Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/14138703.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Animal_Kingdom_(TV), Animal_Kingdom_2010, Animal_Kingdom_Movie
  Relationship:
      Andrew_'Pope'_Cody/Joshua_'J'_Cody
  Character:
      Andrew_'Pope'_Cody, Joshua_'J'_Cody, Other(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Revised_Version, Based_on_the_movie, Alternate_Universe_-_Gender_Changes,
      Female_J, Incest, Uncle/Niece_Incest, Unhealthy_Relationships, Everyone
      Has_Issues, Psychological_Trauma, References_to_Depression, Pope_is_a
      creep
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-29 Chapters: 2/? Words: 1538
****** let light not see my black and deep desires ******
by IceisAwesome
Summary
     I don't know how to rationalize writing this. If you want a summary,
     it's based on the 2010 film and revolves around Josephine Cody and
     her relationship with Pope Cody.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Overdoses on the telly are always dramatic. There’s always blood or vomit or
shaking, there’s always a sign.
But when mum dies there’s nothing, no sound at all, nothing to mark when that
last bit of life leaves her.
J sits there when the cops come, lets them take their statement and answers
their questions, does her job and wishes desperately she could stop feeling
numb.
She lies when the cops ask, say she’s eighteen ‘cause she’s heard stories about
the system. Rue ran away rather than go back to her foster parents. Jim got
taken away for knifing his foster dad when he touched him. She’s not stepping
into that mess, not until all other options are gone.
===============================================================================
The phone call is quick and awkward, so uncomfortable J feels like squirming
when grandma doesn’t recognize her, when she has to bring up mum’s death.
Mum had always warned her away, had always told her nothing good would come
from keeping in contact with her family, but it’s not like she has a choice.
Besides, she’s already used to the criminal shit they must get up to. J had hid
it, but she did her fair share of car stealing and running interference for the
local dealers. She’s not the saint of a daughter mum wanted, even if she could
wear the mask easily enough.
===============================================================================
Grandma looks exactly the same.
It makes her feel cheated somehow, that after all these years, after the
woman’s daughter dying, she still looks the same.
Same bright lipstick and same bright eyes, same dyed hair and same walk, same
swagger. Grandma puts a hand on her face, interrupting her thoughts, and J
flushes when she realizes she’s been caught staring.
J follows her down the steps, half listening to her talk, and wonders just what
she sees.
Wonders what she thinks of the hair so close to her scalp, wonders if she’ll
ask why she chopped it all off. Wonders if she’s noticed the scars on her arms
and the bruises on her legs, wonders if she’ll ask.
Wonders if grandma will even care if she tells her.
===============================================================================
Living with mum’s family is almost nice.
Grandma is openly affectionate in a way mum never was, kind words contrasting
what she remembers of mum’s shouts and drug fueled rants.
Baz is kind in a way she’s unfamiliar with, kind in a way that lets her know
he’s a good dad. Darren treats her like a little sister, teasing gentle and
words affectionate. Craig isn’t nearly as nice as the others, but he does seem
sorry when he hears mum’s dead, even if he goes back to the coke almost
immediately.
They’re kind, and they feel like a family, and J knows to never get
comfortable.
Not when she knows the things grandma’s done, not when she knows Baz has killed
people and Darren follows his lead, not when she knows the flat and all of
Craig’s cash comes from dealing drugs.
Not when J knows, when everything comes undone, that she’ll be the one that’s
fucked.
===============================================================================
 
The bottle clatters to the ground, glass shatters on the floor, and J is left
staring at the man that’s materialized in the kitchen.
“Uncle Pope?” she voices, quiet and hesitant when he asks if she knows who he
is.
Her uncle twitches when he recognizes her, looking harried, and J remembers the
reports, remembers what Baz had said. Foolish to come home when the cops have
to be looking for him, J thinks, but not unexpected. Not from what she’s heard.
===============================================================================
She sneaks glances at her uncle while he and Baz argue, while Craig laughs and
Darren shifts in discomfort.
Mum didn’t talk much about her brothers, never cared to revisit that part of
her past. But J remembers eavesdropping during one of grandma’s rare visits
before mum cut off contact completely.
J had always thought the woman that talked back to cops and stared down the
landlord without hesitation was the bravest person in the world.
She always thought that, always believed it to be true-until she heard the fear
in mum’s voice when she talked about uncle Pope.
She’d tried to ask when the others had left, tried to ask why mum was afraid of
her own family, but mum had only fixed her with a look and refused to answer.
Looking at the man that had terrified mum so badly, J doesn’t see it.
She doesn’t see anything that would cause the distress in her voice, that would
create the fear in her eyes when they argued over letting him see his niece.
He looks harmless-or as harmless as their family can be. Watching him, looking
for some sign of whatever scared mum so badly, J doesn’t feel numb like usual,
a frisson of excitement lighting its way up her spine instead.
She wants to peel off that mask he wears, wants to make him come undone and see
what happens when he shatters.
J wants to see the monster that has to be hiding underneath.
 
 
 
***** Chapter 2 *****
Darren took grandma out to dinner, Baz is home with his wife, and Craig is out
doing something-she doesn’t care enough to find out what.
Normally J would savor the quiet, would relish being able to sip her beer and
watch the telly in peace.
But a part of her is on edge and wary, acutely aware she’s alone in the house
with Pope.
He hasn’t done anything wrong, hasn’t even talked to her, but something about
him makes her skin itch. Something in his eyes makes her want to run, makes her
want to have a gun in hand when dealing with him.
She startles when he sits on the couch next to her, his own beer in hand, and
her uncle looks at her but doesn’t comment, opting instead to stare at the
telly.
J is beginning to relax, leaning against the couch, when he speaks again.
“You a dyke?”
“What?”
“You know,” Pope says, running a hand through his hair, “the hair. That’s a
dyke look, isn’t it?”
“No,” J bites out, “I’m not.”
She tries to go back to watching whatever’s on the telly-tries to, at least,
since he’s still staring.
J stays still, stays quiet, pretends not to notice the way his eyes roam over
her. She wants to run, wants to hole up in her room, but she can’t. Not when
she’s trapped like this, not when there’s a predator between her and the exit.
Uncle Pope moves before she can work up the courage to leave, surprisingly
gentle hands cupping her face. J freezes at that, watches with wide eyes as one
hand moves down to rub at her thigh while the other props up her chin when she
tries to look down.
Shock and fear mix together as she stares into those blank eyes, as his hand
moves farther up her thigh.
But she still doesn’t move, something like fascination mingling with the fear
pooling in her stomach, still doesn’t move when he leans even closer and
captures her lips with his own.
The man bites down, pulling a moan that’s half pleasure and half pain from her.
She can feel him smile against her lips, can feel him pull her closer and onto
his lap.
She should hit him and run, she should call the cops or find a place to hide.
She should, but she stays in his lap instead, stays still when his hands wander
even more.
And then he licks up in her mouth, tongue spreading the blood dripping from her
bottom lip, and J rocks forward, suddenly aware of the dampness spreading in
her panties.
She can taste the bittersweet blood in her mouth, she can feel his hands
roaming up her shirt and pulling down her bra, pinching at her nipples between
two calloused fingers.
This is dirty, this entire thing is wrong, and she never wants it to stop.
J rocks forward again, squeaking in surprise at the sudden hardness against her
leg, but Pope only laughs into her mouth, hand dipping down and into her
shorts.
“Fuck,” her uncle whispers, voice harsh and labored, and J whines again, crying
out when his fingers find her slit.
His movements are quick and sloppy, rubbing harshly against her clit, but J
still moans, still shudders at the feeling of calloused fingers on her sex.
“Shit,” J breathes, “shit, shit, shit.”
She nearly screams as she cums, mouth bent into the crook of his neck to muffle
her yells as she rocks forward and rides out the wave pouring through her body.
Finally it finishes, the bliss is gone, and J squirms in the aftermath, acutely
aware of her wet panties, acutely aware she’s still tucked against his body.
“You’ve never done this before, have you?” He finally speaks up, voice quiet as
she pulls away.
“No” J confirms, watching him warily, waiting for something, though she doesn’t
know what. 
He smirks instead, a dark thing full of promise, and pulls her close again,
settling his chin on her dark hair. 
“Then I’m the first,” Pope speaks up, dark satisfaction in his voice. “Just
like I’m gonna be the first cock you’ll ever take.”
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