about me! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.
⋆.˚✮ Grace, she/her
࣪ ִֶָ☾. 22
.ᯓ➤ pedro pascal ♡
✧˖°. libra ⋆ hufflepuff ⋆ marvel ⋆ enneagram 2w1 ⋆ INFP ⋆ chaotic good
✦•┈๑⋅⋯⚚ ok love you, bye!
all dividers by @saradika-graphics
PEDRO PASCAL MAIN MASTERLIST
THE PITT MASTERLIST
MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE MASTERLIST
HUGH JACKMAN MAIN MASTERLIST (coming soon!)
OTHERS!
DOCTOR WHO
SERIES:
WHERE DO WE GO NOW? - (ONGOING)
An old face returns, a spaceship falls from the skies, and you thought you had moved on with that part of your life.
TIM ROCKFORD
ONE SHOT:
NO BODY, NO CRIME
You investigate a series of murders and the disappearance of your friend, Este. Suspecting Este's husband, Adam, you take matters into your own hands, orchestrating a scheme to frame him for the crimes as you hide the truth from your boyfriend-Detective Tim Rockford.
Follow Up to:
The Loophole: Dark Wedding
A Solstice Sacrifice
The Debut
Little Bite One: Spend. His. Money.
Mating Rituals
Little Bite Two: The Nightmare
A Danforth Wedding Tradition
Little Bite Three: The Twins, 2000
Little Bite Four: White Feather Hawk Tail Deer Hunter
Summary: Titus takes you on a private Babymoon to his family's England estate, the place where the Danforth's first met Mr. Le Bail. But in the dark corners awaits an old foe ready to get what they think they're owed.
Tags: age gap, pregnancy talk (not explicit but i know not everyone is into that), graphic violence, attempted murder/threats on reader's life, Priscilla gets her own warning lol, murder!, so much blood!, stabbing!, sex in the woods!, choking!, sex covered in blood (again lol), slapping, rough sex, daddy kink!, subby titus, and then kinda dommy titus lol, mommy stuff mentioned but explicit, mentions of other sexual situations, non-con voyerism idk how to describe it but priscilla is a creep who watches...., so i guess also stalking, idk!, fluff!!!!, HAPPY ENDING!!!
A/N: guys this is the FINAL PART!!!!!!! :((((((( but it's been such a fun journey, i love all of y'all for coming with me!!!!! Now let's kill Priscilla lol that's not really a spoiler y'all know it needed to happen ;) almost 19K words...
AO3 Link if that's your preference.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Priscilla Cavendish is not used to being rejected.
Her family, though not members of the High Council, has been given a relatively privileged life thanks to the gifts of Mr. Le Bail, and she has spent her whole existence reaping those benefits.
She got every car, horse, designer dress, and vacation her heart desired. She wanted to go to a prestigious school? Her parents bought a library and she never had to fill out application. She wanted to be head Cheerleader? No other girl would dare challenge her anyway. Boys and Men? She’s tall and gorgeous and thin and rich, why would anyone ever say no to her?
They didn’t. That’s the thing. She got everything and everyone she ever wanted.
Titus Danforth was not an exception. For many years, he was not an exception. Sure, there were times where even she got tired and bored of his bratty behavior, times where they’d break up and she’d find some other toy to play with, but she was always able to grab his attention again.
This last break up was a little more...definitive than others, sure. Annoyed at his lack of commitment, as she usually was, Priscilla decided to try her luck with Ignacio El Caido instead.
He was a widower who lived the fast life, and was on the High Council as well, so she figured he’d be an easy mark. They hooked up a few times, he bragged to Titus about it, but instead of awakening any sort of jealousy in the man, Titus Danforth simply laughed and wished them both good luck.
Needless to say Priscilla was livid. He didn’t care at all. She’d spent so much time trying to get her hand on the Danforth name, and he only ever saw her as a hobby. The things she did for him too, sexually. She lived up to almost every weird appetite of his, in ways she knows his other flings would never dare to, and still he threw her out.
And then came you.
First, you encroach on Francensca’s territory by stealing Alex Le Domas, and you don’t even have the decency to die during Hide and Seek. Then, you fucking steal Titus Danforth right out of bachelor life because? What? You’re young and pretty and in a desperate spot?
Priscilla will never understand what he sees in you. Sure, you suffer from some similar mental psychopathy that he does, but you’re...you’re an outsider. Mr. Le Bail tried to kill you twice.
Maybe you’re some sort of witch and you’ve cast a spell over Titus. Whatever you are, she will never accept that you’ve won. In her mind, you haven’t.
This is just a pause. Time to recover after hours of plastic surgery to prevent scarring from where you’d smashed her face with glass, like some deranged gremlin. She’s waited patiently, face bandaged until her beauty returned, holed up in her family’s old country estate in England.
She read that article about Felicity and Fitz’s deaths, anger rippling through her chest. A drunk driving accident? Sure. She knows what happens after a Danforth wedding. Priscilla just knows you’re the reason she’s lost another ally in that family.
And now you’re with child. A halfway unworthy spawn of a girl with no important name, no important family, will one day rule this world?
No. Not if she can help it.
Not when she finds out the two of you will be coming right to her.
+
+
+
They call it a Babymoon.
From what you’ve read, most people save it for a month before the baby is due, but of course Titus Danforth has to go above and beyond for you.
After all, you are carrying the next set of Danforth Twins.
So, at only just under four months along, he whisks you away on the private jet to the family’s oldest home in the countryside of England. The little castle where everything began.
You told him he didn’t need to take you on any trips yet, he’d already given you enough gifts to celebrate your pregnancy. From an entire new yet-to-be-released designer maternity wardrobe, to an in-house personal chef to specially make all of your meals, to a revamped 1960 pink Cadillac, Titus has not been stingy on spoiling you.
Your morning sickness has mostly subsided, so the travel wasn’t so bad. You have a little soreness, but so far everything is going easy. Titus doted on you the whole ride over, giving you orgasms and kisses to your little bump.
“Sorry to interrupt, sir, but we will be making our descent in just under an hour,” the captain’s voice said over the intercom.
You sat up from where you’d been laying on Titus’s lap, a pout graces your face as you look at the door, like you’d be able to frown at the pilot through it. At least this jet had a private bedroom for you to enjoy your flight at all.
“Darn, it was just about to get good,” you sigh, “Well, good again.”
Titus looks up at you with a smirk. “He said an hour, Baby, that’s plenty of time to go one more round.”
“Hmmm, I guess we should enjoy our free time while we can,” you purred, laying your body back down over his, grinding your hips down into his lap. Titus’s hands fly to your ass, grabing you hard and moving you at a slow pace. “Once they arrive, we might be too busy for each other for a while.”
“I’ll never be too busy for you, Little Lamb,” Titus grunts, breath coming out in short huffs, cock already stirring again. “We’ll hire a nanny just to look after them whenever I need to fuck the shit out of you. You know, so we’re not disturbed.”
You snort. “That’s ridiculous,” you say as you giggle into your next kiss.
“You’re right, we’ll make Ursula do it,” Titus says, flipping you over onto your back. His hand slides down to your tummy, then past your bump to pull at the bottom of your dress.
You shiver as his thick fingers press to the skin on your inner thigh, and you grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself, eyes closing and mouth dropping open. Your voice is breathless and higher when you continue teasing him. “You wouldn’t let them be left with some stranger, anyway.”
“Fuck no,” Titus grunts, teeth grazing your neck.
He wasn’t raised by nannies, not really. Violet and Chester paid for the best tutors and coaches that money could buy, but the Danforth children were never left to learn their important life lessons from random European women.
Not until Violet died, but by ten years old they didn’t need to be watched all the time, and were old enough for boarding school. So that’s what Chester did. He sent them off to school, and when they were home he made sure to be the one instilling his believes and life lessons in them, no matter how cold those lessons were.
“Of course not,” your voice breaks into a whine when you feel his fingers at your folds, and your legs spread for him. “They’re going to be all yours,” your voice is light, “just like me,” and you nudge him into a kiss.
His breath is swallowed into your moans, as his fingers enter you slowly, thumb rubbing circles on your clit. Titus’s warm body ruts against yours, cock rubbing deliciously against your thigh. “Yeah, Baby, ‘d do anything for you, for all of you.”
“Hmm, I know,” you sigh, rolling your hips down onto his fingers, the wet squelch sending a rush of pleasure up your spine. “You’ll be such a good Daddy.”
Suddenly, Titus lets out a low, stuttered groan, and his movements stop as his eyes roll back. “Shit, Baby.”
You feel a patch of wetness against your thigh and your eyes go wide with a shocked smile. “Did you just...”
Titus doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed. “Okay, you can’t ever call me that in front of other people.” His fingers are still inside you, and he flexes them in that way that drives you crazy. “Gimmie a minute, Baby.”
You start to giggle, laying kisses to his cheek. “Or what, Daddy?”
“Fuck,” Titus groans, dick twitching slowly back to life in his pants. “Keep going like that and I’ll be able to fuck you again real soon...”
When he’s finally able to get it up again, he lasts all of two minutes inside you. After the first “Fuck me so good, Daddy,” he’s a goner.
+
The Danforth Castle, which has been in Titus’s family for centuries, sits along a river, hidden away in a vast wood, in Suffolk England. The area is remote and quiet, but almost never empty, various members of the Danforth family staying in its expansive halls throughout the year. There’s also live-in staff, of course, some grounds keepers, and minor security.
None of the family are going to be staying there right now, however, and the staff has been briefed already on staying hidden. Titus wants you to have your privacy, with absolutely no stress from nosy family.
The halls of the castle are made of old dark grey stone, which have been finished and refinished over the decades to accommodate updating technology, electricity, and all that. They’re lined with old paintings, family portraits, weapons, taxidermy animal heads, and statues of armor. You feel like you’re on some movie set about Tudor era England.
There’s a cold air that passes around you, not eerie but rather an echo of how old the building is. Your feet make a clacking sound that bounces off the stone as you’re led into a great foyer, brightly lit by tall stained-glass windows that arch all the way up to the ceiling.
You’re not looking at Titus as he watches with a proud smirk the way your eyes go wide and your mouth drops open. A row of butlers whisk passed you with your bags, and three maids wait at the bottom of a winding staircase with warm smiles.
They’re the ones who’ve been here the longest, the ones who have watched Titus grow up, the ones who have been at the mercy of his brutish ways and attitude many times, and the ones who were relieved when they heard he fell in love with someone who apparently tamed him. Of course, you haven’t really tamed anything, just given him something to channel all obsession into, a reason to be just a little nicer.
“Master Titus, it’s so lovely to have you back here,” one of the maids, and older woman with short white hair greets. She smiles at you, bowing her head just slightly. “And you must be Mrs. Danforth, it’s wonderful to finally meet the new Mistress, I’m Winnie, the head of the house.” Her eyes fall to your belly, where your bump is a just barely visible swell under your dress. “You are simply glowing.”
“Thank you, Winnie, it’s so nice to meet you,” you say, shaking her hand.
She introduces you to the other maids, and then leads you two up the stairs to the Master Suite. It hasn’t been stayed in by any other members of the family since Chester’s last visit, but now it is rightfully yours.
Again, a movie set comes to mind. Where your old fashioned Estate in Rhode Island looks like a classic americana turn of the century mansion, the Master Suite of this Castle looks like something Queen Elizabeth would live in.
Winnie and the other maids roll in a cart and pour you some fresh tea, something to settle your stomach and calm the babies after the flight, and then leave the two of you to decompress.
Titus helps you out of your coat, and you let out a relieved groan as you flop down on your back on the bed. You stare up at the ceiling, arms outstretched on the satin sheets, as you breathe in the scent of old wood.
“So...” you say, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at your husband. “Just how haunted is this place?”
Titus snorts, shrugging off his own jacket to leave himself in just a white button up, and he starts to roll up the sleeves as he approaches the bed. “Pretty fucking haunted, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen any ghosts.”
“But you’ve heard them?” you ask, scooting over to make room for him to lay at your side.
His hand goes to your stomach, fingers softly spreading out. “Oh sure, all kinds of creaks in the floorboards and wind moaning through the walls. Winnie used to bust me sneaking around at night trying to catch a specter.”
You let out a small giggle. “I can picture it. Little baby Titus with crooked teeth and mischievous eyes, hiding in all the dark corners...you probably just scared the staff half to death.”
“Hmm, well, I was just practicing,” he says. “You know for later when I’d have to hunt down and kill all these people who try to get into our family.”
Or, even better, the ones he now hunts down to sacrifice for each season. The Spring Equinox hunt had been especially riveting, since the chosen sacrifice was the Priest who’d told Felicity your business about the mating ritual. Titus had taken immense pleasure from breaking each bone in his body before bringing him to the Black Temple for the sacrifice. He even cut out the man’s tongue and burned it in the fire.
Titus shifts down the bed, lowering himself so he can kiss your stomach. One of your hands immediately goes to his hair, twisting your fingers into his soft, silver curls. “You know,” he starts, “This is where it all began for my family. It wasn’t always a castle, though, it started as a small cottage. It’s said Mr. Le Bail walked out of the darkness of the woods, while our ancestor was hunting down a bear or a wolf or something, and he asked if he could join in on the fun.”
You haven’t actually heard this story before, even though you assumed Mr. Le Bail had been a patron of the family for a very long time.
“They caught the creature together, killed it, slit its throat and all that, and Mr. Le Bail had such a fun time, that he offered The Deal. Our family would sell their souls to him, play his games when needed, and he would give them all the riches and the power in the world. They didn’t have much, so they agreed. Built this up, expanded into High Society and all that, and here we are.
The part of the woods they met in is still marked off, my great grandfather or whatever had some stone memorial made for it.”
“I want to see,” you say.
Titus smirks as he presses his lips to your belly again. “Of course you do, and you should. Mr. Le Bail’s favorite should get to see where it all began.”
You squirm a little at the comment. There had been a short time where you didn’t think Mr. Le Bail cared anymore about the one person who outsmarted his games twice. But then you remember how his hands had been on you, how his eyes had seared into yours from where they appeared in flames, how soft his lips were when he kissed your face...Titus has no idea just how favored you are.
“Tomorrow, will you take me on a tour of the grounds then?”
“I don’t want to tire you out, you shouldn’t be on your feet for too lo—”
“Titus,” you whine. “I’m not that far along, I’m still perfectly mobile. At least take me to the memorial, or I’ll just run out there and take myself.”
His body freezes up, hand tensing where it lays on your stomach. “Little Lamb...I’ll take you, but you need to promise me you’ll be good, don’t exert yourself.”
“Oh, okay,” you say, rolling your eyes. “So it’s okay to exert myself on the jet while you make me come like, ten times in a row, but I can’t just go on a nice walk in the woods anymore? How does that make sense?”
“Are you saying you didn’t like that?” He asks slyly, shifting his touch down your belly, to the hem of your dress.
Your breath catches and your eyes widen just slightly, legs subtly spreading on instinct. “N-no...”
“No? You didn’t like it?” he asks, as his body moves again, settling comfortably between your legs, hands more boldly pushing at your dress. “So, I should stop?”
“I-I,” you stutter, sucking in a deep breath when you feel him grab your thighs hard, and pull them apart even more. You can barely make a sound as he lowers himself down, nosing along the hem of your panties, humming into the fabric. “No, no don’t stop, please—ahh!”
A high-pitched whine cracks through your words as he kisses along your already soaked panties, licking his tongue over them to suck up what juices he can. “That’s what I thought.”
Titus pushes your dress up passed your stomach, pulls your panties down over your legs, and goes to town. He licks and kisses and moans into your dripping pussy like a man starved. You try to hold in your sounds, not wanting to scare this household staff on your first day, but it’s hard when he knows just what you need, knows how to make you feel so good your brain goes fuzzy.
You’re late for dinner.
+
You can’t sleep.
All that jetlag and Titus keeping you up for the flight has your mind completely alive in the middle of the night.
So naturally you beg Titus to take you on that tour of the grounds right now under the stars. You’re both so used to being out in the dark anyway.
The forests of the English countryside are so much different than back home. Maybe it’s because the spirits that fill them are so much more ancient, the trees have witnessed the violent actions of man for so much longer. You feel like they all have eyes watching you as Titus leads you through the dark path, his hand laced in yours. They loom over you, blocking out most of the stars in the sky, the light of the moon cascading down in clear rays through their deep branches.
The path he takes you down is written with old cobble stone, lined with a stone wall about three feet tall. It twists and turns deep into the wood, the same path Titus’s ancestor had taken the day he met Mr. Le Bail. Every turn is a surprise, winding deeper and deeper, until the orange light of the Danforth castle is just a small fleck when you turn back to it. For the first time in a long time, you feel unsettled in the wilderness.
But still...
A familiar chill runs through your bones. Shadows dance in the corners of your mind that you feel like you’ve seen before. Even the sounds of animals, from owls to distant howls of wolves, sound like you’ve met them at some point already.
The path ends, and Titus walks behind you, a hand on your lower back to lead you into the trees, and he takes you a few feet into a clearing.
Your heart nearly stops as you take it in. There’s a circle of trees around a small boulder and a tree stump. You know you’ve been here before, and yet it’s impossible to be true.
“That is where they met,” your husband’s gravelly voice rumbles close to your ear, lips caressing your skin.
He points to the boulder, where a small message has been etched onto a gold plate. There’s a small goat carved into the metal, at the center of a pentagram. A Latin phrase lines the top, one that translates to Loyalty Through the Fires, and below that a message in English:
THE MEETING PLACE OF A TRUE GOD TO MEN, THE BEGINNING OF A BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP. SWORN THROUGH BLOOD. FOR ALL BRANCHES OF THE TREE.
You don’t remember this being here last time. You don’t know why you should remember it at all.
“This is where it all began,” Titus continues. His head rests on your shoulder, unaware of the nerves that have overtaken your body. “Two men meet in the woods, and now I stand here with you, someone I wished for, my perfect equal...” his hands slide over your sides until they rest on your belly. “Mother of my children, the next leaders of our family line.”
You hum softly, eyes closing as you let your body fall into his, the cold of the night can’t reach you here in his arms. You’re about to say something about the weird feeling, but Titus continues speaking.
“I’m so glad I could take you here while it’s just us,” he mumbles, kissing the low end of your neck. “It’s so isolated out here, nobody to bother us, nobody to stick their nose in our business.”
A soft laugh escapes your lips. Anyone else, any other circumstance, and it would sound like he’s brought you here to kill you.
“How far is the closest neighbor, anyway?” you ask, eyes open again and scanning what you can through the dark tree line.
Titus shrugs. “About five miles up north are the Whitmore’s, they’ve got a nice little hunting ground and cabin. East is the water, when you finally hit that there is a small fishing village. Ten miles west is the Pembroke Mansion, they’ve been here almost as long as we have, but they’re not in the organization. And then south is—"
Titus stops suddenly, body tensing as he backs up from you, and you hear him swear under his breath. Your arms cross over your torso as you turn around, suspicious frown on your face. “What’s wrong?”
“Shit,” Titus lets out a long sigh, running a nervous hand through his hair. He looks up at you with uncharacteristically worried eyes, lip bit between his teeth. “Okay, don’t be mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad?” You ask slowly, keeping your voice even.
“Well...” Titus groans. “Listen, Baby, it’s no big deal, their property is miles away and the woods are very dense here...”
“But...?”
“But...” he exhales, grabbing your hands and squeezing them tightly. “Well, six miles south of here is the old Cavendish estate. That family acquired it in the mid-nineteen hundreds from some down on his luck lord or whatever. I’ve probably only been there a handful of times, years ago.”
“Okay?” You say, pursing your lips. “Cavendish?”
“As in...Priscilla Cavendish.”
You immediately drop his hands with an angry gasp, backing up a foot as you laugh incredulously. Your hands come to your face, ignoring Titus’s repeats of your name as you continue to back away from him. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
Titus’s voice is tight and desperate as he approaches you, “Baby, it’s not a big deal—"
“Not a big deal?” You spit. “Your ex, who hates me, who tried to hook up with you and steal you back in our house, who was friends with your piece of garbage cousin, lives right next to your family estate, and you think that’s not a big deal?”
“She doesn’t live there, her family owns it. She may not even be at the estate,” Titus says.
“The last we heard, she was in Europe! I doubt her family owns as many houses as yours does!” You groan and look up from your hands, hormones causing a well of tears to bubble behind your eyes. A chill surges through you as you finally realize why this place looks familiar, and you cover your mouth as your gaze darts around the trees. “Oh my god, this is just like my dream, my nightmare. Th-this is where she...where you.”
Titus quickly gathers you into his arms at the look of fear on your face, “No, no that wasn’t real, Little Lamb, nothing is going to happen to us.”
One of your hands flies down to your stomach, and you think if it weren’t for the twins you’d already be sprinting the six miles to the Cavendish estate to finish this once and for all. “Y-you don’t know that. If she’s there, and she finds out we’re here...she’s going to do something, I just know it. W-we can’t stay! We have to go home, we—"
“Stop, stop it!” Titus hushes, placing his hands on your cheeks and forcing you to look up at him. “We are not going anywhere. I am not going to let anything happen to you.” His hand joins yours on your tummy, pressing down comfortingly. “None of you. I’ll call in extra security, and we’ll send someone to the estate in the morning to see if she’s there.”
“And if she is?”
Titus lets out a long, frustrated sigh. “Then...then we’ll go to London instead, to the Townhome in Westminster. I’m not letting her ruin our trip.”
“Titus, I don’t know if I can stand being in the same country as her.”
He chuckles, kissing your hair. “Well, I can call Ursula and see what we can do about getting her kicked out, but that still might take a day.”
“Titus, that’s not funny.”
“Yes, I wasn’t joking.”
Of course he wasn’t joking, you should have known they’d have influence in all world governments. “Let’s just...let’s just wait until we know if she’s there.”
“Alright,” Titus says, tightening his grip around you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I wasn’t thinking...I was too excited to bring you here.”
“I know,” you sigh. You stand up on your tip toes to kiss his cheek, and you let him capture your lips instead.
There’s no way your jetlag is going to be solved now, and as you make it back to your room and lay down in the bed, Titus’s arms are wrapped around you as your eyes stay wide open, staring at the wood ceiling.
+
Outside the Cavendish Estate is a gravel horseshoe-shaped drive, surrounded by a line of prickly pink rose bushes. A black sedan drives up to the house, observed by the doorman, who is smoking a cigarette.
He’s completely unmoved by the large security agent who exits the passenger side sporting a very large machine gun strapped to his chest.
The doorman throws his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out under his boot. “Can I help you, sir?”
The security agent looks past the doorman and up to the windows of the estate instead, surveilling what he can through the dark glass. There’s no movement inside, from what he can see. “Are there any members of the Cavendish family staying at the estate currently?”
“I don’t think I have to answer that,” the doorman snorts. “Who’s asking?”
“Titus Danforth.”
The doorman’s eyes go a little wide, but he keeps his same dry tone. “No. We are not expecting any family until after the summer season is over. I believe most of them are at the Hamptons.”
“Is Priscilla Cavendish currently staying at the estate?” The security agent asks.
The doorman sighs. “No. Like I said, no members of the family are expected until after summer. You are welcome to come check the home and the grounds, if you feel the need.”
“We do, actually.” The agent looks over at his shoulder and nods to the other guys in the sedan. Three more men and big guns join him at the door. “Lead the way.”
The doorman takes them inside, leading them men all through the house, stopping at every corner for them to point their guns around in case of an ambush. He takes them upstairs, opens the doors to every bedroom, bathroom, closet. Takes them to the lower level where the wine cellar is, into the food storage, the regular storage. Takes them through the kitchen and out the backdoor, where the small garden waits. He waits while they follow the treeline and check in the small shed. Nothing.
He shoos away any maids, cooks, groundskeepers (of which there are very few) that comes across them. Every single one of them is ID checked, in case Priscilla is trying to get away with a disguise. But they’re all just the servants.
When every single inch of the estate has been checked over, the security agents join the doorman at the front of the house once again.
“Like I said, the Cavendish family is in the Hamptons,” the doorman says, pulling out another cigarette. “Can I do anything else for you boys?”
The head agent gives the doorman a stern look, before shaking his head and leading the group back to the sedan.
The doorman watches, craning his neck to make sure the car gets all the way up past the gate, before putting out this cigarette and running back into the estate. He heads to the small library, and pulls out one of the sconces from the wall, releasing a secret opening behind a set of bookshelves.
“Miss Cavendish, they’re gone,” he calls into the dark room.
Priscilla emerges with a wicked smile on her face. She pets at the man’s cheek, long perfectly manicured nails scratch softly at his skin. “Thank you, my darling. You’ve done a very good job for me.”
+
“So, she’s not here?” you ask.
You’re sitting at the end of a long dining table, poking at your breakfast and morning tea, as Titus receives the report from your security.
“Correct, we searched the whole grounds, and then had our guys in the states follow up in the Hamptons. It appears her whole family is at their beach house. There is no photo evidence of her being there, but that is on parr with her behavior since, um, well last year.”
Titus and you share a smirk. Yes, she’s been in hiding from the public for several months, ever since you busted her face up.
“We have no reason to believe she is in this country.”
“Thank you,” you say quietly, sipping from your tea with a little more energy.
“Get me pictures, however you can, just in case,” Titus instructs, before waving them out so you can have your privacy again. “See, Little Lamb, I told you there is nothing to worry about.”
“Fine, but you still should have told me about her house before bringing me all the way to a foreign country. You’re gonna have to do something big to make it up to me.”
Titus licks his lips, hand reaching for your thigh under the table. “Think I can come up with some equitable solutions.”
Before you can respond, your phone goes off from where it sits on the table. You hold up a finger to silence him when your husband’s mouth drops open to protest, as you pick it up to check the text.
“Do not answer a text from my sister while I’m trying to fuck you,” Titus says, staring at you with bewildered, annoyed blinks.
“It’s Ursula updating me on the babies’ suite. She said the painting should be done by the time we get home, so we won’t have to worry about fumes or anything. Isn’t that nice?”
“I guess,” Titus mumbles.
You shoot him a stern look before sending a thank you in reply. As a gift to you and Titus, Ursula is having an entire portion of your wing of the house torn out and rebuilt to the ultimate nursery for the twins. You told her what you wanted theming and coloring wise, but you’re letting the end result be a complete surprise from her.
“Maybe we should go down to London to do some shopping for the suite ourselves, you know? Ursula is going to have most of it covered but we could find some little stuffed animals or decorations we like,” you say, putting your phone down and running a hand into Titus’s hair, soothing the annoyance out of him.
His lips twitch and he smiles, gently grabbing your hand to kiss your palm. “How about this weekend? We’ll look for gifts for the babies...go to the designers’ show rooms and get something nice for yourself...but just one night, okay? The point of this trip is to keep you to myself.”
“You always keep me to yourself,” you joke. It’s not that true, anymore. You’ve made a couple friends in the organization, you’re much more social than you used to be, but also you’d be the last to complain about being tucked away in the giant Danforth Estate with only Titus’s attention. “What plans did you have for us here, anyway?”
“Well, we have horse stables, you can still ride if we take it slow,” he licks his lips and you roll your eyes at the double entendre. He wraps his foot around the leg of your chair and jerks it towards him, pulling you closer. “We can get in the pool, send the staff away to do some skinny dipping...or I can just take you skeet shooting or something boring like that.”
You burst into a fit of giggles. “Skeet shooting? Seriously? I thought that was something rich people only did on like TV shows.”
“Yes well, I think you know real rich people do all that kind of shit. Father used to make us do it as part of training.”
“Of course he did,” you say with a frown.
Titus stares at you, lips pressed together in a stressed line. “What?”
He’s told you about his father. Emotionally distant for most of his life, raised him and Ursula to be ruthless killers, everything you know about Chester Danforth makes him sound like a monster. “Your father...I don’t understand him. I don’t understand how you can...”
“Love him?” Titus asks, voice quiet. His expression is pulled in, brow furrowed and eyes worried, looking so young like he always does when he’s stressed. “It’s complicated, but he wasn’t so bad. We aren’t like normal families, we couldn’t be. He needed me and Ursula to be ready for this part of our life. The part where he’d be gone and we would take over the High Seat. And I wish he...” Titus’s voice trails off, eyes growing distant. He wishes his father would have seen him more, would have treated him equally to Ursula, prepared him and trusted him in the same way. “He was my father and I loved him. It’s too late to care about everything else.”
You crinkle your nose, running a hand softly over your husband’s cheek. “I’m sure it must have been terrible, having to kill him.”
“It had to be done,” Titus says. “He was old and weak. And if we’d let him fight for the High Seat, he would have just died anyway. And you...fuck, Little Lamb, who knows what would have happened to you, to me?” Titus reaches a hand onto your belly. “Everything happened the way it was supposed to.”
You give him a small smile, placing your hand over his. “Still, I don’t want to raise them like how you were. I don’t mind the training and all that, I want them to be fighters, I want them to know how to survive. But I’m going to love them for whoever they turn out to be.”
“We will,” Titus insists. “I want to be a better father than mine. I want our children to know for sure that they’re loved, just as much as I love you.”
Your smile grows brighter as you bring his hand to your lips and kiss his palm, before sliding out of your seat to stand above him. “So, skeet shooting?”
“You really want to try it?” Titus asks with a smirk.
You shrug, “Sure, it always looked fun in the movies. Besides, I think I’m a pretty good shot already, you’re going to have very stiff competition.”
+
The day passes slowly, sun bright in the sky, birds singing, creatures running through the trees around the two of you. Titus showed you how to shoot, but his teaching was wasted considering you’d been forced to have plenty of practice in your past hunts. He did his best to hide his frustration at losing to you.
After the skeet shooting, the two of you relaxed poolside, enjoying tea under the sun and just sitting in each other’s company. Ursula called to video chat before dinner, taking the two of you on a virtual tour of the work in progress on the nursery suite. You sat by and giggled as Titus and Ursula argued over one of the babies being named after her.
“Should we just name them Titus and Ursula two? Both of them? That’s incredibly stupid.”
“No, just name the girl Ursula, the boy doesn’t need to be named after you.”
“They’re my children! Not yours! Your name shouldn’t come in at all!”
“I’m going to be their favorite aunt—"
“You will be their only aunt!”
This went on for some time, and you giggled at them the whole time, until finally you broke it up by reminding them that you actually get the biggest say, and you haven’t even begun narrowing name options down.
Dinner was held in the dining room, just like at home the two of you sat together at the end of the table, catching each other up on gossip, making plans for the next couple days. Instead of an after dinner cigar, Titus has done what he’s had to do the last couple months and have an after dinner glass of whiskey, while he waits for you to finish your night time routine.
But also like he has the last couple months, he gets impatient and lures you out of the bathroom with sweet words from his smooth voice, gets you on the bed so he can worship you the way he knows you deserve.
And after a couple of orgasms, you’d fallen asleep almost instantly, left Titus with the task of carefully cleaning you up, dressing you, and tucking you into bed. He fell asleep not long after with you in his arms, the smell of your freshly cleaned hair seeping into his nose.
Which is why his heart nearly stopped when he woke up at about 3 AM, cold and arms empty, you nowhere in sight. “Baby? Where did you go?”
His calls cannot reach you as your feet carry you away. In your mind, you’re wandering into the woods, sun shining above you, morning doves cooing in your ears.
Your dream has you following Titus’s voice in the opposite direction, down the hill, across a stream, and slowly in and out of a winding path. You think he’s just up ahead, but every time you make a turn, it’s like you’ve just barely missed him. His teasing laughter comes from the trees, and you just sigh as you call back to him.
“Titus! You’re not being fair!” You say as your feet start to hurt. You’re wearing your flowy white nightgown, which is now stained green at the bottom from the grass.
Beams of sunlight part through the trees, guiding your way as you continue to chase your husband’s voice. You stumble down a hill, just barely keeping your balance once you reach the end, and you spot another clearing just up ahead. The sound of his laughter is closer now, as the trees seem to part for you to enter.
You hear Titus call your name, over and over, both in the distance and right in your ears. Your face scrunches in confusion at the different levels, but as you enter the clearing, you see him only feet away. Your hands reach up as though to embrace him...
When suddenly he’s right in front of you, yelling your name right in your face, and your whole body jolts. In an instant, light changes to dark, the smile on your husband’s face turns to a concerned frown, the beautiful trees morph into dark, painted walls, and the warmth of the sun dulls into the chill of night.
Your head hurts and your eyes feel strained as you blink them, Titus’s hands gripping hard at your arms as he shakes you awake.
“Little Lamb? What are you doing?” He asks, voice filled to the brim with worry, eyes darting all around your body.
Your mouth drops open and you shiver, vision adjusting to the dark as your head shakes. You look down at your bare feet, your completely clean white nightgown. “I-I don’t...where am I?”
“You’re downstairs, my love, almost out the back door,” Titus says slowly, looking over his shoulder at the grand wood door that leads to the back garden.
“H-How did I get here?” You ask, voice shaking as you begin to hyperventilate.
“You were sleepwalking,” Titus concludes. He doesn’t miss the stress and worry on your face, and pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping tight around you as you press your face into his warmth. “You’ve never done that before, have you?”
“I-I don’t think so...” you whisper, eyes wide as you look at the back door. Something inside tells you that your real destination lies far beyond it. “I was dreaming that I was following you into the woods.”
“Like your nightmare?”
“No...no it wasn’t like that at all,” you say, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “It was day time, and you were laughing, and nothing bad happened, but you were leading me somewhere...I think.”
You watch as his face twists through confusion and worry, studying your face and your words. He’s never encountered anything like this, not from you anyway. Maybe mother experienced something like it when she was pregnant with him and Ursula? Did she ever tell him a story like this? Did Ursula? He can’t think of anything. He can’t remember reading anything about it either, not in any book about any ritual or family member.
“M-maybe...maybe because we’re far from home. We’re in a sacred place for the family and Mr. Le Bail...” his voice trails off. Why would Mr. Le Bail try to trick you into going anywhere with Titus, especially when you carry the heirs to the High Seat?
“Yeah...maybe...” you say, though you sound just as unsure. “It wasn’t a bad dream. I-It must be some weird side effect or something.”
“Right,” Titus sighs. Neither of you are confident in your conclusions. But he kisses your cheek and scoops you up into his arms to carry you back up the stairs, your own wrap around his neck tightly. “Let’s just get back to bed, Little Lamb. I’ll lock the door in case it happens again.”
“Okay,” you respond, voice small, as you keep your eyes on that back door the whole trip up the stairs.
Titus tucks you back in bed, arms tighter around you this time. He stays awake to listen to your breaths even out until he knows you’re back asleep, and then he remains awake for the rest of the night.
+
Mere meters into the woods, far enough that she won’t be seen from the home or security, but not so far that she cannot cast her control, Priscilla huffs out her frustration through gritted teeth.
The white smoke of the totem she lit fades away, as the time limit for the hex runs out. You were so close to the door. She almost had you.
Her jaw clicks as she throws the totem to the ground and stomps it under her foot, before burying it under a large stone.
She knows there are no protections over the home, but Titus being able to wake you from the Hex Sleep was an unforeseen obstacle. He must really love you after all.
No matter, she thinks to herself, I’ll just have to try a stronger spell next time.
+
After another nervous and quiet morning breakfast, Titus and you try to shake out of the looming dark thoughts from your sleep walking by taking the horses out.
The Danforth’s have a long history of breeding horses in England, and have even worked with the former Queen on creating prize winning racers. There is a branch of cousins who specialize in it, and spend the most time at this family home out of the year to take care of the horses, but of course a few are especially raised for Titus and Ursula to ride.
The twins’ horses are, naturally, two twin black stallions, with white hair on their ankles and tails, named Azazel and Nyx. The only difference between them is the little white star shaped spot in the middle of Azazel’s forehead, which is why Titus had chosen him.
Now, Azazel comes with a mate. For some time, the trainers say about a year, he has refused to breed with any other horse but a beautiful grey and red mare named Lilith.
And Lilith took to you so quickly.
You’d taken one look into her eyes and you could have sworn there was understanding looking back. She’d let you pet a hand down her hair without any hesitation, and when you climbed onto her saddle, she stood extra still to give you no trouble.
“Do they have any foals yet?” You ask the trainer on hand.
“Not yet, but she’s in month eight right now, so you’ll both have to treat each other gently.”
You give Titus a bright smile as he mounts Azazel, and leans over to give your cheek a kiss. At the same time, you watch as the horses lean their own faces towards each other, nuzzling at each other’s necks.
“They’re precious,” you coo, patting Lilith’s side.
“She’s perfect for you,” Titus says. “When the babies are here, we’ll come back so you can really ride her around the land. I hear she’s a real spitfire.”
“Is that horse trainer code for pain in the ass?” You ask with a smirk.
Titus winks, then snaps his reins to direct his horse out of the stable. He keeps the pace slow as he leads you and Lilith through the forest path, until you hit a clearing to a long field over some hills. It’s a bright day, warm but not too hot, clouds covering most of the sun, and the grounds look extra green. Titus’s silver hair shines as the sun reflects in it, and you can’t stop thinking about how beautiful he truly is.
You two ride all the way into the small town, where Titus pays for you to have full privacy in a little pub for lunch. It’s dark and old and the food is amazing, and the owners leave you two in a corner to your own devices until you decide you’re ready to go.
This happens all the time, Titus and you renting out an entire space for just the two of you, part of the perks of being the richest and most powerful family. The magazines and tabloids have tried to follow you, tried to get some sort of scoop on the most elusive Blue Blooded, Old Money family in America, but Titus buys his way into full privacy.
Times like now it feels more romantic and overprotective.
You ride the horses back the same way, as the sun begins to set in the sky, turning everything orange and pink and picturesque. Any worries you have about ex-girlfriends and sleepwalking completely leave your minds.
Before dinner, you video chat with Penelope, who has been going a little overboard with buying baby presents. She shows you every single designer outfit she’s already collected, from newborn to toddler.
That night when it’s finally time to sleep, Titus locks the door again, and holds you tight again, but he falls asleep a few hours later when it’s clear you won’t be trying to go anywhere again.
The sleepwalking doesn’t come back for the next couple days, actually. And Titus accepts that maybe it was just a weird one-time thing. He has the security around the estate reduced so your privacy can return...mostly so he can go back to fucking you by the pool or in the woods without having to worry about the security agents as an unwanted audience.
+
The trip goes by without any other weird incidences for you.
A doctor comes by to check in before your weekend excursion to London, and everything with the babies is perfectly healthy. Titus makes him do extra tests on you, but everything appears to be normal, so his anxieties finally settle.
The flat in London is just as beautiful as the country home, if less private, but you imagine none of the neighbors are going to argue with Titus Danforth of all people over his wife being too loud in the throws of wild sex at midnight.
He takes you to designers’ show rooms during the day, and you buy a whole wardrobe for the babies, as well as maternity clothes for yourself. You even make Titus pick out things for himself, and he’s so adorably annoyed when it’s you who treats him like a doll to dress up for once.
But secretly you know he loves to be doted on. He loves that he has your attention constantly, loves when you go to fix his hair or his suit jacket, in ways that when Ursula used to do it made him feel like a child, from you it makes him feel loved. From you it’s not about having to put on a show or not embarrass the family, but rather because you want him to look his best for you.
The same way you love to look your best for him. The same way you love to sneak into a high-end lingerie store while he’s finalizing a new car purchase, just so you can pick out some sets to show off to him later that night.
And oh boy, he loves the surprise from you after your shower, when you come into the bedroom in nothing but a silk robe, which is promptly dropped to the floor to reveal a gorgeous red lacy set. Titus’s mouth waters at the sight of heart-shaped cut outs around your breasts, and a matching heart over your already dripping pussy.
His heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest when you climb onto his lap, rounded tummy pressed to his, and you push him down roughly on his back.
Your voice is low and sultry when you start to whisper about how protective he is, how safe he makes you feel, how he takes such good care of you, and you bite the shell of his ear. Your hand reaches between your bodies to rub at his bulge, and he moans as he kisses your neck, grabs your jaw to keep you still to look right into your eyes. But you slap his hand away before slapping his cheek, and you grab his jaw instead.
Your fingers carefully free his cock from his boxers, as your wet tongue licks up the side of his face, and you moan in his ear, “Lay back, Daddy.”
A full body shiver climbs through Titus as he moans and his eyes roll back, cock twitching fully to life in your hand. He does what he’s told, laying back on the bed, eyes still intensely on yours the whole time. Your start to inch of his body, and his eyes widen with sheer excitement as he realizes your destination.
“Fuck, yeah baby, gonna sit on my face?” Titus says, hands flying up to your thighs. He licks his lips, tilting his chin. “C’mon, Little Lamb, use me.”
You whimper at the first feeling of his tongue on you, at the hungry groan your husband lets out as you ride his face.
By the time you’ve come twice on him, and Titus is able to take back control to bring your cunt down on his cock instead, you’re pretty sure the neighbors had to have put noise canceling headphones on. There’s no way they’d be able to sleep through all the cries of pleasure he brings out of you.
+
Getting back from London, in a different car than what you’d left in, feels like coming back home for you. Already your mind and body have adapted to ownership of places you’re barely familiar with that hold the name of your husband’s family.
It’s nice coming back to the quiet, and for the next week, things continue on peacefully. Titus teaches you how to use every old weapon in the family’s arsenal, you take the horses out a few more times, you spend peaceful afternoons around the pool to escape the hot sun, and you indulge on everything you could possibly want from food to jewels to insatiable sex with your incredibly hot husband.
It’s just the break from everything you’d needed. Back home, you’re still working with Ursula, still tending to Violet’s garden, still keeping up with responsibilities. But here on this quiet hideaway, Titus treats you like the princess he always refers to you as.
The fact that the staff of this house are good about actually leaving you two alone, and there is no chance of interruption from Ursula has been incredibly freeing for both of you.
Back at home, Titus never lets you skinny dip. His whole hang up about people seeing his wife’s naked body gets in the way.
But here...there really are no prying eyes, so he doesn’t put up a fight when you throw your bikini top at him. He’s trying to read the paper poolside, and it gets completely ruined by your wet suit. Titus isn’t exactly mad though, when he sees your tits, already growing from the babies, wet and welcoming, nipples peaked, as you wade towards him in the water.
“Come on, Ti, get in here with me,” you call with a pout. “It’s too hot to stay out there all by yourself.”
He looks like a giddy teenager as he tosses his paper aside and climbs down into the water with a toothy smile. “Aww, my baby, you don’t have to beg.”
You watch him closely as he climbs in, sun shining on his freckled body. You bite your lip and you feel a warm tightening between your legs, as your eyes follow a line of scars down Titus’s torso. He’s so...thick. Everywhere. All that muscle. You’ve seen his body a million times by now, but something about having him in the sunlight just accentuates every piece of it.
His body is strong, hard, a wall of warmth when he’s got you under him, or up against a wall, or a tree...wherever he can get you. His body is littered with grey scars from hunts and fights over the years, and fresher ones from you, especially your nails and teeth. His body is...decorated with sprinklings of grey hairs, but that’s the only indication of his age, with the way he takes care of himself he manages to have the body of a much younger man.
You float up on your back and swim backwards away from him, and Titus follows you through the cooling water, all the way until he has you backed into a corner. The water splashes around you when he grabs you hard by the hips and pulls you into him, and you giggle into the kiss he lays on you.
Your hands reach between your bodies and under the water, where you make quick work of undoing the tie on his swim trunks, swallowing the vibrations of his moan into your mouth.
“So fuckin’ needy, Little Lamb,” Titus chuckles, lips tracing down from your mouth to your neck.
“We gotta enjoy it while we can,” you whine, tossing his trunks out of the pool. You feel his cock under the water, already half hard, and you wrap your hand around him, giving it a few tugs. “You just look so good, want you all the time, Daddy.”
“You got me whenever you want, Baby,” Titus groans, tongue licking into your mouth as his hips buck into your hand.
He reaches down and rips your bottoms off, letting them float away as he hoists you onto his lap. Your legs wrap around him as your kiss deepens. Titus’s fingers dip between your folds, and you whimper as he starts to rub circles on your clit. Titus wraps an arm around your back, using it to cushion your body against the side of the pool, as your hips start to roll down against his fingers.
You pull back from the kiss with a gasp, mouth dropped open as stuttered breaths escape your lips. You look into Titus’s eyes, met with his usual determined hunger, the look at sends excited shivers surging up your spine. Water circles around you from the movement of Titus’s arm, and your eyes fall to the rippling muscle of his bicep, before rolling back in your head.
“Ti, oh god, Titus I’m—” you gasp, heat pooling in your belly.
“Yeah, yeah, Baby, come on,” Titus goads you on, leaning down to bite at your neck, heat of his body encasing you.
Your legs shake and your hips buck as white sears your vision and you cry out his name, splashing water around as you come on his fingers. “Titus! Fuck, oh god, thank you, oh fuck—" pleasure ripples through you, but you’re not done yet, your legs tighten around Titus’s waist. “Fuck me, fuck me, please, Titus!”
“Fuck, gonna fuck you hard, Baby, don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” Titus grunts, jerking his cock under the water, rubbing the tip up and down your folds.
“Don’t care, want you inside me now,” you plead, eyes opening wide, wet at the corners with tears. “Just fuck me, Daddy.”
“Christ,” Titus swears, shoving his cock in you in one go, before grabbing onto the edge of the pool for leverage. “Definitely not gonna last, so fuckin’ tight, baby, so perfect for me, always.”
Water splashes all around you and out of the pool as Titus fucks you, no thought and all haste. Neither of you are interested in this moment in dragging this out, lost in the spontaneity and heat of the afternoon. No matter how long, every time you and Titus fuck it reassures and reinstates the love and connection between you. It’s spiritual, and beautiful, and fills your heart with pure love.
You can’t stop the rambling of Titus’s name over and over through your whines and whimpers, which grow louder and louder with each thrust of Titus’s hips. He moves fast but deep, fucking into you hard, cock kissing your cervix. He lifts you more against the side of the pool, just enough to get his mouth on your tits, and he whines from somewhere deep in his throat as his lips wrap around one of your nipples.
Your head is thrown back and you wrap and hand into his damp hair, breathy moans escaping your lips as he fucks you. The sunlight glistens on your wet skin, birds fly overhead, but the only thing you can feel is your husband all over you.
And you feel so free.
You’re distracted enough, isolated enough, that neither you nor Titus notice the pair of dark, rageful eyes staring at you from beyond the trees.
She’s getting sick of catching you two like this. Her stomach is in envious knots at the sight of his hands on you, his lips and tongue leaving marks on your body, your cries of pleasure from his touch. If there was one thing she could always count on with Titus Danforth, it was to be the best fuck of her life.
The fact that she’s been out here long enough to watch this little tryst from the start, from the moment your slutty, pathetic, attention seeking, gold digging hands threw your top at him, to now as you scream like some overzealous porn star, only tells Priscilla one thing;
Titus sent away the security, and you two are finally vulnerable enough.
Enjoy that sense of security while you can, she thinks with a terrible smirk on her face, as she slips into the darkness of the forest.
+
The moon is full, big and orange in the sky. The stars twinkle around it like little fairy lights. There’s barely a cloud in sight.
You and Titus are sleeping soundly in bed after a romantic, candlelit dinner and then about an hour of fucking on the dining table and the floor and the stairs on your way back up.
You only have two more days on this babymoon before it’s time to go home, and Titus doesn’t plan on wasting any second of them. As soon as you’re home it’s back to working and running the world, and Ursula pushing her way into baby prep, and you won’t be only his anymore.
These couple weeks of just the two of you have been paradise.
The door to the bedroom has been unlocked for the last couple nights. Titus believed the sleepwalking really wasn’t going to happen again. There was no reason for it to happen in the first place.
You have been sleeping soundly, especially tonight, tiny breaths on Titus’s neck lulling him into his own peaceful slumber.
In your dreams, you’re tending to the garden at home, watering the flowers and digging up weeds, rearranging the pots in the greenhouse so your carnivorous babies can get equal sunlight. You’re wearing a red sundress, that rides up to the top of your thighs, and gives a peek of your cheeks when you bend down or reach up high.
There’s a cool breeze around you as you carry supplies from one end of the garden to the other, and you smile as you spot Titus waiting for you up ahead.
“Going to actually help me, or just enjoy the view?” You playfully ask.
Titus answers with a smirk, but there’s something...uncanny in his smile. From far away, it almost looks too wide, too toothy, and you can’t see his eyes behind the shades on his face, but you can tell that the smile isn’t reaching them from the lack of crinkles.
“How about you take a break a join me over here? Got a surprise for you, Little Lamb.”
You’re pretty sure you answer verbally but your mouth feels like it’s full of marbles, and the words come out in a gurgle. The smile on Titus’s face doesn’t fade at all, hands reaching out to beckon you to him.
“Come on, my Baby, this way.”
Your feet carry you before your mind catches up to the action, and before you know it, you’re placing your hands in his. With a gentle tug, Titus guides you down the path and into the woods. You try to pull him closer, to take his sunglasses off and look in his eyes, to kiss him, but he moves like smoke wisping out of your grasp.
“Where are we going?” Your voice comes back again, but it sounds distant even from your own lips.
“Somewhere special,” is his only response, voice warped.
It causes your smile to fall just slightly, and you hesitate before stepping into the woods. There’s a darkness just beyond the first line of greenery, shadows fading to black nothingness, and all your movement stops.
Your head starts to hurt, and your neck twitches, as a buzz starts to form in your ears. “W-wait.”
“Come on, no need to be afraid, Little Lamb. You don’t ever need to be afraid again.”
His voice is syrupy, low and gravely like usual, but something is just off about it. You try to back up, the tiniest bit of motion away from him, but he yanks you forward.
With a gasp, you shove Titus away, and you stumble back as he disappears into the darkness of the trees. “N-no, this isn’t right. Y-you're not—”
“Not what?” Titus’s voice appears right in your ear, breath hot on your skin and it sends a shiver up your spine. You feel hands wrap around your waist, strong, tight, but still wrong in some way. Where Titus normally grabs you tight to connect to you, to make you feel him and his weight, these hands are trapping you, caging you. “It’s alright, Little Lamb, I’m right here.”
But something in the way his voice warps sets off all alarms in your brain, and you turn with a fist raised, but as you take a swing your hand meets nothing but air. Your feet catch on the ground and you trip in your effort to run away, landing hard on the ground.
The impact jolts you, and suddenly you’re surrounded by darkness and cold. The light daytime breeze replaced by the wind chill of night, owls hooting and crickets chirping in the sky.
Your home garden path is replaced by the forest path Titus had led you down the other day, the one that leads to the place his ancestor first met Mr. Le Bail. Your eyes adjust to the lack of light as your chest heaves, breaths coming out hard, sweat forming on your brow in your panic.
“Wh-what the fuck?” you gasp, head darting around in every direction to try to figure out how you got here.
It must be the sleepwalking.
But the doctor said it wouldn’t come up again...Titus said you hadn’t even tried to leave the bed since that night.
Titus had left the door unlocked.
You look down at your body, white nightgown glowing under the moonlight, feet bare and already a little cut up from rocks and sticks that you’d stepped on during your journey. Your hand instinctively flies to your stomach at the sound of a twig snapping behind you, and you whip your head around in its direction.
“Who’s there? What the fuck is going on?” You shout, voice cracking frantically, disoriented.
Another crack echoes from your side, and you turn to it, breathing deep to stop yourself from hyperventilating. Then another from the right, from behind you, all around, and you turn to each of them, twisting your body around, biting your lip to keep in any panicked sound you might make, heart racing so fast you think it might burst right from your chest.
“Show yourself!” You scream into the void of trees.
Everything goes silent for a few moments, until the sudden sound of cold, hollow laughter emerges from behind you.
You feel the blood drain from your face as a sick knot twists from your stomach and painfully up through your throat. You know that laughter.
“Good god, little girl, enough of the fuss,” Priscilla’s icy, reedy voice says through her laughter.
You quickly turn around, backing up as you swallow that knot and replace any hint of fear with anger. “You have got to be kidding me. You’re not supposed to be here!”
She’s wearing a white gown similar to yours, her long black hair slightly disheveled, black rings under her eyes. There is just the slightest hint of scarring on her cheek from your last encounter. Her smile is crooked and wild, the loss of her sanity shining through it.
“Hmm, no?” Priscilla mocks. “Why? Because the servants who have loyally worked for my family for decades said I wasn’t? Because they showed your idiotic security an empty house? I mean, they certainly showed them most of the house, but these old mansions have so many hidden passageways, it’s very easy to get confused and miss things.”
You suck in a breath, eyes widening just slightly. When you get back to Titus, you’ll have to tell him to add that head of security to the list of future sacrifices.
“Doesn’t matter, I was being nice before when I fucked up just your face last time,” you spit, fist clenching at your side. “Come any closer and I’ll make good on my promise to fucking kill you, I swear—"
A flicker of light at Priscilla’s side catches your eye, derailing your train of thought. Her smile only widens, sharp teeth glowing pearly white, as she lifts a long knife with a bejeweled handle up.
In an instant, Priscilla catches up to you, pressing the sharp point of the blade into your chest. “Did you think I’d lure you out here without being prepared for you? You’re a fucking savage monster who caught me off guard last time, but you’re not the only one who can fight.”
“L-lure me?”
Priscilla laughs again, loud and maniacal, shooting dread up your spine.
“Darling, you live in a world of Satan worshipping and rituals, and you never considered other dark magic might be out there? Sleepwalking hexes are so easy to put together.”
She twists the knife as she steps closer, not pressing hard enough to break your skin, but it doesn’t stop the bile from forming in your throat. You know the Danforth’s have all kinds of ritual books and grimoires in their collections, and you curse yourself for not looking further into them before.
She’s got you cornered, but you’ll be further damned if you let Priscilla sense your fear.
“Doesn’t matter, Titus will notice I’m gone any minute, and he’ll—”
“Come save you?” Priscilla says, cutting you off. She grabs you by the shoulder, dipping the knife down to your stomach as her boney hand digs into your skin. The knife is pressed right to the middle of your bump, and you flash back to that nightmare, to Priscilla plunging it into your womb, and you freeze. “That’s what I’m counting on, little girl.”
+
The sudden sound of his phone ringing lurches Titus out of his slumber and the very first thing he notices is that you are missing.
His arm reaches out to your side of the bed, frantically feeling around but coming up with nothing, and his body sits upright in an instant.
He shakes himself out of his confusion, rubbing sleep from his eyes as his phone continues to ring from the bedside table.
Unknown number.
“Hello?” Titus grumbles, voice raw from waking up.
“Ti?”
“Baby?” All feelings of sleep drain completely from him, and the hot, liquid feeling of dread seeping up his throat replaces it. “Baby, what’s going on? Where are you?”
“I-I’m at the place... Le Bail’s clearing.”
He’s already on his feet, throwing on his sweatpants and white undershirt, “What are you doing out there, sweet girl?”
His voice is far too gentle, far too even, but the hair standing up on the back of his neck, and the bumps overtaking his body tell him something is deeply, terribly wrong, and he has to remain calm.
Titus rushes to the duffle bag he’s kept on the other end of the room, one hand pressing the phone to his ear, while the other rummages through. He grabs his gun, shoving it in the back of his pants, and a long, serrated hunting knife.
“S-sleepwalking again—”
“Fuck’s sake, you’re taking forever! Tell him to get his sorry ass out here!”
Titus freezes, face going pale. He’d know that frigid voice anywhere, been on the receiving end of that ire many times. “Is that?”
“Yes,” you cut off quickly, a shake in your voice.
He swallows. She must be threatening you for you to sound so scared. His girl doesn’t scare easy, not at all actually. “Did she hurt you? The babies?”
“We’re okay for now. But you need to meet us here—"
“Fucking hell, give me that,” there’s a rustling on the other end of the phone, and Titus winces when he hears the sound of something thudding against skin, and your soft groan of pain. “Titus, Darling, we need to talk, now, or I’m going to carve your little bastard spawn from your whore’s belly and feed them all to the wolves.”
“Priscilla if you lay a hand on her—"
“Already have, idiot. Her pretty face just took a nice hit, not nearly close to what the little monster did to me, of course.”
“Priscilla, I swear on all the fires of hell, if anything else happens to her, I’m going to make you regret it.”
“Promise?” She mocks. “Don’t take too long, I’ve got a newly sharpened blade just begging to rip into Mrs. Danforth’s skin. Ta ta!”
Titus yells through the clicking of the phone. He grips the knife tight in his hand as he darts down the stairs, not bothering with socks or shoes.
His heart pounds as he runs into the dark of the night, the black void of the trees. He hasn’t felt this helpless since the night of your hunt, when he desperately chased after your path of carnage throughout the resort grounds. Just like then, all his thoughts are consumed by his need to get to you, to protect you.
+
Your hand cradles your cheek, a slight bruise already forming from where Priscilla had punched you when she snatched the phone. You still look at her with a dark scowl. “He’s not coming unarmed, you know.”
Priscilla clicks her tongue and traces the knife up and down your belly. “I don’t care. I’ve got the advantage no matter what, little girl,” she says as she slinks around your body, keeping the blade pressed against you. Her cold hand wraps around the back of your neck, as she secures her position behind you, and she yanks your neck back. “Just feel lucky I’d rather he watch while I gut you, or you and those things growing inside you would already be food for rats.”
Your breath hitches, but it’s not panic that runs through your veins. No, the adrenaline of a fight is surging through you, fusing with your blood cells as your mind races for a way out of her grip. You’re not some helpless thing, and you will not let this pathetic hag outsmart you.
If it weren’t for the babies, you’d already be risking a piece of your body against her blade. It wouldn’t be the first time you endured the highest pain, and you doubt she’d be anywhere worse than the Le Domas’s. But your hand stays firmly on your belly, where you can feel the softest fluttering under your skin.
You take in a deep breath, anything to keep your heartbeat even, so they don’t feel the danger you’ve walked them into. You can only hope Titus gets here soon to give Priscilla a good distraction.
+
Titus’s heart is racing, hot and big, thumping so hard in his chest it feels like it’s going to burst right out. His feet sting from the cuts he gets running over rocks and sticks, but he stamps down the feeling, not allowing himself to register it. The only pain that matters is the sting in his heart, the sick bile that burns his throat, as he runs to you.
His vision is in a tunnel, zeroed in on the path he’s walked hundreds of times in his life, the one that goes to where all of this began for his family. The place that used to bring him so much proud and truly connect him to his family’s power, now feels like a distant grave, haunting and heavy as he gets closer.
A beam of light shines down from where it reflects off the moon, and just ahead Titus can see the clearing, like a twisted version of his recurring childhood dream. Your laughter isn’t waiting for him beyond the trees, just dead silence.
He slows down his steps and raises his gun, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He takes smooth, methodical steps as he approaches, readying himself for anything he could find.
The first thing he sees is you, beautiful in your white gown under the moonlight, fingers tapping your tummy, almost angelic in the way you glow. The light catches through the fabric, and he can see your bare body underneath, wishing more than anything this was just a romantic moment for the two of you. But there is a fire in your eyes, a caged smolder as your lip is bitten between your teeth, face scrunched in anger and frustration.
You’re holding back, Titus knows, because his girl would never back down from a fight so easily.
Priscilla is behind you, hand around your neck and knife firmly pressed to your stomach, using your body as a human shield. Titus swallows a lump as the two of you make eye contact, your brows raising just slightly in relief that he’s here.
“Oh, Titus, so nice of you to join us,” Priscilla says, licking her lips. “I was beginning to think you finally came to your senses and realized the little thing was too much trouble.”
You scoff. “You haven’t begun to see trouble—"
“Shut it!” Priscilla hisses, squeezing down on your neck. “You stupid—"
“Hey!” Titus barks, clicking the safety off his gun. “Enough! Priscilla you’ve gone too fucking far, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Something in her face cracks, every muscle twitching at once, and Titus has never seen her like this. She’s completely deranged, gone completely mad, and when she speaks it's with an uneasy whine. “I’m taking what should be mine! You were supposed to be mine!”
Titus keeps his gun up, and his eyes quickly dart to you as you both share a look of understanding. There isn’t going to be any reasoning with her. Your body starts to buzz, the need inside to tear apart begins to wake up, that gnawing voice in your mind that wants to kill starts to sing. But the knife is still at your belly, and even though you can’t actually read his mind, you know Titus wants you to wait until he can open an opportunity for you to attack.
“You’re doing all this for my attention? To get me back?” Titus asks, voice softer than he’d ever thought possible. At least, he’s never spoken this softly for anyone but you.
“Yes,” she whines again, nails digging into your throat, but she’s not blocking your airway. “I-I’m sorry, Titus, I should have never let you go. Nobody is more perfect for me than you, and I was made for you. I always did everything you wanted, Ti, you remember? The amount of times I let you mutilate and defile my body, and I always wanted more, always gave in to your appetites.”
You watch as your husband’s jaw clicks, and your lips quiver into a frown. You know those appetites well, you’ve fed into them so many times, and craved them for your own body. You know he’d certainly tried to unleash his most sadistic fantasies completely on her, but he’d told you he could tell she wasn’t as into it. Not the way you are, his perfect, sick match.
“I can do all of that again, whatever you want. You want to tie me up in the ropes? You want to hit me with a paddle until I bleed? Choke me?” her voice drops in a tone more desperately seductive with each suggestion. “I’ll pet your hair while you suck on my tits and call me mommy. Or I’ll let you fuck me in the ass and call you Daddy, whatever. I just want you back. I want that life back!”
“And you thought this was the way?” Titus asks, doing his best to put on an air of pity to disguise the disgust he feels at her words. Sure, there was a time where her promising all of those things would have made him putty in her hands, but not anymore. Not when he has you.
You wish you could laugh at how easily she’s falling for his act.
“O-of course,” Priscilla sniffs, hands starting to shake. Her grip on you loosens subtly, and you know your chance to break away is coming soon. “I-I know you, Titus. I know your soul. I know what you need. You want someone who could be worthy of Mr. Le Bail? Someone who would do what needs to be done? That was always me.”
“Cill,” Titus coos, taking a step toward her. He pauses, then continues when she doesn’t try to back away this time. He looks to you for a moment, a pain flashing in his eyes at what he has to do, and your chest burns seeing him be gentle with someone else, especially her. “I know that. I know all of that.”
Priscilla gasps, lip wobbling as she pouts, “Th-then why...why are you bothering with her?”
Titus clicks his tongue, stepping into both your spaces. The hand that’s not on his gun subtly brushes your stomach, a movement so small Priscilla doesn’t catch it. She stands up straighter, looking up at Titus with wide eyes as he stands right in front of you.
“You know how I like to play my games, Cill,” Titus says. “Are you going to tell me you really forgot how I love to torture the mind just as much as the body? Look at you, look at how badly you want me, what lows you’ve stooped to, to get me.”
His face is so close, but his attention is all on her behind you, as he raises his gun and holds the barrel of it right to your head. A tear runs down her cheek as she sobs, “You’re so cruel to let it go on this long.”
“I know, Sweetheart, but it’s time to finish this, don‘t you think?” Titus whispers, and for just a split second, you can see a flash of revulsion in his eyes, before he dips his face down and presses a kiss to her lips.
She finally drops her hold on your neck.
At the same time, he carefully brings your hand to his pocket, where you feel the hard metal handle of his knife. That’s your signal.
You scream as you swing at her, and Titus drops his gun to back away with his hands up, smirking as he watches you nail her right in the face. Priscilla cries out in pain and lifts her knife to try to cut you in any way that she can, but you manage to dodge it in time, kicking the knife from her hand.
The force of it knocks her further to the ground, and you jam the heel of your foot onto her hand for good measure, crushing the bones with a delicious crunch.
“Ahh! You fucking bitch!” Priscilla screams in agony, broken hand clutched close to her chest.
She tries to go for the knife again, but you kick it away from her, turning to grab Titus’s from his pocket instead. She tries to get up in the one moment you take your eyes off her, but you’re back in time to hit the hilt of the knife onto her forehead, jamming it onto her skull several times while she falls to the ground, moaning and crying.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You spit down at her, grabbing her by the shoulders to yank her body off the ground.
“I deserve the life you’re living! I put all that fucking time in! You just walk in some broke, no-name, no-life, pathetic loser orphan, and think you get to be handed it?” Priscilla cries, the tears mixing with blood as they trail down her cheeks, and a huge gash oozes from her forehead. “Titus, baby, please, look at what she’s doing. She’s a fucking animal. You can’t bring children into the world with someone like—"
“SHUT UP!” You scream at her, punching her in the face, breaking her nose. The metallic smell of the blood has you licking your lips. “Do you know what I’ve done to earn my place? How many people I’ve killed?”
She tries to look behind you, to plead with Titus again, but he only stares hungrily at you. She knows that look, the ravenous, desperate starvation he would get when he had her tied up and seconds away from defiling her body in ways she’d only let someone of Titus Danforth’s status perform.
The things she let him do, only to lose out on all the power in the world to you.
And now he looks at you like that, the hunger coming from anticipation of violent acts you’re going to perform.
Still, she tries. “Titus!”
Desperation drips from her cries, but when he finally looks at her again, it’s with an emptiness of feeling. His eyes are indifferent to her, like she’s some object in the way of his goal. Like she’s a rotten fruit he has to waste time throwing in the trash. He wipes the taste of her from his lips with the back of his hand.
You’re tired of her looking at him like she has any entitlement to his soul. You own that soul, signed in blood.
You grab her by the jaw and force her to look at you, nails digging into her skin until it breaks, and the blood stains under your nails. “I told you, if you ever tried to destroy my family again, I would fucking kill you.”
Her eyes go wide, and she opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, as if there were any more arguments she could make that would actually convince you to spare her life.
All the wind is knocked out of her when you plunge Titus’s knife into her chest. A bright splatter of red flies through the air as you rip it from her, and her mouth drops open in a shocked, silent scream.
Time freezes, for just a moment. You stare into her terrified eyes, your heart beating so loud it’s the only sound in your ears, and you feel your body fill with a sick sense of strength. That fiery need to act, to attack until your limbs give out takes over. You felt it the first time you’d smashed Mrs. Le Domas’s head in with that stupid game box.
Senses flood back into real time, and you enter a trance as you raise the knife and lower it into her again.
You stab her over and over, eyes never leaving hers, blood flying all over your white nightgown, your face. You can feel the muscles of your cheeks twist and contort into a smile, and you hear yourself start to laugh, as the light fades from Priscilla.
Her body falls to the ground, lifeless and pale from loss of blood, the sound it makes it heavy as it lands. There’s probably about a hundred stab wounds from her chest to her lower belly, and this time you didn’t black out. You felt and saw every single one of them.
Behind you, Titus is absolutely rocked. His mouth is dropped open from heaving breaths, eyes blacked out, hands sweaty and twitching from the need to touch, to grab.
His eyes trail down from you to Priscilla’s body. Her eyes are blank, mouth opened in a scream, but completely baren. Her soul has already been ripped to hell, and he wonders if Mr. Le Bail smiled when he took it.
Titus remembers a moment they had very early in their...entanglement. He wasn’t sure at the time what they were, nor what he truly wanted from her, and he’d asked if she could love someone like him.
Priscilla had laughed.
“People like us don’t have any use for love.”
That was when he’d cut off any chance of trying to feel something for her. Their time became transactional almost, because she was one of the very few who could scratch an itch with him and come back for more. He knew why she would, he knew it was because she thought one day she’d sit next to him at the top of the world.
How wrong she was.
He looks back at you, the woman who loves him. The woman who is bringing his children into the world.
The woman who gives it to him just as good as he gives it to her.
Yes, Titus has great use for love.
You’re covered in blood, drenched in it so much that most of your white gown is stained pink. And you’re fuming, chest rising and falling quickly with deep, loud breaths, eyes looking wide and angry and wild.
Without a second thought, Titus practically floats over to you, caught in your trance as he takes you in his arms and kisses you.
You drop the knife and wrap yourself around him, whining into the kiss, eyes closed desperately tight. Priscilla’s blood coats Titus’s skin as you run your hands all around him, clawing your way to ripping his shirt off, so you can scratch down his chest.
He tastes that same blood on your lips in your kiss, and he resists the urge to lick up your face, clean you with his tongue. His lips trace down your neck, biting and moaning, reclaiming your skin, as you push your body flush up against his warmth, as though you could fuse to him. His cock is hard against your tummy and it sends an aroused thrill right to your core.
“Oh, my terrible little Lamb, my baby,” Titus whimpers pitifully, as he yanks down the straps of your nightgown, freeing your blood covered breasts. Your nipples are peaked from the cold air, and he looks at you with wide eyes, mouth dropped open and drooling from his need to latch onto them. “Such a fucking monster, so strong and so fucking sexy. Need you so bad, wanna fuck you hard.”
He tears down the dress the rest of the way, and it pools at your feet to reveal the rest of your naked body into the moonlight. Titus licks his lips at the sight of the glistening between your legs, the act of the kill has you dripping.
Before he can get his mouth where he really wants it, you grab onto his jaw hard, enough that your fingernails leave crescent shaped indents in his freckled skin. You force his face back, make him look at you, and he yields his control as you slap him on the cheek, the crack echoes loud through the night.
“You want to fuck me, Daddy?” You sneer at him meanly, grabbing his face again.
He nods his head and whimpers again, dick twitching in his pants. “Yes, baby, want to so bad.”
“Show me,” you say, voice low, seductive, pulling him closer to you. Your hands snakes around to the back of his neck, and you bring him in for another violent, biting kiss. It’s messy and wet and you don’t know who’s more desperately needy in their moans, but Titus dips his tongue into your mouth and you suck the mixture of blood from it willingly. Your grip moves to his shoulders and you push him back with both hands, eyes blown dark and wild. “Get on your knees.”
Titus smiles wide, white teeth shining like blood covered fangs as he drops to the ground, arms out and ready for your instruction. You think about the things Priscilla had offered to him, the ways she’d let him use her. All you think about is how you’ve done each of those, not just for his pleasure to appease him, but because they are all things that make you feel worshipped.
That’s all you want right now, a reminder that he is obsessed with you above all else, even the devil himself.
“I hated seeing you kiss her,” you say, pouting as your hand grazes down his cheek. “I know you had to, but you need to show me how you love me. Show me how you worship me.”
Titus already knows the way to show you, as he grabs you by the back of your legs and brings your body to him, kissing along the small swell of your belly. His fingers dip between your legs, and he moans at feeling of your slick seeping around his fingers. He takes a moment to rub the tips of those fingers along seam of your pussy, before dipping them between to slide into your entrance.
You moan, high and sudden at the way the fill you, so thick, and your mouth drops open. He’s looking up at you, eyes sparkling from the stars in them, lips pressed to your belly, fucking you slowly.
“I’ll worship you, my love,” Titus whispers, nuzzling his cheek to your skin. He lifts one of your thighs over his shoulder, and you grip into his silver curls for balance. “As long as I get to fuck you, but I already worship you for all time.”
"Make me come on your tongue the way I like,” you whine, “and you can fuck me as hard as you wish, any way you want. Be good for me, Daddy.”
And with a hungry grunt he’s on you. His fingers start to fuck into you hard and fast, curling up to that spot that drives you crazy, as his tongue dips between your lips to lick circles around your clit.
His moans are ravenous and low, vibrating into your pussy as he eats like a man starved. Eyes closed and lost in it, drowning in your juices as he works little whines and mewls from your lips. He uses all his strength to hold you up, as your balance starts to falter, while your head falls back and you roll your hips into his mouth, chasing that growing feeling of pleasure that pools in your belly.
“Fuck, oh fuck, that’s it Titus,” you moan, mouth dropped open, breath coming out in little catches. “Yeah, Daddy, just like that.”
Your legs start to wobble and your moans quickly shift into high pitched whines, chest rising and falling. Your fingers press harder into his hair, keeping him against you as he alternates between sucking on your clit, and rubbing with his thumb so his tongue can dip inside your pussy to drink you up like nectar.
His hand that grips your thigh is already leaving bruises, stained from Priscilla’s blood that covers both your bodies. He holds you tight to keep you up when there’s a turn in your breathing, and you let out a loud cry of his name into the night.
“Fuck, fuck, just like that, good boy,” you moan, as your pussy clenches around his fingers, and gush down his hand.
You quickly lose your balance, and collapse down onto his lap, legs on either side of him, where he easily catches you into another kiss. Your heart races, hands grabbing his cheeks, and you lick your slick from his mouth, the mixture with blood sweet on your tongue.
Below, you can feel Titus’s cock hard, twitching and aching to be buried inside your tight cunt. He’s holding you so hard by the hips, subtly moving you back and forth on his lap as the two of you make out on the cold ground.
“Baby, little lamb, so fucking good for me, all fucking mine,” he grunts into your mouth, voice cracking on almost every word from how desperate he’s grown. “Lemme fuck you, please.”
“Yeah, Ti, were so good for me, fuck me like you want.”
His muscles ripple as he quickly maneuvers you onto your back in the dirt, while he holds your wrists down with one hand. He doesn’t bother taking his pants off all the way, just shoves them down enough to get his cock out.
You scream out as he guides himself into your warm cunt into one hard thrust, smiling as he starts to fuck you roughly, no frills. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder as the other wraps around his waist, thrusting his hips in and out of you at a brutal pace.
He’s holding your wrists down above your head with both hands now, looking down at you with a dark, voracious intensity. “Look how deep you take me, Little Lamb. Pretty pussy just made to be ruined by me.”
“Yeah, Daddy,” you moan, fingers clawing at the ground below where they’re trapped. Your back arches up to him, and you can feel where the nature has scratched you up.
Titus lets out a long groan, eyes shutting as he tries to hold back from coming too soon, “Fuck, baby, c-can’t call me that, want this to last, shit. Doin’ so good for me.”
You smirk, but you hold to his request, also not wanting the moment to end too soon. It’s been so long since you’ve really been able to unleash on each other, and even now you can feel him holding back for the sake of the babies.
Still, the snarling and the growling and the moaning the mixes with the slap of his skin against you, the screams you release, and you know you must sound like animals.
Titus finally lets go of your wrists and you tug him down into a kiss, tugging hard at his curls as your pussy clenches around him. His hands are everywhere now, painting even more of your body in blood and bruises, covering you in his touch, erasing any sense of someone else on your skin.
"All mine, all fucking mine,” Titus repeats, whining frantically like he’s trying to remind himself more than you. He can’t shake the feeling of almost losing you again. His need to claim and to feel you, to keep you close and tangible, to make sure you both know that you’re still here, you’re always his.
His head dips down to your chest and he bites at your tits, sucking on your pert nipples, moaning and whimpering around them, while you beg him to fuck you harder.
“Say it, Little Lamb, say you’re mine,” Titus begs pathetically, sitting up to look at you.
You whine at the loss of his heat, and you bite your lip as your eyes go wide, nails scratching hard down his chest. You cover the angry marks from earlier with fresh lines, and roll your hips down into him, pussy pulsing from need.
Titus grabs you by the neck, stilling your movements in an instant as his own slow down. He fucks into you with slower, harder thrusts, cock hitting deep, and forcing the air from your lungs. “Tell me, Little Lamb. You already know I worship you. You know my soul is owned by you, nobody else, my sweet girl.”
His hand squeezes down for a second, and your head goes a little hazy as you smile. You hope his handprint is able to stay till the morning.
When he releases, you gasp for breath and choke, but your eyes are filled with a wild joy as you whimper, “’m all yours, Titus. My soul is yours, my body is yours, it’s all for you. Please, come inside me, fill this pussy, it’s all for you.”
“Shit,” his eyes roll back and he goes back to his rough pace, body collapsing on yours again. He can feel it building, that ball of pleasure that starts in his heart and climbs down, and he kisses you through it. “That’s it, Little Lamb, that’s right. My girl, come for me, my good girl.”
He brings a hand between your legs and rubs your clit, cock twitching inside you, body begging for release.
An entire night’s worth of adrenaline hits you all at once, white hot pleasure sparks through every nerve ending, and you let out a scream of his name again, back arching up into him, so you can feel his entire being consume you all over.
“Titus! Fuck!” your pussy clenches down hard, gushing around him as you come again.
You’re alive, truly alive, no matter what anyone has tried to do to you, tonight or all the nights before, and you feel it all the most right now, with your husband’s cock deep inside.
And Titus feels it too, biting down on your neck and crying, tears falling as his cock releases inside you. “Shit, baby, god you feel so fucking good.”
Both of you shake through it, coming down slowly as pleasure runs through both of your veins, energy passing between each other. Titus’s hand wanders down from your breast to your stomach, where his fingers spread possessively on the bump. You both take in deep breaths, as your hand joins on top of his, thumb running circles on his skin.
You kiss his cheek, drinking up the tears that fall. “Oh, my love, I’m still here.”
“Could have lost you, I’m a fucking idiot,” Titus mumbles, voice shaking like he’s a second away from sobbing. “Don’t know what I’d do with out you in this world. Can hardly remember who I was before.”
“I know,” you say, because you understand. Too often you have felt exactly the same. “But you haven’t lost me. You came for me, for us.”
You press down on his hand to make your point, and you feel his gasp on your neck when your tummy flutters under his touch. His babies, all three of you, are right where they are meant to be, here with him.
You lay together quietly for a few more minutes, your hands petting through his hair to calm him, his fingers tracing shapes on your tummy, until the bodily fluids that have covered both of you finally start to feel foul. Titus pulls out slowly, licking his lips at the sight of him leaking out of your cunt, one of his favorites to watch for as long as he can.
But quickly you tell him to get you into a bath, and who is he to argue with you after all he’s put you through?
He doesn’t bother to try to redress you, the dress will have to be burned anywhere, so he just stands up and scoops you up into his arms. He holds you like a new bride as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, before he begins to make the trek back through the woods toward the estate.
For just a moment, you turn back, looking at the place where his family’s legacy began, and where yours could have ended. Well, if that bitch had been just a little smarter.
Priscilla’s body lies cold, vacant eyes staring off into space in your direction, and you scrunch your nose in disgust at the sight of her.
“What do we do with that?” You ask, tapping on Titus’s shoulder.
You feel him shrug as he carries you up the path. “Leave it. The wolves will consume her, and our people will clean up what’s left in the morning.”
You plant a satisfied kiss to his cheek, finally relaxing in his arms. “So, do you think there will be any other family members or ex-girlfriends that will try to kill me, or are we finally done with all that shit?”
Titus snorts. “Baby, you know there’s always going to be family to contend with, but I promise she’s the only psycho ex I have. Not that you couldn’t handle them anyway.”
“You’re hiding them so you get to watch me kill them again, aren’t you?” you ask with a suspicious frown, eyes squinted.”
“Ha!” Titus laughs, shaking his head. “Little Lamb, I promise I would not let you get into the this situation again, no matter how fucking hot it is when you kill someone for me.”
You roll your eyes, but nuzzle closer to his neck anyway. “Seriously Ti, I thought I was done fighting. We’re about to have children, I can’t go through this again.”
And a sick, guilty coil forms in Titus’s stomach. “I know, and I know I promised you wouldn’t have to fight again, but I mean it this time. You’ve really proven yourself enough. No more games to play.”
There’s an air on hurt and pain in his voice that makes you believe him. You know he doesn’t actually want to see you in danger, no matter how much you can handle it. You’re the gift brought to Titus Danforth by Mr. Le Bail, the Devil himself. You’re something just as precious as you are dangerous.
A monster whose heart was designed to match his.
+
+
+
Four Years Later.
The sun is shining down on the garden, warm and orange from the afternoon, while butterflies flutter around the new blooms. A soft breeze whisps through the grass, creating a gentle shaking sound from the blades. It’s a perfectly peaceful, quiet day.
At least, it would be quiet if it weren’t for the pair of screaming, laughing toddlers running through the grounds while their father chases them.
“Ahhhh! Daddy no!” a little voice screeches happily into the air, as she attempts to escape the strong arms of Titus scooping her up and tossing her into the air.
“Gotcha!” Titus shouts back, cackling wildly.
It’s quickly followed by the sound of high-pitched laughter, and you lower the book you’ve been reading to find your husband twirling your daughter around in the air, as she giggles so hard her face turns pink. Her red hair, pulled into pigtail braids that curl at the end, is starting to come undone, and you’re pretty sure you can see little twigs and leaves stuck in the strands.
“What are you doing?” You ask with an amused shake of your head.
“Daddy chased us through the bushes!” Your boy piped up as he runs up to Titus with a big smile, tugging on his pants leg.
“Mhm, even though we have a very important and fancy lunch to go to in an hour?” You ask, but it's more of a very stern reminder statement.
Titus cringes, looking at the mess he made of his daughter’s hair, and he carefully puts her back on the ground. He kneels down with her to straighten out her little navy dress, gives her a kiss on the cheek, then sends her over to you to get fixed up.
She walks over with her head hung low, arms behind her back, and apologetic pout as she climbs into your lap. “Sorry, Mommy, but It's all Daddy’s fault.”
Titus makes a soft, offended sound that you ignore, and you give her a soft smile as you start to pick the nature out of her hair. “Oh, I don’t doubt that, Daddy is very naughty.”
“Hm,” Titus scoffs again, but when you make eye contact he simply smirks, as though to point out you’ve never complained about his naughtiness before. “Yes, because you’re always on your best behavior. Should I remind you about two weeks ago when you got them to play that prank on me during a work call?”
You smirk at the memory of dressing the twins up in creepy masks you found in the attack, and having them run at Titus with fake knives. In your defense, he’d been working nonstop, and nothing you were doing could distract him from it, so sadly, yes, you did have to use the kids. Ultimately, he found it to be completely hilarious, even if he spanked your ass raw that night in revenge.
Dahlia Violet and Prescott Chester Danforth were born just after midnight, the morning of Halloween. It was dark and stormy, lightning striking through the sky when you gave birth in one of the lavish baths of the Danforth Estate. Absolutely the perfectly way to bring your twins into the world.
They both came out crying, with striking red hair and big eyes, and both instantly calmed as soon as they were passed into their father’s arms. You’ll never forget the look on Titus’s face, the awe and wonder that someone like him could make two tiny things so beautiful. He’d been filled with the instant love he hadn’t felt since the first moment he saw you.
Even with time passing, his love for them hasn’t changed. Many a critic in your lives, the people who always misunderstand Titus, have said that his interest in all of this would pass. Titus Danforth can never be held down by a family, he’s too wild.
They simply don’t get it. They may know he has a monstrous side, but they do not know his heart.
You see his heart as Prescot reaches his hands up with a small, face-scrunching frown, and Titus pulls him up into his arms. Your boy has always been the more quiet one, not sensitive, but smart and inquisitive, always watching and studying any situation. He knows how to express anything he feels, very directly, and Titus has joked that he’s just like you and Ursula.
“You shouldn’t make Mommy mad,” Prescott says, pressing his little face into Titus’ cheek.
“Yeah?” Titus asks with a soft laugh. “Why’s that?”
Prescot shrugs. “Because she’s in charge.”
You snort at the same time that Titus lets out a raucous laugh and kisses his son’s cheek. “Smart boy, but what about me? You want to make me mad?”
“Daddy, you’re never mad!” Prescott proclaims.
Again, you can’t stop the snort that comes out, and you bite your lip to not laugh any louder.
Titus shakes his head at you as he walks over to the little patio area, and he sets Prescott down carefully in one of the seats. He straightens out the boy’s blazer jacket, and tips his face up to look at him. “I’m never mad at Mommy, or Dolly, and I am never mad at you, sweet boy. No matter what. Unless we get so messy we’re late to Mommy’s lunch.”
“You’re also going to make us late to stay with Auntie Ursula!” Dahlia whines.
Where Prescott stops at being calm and collected, Dahlia takes after her father, a little girl of action. She’s always buzzing to do things, to find new adventures, and to get into trouble. Spending a long weekend away in the city with just Ursula is exactly the kind of adventure she’s been needing.
“That excited to get away from us, Dolly?” Titus asks with a faux pout. “My little princess trying to escape the castle.”
“Auntie Ursula said her house is on top of the world!” Dahlia exclaims, clapping her little hands together. “But I’ll still miss you, Daddy!”
As soon as you release her hair, she hops off the seat and runs over to snatch her brother away from Titus, and you both smile as you watch them run, shouting something about racing to the town car.
Your heart has never been so full.
Titus comes over to help you up, and you pull him in for a quick kiss, enjoying the brief moment where the twins won’t interrupt you. You pull away to rub the lipstick from him, and his crinkly eyes never leave yours. He’s only gotten more handsome with age, still in that same shape you met him, still covered in freckles, with the same silver hair, only a hint of age from the last few years you’ve known him.
“Excited for a weekend all to ourselves?” he asks, wrapping your arm around his to walk you to the car. “Not that I won’t miss them.”
“No of course, I’m going to miss them every second,” you say. Still out of earshot of the twins, you stand up on your tip toes to whisper into Titus’s ear, licking the shell and tugging on the lobe, “You'll have to come up with some pretty big distractions for me.”
He cocks his brow at you and smirks. “Little Lamb, you have no idea what you’re in for.”
Before you can tease each other more over the promise of your first child free weekend in so long, the anticipation of being able to dabble in your old ways of running through the woods like animals heat, Titus is off to scoop the twins up again.
He gives you a sly wink over his shoulder, shouting, “Love you, my baby!”
“Yeah, yeah, love you too,” you say with an amused shake of your head. And you can’t help but smile as you watch the three of them together, still a little in disbelief that this is your life.
Off in the distance, in the shadows of the tree line, your eyes catch sight of the shadow of a man. He smiles at you and gives you a nod, before disappearing with a whisp of leaves in the breeze.
For a moment you pause, then still looking at where you could have sworn he just stood, you smile, and nod back.
FIN.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N 2: again, thank you to everyone who has been reading this series!!! i have had sooooo much fun with Titus, and I'm glad you all have too ! PLEASE comment and REBLOG!!! reblogs do more than likes!!!
Been working on this masterlist for more than a year and would love to share these masterpieces with you all. NONE of the following fics are written by me, this is just my collection of some the most noteworthy fics I’ve read over the years that are forever on my mind and in my heart
Each author is credited and I recommend you check them out and give them a follow if you enjoy their work as well! Fics will continue to get added regularly, and link to this masterlist will be at the bottom of my own masterlist- M 🫶🏻
Tags/Warnings
☁️ Fluff
🌙 Mature / suggestive
🌕 Adults only / smut (18+ MDNI)
⭐️ Personal favourites
Up ahead: Call of Duty, The Last of Us, Star Wars, Narcos, The Pitt, Animal Kingdom, Superman
Call of Duty
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
‘Indigo’ by @slater-baby ☁️ 🌙 🌕 ⭐️ “Ghost didn't like to dwell on the past. Whatever happened, happened. He left Manchester, covered his face, took a new name. To him, it was little more than moving on from the past, from all the blood and gore of his family life. But then on some bleary, Tuesday morning, you somehow stand before him: his ex from before he was Ghost.”
‘I Feel It In My Bones’ by De_caffeinated on ao3 ☁️ 🌙 🌕 ⭐️ “Bones is a quiet combat medic with a troubled past and enough knowledge to fill a library. As whispers of a new bioweapon begin to spread across Europe, she is assigned to Task Force 141. Still haunted from her previous deployment, she thinks she can only count on witnessing new horrors, spilled blood, and the sound of dogtags clinking against the ground. What she isn't expecting is finding a team to count on, or the way her heart quickens in the presence of a certain skull-faced man.”
‘Ghosts & Mirages’ by @stararch4ngelqueen ☁️ 🌙 🌕 ⭐️ “After a dangerous encounter leading towards your own capture and torture, you; Codename "Mirage", went from one of the best snipers on the task force with a bubbly sense of humor and strong wit, to a stone-cold demeanor woman who let her vendetta get the better of her, almost costing her the lives of her teammates. Ghost wasn't too happy about this, and based off experience, he refuses to let your mind head down that path any further.”
‘Mail Order Bride’ by @beebymoonlight ☁️🌙🌕 “a collection of scenarios between simon and his mail-ordered bride”
‘Squeeze Me, I Squeak’ by Charlie_M on ao3 ☁️ 🌙 🌕 “While your interactions with Lieutenant Riley started out cold and tense, he's been warming up to your secondary specialty. Apparently, you make for a great stress-toy.”
‘Heartless’ by @thevampiremarie ☁️ 🌙 🌕 “You need health insurance. Ghost is sick of sharing living quarters with the rest of the 141. Soap, your childhood friend, thinks the two of you can fix each other’s problems.”
‘Give you the gun (blow me away)’ by endymions on ao3 🌙 🌕 “In the back streets of Prague, you watch through the scope of your rifle as your target—one of Makarov’s inner circle men, the man you’ve been tailing for two and a half weeks—gets his throat viciously slit from behind.”
‘In The Walls’ by @theorist-fox ☁️ 🌙 🌕 “Simon fucks his Sergeant until he’s not sure whether it’s sex or love.”
‘In Limbo’ by @ilium-ilia 🌙🌕 “Joining the mafia is no different than selling a soul to the devil, and it’s something Simon Riley is all too willing to do if it means keeping his family safe. It isn’t until he meets you- the girl who runs from everything- that he realizes there are much worse things to get caught up in.”
‘You’re Drunk’ by @howyoulovelikeweaponskill 🌙🌕“y’wanna know what stupid looks like?” he mutters, head dropping down until his lips near your jaw. “you, wakin up with my fuckin dog tags round your neck and nothin else.”
‘Through Me (The Flood)’ by @peachesofteal ☁️🌙🌕
‘Splinter’ by @bitterrfruit 🌙🌕 “Your car breaks down in a snowstorm. A crude stranger takes you in from the cold.”
‘Houndtooth’ by @bitterrfruit 🌙🌕 “You're the pampered wife of a russian warlord. Ghost hunts you down and finds a use for you.”
Captain John Price
‘Squeak ‘Em If You Got ‘Em’ by Charlie_M on Ao3 ☁️ 🌙 “You belong to Task Force 141. Task Force 141 belongs to Captain Price. It's simple math - but math was never your strong suit.”
‘Landscape with honey’ by @ceilidho ☁️🌙🌕“You've been living in this town for almost six months; it's only now that John's picked up on your scent.”
‘Ursa Major’ by @the-californicationist ☁️ 🌙 🌕 “Lumberjack John Price, retired British Army captain, owns and operates 5,000 acres of selective harvesting land for his logging company. Unfortunately, you work for an environmental firm as a consultant, and it’s your job to tell him he has to stop logging at once since his harvest is encroaching on rare bear habitats. But, something’s not quite right about the bears, or about these lumberjacks, and you’re determined to get to the bottom of it.”
‘I Wonder How Many Days I’ll Bleed’ by thethingsthatimake on Ao3 “Captain John Price is forced to lay low, so Laswell sends him to a secluded home in Alaska - inhabited by you.”
TF141
‘Cherry Red, Crimson Blood’ by @soaps-mohawk ☁️ 🌙 🌕 “Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it. It works for a while, until the Omega Initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. Fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so Price thinks. As each member of the team gets closer to you, things begin to come to light, not only about you but about the decision to force you into their lives. Maybe, just maybe, Price was wrong and the 141 does need an omega after all.”
König
‘Trapper, Keeper’ by @tinypandacakes ☁️🌙 🌕 “A dark, hooded figure emerged from the dense snowstorm, growing far too tall as it approached. You shuffled back weakly in the bloodstained snow and winced as you jostled the trap clamped on your boot “What is this?” the man’s voice rumbled, muffled behind his mask. “You are…not what I expected to catch today.”
‘Obession’ by c4rp3_n0ctem on Ao3 “From the first second he saw you, König was completely and utterly obsessed with you. So when you ran into him late at night, tears streaming down your face, the universe served you to him on a silver platter. "Come in, we can sit down in my room and get you cleaned up, and then you can tell me what happened, ja?" he said quietly, a smirk hidden beneath his mask as he guided you into his room.”
‘Sworn Sword’ by @vivwritescrappythings “You go to a tourney, a knight you’ve never seen before wants your favor”
The Last Of Us
Joel Miller
‘A Stranger’s Heart Without A Home’ by @morning-star-joy ☁️🌙 🌕 ⭐️ “After leaving the Fireflies, you ended up in the settlement of Jackson with Tommy, unwilling to part with the only friend you had left. You were even able to carve somewhat of a life out for yourself after a few years. Until Tommy's older brother shows up. You think Joel Miller is gruff and rude, and you're pretty sure he doesn't have a fond opinion of you either. That doesn't stop the attraction you feel for each other, but he's gone in a day. You settle back into a routine, thinking you'll never see him again. Then Joel returns a few months later, and screws up everything about the comfortable life you had established in Jackson.”
‘Short Days, Long Nights’ by @frannyzooey ☁️🌙 🌕 “Part of a band of travelers, your party is slowly picked off one by one, until there are only two of you left. Finding an abandoned cabin in the woods, you decide to make camp there until you figure out your next move. As the seasons change, the nights get longer and longer…”
‘Fear of God’ by @netherfieldren ☁️🌙 🌕 “Big bad Joel Miller falls in love and doesn't know how to deal with it.”
‘So Much To Lose’ ☁️🌙 🌕 by @auteurdelabre “Newly settled into Jackson City, you’re assigned to patrol duty with Joel Miller; a man of rough edges and cool appraisals. His story is buried deep beneath scars of loss while you hide your own grief behind flour-dusted hands and the desperate hope of belonging. What begins as forced proximity slowly shifts into something fragile and all-consuming. But as the past creeps forward through old wounds and the ever-present threat of raiders, your feelings for one another become both a sanctuary and a liability. In a world already broken, where there is already so much to lose, can you let yourself love Joel Miller?”
‘One Thing I’m Missing’ by @pedropeach ☁️ 🌕 “You don't, under absolutely any circumstances, talk about it. Or… You and Joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming.”
‘Texas Sun’ ☁️🌙 🌕 by fromtheclouds on Ao3 “Joel doesn’t know how to describe what you were to him. You’d never made any promises to each other, but you loved his daughter like she was your own. Had he known what would happen, he wouldn't have let you go.”
‘Lavender’ ☁️🌙 🌕 by @justagalwhowrites “You're a college student in Austin, Texas, who gets a summer job nannying Sarah Miller. It's not long before her dad sees you as more than a babysitter - or more than a friend. But life - and an apocalypse - have other plans.”
‘Yearling’ ☁️🌙 🌕 by @justagalwhowrites “After years of surviving in the wilds of Wyoming after the cordyceps outbreak, you find yourself in Jackson. It's a town filled with friendly faces and the kind of world you hardly remember, let alone can connect with or understand. But one man - Joel Miller, another loner, like you - makes you think that trying to find your place in society again might be worth it.”
Narcos
Javier Peña
‘Siempre’ by @kiwisbell ☁️🌙🌕 “She’s a waitress in a little café. He’s a DEA agent who likes the coffee. Just the coffee. That’s all.”
‘It’s Never Too Late’ by @javierpena-inatacvest ☁️🌙 🌕 ⭐️ “You are an elementary school teacher who just moved to Texas for a fresh start when you meet a very handsome man from the Laredo Sheriff's Department coming to give your class a presentation. After your co-workers pull some strings for you to meet again, you and Javier Peña find yourselves falling head over heels for each other.”
‘The Third Wheel’ by songsformonkeys on ao3 ☁️🌙🌕"You had often wondered how you ended up here, the third wheel in the well-oiled, grumpy and semi-alcoholic DEA duo consisting of Steve Murphy and Javier Peña... Actually, that was a lie. You hadn't wondered at all. You knew exactly how you'd ended up here. The two male agents had never been particularly good with following orders, which had been a thorn in ambassador Noonan's side since day one. And as everyone who knew the old saying “if you can't beat 'em, join 'em” could tell you, you were the intended solution to that particular problem. And boy had you let everyone down.
‘Hermosa’ by keala on ao3 🌙🌕 “You shouldn't have gotten so drunk at that Christmas party. You shouldn't have worn that tight, little dress. You shouldn't have offered to take a certain drunk DEA agent home. You also shouldn't have answered that phone.”
Star Wars
Din Djarin
‘Rough Day’ by guardianangelcas on ao3 ☁️🌙 🌕 ⭐️ “Who knew that agreeing to babysit a bounty hunter’s weird, green little child would be so full of surprises.”
‘Beskar Doll’ by @justagalwhowrites ☁️🌙 🌕 “You have a knack for finding trouble, be it in the midst of Galactic Civil War or when trying to live the quiet life after getting out of the game. So when you're stuck fleeing your new home planet after pissing off the wrong people - again - there's only one person willing to take you: the Mandalorian. But after years of fighting faceless men, you're not the trusting type toward someone always wearing a helmet and the Mandalorian quickly suspects there's more to you than he knows.”
‘What Kind of Man’ by so_much_for_stardust on ao3 ☁️🌙 🌕 ⭐️ “The first time she caught sight of that silver armor, she just knew that the man would be trouble. She's just a girl who works in a bar, and he's just a guy who needs a job. They weren't looking for anything. It's funny how the galaxy sometimes gives you something you didn't know you needed at the time when you most needed it. They both just needed to scratch an itch. They weren't going to get into a relationship... they weren't...”
‘Something More’ by @amiedala ☁️🌙 🌕 “Meeting the Mandalorian was like colliding into the rest of your life at a moment’s notice.”
‘Elusive Quarry’ by @ninaloveshiddles ☁️🌙 🌕 “‘And what makes her so elusive?’ his tone bored, pushing Karga to get to the point. ‘I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself, won’t you?’ Mando takes a job hunting down the reader, but bringing her in may be more of a challenge than he realized.”
‘The Space Between (your heart & mine)’☁️🌙 🌕 by dirty_holy_things on ao3 “The galaxy had dealt you a rough hand of sabacc in this life. A family who couldn’t comprehend or understand your connection to the Force; a wolf in sheep’s clothing, who used and abused you for your talents; and you had come to understand that the galaxy cared very little for its inhabitants. But an unexpected visit from a Mandalorian offered you the chance to leave it all behind, to reclaim your place as the author of your story.”
‘The Stowaway’ by ThroneoftheThorn on ao3 ☁️🌙 🌕 “You hadn't planned on fleeing for your life, jumping planet, and stowing away on a random vessel. Nor had you planned on being employed by a Mandalorian wanted by the empire for kidnapping a random baby, having an imperial bounty on your head, and tagging along on dangerous bounty hunter missions. Least of all, you REALLY hadn't planned on somehow integrating yourself into the tiny clan of two you found yourself in. The force moves in mysterious ways, you suppose.”
Poe Dameron
‘The Bet’ by guardianangelcas on ao3 ☁️🌙 🌕 “1. No sex. 2. No touching yourself. 3. No orgasms.”
Kylo Ren/Ben Solo
‘Velvet Nights’ by orphan_account on ao3 🌙🌕 “In which you and the Commander Kylo Ren navigate through shared unspoken tensions while recovering information from the wreckage of a First Order TIE fighter.”
’Reconditioned’ by Lionhearted_DragonEmpress on ao3 (deleted fic but it was 500k of the best writing that is forever ingrained in my mind and always deserves to be mentioned)
Superman
Clark Kent
’The Gravity Between Us’ by th3honored1 on ao3 ☁️🌙🌕⭐️ “You grew up beside Clark Kent, the quiet boy with kind, blue eyes and a secret heartbeat. From scraped knees to stolen glances, Smallville held your shared history— but time has a way of turning best friends into strangers. Now you’re a nurse in Metropolis, and he’s the city’s beacon of hope. Maybe you were meant to fall apart. Maybe you'll find your way back.”
‘Take Me Back to Smallville’ by fitbby14 on ao3 ☁️🌙🌕 “You've returned to your hometown of Smallville, here to finally get your life on track and figure out where it is you belong. But your childhood friend, Clark Kent is back too and that...complicates things.”
The Pitt
Dr. Jack Abbot
‘Diagnosis : Married?’ by @s-writing-s ☁️🌙⭐️ “One glitchy tablet, one HR email, and suddenly you’re married to your attending, Jack Abbot. HR thinks it was intentional and has already started merging your records. Claim it was a mistake, and your residency could be delayed. With only three months left until you’re an attending, Jack agrees to play along. Pretending to be married might save your career- but can your heart survive the side effects?”
‘Transatlantacism’ by @se7entyrell ☁️🌙 “Jack Abbot has had a terrible eighteen months. Truly one for the books. Losing his mother, and then you, sometimes he wonders what the point is. If things will ever look up. Until you turn up at the Pitt, with a little girl who looks exactly like him.”
‘Sometimes’ by @thatcorporategirlie ☁️🌙“sometimes…you meet a handsome doctor during an unexpected airport delay while travelling over the holidays”
Dr. Michael Robinavitch
‘All For Something’ by @theetherealbloom ☁️🌙 “It’s your birthday, but the Pitt doesn’t slow down for that. Between subway accidents, drownings, shootings, and the quiet heartbreak of patients who come back again and again, you do your best to keep your hands steady and your head clear. Somewhere in the blur of alarms and blood, you realize you’re holding onto something you shouldn’t- feelings for your quietly grieving chief attending. At the Pitt, you don’t just learn how to save lives. You learn how hard it is to ignore your own heart.”
‘My Heart Is On The Floor For You’ by @domesticblisss ☁️🌙 “She never thought she would beat Robby’s seven week itch, but almost a year later, she finds herself in a label-less relationship with him. They are happy, but several little things pile up, and when the arrival of her ex, John Carter, gets added to the mix, the recipe for chaos is served.”
‘Hold Still’ by @blinded-by-the-lightz ☁️🌙🌕 “Dr. Michael Robinavitch does not like you. You challenge his authority, question his methods, and refuse to be impressed by seniority alone. He responds with sarcasm, micromanagement, and a refusal to give an inch. For him, control is how he survives loss. For you, distance is how you learned to stay safe. Naturally, you end up sleeping together. What’s meant to be uncomplicated becomes anything but, as grief, control, and avoidance collide in the space between shifts.”
Dr. Brendon Park
‘Vegas Baby’ by @lpmurphy ☁️🌙“A week-long medical conference in Vegas was exactly what you needed- a break from the Pennsylvania winter, a chance to network ass your fellowship wound down, maybe even an excuse to have a little fun. What you absolutely didn’t need was to spend that entire week with Brendon fucking Park; your arrogant, insufferable, asshole of a boss- much less in the same hotel room.”
Animal Kingdom
Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody
‘Redamancy’ by @softundermoonlight ☁️🌙🌕⭐️ “Andrew has survived his whole life by wanting nothing. Until Craig introduces one of his friends, and suddenly, Andrew wants everything and more.”
‘Three Years’ by @fru1t4fr0gs ☁️🌙🌕 “You and Pope have loved each other since you were teenagers. And then he went to prison, and cut you off. No apology, no explanation, nothing. Just a sledgehammer to your heart and utter radio silence.”
‘Before We Knew Better’ by @longlostx11 ☁️🌙🌕 “When Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody was taken into care Smurf pulled some strings and got him put in a place close to Oceanside. That place was with you and your parents. Something Smurf would later regret when she realized that the bond you and Andrew forged in the month he was there was never going away. The years went by and the older boy became your best friend. Your protector. Your person. Fast forward and when Andrew gets out of prison he finds out Smurf’s hatred for you has gone to a whole other level.”
‘Pope’s Girl’ by @evancelinewrites ☁️🌙🌕 “What starts as a mutually beneficial arrangement between you and Pope Cody slowly becomes something far more complicated once the lines between lust, comfort and attachment begin to blur. But the deeper you get pulled into the Cody family, the more you realize people like Pope were never really meant to belong to themselves.”
‘Love You Anyway’ by @rynwrites4fun ☁️🌙 “You’re best friends with Deran Cody, a surfer with big dreams. When he brings you to a party, you meet his brothers but don’t know about their criminal lifestyle. Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody soon realizes you don’t belong in their dangerous world.”
tags: andrew "pope" cody x fem!reader, !!!possible spoilers for the animal kingdom finale!!!, near-death experience, hurt andrew, canon typical violence, mentions of death, blood, non-descriptive injuries, andrew gets his happy ending, 18+ MDNI
notes: I saw that one Shawn interview where he spoke about how different he'd make Pope's ending, and I couldn't help but want to write it into existence in my own way. I hope you all enjoy this, if you'd like to join my permanent master list, please comment here! enjoy! and if you'd like to join my permanent master list, please comment here!
word count: 4.5k
Andrew’s bleeding body and betrayed soul burned almost as hot as the house behind him.
Flames threw heat against his back with every staggering step he took. His large hand pressed against the wounds littering his torso, his shirt squishing wetly under his palm. Each inhale and exhale caused spurts of blood to continue soaking the fabric. Exhaustion dragged him down like a ball and chain; he was so tired.
He wondered if this was it, if he was about to just give up in the house that started it all. Surely someone had already called about the fire; surely cops and other federal officers were on their way. But even with those thoughts, Andrew couldn’t help but worry about everyone but himself.
The pool lapped in crashing, rhythmic waves against the concrete side, a calm sound compared to the raging chaos around him. With a grunt, he lowered himself to sit on the edge, boots coming to rest on the first stair, the fabric instantly soaking in the chlorine scented water. His body ached, ached, ached, and his mind reeled with the last hour where everything went so horribly wrong.
His betraying nephew, his lost and probably injured baby brothers, his fading life; Andrew wasn’t sure which one hurt the most.
With shaking hands, he pulled out two items from his back pocket: his phone and a small photo. The corners of his mouth failed to turn at the sight of his younger self and his sweet-looking twin that he had failed so many years ago; J had made sure that his failure to protect her sank deeper and hurt more than his wounds. A small sob pushed out in one puff of air, and a singular tear made its way across his cheeks, mixing with the blood trickling from a cut near his eye.
Andrew placed the photo down carefully and looked at his phone second. Behind him, the fire continued to roar on, leaving no part of the famous Cody house untouched. His attention should have been on getting out of there, on finding Deran and Craig, but all he could think about was the phone call he had to make. For a split second, he hesitated, thumb frozen over the contact, before he touched the screen.
You picked up in two rings. “Andy?” you breathed, voice already filled with a panic that made his heart clench. “Andy, what’s going on. I saw—you were being transferred, but—the news, I don’t know what’s happening.”
He pinched his eyes shut, allowing more tears to squeeze their way out of his tear ducts. “I’m sorry,” he said first. “I’m so sorry.” He could almost envision your pinched, worried face if he thought hard enough. “You need to listen to me.”
“What’s going on?” you repeated. “Talk to me.”
Iron-tanged saliva pooled around his tongue. “Everything went south. J talked; Craig and Deran are gone but—” He inhaled sharply. “I don’t know if they’re going to make it.”
He couldn’t stand the sound of your shaking breathing on the other line, the one you made when you worried on his behalf.
“Andy—”
“There’s money,” he interrupted, so awfully aware of the growing heat behind him. “In your name. You’re gonna be taken care of, I made sure of it. You’ll never have to worry about anything, understand?”
“Money? What? What are you saying, Andy?”
He looked down and over at the photo then down to his pool-soaked boots. “I think this is it for me,” he whispered, heart breaking right into two at the thought of leaving you alone in this world. “Cops are comin’; the house . . . I took care of it.”
“You’re at the house?” you questioned, and Andrew could hear the tell tail sound of your keys jingling on that keychain he always told you would mess with the ignition.
He mentally cursed himself for the slip up, not wanting you to come after him and possibly find what he left behind. “Stay home,” he ordered. “Don’t-don’t come here; it’s not safe.”
“But—”
“Promise,” he stated, hand reaching to pick up the photo again. “Promise you won’t come here.” Each word hurt to get out.
“I’m not going to leave you to die, Andrew,” you argued. “Not when I can do something about it.”
“No,” he moaned, sides protesting with the word, body tensing with fear at the thought of you driving over. “Sweetheart, don’t come.”
Your keys stopped jingling, and he quietly sighed in relief. However, his heart sunk down to his toes when the sound of your car humming to life filled the speaker. The tires squealed.
“Just,” you started, pausing when words failed. “Wait for me. Please, Andy, wait for me. I’ll be there soon; you know this. You don’t get to die on me, Andrew Cody.” Your voice rose with each sentence.
Andrew sat there for another moment before his world slowly tipped to the side. His bones protested at the change, and his shoulder screamed when it came to rest on the concrete. Like sticky molasses, he shifted slowly until his hands dipped into cool water, photo of him and Julia quickly becoming soaked. His chest heaved in heavy, labored breathing. His poor auburn curls flattened under the weight of his head against the brick outline.
“Andy?” you whimpered. “Are you there?”
It took him a minute to gather the strength to speak. “Yeah,” he croaked. “’M here.”
“Do you remember what you told me the first time you walked me home?”
This time, Andrew’s lips quirked upward for a millisecond at the memory. “Yeah.”
“You said—” He heard you thickly swallow. “You said that no matter what, you wouldn’t leave me behind.”
He closed his eyes.
“A-and if-if—” It was almost like you couldn’t even speak the idea of him dying into existence in fear that it’d happen. “That’s breaking your promise.”
Andrew stayed silent as sirens wailed in the distance to the point that he thought that you could probably hear them through your phone. He didn’t want you mixed up in any of this; he had tried his damn hardest to keep you as far away from his family activity as possible.
“I’m almost there, okay? I’m coming.”
He didn’t know how much time had passed between your sentences, the world becoming blurry and sounds reaching his brain through cotton. He had lost a hold on the picture minutes ago, and it had slowly drifted out of reach, close to being so waterlogged that it threatened to dip below the surface and sink to the bottom. The only thing he kept a firm grip on—even if his strength was quickly waning—was the phone, his one lifeline to you.
Dark black spots danced in his vision, and his breathing stuttered and slowed.
“Almost there,” you kept repeated, like saying that would grant you the power of teleportation. “I’m almost there, and then, I’m going to get you all patched up. You’re going to be just fine. We’ll move somewhere safe, start a future together, just like we talked about yeah?”
Andrew’s chest heaved. “Yeah.”
“Tell me what you see, Andrew. What do you want our future to look like; keep talking to me.”
The next few words hurt, but he wasn’t just going to leave you without saying anything else. “A house.”
He heard a large sniff, followed by a watery exhale. “Yeah? What kind of house.”
“Big. Safe. Warm.”
“It sounds so nice.”
“Full.” He closed his eyes. “Full house.”
“You always did want four kids,” you tried, but the attempt to lift spirits fell flat. “What else?”
“All girls,” he muttered, his energy almost draining each time his mouth opened. “First one, then twins, and one baby.”
A small laugh crackled through the speaker. “Sounds like a dream. You’re going to be such a good dad, Andy.”
He hated the way you continued to speak like he was going to make it out alive. He knew you were still on the way, and the sirens were slowly growing louder even through his cotton (blood)-filled ears. His fingers loosened, and the phone dropped onto the ground with a thunk.
“Andrew? What was that?”
He thought he responded, but really, the words were all jumbled in his mouth. He dragged his cheek across the rough concrete to get his mouth closer to the dropped phone. The black spots had grown significantly as blood continued to pour from his body.
With one last large breath, he said, “I love you.”
His mind went quiet soon after, despite your yelling across the line for him to hold on. All fight left his body in a single moment, frame deflating under the weight of what was about to happen. Andrew Cody was close to death, and for the first time since meeting you, he felt truly at peace. Every blink of his eyes slowed; he didn’t know which one was going to be the last, but when his eyelids finally settled, and he couldn’t find the strength to open them again, he fully welcomed the darkness.
_______________________
You didn’t know what to expect to find when your car squealed into the fully-flame-engulfed Cody house’s driveway.
Andrew had gone silent on his end almost two minutes ago, and your heart thundered against your sternum. You didn’t even pull the keys out of the ignition before your door swung open. Your feet hit the ground, and you dashed around the corner to the side fence entrance. It took your shaking hands two tries before the latch gave way. Flames roared in your ears as you pushed through the gate, but all you could focus on was the Andrew-sized lump lying unmoving at the pool’s edge.
A cry of pure anguish tore through your throat. You didn’t stop running until your knees hit the pool’s ledge. You didn’t have time to dwell on the pain of your joints.
“Andrew?” you questioned, hands reaching to roll him over on his back. His body swayed under the motion, completely boneless. “Andrew?” Your hand curled into a fist and rubbed erratically against his sternum, just like you’d seen on TV. “Come on; come on!” Tears began streaming steadily down your face. “Andy, Baby, come on! Don’t do this to me!”
When he failed to make any signs of waking up, you quickly dug two fingers into the side of his neck and held your breath, waiting—hoping to feel something, anything below his skin. When you felt a dull pulse, you pulled your fingers away with a gasp of relief.
“You stay with me, Andrew Cody,” you grunted as your hands slipped under his arms, back straining under his dead weight.
Really, you hadn’t thought anything through; Andrew was almost double your weight, but the adrenaline coursing through your body was somehow enough for you to start dragging him across the backyard.
Almost back to the fence, you stumbled, ass falling down to the grass with Andrew pressing down on your front. Almost on the next street over, the sirens were getting dangerously close. If you didn’t move in the next few moments, they’d either drag you away and shoot Andrew on the spot as a convicted and escaped murderer or they’d drag you away and leave him to burn along with the house. You couldn’t let that happen; you’d rather die than let that happen.
So, with all the strength you could muster, you stood back up and kept yanking. Andrew stayed unconscious as his body bumped along the grass and then dragged across the small bit of driveway. A deep groan from the house had your head whipping up in time for you to witness the integrity give way under the flames. Plumes of smoak wafted high, but Andrew was already put in the passenger seat with the back all the way down for him to lie against. If you happened to pass officers on the way out, they’d only see you, Andrew being covered by the door.
Just like when you pulled in, your tires squealed on the way out. Your left hand gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles while the other held onto Andrew’s limp hand, thumb brushing against his split knuckles. Through the air, your phone rang a few times before a voice answered on the other line.
“Deran?” you called out.
He answered with your name in a saddened tone. “Yeah?”
“Where are you? Is Craig with you?”
A sobbed choke followed. “Craig’s . . . Craig’s—fuck!”
You bit down on your bottom lip to stop it from wavering, and your hand gripped Andrew’s just a tad bit tighter, knowing he was about to meet the same fate.
“Please,” Deran said, not waiting for you to say anything else. “Please tell me you’ve heard from Pope. He went back to the house to go after J; he said he’d find us, but—” He shakily exhaled. “But it sounded like he was saying goodbye instead.”
Your eyes drifted from the road down to Andrew, who still remained unconscious. “I have him, but Deran—” You looked back toward the road, blinking rapidly to rid your eyes of tears. “It’s bad. There’s so much blood. I—” You sniffed loudly. “I have to get him to a safe place. Is there anywhere you can think of?”
The line went silent for a few moments. “Smurf had a house . . . in Encinitas. I can meet you there, but . . . do you think he’ll last that long?”
“He’ll have to. Or I’ll bring him back just to kill him myself,” you muttered, spinning the steering wheel under your palm to take the closest exit. “Send me the address, and Deran?”
He sighed heavily. “Yeah?”
“Stay safe, okay? I’ll see you there.”
You hung up without another word, and the address came through not even a breath later. Your thumb continued to run across Andrew’s knuckles the entire 13.4-mile drive, hand never once letting go of his. The only thing that kept you from losing hope entirely was the slow up and down movement of his chest. Oh how you prayed for his hazel eyes to open, but even with your muttering and begging, they stayed closed.
Every so often, you’d look over your shoulder or stare right through the rearview mirror, heart thudding in awful anticipation of possibly seeing any battalion of police cars following you. But as your car stuttered to a halt in front of a non-descript house, the fear of being found was slowly overtaken by the fear of truly losing Andrew.
You exhaled slowly, forehead coming to rest against the wheel for just a moment, giving yourself a small chance to breath before you got out of the car. You quickly rounded the hood and opened the passenger door. Deran was nowhere in sight, and you didn’t want to wait for him to get there to help you transfer Andrew indoors. He needed to get inside as quickly as possible.
So, for the second time in thirty minutes, you shoved your arms under his and pulled with all your might. His feet hit the ground hard, but it was at least better than his full body. Your feet scuffled along, sandals definitely not the best choice for lugging your almost-dead fugitive boyfriend into a safehouse.
His weight pressed against you as you tried to get through the door, mentally thanking whoever last stayed there for stupidly forgetting to lock it. With one hand, you twisted the knob, and a wave of heat washed over you once you got through the threshold. You didn’t dare stop until you lugged Andrew onto the closest couch.
You all but collapsed next to him, shoulder pressed against his arm that had fallen over the side. Without thinking, you reached up and gingerly brushed a curl away from his face. He didn’t move one inch, and that terrified you.
You weren’t a doctor. You weren’t certified to give him any medical attention. However, that didn’t stop you from ripping his shirt off, finally laying eyes on his multiple wounds and bruising that almost swallowed his skin. Your hands hovered over his torso, mind not knowing where to even begin.
The sound of the door creaking open, though, had you grabbing the gun from his waistband and pointing it toward the front. Your finger shook against the trigger, but when the door opened fully and reveal an exhausted Deran, a sigh of relief wheezed from your lungs.
“Deran,” you sobbed, pushing up from the ground and speed walking over to his open arms. He smelled of thick sweat and blood, but the solidness of his arms around your shoulders was enough to make you feel safe. “P-please; I don’t know-know what to do.”
Deran took one look over your shoulder, and his breath hitched of his older brother looking closer to death than he’d ever seen. His arm slipped from your body as he walked over in small, hesitant steps. “He—” He sucked in a breath. “He’s not dead, right?”
“No,” you breathed out almost instantly. “He’s still holding on. But with all the blood loss, it’s going to take him a long time to wake up.” Your arms wrapped around your middle. “But he has to-has to wake up.”
You watched Deran lean down and press his forehead against Andrew’s before withdrawing. Recovery was going to be long, and the moment he woke up, you’d have to move him quickly to someplace safer. But all you could do for now was join Deran at the couch and stand like guard dogs, watching over Andrew as he slept.
_______________________
Andrew tensed the moment he became cognitive enough to know that he wasn’t dead.
His hands clenched at his sides before taking fistfuls of plush couch cushion. His bones ached as he lied there, unknowing exactly there was. If he’d been caught by police, a couch would be the last place they’d put him. And if he actually died, he wondered if God was playing a trick on his mind, putting him someplace comfortable before he’d be judged for his sins. Neither idea though seemed to stick while he pushed himself in an upward position. He blinked rapidly, and the scene before him came into a sharp, vivid image.
Bloodied rags and bottles of alcohol covered the spans of the small table that seemed to have been haphazardly pushed out of the way. Lines of drying, brown blood made a small path from his couch to the front door, and Andrew could only guess it all belonged to him. He kept a hold of the cushion in a grounding fashion. The last thing he remembered was your scared voice begging him to keep talking.
Flashes of pain raked through his soul, and panic began to bubble under his skin.
He’d been taken from his burning grave. He didn’t know where you were or if you had even made it to the Cody house. The idea of you pulling up, running inside just to not find his body had him itching to stand. But his knees buckled the moment he tried to get up, and a low groan pushed from his chest.
The sound must have echoed, because a thunder of footsteps followed almost instantly. Andrew tensed again, mind running with the possibility of who had actually taken him away. His hand reached for the gun he knew he had tucked in his waistband, but all he grabbed onto was an empty space.
His hands would have to be enough. They curled into fists and rose in front of his chest; however, they immediately fell back to his sides when you and Deran came around the corner into view, both pausing when you noticed who exactly had made the large thump.
You gasped loudly before continuing to rush toward him. Only sobs spilled from your mouth while you kneeled in front of him, hands gently coming to rest on his naked shoulders. You tucked your face into the crook of his neck, and your left hand quickly buried itself into the curls at his nape.
Andrew, almost frozen in disbelief, shakily placed his hands on the small of your back.
“You-you’re awake,” you stuttered, pulling your face back to look him in his hazel eyes. “You woke up.” You softly swiped you thumbs across the skin under his slowly blinking eyes. “You came back.”
Andrew closed his eyes fully. “You told me to wait.”
Wanting to be closer, you leaned forward until your forehead touched his, your eyes also fluttering shut as the two of you held each other. It wasn’t until Deran shifted that you parted. Andrew’s eyes opened and looked over your shoulder at his brother, and his eyebrows pinched when he wondered what was wrong with the picture.
“Craig?” he asked, tone all gravely with an ever too present underlying pain.
Deran shut his eyes and shook his head, silently telling Andrew everything he needed to know.
He all but crumbled back into your arms, thick hands finding a strong hold on your sides as he finally allowed himself to grieve; grieve for the life he had, for the life he lost, for Craig, for J’s betrayal, for Cath, for Julia.
But the tears also healed.
They signified that he was alive, breathing, and in your arms.
His sobs sputtered to a slow stop until he quieted. You stayed still through it all, wanting Andrew to be done only when he was ready. Your hands continued to pet and run through his blood-matted curls while he stayed buried in your front. Your lips gently placed intermittent kisses against his temple, and Andrew lightly hummed at the feeling.
He didn’t know where the two of you were supposed to go from there. You and he would have to flee California while he knew Deran would want to stay, lie low, and find Adrian at some point. Andrew knew that time was ticking down, that it was only a matter of time before the cops started looking for him and Deran. But all he could care about in that moment was the rise and fall of your chest under his ear and the feeling of having his arms wrapped around your middle.
_______________________
For one split second four years ago, you didn’t think the life you always wanted was possible.
But as you stood in front of the small, farmhouse that seemed to glow against the sunset, you took a large inhale of air. Well, as much air as you could with two developing babies currently pressing upward against your lungs and all your other important organs. Your stomach stretched far, and you ran a hand down the swelled bump.
A squeal from the front yard had caught your attention, which was how you found yourself standing on the wrap-around porch, baby bump held between your hands. Your cheeks warmed with a smile as you watched Andrew carry your almost 4-year-old daughter through the tall grass where the lightning bugs were just starting to twinkle.
Your shoulder rested against one of the pillars, and the cool breeze of April settled against your cheeks in soft and fleeting puffs that carried the smell of approaching spring and rainwater. You knew that if you walked down the steps and into the grass, the ground would squish softly between your toes.
“Mama!” Julie yelled from where Andrew was currently holding her out like she was flying. “Do you see! Do you see da glow bugs!”
“I see!” you called out in response, not even trying to fight the smile that pretty much never failed to stretch your face since you found this small part of paradise.
“Daddy! Put down! I wanna see Mama!” she squealed right into Andrew’s ear.
You watched as Andrew contemplated setting her down before he flipped her face up and pretending to bite at her tummy, the sound of his playful growl mixing so wonderfully with the sound of Julie’s giggles. He took large steps in your direction, deciding to just carry his daughter instead of having her walk through the soft and slightly muddy yard; his nicely cleaned and polished floors would thank him later.
The sound of her pitter patters up the steps caused your heart to flutter; it was a noise you’d never get over hearing.
“Be careful,” Andrew warned when he noticed Julie coming at you with a bit more speed than your poor knees could probably handle. “Remember to be gentle with Mama.”
Julie all but screeched to a halt before continuing on at a much slower speed. Her small arms wrapped around your left leg, and your left hand trailed through the mop of auburn curls. She was, in all aspect of her tiny life, Andrew’s twin. And you were more than fine with it, even if you’d grown her for nine months just for her to come out with a frown that matched her daddy’s to a tee.
“Go wash your hands; dinner’s almost ready,” you said, giving her one last pat on the head.
She squeezed your leg one last time before dashing into the house, squealing her entire way in. You couldn’t help chuckle at the noise.
It hadn’t taken long for Julie to be on her way after you and Andrew found this small piece of land. The house had needed fixing, but it was something you could envision your family growing in. And just five weeks into renovations, you’d shown him three tests with double lines so dark they almost looked black. Andrew had cried openly after dropping to his knees in order to rest his forehead against your then flat stomach. For the next nine months, he panicked, prepared, cried some more, and panicked again. But the moment Julie was placed in his arms, you knew exactly then that Andrew Cody was meant to be a father.
His hand sliding across your belly brought you out of your reverie. “They being good?” he asked, leaning down to press a kiss to your bump before straightening to kiss you.
He was answered by a few kicks to his palm that sent flutters thought your body.
“They want out,” you muttered against his lips before pressing back into him. “Can’t believe you called it. First Julie, now A and B. You think you’re gonna be correct with the last?”
Andrew pulled back and smirked. “Definitely. Like I said, sweetheart, all girls.”
Your eyes gently raked across his face, taking in each and every freckle that dotted his face like constellations you could see on a clear summer’s night. You caressed his cheek with your fingers, and his eyes fluttered as he leaned into your hand.
“Thank you,” you whispered. “For staying.”
“Thank you,” he echoed. “For never giving up.”
The two of you stood there, enjoying each other’s company, until Julie called for you deep in the house.
“Duty calls,” Andrew muttered, curling an arm around your waist.
“Yes,” you mused. “Yes, she does.”
The rest of the evening went in warm touches and moments you never wanted to end. And like many nights before, you went to bed surrounded by your small family with a large smile each time Andrew tugged you in a bit tighter in his sleep, knowing that everything would continue to be exactly as it should be.
alright, i'll be the one to say it. ao3 and tumblr becoming "mainstream" did so much damage to the community and the writers. i have seen loads of videos and posts about:
1. people hating on writers and fics. writing is something we do for free and for fun. if you stumble upon a fanfic that isn't necessarily your cup of tea or you just don't like, scroll. dont read it. literally leave their page. you don't know if this could be the author's first work that they're so excited about, you dont know if the language they're writing in isn't their first language, you dont know that the writer could be a literal teen and loads of other reasons. fanfictions don't HAVE to be perfect. you write what you want to write because we do it for fun and enjoyment and we want to share that to the world. seriously, what is the wrong with that?..
2. x reader consumers getting WAY too entitled. the number of tiktoks i've seen that say "i run a strict program when it comes to reading fanfics." girl you aint running shit. this is FAN FICTION you're reading. F A N F I C T I O N. there is no denying that most fanfiction writes are beyond talented but just because you read one fanfic that exceeds your expectations doesn't give you the right to talk down on others that don't. people have their own personal writing style, their way of doing things and you talking shit on that isn't right.
at the end of the day, we are all humans, reading and writing is what we do and what we're meant to do. and for you to talk shit about a person WRITING is so insane. we are humans. not some robots that you can tell what to do so you can consume it.
i've seen so so many authors take down their fanfics and losing all motivation to write because of a hate comment. DONT LIKE DONT READ‼️
and to every author reading this, this community values your work and your contribution. we love u and, please, never let anyone's negative words have an effect on you.
hiii - I just want to tell you much of an impact your story, “I’M AN ASTRONAUT, YOU’RE THE MOON”, had on me. it such a beautiful piece of writing and I can’t get enough of it. thank you for the inclusion (filipina over here💛) and thank you for writing grief so beautifully heartbreaking and real. i loved every word of the story. thank you for sharing your beautiful work with us🥹
omg OMG HI WAIT STOP I'M SUCH A HUGE FAN OF YOURS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH 😭😭😭 Jamie, youuuuuuu are so talented and incredible. Like, genuinely, I love your work and your ability to convey such emotions in your fics!
As a fellow Filipina myself... I just wanted more of us out here taking space in the x reader area, y'know? As for the grief aspect... I felt like loss is something that is shared amongst all of us. Whether that be a metaphorical loss of self or a person you love, I wanted every piece of conversation between you and Jack to be honest and raw, because it takes a lot of bravery to be vulnerable. I'm really glad you enjoyed this fic to the point you felt safe enough to sit with your emotions for a bit. That's genuinely all I could ever hope for as a writer.
ILY SO VERY MUCH AND I SEND YOU LOTS OF HUGS. AND EVERYONE GO READ THEIR WORKS :D
Would you ever write a story solely based off on Park the Shark?👀
HI THERE!!!
I might...? I have the resources to write for him tbh... (My Tito/Uncle, is an Orthopedic Surgeon lol, I have heard a bunch of horror stories and cases from him, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) Tbh, it depends on whether I can find a plot/story that fits well with the themes and stuff I know. Thanks for the ask, my dear!!! :D
Honeybee is so Ducky and Robby coded and I can't decide if its more Robby or Ducky centric but listening to it with them in mind makes me shed a tear 😭
NO CAUSE I SEE/HEAR IT TOOOOOOOOOOO!
I've had Olivia's album on repeat since release... I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS RN. "stupid song" and "honeybee" are def Ducky x Robby coded. And then for Firefly, her songs are "what's wrong with me" and "expectations"
Hi!!!!!! I am such an avid reader of your fics but ducky holds a special spot in cold dead heart but I was wondering if ducky would tell robby to completely give up his motorcycle???
HI THERE!
Short answer: yes. >:D
Long answer: He already sold it. (I'll explain this in the next chapter heh :D)
I have started reading your robby series the other day and I'm on s2; it's so so so good!!
respectfully i'm going to have to ask you to stop writing tho bc i cannot deal the emotional devastation your writing develops in these characters (does that even make sense) also started reading the jack series #LOVE
LMAO HIIIIIII :D
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! I appreciate this loads holy shit- I CAN'T HELP MYSELF... I think it might be the PTSD and Depression I have... I must place them all in my silly little fics lololol.
I SEND YOU HUGS AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
First off just wanted to say love your writing For all for something is phenomenal I’ve reread it multiple times and suggested to some people and they absolutely loved it and was wondering when the next chapter is gonna be released there’s absolutely no rush at all it’s my favorite series on tumblr to read on my lunch breaks from work again no rush at all Hope your having a good day/week
Hiya anon!!
Thank you so much! Sorry for the delay in updates. I'm doing my internship rn and being a corporate slave :( Genuinely, all the work shit kills my creativity, help me-
Anyways, I had to revise some parts of the next chapter, but it's 1.4k words in right now. Hopefully, I get some free time after work next week to write in peace.
usually, I keep long stories as little reading snacks that I read little by little. I COULDN’T STOP READING YOUR LAST STORY!! it’s so gooooddddd. here’s a gold star for you: ⭐️
AWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!
FUN FACT (THAT NO ONE ASKED FOR): I LOVE STARS.
THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON!!! YIPPEEE! I'm so happy you enjoyed my little (long ass) one-shot of Jack, tehe! I send you hugs and love, my dear!!!
Hi grace I'm so obsessed with ducky and robby, so hear me out like can we have like an angry/makeup sex for them, Like the fluff and romance is amazing but like can we please see some more smut??? I just feel like these two have a lot of tension prior to them being official and I think both of them will be so cute and just be laughing in their post sex glow.
Hi anon!
ERMMMM- how do I put this... The reason I didn't lean into the angry/make-up sex was that... lol anti-depressants lower your libido. Well, specifically Ducky's... :p Also, Robby was too stressed and freaked out, and Ducky's anger usually melts into sadness. They are two depressed adults needing comfort more than anything rn.
HOWEVER, I am taking the note, and maybe down the line I'll write this in a chapter. Thanks, anon!!! <3
