bad decisions

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND, USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI OR USE AI TO TRANSLATE MY WORK. FUCK AI.

You don’t bother knocking, it’s always more satisfying this way.

You can hear the strangled moan get caught in his throat, the way his muscles tense as you step into the room, suddenly alert and ready to kill whoever just dared to interrupt him. But instead, his eyes land on you and his facade drops even lower, to one of shame, like a little boy being caught doing he isn’t supposed to.

“Kindly let Miranda get off her knees and go back to her desk, her lunch break is almost over and I would really like to take mine at my agreed upon time.”

Your voice is as unkind as you can possibly make it. Not towards Miranda, never towards her. It’s all venom thrown at him. He knows you don’t like it when he does this, knows it takes her those exact fifteen minutes to make herself presentable and rush all the way to the other side of the floor to where her desk is, knows, deep down, that she’s not the one he craves to have sucking him off at 12:15 pm on a random Tuesday.

You count the seconds in your head as your stare off extends itself. It’s never lasted more than 28 seconds.

It’s exactly fifteen seconds later that he relents.

He always relents.

He doesn’t even break eye contact as he, presumably, pulls her off him finally.

You’d had to learn really early on that he likes to be watched, gets off on it and you would not be surprised if his staring is directly linked to how long it takes him to cum once you’ve entered his office. 

You’ve never been able to prove it, however, for he doesn’t show it on his face.

He’s always calm and composed, unbreakable.

You fucking hate it.

You wait, impatiently, as Miranda makes herself presentable enough to do her walk of shame back to your side of the floor, to Ursula’s side.

Titus slowly rolls his chair back, the imposing mahogany desk the perfect size to hide a full bodied person underneath it, the leather chair just adding to the old money aesthetic of it all.

The model looking second assistant finally gets up on shaky legs, gaze cast directly towards the carpeted floors as she scurries out of the room, not daring to even cast a glance in your direction.

You simply step aside, letting her flee, knowing fully well you both know this will be her last day working with you. Such a shame, she wasn’t completely useless, not like the girl you had the misfortune of working with two assistants ago.

You shiver at the memory as Titus fixes up his slacks, his unforgiving hazel eyes still on you.

“So,” he begins. “Lunch?”

You roll your eyes, stepping into the room as he sprays cologne all over him. To mask the scent of sex on him or within the room, you don’t know, but you’re soon enveloped in a smokey, honeyed scent that instantly has you just a little more pliant than you were mere seconds ago.

You sit across from him, as is routine now, and the door to the service elevators swings open to Anthony, his private work chef, walking into the office with your usual chicken Caesar salad and his borderline still alive, rare stake. Diet cokes for you both, a rare indulgence that you share.

You don’t say anything as his desk is set up to resemble a dining table. You don’t spare “the help” any kindness, not since the first time you dared utter a thank you in his direction and he came back with a purpled eye the next day.

No, Titus is absurdly particular when it comes to who you address and how you do it. He’s fully aware you don’t belong to him, that claim is his sister and his sister’s alone, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t hurt those that do work for him to reprimand you.

So you don’t even breathe in the young man’s direction, you simply wait, patient and kind, the clock on the wall ticking quicker than it ever has before.

Titus knows you’re cutting it close, knows he shouldn’t be pushing his luck, but that doesn’t matter. You’ll be on time, he’ll make sure of it even if he has to shut down the elevator when Ursula’s one o’clock shows.

He doesn’t bother you with small talk. He doesn’t have to, you both know he knows exactly what you got up to over the weekend.

You know what kind of man Titus Danforth is, know his quirks and…questionable desires, know just how tight of a leash he likes to keep his playthings on. 

And that’s exactly what you are.

Not in the "traditional" sense, Ursula would have your head for it.

But you are…entertainment.

He has your location.

He has cameras in your apartment.

He has vetted every single one of your friends and even…taken care of those he didn’t approve of.

He’s met your parents. Met every single romantic interest you’ve had in the two years you’ve been working for his sister, always disapproving.

Titus Danforth takes up the other half of your life unapologetically.

It’s in your contract, actually, but he doesn’t need to know that.

He’s never once asked why you don’t push back against him, why you let him get away with so much. In his eyes, he’s entitled to it, much like every spoiled child is entitled to their every whim.

He’s gotten into a new habit as of recently, however.

It had started whenever you left the office late. A text message lighting up your phone when you made it home safely and didn’t let him know right away. If it were up to him, he’d be sending a car to pick you up and drop you off every day, but alas even he could not force you to accept the offer.

So instead he settled for you telling him you’d gotten home.

But then…he started messaging you all the time.

If he saw you struggling to find your lipstick because you’d forgotten where you’d put it

It’s on the coffee table.

If he saw you walking out for your morning jog without a proper jacket.

It’s flu season, do not make me send a carrier over.

If you put on a lingerie set he didn’t necessarily love while getting ready for work.

Wear the white one I got you last week.

And the worst part?

You do exactly what he tells you.

Every.

Single.

Time.

Without question. Without fuss.

It makes Titus’s blood buzz with excitement each and every time.

He knows he can’t have you.

But he can have this.

“I won’t be going straight home after work tonight.”

You tell him suddenly, breaking the gentle hum of a spell that has fallen over your meal.

His brow furrows slightly, leaning forward in his chair, as if assessing a request for time off from an employee.

“Where will you be?”

You’ve done this dance with him before. There’s even a pre-approved list of people and places you’re allowed to go and be with, which is why you know he won’t be too happy with what you’re about to say to him.

“I have a date.”

If you didn’t know him as well as you do, the intensity of his stare would’ve definitely made you pee your pants. It almost had the first time he looked at you this way, like a child being scolded for setting fire to the family home.

“No you don’t.” He hisses, looking down at his calendar and finding the day’s square absolutely empty.

You shrug, trying to keep your cool as much as you possibly can. 

“Spur of the moment.” 

You keep eating as if you’ve done nothing wrong but you know the man before you is seething.

When you finally swallow, “He texted me a few hours ago. I said yes.”

The scowl on Titus’s face is piercing as he holds out his hand expectantly and you swiftly move to hand over your phone.

He doesn’t even have to ask for your password anymore. It’s his birthday, he’d chosen it.

You watch, a little masochistic, as he goes through your recent texts. You don’t save their names, there’s no need to give him more information, he’ll know everything about him from the number alone five minutes after you leave the room.

“No,” he says simply, setting your phone down next to his.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission,” you reply, soft yet firm. “Ursula already gave it.”

The mention of his sister having agreed to this is what pushes him over the edge. He stands up abruptly, causing the desk between you to almost tip over your drinks.

You don’t flinch, you’ve honestly lost the ability to when it comes to Titus. You simply stare up at him, devoid of any care or emotion, almost daring him to go against his sister’s wishes.

He doesn’t give you his consent. You don’t back down.

The clock ticks in the background, ominous, haunting.

There’s a knock at the door.

You both know who it is without having to turn, still stuck in that exhausting staring contest.

“We’re starting in five,” Miranda’s voice is meek now, almost a whisper. You cringe at just how much her confidence has plummeted in the past half hour. “Ursula asked me to get you.”

You set your empty plate back on Titus’s desk, wiping the corners of your mouth demurely before you stand back up, smoothing your pencil skirt against your plump thighs and picking up your phone from where he left it.

“I’ll be home around nine,” you tell him, matter of fact.

“I’ll know if you’re not,” he says through gritted teeth. “And there will be consequences.”

You nod, once, curtly, turning towards a practically tomato red Miranda and walking past her as if nothing has transpired.

“Um…sir?” Miranda tries, she desperately tries to be normal about what transpired earlier but fails miserably.

He casts her a glance, stone cold and intimidating, the one that used to have an effect on you but now doesn’t even chip away at your icy exterior. She practically leaps in fear, closing the door swiftly and running after you.

At least he still has an effect on someone.

You’re back home at exactly 8:59 pm.

Titus watches as your body sways lightly, your legs shaky beneath you. You didn't change after you left, still in that sinful skirt. Your hair is a little rustled, your lipstick just barely smudged, your shirt open just one more button than normal.

That's when he spots it, a tear in your sheer black tights, a gaping hole near the inside of your thigh, intentionally made.

It makes his blood boil.

He picks up his phone, calls you. He leans in, pupils dilating as he watches you search your bag, cursing pathetically as you fail to locate your phone.

You're too drunk for this and he has half a mind to make his way over to your apartment to reprimand you for it. How could you have let yourself go this way? Don't you know what men are dangerous, especially in the presence of a beautiful thing such as yourself?

After a few more seconds of futile searching, you give up, tossing your bag to the floor like a fussy child and letting the phone continue to ring into the night as you clumsily make your way to your room.

Titus switches the camera, following you along until you flop onto your bed and seemingly pass out.

He's seething now, morning cannot come fast enough, your punishment hot and delicious on his tongue.

He find himself waiting, impatiently, by your desk for ten minutes after you're supposed to be in. Last he checked, you were getting on a car and driving towards the office but that was twenty minutes ago. Even accounting for traffic at this hour, you should've been here by now.

He has half a mind to call, to scream, to let you know what's waiting for you, but he doesn't. No, his victory will taste sweeter is he can just wait—

"Mr. Danforth?"

A male voice snaps him back to the present. His thunderous gaze meets that of a lanky man in a suit holding out an iPad. Weird, he's never seen this man before in his life.

"Are you waiting on something?" he asks Titus, checking the device in his hands for something to explain the younger Danforth's lingering near his sister's office. "Your sister just departed for Barcelona but if you're having trouble getting a hold of her I can—"

"What?" he hisses.

To his credit, the man keeps his composure, but that doesn't stop Titus from catching the slight flash of panic that crosses his face.

"For the conference?"

Titus doesn't think, he just leaps, grabbing the pad forcefully as he looks through the shared calendar on it, one that he doesn't have access to, one that you've hidden from him.

Barcelona. Resort conference. Five days.

Five fucking days.

You have got to be kidding.

You don't answer a single one of his messages.

Your work email is in constant do not disturb mode.

Out of office.

Yeah, now he fucking knows.

Instead he's been forced to endure the ungodly display of affection your mystery man—Jackson Cooper Jr, heir to the Cooper Media empire—is determined to show, practically turning his office into a fucking flower shop.

Every morning when you're supposed to be getting into work and every night when you're supposed to be leaving, in comes a courier with the largest floral arrangement that he's ever seen.

He catches them walking in from the elevator, almost always making a bee line for his office, to his assistant, before they're redirected to the other side of the floor.

It's absurd, it's ridiculous, it's—

Why the fuck does he care so much?

It's not like he wishes he were Jackson Cooper. Why would he ever want to spend thousands of dollars in flowers?

What a pathetic sight indeed.

And yet...Titus can't help but linger in the obnoxious display of affection. Can't help the way his blood boils every time he thinks about what your reaction will be when you come back to this.

He selfishly hopes, deep down, that you'll find it weird and borderline psychotic, but he knows in his heart that you will be elated. And Titus hates that you'll have such a visceral reaction to another man's affection that isn't his.

So much so that he plans on not being at the office when you do return.

But because everything is about him and the universe is set on torturing him, you're back a day early.

He can hear your angelic voice echo through the empty floor, your excitement and glee, the little shy giggle that escapes you because you think no one is there to hear it.

"...no, I'm sorry. Work just got the better of me," you sigh into your phone. "I do love them, wish I could take them all back to my apartment—no! No, you don't have to, you've already—fine, thank you."

Titus has never seen you give into an argument so easily. Whatever jealousy he's been harboring triples at the mere thought that someone other than him has made you submit with such ease.

He steps further into the room, a selfish thought crossing through him as he weighs his options.

He should take you now, throw your phone in a ditch, carry you by force back to his apartment and keep you hidden there until you're just as addicted to him as he is you.

"It's really no trouble, beautiful."

Titus's blood runs hot with anger as he hears his voice creeping up from the elevators up towards where he's hiding.

Jackson Cooper, in the flesh.

Titus instantly steps into the shadows, a hunter making sure his prey falls into a false sense of security, yes, definitely that.

"Are you still at the office?"

Titus can't hear you answering, far enough away now that your voice is no longer the main course. He can only imagine what's going on now as you squeal loudly, excited and joyful. Can only imagine the type of kiss you're engaged in as the silence goes on for more than a few seconds.

He can only imagine where you're going as the two of you walk out of the office, hand in hand, sporting similar sheepish expressions on your faces.

Titus watches you go, let's you get away, because now he's got only one thing on his mind—

Jackson Cooper is a dead man.

The muffled screams of agony tickle every nerve in Titus's body.

He's never felt this fulfilled in his life, no drink or drug could ever make him feel as high as he's feeling right now.

The blood has soaked through the carpet, definitely; the rope has chafed through the woof of his antique chair.

The curtains are drawn, the office settled into a sensual warm hue of secrecy and comfort.

Jackson Cooper had come to pick you up for lunch and suddenly, all the planning and stalking and fantasy had gone out the window.

He doesn't even bother explaining, he simply put him in a headlock, incapacitating him as Ursula's new second assistant, as he's come to accept, watches in horror.

A shame, really, he was the first one that he hadn't gotten to have his way with before he got fired. Oh well.

He revels in the fear, the thick and heavy fog that has settled into his office, the pungent smell of iron and definitely other bodily functions. All normal, nothing to be ashamed of when you're being tortured.

And yet Titus soaks it all in, doesn't dare make his prey feel any kind of comfort.

Only the inevitability of death. Slow and painful.

"Titus?" the door to his office opens then, the freshness of your perfume blending into the pungent darkness from within his office. "Have you seen—oh."

Titus stiffens, his hunting knife suddenly feeling heavy in his hand, the leather handle uncomfortable for the first time in his life. He watches as your face falls, dread overtaking him without reason.

But then you don't devolve into hysterics, don't start screaming, instead, your face contorts into one of annoyance?

Your head falls back, a groan escaping your lips as you step into the room, closing the door swiftly behind you.

Titus watches you in awe, mouth barely hanging open as Jackson Cooper begins to scream against his gag and thrash against his restraints.

You turn to him and scowl, such an evil sight directed at such a pathetic man. Titus beams.

"Shhh," you tell him, holding out your hand to stop his squirming as you take out your phone and dial.

On his desk, Jackson's phone begins to ring, loudly.

No one mores, confusion causing the delirious man to settle into silence.

And then, his voice mail message fills the room.

You wait, impatiently now, as it ends.

The beep blares, definitive. You open your mouth—

A sob escapes, fake and pandering, your expression remaining as unbothered as ever.

"Um...okay, I see how it is. It's okay, I just...I didn't think—get it together, fuck. I'm not used to being ghosted sorry. I'm..." you swallow, catching Titus's gaze from across the room, entranced and practically salivating. You shoot him a sly smile. "I guess I'm gonna go have lunch with Titus then—you know, you could've just told me you didn't want to see me again, it's...it doesn't matter now."

With that you end the call.

The room settles back into a heavy silence, the only sound being Titus's obnoxious grin and Jackson's distressed panting as they both realize what you've just done—

An alibi.

"Little dove—" Titus starts but you stop him immediately.

"Don't even start," you've never been this short with him. "I'll deal with you in a second."

To pretend like his pants don't tighten, a thrill of excitement shooting down to settle in his stomach, causing his already painful erection to twitch against the fabric.

You dial again. It rings once before the call connects.

"Mistress," you speak again, completely dry and composed, the voice Titus knows you have reserved for his sister. "There's been a change of plans."

Titus doesn’t hear whatever his sister says in return, the impatience ringing in his ears. Even now, even when he’s got a man strapped to a chair, bleeding to death, you’re still not giving him your undivided attention.

You nod along to whatever is being said. "Yes, he...got ahead of schedule..."

You wince, it’s subtle, minuscule, but Titus catches it.

“Do I have to?” You shiver. “Yes, ma’am.”

You reach out swiftly, like pulling off a bandaid. Barely shaking hand pulls open the table side drawer of the piece of furniture next to his couch.

His eyebrows raise in silent knowledge as he watches you pull out his gun, a sleek, silver 9mm, point it and shoot all within a single breath.

Jackson Cooper never even had a chance to battle with the knowledge of death, not when the bullet had already gone through his skull and dented the bulletproof glass behind him, all before the sound had ene processed through the room.

Blood splatters over whatever whiteness remained of Titus’s button down, the hot speckles of crimson tantalizing against his skin.

It’s only when the body tips the chair backwards and the stain spreads that you end the call, tossing both your phone and the gun onto the couch beside you.

Titus licks his lips then, savoring the taste of your first kill as his gaze glosses over with a carnal need to devour you.

He doesn’t wait for the shock to wear off, for you to start screaming at him for his impulsiveness.

No, he won’t waste another second.

He pounces, crossing the room swiftly and enveloping you in his arms. His lips are on yours, the remnants of iron and a taste so uniquely his invading your taste so easily you can't help but lean into it.

You whine into his mouth, opening your lips in search for more. He obliges instantly, tongues and teeth clashing against each other aggressively.

You bite down hard on his lower lip, drawing enough blood to startle him. Titus whines into your mouth, his eyes shooting open like a kicked puppy.

And then you do...kick him.

He falls to his knees, pathetic and broken, eyes practically fully dark as he watches you pant above him.

"You—you fucking asshole," you practically spit. "You couldn't have waited a few more weeks before you decided to kill him?"

Whatever confusion that lingered burned up into blinding anger.

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"

You scoff, running a hand through your hair, throwing it back over the crown of your head.

"I just needed him alive for a few more days."

Now it's Titus's turn to scowl, deeply offended. "How dare you!?"

He goes to stand, bending his knee to get up but you stop him by stepping forward, your crotch dangerously close to his mouth now.

"Don't."

Oh.

Oh.

A terrifying smirk curves Titus's kiss-swollen lips.

He catches the slight quiver of your mouth, the way your breath catches in your throat, the way your legs shake ever so slightly.

He's dizzy with excitement, his ego growing the size of his bank balance.

"Oh little dove," he coos, condescending and pitying, his large, warm hands grabbing at your ankles and slowly making their way up your legs.

He watches as your body tenses, as you clench around nothing. He hums contently, grabbing at the hem of your skirt and slowly rolling it up your thighs neatly.

Your hands shoot down to settle on his shoulders, steadying yourself as you swallow back a needy sigh.

In response, Titus leans forward, placing a kiss over your clothed mound.

"Ursula must be so...disappointed in you, huh?" he leans back enough to finish rolling your skirt, his hands now sliding to cup your ass. "Don't worry, you'll always have a job with me when she inevitably fires you."

That little entitled piece of shit.

His words light a fire throughout your body.

Defiance.

He's not the only one that can play dirty.

You step forward slightly, kicking his bent knee with your stiletto and sending him off balance back down on his knees. Before he can even process what you're doing, you press the sole of your shoe against his crotch.

He whimpers deliciously at the contact, shifting you closer to him, his fingertips digging into your soft flesh.

"Shut the fuck up, Titus," you sigh. "I'm never gonna work for you," you're heaving, panting, so strung up you just—"Now make yourself useful and make me cum."

And for the first time in his life, Titus doesn't get offended by the command. He simply does.

His hands rip through the sheer fabric of your tights, carving a hole bigger than the one he'd noticed a week ago.

You moan at the sheer roughness, his possessiveness always having been something that never made you uncomfortable but rather—

"I can smell how wet you are, little dove," he leans into your damp underwear, inhaling deeply. "My sweet girl, so turned on by all this carnage."

He chuckles, the vibrations making your head fuzzy already.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

And unlike Jackson Cooper, he doesn't torture you further. One hand pulls your legs apart, shifting himself so that he can settle comfortably between your legs and hump your shoe while he pulls your underwear to the side and bury his face in between your glistening folds.

The sinful noises that explode from you suddenly make everything worth it, your taste a sweet wine against his tongue. He doesn't take his time, no, he goes straight for the kill, mouth latching onto your clit, tongue lapping aggressively.

You buck your hips against his face, not worried that you'll suffocate him, he's got a deal with the devil anyway, he'll be fine.

Titus chuckles against you, reveling in the way your slick drips onto his chin and travels down his neck. Just when you clench around nothing again, he lets you go, a heaving cry leaving your lips then.

Before you can complain, he's trailing his tongue up and down your slit, finally relenting to lazy discovery and appreciation.

"Titus—" you mewl. "Please."

His cock twitches against your stiletto then, his hips bucking into you needfully. Your hands tangle into his hair, scratching at his scalp in response, a treat to show him just how good he's making you feel.

"That's it..." you whisper. "Right there, please, I need—"

He knows exactly what you need. He doesn't even have to ask.

He lets go of your soaked underwear, no longer needing to keep it out of the way himself. He swiftly licks two fingers sloppily before he thrusts them inside of you, your warmth swallowing him whole with no resistance.

He groans against your heat, gasping for air as he looks up at you through his lashes. He's so far gone, so beautiful like this, actually doing something worthy of his time.

You reward him by rubbing his raging erection in tune with the movements of his fingers, slow, steady, sharp.

Your chest heaves, air difficult to process as he speeds up, hooking his fingers against that little spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

You clench around his fingers, the fit now incredibly tight, only spurring him forward.

Your foot stops its movements, mind more concerned with the pleasure building within you to bother to keep up with his.

It doesn't matter though, as Titus takes it upon himself to keep up for the both of you.

"Don't you dare cum before I do."

Your voice isn't your own anymore, it's feral and broken, demanding yet desperate. Titus nods his head, lips returning to your clit to speed up the process.

The room explodes into a symphony of moans and screams, the absolute debauchery of your wetness spraying out between his fingers as you come undone, your legs snapping shut over his head.

He drinks it all up, every shiver, every breath, every sharp tug of his hair.

He's gotten a taste now and it's even better than he could've ever dreamed of.

His fingers slow down, working you though your orgasm as he detaches from your clit, his expression of pure adoration and satisfaction one that will definitely remain etched into your memory forever because...

Titus Danforth does not beg.

And yet...his eyebrows quirk in question, silent and heavy, directed towards you.

You nod feverishly, your entire body still buzzing as you watch him use your leg to get himself off.

To say the sight is unholy would be an understatement, even for a devotee of the devil himself. He doesn't dare break eye contact, doesn't dare pretend like he's not cumming desperately in his pants, doesn't hide his own pleasure from you.

You're so overcome with emotion your vision blurs with tears, your hands soothingly raking over his scalp and down his neck as he holds you so tight against him that you're unsure exactly what just actually happened.

You remain stuck like that for a while, your own fluids reminding you that you're alive, a stark contrast to the death that permeates the other side of the room.

The spell is broken when your phone rings, a shrill that sends a shiver down your spine as Titus begrudgingly allows you to detach yourself from him so you can reach over for the offending device.

You answer, nodding along hazily to whoever is on the other side of the call.

"Yes, I'll be there in twenty," you blink away the fantasy of it all, the coldness of reality weighing heavy. "Please call Pernilla and bring myself and Mr. Danforth a change of clothes. Thank you."

a/n: this will most definitely turn into a series. he's just so damn bad and there's so many more places they can come into contact muejejejeje. if you've got any thoughts or requests hit me up!!

you were sitting by the poolside while lena was testing to see how far she could make it across the pool in one breath. you applauded as she made it at least halfway across, her little legs kicking her through the water with all their might. her smile is triumphant as she beams up at you.

"i got so far!"

she exclaims as she swims over to the edge of the pool by you, her arms resting on the warm pavement.

"you sure did! keep on practicing and you'll make it all the way across in no time at all."

you speak encouragingly, watching her eyes light up with hope. a throat is cleared behind you, causing both you and lena to look over in the direction of the gate. you both spot a stern-looking pope, but his face seems to soften as soon as his eyes land on lena in the pool. it wasn't easy for him, taking lena under his wing after what happened to her parents. he sees the smile on the little girl's face, then glances at you, then back at her, and he feels something shift within him.

"she'll be out in the ocean learning how to surf like you guys soon."

you smile softly as you talk to him, which causes an unfamiliar sense of warmth to settle in his chest. he nods at you before walking over to lena, he crouches down as he meets her gaze.

"ten more minutes, then shower before dinner's ready."

his voice was rough, but it had an uncharacteristic softness to it as he spoke to lena. she nodded, her big eyes staring at him like he hung the stars in the sky. it made your heart swell, seeing how the two of them bonded so well, especially given all the shit they'd been through. pope cody wasn't comforting to anyone except for lena, at least that's what you'd thought at first. as lena swims away and busies herself, pope stands to his full height and turns around to look at you.

"what are you doing here?"

he hadn't meant for the question to sound so harsh and bothered. he saw the way your face scrunched a bit at his tone and immediately regretted his choice of words.

"i'm watching over lena while you take care of your personal things."

"i didn't ask you to do that."

"deran said you could use the extra help."

he stands there for a moment, blinking at you. he hadn't realized that it wasn't realistic for deran and craig to watch lena when pope couldn't, especially since they were often away from home more than he was. he nods slowly, now that everything was starting to make sense once again. he glances over his shoulder at lena, who's now wearing a particularly suspicious grin as she watches the two of you interact. he turns back to you, eyes briefly drifting toward your light green tank top. he could just barely see inside your shirt, the shadow almost highlighting your cleavage. he snaps himself out of the trance and meets your gaze again.

"how much do you want for it?"

you shrug at his question, glancing over at lena who has started cleaning up her pool toys. you clearly hadn't thought about it yet, not really worried about the money as much as you were about lena.

"i don't need to be paid, i have a job. i'm just here to watch lena when you aren't able to."

he looks slightly taken aback by your answer. why were you so willing to help them out without being paid? he searches your expression for any sort of hint otherwise, but he finds nothing.

"i mean- being fed would be nice."

a slight scoff escapes his lips at your words. he just nods and makes his way back inside. a couple minutes later, lena goes inside to wash up before dinner. you make your way inside, your nostrils immediately filled with the smell of something delicious. you watch as pope busies himself in the kitchen, making what looked to be lasagna.

"looks good..."

you try to talk casually, but are met with a deadpan look.

"haven't cooked any of it yet."

his tone was flat, almost questioning as he looked at you. you let out a heavy sigh and made your way toward the living room to rest on the couch. pope mentally slaps himself for being so cut and dry with you. he'd never admit it out loud, but he wanted you to be around. he wanted to know more about you. he'd seen you here and there whenever you were helping deran with something or attending one of his pool parties. he'd always thought you were pretty, probably too young for him, but that never stopped his mind from wandering.

he continues to work on making dinner, his mind lost in a sea of thoughts that all revolved around you. especially how happy lena had looked while being with you. it almost mirrored the way she looked when she was with pope. he wondered what it would be like, if maybe you and him could be her new and improved parents. no... you were basically a stranger to him he can't be thinking of starting a family like this. lena's soft voice jars him out of his mind.

"can i have a soda with dinner?"

"yeah, but that's your only one for the day."

she nods, a giddy smile on her face as she bounces off toward the living room, presumably to join you. she plops down next to you on the couch, resting her head on your arm as she watches the cartoon you're playing on the TV. she glances up at you, a toothy grin spreading across her face. you look down at her, a bit wary at what this could mean.

"what's that look for?"

you watch as she tries to hold back the giggles.

"uncle pope thinks you're really pretty."

you can't help but roll your eyes and laugh at the little girl. part of you wondered if she was telling the truth. kids were always more perceptive than anyone liked to give them credit for.

"yeah? did he tell you that?"

you chuckle at her while her eyes are fixated on the cartoon.

"yeah... he told me one day on the way to school."

you pause at that. because now this was all starting to sound real. did he really think you were pretty? hell, you'd always been attracted to him too, but never in a million years did you think it would be a mutual feeling. before you have any more time to think about it, pope is calling you guys into the kitchen for dinner. you and lena set the dining room table while pope brings out the lasagna dish. lena sits between you and pope at the table, unable to help herself as she steals glances at both of you while eating.

"uncle pope, we talked about starting a garden today."

pope looks curiously at his niece, then up at you.

"what kind of garden?"

his eyebrows are furrowed like he's almost a bit hesitant to know the answer.

"i thought that maybe we could try a vegetable or fruit garden, make some of our own stuff. it's fun and could mean less money spent on groceries."

you chime in, watching as lena's eyes light up. she looks over at you with a bright smile.

"does that mean we can grow lemons?"

you blink, raising an eyebrow at her.

"that's what you want to grow first?"

"to make lemonade! if we have lemons we'll never run out of lemonade!"

this time, you and pope both chuckle at her exclamation.

"we'll have to buy the tree, otherwise it'll take forever to grow from the seed. that just means lemons will come first."

you smile at the little girl who happily bounces in her seat while finishing her dinner. you glance up at pope, who can't decide if he wants to see lena's excited expression, or your soft one as you think about how to start the garden.

"i mean- as long as it's okay with you."

you nod at him, forgetting that you guys likely needed his approval before creating a garden.

"just don't make me water it. and i'm not being blamed if anything in there dies or gets eaten by rabbits."

you smirk at him, knowing damn well that if lena asked he would help you out with the garden. or maybe, she'd use it as an attempt to get you and pope alone so everything can go according to her little master plan.

after about a week of planting and rearranging soil, lena's garden was finally starting to come together. you'd been around every day to help her with, teaching her the best watering techniques. you let her pick out what she wanted to grow, and then helped her organize based on what plants needed more sunlight. the whole time, pope busies himself with watching over the two of you. his rationalization is that gardening can be very dangerous, and he doesn't want either of you getting hurt. the real reason was because watching you with lena, the way you brought out the brightest in the little girl, it felt right to him. like you were meant to be here with the two of them, nowhere else.

lena notices him and waves him over to show him the final product. he steps out of the sliding glass door and makes his way over to the new garden.

"we did it, uncle pope! we have our own garden!"

lena jumps up and down excitedly, pointing at the freshly laid soil and some of the pre-grown trees you had helped her plant.

"you guys did great."

he nods slowly, looking over at you. your face was glistening with sweat after working in the heat for the past couple hours. he couldn't take his eyes off of you, you were glowing. then he saw your genuine smile as you watched lena get excited about the garden. he wanted to be another reason that you could smile like that. he watches from nearby as you help lena water for the first time. you were patient with her, letting her do most of it on her own and only helping when she asked. lena looks over at pope with the brightest smile he's seen from her in a long time. looks like they both really needed to keep you around.

once you were finished watering, pope ushered the two of you inside. he was getting worried that you were out in the sun for too long. earlier, he had definitely hounded the two of you about wearing enough sunscreen. he gives you both a glass of water, watching shamelessly as you lift the glass to your lips and take a few swallows of the cold liquid. it was like he was in a trance every time he watched you, unable to peel his eyes away, even if you were doing the most mundane things. lena's giggles bring him back to center, he glances over at her and sees the knowing look in her eyes.

"c'mon, stinker... let's go get washed up. i'll help you pick out your clothes."

she nods, hopping out of the stool and walking off toward her room with you. once you help her find her clothes, you walk back out to the kitchen, now alone with the man you found yourself growing increasingly fond of.

"you can use mine."

he spoke gruffly, watching as you rested against the countertop.

"use your what?"

you look up at him curiously.

"my shower... i'll get you a towel and stuff."

he walks off toward the bathroom and grabs you a towel and washcloth. you also see a pair of old gym shorts and a t-shirt folded neatly next to them. you smile and thank him as you step into the bathroom. he stands there for a moment, looking at you. you are also just standing there, and you're unsure if the room was filled with tension or awkwardness at this point.

"thank you..."

you tell him again, and he seems to get the hint. but right before he can step out of the bathroom, he turns to you.

"lena... really likes having you around."

"i like being around... with both of you."

you nod slowly, and you can see the small hint of surprise on his face at your words. it was true, you'd gotten used to being around both of them all the time. it felt like more of a routine than you'd ever had before, but best of all, it felt like home. he could see the way your expressioned softened completely, feeling his cheeks heat because of how much he enjoyed the sight. you finally look up at him, breath hitching slightly when you see the dazed, wanting look in his eyes. you step closer to him and he doesn't back away. but before he allows himself to give in, pope clears his throat.

"i'll make lunch while you get cleaned up."

he doesn't miss the flicker of disappointment in your eyes, but he ultimately leaves the room anyway. you sigh, stripping out of your clothes and stepping into a nice, cool shower. once you're finished you step out of the shower and slip into his clothes he left for you. they smelled like him, which made you feel a little hotter than you cared to admit. you look at yourself in the mirror, chuckling at the way his old clothes looked on you. it didn't really matter, you weren't sweaty and gross anymore. you walk back out toward the kitchen, smiling when you see lena eating on the couch.

"come back and sit with me, please!"

she calls out to you, you nod, and continue until you're in the kitchen. pope's back was to you, but when he heard your footsteps, he turned around. he froze, not expecting you to look so... domestic... in his clothes like that. he started to imagine how you'd look in his clothes, post-shower after you two just had the most mind-blowing sex of all time. a soft smile appears on his lips as he slides your plate across the counter to you.

"you should come hang out with me and lena."

you lean against the counter as you take the plate. he just nods and follows you to the living room where lena was. you both sit on either side of her, causing her to smile while she's mid-bite into her sandwich. you glance over at pope, who's already looking at you. you feel your skin heat at the eye contact, quickly looking back at the TV. he also faces forward, leaving everyone to eat their lunch in comfortable silence. after a while, lena yawns and snuggles into pope's side. he wraps an arm around her and holds her close, watching as her breath starts to even out. you smile at the sight, quietly taking out your phone and snapping a picture when he wasn't looking.

eventually, he carries lena to her room and lays her in her bed. he shuts the door quietly before returning to the living room with you. you look over at him, eyes tracing along his strong jawline and the slope of his nose. fuck, he'd be trouble if he ever realized how beautiful he was. his dark auburn curls looked soft, and you found yourself wanting to run your hands through them. he finally looks at you, catching you right in the act of staring. his hardened hazel eyes almost seemed to soften when they landed on you, but you were sure that was just your imagination. you stand up from the couch, grabbing your plate and lena's. pope follows suit, following you out to the kitchen.

"i'll wash these."

his gruff voice sends a shiver down your spine, but you nod. you set the dishes in the sink and move out of his way.

"so i was thinking..."

you speak up, resting against the counter next to the sink. he glances up at you for a moment, freezing when he realized how close you were standing to him.

"what if we took lena out to dinner tonight? maybe somewhere on the shore or something so we can watch the sunset?"

he ponders for a moment, thinking about how beautiful you would look in the warm and bright colors of the setting sun. he's nodding almost enthusiastically now, going back to washing the dishes. you smile and watch as he goes back to work. damn those stupid yellow gloves for hiding the way his fingers were probably gripping and flexing over the dishes. you were beginning to feel like a victorian man seeing a woman's ankle for the first time. you stand there, enjoying this somewhat intimate moment between the two of you. once he's finished, he looks over at you while sliding off the gloves. you can hardly focus as you watch the yellow rubber fall from his hands, revealing the tantalizing digits that you dreamed about quite often.

he holds one of his hands out to you, palm facing upward. you blink, unsure of what to do. he lets out an unsteady breath, reaching further until his hand wraps around your wrist ever so gently. you let him pull you toward his bedroom, your heart rate picking up the closer you get. he walks you inside, letting go of your wrists as he walks over to the closet. you stand still, afraid to move. you watch as he opens his closet, then he looks back to you.

"i wanna wear something nice. i need help finding it."

you let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding, walking over to the closet. you gently sift through his closet, most of his clothes being the same style and color shirt, same with the pants. however, you did manage to find a black polo that seemed to stand out. you take it out, finding the lightest pair of blue jeans he owned (which were still pretty dark) and pairing them together. you hand him the clothes and he assesses them skeptically. finally, he gives a nod of approval and lays them down on his bed. he turns back to face you, noticing the small smile on your face.

"what's funny?"

he glares at you, waiting for you to tease him about his wardrobe, or lack thereof.

"nothing's funny, i just think it's cool that you came to me for fashion advice."

he rolls his eyes at you, but he's not truly annoyed. he'd wanted to ask you for more than just fashion advice, but he wasn't feeling brave enough. a soft sigh escapes his lips as he walks toward the door.

"gonna clean the pool and work on the car some before we go."

you nod and watch him walk out without another word. you go off to the living room and find some way to pass the next couple hours.

you all were on the way to dinner, pope was driving his truck while you were in the passenger seat and lena was in the back. she was glancing out the window, watching the building on the street go by with a smile on her face.

"come on... can you please tell me where we're going?"

lena whines at you, causing you to chuckle. pope glances in the rearview, his eyes crinkling just a bit.

"we're almost there, lee. i told you it's a surprise!"

she groans in protest, flopping her head back against the car seat. but, as you promised, you shortly afterwards pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. pope got out, helping lena from her carseat. he frowns at you when he sees that you got out of the car by yourself, which makes you laugh. he grunts, watching lena take your hand as you walk toward the front door. he holds the door for you two, his hand ghosting the small of your back before he walks in behind you. you're all seated outside on the patio of the restaurant, admiring the view of the ocean from there. lena's eyes are wide with excitement as she takes in the view of the setting sun.

"best surprise ever!"

she wraps her little arms around you with a big grin. you return the embrace, running a hand over her hair. she sits back in her seat when it's time to order food. pope sits across from you and lena, meaning he could just watch you two interact for the next couple hours. you looked even more beautiful than he could imagine, the way the colors of the sunset made your skin glow. the way it all reflected in your eyes, he couldn't get enough of the view. he'd hardly even thought about the sunset when he had you right in front of him. as suspected, dinner went swimmingly and lena was already getting sleepy again.

"wanna walk on the beach for a couple minutes?"

you look over at lena, whose head is resting on your arm. she nods sleepily, little hands wrapped around your arm. you chuckle, looking over at pope who looked the most calm he ever had since you met him. he nods as well, getting up from his chair. he walks around the table to lena, gently lifting her into his arms, holding out his free hand to you. you smile and take his hand, walking down the wooden steps and into the sand. you walk closer to the shore, the view stealing the breath from your lungs. you look over at pope and lena, watching the way their expressions almost matched in awe. pope was still holding onto your hand tightly, the other firmly holding lena. these were the moments that pope thought he'd only be able to dream of, but yet here the three of you were.

lena's eventually fast asleep in his arms, head resting on his shoulder. he gently squeezed your hand, causing you to look over at him. he's closer than you remember, and before you can second guess yourself, you lean in and plant a soft kiss on his lips. he returns it almost immediately, although it was a bit haphazard. you pull away, rubbing your free hand along his bicep and resting your chin on his shoulder.

"should probably head back before sleeping beauty gets cranky."

he nods at your words, leading you all back toward the truck. he gets lena into the carseat without her waking up. this time, he doesn't let go of you, meaning he could open the passenger side door for you. you laugh at him again, climbing into the seat and buckling your seatbelt. he shuts the door gently and rounds the car to get into the driver's side. you make it back to the house and get out of the car while pope grabs lena again. you hold the door for him this time as he carries her off to her bed. you wait in the kitchen for him, sitting at one of the stools. he returns a couple minutes later, standing next to your stool. he's the one to lean in this time, kissing you with more intention than the previous time. his arms slip around your waist while your hands rest on his chest.

you sigh into the kiss, pulling him in closer by his shoulders. he leans into you, clearly not willing to pull away any time soon. you stand from the stool pressing him back against the counter as your tongue slips into his mouth. a soft groan escapes from him, but his tongue begins to tangle with yours soon after. his hands slip lower, over the curve of your ass, causing you to smirk against his lips. one of your hands slides through his soft curls, and they felt even better than you'd imagined. he sighs against you, continuing to kiss you with all of his effort. he whimpers when you pull away from him, the sound sending a tingly feeling all over your body. you walk toward his bedroom and he immediately follows behind you like a puppy.

once you're in his room, he pulls you back against him, kissing you again with a renewed sense of hunger. you moan into his mouth, reaching down and sliding his shirt over his head. your hands slide all over his muscular chest, earning yourself soft groans from his lips. he pushes you backwards until you fall back onto the bed with a small yelp. he removes your shoes for you, then climbs on top of you. he gently rests his weight onto you, pressing soft kisses along the corners of your mouth and your jawline. you gently trace your nails along the skin of his back, the sensation making his hard cock strain even more through his jeans. you feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and it only adds to the heat pooling low in your belly. you weren't sure how you and pope had even gotten to this point, but you surely weren't going to complain either.

he removes your clothes for you, followed by taking off his jeans. he starts trailing kisses lower, down your neck and over the swell of your breasts. you feel your back arch off the bed when he takes one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth and sucks lightly before rubbing it with his tongue. he moves over to the other side, groaning against you as he feels how worked up you're getting. then, he moves lower, kissing over your soft tummy. he pauses right at the hem of your panties, glancing up at you as if for approval. you sit up on your elbows, looking down at him with a lustful haze in your eyes. you nod slowly and shiver as he slides your panties down your legs. he feels his brain go fuzzy at the mere sight and smell of your arousal. not wasting a second, he leans in and licks a long stripe up your aching cunt. your fingers grip the sheets with a soft whine. your noises encourage him to do more, he starts sucking at your clit. you thought it couldn't get any better until he slipped his middle finger inside of you. you moan softly, falling back against the bed as he adds another finger. how the fuck was he so good at this? wasn't he supposed to be super inexperienced?

well- he was relatively inexperienced. but once he was for sure about wanting to be with you, he'd definitely started doing his research. his (now deleted) search history would be very incriminating, but you didn't have to know about it just yet. he continues to work at you, now whining lowly against your slick folds while his fingers worked into you gently. he could feel the way you squirmed beneath him and it filled him with pride. he would do whatever it took to make sure you were fully satisfied.

"a-andrew... i'm gonna-"

he moans loudly against you at the sound of his real name on your lips. he speeds up and changes the angle just right to have you coming hard on his tongue and fingers. he withdraws his fingers, leaning back over you to kiss you again. you feel goosebumps erupt over your skin as you taste your essence on his tongue. he pulls back just enough to suck your juices off of his fingers, a sight you'd be thinking about before bed for a *long* time. while kissing you, he nudges his boxers down just enough for his leaking cock to spring out. you gasp at the sight of it when he pulls back to grab a condom from his nightstand. you were quite sure he was packing heat, but you weren't expecting the absolute girth of his cock. he rolls the condom on before lining up with you entrance.

"you okay...?"

he asks quietly as he looks down at you. you nod and watch where your bodies are about to meet. he slides the tip in, groaning at how tight you were. his hands rest on your hips, thumbs trying to rub soothingly over the soft skin in hopes that you can relax for him a little bit. he leans over, kissing you gently enough that he finally feels you loosen up so he can push all the way in. you both moan as he bottoms out inside you. you'd never felt this full of anything in your entire life, but it was a welcomed feeling. one hand slips beneath your head while the other rests on your waist as he starts to slowly move in and out of you. the drag of his thick cock against your walls made you whine with need. he rests his forehead against yours, thrusts speeding up just enough to set a steady pace.

"feels good..."

he rasps against your skin, his fingers gently rubbing against your scalp as he held you. this intimate moment made you wonder how you ever able to stay away from him in the first place. this time, you lean up and kiss him, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. his hips stutter slightly as he already feels himself getting close. to make sure you were getting close as well, his hand slips between your bodies and rubs circles into your sensitive clit. your thighs begin to tremble around him, so he grabs onto them tightly and thrusts into you harder than before. the feeling of him so deep in you has your eyes rolling back into your head. his name echoes against the wall as you moan it continuously. he doesn't stop until you're clenching him so tightly he might be forced to slip out. you come with a ragged cry, nails digging into his shoulders. he spills inside the condom at the same time, thrusting a couple more times to help you ride out your high.

he leans down again, kissing you softly before collapsing beside you and pulling you against him. he grabs one of your thighs and drapes it over his waist, keeping you close. your breath starts to calm as you rest against him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. he stares at you, seeing the way your eyes were becoming heavy. he really wasn't interested in letting you go, so he tosses the covers over your bodies. he watches as you fall asleep in his arms, and suddenly everything felt as if it was all falling into place. at some point, even he falls asleep against you.

when you wake up the next morning, he's still next to you, but his eyes are open. he was clearly admiring you while you slept, but that didn't bother you in the slightest. you groan softly, feeling the soft ache between your legs as you move to stretch out your limbs. he runs a gentle hand over your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before sitting up and getting out of the bed.

"i'll start breakfast..."

he spoke quietly and you nodded, getting out of the bed as well. you desperately wanted a shower, so you walk into the bathroom and do so. when you emerge from the bathroom, you walk into the kitchen and see a freshly woken lena sitting at one of the stools. she gets up and hugs you tightly, asking if you'd eat outside with her. you nodded with a soft smile and helped pope carry the food out to the picnic table in the backyard. you all enjoyed your meal in a comfortable silence. lena sat between the two of you, but pope still managed to rub your back every now and again. you smiled, feeling warm inside, like you could definitely get used to this family life with pope and lena.

a/n: IT'S SO FLUFFY I'M GONNA DIE!!!! sorry if this plot was buns guys i tried my best, but it felt off. maybe i'll write something similar to this in the future when i'm feeling more inspired. but anyway, THANK YOU FOR READING, LOVE YOU LOTS, AND STAY SEXAAAYYY!!!!!! <333

this was requested by these two lovely people: @mimiviolette and @nightpitt !!! thank you so much cuties <3

taglist: @nyxmoretti @popecodysgirl @romantic-insomniac @sunbonesss @in-ky @thedivinegirlyp0p @uncassettodiricordi