emotionallyunavailable!reader accidentally makes pope become fiercely protective of your boundaries. if someone says, “she never talks” or tries to force you into opening up at family dinners or parties, he’s the first one to redirect the conversation. not because he thinks you can’t defend yourself, but because he knows how exhausting it is to constantly be treated like you’re “broken” for being emotionally reserved. he never wants you to feel like you have to perform vulnerability just to make other people comfortable.

emotionallyunavailable!reader who made pope eventually stop waiting for you to love him the way movies tell people love should look. instead, he’d start noticing your own language. the way your hand lingers on his back for a second longer than usual when you pass him in the kitchen, how you always make sure his phone is charged before he leaves, the way you instinctively move closer to him in crowded places. once he learned to read your version of love, he’d realize he’d been surrounded by it all along.

emotionallyunavailable!reader who has “safe” forms of closeness, and pope learns all of it. maybe sitting shoulder to shoulder while watching tv is easier than facing each other. maybe you’re okay with your knees brushing under the table but not with surprise hugs. he remembers every one of those little preferences without you having to remind him. he’d automatically choose the seat beside you instead of across from you because he knows being next to each other feels less overwhelming. if you’re driving somewhere together, he doesn’t immediately reach for your hand over the center console, he just lets the quiet settle between you. if you’re comfortable enough to lean your leg against his for a few seconds, he doesn’t move. he doesn’t make a joke about it or point it out. he just lets you decide how long it lasts.

emotionallyunavailable!reader who after an argument goes almost fully silent. sometimes he’d accidentally make things worse by asking too many questions. not because he’s interrogating you, but because he’s trying to understand. after the fifth, “what happened?” you’d sigh, clearly overwhelmed, and he’d immediately realize he’s pushing too hard. “sorry,” he’d mumble. “one question at a time.”

his hand comes down with a heavy, firm smack that echoes through the room, the weight of it making your ass sting instantly. his jaw was tight and eyes dark as he holds you bent over his lap, skirt flipped up and panties yanked down. his palm is so big, so solid, it feels like it brands your skin with every strike.

“you take it so good, don’t ya baby?” he growls low, voice rough and low. he doesn’t rush, he lifts his hand and brings it down again, harder this time, the heavy impact making your whole body jolt forward. the firmness of his palm leaves a deep, burning heat that spreads fast.

you whimper, fingers clutching the sheets, but he just grips your hip tighter with his other hand, keeping you right where he wants you.

another heavy spank lands, then another, each one deliberate and full of punishment. his hand feels impossibly heavy, the solid slap of skin on skin loud and obscene. every time his palm connects it sends a sharp jolt straight to your core, your pussy getting wetter with every firm strike. rafe rubs over the sore spot roughly, squeezing the reddening flesh before pulling back and spanking you again, harder.

“y’like how this feels, baby?” he says, voice dripping with satisfaction as he delivers a rapid set of smacks, alternating cheeks until your skin is hot and throbbing. you’re squirming, moaning into the mattress, but he doesn’t stop. he keeps spanking you with that same heavy, unrelenting rhythm, his big hand covering so much of you with each powerful slap.

content warnings. ⸝⸝ fem reader, food play, black!reader, oral sex, hair pulling, fingering, no proof read, dark skin!reader

you feel the cool air of the cameron’s beach house kiss your bare skin as rafe locks the bedroom door behind him. the party downstairs is still raging, kelce and his crew blasting music, but up here it’s just you, rafe, and the can of whipped cream he swiped from the kitchen.

your dark skin glows under the low lamp light, box braids cascading down your back and past your ass like a thick curtain. the diamond anklet he bought you last month sparkles around your ankle every time you shift on the bed.

“been thinkin’ about this all night,” rafe murmurs, voice low and rough as he stalks toward you. he’s already shirtless, board shorts hanging low on his hips, that cocky smirk playing on his lips. “my girl lookin’ too good in that little dress. i had to get you alone.” he whispers.

he peels the thin fabric off you slowly, letting it pool on the floor until you’re naked beneath him. your full tits, the curve of your waist, the way your braids spill over the sheets, rafe’s eyes darken with hunger.

he shakes the whipped cream can, the metal clinking softly, then presses the nozzle against your collarbone. cold white cream spirals out in a thick line down between your breasts, over your stomach, circling each nipple until they’re peaked and aching.

“rafe…” you breathe, arching a little as the chill makes you shiver. “shh, baby. let me taste.” he leans down, tongue dragging slow and hot over your skin, licking the sweetness from your collarbone first. his mouth is greedy, sucking gently at the sensitive spot before moving lower.

he swirls his tongue around one whipped cream covered nipple, pulling it into his mouth with a wet pop that makes you moan. your fingers thread through his hair, tugging as he devours you.

he trails lower, painting more cream along the dip of your hips, then down your thighs. the anklet catches the light as he spreads your legs wider, diamond flashing while he settles between them. rafe sprays a messy line right above your pussy, letting it drip down teasingly before his mouth follows.

his tongue laps it up in long, filthy strokes, sweet cream mixing with your wetness as he eats you like he’s starving. he hums against your clit, the vibration shooting pleasure up your spine.

“fuck, you taste so good,” he growls, voice muffled. one hand grips your thick braid, wrapping it around his fist like a leash while the other holds your thigh open. he adds more whipped cream, making a sticky trail over your folds, then sucks it all off with obscene sounds that echo in the room. your hips buck against his face, braids shifting wildly as you chase the building heat.

rafe doesn’t stop. he fucks you with his tongue, licking every last drop of cream from your dripping cunt until you’re shaking, thighs squeezing around his head. the anklet bounces lightly against his shoulder with every twitch of your leg.

“come on, baby. let me hear you,” he demands, sucking hard on your clit while two fingers slide deep inside you. the pressure snaps, and you cum with a broken moan, body arching off the bed as waves crash through you.

rafe pulls back, lips shiny with cream and your slick, grinning up at you. “we ain’t done yet. got a whole can left.” he sprays a dollop right on the tip of his hard cock, stroking himself slowly. “your turn to clean me up.” he teased.

you sit up, braids falling forward as you lean in, ready to return the favor, tongue swirling around his cream covered length while he watches with light eyes.

he sprays another thick swirl of whipped cream right along his hard cock, from base to tip, the cold making him hiss through his teeth. “clean it up, baby. use that pretty mouth,” he orders, voice rough.

you wrap your fingers around the base, the diamond anklet sparkling as your leg shifts for balance. your dark skin contrasts against his, lips parting as you drag your tongue slow up the underside, licking every sweet drop. the cream mixes with the salty taste of his skin, and you moan around him, taking him deeper. rafe groans, one hand fisting your thick braids to guide you. “fuck yeah… just like that.”

you hollow your cheeks, sucking him down wet and messy, tongue swirling to catch every bit of whipped cream. your head bobs faster, braids swaying with the rhythm while you take him to the back of your throat. rafe’s hips twitch, pushing a little deeper, the wet sounds of your mouth filling the room.

“shit, your mouth feels too good,” he pants, watching your full lips stretch around him. you look up at him through your lashes, eyes watering a little as you work him harder, sucking, licking, stroking what you can’t fit. more cream gets added when he pulls out briefly, only for you to dive back in, slurping it all off like it’s your favorite treat.

his grip tightens in your braids, abs flexing as he gets close. “gonna cum, baby—don’t stop.” he whimpers.

and you don’t! you suck him sloppier, faster, until his cock twitches hard on your tongue. rafe curses loud, hips stuttering as thick ropes of cum spill down your throat. you swallow every drop, milking him through it while the last bits of whipped cream mix with his release. he keeps your head in place for a few seconds longer, breathing heavy, before finally letting go.

arrangedmarriage!rafe who loves hearing you say degrading shit. he loves laughing at you in your face while you cry, not being able to speak but moan. his favorite sentence to tell you to ‘thank your daddy for selling you to a cameron’ who then he rewards you with orgasms when you obey and gets meaner when you’re bratty.

arrangedmarriage!rafe who is is ridiculously turned on by your changing body. as soon as your tits start swelling and getting sensitive, he’s on them constantly, sucking, biting, and leaving marks all over them. always sucking bruises into the soft flesh, making you whimper because everything feels more intense.

arrangedmarriage!rafe who’s honeymoon phase with you is absolutely wild. he keeps you in the bedroom for days, only letting you out to eat. multiple rounds every single day, morning sex where he wakes you up by eating you out until you’re crying, lazy afternoon fucks on the balcony where anyone could see, and rough nights where he ties your wrists to the headboard and edges you until you’re begging.

arrangedmarriage!rafe who is so horny during the second trimester when your belly really starts showing. missionary is out of the picture, he loves fucking you from behind or spooning so he can wrap one arm around your bump and the other around your throat.

arrangedmarriage!rafe who didn’t want this marriage at first. he saw it as another one of his dad’s power moves; merging families for business. but the second he saw you walking down the aisle in that white dress, something dark clicked in him. that night he didn’t even wait to get to the honeymoon suite properly; he had you bent over the nearest surface in the reception hall bathroom, dress shoved up around your waist, while he fucked you hard enough that your legs shook for the rest of the night.

everyone has their own opinions and dislikes on celebrities idk why people are attacking you for ts

beyocne doesn’t know you, she doesn’t care about you, hop off her dick

oh no!!!!! i correct misinformation about a celebrity that you people are clearly lying about because you’re trying to defend a pedo baiter and FORCE me to like her!!!!!! oh no i’m such a boot licker 🥹🥹🥹🥹

no literally 😭😭😭

LMFAOOOO

i have multiple ! ! !

i’m not defending sabrina but she has spoken up about politics before, i’m willing to believe it’s performative considering what happened at coachella but she has made many political statements that show she’s not maga

also beyoncé is a billionaire so maga or not she isn’t a good person either 😭

not liking someone purely because they’re a billionaire is peak class envy logic straight out of the communist playbook

let’s not forget that beyonce became a billionaire through talent, decades of hit music, tours, her smart ass business moves, and millions of people voluntarily buying her stuff. that’s literally capitalism working; creating value and getting rewarded for it.

let’s also not forget that she donates SO much of her money but someone like beyonce is going to be rich no matter what because she is so famous.

you CAN criticize specific people for their politics, behavior, or choices regardless of wealth (plenty of broke jerks and rich jerks exist). but hating the billionaire category itself assumes wealth is automatically illegitimate or that success = bad person. that is not evidence based… it’s an ideology.

⎯⎯⎯⎯ 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐘 ✦

pov. pope doesn’t have regular sex with you, he’s so traumatized that he can’t. you acknowledge it and accept that’s how he’ll just be forever but when he comes to you out of nowhere and lets you fuck him, you can’t help but fuck him in the gentle ways you’ve been longing to do.

content warnings. ⸝⸝ fem reader, softdom!reader, switch!pope, praise kink, tiny bit of a size kink, tad bit of angst, no proof read, sub leaning!pope, aftercare

pope was never fully there during sex. even when his body moved right, his head was somewhere else, drowning in old blood, smurf’s voice in his ear, catherine’s face, the weight of every fucked up thing he’d done and couldn’t take back. he’d get lost mid thrust, jaw tight, eyes distant, like he was watching himself from outside his own skin.

sometimes he’d go quiet for too long, breath shaky, muscles locked up while his mind spun too fast to let him feel anything good. he fucked like a man trying to outrun something, and most nights he lost, and you were the only one who ever noticed. the only one who slowed him down instead of letting him disappear.

you’re now stretched out on smurf’s living room couch, remote in your lap, some mindless show flickering across the screen. the house is quiet for once, the sliding door scrapes open and pope steps in from the backyard, shoulders tight, that familiar restless energy rolling off him. his eyes find you immediately.

he walks over to you. “hey baby,” you say gently, voice soft like you’re approaching something skittish.

he doesn’t answer. just glances at the tv, then back to you. his jaw clenches hard, like he’s chewing on whatever storm is in his head. you can see it, the way he’s already half gone, thoughts eating him alive. “come here,” he says, low and rough.

you lift a brow and set the remote aside, starting to push yourself up, but pope’s done waiting. he moves fast, snatching you up off the couch like you weigh nothing, arms locking around you. you let out a surprised breath as he carries you down the hall toward j’s room.

“you okay?” you ask quietly, one hand resting against the side of his neck. but he doesn’t answer, just shoulders j’s door open with a shove.

j looks up from his bed, confused for half a second before he clocks pope’s face. he exchanges a quick look with you, then nods slowly and stands up without a word, slipping out past you both.

pope kicks the door shut behind him and sets you down on the edge of the bed. he’s breathing hard already, eyes dark. “fuck me,” he says, and you blink. “what?” you ask.

“you heard me.” his voice is rough, almost impatient, but there’s that raw edge underneath. he peels his shirt off in one quick motion, tossing it aside, revealing the tense lines of his chest and shoulders. he stands there in front of you, waiting, jaw tight, hands flexing at his sides like he’s fighting not to grab you again.

he needs this, needs you to take the wheel before his head drags him under.

you pause for a second, staring at him. your eyes flick over to the wide open window, the backyard and whoever might walk by completely visible. “you wanna close the window and lock the door?” you ask gently.

pope was already moving. he locked the door first with a quick twist, then crossed to the window and pulled the curtains shut tight, blocking out the rest of the world. when he turned back, you were already stripping. you pulled your clothes off piece by piece, letting them drop to the floor.

the cold air bit at your skin, raising goosebumps as you pushed your hair over into a lazy side part.

he came back to you fast, stepping right into your space, close enough that you could feel the heat rolling off his bare chest. you looked up at him, searching his face. “what’s going on with you?” you asked softly.

pope didn’t answer with words. he just leaned down and kissed you, hard and desperate, you kissed him back, brows furrowed against the intensity of it, your hands sliding up his arms. he was already shoving his jeans and boxers down, kicking them off while his mouth stayed on yours.

when he finally pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead rested against yours. “i’m sorry,” he muttered, voice low and rough. “no,” you said, gentle but firm. “come here. tell me what’s wrong.” you said.

you took his hand and pulled him closer, guiding him as he fell over you on the bed. his weight settled between your legs, skin warm against your cold body. he kissed you again, slower this time, almost like he was hiding in it. you let him, one hand threading through his hair while the other stroked down his back.

you broke the kiss just enough to whisper against his mouth, “can i ride you while you tell me what’s wrong?” you questioned.

pope let out a shaky breath, eyes half lidded, already nodding before the words even left him. “yeah… please,” he rasped, voice cracking just a little. his hands gripped your hips like he needed something solid to hold onto, but the look in his eyes was pure surrender. “just… don’t stop touching me.” he begged.

pope stood back up slowly, like he needed a second to steady himself. he walked over to the side of j’s little bed and climbed on, settling with his back against the wall, legs stretched out, as he waited for you, chest rising and falling too fast.

you made your way to him on your knees, crawling into his lap. the size difference hit hard by the way you looked so small tucked against his broad frame, thighs spread wide over his hips, your body fitting perfectly in the space between his legs like you were made to be there.

you reached down, wrapped your hand around him, and slowly slid down, taking him inch by inch until he was buried deep inside you.

pope groaned low, head tilting back against the wall. his big hands immediately went to your sides, rubbing slow, soothing circles over your skin like he was trying to memorize the feeling of you. “tell me,” you said softly, starting to move, rolling your hips nice and slow.

“i miss you,” he breathed, voice rough and shaky. “and i need you. all the time. can’t get my head right without you.” his fingers dug into your waist a little harder, but not rough, just desperate, like he was scared you’d disappear.

you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him close as you kept slowly bouncing on his cock. your breath hitched against his ear with every roll of your hips, soft little sounds slipping out while your legs pressed tight against his sides.

you already knew you were gonna be sore after this, the stretch of him, the burn at your thighs, the way he filled you so completely, but you didn’t care. you just kept moving, gentle and steady, letting him feel every bit of you.

you leaned in and started pressing soft little peck kisses along his cheek, then slowly down the side of his throat. his skin was warm under your lips, pulse jumping every time you kissed him. “you missed me?” you asked gently.

pope nodded, quick and almost shy, eyes half closed as he swallowed hard.

you smiled against his skin and leaned up, catching his lips in a soft, sweet peck. your vanilla lip gloss transferred onto his mouth, shiny and sweet. he didn’t wipe it away, he just let it stay there, licking his bottom lip once like he was tasting you, breathing you in. “you know i love you, right?” you whispered.

pope’s arms tightened around you instantly, pulling you flush against his chest like he needed to feel your heartbeat. his voice came out low and cracked, almost broken. “yeah… i know. i love you too.” he shot back, smooth as if it was said to make you not worry. “fuck, i love you so much it scares me sometimes.” he added, voice more desperate.

you started riding him deeper, picking up the pace just a little, rolling your hips with more purpose. his cock hit that perfect spot inside you over and over, making your breath catch.

“i love you so much honey,” you murmured against his ear, voice warm and steady. “you’re doing so good for me. just keep talking to me.” you encouraged. pope let out a shaky groan, forehead pressed to your shoulder as his hands slid down to grip your ass, helping guide your movements. his hips started pushing up to meet you, needy and uncoordinated, like he couldn’t stop himself from chasing the feeling.

“feels so good… don’t stop. please don’t stop,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “i need you. been thinking about you all day… just you. only you make it quiet in my head.” he admitted. he buried his face deeper into your neck, breathing you in while you kept riding him slow and deep, your bodies pressed tight together in the quiet room.

you kept moving on him, fucking yourself deeper onto his cock with slow, purposeful rolls of your hips. every time you sank down, he hit your gspot so perfectly it made your thighs tremble around him. you stayed soft the whole time, never rushing, just taking care of him.

“that’s it, baby,” you whispered, pressing more gentle kisses along his jaw and down his neck. “you’re being so good for me. so sweet letting me take care of you like this.” your lips brushed his ear as you spoke, voice low and warm. “i’ve got you. just feel me, honey. you don’t have to think about anything else right now.”

pope whimpered softly, the sound slipping out before he could stop it. his head tipped back against the wall, eyes glassy, hands gripping your waist like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. his hips tried to chase you but he kept letting you set the pace, surrendering completely.

you rocked harder onto him, taking him deeper, grinding down so his cock rubbed right against that spot inside you again and again. your breath hitched against his ear as pleasure sparked up your spine.

“fuck… you feel so good,” you murmured, kissing the shell of his ear. “my sweet boy. you’re doing so well. love how you let me ride you like this.“ you said to him. “please… don’t stop. i need you so bad.” he breathed, voice shaky and desperate. his hands slid up your back, clinging to you as his body trembled underneath.

you smiled softly and kissed him again, slow and deep, while you kept fucking yourself onto him harder, chasing that perfect angle. one hand stayed wrapped around the back of his neck, holding him close as you whispered right against his lips between kisses.

“good boy. just like that. let me make you feel better, baby. i’ve got you.” you assured him. pope moaned quietly, completely lost in you now. you could feel him getting close, his cock twitching inside you, thighs tensing under yours, breath coming out in short, desperate little pants against your neck.

you kept riding him steady and deep, grinding down so he stayed right against your g-spot while you praised him softly. “you’re so handsome, y’know that?” you murmured, brushing your lips along his cheek. “baby, say it.” you ordered.

pope’s voice cracked, barely above a whisper, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and embarrassment. “m’handsome.” he mumbled. “so handsome,” you repeated sweetly, kissing his cheek again, lingering there as you kept moving on him. “my pretty boy. doin’ so good for me.”

that was all it took. pope let out a broken moan, hips jerking up as he came hard inside you. you felt the warm, thick spurts of his cum flooding you, pulse after pulse, filling you up so deep and messy that it started to leak out around his cock, slick and hot, coating your thighs and dripping down onto him.

he kept cumming for what felt like forever, trembling underneath you, completely lost. even after he finished, he didn’t stop. his hands gripped your hips tighter and he kept thrusting up into you, slow and deep, pushing his cum even deeper while he panted against your skin.

“want you to cum,” he whispered, voice hoarse and needy. “please… wanna feel you cum on me. please let me make you feel good.” he begged. you smiled softly against his cheek, still rocking with him, letting him fuck his cum back into you while you held him close.

pope’s hand slid up to your throat, not squeezing hard, just resting there, warm and firm, helping guide you as you fucked yourself onto him. his hips snapping up harder to meet you, driving his cock straight into that perfect spot inside you over and over. “feel good?” he asked, voice low and rough.

your jaw dropped, a quiet moan slipping out at first before it got louder, breathier. “yes—yes!” you moaned, the sound filling the room as pleasure built fast. he gave your ass a gentle slap, not hard, just enough to make you jolt and sink down deeper on him. he fucked up into you a few more times, steady and deep, until you finally broke.

you came hard around his cock, walls pulsing and fluttering tight around him. warm, slick wetness gushed out of you, soaking his lap and mixing with his cum already inside you. your whole body shook as the orgasm rolled through you, thighs trembling, nails digging lightly into his shoulders while you clenched and dripped all over him.

you both slowly came to a stop, breathing heavy. you leaned forward and rested your forehead against his neck, trying to catch your breath. pope’s arms wrapped around you tight, one hand rubbing slow circles on your back. “you okay?” he asked quietly, voice still a little hoarse.

“mhm,” you hummed, holding onto him tighter. “i need a bath.” you mentioned, pope stayed quiet for a second, just holding you close like he didn’t want to let go. then he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “yeah… i’ll take one with you,” he murmured, voice soft but certain.

you stayed curled against him for a minute, catching your breath. pope eventually reached for his shirt on the floor and gently pulled it over your head, covering you up. he didn’t bother with anything for himself, just scooped you up in his arms, completely naked, and carried you out of j’s room like it was the most normal thing in the world.

as soon as you stepped into the hallway, j and craig were right there. you looked over pope’s shoulder and burst out laughing. craig’s eyes went wide before he started cracking up. “jesus christ—” craig yelled, half laughing, half shocked. j immediately covered his face with both hands, groaning.

“put some shorts on dude!” craig called after you two, bursting into louder laughter. pope didn’t even flinch. he just kept walking, holding you tighter against his chest, completely unbothered as he carried you straight into the bathroom and kicked the door shut behind him.

he set you down gently on the edge of the tub, turned the water on warm, and poured in some soap until the tub started filling with bubbles. once it was ready, he helped you out of his shirt and lowered you into the water first, then climbed in behind you.

he pulled your back against his chest, arms wrapping around you under the warm water, holding you close as the heat soaked into both of you.

“you feel okay?” he asked quietly, pressing a slow kiss to your shoulder, then another to the side of your neck. his hands rubbed gentle circles over your stomach and thighs under the water, soothing the soreness already starting to settle in. you hummed, relaxing completely against him. “yeah… really good.” you replied.

yes :’) ! ! !