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stvolanis · 1 month

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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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belovedvenom · 21 days

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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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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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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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somethingswift19 · 2 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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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 · 11 months

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:

@jbassettjmaybank - @deanwherescas - @thtbwltts - @nerdypartytrashpsychic - @random-girl-army - @wisegirlies - @instabull - @sexyfoxlady - @bubs-world - @sdawn03 - @mendesclines - @obx-pogues-4-life - @mentalforfics - @p-prettybitch - @namacissi - @dczedhee - @inkandpen22 - @royalavenger - @ayeitsjustmee - @80strashbag - @onlyangel-444 - @freds-slut - @poppet05 - @itsjuststaticnoises - @ahnneyong - @lovepizza567 - @jasminfelling - @rana03 - @loki-loveer - @rana030 - @lostinatimeline - @boldlypessimistic - @clinelyn - @a-j-stuffs - @yunhobug - @syd223sworld - @strawberry--fawn

(if your name is crossed that means tumblr won't let me tag you)

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becasworldsstuff · 5 months

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THE POGUES`S FAVORITE GIRL

Her window was never locked and the light on her porch never turned off, her father knew damn well that their house had practically became the pogue`s but he did not entirely mind. Sure, his daughter`s friends weren`t so responsible but she was the best girl anyone, who had the pleasure to talk to her, could meet and with friends like that she was surely the most protected girl in the whole OBX.

The pogues rarely missed a bonfire so whoever went always knew that they will be there, and the best way to find them was searching for their princess, other also call her their queen bee, but truly anyone who was in search of one of them could find em in front, in the back or simply at her side. Since she is one of the most beautiful girl in the whole island and that is secret to no one, her relationship with the pogues members is purely platonic for what's known, but who had tried to talk to her never seemed to be enough interesting for her standards, which is plausible with that many people around her setting the bar so high.

Her laugh music to anyone near her and her smile brightened up anyone day`s but it was not enough, and when the whole entire world seemed to swallow her body when her only thought were her best friends who sided with her on everything, with whom she lived the craziest adventures and sleepless nights.

They had all been talking in front of the fire for a big part of the night, and while the others were fully awake, the tiredness behind her eyes was evident, and so, while her eyes began to close every single one of the pogues watched her in awe and looking at each other, they could clearly understand that having her in the group was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to all of them.

" I think she really is the glue between us, you know? I mean she is all for the safety of the planet" said Kiara " and she is the only girl I can bring myself to tolerate, but not only that, she has this infinite patience that keeps us from exploding and doing stupid things, but I don't think we give her enough credits"

" I think so too and her being a ray of sunshine always helped me" John B said " even my dad adored her, as all parents do, how couldn't you? It's impossible"

They all raised their plastic cups " cheer" "to sunshine?" "To sunshine!" They said whispering to not wake her up.

#john b x reader #kiara x reader #jj fluff #obx fanfiction #platonic!reader #pogues x reader #pope x reader #sarah x reader #pogue!reader

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iaintlithuanian · 1 year

Text

Obx: they find out you sh

WARNINGS: sh, angst, descriptions of blood.

My requests are open! Feel free to ask for anything!

Master list

————————————————

JJ Maybank:

JJ found out after he walked in on you changing and saw your scars and fresh cuts. At first he freaked out and was pissed at himself for not realising how you had been feeling. You assured him that nothing was his fault and that you was having a hard time with your mental state. He sat down with you and you both discussed it. He was generally quite calm afterwards and helped you get clean.

John B Routledge:

He found out after you accidentally forgot to lock the bathroom door when you were in the midst of an anxiety attack and felt the tempting urge of the blade rolling over your skin. He had heard you crying and opened the door to check of you and his eyes widened in shock when he saw the blood dripping from your arms. He quickly took the blade off of you and grabbed the first aid kit, he began to treat your wounds whilst you cried and apologised continuously. When he was done helping you he brought you to his bedroom and cuddled you telling you that it wasn’t your fault and that he would help you through it.

Pope Heyward:

You had come to Pope when things started getting bad and you started to cut again, you had told him about how you used to and he was very supportive. So when you told him that you had spiralled again, he looked up a bunch of techniques that could help you cope with your urges and made sure that you were ok everyday so that you wouldn’t have a need to even think about cutting again.

Rafe cameron:

He was high on coke when he found out. He tried to pull off your long sleeve top whilst you both made out and when you tried to get him to stop he got curious and confused so he pulled it off and noticed the cuts on your arms and stomach. He got pissed at you at first and left the room. When the coke wore off after an hour and a half he came back and apologised promising to help you through whatever you was going through.

Kiara carrera:

You had told her upfront knowing that she would understand. Which she did, and made sure to support and help you like the wonderful girlfriend she is.

Sarah Cameron:

When her mum left Sarah had gone through depression and self harm, so when she found out she know exactly what to do in order to help you and payed for you to see a therapist.

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a-aexotic · 1 year

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POPE HEYWARD THE LOML!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hes so pretty and so nice and so wow

ANYWAYS

could u pls do something rlly mushy and cute like falling alseep together 😻😻😻

im mentally ill but we 🆙

anyways

kiss love🙏🙏 thank you

pairing. pope heyward x fem!reader requested? yes no

warnings. mentions of insomnia. thats it. it's the sweetest fic, im melting rn.

summary. when reader can't sleep, pope lulls her back to sleep.

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

Tonight had been especially hard for you. Your insomnia was on a high and you couldn't sleep even though you were tired. It was the worst feeling because you knew you had an early morning but you still couldn't manage to sleep.

You were twisting and turning, trying to find a comfortable spot to sleep. You were getting frustrated before you felt Pope turn to the side to face you. He knew your insomnia was on an all time high this week because you kept waking him up.

"Can't sleep?" Pope mumbled. You turned to face him as well, a frown playing on your lips. You felt guility because Pope also had an early morning and you kept waking him up.

"Yeah." You sighed as you closed your eyes. "Sorry, Pope. I know you're-"

"Shh don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong." He turned on his back and then grabbed your hand. "Come sleep on my chest, doesn't that always help?"

Pope had noticed it the first night you were having sleep problems. After hours of turning, trying to sleep, Pope had cuddled up to his chest and that was the first time you had slept well that entire week.

You smiled lightly as you moved your body on his chest, laying on it. You both sat in comfortable silence, your body calming down at the sound of his heartbeat and breathing.

Your body had relaxed and you felt yourself dozing off. "I love you, Pope."

"I love you, too."

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dulc3vida · 1 month

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lamb!reader

The daughter of a preacher and a doctor who have strict plans for her future (and also voted for Trump even though they’re Latino). Lamb doesn’t agree with those plans or her parents politics, but she knows better than to outright disobey and lose all the privileges she has. So instead, she plays the dutiful daughter. She goes to church and volunteers and tutors so that her parents don't interrogate her every time she goes out. Lots of religious trauma and guilt which is why she pairs well with Pope! He is so caring and understanding of how she feels whenever she does something “wrong”. He reassures her and eases her anxiety when she gets involved with something morally grey (i.e. like lying or stealing to help any of their causes).

“You’re good. I promise, you’re better than everyone I know. This doesn’t change that.” He comforts her after the first time she smokes weed and she's high as hell gripping her rosary and mumbling prayers.

Pope also has the patience and strength to deal with her in the moments where she doesn’t care, because after a while of hanging out with the pogues, she stops caring. She can be wild and reckless, so he is the firm, but gentle hand that she has always needed. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t act up, just that when she does there is someone whose forgiveness she doesn’t have to beg on her knees for (too often, Pope will take an apology blowjob every now and then). Lamb was starved of affection and Pope wants to fill her with it (in many contexts).

**i am latina so by association all readers i write are as well BUT that doesn't mean you shouldn't or can't read my work! it just may not specifically cater to you most of the time, yk? take what resonates and leave what doesn't :)

next up:

durazno- pope x lamb!reader. the story of how they got together.

puppy!reader moodboard

@starfxkr i hope u like my take on lamb! definitely gonna start pinning ideas for pogue!lamb

#lamb!reader #latina!reader #pope heyward #pope hayward x reader #pope x reader #pope x lamb!reader

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poguesprincess · 2 months

Note

pope and his island girlfren who gets along w jj a lil too well for anyone's liking. the two of them make for a terrfying duo. the pogues are genuinely scared of what theyre plotting when theyre allowed to be together. two reckless bitches who just wanna have fun 🤩

-🐚

oh you know they’re a recipe for trouble

*.⊹˚𝜗୧ ‧₊˚

sometimes, you worry pope’s head might blow off when you and jj are given the opportunity to be, well, you and jj together. the two of you were always too excited when the time came around that you could be together, and you only seemed to egg him on on all his bad ideas.

when jj taught you how to ride his bike for the first time, it genuinely had the whole group stressing.

“it’s all about the throttle and clutch control, ‘aight? don’t worry about the rest. just let ‘er do her thing.”

“is that really the best way to go about this?” pope chimes in, hands raised defensively as you excitedly rev up the bike. you let out an exhilarated yell, and he moves toward you.

“back up, pretty boy. shes got it” jj brushes him off, turning back to you, “okay, so forget the manual for now. just feel the power. ready?” you nod, not wasting a second before you’re speeding off. you can hear pope yelling behind you to stay careful, begging you to slow down. when you turn to look behind you, he’s on his knees as if he’s praying, hands pressed together as he worriedly watches you skirt around the backyard and jj jumps excitedly with a fist pumped in the air.

when you return, you hop off the bike and deliver your signature handshake with the amped up blond boy, chests bumping and excitedly planning your next escapade.

pope is seemingly out of breath, “ne— never do that again— please, oh god,” and you roll your eyes, pulling him into a tight hug as you shake from adrenaline.

“‘kay, now can you do a backflip?”

“jj, no,” pope pleads, but the two of you are already running off into the sand as you get ready for your next lesson. what was he gonna do with you?

“dude, you’ve got yourself another jj,” sarah laughs, joining him as he slowly jogs off to monitor the activity. he shoots her a glare, causing him to stumble and fall onto the sand.

“thank you, pope, for showing her how not to do a backflip. now—“

he was screwed.

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

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mrsstarkey1 · 1 year

Note

Hiii! Could you do Pope Heyward x Fem! Reader where reader is comforting Pope after he found out the cross was fake? Like just some cute fluff?? It’s okay if not!

a/n: thanks for the request!!! @pogue-princess ! also why are there literally no pope fics out there?? i love him sm

word count: 0.5k

warnings: criminally short

You shut your bedroom door cautiously, careful not to let the sound wake your parents down the hall. "They'll be out for the night," you said quietly, turning to where Pope was sitting on your bed. You opened up the middle drawer of your dresser - Pope's designated drawer, and grabbed out a sweatshirt and a pair sweatpants of his. You handed them over to him with a small smile, "these'll be more comfortable."

"Thank you," he said weakly, offering a grateful half smile. You moved to your bathroom, changing your own clothes and leaving him to change in your room.

You returned moments later, eyes softening immediately at the sight of Pope lying on your bed staring at the ceiling. You shuffled over to the other side of the bed, climbing under the covers next to him. You were exhausted from the events of the day, so you couldn’t imagine how Pope was feeling.

You laid on your side, eyes trained on Pope. "I know this is probably a dumb question," you started softly, getting his attention, "but are you okay?"

“I don’t know,” he said quietly after a couple moments, tilting his head toward you, revealing his glossy eyes.

Your heart clenched immediately at the sight. You knew it was killing him; losing the cross. Again. “I’m so sorry, Pope,” you said softly, wrapping your arm around his middle and resting your head on his shoulder. “I know what the cross meant to you; to your family. And I have no idea what’s going through your head, and I can’t imagine how you’re feeling. But I want you to know that I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

Pope nodded weakly, “I know,” he leaned onto your shoulder, sinking into your embrace. You felt him let out a long breath into your neck, and you tightened your arms around him.

You traced circles onto Pope’s back in an attempt to console him and help him finally get some rest. You were starting to drift off to sleep yourself, comforted at the feeling of Pope’s arms around you.

“I just-” Pope started after a couple minutes of comfortable silence. He pulled his head from the crook of your neck, letting it fall onto the pillow. “I can’t believe we lost it again. We were so close. I thought we finally had it, y/n.”

You nodded in agreement, propping yourself up on your forearm to hover slightly above him. “So did I, baby,” you said softly, thumb tracing over his cheek lightly.

Pope’s eyes met your loving gaze, and he let himself smile for the first time tonight. “Thank you,” he spoke softly, fingers trailing along your arm, “for always being here.”

You responded by leaning down to press your lips to his in a short, sweet kiss. “I love you, Pope,” you whispered against his lips.

“I love you, y/n.”

taglist(message me to be added): @rafes-bae @willowpains @maybankslover @housekeeperjjswife

REQUESTS OPEN!!!

check out my obx masterlist

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likedovesinthewindd · 20 days

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fem!reader

there's a little surf shop close to the chateau, along the route pope and his friends usually take when they all head out to the beach. the girl who works at the shop has managed to catch pope's attention since the first time JJ had pulled him along inside because he needed some new surf wax. since then he'd make whatever excuse imaginable to be able to pop in.

today was the first time he'd gone on his own though, having hyped himself up along the way and telling himself he was going to try and strike up a conversation with you this time.

the shop's bell rings softly to indicate someone has entered the shop but you don't seem to notice, too deep in conversation with one of your friends as you sat by the front counter. there's soft music coming from the portable radio at the counter and the smell of vanilla incense hangs heavy in the air. pope tries to keep himself busy as he waits for you to finish your conversation so that he could go over to you, seemingly very interested in the various ocean themed trinkets on the shelf infront of him.

he's close enough that he can hear parts of your conversation, laughing to himself when you divulge to your friend how stupid you found the concept of pre-cut, plastic wrapped fruit. he's mindlessly walking around the shop by now, half feeling like a creep with every sneaky glance he gives you, watching the way you smile at your friend's jokes and listening to your laughs compliment the music like a added melody.

he's at the surfboard section by now when he hears your voice behind him. "do you need help looking for something?" you ask. he's a regular, you doubt he needs help finding anything by now but you still ask out of good service. the boy can only shake his head no (even though his head was screaming at him to say something), so you leave him once again. "okay. shout if you need help," you say before making your way back to the counter.

soon your friend leaves and pope returns to the counter, placing a tube of sunscreen and a pack of surfboard stickers on the wooden surface. you ring them up, feeling his eyes burn a hole into your head as you pressed the numbers into the cash register. he watches the way your prettily manicured nails type in each number, the click clack filling the silence.

you push the receipt into the small paper bag before handing him his stuff with a smile, and when pope sees the crinkles around your eyes appear and the way your cheeks ball up, he forgets whatever he had planned to say. he nearly forgets his manners, giving you a curt thanks before making his way out the shop. next time, he thinks.

𓈒 𓇼ㅤׂ ⊹ ˚

#outer banks fic #pope heyward #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward x you #pope heyward x y/n #pope x reader #likedovesinthewindd

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