Pope Heyward Imagines

waves of change | smut warning!

Pope Heyward stood at the edge of the dock, staring out at the horizon. Life had been complicated lately. The treasure hunt, his friends, everything seemed to pull him in different directions. Today, though, he was taking a break. As much as he loved his friends, being around them all the time made it hard to think clearly. That's when he noticed her—a girl standing by the beach house, leaning against a railing, her eyes locked onto his.

She was unmistakably a Kook. Her effortless style, from her perfectly tousled hair to the designer clothes, gave her away. Yet, something about her caught his attention. She didn't look like the judgmental, elite types Pope had grown to dislike. She had an air of confidence and mystery, and he couldn't shake the feeling she was watching him, too.

Eventually, their paths crossed when she approached him at the docks.

"Hey, you're Pope, right?" Her voice was smooth, almost teasing.

Pope raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. And you are?"

"Y/N," she replied, with a half-smile. "I've seen you around with the Pogues."

Pope nodded, unsure of where this was going. Kooks didn't usually mix with Pogues unless they had an ulterior motive.

"I'm not like the others," she said, as if reading his mind. "Trust me."

Curiosity got the better of him. "Okay, so what's your deal?"

She shrugged, her eyes sparkling with something he couldn't quite place. "Let's just say... I've been through my share of experiences."

Pope wasn't naïve, but he couldn't help the nervous flutter in his stomach. He had never been the most confident when it came to relationships or even flirting. But there was something about Y/N that drew him in.

Over the next few days, they started hanging out more. What began as chance encounters turned into secretive walks on the beach, late-night talks under the stars, and deep conversations where Y/N revealed more about herself. She was different from the typical Kook girls he had met. She didn't care about appearances or money. She was unapologetically herself—bold, confident, and open about her desires.

One evening, as they sat on the sand watching the waves, Y/N turned to him. "You're holding back."

Pope's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

She leaned in closer, her gaze piercing. "You're smart, Pope. You're ambitious, and you've got this intensity about you. But you're holding something back... with me."

He swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. "I'm just... not as experienced as you, I guess."

Y/N smiled softly, surprising him with her gentleness. "It's not about experience. It's about connection. You and I... we're different, but we understand each other."

Pope felt the tension between them grow. The weight of everything he'd been through—the danger, the treasure, his friends—all seemed to fade away in that moment. It was just him and her. She moved closer, her lips brushing against his. His breath caught in his throat, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he kissed her back, letting go of his insecurities and doubts.

The air between them was charged, the unspoken tension building with every glance and lingering touch. Y/N smirked, looking at him with those teasing eyes of hers.

"You don't have to be afraid with me. I promise," she said, voice low, her fingers lightly tracing his arm.

Pope swallowed, heart racing. The desire to keep things simple was at war with the new sensations she awakened in him. He felt a surge of boldness, something he'd never been able to express fully until now, around her.