⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … BED CHEM ♡
track seven of the short n’sweet series. pairing: kook!pope x reader. based loosely of the song bed chem by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა
you’d heard of love at first sight, but lust at first sight was an experience that hit you like a tonne of bricks in the university library.
the first time you’d had the chance to experience pope heyward in full was when he sat at a booth behind you whilst you were studying. you kind of already knew who he was, and kind of already had always thought he was cute despite knowing very little about him despite the fact he was wealthy and a chemistry major. you’d had the chance to talk to him at a party before, sure — but you didn’t think it was appropriate to bond with a boy with the likes of him whilst you were wearing such a sheer dress. you’d said no more than hi and bye.
“look, dude i’m not sayin’ i’m bad at sex. my girls always cum. all i’m sayin’ is, i feel like i can be better. i don’t know how you do the whole teasing thing. i’m a dude. with dude parts. i get impatient and just wanna go straight to pound town — boom!” his blonde friend rambles, and your ears prick up immediately, tearing your eyes away from your textbook to listen distractedly. it wasn’t your fault— you were ovulating, and plus, popes friend was talking at an alarmingly casual volume. “c’mon bro you take chemistry. don’t you know about the human body n’shit?”
“okay, first of all — what you’re talking about is biology. second of all, i’m trying to study. third of all would you keep your voice down?” you hear him ball something up and toss it in the direction of the blonde and nearly let your giggle slip. you were bored out of your mind and horny, there was no harm in eavesdropping.
“alright alright — but answer me this one thing.” popes pal lowers his voice so naturally you lean back in your booth to listen in. “say i want a girl goin’ crazy. beggin’ for it. what do i gotta do? c’mon pope i know you know.”
“if i give you some pointers will you shut the hell up and let me study?” pope sounds bored, and his nonchalance to the situation makes you flush.
the darker skinned boy sighs, and you picture him leaning on his elbows, making you work even harder to listen. “okay. put a pillow under her hips. it’s gonna help you hit her gspot a lot easier and she’s gonna be more comfortable which you want. massage her hips when you go down on her and don’t skip out on taking your time down there jj.”
“it opens her up. makes her relax her pelvic floor.”
“alrighty, noted. what else, chief?”
“talk her through it. you know how to do that?”
“damn right i do.” the blonde answers confidently.
“i dread to think what that poor girl has to hear.”
by the end of the conversation, you’re dripping. it’s not your fault — like you said, ovulation can be a real bitch. it gets to the point where you need to get up and walk around before you start humping the study bench, so you decide on strolling over to the water dispenser to refill your bottle that you’d been ravenously sipping down to attempt to quell your growing arousal. you also were feeling curious and wanted to get another look at your crush.
when you walked back with your freshly filled bottle, there he was in all his glory— berating his blonde friend in the hat to simply let him study. god he looked good, expensive. sitting comfortably in the booth in a white jacket, voice smooth and buttery and you couldn’t help but stare, your top set of teeth tugging at your glossy bottom lip. the pair of you lock eyes, but you can’t look away— neither can he. did you look flustered? could he tell you’d been listening? were you clammed up? could he sense the arousal seeping through your panties? you wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow could. he seemed like some sort of sex god.
he was none the wiser, and the rest was history — the boy having secured your phone number before you’d left the library.
after that, the two of you became inseparable. if you weren’t studying together or grabbing food (that he’d refuse to let you pay for) you were on the phone, ranting and raving about the people in your classes or the weird thing your professor said that day. there was chemistry, sure — a bond that you could only see heading towards a relationship. but with all the soft touches, the lingering looks from beneath your lashes, the tension — you were itching to take the next step. you’d desired him carnally from the day you met.
it’s a thursday evening, and pope has an exam the next day. a big one. you’d settled on hanging out via phone call whilst he studied, quickly getting on with your own business instead of getting to be at his side distracting him. it was for the best, and whilst you’d pouted at the promised temporary distance, you knew it was a good idea.
until night falls, and you’re laying on your bed — listening to the scribbling away of his pencil through the line. you sigh, a small smile dusting your face.
“you know, the day we met properly i’d kind of overheard one of your conversations.” he can tell you’re biting back a giggle, and with your joy infectious — he smiles too.
“yeah? did no one ever teach you that it’s rude to eavesdrop?” he teases and you let the giggle free, rolling back over to stare at the ceiling.
“s’not my fault! jj has a loud mouth.” you accuse lightheartedly and he hums in agreement, still scribbling away.
“that he does…” he finishes up what he’s writing before directing his attention back to the conversation. “so what exactly did you overhear?”
you bite your lip, recalling it. “well, it’s not exactly PG…”
his brows perk up in curiosity as his eyes flicker towards your contact image on his screen. “oh? i hope i didnt embarrass myself.”
“no, no not at all… i was intrigued.”
“well don’t leave me hanging.” he truly had no idea.
“you were giving jj…pointers. for the… bedroom.” you relay shyly, suddenly losing all your confidence. simply the memory of that day left your cunt fluttering, already lubricating itself.
“ah. i remember now.” he sounds tense, like he can’t tell how you feel about it. “not exactly an ideal topic for… the library, you know?”
“mhm… anyway, i was pretty impressed.”
you hear him smile, placing his pencil down all together. bingo.
“okay… and what exactly was it that impressed you might i ask?”
you suck in a shaky breath, hoping you don’t come across like some insane gooner all of a sudden. you’d say you’d done a good job at hiding your arousal for him in all the occasions you’d hung out.
“well… all of it. you seem to really know how to make a… make a girl feel good. probably better than i know how to— whatever.” you say the last part quietly, in disbelief that you were being so open. you were thinking with your pussy, you couldn’t help it.
he pauses, and for a split second you feel a wave of embarrassment. but then he speaks.
“at the risk of not sounding very humble, i’d say i have a good success rate.” he sounds so warm, so fond of you — it makes you feel comfortable enough to continue. “in the past—” he adds quickly. “i don’t… talk to any other girls but you now. don’t… don’t wanna…. touch any girl but you now. just to make that clear. you know.”
the tension is so thick and hot that it’s stifling all of a sudden and you’re not even infront of eachother. your mouth moves without your permission.
“…how?” he repeats, leaning back in his desk chair in his student apartment. it was times like these he was thankful he didn’t have a roommate. it was times like these you were grateful that yours had gone on vacation.
“how would you… touch me?” you’re so quiet that you’re surprised it picks up on the mic.
“uh, well… any way you’d like it. i think it’s important that sexual partners… communicate, and stuff you know? the guy should never be too proud to ask the girl what she likes. so… what do you like?” he licks his lips, staring straight at the wall.
“i… dont really know. i don’t have much experience. not good experience anyway.”
“thats okay—” he coo’s kindly as your voice overlaps once more with—
“— oh, no go ahead. what do you like sweetheart?” sweetheart. you squeeze your legs shut at the casual way it rolls off his tongue.
“…i think i’d like you to take the control… be the dominant one i guess. i like feeling…”
“taken care of?” he answers for you and you nod, before realising he can’t see you.
“well i am pretty confident that i can be that for you. like, one hundred percent confident. can do it just like you want it, pick you up, pull you down, turn you around… all that good stuff. it makes sense.”
you exhale, practically trembling as your legs fall open slightly, unable to stop yourself from trailing a hand down your stomach into your pyjama shorts.
“yeah. but that stuff comes later, i literally just wanna focus on learning your body first, you know? how to touch you. every pussy is different, not to be crass or anything. i think to answer your question i’d just lay you down and finger you nice n’ slow, figure out the basics. make you feel nice.” he lists it off so… normally. like it’s obvious to him.
you sigh, spreading your juices through your folds and forget to respond for a moment. that is until he says your name and you open your eyes.
“are you touching yourself? to my voice?”
you feel your face get hot, shame creeping up your neck. all you can squeak out is an “i’m sorry.” and he chuckles.
“you have nothing to apologise for. i’m riling you up and it’s not fair but by all means, continue. god i—” he sighs, and you hear him shuffling. what he’s really doing, is reaching down to palm at his erection through his sweatpants— exam long forgotten about. this has all his attention. “—i wanted to be all… respectful i guess. wait until the time was right, but… but i just wanna make you cum. so hard. so many times.” he lets loose a little, reaching down to pull his cock out. it’s then he hears it, that pretty pained whimper whilst you rub yourself— no holding back now.
“i’ve wanted you so bad from the day we first met. but — but wanted to be a good girl. show you i’m more than—”
“i know, and you are. you are. oh my god, screw this exam. i should be there. i’ll tell you what, okay — i’m gonna talk you through this orgasm, but i want you to remember how it feels to cum on your own fingers — ‘cause, well — that’s not gonna be happening anymore. it’s all me now, honey. all me.”
