#andrew cody x nonbinary reader

[enbyscript]

18+ MDNI sfw. pope cody x nonbinary!reader. should be read through a nonbinary/trans reader lens but no gendered language used. if yall saw this anywhere else no u didnt lmao

you have no idea what you’re doing with pope cody, emotionally or situationally. you kept running into each other at deran’s bar, suddenly one night after a long mid shift that left you with exhaustion seeping from your pores, then almost every time you were there afterwards.

sometimes he’d already be there, almost waiting. his eyes would find you the second you walked in and barely left you until closing. there were nights where pope and his brother’s were nowhere to be seen, and those were the times you started feeling the slightest bit disappointed.

god, he was awkward as fuck. that was obvious to anyone. what wasn’t, was the desire for kindness you could see past his usual stares. providing any kind of tenderness, a smile, a warm look, or just trying to include him in some of the conversations lit a spark in his eyes.

after months of existing in the same public space led to him giving you a ride home one late night after craig begging you to do shots with him on his birthday. in a normal world it wouldn’t mean much, but you weren’t in a normal world when around pope.

which led to now, one of random nights as of late when you weren’t at the bar that pope showed up at your doorstep. at first he would check in, you’d invite him in, and eventually he accepted. you both sat on the worn couch in your shared, but currently empty, apartment watching a nature documentary.

pope seemed almost comfortable, his legs spread across the well loved fabric, fingers thoughtlessly rubbing against his jeans. you settled back against the arm of the couch with a bloom of affection making its way through your chest, knee barely brushing against his thigh. your eyes would meet, both of you stealing glances periodically throughout the program.

“you got a starin’ problem?” you could have laughed, a smile pulling on your lips. he was teasing, a twitch on his chin and lack of any kind of real accusation in his voice.

“maybe. just thinking,” you adjust yourself on the couch and he watches you the whole time. pope always watched, you or others, but you didn’t really mind. he wasn’t doing it with distaste or disgust, you weren’t sure why yet, but you’d find out someday. if he kept orbiting around you like he was, you wouldn’t be opposed to learning all that made up pope cody.

he turns his upper body towards you slightly, auburn curls reflecting the light from the tv. sometimes you wonder if they were as soft as they looked. “thinking about what?” if the more he stared the more he could see into your mind, you’re sure he’d read you like a book.

“why you keep coming here,” it’s not a pointed question. you don’t need an answer, really.

“trying to figure out how you see me,” startled by the honesty, you quirk a brow in confusion. “i mean— why, you see me.”

tentatively, as if approaching a feral cat that cant decide whether you’re trustworthy or not, you reach your hand out slowly enough for him to see every centimeter your hand moves. he has enough time to stop you or pull away if he really wanted to. he inhaled through his nose, looking up from your hand to your eyes: permitting. your fingers settle on his forearm, warm and real.

“‘cause i want to,” the look on his face looks almost pained. “‘cause i think you see me, too.”

pope’s never commented on the cracks in your voice at times, never recoiled at the softness in your face or the way you carry yourself compared to others. he’s seen you in the bar. he’s seen you in your home without your armor against the world and the people in it that hate you just because you’re you.

you feel his hand hesitate by your knee, desperately wanting to cross the line that keeps himself separated; you and everything else. the decision is warm against your skin, the skin of his palm rough but tentative on your knee. your head tilts forward at the sensation.

“can i touch you?” the question sounds loaded in hindsight. pope’s eyes widen and you sit in the silence that follows your voice. you see your words processing in his eyes, his face.

it could be moments or minutes, but eventually he nods his answer.

you stay the same pace as before, acutely aware of the trust being given. fingertips coming in to contact with pope’s cheek, gentle against fresh growth of facial hair. your eyes followed the path your hand took; over the crows feet by his eyes, the sunkissed freckles that dotted his face. the creases of his forehead smoothed at your light touch, pope’s eyes flickering closed. his head leaned into your warmth, savoring the rare gift of a soft touch.

now that you’ve been allowed this close, you don’t know how you’re ever going to be able to handle the inevitable distance. your thumb grazed his cheek delicately over a minute scar you wouldn’t be able to see unless this close. pope’s own hand rose up to hover over your own, hesitating before dwarfing yours.

blinking in surprise, your hand was now fully cupping his cheek, pope’s hand putting more pressure as he nuzzled into the feeling. now it all made sense, this was the final piece to what made up pope cody. this was the hidden part, the one his brother’s didn’t know, the one the real world didn’t get to see. soft, pliable to a touch that wasn’t trying to take from him all the time.

“i really wanna kiss you. but i won’t, unless you want me to,” you only just felt the urge before the words came tumbling from your lips. nervous energy crackled along your skin, your eyes studying pope’s face as he digested your words. you weren’t afraid of reacting badly, of shifting into the kind of man you knew he wasn’t, opposite to the one that made sure you got home okay or told you to go to bed when you dozed off on the couch.

pope’s eyes bore into yours, flitting back and forth. searching, trying to decipher any underlying meaning to all of this. he couldn’t help being suspicious, not from any fault of your own, but from years of manipulation and disappointment from those closest. but he wanted whatever you were willing to give him. a couple beers at deran’s bar, documentaries on your sofa, near one sided conversations just so he could hear you talk. if you were offering more, how could he deny you?

he nodded, firmly. no hesitation, no doubt behind the decision. you nodded back and eased your head closer until your lips met. it only lasted a second, but it took the breath out of both of you as if more.

[enbyscript]

18+ MDNI nsfw pope cody x trans/nonbinary!reader.

tw: vague mentions of abuse, penetration, reader takes hormones, pregnancy mentioned at the end. reader is NOT pregnant and DOES NOT get pregnant in this.

looking back to the beginning of your acquaintance with andrew cody, you never would have expected to end up here. in your bathroom, doing your skin care routine, with andrew cody sitting on the lidded toilet watching your every move. each new product you used caused him to lean in to look closely at the name, which you barely realized you maneuvered so he could read it better.

he was clingy, you became aware early on in your relationship. his need to exist in the same breath as you superseded all other necessities. if you were a normal person it would probably be concerning. hell, if it was anyone other than andrew you would be concerned. but because you are you and he is andrew cody, it wasn’t a problem. andrew sat patiently, for the most part, as you washed your face and applied your moisturizer.

once finished, you looked over to lock eyes with the auburn haired man. his cheeks overrun with beautiful freckles from,most likely, years of not using sunscreen and waterside sun rays. you were hit with a sudden urge and followed through without worry, rewetting your face cloth and gently bringing it to his face.

“what are you doin’,” he tried to sound put off. but he didn’t actually try to stop you, so that was a win.

“takin’ care of you,” you finished wiping off his face and proceeded to rub your cleanser into his skin.

andrew nearly moaned at the way your fingertips massaged into his face and neck. you continued your pampering and throughout the process told him exactly what you were doing, why you were doing it, and what you were using. a terrifying thought crossed pope’s mind as you rambled on: he could get used to this. coming home to you, whether here or a place for just the two of you, having dinner and watching tv. having a bedtime routine, letting you wash his face and apply moisturizer and then holding you in your shared bed.

he held back a whimper as you finished putting cream evenly across his face and neck. the process had finished much too quickly for either of your liking. this kind of intimacy, that has been fostered over countless late nights and early mornings as the center of each other’s universe, is almost impossible for either of you to believe. you, lost at how andrew could see through you and keep coming back after. andrew, at you having cut through the layers of flesh and insecurity, tearing down the walls hiding the scars of his abuse, just to find him. seeing him, and staying.

you kissed the phantom lines of his brow, usually crinkled in deep thought now only a sign of his wear, and returned to your room. he reminded you of a retired service dog, thoroughly trained for work and keenly alert with the way he trailed after you. though, you wished a quiet life after years of service would soon find him; whether that be with you or on the horizon. with every fiber of your being, you ached to see andrew have that.

the neatly made bed beckoned you forward to your respective sides. before andrew, there hadn’t been dedicated sections of the queen sized mattress. it used to be a decent size for one, now the perfect for the two of you to face each other on your sides under the comforter. the more easily you fell into this domestic routine, the more your fear it wouldn’t last turned into a nightmare.

andrew’s eyes were unfocused, staring inparticularly to the way your hands intertwined between your two bodies. his fingers playing with yours, tracing and rediscovering grooves and scars previously memorized. your mind reexamining similar moments over the past months, selfishly wanting more to be able to think back on. soft, unremarkable, but not unimportant or any less than earth shattering as the last.

moonlight creeped past the edges of your blackout curtains, highlighting the walls at long angles. you broke the silence, your voice hushed and only for his ears. you told him about how one of your roommates was thinking about moving out. it wasn’t a real plan, but a perfect opportunity to lay groundwork for something more.

“you could have their room. if you wanted,” the hope bubbling just under the surface of your words. “just think about it. you don’t have to decide now,” you wanted him to know that he would be the first to know and the first they would consider.

andrew was quiet, his brows inching closer together as he listened. his fingers stalled in their movement. you felt your blood pressure drop infinitesimally. fuck, you probably shouldn’t have assumed. he mentioned hating going back to his mother’s house, who he had to become when stepping over the threshold. who they thought he was. but to put this apartment and this little life above his blood and all he has ever really known?

“don’t want their fuckin’ room.”

you thought you might be sick.

andrew’s leg pushed between yours, pushing himself into the space that was preciously home to your hands now pressed between your chests.

“want our room,” the meaning finally dawning on you as andrew glanced between your lips and your eyes. his stare full of conviction and unable to be misinterpreted. your room. this room, your room. he, too, was extending an opportunity. farther than just him moving into the apartment itself. he was literally out on a limb to solidify your place in each other’s lives. offering all the moments you’ve tasted and wanted more of now with the promise of permanency. of every day and every night.

you didn’t trust your words to convey everything you felt. couldn’t trust your voice to carry the message across. your hand cupped his cheek, soft and lovingly wearing your moisturizer. your touch was steady and without doubt, your eyes stayed locked in on andrew’s, meeting his gaze on the same playing field of intensity, and nodded your affirmation.

andrew’s lips crashed to yours, his own hand mirroring on your cheek to pull himself as close as he could. noses smushed, the kiss was all encompassing and consuming. you wanted to breath him in and he wanted to crawl under your skin. you sucked on his upper lip and hitched your leg over his hips to draw him in as if attempting to absorb him.

andrew rolled himself over, pressing your back into the mattress with his weight and his hips making room between your legs as if he belonged there. you rolled your core over his in this new position. his lips parted from yours to get out a wrecked cry at the feeling, grinding his pelvis into yours sharply. andrew belonged anywhere you were and everywhere he wanted to be, you would ensure this for the rest of your life.

“andy, oh god,” pleasure overwhelmed you as andrew continued his motions, your hips keeping with the delicious pace. it drove you mad how lost he got in the before, the frenzied touching and sliding of tongues and skin, the increasing pressure before even taking your clothes off. you’d let him go for hours if he asked it of you, he knew. you’d never pushed him, but you learned the unspoken language of his body in frenzied lust. what he wanted, how to coax his needs and wants into the light.

“k-keep my shirt on. but i need you inside, please,” he quickly nodded, pulling the collar of your shirt down so he could suck a bruise into the collarbone hidden beneath. his other hand pulling at your boxers, groaning in irritation when he had to pry himself from your body to complete the task. your fingers toyed with his briefs waist band for a moment before yanking them down.

your tongues laved over one another, tasting mint toothpaste and something you could only describe as his warmth. andrew took himself in hand and continued the roll of his hips, now placing himself between your wet folds. a groan released into the room, from you or him or your combined effort who knows, but the way the head of his cock kept grinding over your swollen clit punched more from your throat and into his mouth. andrew swallowed them greedily, sucking on your bottom lip before returning his open mouth to yours.

“s-o good, baby,” his praise was quick, his own thoughts letting themselves loose as his mind focused on the increasing pleasure. “‘ngh, drive’n’ me crazy,” his hips slowed their pace so he could take himself in hand once more and prod his head at your entrance. his eyes met yours before moving any further, your own watering in anticipation before you nodded, your legs hooking either side of his hips to try to pull him further.

his cockhead barely caught your hole before his hips stuttered him back out, and on his second attempt slid fully home thanks to the slick response to his touch. you moaned into each others open mouths, breaths mixing and intertwining. andrew’s grip locked onto your waist as his thrusts synchronized with aiding your lower half to meet him.

andrew’s touch was always scalding and reverent on your skin. each touch held meaning and purpose with his entire self etched into every second. this was more, somehow, his harsh, clipped thrusts pushed everything he had into meeting you. this wasn’t a surrender or an attempt to take on either end. you gave just as much, your body meeting his everything with your everything.

you whined and let out a string of curses as your engorged clit kneaded against the patch of hair just above his base. andrew shortened his thrusts to repeat the motion with fervor, enticing more sounds, more curses, anything to fall from your lips at the pleasure.

andrew’s voice came out strangled, wrenching from his throat as he felt you clench down onto his cock. being buried in you was different than any other time he’s fucked. there was no way to compare the dissociation his mind and body felt with the act before you. he was safe to let go of any tension and anxiety that littered his mind, what he was expected to do and use the act as. this wasn’t manipulation or an assertion of power; some kind of play with ulterior motives.

melding together, you and andrew, was like putting all your cards on the table knowing you won’t be cheated.

the emotion bubbled in his chest, andrew continued burying himself into your heat, his momentum growing sloppy but fast. he sucked on the skin just underneath your jaw, a tang of salt at the tip of his tongue, laving over your skin like a starved man. god, he was starving and only got reprieve from the sounds dripping from your lips, at the feeling of you clenching as he abused the spot inside of you that was just right.

you could tell andrew was close by the way his hips stuttered and his feet braced but losing grip against the bed to fuck himself that little bit farther into you. the fervor and attention he put into your coupling pushed you right to the edge with him, ready to break. as he prepared his final outwards thrust, you locked your ankles behind the small of his back, pulling him impossibly further with no room to do anything else.

andrew’s breath hitched, his hips couldn’t pull backwards and you were just so fucking warm and drenched. he smothered his face into your neck, a wail coming from deep within his sternum as all he could do now was buck his cum into you as his orgasm ripped through his nerve endings; the spot just behind his belly button exploding and shooting the pleasure outwards.

the feeling of andrew’s ecstasy filling you deep paired with his ragged breathing and cries sent you over with him. white hot pleasure bursting behind your eyelids, your hand reaching down to the top of his ass to bury him deep within you.

you peppered kisses across his forehead, whatever patch of skin you could get your lips on. you ran your free hand over his broad shoulders, tracing the smattering of freckles as the sweat cooled in the open air. andrew hummed his satisfaction, nuzzling his nose against your throat as your walls fluttered aftershocks around his spent member.

he paused, suddenly still for a moment in reflection.

“fuck, fuck. oh shit, fuck wait—” his breathless whispers turned alert quickly as he pulled his head up, bracing his palms on either side of your shoulders to look at you. he could almost get hard again at how blissed out you looked beneath him, because of him. almost. “i came in you, shit,” he was about to pull out before your legs held him steady, your hands rubbing up and down his forearms to slow him down.

“andy, it’s good, you’re good—”

“y’can still get knocked up. hormones don’t prevent that shit,” he cut you off, his tone serious. it made you slow your movements for a second. “‘fuckin read that, contraceptives are still needed to prevent—” it was your turn to cut him off, pressing your lips to his, not to shut him up, but to disrupt the snowballing thought process he was about to lose himself in. you didn’t go into so much detail about the reproductive components of the hormones you took, so hearing that he went out of his way to educate himself caused the torch in your chest to burn that much brighter for him.

“right, i’m sorry, i meant i take the pill,” he wasn’t wrong, you didn’t want his knowledge to go unseen and unappreciated. you wanted to ease the worry simmering beneath his skin.

“since when?” in the early days, just like your skincare routine, your pre-bed medication time came with cliff notes and birth control hadn’t been mentioned at the time. a pang of jealousy wormed its way to the back of andrew’s brain suddenly.

“since i kept dreaming about having you when you weren’t around,” your lips curled. “kids are for planning. we’re good,” the blush that bloomed across his face perfectly highlighting his freckles and arousal at the thoughts your words had conjured.

that wasn’t a rejection, he noted. his stare lingered while your choice of words mulled over in his head. planning? his cock, still snug inside of you, twitched to life. this was something he needed to unpack and dissect. he needed a few hours at least, but the implication that you’d be willing to raise kids, multiple with him brought a second wind to his sails. andrew experimentally rolled his hips against your shuddering core, your sex still sensitive to the overstimulation.

“talk later, give me one more, babe. please, andrew?”

how could he deny anything you asked?

[enbyscript]

18+ minors DNI sfw drabble pope cody x nonbinary/trans!reader

cant stop thinking abt pope hanging out at reader’s apartment more and more often and eventually their roommates making appearances very casually. at first he gets super tense and either has a hand on reader while theyre on the couch or just scoots closer to them in general.

but reader only lives with lgbtqia+ people so they see this and are like oomfie has a feral cat ok we’ll go at your pace sir. theyre super respectful of his space and walk/talk around him to reader as casually as they can. if theyre ordering food for the roommates they check in w reader abt what pope likes to eat and order for him too.

pope getting more comfortable around them and reader starts to notice and it makes them so happy they could cry. one night one of your roommates is going out on a date and she’s worried she looks to masculine in the outfit she chose and is just super nervous and pope gives her a once over from the hall coming back from the bathroom and hits her with a “you look good, quit bein’ a baby” and the silence is deafening.

your roommate realizes how big this is and is overwhelmed w emotion at this comfort hes providing strangely? and kisses him on the cheek with a big smack of her lipstick and with all the confidence in the world heads out the door telling you both to not wait up.

and pope comes back to the couch and wipes the lipstick off with his hand and you kiss his other cheek and all over his face till hes blushing and telling you to knock it off, but hes not serious he doesnt want you to stop he loves the praise and the positive reinforcement of his good behavior

GOD I LOVE POPE AND THE GAGGLE OF QUEERS THAT ADOPT HIM

[enbyscript]

pope cody x trans/nonbinary!reader moodboard

i got a little addicted to making these so theres gonna be a robby one coming up as well

[enbyscript]

18+ MDNI nsfw. pope cody x nonbinary/trans reader. this is what i was thinking of that needed some sort of background enjoy 👌 not beta’d we are dying our little deaths here

your relationship with pope cody remained relatively slow since you first kissed him on the old couch in your apartment. now, it was most nights he would end up with you, whether in the living room or your bedroom, simply sharing space. what really changed was the connection that was now mutually understood, and welcomed.

your displays of affection remained private, for now. as much as you wanted to move as quickly as your infatuated little heart wanted, you knew that to do right by pope was to keep things steady. this was all new to him, the relationship, the idea of being wanted, and a partner like you.

so it became routine to alternate laying your heads in each others’ laps while running your hands through both your hair. soft touches, lingering kisses that didn’t go too far, but the want was there. god, was it there.

pope admitted one night as he lay in your arms, head tucked under your chin with his whole body nearly on top of you, that he found it easier sleeping in your apartment than at his mother’s house. a part of you must have known that, the dark circles under his eyes having lessened since he began staying longer and longer and eventually passing out. you felt contradicting feelings at this knowledge, your heart both broken and fluttering with life at the same time.

your heart felt a similar flutter as you laid on your side parallel to pope, lips languidly moving against his own on your bed. one of your hands stayed fisted in his black tshirt while the other alternated from his bicep, cupping his neck, or running through the auburn curls at the back of his head.

kissing pope was indescribable. you don’t think you’ve ever felt anything like it before, so how was one to compare? you could do it forever and never tire. the feeling of him relaxing under your touch was addicting, and the small noises he made heated something akin to syrup in your veins.

pope pulled away from your lips, one hand holding your cheek with the other resting on your last row of ribs; respectful, but heavy handed. you let yourself get lost in the picture he painted before you: lips swollen and wet, hair mussed and wild from your wandering hand. his attempts at gaining your eye contact pulled you from memorizing his image, your eyes now reflecting his.

“i wanna do something,” he sounded breathless, rightly so after what felt like an eternity but all to short of a kissing session. “wanna get my mouth on you. can i?” pope rarely admitted to wanting anything. almost as if he wasn’t used to being heard, and especially unused to actually getting what he wanted.

if your face wasn’t already heated it surely would be at this point. and that heat quickly went southward. pope had yet to push farther than the over the clothes touching and lip locking until now. you refused to be the one to take that step, explicitly letting him know it wasn’t for lack of wanting him— god, it was the complete opposite. you could get lost in pope so easily, but he had to be ready and wanting, not just willing to appease.

“yeah, anything you want.” his eyes fluttered shut at your words, lips ghosting a smile against yours as he slowly maneuvered you onto your back. your hands splayed by your sides as he inched his way down the bed to settle on his knees. calloused fingers traced up the outside of your legs, over the hem of your boxers and landing on the waistband.

pope’s forefingers teased at the waistband for a moment, eyeing the sliver of skin above it thanks to your sleep shirt riding up just so. the wispy smattering of body hair catching his attention before getting back to his task. the entire time you followed his touch, consistently flitting between his actions and his face. you were braced for any sign of his discomfort, at worst possible disgust.

all you could see was wonder.

finally he hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled your boxers down. pope didn’t even look to where he tossed them, too focused on you before him.

your heart began racing with anxiety and anticipation. you were already wet from his kiss and modest groping, but looking at him looking at you made you keenly aware of the feeling. pope’s hands settled onto your knees, gently pulling them apart to get a good look at your center.

he couldn’t believe he had you here, like this, right in front of him. and it was real. your center glistening and wet because of him— for him. the thought alone had him aching, pants suddenly much tighter than before. pope’s fingertips caressed your lips before making their way higher.

“it’s big, your,” his voice trailed off as he studied your swollen clit with his eyes, your breath hitching as he prodded with his touch.

“t-the hormones. makes it grow at first, but it’s still the same,” he’s asked questions before about what changes someone would experience, like you. his genuine curiosity made it feel less like teaching, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, into more like sharing parts of yourself.

he continued like that for a bit, taking his time studying your flesh beneath his touch. mapping out your anatomy as well as figuring out where he could touch and with how much pressure to make you react. your eyes closed when he applied more pressure around your clit.

“ha-ah,” steady exhales let him know he was doing it right. well, he already knew what he was doing in general, but this with you was new.

you felt it before you saw, eyes snapping open when pope finally put his mouth on you. he licked from hole to top without rush, savoring the burgeoning taste on his tongue.

“oh, you feel good,” you moaned, tightening your hold on the bedding. your praise ignited something in pope, then. his eyes darting up to your face, zeroing in on your clit before he wrapped his lips around it and sucked.

the air was knocked out of you, one hand shooting to ensnare itself in his curled hair. you whimpered as he continued his assault, alternating between bobbing his lips and licking along your bundle of nerves. each change in movement amplified the pressure building in your core.

pope lost himself in the moment, allowing himself enjoy having you splayed out under his tongue, hands holding your thighs apart to provide space to get as close as he possibly could just short of crawling into your skin. the twitch of your muscles under his touch, his mouth, and the positively debauched sounds had his cock aching so terribly that he sought relief in the form of grinding against your mattress. each roll of his hips downward had him breathing heavier into you.

the cycle of repetitive licking and sucking continued as your core tightened impossibly, moans and praises increasing concurrently.

“m’close, oh, keep going, andrew,” his name fell from your lips as you reached your peak, white hot pleasure shooting up and through you.

andrew couldn’t stop—wouldn’t. his vigor renewed at the feeling of your orgasm, but his name registering in his ears slammed him like a fucking freight train. he pressed his face further against your sex to smother the wanton moan that slipped from his lips, hips stuttering against the bed as his cock painted the inside of his underwear with his unexpected peak.

once the aftershocks subsided, andrew eased himself up to collapse by your side. you took a couple of minutes to catch your breath before deciding how to follow such an earth shattering experience.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom, then i’ll grab you some clean underwear,” you both locked eyes as you detailed what you were about to do. any sudden movement or absence without due warning was unlikely to comfort pope. he nodded understanding, easing your worry before following true to your words.

you found your underwear on the floor on the way out and slipped them on, and upon your return acquiring a clean pair from your drawer. he slipped off his jeans and let you help him out of his soiled boxers and into the fresh pair.

you kissed him before you resumed your prior positioning on the bed. hands cupping his stubbled cheeks while you poured all the overflowing affection from your heart into your lips. you felt his own raise to a smile, eyes closed as you pulled away and remaining when his eyes reopened. you maneuvered yourself flat on your back while andrew wrapped himself around your frame and rested his head against your chest, relaxing his body to the sound of your heartbeat.

“i can’t believe i fuckin’ came in my pants like a teenager,” andrew’s soft laughter was buried against your shirt, nosing against the soft cotton of your shirt. you smiled and let out a laugh of your own with him, fingernails lightly scratching against his scalp.

“i loved it, might make you do it again sometime,” he snorted at your teasing. the room grew quiet save for each other’s steady breaths.

peace settled in your bones as your brain began to shut down for sleep. andrew gingerly pulled the covers over you both, returning his arm to its rightful place hugging your waist. you could feel the last shred of tension ease from his muscles as he slipped into slumber.