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rubiehart · 2 hours

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when john b is wanted by the cops, leopard!reader uses her pretty privilege to get the pogues some sustenance in the form of shitty pizza.

the roughed up teens sit in the crowded truck, seats reclined to keep them out of view of any passers-by who were drooling for that reward money. the yellow-ish light coming from the ‘urban slice’ sign illuminated the side walk, casting eerie shadows across the faces of the teens and distorted reflections against the windows.

“does anyone have any more cash to contribute?” clearly irritated, pope tries again, shaking the few coins he has in the palm of his hand, giving expected looks towards everyone. the silence was all the evidence he needed and he lets out a long sigh.

“dude, i’m so hungry i could eat my own arm.” jj pipes up, throwing his head back against the seat and flopping his arm around for empasis. the girl with her head on his lap gives him a sideways look, teeth crunching down loudly on the hard candy, completely unamused by his antics.

“only time i’ll agree with jj.” kiara adds from the driver’s seat, throwing an arm over her eyes and groaning. jj scoffs. “how much you got pope?” the second girl asks, sitting up from her laying position against jj and eyeing up pope expectedly. “uh-“ he starts, jingling the coins around between his palms to count. “79 cents.” he almost winces, eyes flitting to the girls face as she throws herself back against the leather seat with a groan. “great.”

“will you all shut up, for even five seconds? please.” john b asks with his eyebrows furrowed, turning his body to face the three in the backseat, eyes trained specifically on the girl with a short temper. “acting like i can’t hear your stomach rumbling from here.” she quips back, arms crossed over her chest, an equally unamused expression on her face.

huffing impatiently, she takes one last glance at her unhelpful friends, reaching over pope to pull the handle of the door. “since none of you losers wanna help-“ she starts, climbing over pope’s stunned body and jumping down onto the pavement, her sneakers smacking the concrete. “i’ll just do this myself.”

“um- i know i’m not the plan guy but i’m not really seein’ how this is workin’ out.” john b adds from the front seat, eyeing her suspiciously through the dirty window and she rolls her eyes, a little grin gracing her lips, teeth glinting in the shifty light.

“i got this. ‘kay?” she directs the questions at everyone, but her eyes are still trained on john b’s, blinking slowly as his eyes widen ever so slightly, his whole attitude seemingly changing. “uh- yeah whatever, be safe n’ stuff.” he nods, ignoring jj’s teasing from the backseat.

she gives everyone a once over, returning kiara’s supportive thumbs up with sticking her tongue out, slamming the car door and starting towards the borderline abandoned pizzeria.

she pushes open the door, big smile on her face directed to the only person behind the counter, a boy about her age, his cheeks noticeably redden as he looks her over, he hesitantly returns a little smile as she shoves her hands into the back pockets of her shorts, back arched a little and tits pushed forward as she eyes up the menu overhead.

her eyes are big and innocent as she blinks slowly at the menu, eyes flitting to his once she’d decided. “could i please get a large pizza, deep dish.“ she starts, eyes trained on him intently as he nods, stabbing nervously at the shitty screen, attempting to take her order.

“um- what toppings?” he hiccups out, her eyes widen a little and she pouts her lips a little, looking to the side as if she was thinking. “hmm..” she mumbles, bouncing on her heels a little, boobs practically in his face as she reels of her incessant list of toppings.

“cool. uh- will that be all?” he asks, scratching behind his ear awkwardly as he tries to keep his eyes on her face. “mhm. and a strawberry milkshake, extra whipped cream.” she smiles, rapping her nails against the chipped marble counter, tips of his ears reddening as he processes the order and quickly scurries into the back without another word.

she smirks to herself, pulling out her phone and swiping onto whatever app to pass the time, elbows leaning against the counter as the guy sneaks glances at her whilst sprinkling olives onto her pizza.

sliding her order across the counter to her. “that’ll be $12.95.” he nods, and she smiles, a little too confidently for someone who currently doesn’t even have a cent to her name. “for sure.”

she reaches into her bra, purposely making a show of dipping hem of her tank down to show the lace of her bra. “oh shoot.” she whispers, theatrically patting down the rest of her pockets and sighing when she expectedly finds nothing, concealing her smirk at the way his gaze followed her hands, shamlessly taking up and down her body as she pouted.

“i must’ve forgot my purse..” she mumbles, throwing one hand down at her side, giving her best puppy eyes to the scrawny boy and he goes red, something that seemed to be routine for him. “uh, y’know what, it’s on the house. closing up this shit hole in half an hour or so anyways-“ he coughs up the excuse, clearly a lie but she was thankful anyway.

“really?” she smiles, canines gleaming as she picks up the pizza box, milkshake in the other hand, wrapping her lips around the shitty paper straw and taking an overly suggestive sip, eyes closed and fluttering as she lets out a pleasured noise.

“that’s really good.” she smiles, he’s bright red by this point and she’s feeling a little bad, although she does take pride in making perverted men uncomfortable, he seemed sweet so she left it at that. “see ya!” she turns on her heel, waving behind her as the little bell above the door chimes to signal her exit, sneakers tapping against the concrete as she slides open the truck door again, the smell of freshly baked pizza filling the senses of the starved teens.

“someone order a pizza?”

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belovedvenom · 1 month

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“this is risky jj. we're gonna get caught”

“relax no we're not, just-- trust me okay. i got you.”

pope stares at him a bit before looking around and sighing. letting out a soft “okay.”

𖦹⭒°｡⋆ jj is letting out the most pornographic noises as pope bobs his head up and down jj’s cock. head thrown back against the seat of the twinkie, heavy lidded eyes glancing out the window to make sure their shared friends aren’t about to catch the windows fogging up with the two of them inside. his moans get more higher pitched when pope takes him to the hilt, tongue pressed up against his shaft as he stays there and starts to throat his dick like a lollipop. “a-aah fuck, m’so close.” his hips twitch as pope moans, hand coming down to softly caress the back of popes neck up to his cheek, feeling the imprint of his own dick. pope lifts up a bit to circle his tongue around jj’s tip. “shiiiit dude” he grips the seat. “put it in your mouth” he takes the blonde deep in his throat again making him whimper. “fuck stay low. suck it- just like that” he bucks his hips roughly as pope sucks him off. “yeah thats it. tongue my shaft.” popes hand grips jj’s knee as his hips jaggedly thrust towards th back of his throat. “fuck m’gonna cum- oh fuck” groaning as he cums thick hot ropes down popes throat. he keeps him in his mouth until he softens, jj twitching in sensitivity. when pope finally drags himself off him, he pants against the seat. “shit dude, i ever tell you your mouth is fucking exceptional.” reaching forward, jj pulls pope toward in a sloppy kiss. tasting himself on popes tongue as they swap back and forth spit and cum.

#jj maybank prompt #pope heyward prompt #jj x pope #pope x reader #obx smut #jj maybank smut #pope heyward smut

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leaclark · 30 days

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kiara carrera mood board ✌️🐢🐚

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stvolanis · 2 months

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pope is so pretty I’m gonna cum chat.

pope, your dads new best friend, was a little different than all your other dads friends. at the dinner table, popes fingers would dance across your thighs, parting them just enough to slip his highly skilled fingers into your core. “Didn’t wear panties for me? good girl.” He’d whisper, watching you grip onto your fork like your life depended on it as his thumb circled your little bundle of nerves!

you purposely leave your door cracked open when your dad told you pope would be swinging by to pick something up while he was gone, leaving you alone in the house. And of course, Popes gonna check up on his favorite girl! But, unexpectedly, his cock jumps at the sight of you with your legs spread, and a pink dildo slipping past your puffy folds :3

what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t help his best friends daughter cum? A lousy one! He helps you shove the rather small dildo into your cunt repeatedly, while muttering things like, “my baby just wants to be full, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” And, “you’re gonna take my cock so well, aren’t you?”. Pope knows you can’t respond, but he thinks you’re so cute when you babble out incoherent words!! >.< Just let him do all the work for you💕

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @sapriao @parkbabyj @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived

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poguesprincess · 2 months

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how about pope fingering reader in the back of the twinkie ..

oh anon .. this concept 😵‍💫

*.⊹˚𝜗୧ ‧₊˚

“john b is going to kill me,” he stresses as you drag him by the hand over to the battered van with a devilish giggle. you’re quick to push him into the unlocked car, stumbling on top of him as you try to hurriedly press your lips against his.

“jesus— slow— slow down?” you’re all over him, his body half on the couch seat of the van, and he’s desperately trying to find the lock so as to minimize the chance that someone were to show up unprompted. your hand flies to his jeans, now seated on top of him, desperately trying to undo his belt buckle in a surge of adrenaline.

“missed you— so much—“ you mumble in between kisses, keening into his touch as his fingers massage into your thighs, still trying to get you to slow down a bit, “you saw me this morning,” he reasons, sucking in a sharp breath as you finally undo his pants, not hesitating to fit your hand into the opening.

“yeah, that was like, hours ago.”

“it’s eleven thirty—“

“shut up, pope.”

you’re quick to undo your own pants now, haphazardly pulling your shirt off, breasts spilling out from your bra. you laugh at the way it makes his lips part, eyes focusing completely on the lace of your bra and the way it compliments your soft skin. he reaches to grab the back of your thigh, just below the fold of your ass, pulling you under him swiftly before you could assume complete control of the situation.

he’s on his knees now, and your legs find their way over his shoulder as he inspects the want evident on your underwear. two fingers reach to rub you through the fabric, and you stifle a whimper. “pope..”

“isn’t this what you wanted? don’t worry, i’m gonna give you what you need.”

your head falls back as he moves his fingers to tug your panties to the side, pad of his index quick to find the wetness pooling by your hole. he coos, and it makes your face burn with embarrassment.

when he finally dips a finger in, knuckles deep, you let out a deep groan. he’s quiet as he find his rhythm, twisting and curling his long digits as he tries to find what makes you cry out in the specific way you like. he’s studying your every reaction, every twitch of your body and sound of your lips, face scrunched in a way you can only describe as pure desire as he watches you writhe above him.

every protest you make is cut off by a different thrust of his hand. you wanted more of him, you had since you’d tricked him into meeting you here, but he was determined to have you fall apart with his hands alone. he slides another finger in agonizingly slow, and your hand flies to grip his hair as you try to maintain composure. your eyes flutter closed, and he angles his fingers up farther into your cunt.

“look at me.”

when you do, it only stirs you on more. his gaze is hard, eyes loyal to maintaining contact with your desperate ones. the dominance of it only brings you closer to release. it’s all he’s said to you since he’s brought you apart with his fingers, and it does something to you. your lips part as he brings you closer, brows scrunching as you search for some sort of purchase. his eyes are still locked in with yours, and you can see him fight back his smile.

“let go, baby. just let go.” it sends you over the edge, body falling limp as you cry out weakly. he doesn’t stop thrusting into you as your orgasm takes you over, fingers repeatedly massaging that one spot inside of you that has you falling apart. you try wiggle your way away from him, overstimulation replacing pleasure, but he clamps a firm hand to your thigh to keep you from moving.

“give me another one,” you can see his hardness through the thin material of his briefs, strained and neglected, but his tone commands you keep your eyes on his, and you struggle to find it in you to fight back.

when he finishes you off for the third time, he pops his fingers in his mouth with a cocky smile, sucking off the remnants of your juices happily. it makes you roll your eyes, before you jump at the sound of sudden intrude.

“seriously, dude? pope?” john b calls from outside the twinkie, hand covered over his eyes as he shamefully shakes his head at the two of you. strings of curses fall from his mouth as you scramble to find your clothes and put them on, scolding you as you giggle as you do so. you can faintly hear jj wolf-whistle from next to john b, and popes face falls in his hands, red from embarrassment.

#꒰ ۫ ੭ requests! ୨ৎ ꒱#εïз pope prompt !#pope heyward prompt #pope heyward #pope x reader

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somethingswift19 · 3 months

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Alt+Nerd= <3 Pope x (f) reader

| Warnings:

| Summary: The bubbly alt girl falls for Pope, the nerdy and serious guy.

| (a/n): I had a good reaction to the alt reader x obx so I wanted to continue that a little bit :) I'm so tired so if this is awful I apologize but I had fun writing it so that's really what counts right? Not proof read.

Leaning up against the lockers you watched as the whole pouge friend group walked past, sighing to yourself. Since freshman year you had had a thing for the smart one, Pope. He was so cute and serious and when he got all serious it made him even cuter and more adorable in your eyes. He was misunderstood and looked over a lot for John B and JJ. And even when he wasn't being looked over, he rarely noticed when girls hit on him. Green flags tbh.

But this brings you back to today...as you watched them all walk passed you knew you were probably not his type considering he was dating Kiara but a girl can dream. You had your black and blue hair straightened and pulled back into pigtails, neon green glasses, black cropped hoodie, skinny jeans, and orange nike airs on. "Hey! You ready for class?" your best friends voice snapped you out of your trance.

"Oh yeah, sorry," you shook your head and smiled before grabbing your bag and walking to AP biology. Tapping your pen on the desk, you day dreamed as the teacher went over the previous test. This was your favorite class but today you were just distracted. Before you knew it, the bell rang and you realized you hadn't taken a single note. Shit you thought. But that's when you had the idea... "Hey Pope!" you yelled after the boy as you ran to catch up to him.

"Uh...hi?" he looked at you confused. Honestly fair considering you have had probably two conversations with him in total. "What's up?"

"Oh, well...I kinda have a problem," you began. "Is there anyway you can go over the science notes from today with me? I didn't quite get all of it." Correction, I was staring at you like a total stalker for the entire class and wasn't paying any attention.

"Oh uh, yeah sure. Meet me at lunch and I'll give you my notes," Pope said as you nodded.

"Lucky I have the smartest guy in school in my class!" you responded cheerfully.

"Well technically Thomas Jennings is the number 1 in our class so he would be the smartest. I'm probably top five-" he rambled on before you cut him off.

"Pope," you stated. "Take the compliment and go with it. A cute girl is calling you smart."

As lunch rolled around, you met up with him and you copied down his notes from the day. "I like your glasses by the way." This snapped you out of you concentration.

"I'm sorry?" you asked not quite processing.

"Your glasses," he smiled. "They're cool. I like them."

"Oh," blushing hard core, you smiled. "Thank you!"

"Sorry if this is weird," he started, scratching the back of his neck. "You remind me of someone."

"Yeah? And who might that be?" you put your pen down and smiled. You were in the conversation now. Can't take this for granted.

"Abbey from NCIS," this time he came across as shy.

"Wait, no way! Thank you so much! I've always loved her and Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds. I think that's where my style comes from. But Oh my God Thank you!" you knew you were rambling but fuck it. "Wait you watch NCIS?"

"Oh yeah, I love that show," Pope chuckled at your enthusiasm. "I always wanted to be like Duckie. I want to be a coroner."

"That's so dope," you smiled. "I want to go into forensics."

"That's not people's usual reaction to that," he stated.

You could stare into his eyes all day, good God, "Hey, we should meet up at the wreck after school. I mean if you want."

"Yeah! My friends and I were already planning on meeting up there later," he started. "You can come with us."

"Ok! I would love that!," this time it was your turn to chuckle. "Maybe after we can have some alone time? Just the two of us?"

"Wait...what?" the quizzical look he had on his face was adorable.

"Here," you said grabbing his arm and writing your number down. "I've been flirting with you for the past half hour for the record." You winked at him and started grabbing your things.

"I-I'll text you," he called after you and JJ looked over at him giving him a thumbs up. You knew he was watching you leave as you walked out of the cafeteria.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Time Skip After Shool~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as you got home, you got ready to meet up with the pouges and considering this was the first time, and you were hanging out with pope, you had to look decent. Deciding on ripped black skinny jeans and a blue halter top with David Bowie vans high tops, you threw your hair into a half up half down bun and put on some lashes. Your green glasses still adorning your face. Dabbing on some lip gloss, you took one final look at yourself in the mirror before heading out.

Pope's friends were really nice and very chill honestly! Kiara was standoffish at first but quickly warmed up. And you learned Sarah Cameron was nothing like you expected! "So Ms. (Y/n)," JJ exclaimed throwing his arm over your shoulder. "Pope has told us a lot about you." Pope was signaling for him to shut the fuck up but that's not what JJ does.

"Has he now?" you giggled looking over at him.

"I wouldn't say a alot..." Pope was trying to hide his face now.

"Really?" JJ began. "So she isn't the cool, colored hair girl who is the only person who is better in science than you?"

"And she isn't the sweet and talkative girl who reminds you of...what's that show again?" Kiara chimed in laughing and using hand motions.

"Ok, ok, leave him alone," John B very kindly said. "And the show is NCIS."

"That's right!" everyone exclaimed at once embarrassing him and making you laugh and look at him sweetly.

"So exactly how smart are you to be better at Pope in something?" Sarah asked putting a french fry in her mouth.

"Oh, um," you were blushing now from the attention. "I'm just freakishly good at science. He's still smarter than I am." He smiled and shook his head at you. After a couple hours the two of you snuck off, but not without whistles from the others. Walking down to the shoreline, having your feet touch the water as you looked at the shells and things washing up. "Thank you for inviting me to hang out with you and your friends."

"Oh, it's no problem," he stated. "Thanks for writing your number on my arm. JJ was proud." This caused you to chuckle a little bit.

"Earlier you said I wasn't what you expected," you said softly. "You aren't what I expected either."

This time his facial expression was nervous as he snapped his head to look at you, "In a good way or a bad way?"

Smiling widely up at him, "In the best way."

"(Y/n)?"

"Pope?"

"Do I have permission to kiss you?" he asked slightly awkwardly.

"Always," you responded sweetly. As your lips met, it was everything you had dreamed of. His hand came to rest on your face gently as he pulled you in closer causing you to throw your arms around his neck. The nerdy guy kissing the goth girl in the moonlight? How many cliches can you guys check off at once? But none the less, this was the perfect night.

#obx #john b routledge #jj maybank #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx fanfiction #kiara carrera #pope heyward #pope x reader #pope heyward x reader #pope obx x reader #pope obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fanfic #obx fic #pope x y/n

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 4 days

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Introducing: The Sanrio Girlies

So this cute ass idea came to me to make readers based off the Sanrio characters and I kind of just ran with it. It turned into a whole ass little AU. I had so much fun doing this, it’s been a minute since I got lost in creating something for hours. I do have main pairings in my mind for all of them BUT they’re absolutely interchangeable. I can see them all together for different reasons. I have so much LORE about them so feel free to send me asks about this lil universe. I’ll def be posting more about them because they are my babies and I’m proud of them. Tag yourself, I’m Kuromi. (Yes I self inserted)

Kuromi Reader

Trashy Y2K emo princess. Rebellious kook whose parents never agreed with her style or life choices. Hates driving, she was born for the passenger seat. Acts super bitchy but under the surface is a die hard romantic. Has never had a day job. Kind of unhinged, she will slash your tires if you do her wrong. Halloween obsessed. Has an OnlyFans. Reads romance novels in her free time. Spoiled brat. Has a tramp stamp. She’s the friend that says she’s “really not going to get that drunk tonight” but ends up getting dragged out of the party because she’s more wasted than everyone else, trying to fight people twice her size. In my AU she is Rafe’s girl but I could also see her and Jj being together.

My Melody Reader

Cute lil bimbo core baddie. Kook but spends all her time with the pouges. She grew up with rich her grandma who taught her everything about baking, sewing, and being a lady. Shops till she drops. Total empath. She loves doing things and buying things for the people she loves. The sweetest person you’ll ever meet until you mess with someone she cares about. Loves all things pink. Extremely smart despite her outward appearance. Neat and tidy. She thinks she’s responsible but she goes shopping at least twice a week, doesn’t have a job, and party’s every weekend. In my AU she is John B’s girl But I could also see her being with Rafe.

Batz Maru Reader

Total grungy tomboy. Pouge. Super sarcastic. Has a bunch of tiny little tattoos. Loves horror movies. Skates. Plays video games. She has hardcore mommy issues but has a bad ass metal head dad who owns an auto shop where she works. She’s always up to no good. If it’s not spray painting her literal name on shit and skateboarding on private property, it’s getting stoned out of her mind and blasting music so loud the whole neighborhood hears it. She’ll never tell anyone she has pink lingerie under all of that either. Batz is 100% Jj’s girl but I could also see her being with John B.

Keroppi Reader

She’s a multifaceted girlie. She’s a total boho beach bum but even when she’s on the beach she’s studying. Sporty. Played almost every sport in high school and was always the top of her class. Pouge. Total yogi. Going to school to be a veterinarian. Kind of a health nut, watches what she eats all week but let’s lose on the weekends with the girlies. Down to earth lover girl. She’s always there to listen when you need her and gives the best advice. Even if she is a little blunt about it. In my AU she is Pope’s Girl but I could also she her being with John B.

Cinnamon Roll Reader

Coquette soft girl. Shy and quiet until you get to know her. Professional Ballerina. Loves baby blue so much it’s part of her personality at this point. Kook. She grew up spoiled and sheltered so she’s a little clueless sometimes. Definitely has a planner and a strict daily routine. Loves to snack even though her ballet instructor tells her not to. Self care queen. Cry baby. Spends most of her time practicing for recitals and day dreaming. Cinna is kind of a wild card, I couldn’t decide who to pair her with, my first instinct is to make her Rafe’s girl but I could also see her and Jj being a polar opposite couple that balance each other out.

#rafe Cameron x reader #rafe Cameron concepts #outer banks blurb #Jj maybank x reader #jj maybank concept #rafe cameron blurb #pope x reader #Pope Hayward concepts #john b routledge #john b x reader #John b concepts #John b blurb #rafe Cameron #jj maybank #Sanrio!Readers #Sanrio!Girlies #dolly writes

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inlovewithpandora · 1 month

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ Outer Banks Masterlist ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

ᥫ᭡ — Welcome to my Outer Banks Playlist! // All fics are marked with genre keys. Before deciding to read a fic please read warnings/content labels carefully before continuing further, you're responsible for what you choose to consume. smut is recommended for users over the age of seventeen.

ᝰ Newest Release — Ass Obsession ft. Rafe Cameron

ᝰ Last Updated — March 21st 2024

・John Booker Routelege

・JJ Maybank

・Kiara Carrera

・Pope Heyward

・Sarah Cameron

・Rafe Cameron

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tlou-reid · 4 months

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How You Get the Girl ❆ Pope Heyward

☃︎SUMMARY: pope doesn't know how to end conversations correctly and it puts his relationship on the line.

☃︎WARNINGS: angst, kinda short, kiara is rude in this lmao, i was very uninspired so this is not that great

☃︎swiftmas masterlist!

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

Stand there like a ghost, shaking from the rain.

You knew who it was before you even opened the door. The pounds on your door were loud, but not aggressive. Pope had texted you, asking if it was okay if he came by to talk. You didn’t answer, but you knew he would come anyway.

You were mad, that much was obvious. Not the silly kind of mad you’d get when Pope stuck his spoon into your frozen yogurt or the loving kind of mad you’d get when JJ made him do something stupid and you worried about him. No, you were the kind of mad that had both of you questioning whether or not you were still dating.

It had been two days since you last spoke to him. Friday night, standing at the party, beer in your hand, and JJ begging you to walk away. You couldn’t remember when he had joined the conversation, but him pulling you away was the only thing that kept you from slapping Kiara right across her kooky fucking face.

You hadn’t heard the full story or the full conversation between Pope and Kiara, but you were mad the second you heard commenting on the dress you were in, telling Pope that you’d really decided to show off tonight. You knew she was hesitant to accept you, but you didn’t think she was actively plotting against your relationship with Pope. He’d already told you about their history, but it seemed like there were feelings still lingering.

While Kiara had been the one to stab the dagger into you, Pope was the one who twisted when he let out a sigh, mumbling a “yeah”, before trying to change the topic. He didn’t stick up for you, didn’t defend you from Kiara’s baseless accusations that you were trying to impress other people. Instead, he agreed and moved on. Anything to please her, you thought.

Since this was the little bit of the conversation you had heard before you blew up on them, you had spent the whole weekend overthinking and coming up with other hurtful things they could’ve been saying about you. You’d convinced yourself they were true, which led you to avoid the entire Pogue friend group all weekend.

So now, here Pope was, hoping he could patch up your wounds and go back to the happy relationship you’d been in. He stood in the cold rain, the chill from the coming outer banks winter was nipping at him, making his face pale and his nose gain a pink hue.

She’ll open up the door, and say are you insane?

“Are you insane?” You asked when you fully opened the door, ushering him inside. No matter how mad you were at him, you didn’t want him to get sick. You still loved him after all. He stepped in quickly, seeking both the warmth your house provided and to be closer to you.

“Y/N,” he was out of breath as if he had run here. “I’m sorry for whatever you think you heard, but I promise I wasn’t saying anything bad about you.” He was talking fast like he didn’t think he’d have time to get everything he wanted to say out. “I would never, ever say anything bad about you or believe anything anyone else says.”

“Pope, I heard you agree with her.” You rolled your eyes, crossed your arms over your chest, and took a step away from him. He knew you were being defensive. He could only imagine how much hearing that interaction must’ve hurt your feelings. All Pope wanted to do was go back and tell Kiara to stop, to walk away from the conversation entirely, to get up and go dance with you instead of listening to her. But he couldn’t. So, here he was, trying his hardest to get you to listen.

Say it’s been a long six months and you were too afraid to tell her what you want.

“No!” He exclaimed, growing frustrated with his inability to find the right words to say. “Y/N, please,” he was growing desperate, tired of the space between you two. “I just wanted her to shut up! I don’t know what’s going on with her! I wanted her to stop talking and I wanted to go dance with you, but I’m stupid and I didn’t.” Pope looked crazed, eyes wide and arms flailing to emphasize his points.

“You didn’t defend me!” You exasperated. Your voice cracked as you basically yelled at him. You wanted him to see how bad he hurt you. Kiara, you could deal with. She was just a girl who was friends with your boyfriend. But, Pope was your everything.

“I know,” Pope’s voice was gentler now, “I know. I should’ve. I should’ve told her that you can dress however you want. That you could’ve shown up in a trash bag, or even naked, and I still would’ve shown you off. I don’t care what people think or see or feel about you. I should’ve told her that but I didn’t and I’m so sorry.” At this point, Pope’s eyes were beginning to fill with tears.

“She’s gonna keep doing this,” You informed, cocking your hip to the side. If he was going to allow her to, there was no point in this conversation. His words were sweet and calmed your overthinking, but you needed change to happen.

“I won’t let her,” Pope sighs out, taking a step closer to you. He relaxed a bit when you didn’t step away from him. “I’ll tell her to stop and that I’m not going to talk to her if she doesn’t.” You could tell by his face how serious he was. His dark eyes were boring into yours.

He took another step towards you, “Please, don’t let this be the end of his. I’ve had a wonderful six months with you.” You held eye contact for a moment, before taking quick steps to wrap your arms around his waist. He didn’t waste any time pulling you close to him. “I’m sorry,” he breathed into the top of your head.

You nodded, letting the tears fall onto his shirt. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. When you pulled away, he kept his hands on your waist. Pope pulled in for a kiss. You couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth as you pulled away, “I love you.”

He smiled as you uttered the three words he’d been waiting for the first time. He’d already said them, but it was taking you just a bit longer. He wasn’t too worried about it, as he could see the way you loved him in the things you did.

“I love you, too.”

And that’s how it works, that’s how you get the girl.

#pope heyward #pope heyward imagine #pope heyward blurb #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward x y/n #pope imagine #pope x reader #pope heyward x you #outer banks blurb #outer banks imagine #outer banks x you #outer banks x reader #pope heyward angst #pope heyward fluff #outer banks angst #outer banks fluff #outer banks fanfiction #swiftmas 2023!

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anitalenia · 2 months

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━━ 𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒐 𝒅𝒖𝒎 𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒔 pt. 4

━━ 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔 / 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔. the frontier boys as random tropes. ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ part one | part two | part three

┊┊✧ ⁺ 𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 ⋆｡˚ ⋆ Pope, Will, Benny, Frank x fem!Reader

┊┊✧ ⁺ 𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓼 ⋆｡˚ ⋆ ceo!Pope x assistant!Reader, lumberjack!Will x bimbo!Reader, bartender!Benny x fem!Reader, step dad!Frank x step daughter!Reader

┊┊✧ ⁺ 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ⋆｡˚ ⋆ sexual content, implied smut, graphic depictions of sexual acts, fantasized sexual content, blowjobs, depictions of fingering, pussy eating, inappropriate family dynamics you definitely shouldn’t partake in, inappropriate work relationships that you definitely shouldn’t do in real life (unless you want to purrrr💅🏻), a little long just cause I haven’t made one in a while, slight dark content in Franks section

┊┊✧ ⁺ 𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 ⋆｡˚ ⋆ sorry for the wait with this series, people really loved it actually, more than I thought they would. The begging for another part finally got to me, so here you go!!!! Hope you enjoy while I work on the next one 😭

━━ SANTIAGO ‘POPE’ GARCIA ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

CEO! SANTIAGO ⊹₊˚

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 desk in those cute little skirts and too tight dresses, always so busy and always so beautiful. He liked to stare out at you from his private office with a semi hard cock in his black slacks; a perfect view of your desk and the best view of you.

He could never get any work done of course, not properly anyway, too busy thinking about you and all the things you’d do for him if he asked. You always did what he asked, so eager to work and so eager to please. You, you with those black stiletto heels and those pink pouty lips, you, you with your sweet voice and your round hips — begging to be fucked good.

Nngh, just you.

He liked to call you into his office for no real reason other than his own selfish desires; he liked to see your hips sway when you walked and stare at your soft tits when you’d lean over — it’s what really got him through the tough days.

He loved to hear your soft giggles and see your cheeks go pink when he’d say something scandalously sly, something a ceo definitely shouldn’t say to their assistant, something a boss definitely shouldn’t say to their employee.

He’d take you on business meetings and lavish business trips, invite you to expensive business dinners and elite business parties, it was always business, business, business. He wanted more than that, wanted to take you out for real and show you how much of a gentleman he could be if you’d give him the chance.

Mainly, he wanted to show you how good he could fuck you, much better than any man could, show you how well he knew your body in ways you even didn’t, in ways no man did.

He’d have to clench his fists and hold himself back from fucking you on his very desk with his blinds open for all the horny temps to see — the ones who could never seem to leave you and your beauty alone, the ones who gawked at you in the break room, the ones whose grimy hands lingered on your arm for just a little too long…

That always pissed him off, having to see those puny fanboys of yours charade around your desk like prissy princesses and fight for your attention — it was pathetic and obnoxious. He couldn’t fire them like he wanted to though (unfortunately), too many lawsuits already being filed against him that he was too rich to really care about.

He had lawyers for that shit anyway.

Santiago, or Santi as he’s made you call him now, liked to watch you talk. He loved hearing your voice, seeing the way your lips moved and sparkled with gloss as you rambled on about some company he supposedly owned, pacing his office as he sat in his chair with his dick hard under his desk.

He’d clench his jaw and picture how those lips would look wrapped around his thick cock, your lipstick leaving stains all over him that he could admire later — maybe he’d even have you under his desk during meetings, sitting right between his legs with your lipstick smeared over your cheeks, and a sweet mix of your saliva and his cum dripping down his balls —

“Are you even listening to me?” You’d always scold him with your arms crossed over your chest when you’d notice his blank stare, pushing your tits up and giving him yet another fantasy he couldn’t get his mind off of.

He’d quickly snap out of whatever trance he was in, eyes flickering from your tits to your face, intense and twinkling — really thinking he was slick enough that you wouldn’t notice it. Then he’d let out a husky chuckle, his hand subtly palming his cock as he’d say, “Of course I am.”

You’d just roll your eyes and continue talking, oblivious to his arousal as he’d stare at your ass, your lips, your legs, his hungry eyes running up and down the length of your perfect body until he was so hard he physically couldn’t stand it.

But that was the norm for him.

For any other girl he had everything — the money, the power, the cars, the looks. He could’ve had literally any other girl he wanted yet he wanted you, yet he couldn’t have you.

You were so professional, always did your job perfectly and always did the right thing, the perfect assistant, the perfect employee, the perfect woman. Why, why, couldn’t you be one of those dumb slutty assistants who he didn’t give a damn about? The ones who didn’t bother to hide the fact that they were a slut, the ones who’d drop everything and suck his dick if he asked, even if he didn’t ask.

But no, you were you and you were so damn different from that and really, that made him want you even more. The fact that you weren’t a dumb girl but a mature woman, as flawless and elegant as rose petals and wine. He wanted you to break out of that persona, see your strong facade crack and crumble for him, for his love, for his cock.

He wanted to see that perfect red lipstick smeared over your tear stained cheeks, see that tight pussy gaping and wet and begging for him, see those lacy panties wrapped around your ankles as he’d fuck you hard and fast before a business meeting in just the way he knew you’d like, just hard enough so everyone could see the stumble in your walk and the tears in your eyes.

One day he was going to have that, one day. But for now he was just gonna have to stick with the lustful stares during crowded meetings and the not-so-innocent fantasies when you’d poke into his office.

One day he’d have you, one day… but for now he was satisfied with jerking his dick off in his office at the sweet smell of your lingering perfume. For now he was okay with imagining to throw you on his desk and fucking your brains out when you’d deliver his coffee in the mornings, his lunch in the afternoon, his dinner in the evenings… all the while staring at you from behind his computer with his dick so achingly hard he couldn’t focus on a damn thing.

All right, he wasn’t okay with it but what choice did he have? Bosses shouldn’t fuck their assistants, but damn, he couldn’t wait to break his own rule and see how easily he could make a good girl turn bad.

━━ WILL ‘IRONHEAD’ MILLER ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

LUMBERJACK! WILL ⊹₊˚

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 where you went. It was inevitable really; a pretty girl like you, wearing those pink skirts like you did, wearing those 6-inch heels like you did, wearing those tight tops like you did, in a town like this? It was really no wonder why you always got stared at.

It was just unfortunate that you were too dumb to notice that he was no better than the countless men that gawked at you, he was just better at hiding it.

You were the bosses daughter — dangerously beautiful and utterly unattainable (spoiled rotten too). You were a walking, talking Barbie in pink dresses and pretty purses; a pink, glittering ditzy princess who carelessly walked around the muddy work site in those cute heels of yours — William believed you were too beautiful to walk around in the filth.

You were the sweetest little thing he had ever met too — a butterfly in a battlefield — so giggly and cheery it drove him insane. The sound of your voice in his ears, your laugh, twinkling and sweet like sparkling water; he could only imagine how good you’d sound underneath him as he drove his cock into you nice and slow so you felt every vein, every ridge, every curve hitting that spot inside you that made you squeal.

Your father was a good man, had hired Will in a desperate time when he needed someone — something, constant. Ever since then Will had always been the best employee. He was the first hire and the only one to stay when things got tough. He put in the most hours, doing the most work, being the best lumberjack he could be for your father in repayment of his kindness. So for that reason Will had earned your father’s respect in more ways than one — for being patient, hardworking, loyal.

So sometimes Will would feel bad when he’d sneak into the bathroom after a rather short conversation with you; he’d slam the stall door closed and whip out his throbbing cock to relief some of the tension you had so dim wittingly caused.

He’d fuck his fist at the thought of you bent over the break room table he had left you at, cute mini skirt flipped up and giving him a perfect view of that pretty pussy he only prayed to see. He knew it was gorgeous, knew it’d be just as pretty as you, knew he’d be fucking addicted at the first taste.

Will was patient, level headed, a loyal worker who’d never betray your fathers trust… but he’d picture thrusting his thick fingers inside you slowly and carefully, smearing cum over your warm hole and feel your wetness drip down his palm as you begged him to go faster — a pretty pink mess all for him.

He'd imagine throwing your cute little ass against a tree and wrapping your smooth legs around his waist when he was supposed to be working, telling you to be a good girl for him as he'd grope your tits and hear your needy whimpers.

He’d hold you against him as he’d push his hard cock inside your tight little pussy once you begged him enough, listen to your gasps as he’d stretch you out in ways you’d never been stretched before. He'd be sure to cover your mouth with his calloused, work torn hands to muffle your screams, have you claw his chiseled back with those glossy pink nails of yours until he bled.

He’d make you cum around his cock as he whispered every filthy thing he could think of in your ear, hear you whine and whimper and leave bruises in the sweet spots only he got to see; your father would be down the hill confused on where the both of you had gone.

He’d squirt all over his hand and thighs once he was done, panting and hissing from the pleasure pulsing through his body. He knew you were right outside those doors too, right where he left you in the break room, sipping on an ice coffee — completely oblivious.

Will would take a long while to clean himself up after that, the guilt burrowing heavy in his tummy knowing your father’s office was right down the hall. He wouldn’t dare look in that direction, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to look your father in the eye for a good hour.

He’d walk out the bathroom as inconspicuously as possible and put his hands in his coat pockets, walk back into the break room like nothing had happened, like he didn’t want to fuck your brains out right then and there, and he’d lean against the door frame and give you the most charming, innocent smile you dotingly believed.

“Hey, darlin’.”

You’d look up from your phone startled, your tits spilling out of your pink top and the plushness of your thighs flared out on the bench. Your hair was shiny and glittery with cute hair clips on each side, your makeup done so prettily and perfectly he just wanted to ruin it. You looked so damn good Will couldn’t help but take a minute to admire you some more, his eyes running over you hotly, but too subtly for you to notice.

“Oh, hey, where did you go? You said 5 minutes…” You teasingly pouted up at him with those glossy, twinkling lips of yours like you weren’t making this hard enough as it was.

You’d giggle and smile at him — making his heart churn and dick stir. He’d be entranced by your tits jiggling as you did, covered in glittery perfume and smelling of vanilla and strawberries.

So fucking delicious.

Then you’d wrap those same lips around your pink straw and take another sip of your iced coffee.

God damn those lips of yours… Will would go in a daze at the image of you on your knees for him, your lipgloss smeared over your cheeks as you’d suck his swollen cock head into your mouth, patiently waiting for him to say you could take more. Sparkly pink lip stains marked over his dick and balls… it was his dream.

Will knew he was bigger than you too, in a lot of ways, was reminded of if every time you stood next to his hulking form in those cute heels of yours that still didn’t manage to reach him. He was a 6’0 mass of muscle and brawn, carved from brick and forged from stone and way too rough around the edges to handle a delicate thing like you — it’d be like putting a pretty flower petal in the brazen hands of a giant. He wasn’t sure he could have you and not ruin you.

But god damn he’d fucking try. He’d be so delicate and tender with you in ways he’s never been with another woman. He’d cherish every scar and blemish on your smooth skin and treat you like the princess you so clearly were. He’d kiss you from head to toe and lap at your pussy like a poor man worshipping a goddess — he’d be oh so lucky.

He was big, yes, but he promised he wouldn’t crush you. He was rough, yes, but even a pretty girl like you liked having a rough hand wrapped around her throat. You’d be a pretty pink angel wrapped in his gray cotton sheets, held between his mundane, trauma stained hands.

He was manly and burly, all flannel jackets and tree stained jeans and you were girly and feminine, all short skirts and glittering strawberry lipgloss. You two didn’t work in a conventional sense but nothing about his life or yours was conventional.

Your father was a good man and William was a good worker, the best employee, the best lumberjack. He was patient and so loyal, fully aware he was risking his livelihood by wanting you but yet he was left wanting anyway. You were too cute and bouncy and he needed you to bounce on his cock more than he needed a job.

He wanted to see you bare for him — bare in heart, mind, and soul because he knew there was more to you than meets the eye. There was more of you to discover beyond the pink masses and he wanted to be the one that discovered it, the one that you trusted enough to show it to. He wanted to see the real you bared to him in the middle of the night with the beautiful afterglow of what you two had just done shining on your skin — your most organic, happiest form.

“Ah, William, I see you’re keeping my girl company? I hope she’s not keeping you, she’s a chatterbox.” Your father laughed and smacked a hand on Will’s shoulder, suddenly popping up in the doorway like Will had conjured him with his guilt. A thud sounded from the smack and Will felt his shoulder sting, completely shaken out of his fantasy now.

He looked at your father and laughed that charming laugh — I want to fuck your daughter more than I need air to breath sir but no she’s not a problem at all.

━━ BENJAMIN ‘BENNY’ MILLER ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

BARTENDER! BENNY ⊹₊˚

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 it almost angered you. Every Saturday night the club was packed with women just hoping Benny the Bartender would look their way… it was pathetic, if you didn’t do the exact same thing.

It was routine for you, the only thing you really looked forward to in your long weeks of monotonous work and errands — Benny was new, exciting, and so fucking hot you blushed at just the mere thought of him.

He was so charming too, so good at his job by simply just existing you could see why the company had hired him. With just one dazzling smile the whole room swooned and came, even you, who so pathetically tried to act hard to get at the corner of the bar with your lonely margarita you only ever ordered — you needed to be somewhat tipsy to actually have the confidence to talk to him.

You’d wear your sexiest dresses, your cutest shoes, have your hair done pristinely and your makeup done perfectly all in hopes of Benny noticing you — you were almost ashamed that you valued his attention that much.

You’d sit by yourself, alone, at the end of the bar staring at him while he worked, staring at his face and body and just picturing him fucking you on this very bar with his snapback still on his head, his hands gripping your thighs, your hips, your tits, anywhere his greedy hands could leave their mark on.

He’d wear baseball tees and black t-shirts that clung perfectly to his abs and muscles — you even heard a rumor that he was in an underground fighting ring that gave him all those muscles and scars in the first place. The thought aroused you incredibly and you couldn’t stop from fluttering your eyes at him more than usual that night.

He seldom never wore his snapback, and while you loved seeing his full face you couldn’t deny how much you loved the nights when he left his hat at home more.

He’d have his dirty blonde hair slicked back out of his face but yet there was always that one rebelling strand that fell over his eyes when he was working… it drove you insane. And the way he’d run his fingers through his hair when he was in the middle of a busy service, the way your own hands could pull it when he was laid between your legs, nibbling on your thighs and bringing you to such an ecstasy you’ve never experienced.

He was such a natural flirt too, professional to a limit when it came to all the women fawning over him over the bar, their tits falling out of their dresses and their lips over lined with lipstick. He’d laugh that boisterous laugh of his, take shots with them like he wasn’t on the clock, and he’d charm the panties right off them and the money right out of their purses by the time he was done.

You couldn’t say you weren’t jealous.

Benny, on the other hand, was all too aware of the pretty girl at the end of the bar who never seemed to bring anyone but her credit card. He was all too aware of her pretty eyes and pretty lips and perfect set of tits in those skimpy dresses she’d always wear.

And honestly, since the first night he saw you he’s wanted you.

He’d flirt with you all the time in that southern accent of his that charmed all the ladies, but you never seemed to register it, or in other words, you never seemed to care.

You were nothing like the women he dealt with every night — you would roll your eyes when he’d tell you how happy he was to see you again, purse your lips when he complimented your makeup, and seem totally disinterested in him and whatever nonsense he had to say.

And he fucking loved it.

You didn’t fawn over him like the others girls did, you didn’t seem to buy into the whole charming bartender shtick he portrayed either. You were quiet and beautiful and sharp; you never seemed too desperate or eager for him like everyone else. Sure, he loved the attention from other women, he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t, but the fact that he never seemed to have yours made him want you even more.

He’d flirt with you whenever he got the chance to, knew your drink of choice by heart now and was always there to fill it back up when it was empty. He was attentive to your needs and he swore he could be just as attentive in other settings if you gave him the chance.

You’d just sit there in the shadows, skin flashing blue and black from the lights of the club and looking so damn fine Benny wished he could drag you into the bathroom and fuck your brains out on the door, feel the music pumping through your veins as you stuck your tongue in his mouth until all he tasted was you and liqueur.

It’d be fast and hot and he wouldn’t be able to breath in anything but you and margarita salt but it sounded perfect. His big hand wrapped around your throat as people knocked on the door like you two weren’t busy. He’d try to muffle your moans for your sake but he’d also decide he liked hearing them more. It’d be cramped and intimate and it would certainly leave him breathless but god damn that sounded like just what he needed right now.

He’d be drunk on you, the taste of you, the smell of you, the feel of you wrapped around him so tight — the mysterious girl he could never seem to break through to no matter how many times he tried. Sometimes, Benny even felt like giving up — you clearly didn’t want him like he wanted you.

But then, at some point during the night when you were two margaritas in and your eyes were starting to get hazy, he’d look over at you and you’d be giving him the hottest, most seductive look he’s ever seen. It makes his heart pound and skin prickle, his cock ache for something.

It was the kind of look where your eyelashes would flutter and you’d stare up at him with a delectable little smirk on your face, a look that screamed take me now, take me on this bar and show everyone what you’re capable of, show these other bitches you only want me.

And he fucking wished he could. It was that look that kept him going, that look that gave him hope.

And you wanted him to do just that. To leave bruises on your skin and taint your body with himself, to leave his mark on your pussy and soul and be so deep inside you you weren’t sure where his body began and your pleasure ended, just that you needed more, more, more of it.

But Benny assumed that was the game you two liked to play — to show up every Saturday night with the expectation that one of you was going to finally make a move on the other. To see who would crack first, give in to the temptation the both of you so clearly desired but neither were confident enough to admit.

Benny, the sexy bartender obsessed with the mysterious girl who barely gave him the time of day.

You, the girl at the end of the bar wishing Benny would just take the initiative and fuck her already.

And to think, Benny did want you, wanted you so fucking badly, only you. You’re the one that he even bothered to show off for anyway; flipping bottles, being quick on his feet, being better than anyone else cause he knew you were the one watching.

He made a soulful promise to both you and him that one of these nights you’re gonna give him that damned look one more time and he’s not gonna have a choice but to prove to you why you shouldn’t start things you don’t intend to finish.

━━ FRANK ‘CATFISH’ MORALES ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

STEP DAD! FRANK ⊹₊˚

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝐇𝐞’𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 for a good year and a half before he met you, the young and beautiful daughter of the woman he supposedly loved.

You were grown, well, grown enough; a beautiful woman with dreams and ambitions, goals for her life that he couldn’t help but admire. But you also had this delectable snark you certainly didn’t get from your mother, an attitude that made anything remotely good about you pale in comparison — it drove him mad.

He hated to act like a father to you because he wasn’t your father — you were in your 20s anyway, it was too late for him to be anything other than Frank. He was just an older man in your life set to wed your mother, yet he really only had eyes for you, his beautiful step daughter he certainly shouldn’t be fantasizing about when he was fucking your mother.

You were bratty and mean, always rolled your eyes at him and walked off right in the middle of him talking to you; you wore those short shorts he despised (loved more than he should have) and those dresses that clung just a little too tight to your body for his liking. You were disobedient and rude, but so fucking sexy he was left torn between his desires and morals.

You never cared what he had to say about anything, never bothered to listen to his rules, and never bothered to wear some god damn house appropriate shorts that didn’t shove your round ass into his face every time he walked past you.

He imagined bending you over his knee and pulling your shorts off you, gently sliding your pink panties down your thighs, then spanking your ass, hard, like the disobedient brat you were until his handprints were etched into your skin, until you were sniffling and moaning for him to stop, until you had finally learned some respect.

He wondered if you’d get wet from that simple act alone: maybe your childish attitude was all a front, an act, to really piss him off to his limits and see how far you could push him until he broke. Maybe you wanted to be punished by him, be spanked raw, be fucked hard, until tears were streaming in your pretty little eyes and you were sobbing your apologizes to him instead of running your mouth.

As a matter of fact he should do just that; with all the times you’d “accidentally” leave the door open when you were showering and your mother had gone shopping, just you and Frank and the sizzling tension between you left to fend for itself. He was a gentleman at heart but no man could deny the allure of such a pretty body like yours covered in water.

He should shove your face into his pillow and fuck you from behind so you didn’t have to see his face like he knew you’d want to. He’d hold your hands behind your back and pound you until you cried for him to stop, to go faster, that it hurts, but you fucking wanted more.

You’d probably be a squirter too, all mean girls like you were when they got stripped down to the bare parts of themselves, where they couldn’t hide behind their own insolence and were touched by the experienced hands of an older man.

Frank was a patient man, a very patient man. It took a lot to drive him over the edge but yet you always seemed to know just what to say and just what to do to really push his buttons.

Your bedroom door wide open as you changed out of your bra, your perky tits all smooth and round for him to ogle at through the hallway, your music blasting through the whole house when he was trying to get some god damn sleep, bringing over your stupid little boyfriends into his house and letting them fuck you under his roof — it was all reason enough for him to punish you.

And no, Frank wasn’t jealous. He was a grown man, what did he have to be jealous about? He wasn’t jealous when he’d hear your moans sound through the whole house, the headboard banging on the wall, the giggles you’d try to hide as you’d walk them out the door. It was pathetic. Those boys could never fuck you like he could and he knew it. He was not jealous.

You were a bad girl, a naughty girl, and he didn’t like pretty little girls who thought they knew better than him.

You never showed him any gratitude, or appreciation for taking you and your mother in when he didn’t have to, you never thanked him when he made you a hot meal, and you never listened when he’d say put gas back in my car if you use it.

He basically let you do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. There was no structure, no rhyme or reason to anything you did and he’d be damned if he was going to let a spoiled brat like you make his life any harder than it needed to be.

Your mother was an angel, all kisses and kind words and that’s why he loved her in the first place. He had plans to marry her and live a great life with her. Even when she mentioned a daughter Frank didn’t worry, he imagined an adorable little toddler with big doe eyes and a kind heart just like her mother. But then he met you, and you were no kid, and you were certainly no fucking angel.

You were a soul sucking succubus sent from the depths of hell to tempt him, to make him fail yet another marriage. You were young and he knew it was wrong to despise you yet simultaneously want you so fucking badly. He wanted you out of his house, but he also wanted you on your knees and gagging around his cock. He wanted you to shut up for once, but he also wanted you to scream his name until the neighbors knew it.

It was certainly complicated and contradicting, and with his wedding on the way he really didn’t need anything going wrong. But, he figured, if he married your mother at least he would always be around to keep you in line, right?

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xreaderbooks · 1 year

Text

Paradise on Earth (17)

Chapter: 17. The Bonfire

Pair: JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Language, Underage drinking, Violence and Jealousy

Summary: Pope receives new information, and the annual bonfire is a bowl of drama.

a/n: not fully proofread and a day later than promised but here it is...

Available on Wattpad and AO3

Chapter 16 - Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 18

Nobody knew what to do after the explosion, it was like time had stilled, it was like a bomb went off with you and your friends hiding behind the trenches. Sarah’s wailing and sobbing, the radios police officers had carried on them had picked up on frequencies from other cops in the area. Shoupe had responded, informing them of what had just occurred then ushering you, your brother, Pope, JJ, and Kie, off the dock.

Sarah was allowed to stay, being as this was her property, her father’s property and he was dead. She stayed in Topper's arms, teary-eyed as she watched John B walk away without a word in her direction.

What could he say? What could any of you say?

I’m sorry? For her loss, probably. But none of you would truly mean it, Ward Cameron was better off dead.

None of you wanted to leave Sarah in her home alone with her brother who had attempted to murder her not 24 hours ago, but nobody dared to convince her to go with you all.

The weekend would end and you would all have to be back in school tomorrow, spending the last day fishing by the dock and contemplating the meaning of life after what you had just witnessed.

Day turned into night, JJ and Kie went to buy beer while you, Pope, and John B, lay on the HMS Pogue. The three of you stared up into the night sky in reflection. Your brother had just confessed to him and Sarah breaking up.

“I don’t get it,” John B voices after minutes of silence, “I don’t.”

“Love is five minutes of pleasure for a lifetime of pain.”

You snap your fingers at Pope’s poetic words, “Jesus if you wrote a book about heartbreak, I’d the shit out of it… Did it really only last five minutes though?”

You tried to lighten the mood a little, though clearly, those weren’t the vibes the two heartbroken boys were on. Lowkey, neither were you, but showing it would just open a can of worms (questions) that you weren’t ready to deal with.

Pope turns his head to his left, where you lay in between him and John B, “What is wrong with you?”

“What’s going on with you and Kie?” You quip, sitting up and crossing your legs with your knees outwards. You technically already knew what Kie had told you, but you wanted to hear his thoughts.

“Well, she just wants to be friends.”

“Oh, death blow,” John B exhales. “I’m sorry, man.”

“I-I didn’t even see it coming,” Pope lifted and let his hands fall onto his stomach.

You pursed your lips, not knowing what to say. Thankfully, you didn’t because the duo that left had just come back, tossing beer your way. You almost didn’t catch yours, JJ threw it at you swiftly, and you glared at him to which he ignored you.

“What are you guys doing down here?” He asked. “Having a good cry?”

“Cry?” John B and Pope ask each other, “What are you talking about? We don’t cry.”

You were about to, seeing Kie wearing JJ’s sweater, the size overwhelming her frame. You popped open the can and sipped on it.

“You know it’s not your fault right?” She asks JB with a smile.

“You think she’ll come back?”

“She’s one of us,” She inhales smoke from a joint, no doubt she and JJ already started smoking.

He smiles to himself, “Sarah’s a pogue.”

~~~

“Y/n!”

A loud feminine voice yelled in your ear, you jolted awake, your hand swinging to hit whoever disturbed you.

“Woah, chill,” She steps back.

“What the fuck, Kiara,” You mumble into your pillow once you saw it was her.

“It’s Monday, we have school.”

You wanted to die, quickly and right now, in your sleep preferably. Your bed had never felt more comfortable, you felt like you had just closed your eyes and here this bitch was waking you from your slumber.

You physically could not open your eyes, they felt permanently shut. You felt yourself drift…

“Y/n!”

“Oh my god!” You cried out, “Okay, okay, I swear if John B and Jayj, aren’t getting the same treatment I’m suing.”

You rubbed your eyes, feeling your eyesight get better, you needed to wash your face. You changed into jeans and a grey cotton long-sleeve, the autumn air coming in, allowing you to wear your cozy clothing without dying of heatstroke.

You wobble your way to the bathroom about to open the door when it opens for you, your eyes widen before you as a familiar blond (who you still weren’t talking to) appears before you, you both switch places and you shut the door. You quickly freshened up and went back to your room, snatching up your bookbag from the floor.

“We have a geometry test in 30 minutes,” Pope informs John B, dragging him along and pulling JJ by his collar into the Twinkie.

You stayed behind, catching a ride with Kie, the both of you didn’t have a test in the morning and decided you can be late to first period and homeroom to buy some groceries.

Kie insisted she pays, she saw how empty the fridge was before she woke you up and wanted to do something about it.

“You seriously don’t have to do that,” You protest as she pulls out a credit card.

She gives you a look, “I can’t just let you guys starve, now c’mon let’s drop this off before we’re even more late.”

~~~

After school, with a full fridge, you eat a bowl of fruit you picked out at the store as Pope explains how Mr. Sunn pulled them into his classroom and gave them Denmark Tanny’s diary.

“August 15th set sail from Port-au-prince on calm seas.” Pope Reads, “Came upon the Spanish ship San Jose on fire, the entire deck was aflame and we could hear the screams of men trapped below. The Spanish Captain cared about only one thing; his valuable cargo, the Cross of Santo Domingo, and countless bars of gold.”

“Once the cargo was on board we went to help the crew but Captain Limberey ordered us to pull bayonets and not to let any of the Spanish crew on board. He robbed them and left them to die.”

“So it didn’t go down off Bermuda,” JJ confirmed.

“And it was a Limberey, stealing shit again,” Kie scoffed.

Pope nods, “This diary proves that both the gold and the Cross of Santo Domingo were on the Royal Merchant.”

“Why didn’t we find it in the well then?” JJ asked. “If Denmark was able to get this bedazzled cross off of the Merchant to shore, why didn’t he just hide it with the gold?”

“Because it was too big,” You piece his question together. “He had to hide it someplace else, obviously.”

“But where?” John B questions.

“Right before he was hung, Denmark said he’d buried the treasure at the foot of the angel,” Pope explains.

“I thought this was about the key,” JJ looks confused.

“Right, so what’s the connection?” Kie observes.

Pope repeats the line, “‘The path to the tomb begins in the island room.’”

“But what is the island room?” She rolls her eyes.

“You know what helps me figure shit out?” JJ hops up from his place on the couch on the porch, you hold your breath for what he was about to say, knowing it could be potentially catastrophic. “Smoking beers and drinking weed, the ideas just pour out of me.”

“I don’t think we need another one of your ideas,” You look up at him from your seat.

“Not like yours are any better,” He snaps back and continues his statement. “If we just sit here and try to figure this out, we’re gonna get nowhere, but if we get creative and go to this bonfire tonight… maybe we’ll get somewhere.”

“Or, just a perfect excuse to party,” You slump in your seat.

“Well, I just got disowned by my parents and I’m an official member of the I-have-nothing-to-lose club,” Kie pipes in, meaning she’s in.

“Pope?” JJ looks to him hopefully.

He sighs, “We’re so close.”

JJ kneels down in front of Pope, “Think about how much you could think if you just gave your brain a rest.”

John B, JJ, and Kie give him looks of encouragement, you didn’t even bother, still bitter at JJ, though you were down for a party you weren’t gonna tell him that.

Pope ends up conceding, the others bursting into cheers as they make plans to pre-game. You and your friends all take shots of some cheap vodka from a corner store that you all knew didn’t ID before heading to the bonfire.

~~~

Every year it was set in a small old abandoned amphitheater-like place, dozens of teens from all parts of the island, gathered here for a beginning of the year rager. Kind of like a last hurrah, though the last hurrah would have technically been the last one, point is- people went wild. In a good way.

Pope and Kie were in conversation, hopping out of the Twinkie, not looking back twice, you stayed with JJ and John B, thinking you and John B would at least stick together.

Of course, you were wrong, one of John B’s old hookups had been desperately begging for his attention, not even bothering to try to hide her obviousness.

JJ gave you one look before heading in another direction with a beer he was shotgunning.

You took a breath, letting the annoyance roll off you as you went in search of a drink, JJ would find a whore to fuck as John B would, Pope and Kie will go socialize and you would drink to drink yourself numb.

You bumped into a broad shoulder when trying to weave your way through people, you meant to apologize and move on but the guy who looked over his shoulder to see who had disrupted his conversation was cute. Really cute, forget about JJ for a whole night, cute.

You replaced the frown with a sheepish smile and softened your eyes to look at the boy through your lashes, “Sorry.”

“No harm done,” He turned his full attention to you. “What’s your name, Gorgeous?” His features made you want to say, ‘Whatever you want it to be’ but you held off.

“Y/n, nice to meet you…”

“James,” He hit you with a flirtatious smirk. ‘Another one whose name starts with J’ You willed away the urge your roll your eyes. The guy had dimples, and light brown eyes that weren’t usually your type but it complimented him well.

You spent a good 45 minutes talking to him, he made the conversation flow and was easy to talk to, you were surprised you hadn’t seen him around or heard about him but then again he was very much the ‘boy-next-door’ type.

He flirted like he was into you but it teetered the line of him just being a really nice dude. It frustrated you since you just wanted a good make out, have it lead to something else maybe, but you didn’t want to push and he wasn’t offering.

“I was thinking maybe a weekend when you’re not so busy with school, we could hang out?” He looked at you hopefully.

“I-”

“She can’t,” You felt the weight of JJ’s arm sling around your shoulder, pulling you into him as if you were naturally a part of him. You wriggled underneath him to get out of his hold but he didn’t budge, only pulling you tighter.

“Oh,” James' face faltered a little before brightening up again, “No worries then. It was nice talking to you, Y/n.”

It was over. He was too nice of a guy to argue with JJ who was close enough to indicate that there was something between you, even though that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Wait- James!” You groaned and hid your face in your hands feeling aggravated at the blond who had immediately slid his arm off your shoulders the minute the brunet was gone. You were in mourning for the sweet boy you had hoped to get to know more. “I hate you.”

“I send away one hopeless guy, and I get knocked down your list of favorite people?” JJ repeats the words you told him the other day before the big argument.

“No, you've been acting like the world’s biggest dick, that’s how you get knocked down my list.” You bump your shoulder against him as you shove past him and he walks after you. “Leave me alone.”

“No,” He persists.

“JJ, I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“That’s fine because I wanna talk to you.”

You falter in my steps and my eyes narrow in thought, wondering what the hell was up with him and his quick change of emotions.

“I didn’t like you talking to that guy-”

“So what, you were jealous?” The nerve of this guy, “Was that what that was?”

He hesitates, “Y/n, I’m just trying to look after you.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me, JJ, Jesus!” My voice raises, “I don’t need you!”

“You almost died the other day, and I wasn’t there.”

“That’s not your fault as much as it wasn’t mine, but if you want to hide your feelings behind some bullshit, go ahead but don’t use me as an excuse. You can be Kiara’s knight in shining armor but not mine.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

You felt the sting of tears hit the back of your eyes, this was not how tonight was supposed to go, “You and Kie. There is something there and while that’s still going on, you are not allowed to feel upset or jealous when I talk to a guy at a fucking party.”

“Y/n-”

Shouts were coming from the pit, people rushed towards the scene and you heard Sarah’s voice call out John B’s name. You sighed and looked at JJ who was already running into the mess of people.

Can there never be just one day, you glare into the dark sky. You had the keys of the Twinkie on you, John B mistakenly tossing them to you when you were all walking to the party.

You didn’t feel like dealing with whatever was going on, so while everyone was watching what you guessed was another fight, you took a therapeutic walk to the van. You started up the engine and crossed your legs on the dash of the passenger seat.

Your friends soon joined you, Kie went into the driver’s seat next to you, John B held a beer can up to his forehead on the seat behind you, Pope was across from him and JJ just walked up to the open side door.

“Well that was unexpected,” He crushes an empty can.

Kie turns her head to him with furrowed brows, “Was it?”

~~~

It was silent around the fire at the Chateau. You all took in the night, not knowing what else to do. What was supposed to be a distraction to help you all regain mental energy, just turned out to be more chaos that needed to be quieted.

With all that happened at the party, you sat the furthest away from JJ on the other end of where he was sitting, you tiredly leaned your head on John B’s shoulder, with your marshmallow on the end of a stick, melting in the fire.

That was until he started sporadically moving trying to get a bite of Kie’s s’more and your marshmallow fell into the pit. You pursed your lips, this night couldn’t get any worse.

“I have never hated you more,” You tell John B who left his seat and crouched on the other side of you for something.

“I’m stealing your marshmallow,” Kie warned Pope who protested.

“Hand me one, please?” You reach out to grab another marshmallow she stole.

John B tapped your back and told you all to shush, “Soembody’s here.”

“You don’t think Topper would…” Kie sets her stick down. “Do you have your gun?”

The five of your turn toward the rustling coming from the trees.

“Oh, now she wants the gun,” JJ’s tone accusatory as he recalls all the times Kiara scolded JJ for having the gun.

“Oh, now you don’t have the gun?”

John B calls out to the person in the trees, and lo and behold, it’s Limberey’s manservant- Renfield.

“You have got to be kidding me,” You whisper to yourself, thinking back on how you thought the night couldn’t get any worse.

The man comes out of hiding with his hands up in surrender, “Lovely evening we’re having.”

It definitely was not a lovely evening, especially not with him here, you all knew what he was here for. John B had tricked him and his boss into thinking they had the right key, Pope’s family’s key.

“Look, I don’t hold judges with any of y’all, alright?” He stops a couple of feet away from the group. “But this can go hard, or this can go easy, you know what I’m here for. Let me give you a little demonstration, you see that swing?”

He points to the swing you used to sit on in your childhood, JJ or John B would push you on it, sometimes pushing so far you would fly off.

“I got the best bow hunters in the Army Rangers with me,” He whistles sharply and an arrow comes flying through barely passing JJ’s nose and hitting the carved tree. “Now, they're out there, they’ll stick you just as soon as I say so.”

JJ moves to swing at Renfield with a long rusty piece of metal but he all too soon whistles and another arrow lands directly next to JJ’s foot.

The realization hits everyone at the same time it seems, you look at Pope sympathetically, these guys he brought with him were clearly good. If any of you had any tricks, one of you would get shot.

“I’m not gonna give you a countdown or any bullshit like that, I’m just gonna whistle.” He stood in front of Pope, tension was heavy as he held eye contact with Pope.

Your friend looked pained as he dug into the pocket of his shorts and brought out the key with the red string, “This key belongs to my family.”

“I’m losing patience with you, Pope,” Renfield brings his fingers to his lips as a threat.

Slowly, Pope hands it to the man.

“You did the right thing kid, knowing when you don't have a choice is an underappreciated talent,” he waves the key in front of Pope. “You be safe.”

You felt like you could finally breathe with him several paces away from you all now, but Pope looked like he was about to cry and you went after him as he stormed off.

~~~

Chapter 18

Taglist:

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venuslcver · 5 days

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HIGH BY THE BEACH ⋆

pairing: boyfriend!pope x carefreekook!reader

synopsis: your boyfriend, pope, and you had been together for a while when he changes his mind about not going to college.

tw: fluff, implied sex, profanity (no use of y/n)

any type of interaction including likes, comments, and reblogs is appreciated! but ultimately not necessary. let me know if im missing any warnings!

“ok, baby! which one should i wear? this one or thissss one?” you questioned pope, holding two of your swimsuits in a display manner. one was a lilac-colored string bikini, the other being a cheeky, polka-dot one-piece.

you could never make a final decision for the life of you, only leaving it up to pope for his opinion. though, pope had known you long enough to know, whichever item you tend to show last was the option you had in mind. hell — most of the time you don’t even know that you prefer one option more than the others.

you wanted to wear the left one, pope concluded. no matter if it was clothing, makeup, nail color, or decor-related. not actually having input into the choices, he usually would just coax the answer out of you. it made it easier on him, besides he didn't give a fuck what you wore, because well... he would still find you beautiful dressed as the grinch. which you did a couple halloweens previously.

“uh… i don’t know — which one is more comfortable?” he asked, putting you on the spot, hoping to get an honest answer out of you.

clicking your tongue to the roof of your mouth in deep thought — lifting each and inspecting it. trying to remember if it was uncomfortable or not the last time you wore it.

“well i… mean. huh. why is this so hard?” you said truly debating both options. making your final answer, “i would probably go with the right one being more comfortable”

“probably… and i’m just sayin’ this as a thought…maybe it’s hard because you have too many swimsuits”

letting out an obnoxiously high-pitched scoff, you halted your attention from the bathing suit debacle to pope, who was leisurely laid back on your rope hammock swing that you had in your room. you never took kindly to anyone, including pope, criticizing your inability to get rid of things, especially your bathing suits.

“firstly, i don’t have too many swimsuits, and one could never have too many of them. secondly, even if i did — how could that possibly affect my ability to pick a swimsuit?”

awkwardly looking at you, pope reluctantly replied, “you can’t keep up with all of them, making you not even remember the last time you wore them… and the last time you chose the right one, you were complain’n the entire time”

ignoring his truthful statement altogether, you thought for a moment. he was right. the previous time, you ended up bitch’n the whole time about having to hold the straps of the one piece to avoid flashing innocent bystanders on the beach. which was the worst, considering the excitement that you experienced when in the water. flailing around without a care in the world.

a light switched when you came to this realization, noticing that you were rather harsh with your poor boyfriend, who did not deserve that in the slightest.

“oh my god! you are right!”, you said squealing, right into hugging pope’s sitting body.

taking his face into your hands, before hugging him again, “i’m so sorry baby! you know i didn’t mean that, right?”

staying firm in the hug, while he pulled himself out of the hammock, “yeah, yeah i know you didn’t mean it.”, pope said brushing your rudeness off. you and him rarely argued, and if you did, you were talking within the next half hour, easily.

looking up at him with doe eyes, and an innocent cast appearing on your profile. an all-knowing look that pope was very familiar with. one of the ways that pope and you were able to get over any kind of tiff was by admitting to being wrong and taking the proper steps to apologize.

for example, this one time pope got all panicked at the future and started freaking the fuck out. which led him to harboring that he was in the wrong and mishandled the situation at hand. before slipping his hand into you. well... two fingers but either way! pope was giving in that way, regularly lending a helping hand to you when in need. it wasn't an obligation as much as a want. you and pope were alike in that way. always willing to put others first.

"c-can i make it up to you?"

sooner than later making it to the intended place of hanging out, the local beach on the outer banks. looking into the surrounding area in your eyesight, the beach was practically empty. a lot of spring-breakers had vacated the week before. having access to almost a completely bare beach.

you helped pope set up on the beach, before laying horizontally on his vertically propped-up body.

pressing a kiss on the crown of your head, that was in his lap. when he did the leaning down motion, you pushed the pineapple in your hand, to his lips. silently urging him to take a bite. to which he did.

immediately snickering when it ran down his face, halting laughter when it dripped onto yours. lucky that the acidic fruit juices didn't collect in your eyes. either way, pope was quick to wipe it off your face.

oftentimes, pope and you were silent when hanging out. you wouldn't per say it was a con, because it was due to being around each other every second, when not at work. though, when pope's dad, heyward, was short-staffed, you would offer a lending hand. taking a couple shifts, with pope. even, visiting each other at work.

along with packing an array of fruits to snack on, you also brought a weed. one of the conversations you had meant to bring up was the future.

pope was wicked smart, at least, school-wise. his choice of friends was questionable. and as much as you love your shared friends— they tend to be dumbasses. pulling pope down to their level. to which, a couple foul decisions led pope to not attend college— as he previously intended.

one late night, he admitted that he felt like "all the work he put in was sliding down the drain". which riddled you with resentment towards your friends. not that you cared what pope did. only that he was happy— which he wasn't at all for a passing time.

"pope? can i ask you something?"

"yeah— what's up?"

"d-do you have any idea what you want?"

"what i want?", pope asked, not understanding the question at hand.

"want for the future?"

looking at you bewildered, pope had no idea where the loaded question came from.

"uh — besides being with you, i have no clue.", a tinge of sadness rolled off his tongue.

grinning at his, rather, romantic proclamation, "o-ok, well, um i was expecting a little bit more of an answer, b-but that works for me"

"i-i'm worried... like really worried", he admitted.

coming off your high, out of your own fantasy land— that was induced by his heartfelt statement, "why?!"

still supporting his weight with one arm, he took the other and rubbed his face, "why shouldn't i be? i-i mean i was going to go to college, b-but now I'm just working at my dad's restaurant"

pope tended to self-destruct when his fears kicked in, sending him into overdrive. sitting up, looking at him directly in the face, "h-hey don't say that! one, you know that your dad would not keep you unless you were working your ass off! you're like the smartest person i know, out of anyone in outer banks, or hell, anywhere! a-and we'll figure it out."

set on helping understand that he and you would be good, you pulled a small baggie out of your beach bag, "ok?"

"o-okay"

"now, let's get high. and forget about everything, ever."

although he wasn't completely sure, he knew that you would stay by him, meaning he would be completely fine. if the world ended that day, he wouldn't have cared as long as he had you. well, and he would prefer if he had the other pogues and his parents.

#pope heyward #obx #outer banks #pope obx #pope hayward x reader #pope x reader #pope heyward prompt #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward fanfiction #pope heyward smut #pope heyward x y/n #⋆ pope heyward fic ⋆#boyfriend!pope

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