind out of you with the force, you gasp for air, looking up at his with glossy eyes and parted lips. "Look at you, begged for my cock just to go dumb as soon as you get it." He teases, nudging your nose and giving your thighs a good squeeze.

You gulp, trying to wet your throat and tongue. "M'fine!" You gasp out, digging your nails into his biceps for leverage. You're determined to stay aware and keep your eyes open, focused on his.

Pope chuckles a little, kissing your red hot cheeks before straightening his spine. He looks down at you with a menacing gaze, fingers burning into the skin of your thighs as he uses his leverage to rock your body into him.

"So, so pretty like this." He mumbles, "Gonna have you like this every night," His voice gives you chills, you blush all the way down your chest, smilling up at him as your brain slowly starts to fog over. You fight it off, blinking and biting your lip until it stings.

"You coulda had me like this all along, Andy - didn't have to wait so long." You whine, reaching up to caress his chest and stomach, your words being forced out of you because of his pace. He hasn't let up and ounce and you're starting to wander if you can keep taking it.

He growls, forcing your knees down and pulling out of you in a fast motion. His large hands clamp down on your sides, flipping you over onto your stomach before settling his knees on either side of yours.

You let out a few whimpery sounds as he man handles you, forcing a deep arch in your lower spine before sinking back into you. He's even deeper than before and it makes you scream. You hear Pope chuckle again, clearly satisfied with himself. His chest comes down over your back, his arm slipping under your chin until he's got you in a headlock.

"You were worth the wait, doll." He grunts, kissing your temple at the same time he tightens his bicep around your throat. "Now be quiet and take me, gonna make you mine, huh?" He taunts and you nod with enthusiasm, whispering 'yes' a few times over. "Yeah? Want me to fill you up?"

"Yes, yes, yes Andy, please,"

"The first time you ever get my cock and you already want it?" He continues his taunting, his voice makes you mind spin as he destroys your pussy. You can barely get air in your lung with his taught muscle pressed to your neck, you start to feel a little tingly.

"Please," You hiss, gasping for air.

Pope feels your pussy get slicker the more you struggle to breathe and he can't help that it riles him up. He tightens his arm more, pressing his cheek to the side of your head as he continues his violent, messy thrusts.

"Make me feel so special, doll. I'll give you what you want - gonna fuck this little cunt 'til I come, yeah? - You'll get all of me." He's definitely feral now, his voice raspy and deeper than you've ever heard it.

You're tingly all over, your brain fuzzy as you take what you boyfriend gives you. It's blissful, his painful thrusts throb through your limps until it feels like pleasure. You're so wet you feel the mess on your ass and thighs.

Pope doesn't mind, in fact it spurs him on.

"Cross your goddamn legs." He demands, growling in your ear. He lets up his hold around your neck enough for you to hear him and listen. You slide one of your knees under the other, feeling yourself tighten around him. The sound he makes gives you chills, you shiver as it reverberates through your skin. "That's it - fuck!" Pope grunts.

It only takes a few more thrusts before he's filling you full, he moans through it, close to your ear, nibbling at your sensitive skin. He groans and says sweet things but you can't hear him, you're still so fuzzy from all the brutal sensations you've just received.

Pope collapses on top of you, elbows by your temples as you let your head sink back into the pillows. He doesn't pull out right away, letting his cock get flaccid and slip out on it own as he cages you beneath his spent body.

You don't mind, his warmth and weight soothe you as you come back down to earth. You kiss the skin of his arms you can reach, his skin burning hot against you. You both struggle to catch your breath but he cocoons you underneath him until you do.

"Baby doll, - fuck, I-" He huffs, his voice barely there. He slides off your back and to the side, encouraging you to turn so you two are facing each other. His hefty arm drapes over you, keeping you cuddled close to his chest as he looks down at you. "Are you okay?" He asks, his deep eyes searching yours.

You nod your head vigorously, "M'never going two months without you again." You sigh, kissing his chin as you watch him smirk. It's small and subtle but adorable, you lean up to peck his lips. "Stay the night please, Pope." You mutter, tracing your fingers over his back to see him shiver when you hit his spine just right.

"I'm not going anywhere, doll." He promises, cuddling you close.

You're both quiet for a few moments, hugging each other tight. You nuzzle close and he welcomes you, his body still stiff while somehow drawing you in. Maybe it's because you're still hazy, or because you're cock-drunk but you can't help the way your heart pounds, even after catching your breath.

"Andy, I- I think,"

"What doll?" He softly encourages.

"I think I love you." You whisper, burying your face into his warm, bare chest. You nuzzle even closer when you realize how comfy his pecks are.

"You're just saying that because you're foggy from the sex." Pope chuckles, shaking his head above yours. It seems as if he thinks you're joking and you guess you can't blame him. He's not used this sort of thing - that's what makes it all so special.

"I love you too." He whispers a few moments later, kissing the top of your head, huffing a little when your messy hair tickles his nose.

Your mind comes back to you all the way and you realize just how lucky you are. Your boyfriend may not be the perfect guy but he's perfect for you. You never want to leave his arms - you never want to get off his cock either.

You have a feeling after tonight though, you won't have to worry about that anymore.

She had been a friend of Deran’s for a while now. It started off as only smoking buddies. Then they hooked up once- it was good, but it didn’t last. Good, but just… off. She found out later, Deran had figured out he was gay. She kinda thought that from the start, but she never voiced that thought. From then, they stayed good friends. They just… got each other. She was a few years younger, but it didn’t bother them.

She had been a semi-regular face around the Cody compound for a few months now. She knew of the “jobs” they did, after having accidentally walked in on the planning of one- tho she never got involved in that. She did help out where she could: tutoring J, making dinner for the guys instead of Smurf  (she was terrified of Smurf, and did what she could to stay on the woman’s good side). And then there were the parties. Mostly organized by Craig, who she lovingly called her Snowflake. Not because of his political views, she honestly didn’t even know those. But… you get it. 

The family had been acting weird that day. But she couldn’t wrench the answer of why from any of them. She even offered to let Craig rail a line off her tits. Which was extremely tempting for him, he still wouldn’t confess. She almost felt offended, honestly, but she eventually gave up, and stopped pressing. 

Fast forward to the party. It was late. Or maybe… early? She didn’t know. She was feeling good by then. Not shitfaced, but definitely not sober either. She stumbled her way into the kitchen, desperate for a breath of people-free air, and a glass of water. She accidentally bumped into someone, who she deemed as vaguely familiar. She didn’t think much of it, she knew a lot of people. 

“Oh- shit. Sorry man.” She muttered, reaching into the correct cabinet that held the glasses on the first try. He definitely noticed that, tho he didn’t say anything yet. 

“You… want some water while I'm at it?” She softly asked him, holding up a second cup. Now that she finally got a good look at him… ‘Holy mother of fuck-’ she thought to herself. ‘Who are you and how can I get to know you??’ Thankfully, those stayed inside thoughts and not outside words. 

“No.” He responded flatly, not in a way of being an asshole- she was just… new. He didn’t like new things. And she was drunk. Drunk meant dirty. He did not like dirty things either. 

“Oh-” she paused, unsure as to how to react. “Okay…” she trailed off, putting the second cup back. Poor girl… the alcohol had severely lessened her filter. And survival instincts. And the fact that if she was sober- she would've taken the hint and left him alone. Drunk her? Absolutely not. The man looked like a snack. No. He was more than that. He looked like the whole fucking meal. She absolutely had to know him. “Well… who are you? I haven’t seen you around here before. Tho… you do look familiar. I'm one of Deran’s friends. And Craig honestly. Kinda just… friend of the family, honestly. So… you are…?”

Now he did not like that at all. She was what- this little… kid? Obviously, he knew she wasn't a child. She was drinking legally- but he was still a considerable amount older. Plus-?? His family going and inviting this… outsider in while he was locked up? Pissed him off to no end. He realized now, that he had been staring at her this whole time since she asked him who he was. He didn’t care much, he was not very social. But he knew there were social rules and cues to follow. Tho once he got out of his head and actually looked at her, he realized she was staring right back at him. Not in the way he was staring at her tho- absolutely not. She was staring at him in a more of… This man looks like the last drop of water in a dessert. But, she somehow made it look not creepy. More… admiring. 

“Pope.” He finally said. “My name is Pope.” He spoke stiffly, like he was trying to figure out the words as he said them. 

“Pope…” She murmured, mulling them over on her tongue as she thought about it. “Wait. Hold on. Pope… as in… Pope Cody, eldest of the Cody boys, the one who was in Folsom? As in… that Pope?” She was grinning like she just won the lottery.

He froze, ‘Why the fuck does she know this about me??’ he thought to himself. “Yes.” He responded plainly. The man had a good poker face- she would give him that. 

“You're shitting me…” she muttered, mostly to herself. “So… your brothers failed to mention how much of a fucking smokeshow you are.” She huffed. She really hadn’t been told much about him honestly, other than what exactly she had told him. 

“A… smokeshow.” He muttered. He was used to women attempting to hit on him. However, one glare and they quickly scampered away. He was trying his fucking hardest with this woman- tho his glare only seemed to… interest her more. ‘Oh what in the fucking hell.’ he thought. ‘Why is this woman still talking to me?’ 

“So… Pope. You got a girlfriend?” 

‘You're shitting me.’ he thought, ‘Fine. Maybe if I humor her, she’ll leave me alone.’ “No.” He responded in the same monotone a few moments later. 

“Hmm… boyfriend then? I don’t judge.”

He stared at her, trying to figure out if she really meant that. “No.” He spoke again.

“So… you're just… all alone… lonely man… handsome lonely man…” She sighed, a faux pout all across her face. “Whatever shall we do about that?? That’s just… un-freaking-acceptable.” 

“Nothing. We are going to do nothing about it.” 

She could almost hear the eye-roll in his voice. “Hmm… fine then. Can I at least give you my number? I promise I'll keep the flirting to a minimum. Mostly. Maybe.” She could see him thinking about it. He was different. Whatever was going on in that pretty head of his, she wanted to understand it. She didn’t know why, but she found the… socially awkward weirdness to be… endearing and cute. When she didn’t get an answer, she switched to a different tactic. “Here… I'll give you my number, and you can text me when you want. Okay?” She held up a sharpie she found on the counter.

He looked from her, to the sharpie, then back to her. He blinked, only once. Then wordlessly held out his arm to her. She nearly jumped in delight that he would let her.

She pressed herself against him, taking his forearm in her hands to write her number on him, leaving it with her name and a heart. “There… lookit that. You, text me whenever. Kay? I’m a multi-purposeful friend. And… I do wanna get to know you more. You’re a part of the family that took me in, ya know. And you're like… majorly cute. In a… kinda creepy way. But that’s a good thing-! Okay… so- Im gonna go back out there. There’s a joint calling my name, I can feel it. And just… find me if you need anything. Kay? I can be a lot softer than your brothers, when need be. Or meaner. I told you, multipurposeful!” 

He nodded softly, absorbing her words. She smelled like weed, and the lingering scent of Tequila. He also noticed she talked way too fast. He didn’t say much, just a soft: “Okay… careful.” As she slipped back outside. 

He stared at the ink after she left. Her penmanship, or rather lack thereof due to the alcohol. The way she wrote her 7’s. With the dip down at the top, and the dash through it. The way the heart she drew wasn’t extravagant, just small. Not even, but it was personal, and intentional. 

He was now left with a major personal dilemma. Why was this girl getting under my skin so easily? Why do I not hate it? Why did she have such an obvious interest in me? And most importantly, ‘Why wasn’t she scared of me…?’

She walked back out to the lounge chairs by the pool, stealing the joint from Deran. “Dude. Dipshit. Why did you never tell me that Pope was so hot??” She groaned as she flopped back. “Its like… totally unfair. But, he did let me give him my number tho. He was weird. Liked to stare. But… it was like… cute weird. I’d totally let him stare at me all day. Those puppy brown eyes?? My gods. I think I'd do anything just to see them light up. He’s like… either going to be the love of my life, or the man I tell my children about when we’re crying on the floor over their first breakup.” 

What she didn’t know was that Pope had heard everything she had said, thanks to his insomnia induced walking around. He softly sighed and took his phone out and texted her. 

“This is Pope.” He texted her. 

“This is the girl you met in the kitchen.” She texted back. Ugh she just wanted to spoil him. What was that about… the nature to nurture? Or something like that. He was so formal over text, she thought that was cute. 

“I am aware.” She could practically feel the glare through the phone. 

“I know. Just figured… you introduced yourself over text. Why can’t I” She waited a few moments, after not getting a response, she texted again. “And… maybe if you don’t wanna talk. You can come sit out here with me. It's only Deran and I on the pool loungers outside. It’s pretty well died down.” 

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Tho he couldn’t deny, the thought of it gently awakened something he thought was long gone within him.

“Don’t wanna push it. Just think about it, yeah?” She sent after she didn’t get a response. 

He read it, and her text stayed on open for almost twenty minutes. 

But later, he did come sit with her. Silently, he approached the loungers. She noticed him and scooted over, patting the other side of her chair. He wordlessly sat down, nursing the beer in his hand. She didn’t push any physical contact. She knew that for now, just them pressed together on the same lounge was enough. 

“You said I can text you anytime.” He spoke quietly. 

“Yeah… I did.” 

“Whenever?”

“Yeah…? Whenever.”

“Even if it’s three in the morning…?”

bf!pope cody who... is a biter. he love the sensation and the way you react. he bites anything and everything. its gotten to the point where you've banned certain positions because he cant stop biting you. he doesn't even do it on purpose!! he just needed somewhere to rest his head... not his fault your shoulders were perfect for sinking his teeth into.

"pope!" you squeal, pushing him back lightly. his eyes rove over you, his blank expression unmoving on his face. "i thought we agreed no more biting."

he grumbles lowly before tucking his face back into the crook of your neck where he had it before you'd so rudely evicted him. "yeah. 'm sorry baby," he mumbles softly. his teeth graze against your skin as he continues, "cant help it." you huffed softly as you felt his teeth connect back with your skin.

"pope. quit it." he whines softly at the demand. cant let him get away with everything but you'd be lying to say you didnt like it

pope was protective when it came to you.

how could he not be? there were so many creepy people in the world. people who wouldn’t think twice about hurting you. it was his job to make sure that you were safe, that you were looked after.

that’s why he followed you almost everywhere.

to the grocery store? sure, pope is right behind you carrying the basket.

to the park? he’ll bring his skateboard, maybe teach you a few tricks.

to the beach? pope already has the sunscreen, ready to reapply it so you don’t burn in the sun.

there really was no limit to where he’d follow you to.

sometimes he’d make himself known

other times he didn’t

that’s why it didn’t alarm you when he followed you to deran’s bar. it was his brother’s establishments anyway, that gave him one extra reason to be there.

you’d told him that he should go socialize, take a break from being your sworn protector. pope immediately contested it. he didn’t like anyone here but you, why should he bother? after a bit of back and forth he reluctantly left your side. he’d “try” and mingle with the other patrons.

really he just sat down and watched whatever game was on tv. nursing a beer and not talking to anyone.

at least you’d tried.

that’s when you noticed that you were the one struggling to interact with others as well.

you hadn’t expected how people seemingly avoided you. there was the off chance that someone waved hello or gave you a smile, but they never stayed long enough to chat.

until your friend, sarah, spotted you from a few feet away.

she’d embraced you tightly, both of you exchanging pleasantries. finally, someone you could talk to.

about 20 minutes into the conversation was when you’d admitted your quarrel with tonight.

“i don’t know what’s up with people today, but it seems like no one wants to be near me.” you weakly chuckled, stirring your half empty glass.

“yeah, well i don’t blame them.” sarah replied. your head perked up, ready to take offense.

“what? what’s that supposed to mean?”

she looked around as if you’d said something completely asinine.

“are you serious? with pope cody staring you down like that? he’s practically issued a public service announcement that he’ll attack anyone who comes close.” she let out a breathy laugh, downing what was left of her long island iced tea.

you just sat there, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows furrowed. she had to be kidding.

sarah casted her gaze behind you, a chill running up her spine.

Pope stared intently at her. his usual hardened gaze strong enough to kill. the beer in his hand gone warm under his grip.

“i mean, god, he looks like he’s gonna kill me just ‘cause im talking with you.”

“what?” you immediately whipped your head around, sending a glare pope’s way.

his gaze softened when he caught your eyes. though, it quickly dissipated into a look of guilt. similar to that of a dog’s.

“for fuck’s sake- would you give me a second?” before sarah could agree you were already getting up out of your seat.

you marched towards pope, your shoes clacking against the cement flooring. he straightened up, putting his beer off to the side. he was in trouble now.

“what’s your deal?” you spouted, crossing your arms in front of you.

“my deal?” he muttered.

“come on, pope, you know what i mean.”

pope only shrugged, mumbling that he didn’t know what you were talking about. he let his eyes drift away from yours. as if that would make him look any less conspicuous.

you rubbed your brow, a faint laugh leaving your throat.

“andrew, you can’t just death glare anyone who comes up to me. this was supposed to be a fun night for the both of us.”

“s’only making sure you were okay.” he said quietly, his mouth forming an annoyingly adorable pout as he looked up at you.

damn him and his stupid face, his stupid eyes, his stupid curls-

“i understand that, but i’m not gonna suddenly die from being more than 6 feet away from you.” you huffed.

“I know that.” pope replied, feeling more defensive of his position.

“do you?”

pope leaned back in his seat, growing more fidgety.

“do you want me to leave you alone?” he asked softly.

“what- no! andrew, absolutely not.” your voice softened. you loved having pope around, even if you knew his reputation preceded him. you just wish he didn’t make it so easy to live up to those expectations.

you looked around, a few eyes watching your interaction with pope. you sighed. leaning down to cup his shoulders with your hands.

“I just wish you wouldn’t death stare anyone who tries to come near me.”

pope’s eyes shifted between your own. he shrugged his shoulders.

“that’s just how i look.”

you couldn’t stop a small smile from breaking across your face.

“well could you try not to? for my sake?”

a moment passed before pope nodded. he hesitantly reached up, grasping your hand.

you sighed, dragging him up to his feet. you held his hand tighter, leading him to the exit.

“let’s just go home, yeah?”

pope leaned into your touch, rubbing his thumb across the top of your knuckles.

“hey! you didn’t pay for your drinks!” deran shouted from behind the counter.

“I’ll pay for it.” pope shouted back, holding the door open for you. his gaze stuck on your pretty face.

at the end of the day, you loved pope’s unconventional forms of affection.

Jack tilts his head to meet your gaze and smiles softly. His eyes drift over your face like he’s memorizing every inch. He’s close enough that he could count each individual lash if he wanted to. 

When he lifts his hands to cup your face between his palms, you melt into his touch. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. 

Your skin heats under his hands, blood rushing to your face. The timid smile on your face tugs at Jack’s heartstrings.

“So beautiful,” he repeats tenderly. 

He means it. 

You misinterpret it. 

When you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him again, there’s more heat to it—the kind that leads to places you haven’t been to with him yet.  He keeps you steady, your face still held by him.  His lips fit against yours like two puzzle pieces.

The weight of him leads you towards the couch naturally. He doesn’t guide or force but simply leans in until you sink onto the cushions, him braced above you. 

Your hand drifts down from his chest to his stomach. Through his shirt, you still feel the way his muscles flex under your touch.  He breaks the kiss to look at you, an almost dopey curve to his mouth. 

“You’re ticklin’ me,” he mumbles. 

“That’s on purpose,” you reply. 

He grins, then catches your hands in his own.  “Is that so?” he whispers. “Anything else you want to confess?”

You let a few seconds pass, just for dramatic effect, before you nod.  “Yeah,” you mumble, “I’m also trying to take your shirt off right now.”

Jack chuckles softly.  “You don’t say,” he teases. “Any reason for that?”

You roll your eyes fondly.  “Take a guess.”

A gentle laugh spills from him, originating deep from his chest. You feel the vibration travel through him until it reaches your hand, too. 

“I think I can help out with that.”

He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, then over his head. Your eyes are glued to every inch of sun-kissed skin that’s slowly exposed. For a moment, you hesitate before you reach out to rest your hand on his chest, feeling the heat radiating from him. 

When you’ve had your fill of touching him—though you’re not sure you’ll ever get enough of him—you take off your own shirt. You had planned in advance and worn a black lace bralette, but you hadn’t told Jack, so you could trick him into thinking that you’re always this put together.  The matching panties waited for him under the skirt, which you were eager for him to pull off of you. 

Jack can’t look away—and doesn’t want to. You’re surprised that for once, it doesn’t feel like you’re being ogled. 

No, Jack admires. 

His fingers drift over your breasts up to your neck, then rest on your face. 

“Like I said,” he whispers. “Beautiful.”

Instead of answering, you lean in to kiss him again. As your lips press against his, you reach for his belt buckle and open it. Jack hums into your mouth, a small roll of his hips encouraging you. 

He helps you take off his jeans. Jack talked to you about not wearing his prosthetic at home around you a few days ago, but right now, he still has it on. He seems a little nervous as his pants fall away, and you get a full glance at it for the first time.

You don’t mind at all. 

The next barrier that falls is your skirt. Jack undoes the zipper at the side carefully, then slides the fabric down your legs. He makes a sound you can’t quite categorize when he sees the thin lace panties you picked out for tonight.

“Fuck,” he whispers, “How are you this perfect?”

Again, you forgo an answer with another kiss. 

Jack notices. He cups your face, then pulls away a little just to look at you. His brows knit together slightly. 

“Hey,” he mumbles.

You haven’t been together that long yet, but he knows you well enough to see that you don’t feel like talking about this right now.  Still, for a moment, he chews on his bottom lip in contemplation before he asks, “Wouldn’t you rather take this to the bedroom?”

You shrug softly. “I don’t mind the couch. Whatever you want.”

The divot between his brows deepens.  “But I’m asking you what you want,” he counters. “If… if we’re doing this right now, I want you to be comfortable.”

“I am comfortable,” you reply. 

He nods reluctantly.  “Alright,” he mumbles.

The next kiss feels a little different—not in a bad way, just more careful. Jack waits, lets you chase him instead of taking the lead. So you do. 

You reach behind you to unfasten the clasps of your bra. As the lace falls away, Jack watches with amazement. He almost manages to throw in another compliment for you, but you don’t give him the chance. You stand up from the couch and hook your fingers into your panties, then slowly slip them off.  Jack’s breath hitches. He leans into the back of the couch to watch as you step out of the fabric that fell to your ankles. This time, he truly stares. 

When you step closer, he pulls you in by your hips until you’re seated on his lap. Your bare cunt brushes over the bulge in his boxers, causing both of you to moan. 

You roll against him once, then twice, then kiss him again. The heat between the two of you is unbearable. You don’t understand why he hasn’t taken off his underpants yet and wonder if he maybe just needs a little bit more encouragement, so you grind down against him again. 

Jack hisses at the contact, his fingers tightening on your sides. 

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Then let me help you,” you chuckle and reach for the waistband of his boxers. He lifts his hips to help you slip them off—and you swallow hard when you see what you’re working with. The grey happy trail you’ve been eyeing since his shirt came off leads down to his thick cock. The size of the bulge makes more sense now. He’s veiny and flushed a dark red, almost a little purple at the tip. 

“Jesus,” you whisper.

Jack chuckles, maybe even a little self-consciously so. 

“Yeah, it’s um… it’s been a while for me,” he admits. 

Your mouth falls open—you hadn’t expected that. A man with his looks, a doctor at that, too?

“Really?” you ask. “I mean… that’s okay. I don’t mind. Just… tell me what you like.”

He shrugs softly. 

“I like you.” 

His answer is so sappy that it makes you grin. 

“Shut up. No, really, tell me what you like.”

Jack looks at you and pulls you closer again. 

“I’m serious,” he mumbles. “I just want you, however you want. Why? What kinda stuff do the kids like these days?”

Your face warms a little.

“I don’t know,” you mumble. A total lie.  “We can try some stuff, you know?”

“Like what?” he asks. “You want me to tie you up?”  He chuckles like the idea is absurd to him. 

“Would you want to tie me up?” you counter. 

Jack’s brows furrow again. 

“I don’t think that’s my thing,” he says quietly. 

You nod slowly.  “What about…”

Saying it out loud feels, for lack of a better word, cringe, so you take his hand and place it on the base of your throat. 

Jack doesn’t pull away immediately, but his fingers don’t wrap around your neck either. He looks up at you, his jaw set tightly.  Then he shakes his head and cups your face instead. 

“I don’t think so,” he says softly. “How about… we just take things slow and figure it out as we go?”

When you nod, Jack kisses you, and it tastes like relief.  He surprises you when he switches positions with you—you’d have thought he would want you to stay on top.  

Jack braces his weight on his forearms as he hovers above you, his face just inches away from you. Then he lowers his head, but his lips don’t meet yours—they trail down over your chest. His tongue swirls around your nipple, making you gasp as the sensation tingles through you. 

He cups your other breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh gently, then places a kiss on the valley between your breasts before he descends further.  To your ribs… then your navel… then your hipbone. 

Your breath stills completely when his fingers come to rest on your thighs. He doesn’t push them open yet.

“May I?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

He parts your legs gently, his eyes still focused on you until he lowers his head and—

Your world tilts a little. 

When his tongue drags through your drenched slit, and Jack moans out loud, you arch towards him. He holds your hips in place, fingers digging into the flesh—not hard enough to bruise, but enough to make you feel him. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, “You taste so fucking good, baby.”

He flattens his tongue against your clit, licking upwards until you see stars.

“Jack-“ you moan, trying… you don’t know what you’re trying to say. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, tugging slightly at the grey curls.  He sucks your clit into his mouth, causing you to cry out in pleasure. 

He laps at your cunt like a starved dog, and you can’t believe that “it’s been a while” for him, not when he’s eating you out like that.

“I—oh God,” you sigh dreamily.

Your legs quiver, your hips twitch—your entire body is shaking with pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby,” Jack murmurs, his words muffled. “Fuck—please, just let me make you feel good.”

The sounds of your arousal mixing with his saliva are unholy—a wet overflow of moisture between your thighs. Jack seems to be right where he wants to be. He moans into your flesh, his hips bucking and pressing into the couch below like he is trying to alleviate the ache, the buildup of his own need. 

When you come apart, he guides you through it, not stopping until your brain is overflowing with oxytocin and your thighs won’t stop shaking. 

Both of you are panting when he comes up.  He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smiles devilishly. 

“God… we’re so doing this again,” he declares softly. 

You’re at a loss for words. You haven’t come like that ever. All you can do is nod and reach for him. 

Jack plants his arms on either side of your head and kisses you deeply. You taste yourself on his tongue, the sweet, tangy flavor erupting in your mouth. 

His leaking cock presses against your tummy as his lips graze yours.

You reach between you and stroke him, making him groan into your mouth. 

“Jesus,” he mutters when he pulls away to look at you. “You—”

He thrusts into your hand instinctively, and you realize just how pent up he is. 

“Your turn,” you whisper. 

Jack tsks softly, half amused, half… something else.  He cups your face and kisses your jaw tenderly. 

“Believe me, that was my turn,” he says lowly. “But if you want to keep going, I’m sure as hell not saying no.”

--

The bliss afterwards is indescribable. But it’s also foreign.

You still sense every press of his hands on your body without feeling tender, every brush of his lips without a single mark on your skin, and every thrust of his hips without that residual feeling of having been used. 

Jack was nothing but gentle. 

And god, it was incredible. 

The sheets underneath you are crumpled and slightly damp with sweat and sex, but you don’t mind. Not when Jack’s arm is wrapped around you, your back pressing against his chest. He kisses the side of your neck where your pulse still flutters with excitement. 

“You were incredible,” he whispers.

It must be so obvious that his words fluster you because he smirks when you hide your face in the sheets. 

“Barely even did anything,” you mumble. 

Jack makes a sound you can’t quite discern. 

“Right,” he chuckles. “Except that thing where you got really tight when you were about to come again or—”

You whip around and press your hand over his mouth, your eyes wide and embarrassed.

“Jack,” you complain, half-serious, half-playful. 

He kisses your palm and smiles. 

“Hey, I’m just teasin’,” he retorts. “But I really meant it. It was really great for me.”

“Yeah, for me, too,” you mumble. 

You’re not used to any kind of pillow talk, so the words feel thick, like they don’t quite want to leave your mouth. 

Jack doesn’t seem to mind. He just pulls you closer against his chest and rests his chin on the top of your head. 

As the minutes pass, he tells you to go pee and promises more cuddles later on. 

In the bathroom, you look at yourself in the mirror. The haphazardly buttoned-up shirt you’re wearing belongs to Jack and falls to your mid-thigh. Your hair is a mess from how often he ran his hands through it. A few hickeys begin to gain color and paint your neck a soft purple.

You can’t help but smile. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” Jack calls out. “Your phone keeps vibrating. I think someone really wants to talk to you!”

“Yeah, just a sec,” you reply. 

When you return to his bedroom, Jack is sitting up, his brows drawn together slightly. Your phone is in his hand, the screen facing up. 

“Sorry,” he says as he passes it to you. “I didn’t mean to spy on you or anything, just wanted to bring it to you.”

You take your phone and glance at the messages—and feel your face heat up.

“Oh.” Your laugh comes out stiff as you quickly shut off your phone. “Sorry, um—they’re joking, of course. Like, uh…”

Jack looks at you quietly, watching as you fumble nervously with the edge of your phone case. There was a light flush to his cheeks now, too. 

“No, no, don’t worry, I shouldn’t have read it anyway, I just looked at it ‘cause it kept… vibrating,” he explains. 

The awkward silence that follows feels detrimental. 

You wonder if you should explain more, or if maybe stammering another apology would make it worse, but then Jack breaks the quiet first. 

“Not to sound my age, but… I assume cracking means… uh… hooking up?”

You press your lips together uncomfortably.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “Like, um… yes.”

He nods once. Then he tilts his head to catch your eyes. 

“It’s not the… nicest word, is it?” he asks. 

“It’s just, like, a TikTok thing,” you answer. 

“Hm,” is all he replies. 

Then he takes your hand and guides you back onto the mattress. You meet his gaze hesitantly. The lines around his eyes are a little deeper, just like the furrow between his brows. He doesn’t seem angry, just serious.

“I… I kind of would prefer it if you didn’t think of what we just did as… “cracking”. It’s not the word I would use,” he says slowly.

“It’s just a word,” you mutter. 

“Not to me,” he argues softly. “It’s… words have meanings. And cracking sounds like… like I’m doing something to you, not with you. I don’t mean to be… all old man and, like, police your language. But… I don’t want you to think of sex with me that way. Or… with anyone else for that matter, even though, ideally, I would like this to be a long-term thing.”

His hazel eyes don’t leave your face for even a single moment, and it’s almost overwhelming—if it weren’t for the sincerity in them. 

“I’m sorry—" you begin, but Jack shushes you.

“No, sweetheart, I don’t- I don’t want you to apologize. I just want you to be comfortable with me. I wanna make sure you… you feel respected by me,” he explains. 

“I do,” you reply quickly. “Really. Like, no one else has ever… been this kind to me.”

Jack’s face falls. 

“Oh, no, I mean, like… you’re a gentleman,” you elaborate.

He shakes his head softly. 

“No, baby, I’m… this is… this is the bare minimum. Christ.”

Jack’s hands find yours, and he leans in to kiss your forehead. Then he wraps his arms around you. 

“At the risk of sounding like your father, I think you kids need to put down your phones and go out in the real world.”

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."