trust that everything will fall into place without you forcing it there.

creepy!reader with pope heyward ft: jj maybank

warnings: unsettling behavior, mentions of death / dead animals, light horror imagery

a/n: hopefully this is somewhat good!

creepy!reader who moves too quietly, always just… there. like someone turns around and she’s standing two feet behind them with wide, unblinking eyes and a soft little “hi.”

creepy!reader who loves little creatures—like worms and dead bees and frogs—and keeps dried flowers and bones in jars, but not in a serial killer way. in a whimsical, overly-attached-to-dead-things way.

she’s not trying to freak anyone out, but her vibe is so offbeat that people assume she’s trying to curse them.

jj: “she’s literally hexing me, pope. she hasn’t blinked in 4 minutes.”

creepy!reader, blinking slowly: “you have pretty eyes.”

jj: screaming internally.

she definitely has a staring problem. not because she’s a menace, just because she forgets it’s weird. she’s not even thinking anything threatening. her brain is all soft thoughts like i wonder if jj’s hair is that soft in real life or if it’s just the sunlight and pope’s hands look like they’d feel nice if i held them.

except she says it exactly like that. with zero awareness that it sounds deranged.

everyone: visibly unsettled

pope: confused why no one else sees how kind she is

and he starts to notice things. like how she always gives people her extra snacks even though they avoid her, or how she hums when she’s nervous and tries to fix her posture when people seem scared. she doesn’t want to be creepy. she just doesn’t know how to be not weird.

creepy!reader: quietly holding a pigeon skull she found on the beach “do you want this?”

pope: smiles “yeah. thanks.”

creepy!reader: blinks “you’re the only one who ever says yes.”

and you know she’d be insanely loyal. pope helps her one time, and now she’s following him around like a haunted little duckling. doesn’t speak much, but if anyone messes with him she’s there. glaring. like some kind of unsettling shadow.

pope gets used to it. gets fond of it, even.

the others are still like “bro why is she watching us sleep” and pope’s like “she’s making sure the demons don’t get us.”

and honestly? she probably is.

“this isn’t neighbourhood watch," pope muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes, "if anything they should start a neighbourhood watch to look out for you." he jabbed at jj, and yet the blonde boy hadn't even noticed it.

pope sighing, knocked jj's knees off his lap, scurrying forward to a cold soda that john b had brought for them. 

the drink was nice and cool in his mouth, a small bubbly drink that made him mellow out. but he still felt antsy staring at jj. and jj? jj was deadly staring ahead with his binoculars, waiting for a glimpse of ms. kathy left her house. she'd given jj a talking back and mentioned that she was going to mention to the board of a possible expulsion.

jj, the boy that he was instead of saying sorry or running off to study the way that pope did, decided that he was going to teach her a "lesson." that lesson involved egging her house, and then stealing her precious watch. it was the same watch that she used to tell jj he was late. 

it was embarrassing that pope was here with jj but sometimes he couldn't help but tail around. if anything, he had a story rehearsed if she caught them. it consisted of grabbing the boys, running away, and if they were caught....then he would have to turn into the people-pleaser he was. all that would probably come out of his mouth at that point would be, 'yes ma'am,' or 'no ma'am."

though he was nervous, john b was practically alseep, munching on the stale popcorn for their sleepover. pope saw his eyes flicker before closing again as he let out a small satisfied sigh. 

yes, their whole hang out had started with the promise of sleeping over at john b's. and yet, that had taken a sour turn. the sleepover was something that they were used to and pope had never dared to change the way things were...except that one time where he retaliated about where they should have it. pop had given him shit about messing the place and he huffed into the treehouse to complain. after all, either slept over at pope's or john b's, and jj's house seemed to be off limit. 

"i'm just saying, we should switch places. and my pop's is sick of us. he makes me do extra chores after you guys leave," pope whined, giving jj a pointed look. after all it was jj's idea that they should paint themselves blue with paint and then scare the crap out of his cousins who were staying over. what really happened was...they were caught by pope's dad and them embarrassingly hosed down in the middle of the night.

that being said, pope was called 'smurf boy,' for the rest of the week. that memory fresh in his head, he pointed at jj as if he was expecting him to say something and unlike what poe was expecting, jj seemed to cower and muttered something.

then he turned back into himself, and started looking out the window of the treehouse. john b instead was glaring pope down so hard, he felt like there was a hole taht was being borne into him. it was after that he never brought it up. the only thing that he seemed to remember very clearly was the look on jj's face when he looked at him more clearly. 

jj's face was a light pink, as his hands shook. and there was a look of sadness on his face. a look that pope had never seen on his friend. so he never ever brought up going over to jj's. frankly, he didn't remember the last time that he'd seen jj's dad outside of the small scary encounters whenever they picked up jj in the middle of the night. 

it was nights like those that had taught him that there was something wrong in that house. now he must have been staring at jj for too long because he felt a smack on his face.

it was john b, grinning. 

"fucks wrong with you? bro you are so out of it," john jeered, a playful smile on his face. pope rolled his eyes again, leaning back feeling his face heat up. john b, as ill-mannered as he was, he was insightful and when he found something he was interested in all he did was focus on that thing. currently, it was the look on pope's face when he looked at jj. 

pope sighed, running a hand over his face and finally leaned back letting his eyes rest. there was a peaceful moment before he felt someone shake him.

it was jj, "c'mon man! she's asleep," he laughed before shaking him harder. pope couldn't help but smile a little at the look on jj's face. he looked a crazed kid who was opening gifts early on chrismas. only after he looked at john b did he tone it down and shook his head. 

" it is your thing. i'll stay back and keep watch." 

"alright, dude, whatever you say. see you soon." 

john b instead seemed to having fun with it, and pointed at pope with a mocking look, "yeah," he crooned, flashlight illuminating his face as he howled, " stay safe ..." 

it was only after pope grinned, smacking john b on the side of the face did the both of them hustle down the treehouse. and it was only after both of them left that pope let out a breath he was holding in. now it was time to wait.

:3 x :3 x :3 x :3 x :3 :3 :3

“i see your true colors now.” jj jeered, laughing even harder as he mimicked the way that ms. kathy talked in class. "man, i still can't believe that's what she said to me. i was this close to tearing her lying face off," he makes a gesture, his fingers almost touching.

john b smiled before jj aggressively took a mouthful out of the cereal they had to poured out infront of the TV. scooby doo played lightly in the back, it was a goofy show but it was calming and it wasn't like john b had cable anyways. 

pope yawned as john b talked about how crazy ms. kathy looked like when she was yelling at jj. it was now where he could relax. 

finally, pope rested his head on jj's shoulder. unsurprisingly, jj let him do it, even adjusting a bit so pope could rest his face a bit better. they were in sync, always entangled in one and another, if anything jj was pope's best friend. john be seemed to smirk just a bit when pope nestled into jj's head but decided to say nothing. the death glare that pope gave john b probably had nothing to do with it. 

"listen, i wasn't scared at all. really, it felt like i was getting what i had to do. you know who was scared, this guy," jj said, gently bumping pope's head with his shoulder. pope let out a small yelp before falling back on the couch with a drowsy smile. it was nearly 3. am now as they talked. pope could barely keep up with anything that was being said. 

໒꒰ྀི´• ˕ •` ꒱ྀིა ♡ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

when you and pope first start dating—he's awfully awkward. there's something about him blushing every two seconds you touch him. at one point you get the giggles watching him turn slightly red stammering with his sentences.

you're a pretty girl, one that gets stares as you walk across outerbanks. a little quiet with a shy stare that captivates. that's what pope said he noticed about you when you asked him about first impressions. sometimes you like teasing him like this, watching him get more flustered.

and per usual he smiles, that pope way, tugging on your shirt his breath warm on your neck, "i thought—this is a really pretty girl," he chokes on his breath, "like super pretty."

you roll your eyes, "yeah, yeah i bet you tell that to all of the girls heyward!" you say as you swat him away, turning around as you feel your face warm up. pope looks a bit ruffled, with a cheesy smile on his face. still he inches closer to you, fingers kissing your face.

pope frowns and then he gets real close. so close you can feel his heartbeat. you can see that little quirk at the corner of his mouth, and then he gently turns you around your eyes. you stare at him a little longer. just for one more beat.

you did this a lot. there'd be pauses in the conversations, and suddenly you'd be staring at him with your inquisitive eyes as he looks back at you. pope's got that way of looking at you that makes you feel as if he really, really sees you.

then he smiles. smiles so wide you feel as if your heart will rip out of your chest. smiles and you think that maybe this was the reason you were alive. to gaze at that bright smile. the sun beams down at his smile, and you bite your lip to stop laughing.

"that's it—!"

"what?"

"that's the look that i fell for," he continues, a teasing smile on his face. now you're enveloped in his warm embrace, "those wide eyes staring back at me with wonder. too pretty to stand. and this mouth—" he pecks your lips, "i fell for the things you say."

you blush, getting quiet as you blubber, "i think you're getting too good at this. not fair. i—"

but despite your protest, you lean into him and smile.

maybe he's not that awkward.

since you asked so nicely ! 🤍

tell me why pope would be the most supportive dad ever. there is no way he wouldn't be trying to do everything for his kid, and the minute you became pregnant, he was reading all of the pregnancy books, and then even getting the baby to listen to classical music because maybe that would make them smarter. you would always giggle when he got the headset out, and put it on your baby bump. it was always some sort of niche genre, sometimes rocking it out to indie, or soft lulluby, but always something that made you remember why you loved him so much.

but you had to admit, sometimes you got a little clingly. sometimes he was doing his little work, and all you wanted from him was a kiss. sometimes thats all you wanted.

pope would be so focused on putting on the small pink head set, making sure it didn't hurt you, eyes zoned in, tongue stuck out as he adjusted it gently, "that alright?"

you would nodd, before trying to kiss him. every time he did something like this for you, you had the biggest urge to just grab him and kiss him hard. unfortunaly for you, pope had more to say.

"now, listen here. so if the baby listens to this music, they'll know it—"

"damn it!"

pope raised his eyebrows, hands pulled out to touch you before suddenly looking back at you with alarm, "hey! you good?"

suddenly you felt guilty for giving him a scare, and gently pulled away the headset off your stomache. instead you looked ad him more gently. looked at the way his eyelashes fluttered, and how his adam apple bobbed as if he was really scared. all of a sudden you were frowning, looking down at the baby bump.

"hey..hey?" pope whispered, gently lifting your chin so you were looking into his eyes. "something wrong?

it was here you would pout, "enough of this talking, of this dad business. kiss me, damn it."

then pope grinned, "hey mama, if you wanted it so bad, you could have asked nicely."

"this is me asking nicely." then you grabbed him by his very nice shirt, and his very nice hair and, you know for all of you that you gave him a very nice kiss.

“and i tried to explain to him that that’s not how dna and genetics worked, but he just shrugged me off and went back on his little rant. i mean, why do i even try?” pope rambles. the two of you were currently sat on your bed, your back against the headboard with pope’s head in your lap.

to be totally honest, you weren’t really paying attention to what he was saying. i mean, how could you? not when those beautiful big brown eyes were staring into your soul. your fingers were tangled in his necklace, careful not to break it.

“and then today when i was at the store, some kid bumped into me and nearly knocked me over. didn’t even stop to say excuse me. can you believe that? how are parents raising their kids these days. no respect, at all.” he continues. he was so cute when he rambled on like this.

he kept talking more, either not noticing that your attention wasn’t fully on his words or just simply not caring. however, you are pulled out of your boyfriend-induced daydream when his hand reaches up and readjusts your glasses on your nose. 

“we need to plant some more veggies, we’re running low. we should have room for that in the budget, right?” he asks as he finally looks up at you.

there’s a long pause before your response comes. “you wanna make out?”

“huh?” he asks, sitting up abruptly. you laugh at that, taking off your glasses and setting them aside as you crawl into his lap.

“i said, do you wanna make out?”

“i mean, how could i say no to that?” he asks as he pulls you down so you’re laying on top of him.

the one time you got sick, you'd never forget it because pope heyward was with you the whole time. at your worst, as you stomped up his doorstep, he took care of you with all his being.

it was a chilly season, as the autumn leaves turned a bright crisp. cascades of oranges, maroons, and golden floated down to gently scrape the floor. you liked it the best, with your sweaters, and knitted hats. you'd made pope some matching ones, and jj teased him for being so pussy whipped.

of course, pope wore it everywhere the two of you went. it was crochet so you'd taken extra time to make sure it fit him. you liked making him these sorts of things because sometimes it was hard for you to use your words. sometimes your tongue felt like an awkward sludge in your mouth—but pope had this way of making you feel enough. there were times where his expression brown eyes, and that smile he gave you was enough for you to sigh and hum.

see it was you acting dazed around him was where you got this cold in the first place. no, that wasn't really the answer, but you'd like to think it was.  

"if you hadn't distracted me, i wouldn't have this cold!" you croaked out, sniffling quietly as pope gave you a cup of tea. you'd stomped onto his step, shaking from the cold, your lips cracked. this was the day that the two of you had put aside for a date.

pope had gotten a few scholarship things done, and you'd put time aside from school. but as you stood there on his doorstep you knew pope was looking at you with nothing but sympathy. but you still raged on.

"hmm, how did i distract you?"

you could tell he was trying to distract you. (or maybe take care of you, but you were too mad to distinguish the difference between the two,) it was that absentmindedly way he was gently dragging into his room. it was the way the space between his forehad creased as he studied your temperature. it was the way he told you to sit down on the bed.

"by..." suddenly you felt a bit inadequate, stumbling on your words as you watched pope dabb your forehead. then you just huffed, folding your hands across your chest. it was very hard to be unreasonable when pope was being so kind, but the ache in your throat was helping you become more vengeful.

"by being too cute!"

at this pope hummed again, a smile on his face, "yea? by being too cute? that's your reasoning?" he laughed again, but then watched your face crumble up, and quickly looked serious again.

"shit, i'm sorry. i'm not very good at this," pope muttered, quickly trying to fix your spacing. "c'mon bambi, no need to cry," he cooed. then suddenly he was shuffling everywhere at this point, fixing the blanket, bringing you a different cup of tea because the goddamn tea was too cold, and then telling you maybe he could put on a nature film because you really liked those—

and that's when you burst into tears, "i'm so mean."

he stilled. you took that as an agreement, and you settled again. tears streamed down your face freely as you clutched the stupid childhood stuffie in your hand. apparently pope had thought that little paddington bear had magic powers when he was younger. he had given it to you because he thought you'd feel better. he was so good to you.

"pope, i'm cranky, and i'm blaming you," you cried, then you snuggled closer to the bear, "and you gave me your bear! you gave me the bear," you whispered those words quietly, solemnly like a grave mistake that would never leave.

finally, he turned back to you. his face was soft as he wiped away your tears. he was staring at you with a gentle fondness, "you're sick. you're a little grumpy. you're going to be fine."

you stopped your sniffling at that, feeling your heart swell up. your voice was soft, a bit creaky as you whispered to him.

"you think?"

"i know."

you laughed, in that watery way of yours as you brought the bear closer to your chest, "of course you know." then you bit your lip as you watched pope purse his lips in that solemn, all-knowing way of his.

"yeah, baby, i know."

then despite the fact that you probably had snot running down your nose, that your hair was a mess, and that you had been awful to him, pope pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and that was it.

you knew you were going to be fine.

see pope would live off that shit. i swear sometimes you scold him for starting without you. it's early in the morning, and you can't feel the warmth of his body next to yours, and before you know it you can see a light blue reflecting on your way.

pope's playing without you!!! he gives you this little impish smile before solving it, and then laughs so hard when you let out a groan, "pope! i told you i like doing it with you." and sometimes he likes teaching you about the new words, and chastening you with the answers.

you would squint at the connections, "nothing makes sense!" you would whine, before he laughed at you, dropping a soft kiss on your shoulder.

then pope would take it away from you, gently show you what the answer was.

and yes the pogues find you snuggled in pope's lap sometimes just whispering the answers. pope's got you completely in love <3