#pope fluff

this party was just a stepping stone in the right direction; if you played your cards right, you might end up with a boyfriend by the end of the night. crowds of people started arriving at the party, you and kiara shared a enthusiastic high five, proud of the turn out. you keep your eyes out for pope, hopeful he approaches you first. you stand with a red solo cup in hand, swaying gently to the music, jj approached you first, “hey, nice party.” he chugs his solo, you laugh at his behavior, sure he’ll end up in bed with a hottie from the party. “thank you j, did you happen to come with pope?” he shakes his head, “no he had a few chores to do then he said he’d come.” you frown, hoping his chores wouldn’t take too long.

you found it more difficult to pass time when pope wasn’t by your side. you entertained yourself with kiara, following her around the party, greeting guests. only bothering because you were on the lookout for someone in particular. you become a little disappointed as it had already been almost an hour. the party was still thriving, the upbeat music blasting loudly as people yell drunkenly. you found a couch to sit on, distracting yourself in your phone. suddenly a body sits by you on the couch. you quickly look up, confused. a smile creeps on your face as you finally see pope. he’s ecstatic to have made it. “sorry i’m late, the party decor is awesome!” his compliment fulfills you, “thank you, i’m so glad you made it.”

“of course, i wouldn’t miss this for the world!” he continues to sit by you, taking in his scenery. “do you want a drink?” you ask. he hesitates but ultimately gives in. “let’s go!” you grab his arm and drag him through the party, looking for any alcohol. however, the alcohol was gone. only discovering empty bottles you shrug, “is that okay?” he laughs, “of course.” you two hesitate in front of the table, you recall what kiara had said earlier. “do you maybe wanna dance with me?” he chuckles, “yes!” you follow him out on the dance floor, the two of you jumping in the middle of the crowd. the music was motivating. you reach for his hands, holding them tight as you continued to dance.

a slower romantic song had been queued, everybody slowed down. you instantly cut the distance between the two of you, you put your arms around his neck, nestling your face in his chest. his arms hang around your waist. you sigh contently, peaceful in his arms. you lift your head to look at him, his pretty eyes locked on yours. the moment felt right, and if you didn’t do it today, when would you ever find the courage? you glance up at his eyes, to his lips, back to his eyes. after a few seconds you lean in and kiss him. with your eyes shut, grip tighter, you melt into his touch. he kisses you back, pulling you as close as he can. you stay kissing until you physically have to pull away for some air. the taste of him still on yours lips.

All because you had the nerve to turn down his constant advances, they all made it their sole mission to push you to the edge.

The only touch you wanted on you right now was Pope’s. You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding when you saw him, a bright smile on his face as listens to JJ tell some wild story, hands moving animatedly as he talks to the group.

They all turn to you when they hear you walking up, breaking their conversation with a round of greetings as you waved at them, “Hey guys.”

“How was work for the money maggots?”

You let out a small laugh, shrugging as you walk over to where Pope is sitting, sitting across his lap as his hand comes up to hold your thigh, thumb rubbing against your skin instinctively. The rest of the group took your silence as answer enough, getting the sense that today must’ve been an annoying one.

JJ smirked at you as he reached onto the hammock, grabbing a perfectly rolled blunt and handing it to you, “This is the good shit. Looks like you need it more than me.”

His words were laced in a playfulness, but you couldn’t help your throat from constricting because you did need it. You didn’t want to ruin the night by riling everyone up. That leads you to grab the blunt with a small thanks. You hold it to your lips, reaching for a lighter when Pope surprises you by flicking his own lighter, holding it to the other end of the blunt as you inhale.

Once it was lit, your eyes fluttered at the feeling of the first hit, the nerves leaving your body. With this blunt and Pope’s touch, you have everything you need to just forget about today — which is all you wanted to do.

But as the group continued with their prior conversations, voices loud as they laughed and joked around with each other, you felt yourself just fading away. You still felt a sense of humiliation at the memory of everyone looking at you, of people whispering as they pointed at you like you were some newbie on the job screwing things up, and of your boss admonishing you and telling you it was best to go home early.

You still felt Matt’s hand on you, sneaking touches and ignoring your outright threats if he didn’t leave you alone. You would have to go to the dry cleaners to clean up the stain of alcohol on your uniform. And on top of all of that, you were pissed.

You’re pissed that you had to work for these types of people just because the pay is better than what you could get on your side of the island. You’re even more pissed that these are the same people you’re supposed to be making connections with in order to hopefully benefit your status in the long run so you don't have to work for people like that.

But right now, you’re just angry at the fact that Rafe and his band of dickheads felt entitled to treat you the way they did with absolutely no consequences.

You were absentmindedly hitting the blunt as you leaned your head onto Pope’s shoulder, curling more into him as their voices faded into the background. On a normal occasion, you don’t like smoking right in front of Pope’s face, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to move away from him because you just needed to feel him right now.

He’d been placing small kisses on your head in between talking to the group, and you knew he would eventually ask what was wrong. You didn’t know if you would tell him or not. You’re not comfortable with lying, but you knew what his reaction would be and you knew his reaction wouldn’t change anything. This is your job, and this is the shit you deal with.

“..Y/N?”

John B breaks your train of thought, and you look over at him to see him looking at you with a mixture of confusion and concern. You sniffled, and it wasn’t until then that you realized you’d been crying. Sarah moves forward in her seat with John B, and you wipe the tears from your face as you feel a wave of embarrassment come over you. They were all here having a good time, and you just came here and started crying out of seemingly nowhere.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kiara asked, and you shake your head as you try to laugh.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I just..” You rub your eyes, trying to swallow the lump in your throat and stop more tears from falling. But it was like once they started coming, there was no stopping. You let out a small sob, burying your face into Pope’s neck. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Uh, Pope.”

The blond spoke awkwardly, and you could only imagine that he was rubbing the back of his neck in nerves. The rest of the group spoke in unison, “Shut up, JJ.”

You continue to cry into your boyfriend’s shoulder as he sits up more, taking the blunt from your hand and handing it off somewhere before he wraps his arms around you. You heard shuffling around you, all of the girls coming over to touch your knee or your shoulder as they spoke small words of comfort before walking off with the guys.

Pope didn’t say anything at first, running his hand up and down your back as the other continued to rub against your thigh. You released all of your emotions through your tears, wrapping your arm around his neck to pull him closer.

“Hey,” He softly spoke after a few minutes, tapping your leg to get your attention. “Hey, what happened?”

You didn’t respond, shaking your head into his shoulder as you tried to pull yourself together. Pope sighs, knowing he’s not gonna get anything out of you until you calm down. He sits back, pulling you closer by your thigh. You curl more into him, Pope’s hand coming to your waist to squeeze it was supposed to be comfort.

A sharp pain comes across your side, and you instinctively flinch from his touch. Pope’s movements are slow as he unwraps his arm from you, making you lean back on the chair as he leans forward and tugs on your shirt. You let him; knowing it’s a lot easier to just show him than to try to muster the will to tell him.

You feel his fingers graze your side, and then he’s up. He crouches down in front of you, angling you so you were directly facing him now as he held onto your knees.

“Y/N what the hell happened?”

Your face is still buried in your hands, and you feel Pope grab a hold on your wrists. He tries to keep his voice as even as he can, not wanting to push you or take the anger bubbling up inside of him at the sight of a bruise across your stomach out on you.

“Babe..” He breathes, “I know you’re upset right now. But I.. I need you to tell me what happened, okay?”

“My job happened!” You surprise him, throwing your hands away from your face exasperatedly. “It’s always my job. Having to serve a bunch of rich pricks who wouldn’t know what it’s like to live a d-day on the other side! Stupid dumb fucks who get off on torturing workers, I’m so sick of it!”

“Okay,” Pope replied, taking hold of your hands and rubbing soothing circles on them, waiting for you to continue. 

“Matt was there today,” You finally say, watching Pope’s face morph into understanding and then anger. “And Rafe and Topper and a f-few others and they were just…”

He points to your stomach, “Did they do that?”

“No,” You shake your head, wiping your face as you groan. “Rafe made me spill an entire tray of drinks all over my clothes and everyone was just looking at me like I was some idiot. And I went inside to get cleaned up… and I wasn’t watching where I was going and I k-knocked into a stupid chair and fell face first in front of the entire place — in front of my boss!”

“I’ve never been so fucking embarrassed,” You exclaim, and Pope takes his position in the chair again as he places you on top of him. He pulls you into his chest, kissing the top of your head and giving small responses to show he was listening. “They s-sent me back to redo their d-drinks a million times, sending me to get fucking towels and new golf balls because the way ones we gave them at first were faulty.”

“And Matt w-wouldn’t leave me alone,” You softly add, feeling Pope’s chest start to rise and fall more rapidly. “I kept telling him that I wasn’t interested and he just ignored me and kept grabbing my ass and making nasty ass remarks that made me want to shove the golf club up his ass.”

Pope lightly chuckles at the image of that, and you laugh through wiping your tears. He lifts your head so he can finish wiping your tears, kissing under your eyes as you smile at the comforting moment. This was what you needed. You loved the Pogues, but these are one of those days where you only needed to bask in Pope’s energy. 

“I hate working there,” You mumble. “But I can’t do anything else.”

“I know, it’s gonna be okay,” He says, letting you rest your head back on his chest. “You can leave that job at any point. I will take care of you.”

“Pope, you can’t take care of both of us.”

Even if he could, you wouldn’t let him. It wouldn’t feel right leaving all of the financial burdens on him just so you don’t have to deal with kooks. You tell yourself that you can handle it, but the thought of going to work tomorrow makes you nauseous.

“I would take care of you,” He emphasized. “Anything so you don’t have to deal with those dipshits.”

You sigh, feeling better now that you’ve talked about it. This isn’t how you wanted to spend the night. Wanting to ease the tension a little, you give him an innocent smile. “I know something you can do to help.”

He lifts an eyebrow as he gazes at you, “What’s that?”

Pope’s head tilts back in light laughter when you pucker your lips at him, shaking his head as he gives you a kiss.

He gives you a few more kisses, speaking in between them, “You’re so stupid.”

“That was all I could think about all day,” You sigh against your lips, eyes still closed as you let the feeling of calmness rush over you. He grabs your chin as he kisses you again, your eyes fluttering open.   “Just wanted to see you.”

“I’d come to work with you if I could.”

You laugh even though you know he’s completely serious, leaning into him again and resting your head on his chest. He runs his hand up and down your arm as he pulls you closer, the two of you sitting like that for a while.

Pope is the one to break the silence, “Feeling better?”

“Much,” You muse, kissing his clothed chest. “I love you. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for that,” You feel his chest rumble as he chuckles, kissing the top of your head again. “Just don’t be mad at me.”

“What..” You start to wonder, Pope grabbing your waist to lightly push you off of him so he could stand. It hits you when he starts walking off, seemingly on a mission, what he meant. You sigh; you don’t know why you didn’t think he wasn’t going to do anything.

“Pope!”

You call out as you follow him, Pope not answering you and instead hitting the screen door of the Chateau. He’s yelling as he walks off towards the Twinkie, “JJ! John B! Come on, now!”

John B and JJ come out quicker than expected, both sporting looks of confusion as they watch Pope walk off the yard.

“What’s up?” John B asked, looking between you and Pope.

Pope still doesn’t turn around as he says, “Kooks. Y/N. Let’s go.”

You roll your eyes, focusing on your friends as you give them a pleading look, “John B please tell him he’s being ridiculous-”

“I will leave without you!” Pope cuts you off to tell them, the duo following after him. You call out to them again, knowing your efforts are fruitless at this point. JJ turns to face you, still walking but backwards now.

“Sorry, Y/N. Pogue rules,” He lifts his hands in surrender, letting out an excited yelp as he turns back to job towards the Twinkie, “No one fucks with Y/N!”

You watch as they all climb in, hearing the screen door open as the girls make their way outside.

“Cleo-”

But she just shakes her head, grabbing you by the arms and coaxing you inside the house, “Come on girl, let the guys handle it.”

“Seriously. You being there would most likely only fuel Pope.” Kiara adds, giving you a look of comfort as she squeezed your hand. 

“Just hang out with us until they get back,” Sarah sang, holding the door open. “And we can have some girl time before we have to play doctor.”

•••

You all decided on watching a movie. You’re not sure why Sarah chose to watch the Shining of all things, but she insisted and none of you could decide on anything else to watch. The four of you curled up on the couch as the movie progressed, getting creepier by the minute.

The dissonance of the music increased, making an unsettling feeling form in your chest as you waited for some sort of jumpscare. Sarah’s hold tightened on your arm, Cleo hissing at the feeling of Sarah digging her nails in her arm with her other hand. Kiara was the only one saving face, but you felt her shift closer to you as the music picked up.

You cringed back as you waited for something to pop out, about ready to close your eyes at this point but not wanting to be the pussy of the group.

“Here’s Johnny!”

Someone bursts through the door, slamming on the wall at the force. The four of you screamed, the blanket thrown over you flailing around as you all become a mess of limbs as you attempt to flee from the couch. Sarah was the first to gather her breath as you all stood from the floor, glaring at JJ who just stood there laughing.

“What the hell, man!” Cleo exclaimed.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” Sarah breathed out, hand resting over her chest as she calmed her breathing.

JJ’s knees are weak as he laughs uncontrollably, shaking his head as his voice comes out higher, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Very funny,” Kiara scolds. She focuses more on her boyfriend’s face, walking to him and tilting his head up with her finger as she exhales. “Please tell me I should see the other guy.”

Sarah gasps as she sees the black eye John B is sporting, JJ matching it with a busted lip and bruised cheek. The only one who didn’t seem to be too harmed was Pope, but you couldn’t tell because he walked off to the bathroom the second he got inside.

“Oh, babe. You have no idea,” JJ gets a new wind, kissing her quickly before starting his story. “We’re driving around, right, Pope’s just asking everyone those douchebags were at. We’re not getting through to him at all— then we finally find out they’re all at the Island Club — shocker.”

“My man wasted no time!” JJ continues, but you’ve already started making your way down the hallway so his words start to fade out. “He just went in there and boom! Clocked Matt right in the chin..”

You get to the bathroom, knocking on it and giving Pope a timid smile. He doesn’t reciprocate it, wrapping his hand up in the tape. You let out a sigh, knowing he’s not gonna do it as tight as he needs to and that he didn’t even bother to clean his knuckles.

You push him towards the sink, reaching down to grab the disinfectant products and wipes. You undo his wrapping, cleaning off his knuckles. The two of you are silent as you work,  the only sounds being your breathing and the faded sounds of the Pogues in the living room.

“Are you gonna say anything?” Pope mumbles.

You finish wrapping his hand, taping it and grabbing a hold of his face so you can inspect it. Your eyes bounce around his face, only seeing a small lip bleed. You mutter, “I don’t like you getting into fights because of me.”

“Yeah and I don’t like my girlfriend coming home from work crying and bruised.”

Pope’s tone comes out harsh, but you know he’s still coming down from the adrenaline and that he had a reason to be frustrated. If it’s one thing you love about Pope it’s his passion; more specifically the passion he feels for the people he loves. Any injustice or disrespect doesn’t fly in his book, and you smirk at him.

“You kick his ass?” You ask, Pope finally breaking into a smile as he pulls you closer.

“Beat him to the floor,” Pope brags as his hands trail to the top of your ass, resting there. “Not gonna lie, the most exhilarating thing I’ve done so far this year.”

“Oh really?” You quirk an eyebrow, throwing your arms around his shoulder as you brush your lips against his.  “Want to do something more exhilarating?”

He smiles against your lips, about to press his lips against yours when he pauses.

“Hold that thought,” He holds a finger up, cracking the door open and peeking slightly out the window. You give a small laugh as your eyebrows pinch together in confusion.

“JJ?”

“Yeah?” You hear the blonde ask, breaking away from his own conversation with the group.

“I got the extra room tonight,” Pope calls back, and you give a small gasp as you hit his chest, his hand catching yours and holding it there. You knew it was too late to go back to your place, especially considering you guys planned on coming right back here tomorrow. But he could’ve been a little more discreet.

The blonde starts to ask, and you can imagine his head tilting to the side, making you laugh against Pope’s chest. “Why- alright, go ahead.”

Pope turns back to you, finally pulling you into a kiss. You try to deepen it, running your tongue along the bottom of his lip. Your tongue swipes against the cut on his lip, making Pope hiss as you pull back at the taste. You glare at him, your boyfriend only giving you a sheepish smile.

“Wanna kiss it better?”

“These perfect fuckin’ tits,” he says, reaching up to swipe the pad of each of his thumbs over your nipples.

When he says that, when he touches you there, your bubble suddenly bursts. Your smile instantly drops, and you wrap you arms around your torso, protecting yourself. Covering yourself. You know it’s silly to be insecure around him, but here you are. You still feel insecure no matter how much attention Santi lavishes on your chest, or how often he engages in loving -and sometimes unspeakable- acts involving them. You can’t get out of your head that your breasts are just too... small. 

Especially after something you overheard him say last night while the boys were round for fight night. Something you’re trying to forget.

Feeling dejected and gloomy, you roll off of him and huddle quietly under the blankets by his side, Santi looking entirely puzzled and mentally retracing his steps. 

“What did I say?” he asks, brow furrowing, his hand rasping over his stubbled jaw. “Dollar for the swear jar? That it?”

“No... I just. I’m not feeling good about my tits today, okay?” You tug the blanket up and tuck it firmly beneath your armpits.

Santi props himself up on his elbow and turns on to his side, leaning over you in concern.

“Why the fuck not?” he asks, his tone a lot more abrasive than he intended.

A swear jar would make you rich, you realise.You file that for later.

“I just... they’re too small.”

Santi looks at you as though you’re talking utter nonsense.

“Too small for what?” he asks, thoroughly confounded, and his eyebrows shooting up. 

“For you,” you say softly, your voice hollowed out, tears of insecurity balling in your eyes as your stare fixes on the ceiling.

“Hold up. Your tits are fuckin’ glorious. Did I do something to make you think...”

You interupt him with a long, self-pitying sigh.

“No. You’re always nice about them, I just. Wouldn’t you prefer some heaving, bouncing bazungas? Some massive, juicy tits to slap you about the face or rest your head on like a pillow or...”

You look at him and you can see him trying his utmost to quell his amusement at the phrase “bouncing bazungas”. He does his best, bless him, but a snicker sneaks past him lips. You throw him a half-serious scowl in response and tighten your grip on the blanket.  

“Honey. I’ve gone this long without being slapped about the face, I think I’ll manage.”

“Manage,” you repeat dejectedly through your teeth, the word barely audible. You don’t want him to manage. To settle.

Santi scrubs the smirk from his face when your mood still refuses to lighten, and instead he changes tack, gently tugging at the duvet which you still clench securely to your chest.

“Let me see ‘em then. Remind me what I’m working with? Please?”

You let him ease the blanket down inch by inch over your chest, and the mere sight of your breasts has a gulp bobbing down his throat. Has his tongue darting out over his lower lip. If only you could realise how much he loves them, but you are blind to it.

“These tits?” he says, as his fingertips gently stroke over your chest. “These hot little things, with these sweet, delicious little nipples? Soft under my hand?”

His touch is gentle, tender, as he brushes his fingertips over every inch of your breasts, around the softer skin at your nipple, over the hardened, sensitive pebble at the peak of you.

“Yeah. Exactly like I said,” he confirms. “These are perfect fuckin’ tits. Beautiful, hermosa. Perfect shape. Perfect size. Perfect to look at. To feel. With my fingers or my mouth. Perfect to..” his lips quirk into a smile and his eyebrow ticks up suggestively as he weighs up how crude to be so early on a morning. “... do things to... or on.”

His gaze becomes hungry as he thinks through the possibilities, but he behaves himself. Focusses on staring at the contours of you as though they are positively artful.

“You mean it?” you say, still glum and disbelieving. 

“Yes, baby.” Santi says sincerely, and now he has to try hard to tear his eyes away from your chest and look you in the eye. “Lucky that your breasts are small and humble, so I don’t confuse them with moutains,” he adds with a playful smirk, dipping to kiss the tip of your nose.

You scoff at the Shakira lyric and bat him playfully on the arm again. He looks happy to have teased a smile from you. Yet, he’s still not quite satisfied. He wants to root out any remaining insecurity. He hates to see you down on yourself, especially when he knows how entirely perfect you are. “What brought this on though, baby? You wanna talk about it?”

You nibble on your lower lip and stare at the ceiling again. You may as well just come clean. “I overheard you talking in the kitchen with the boys. And... and Benny said he was an ass man and you...”

Realisation dawns on Santi’s face as you speak. “I said I was a boob man,” he nods.

You look back at him and nod softly in return, as his fingertips gently trace nonsense shapes into your skin. You shrug, as if that’s the end of it. As if he’s been found out a liar, because how could these be enough for him if that is the case?

“Honey, holy shit, that’s hilarious,” Santi says, openly laughing at you now.

You scowl at him in offense this time. “It’s not funny!”

“No, honey. It is. Because I was never a boob man. Not until I met you.”

Oh. Oh well. That is kinda funny.

You whip your head towards him to examine his handsome face for sincerity, but he looks entirely truthful. As honest as he ever does when he tells you how beautiful you are to him. You suppose you should believe him when he tells you how much he loves your breasts. When he tells you how much he thought about them when you first started dating, and before. About how much he loves to do things to them and how good it makes you feel when he does. And, if nothing else, you should hold on to the simple fact that Santi loves them because they’re a part of you, and he loves everything about you, inside and out.

“Really?” you say, your insecurities finally beginning to ebb away, a smile beginning to split your face. 

Santi nods. “What did I tell you, baby? Perfect. Perfect fuckin’ tits.” His eyes dip to admire them all over again.

your eyes followed the voice and landed on a boy that looked to be around your age, cup grasped firmly in his hand despite his sober demeanor. you could tell he wasn’t drunk, which surprised you but also brought you a sense of relief. he didn’t have any fraternity memorabilia, not a single greek letter anywhere on him, which was slightly confusing but definitely not disappointing. 

you’d never seen him before, you were sure. you would’ve given him a second glance on any day, using the faded print on his hat as an excuse as to why you were looking a little longer than what was deemed appropriate in a glance. 

“i’m on mom duty for the night and i lost my child.” the boy laughed softly, raising his cup to his lips as he closed the distance between the two of you, only to face the same direction you were facing. 

“which one’s yours?” you laughed gently, feeling like two single parents on the bench of a playground while the looked for their toddlers. though it didn’t feel much different, looking for your drunk friends. 

“her name’s morgan. she-”

“freeman?” the boy gasped playfully, only to earn an eye roll and a soft shove from you. “sorry, sorry, i couldn’t help myself. morgan, though? she’s pretty tall, probably 6′ but refuses to say anything about 5′11?” your eyebrows pulled together in confusion, something that the boy picked up on easily. 

“she was in my intro to forensics class last semester. we study together sometimes.” you let out a noise of realization as you nodded slowly, deciding maybe this guy wasn’t some stalker that happened to know everything about your friend for no real reason. 

“well, she’s my roommate and my best friend, unfortunately.” the boy’s eyes lit up, a smile stretching across his lips at the newfound information. 

“you’re y/n then?” 

you’d never loved the sound of your name more than you did when it fell off of his tongue. the lilt in his voice gave you a head rush and goosebumps all at the same time. you felt yourself nodding, letting him know that that was your name and you hadn’t forgotten, though you were sure you would have had he not told you seconds prior. 

“i’m pope.” he held out a hand, the one that wasn’t gripping a cup filled with whatever he chose to get him through a party sober. his skin was soft, though you tried to not focus on that. 

his eyes were soft, holding a sense of comfortability in them. you didn’t know who this person was, despite the few facts you’d picked up on in the short conversation you’d had with him, but you wanted to know more, that much you knew. 

“well, pope. since we can’t find my child at the moment, which one’s yours?” he hummed softly, shifting his weight from the balls of his feet to his heels, and back again. 

“jj maybank.” you hissed softly, watching pope’s lips turn up in a wide smile at your reaction. 

you let out a soft laugh, smiling brightly when pope’s followed soon after. he was beautiful, truly. his laugh filled your senses, somehow taking over every thought that previously inhabited your mind. everything was replaced with the boy in front of you, smiling, laughing and talking with you. 

“you’ve got a long night ahead of you then.” pope nodded, clicking his tongue softly in anticipation to see what the night offered him. 

he’d babysat jj more times than he could count, which is something he told you shortly after. he’d grown up with the mischievous boy, both of them taking their turns of pulling the other out of trouble. he told you about their third, john b, who didn’t go to school here. 

jj was here on a soccer scholarship, pope an academic, though that didn’t surprise you. the way he spoke alluded to his intelligence, and you remembered hearing morgan mention the name ‘pope’ a few times while she spoke about study group. you faintly remember the term ‘genius’ being attached to his name in most of morgan’s stories about the boy, though you weren’t sure if that was because of his intellect or morgan’s ability to expertly exaggerate one’s self. 

they were in the same major, you learned quickly. and because you had never seen pope before, you were surprised to hear that he’d been to your apartment a few times for morgan to grab her things. you had been out every time, and now pope found himself upset about it. you’d just missed each other multiple times before tonight, and pope would be damned if he let it happen again. 

“y/n! there you are!” you and pope both turned at the sound of morgan’s voice, facing the girl who could barely stand straight. 

pope offered to take your drink while you reached for morgan’s frame, holding her up to the best of your abilities. she sighed in content, folding into you more than you would’ve wished for, but you held her up nonetheless. 

“pope!” morgan smiled widely when she realized her friend from class was standing just a few feet away from her. they’d kept in touch loosely, studying for a class they were both taking when need be. 

“hi morgan.” pope smiled politely, now gripping onto one cup in each of his hands while he watched the two of you, making sure he didn’t need to swoop in and hold morgan up in your place. 

“pope! my main man!” and just like that, both of the sober parents had found their drunk toddlers without moving a single muscle. 

jj came stumbling towards the two of you, clapping a hand onto pope’s shoulder before smiling at you and morgan. his eyes lingered on morgan for a moment longer than they had with you, which earned a nudge to the ribs, courtesy of pope’s elbow. 

“this is morgan and y/n.” pope introduced you quickly, to which you two finger saluted jj, keeping morgan tight against you so her friendly drunk persona wouldn’t step towards the blond. 

“nice to meet you, morgan and y/n.” you looked at pope quickly, rolling your eyes at the tone in jj’s voice. pope snickered, looking back at your two friends that were clearly ogling at each other. 

“do you guys need a ride home?” you sighed but shook your head, not wanting to be a bother to the beautiful boy and his already drunk friend. 

“no, that’s okay. it’s not a far walk-”

“y/n/n, i don’t want to walk.” morgan whined loudly, earning a soft snicker from pope while you rolled your eyes exaggeratedly. 

“you promised you were fine walking tonight, morg. you swore you wouldn’t make me call an uber.” morgan smiled at you, doing her best puppy eyes while batting her eyelashes in your direction. 

“it’s really no bother. i’ve gotta drop jj off anyways, and he’s right around the corner from y’all.” you bit on the inside of your cheek, a voice ticking in the back of your head telling you that you’d bother the boy by accepting. 

“c’mon, y/n/n. popie’s nice.” you scoffed at the dumb nickname that morgan gave the boy, not missing the way he cringed at the sound of it.

“okay, okay. thank you, pope.” 

he waved you off gently, telling you again that it wasn’t a big deal. he made sure to rope jj in to leaving, discarding both of your cups in a nearby trashcan, ignoring jj’s comment about ‘kie would be furious with you’. you raised an eyebrow at pope, silently questioning what that meant, earning a ‘old friend. big environmentalist’ in response. 

you clung to morgan the entire way back to pope’s car, thanking him when he opened the back door for you to be able to shove her into the backseat. you sat in the back with her and felt her slump against you within seconds of leaving the house party. 

you complimented pope’s music taste after a few songs, sparking a quick conversation about the few songs you’d heard on the ride. you knew all of them, having a few of them on your own playlists. 

you were ignoring jj’s sly looks between you and his best friend, opting to focus solely on pope and on neither of your drunk friends. though, that proved to be harder than expected when morgan started to deadweight you after pope had pulled up to your apartment complex. 

“morgan, i can’t carry you up ten flights.” morgan groaned loudly, pushing you off of her. 

it didn’t take long for pope to offer up his help, claiming that he could lock jj in his car without much thought towards him being alright. jj would survive, according to pope, for the time being. of course, you denied him the first few times he offered, but when he asked once more, after morgan had gotten dangerously close to falling asleep, he unbuckled his seat belt. 

it took pope all of twenty seconds to swing morgan’s door open and lift her out of the car. she would be mortified the next time she saw pope, but you had exhausted every option in your mind. pope didn’t mind, finding excitement in being able to spend a few extra minutes with you, even if it was because he was carrying your drunk roommate up to your apartment. 

the walk was mainly silent, apart from the few times morgan would thank pope for carrying her, with a quick thanks thrown in your direction for holding her shoes. you and pope would laugh, and you’d smile at pope’s sweet ‘it’s no problem, morg’. 

you’d share side glances and bright smiles, but neither of you dared to break the silence. every giggle that threatened to bubble out was suppressed, either by self restraint or the back of your hand pressing against your lips. you’d lift your elbow gently into his side, filling the void of not being able to brush your hand gently against his due to his holding up your best friend. 

it wasn’t until the two of you put morgan to bed that you made time for the two of you, walking the short distance from her bed to the front door in a comfortable silence. 

“thank you, again.” he stood in front of your door, hands folded into each other while he smiled and nodded towards you. 

“it was nothing, really. if she ever needs an escort, i’m a call away.” you flashed him a bright smile and a simple nod while you shifted your weight from your heels to the balls of your feet. 

“i guess i should grab your number then. you know, in case morgan ever needs a lift upstairs.” you shrugged gently, not missing the wide smile that stretched across pope’s lips before he held his hand out, palm facing upwards. 

“that was smooth, i’ll admit it.” you laughed gently, watching him punch in his phone number before texting himself. “now you have to use it.” he winked at you while slipping your phone back into your own hand. 

“i’ll be sure to do that.” he nodded again, waving off your hundredth thanks of the night and reached for the doorknob. 

“have a good night, y/n.” he leaned forward, closing the small gap between the two of you by placing a kiss on your forehead before walking into the hallway.

he walked backwards, smiling just in time for you to stick your head out of the doorway and wave at him, fingers wiggling in a wave that had him swooning. you yelled out a gentle ‘goodnight’ just before he opened the door to the stairwell and disappeared. 

you laid in bed ten minutes later, grinning up at the ceiling above you with thoughts of pope swimming through your mind when your phone buzzed on your nightstand. 

pope♥ : i’m starting to think that babysitting jj isn’t so bad