Aemond “One Eye” Targaryen

⤷ how modern!aemond lost his eye

⤷ aemond loves his little family

⤷ (short) aemond gives the best hugs

⤷ jealous!aemond ft. jacaerys

Jacaerys Velaryon

⤷ betrothed!Y/N doesn’t find childish teasing amusing

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson

⤷ don’t wake me

⤷ NSFW Alphabet Character Study

⤷ give it a try

⤷ alpha!eddie scenting omega!reader

The Pitt

Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch

⤷ NSFW Alphabet Character Study

⤷ Sabbatical!Robby meets Younger!Reader who really wants that old man cookie

⤷ Robby’s kept in touch with the Younger!Reader he met on his sabbatical TBA

⤷ Pervy!Attending Robby x Student!Reader BLURB

Jack Abbot

⤷ NSFW Alphabet Character Study TBA

⤷ Jack Abbot’s pretty young neighbor runs to him with all her problems—he wouldn’t want it any other way

⤷ When the new doctor had joined the night crawlers at PTMC, Jack became fast friends with him. It absolutely wasn’t because the doctor hosted poker nights, where Jack could see his pretty young daughter

Animal Kingdom

Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody

⤷ NSFW Alphabet Character Study TBA

⤷ Younger!Reader discovers other ways Pope’s OCD manifests

⤷ Pope comes to you after his fight with Baz.

⤷ Andrew “my girl can wear whatever she wants because i can break your jaw” Cody loves taking his little Barbie doll shopping

⤷ Younger!Reader likes Andrew’s more ‘freaky’ behavior, much to the confusion of his nephew

FAQ

Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x J’sFriend!Reader

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

Masterlist

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

The party at the Cody residence was in full swing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pope stood behind the glass, like a sentinel.

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

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

The older man’s eyes were locked on you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

Dark eyes traced over you.

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

“J’s busy.” You replied. “Are you?”

“Should I be?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum f’me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my god!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The cracked open door.

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

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

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

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

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