you’d sent dbf!pope some… pictures.
not just any old pictures, and even when he saw the notifications stating you’d texted him ‘10 attachments’, he was more curious than he was nervous or apprehensive. he thought he’d developed that trust in you not to act a fool when he was in your house. with your father home.
you see, you’d gone shopping that day. feeling especially daring, you’d snapped some pictures. at first seemingly innocent— ones in the mirror wearing your little sundress, smiling through the screen. but quickly, clothes come off and soon you’re pushing your barely covered tits together like a pornstar or spreading your legs, showing off that very obvious wet spot in your panties. that spot pope knew all too well.
considering you could hear him downstairs with your father all evening, you’d expected him to leave you on read the way he did. he was your fathers best yet youngest researcher at his company, and as men do — your father not really having any real ‘friends’ before that, they’d gotten to be pretty close, your man of interest showing face at your house nearly every day now.
hours later, you finally heard the familiar footsteps coming up the stairs. at first they were quiet and careful, but became pretty thunderous the closer they got. as expected, you’re innocently waiting on the edge of the bed with your hands on your lap with a smile.
“no, okay. don’t look at me like that. are you crazy?” pope looks pissed, folding his arms after closing the door gently behind him. you tilt your head faux-innocently, and it’s pretty out of character. you were usually a very sweet girl, a tease — yes, he can admit. but not this mischievous. it unfortunately didnt take this kind of behaviour to get him naked the first time.
“you didn’t like the pictures?” you mewl and he purses his lips.
“you know i liked them. what i don’t like — okay, is you sending me this shit whilst i’m downstairs with your dad.” he whisper-yells the last part, storming right up to you with his phone in his hand.
“but im gonna guess he’s passed out with a beer in his hand right now… right?” there’s a twinkle in your eye. one that told him you really didn’t care about the scolding. he breathes heavily, staring down at where you sit. the eye contact is hot and heavy, and after a moment he gives in— grabbing your head to meet him halfway for a pissed off kiss.
he exhales out his nose like it’s relief to relieve that tension, pushing you to lie back on the bed with a little more force than he was used to— but today he felt you deserved it. you wanted to be a brat? he’d treat you like one.
“just so you know, i am so against this. this is so wrong.” he pants as he rips your skirt down, worried words contradicting his actions.
“mhm.” you dismiss, not really taking him in.
“no really. this is like, life ruining. do you understand?” he’s suddenly gripping your cheeks with one hand, getting you to stare into his eyes. he’s so pretty you go into a bit of a daze, but nod dumbly regardless. “good.” he lets go, before pushing up and beginning to hastily undo his belt. “i’d say it’s only fair you… pay for what you did, right? show me you’re sorry?” he raises his brows, lines in his forehead from the impending age.
“anything you want mr popey.” you’re totally game, giggling as you reposition yourself to be on your knees, ready to repent with your mouth. popes eyes flit over to the lingerie store bag on the ground in the corner, and being the kind of guy he is — his heart aches a little at the effort you put into impressing him. he couldn’t help it. he was a softie.
“hey, if we have time afterwards. you can show me the stuff you picked up today. deal?”
“deal!”
