#goldiegoldfish

our new “everything”

pairing: jack abbot x reader

content: jack and reader have an age gap | unplanned pregnancy | mention of one night stand | buncha fluffy-fluff

🟡 author’s note: wow i’ve missed writing so much!!! work has been hectic as hell, but the fourth of july finally gave me a much needed break to reset and write

—

nothing felt better than waking from a good night’s rest, with clean, soft covers draped over your body as the early morning sunlight wafted through the curtains of your bedroom. you could hear your husband out in the kitchen, the soft clanking of pots and pans a sign that he was preparing breakfast for you.

your meeting with jack was nothing short of unconventional. just a little over a year ago, you were nestled at a cramped but charming bar with your friends. it was one that had multicolored string lights wrapped around the pillars all-year-round, and tattered posters that had been permanently plastered to the walls.

thinking back to that time, you recalled how you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the handsome, older man sitting alone in the corner. you noticed the exhausted, but collected, expression he wore, and how he had his prosthetic leg off, casually propped on the empty seat next to him.

the rest of your night was spent staring at jack, up until one of your friends gave you a nudge to talk to him.

you remembered how you approached him with a shy greeting, making sure that your company wouldn’t be an intrusion. he offered you an easy smile in return, moving to reattach his prosthetic as you took the seat next to him.

the two of you briefly shared details about yourselves, a polite exchange before he suggested to head back to his place.

it was a lengthy, heated night spent in his bedroom. you’d never felt so pleased and desired, especially when comparing his performance to the guys your age.

you had made the decision to wake up early the following morning, giving him a brief kiss on the cheek as a goodbye, thinking that was all there was to your unforgettable one night stand. oh, how wrong you were.

the month after, your period was late. you remembered your friends teased you and joked about the chance you could be pregnant. you laughed it off at the time, waiting another week to see if your period would come—only it didn’t.

which led you to head to the local pharmacy next to your apartment, buying three different pregnancy tests to be sure. in your mind, you were already half-convinced that you simply missed your period for the month. after all, your cycles had been irregular every now and then. but it wouldn’t hurt to just be safe and check.

you dipped all three tests in your urine and left them on the counter before heading back out to the kitchen to toast your homemade bagels. you hummed happily as you assembled your bagel sandwich, plating it all nice and neat, before digging in.

you only remembered the pregnancy tests after you finished your at-home brunch. you dusted off your hands, giggling to yourself at your ridiculous predicament as you headed back into your bathroom. you were positive that there was absolutely no way there was a baby in your tummy.

you peered down at the sticks, your laughing coming to an abrupt silence as they all read the same result: pregnant.

“oh, fuck.”

you didn’t have a history of many sexual partners. in fact, you didn’t have sex that often at all. you recognized that there was only one explanation, or rather—one man—who could’ve contributed to your… condition. and that man was jack abbot.

you were lucky enough to remember where jack’s house was situated. your feet felt as though they weighed a ton, and your stomach churned, and twisted, and tied itself into knots as you trudged up his driveway.

you knocked on the door a few times, your eyes immediately tearing up at the sight of jack opening the front door.

“hey—woah, what’s wrong?” he asked, his hands easing you into the foyer.

his hair was mussed, and the prosthetic you saw him with last time was currently replaced by a hands-free crutch.

you recalled how he had mentioned he typically worked night shifts in the emergency department as a physician. a small part of you felt guilty for disturbing him, but the larger part of you was already crumbling under his gaze.

“i’m pregnant,” you croaked out, before erupting into a mess of tears and snot, your face slumping against his chest.

jack stiffened for only a second, before one of his hands gently cradled the back of your head, while the other rubbed your back.

“hey, shh… it’s okay. i’ve got you. everything’s alright. we’ll figure this out, hm?” he soothed, his voice low and steady.

after your breakdown, the two of you had an extensive conversation on the next steps to take. you were slightly unsettled by how calm jack was after the news, but endlessly grateful for his support once the two of you agreed to keep the baby.

the next couple months were a monstrous whirlwind of joy, fear, love, and frustration.

navigating your pregnancy was no easy task. it only got more exhausting after your parents found out and sprung an impromptu wedding ceremony on you and jack (which is a story for another day).

but through it all, jack remained a bright lighthouse through the turbulent storm, and by the time you neared the end of your pregnancy, you had happily adjusted into your new life.

and now, as you headed out of your shared bedroom with your husband, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your three-month old baby napping in the living room bassinet just a couple feet away from jack who was bustling around the kitchen.

“morning,” you greeted, giving his ass a playful pat.

“morning, sweetheart,” he replied, turning to plant a quick kiss on your forehead.

“thought i’d try making bagels from scratch,” he shared, nodding at the tray of dough that was laid out across the kitchen counter.

you laughed softly, reminded of the last time you had homemade bagels.

“mmm, looks good,” you praised, leaning against the counter as he filled you in on the different flavors he prepared.

homecoming

pairing: andrew “pope” cody x reader

content: pope and reader are in highschool | pope has a fat crush on reader | baz being his usual wacky self | bullying | angst with comfort | poor pope just wanted to impress you | happy ending

🟡 author’s note: this was inspired by that one unreleased ethel cain song that’s trending… i was going to make it completely angsty, but i had to give andrew a happy ending

—

“…what the fuck is that for?” baz barked out, amused by the half-finished poster that sat in the middle of pope’s bedroom.

pope instinctively moved to hide it from his pestering step-brother, but it was too late as baz stepped in, swiftly grabbing the poster board from his grasp.

“will you go to…” baz began to read out aloud, “oh, pope, don’t tell me you’re planning on asking that girl to the dance…” he cooed condescendingly.

pope stiffened, his jaw clenched tightly as baz teased him. “put it down,” he mumbled, biting down the sense of humiliation that always followed after baz’s words.

“alright, alright… no need to get yourself worked up,” he scoffed, carelessly setting it down.

pope let out a relieved huff the second baz left the room, moving to lock his bedroom door before carefully smoothing out the creases that his brother left. he looked down at the poster, his eyes glazing over the colorful letters.

he had been planning to ask you to the homecoming dance for the past few weeks. he even strung julia into it, asking for her guidance and girlish opinion when it came to preparing his homecoming proposal.

sure, he felt incredibly out of place; even borderline foolish for attempting to craft something like this.

but he wanted to do it for you.

he wanted to be someone charming, someone who could impress you, similar to the male leads of the romcoms you adored watching. that reason alone was why pope spent the rest of his night locked away in his room as he finished up the poster, obsessively making sure that every detail was executed just as he planned.

you two had met in science class. your teacher had assigned you as lab partners for the semester at the beginning of the school year. initially, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at not being paired with one of your friends, but pope had turned into a pleasant surprise. despite your peers warning you of pope’s unsettling demeanor, the two of you collaborated well, and eventually it gave way into an easy friendship. it was something that pope held protectively, especially when everyone seemed to prefer baz over him. besides you, there were only two other people in the school who would tolerate his company.

once the day to ask you to the dance finally arrived, he spent the whole class watching you with butterflies flooding his stomach. each time you’d flash him an easy smile or make eye contact with him, he’d feel the mix of nerves and anticipation worsen as the time ticked past.

the bell rung for the final time, dismissing students for the day. pope hurriedly rushed downstairs, his feet carrying him to his locker. “do you… would you want to go to the dance with me?” he muttered to himself, practicing the grand question as he opened his locker.

he reached for the poster and bouquet of crochet flowers he carefully prepared, before heading towards the lobby where he requested you to wait.

as he rounded the corner, he didn't see baz and his football friends waiting, grinning as they prepared to spring their trap. before pope could even take a step towards your direction, the group ambushed him, catching him completely off guard.

he felt his shirt become wet, drenched and slimy with a sharp, pungent smell.

“holy shit, i can’t believe you were actually planning to ask her,” baz scoffed, cracking up at the sight of pope holding the items.

the other guys followed suit, thinking his efforts were some kind of joke.

pope shifted slightly, his heart pounding out of his chest as he felt the halls close in on him.

he felt ridiculous and humiliated, the buzzing in his ears blocking out their continued remarks until something else hit the side of his face.

he looked down, realizing it was a discarded frog leg from the dissection earlier that day.

shit, how was he supposed to face you when he had animal guts splattered over him?

when the poster he had prepared now reeked of formalin?

would you laugh at him as well?

what if he accidentally embarrassed you by asking?

what if this entire time, you had been tolerating him out of sheer politeness?

“it’s bad enough she’s stuck with a nutjob like you. i heard mr. smith had to assign her as your partner because no one else wanted to volunteer,” one of them snickered.

pope couldn’t bear it anymore, quickly turning to rush away from the obnoxious bunch. his vision was too tunneled to realize that he had ran past you in the hall, your brows furrowed at the sight of his distress. he faintly heard you calling his name as he left the building, not realizing that you had picked up the discarded poster and flowers.

pope was thankful that the following day was saturday, at least then he’d be able to hide away from everyone, especially from baz.

he wanted to wring his brother’s neck for orchestrating something like that, but his embarrassment kept him cooped up in his room, not moving an inch even after craig and deran’s attempts to invite him to the skate park.

he only slipped out of the cody compound when he knew nobody would notice, his feet dragged as he walked to the cathedral, the only safe place that he had left. as he reached the entrance, his eyes spotted you seated on the steps.

he almost turned around and fled until he heard your voice, “andrew, wait!”

you were sweating slightly from waiting on the steps for hours, your hands holding onto the poster board and flowers.

“i knew you’d show up,” you sighed happily, flashing him a small smile.

he stiffened as you stopped right in front of him, awkwardly glancing around before his eyes uncomfortably settled on your face. he swallowed nervously, his mouth feeling incredibly dry as he watched you hold up the crochet bouquet.

“you… made these for me? to ask me to homecoming?” you asked.

he gave you a brief nod, his fingers drumming against the side of his thigh. “…it’s a gift. my sister told me that you’d like it,” he mumbled.

that earned him a wider smile from you, your eyes lighting up.

he cleared his throat, before replying, willing himself to speak a little louder. “i’m not going anymore,” he clarified, the sound of their teasing laughter still ringing in his ears. “you… you should go with someone else.”

“…well we don’t have to go to the school dance. we can just do our own thing,” you suggested. “i didn’t really wanna go anyways. it’s just gonna be a bunch of sweaty teenagers packed into the gym,” you shrugged.

pope’s brows furrowed, the thought of you choosing to spend time with him rather than attending a special event seemed out of reach.

“oh! how about the science museum? it’ll be open late if we go on a friday night…” you continued, rambling on and on about other potential options, other things that included you spending time with him.

pope quietly stared at you, his mind struggling to catch up with the sudden shift in reality. he had been ready to crawl into a hole and never come out, but now, you were standing right in front of him, casually pitching a night at the museum as if it were the most obvious choice in the world.

“the science museum?” he repeated, the tension slowly bleeding out of his shoulders.

“yeah! unless, you think looking at fossilized bones and learning about our solar system is too lame for a friday night?” you teased.

a tiny, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of pope’s lips. “i heard they’re also opening a new wing for exotic bugs and insects,” he informed.

“so… is that a yes?” you asked softly, leaning in slightly, your eyes searching his. “andrew, i never cared about the dance. i just wanted to go with you,” you added, sensing his hesitation.

the lingering sting of embarrassment finally vanished, replaced by something warmer, something steady fluttering in his chest. his drumming fingers went still against his leg. he looked down at the handmade gift in your hands, then back up at your face, realizing you meant every word.

“yeah,” he said, a shy, but genuine smile breaking across his face. “…i’d really like that.”

without thinking, you reached out and gently squeezed his wrist. “it’s a date, then.”

the heavy heist

pairing: andrew “pope” cody x reader

content: angst | fear of infidelity (?) | pope and reader are married | reader is pregnant with pope’s baby

🟡 author’s note: blurb i came up with while watching animal kingdom. it’s based on the animal kingdom plot from season two, but i tweaked it.

part one. part two.

—

you had finally hit the second trimester of carrying your baby. you thought you’d be thrilled… in fact, you should’ve been over the moon that you were finally living out the life you’ve always wanted with your husband, but instead, you’d spent the past few weeks stewing in bitterness, jealousy, and a deep, gnawing insecurity you couldn’t quite shake.

you’ve always been well aware of who pope cody was. you knew about the jobs, the lies, the things the codys did to survive. and despite pope’s deep entanglement in a life of crime and violence, none of that had ever scared you away from him. especially not when your sweet pope practically worshiped you. throughout your time with him, he never once hesitated to spoil you, to keep you fed and comfortable, to make sure that you were utterly fulfilled. what you hadn’t expected however, was having to watch your husband play house with another woman.

amy wheeler was the target.

amy was soft-spoken, effortlessly pretty, with shoulder-length blonde hair and bright blue eyes. god, you could go on and on about all the great and wonderful attributes this woman had, but it felt like she was the complete opposite of you in every conceivable way. she led a bible study group at the megachurch the codys were planning to hit, and from the beginning, you had hated the idea. you couldn’t stand the thought of pope being used to manipulate someone, even when manipulation was practically second nature to his family.

at first, pope hated it too. he resisted the assignment longer than anyone expected. he’d get all stiff and visibly uncomfortable anytime craig or deran teased him about “wooing the church lady.” but eventually, like he always did, he folded under pressure from his brothers along with the promise that it was only temporary.

temporary somehow turned into weeks.

you endured weeks of your husband getting too close to amy. endured them going on dates, holding hands, even kissing, all because he had to sell it. it also meant that you’d have to tolerate him staying over at her apartment because that was what the job required. he always promised you the same thing afterward, “none of it is real. i’m doing this for you. for us, okay?” but lately the reassurance felt thin and worn-out, like something repeated too many times to still mean anything.

it felt like a slap to the face when you started noticing the change in him. and you hated yourself for noticing.

in the beginning, he would come home tense after seeing amy, irritated and restless, like he couldn’t wait for the whole thing to be over. but now he lingered before answering questions. stayed quieter. less defensive. like somewhere along the line he stopped forcing himself to spend time with amy, and started tolerating it a little too well.

the pregnancy only made everything sharper. or maybe it had made everything messier. you couldn’t tell anymore. but every emotion sat too close to the surface now, raw and impossible to contain. it was hard not to let your mind wander down a rabbit hole as you contemplated just how far he’d gone with her.

there were days when you’d catch your reflection in the mirror. a fuller face, more swollen chest, the growing bump beginning to round out your stomach. it should’ve made you happy seeing the physical evidence of the love you and pope created, but all you could think about was how different you were from amy. you were softer, moodier, exhausted all the time. while amy was easy, gentle, and painstakingly understanding.

to top it off, pope barely touched you anymore. it wasn’t intentional, and that made you feel even worse. he still hovered around you constantly, made you food, checked the locks at night, watched you with that same intense concern he always carried, but the intimacy between you two had become strained and fragile. as if the both of you were waiting for the other to snap first.

the prenatal appointment only made the tension more obvious. pope sat stiffly beside you in the exam room, knees spread apart, arms folded tightly over his chest while the doctor reviewed charts on a tablet. you stayed quiet next to him, absently rubbing your palm over your stomach.

“everything looks healthy so far,” the doctor said with a reassuring smile. “baby’s measuring right on track.”

you gave her a small nod, but the doctor’s eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment too long, picking up on the silence hanging in the room.

the doctor continued carefully, unaware of the exact bruise she’d pressed on. “you know, stress hormones can affect both mom and baby long-term, so emotional support, consistency, reassurance… all of that matters just as much as physical health right now.”

you could practically feel pope withdrawing into himself, the same way he always did when someone implied he was failing at something he cared about.

after you two left the clinic, the drive back home was filled with uncomfortable silence. he didn’t even spare you a glance until he was helping you out the passenger seat.

“i—i gotta stop at amy’s place… but i’ll be back and we can have dinner together. just tell me what you want and i’ll get it,” pope said, his voice soft and careful.

your face immediately tensed at his words, an ugly wave of jealousy threatening to spill over. “okay,” you replied plainly, quickly turning toward the front door to hide your disappointment.

“hey,” he called out, “i’ll be back soon, okay? i love you.”

sweet provider

pairing: sammy bryant x reader

content: watch out there’s smut!! | sammy loves to financially provide for reader a little too much | reader works as a pediatric icu nurse | reader is a bit of a crybaby and complainer but sammy loves it | sammy kinda “coerces” reader so dubious consent

🟡 author’s note: just finished season two of southland! chubby sammy bryant… he’s just my precious little cutie pie

—

it was already eight in the morning when you finally returned to your apartment from your shift at the hospital, which also meant that your husband, sammy, had already left for work.

you let out a heavy sigh as you recalled how it had been nothing short of a hectic night in the pediatric icu. you mindlessly plopped your work bag in the corner of the living room, before moving to give richter a warm pat on the head, not bothering to move the retired k9 off the cushion, despite sammy’s insistence that he’s “never supposed to be up on the couch.”

you trudged into your bedroom, quickly grabbing one of sammy’s shirts and a clean pair of underwear before moving into the connected bathroom.

your pastel pink scrubs, snoopy badge reel, and cutely decorated id badge felt like an eyesore as you stared at your exhausted reflection. you quickly shed your clothes and stepped into the shower, hurriedly scrubbing yourself clean so you could get some much needed rest.

the second your body hit the mattress, you were out like a light. while you peacefully dozed off to dreamland, your discarded work bag piqued richter’s interest. it was enough for him to leave the comfort of the couch, his snout rummaging through the open zipper.

as the afternoon rolled around, sammy was wrapping up a few follow-up reports, eager to get home to you.

“how’s life with the missus?” nate asked, an amused look on his face as he observed sammy’s chipper attitude.

“good… it’s been real good,” sammy answered, his eyes focused on his monitor.

nate let out a quiet snort, unable to contain himself as he shook his head. “man, i still don’t know how you were able to get someone like her… what’s your secret, huh? you promised to be her sugar daddy or something?” he teased.

sammy scoffed, turning to look at his partner. “i’ll have you know that she actually appreciates me as a person,” he replied. “…my ability to provide for her is just a bonus,” he added quietly.

“uh-huh… right… i don’t know, sammy, that high-rise apartment you moved into was her idea, wasn’t it? i’m assuming the rent isn’t cheap. plus, that fat rock you got for her engagement ring must’ve dug a hole in your pocket… you sound like a sugar daddy to me,” nate shrugged.

sammy’s brows furrowed slightly as he finished his report. “ha-ha, very funny,” he said dryly, moving to grab his phone.

he dialed your number with the intention of asking what you wanted for dinner, but he froze the second he was met with the sound of your sobbing.

“baby, what happened? are you okay? c’mon, talk to me, sweetheart,” sammy said, his voice full of concern.

“my life is totally ruined!” you dramatically whined, “it’s… my stuff,” you sniffled, your chest heaving as you cried.

“what about your stuff, hm?” he asked softly.

“richter... i-i left my bag out, and i went to bed and now…” you mumbled, before a wave of tears hit you again.

“okay, okay, shh… i’m heading home now, alright? i’ll be there soon and we can figure it out,” he hushed as he grabbed his keys.

“don’t have too much fun!” nate yelled out as sammy scrambled to grab the rest of his things before rushing out the department.

in a couple minutes, you heard the front door of the apartment swing open, followed by sammy’s heavy footsteps heading towards you.

you looked up at him from the middle of the living room, your hands clutching your torn bag and ruined stethoscope. richter laid next to your feet, his tail wagging eagerly due to sammy’s arrival.

“it’s my fault… i left it out,” you stated quietly, still sniffing as tears threatened to spill over once more.

sammy let out a soft sigh, relieved that it wasn’t anything serious.

“it’s okay, honey, i’ll just get you a new one,” he comforted, moving closer to release the bag from your grip.

“no… it’s not the same,” you whined. “i’ve had this since nursing school, sammy,” you pouted, holding up your broken stethoscope.

now that sammy confirmed that your predicament wasn’t anything life-threatening, the visual of your teary face paired with your insistent whining, sent a rush straight to his cock.

his thick hands moved to cradle your face, his thumb catching a stray tear that fell down your cheek.

“aw, my poor baby… i’m sorry,” he cooed. “look on the bright side though, you’ll get a new bag and a new stethoscope. you can pick out one of the really fancy ones, yeah?” he offered, guiding you into the bedroom, before kicking the door shut.

“mmm, i don’t know… i really liked this one,” you mumbled, sagging down onto the bed.

he sat down next to you, his hand giving you a firm pat on the thigh as he softly reprimanded you, “well you should’ve been a little more careful with your belongings then.”

his comment drew a huff from you, your lips pointing down into a frown.

“what? you upset with me now, honey? don’t be like that. like i said, i’ll replace it for you, okay? you just… gotta take care of me first,” he mumbled, shifting a bit as the crotch area of his pants began to feel tight.

you rolled your eyes as you caught a glimpse of sammy’s erection straining against his work pants. “i’m tired. i don’t feel like it,” you scoffed stubbornly, shrugging off his hand as you stood up to store your stethoscope in your drawer.

“that’s too bad,” he grumbled lowly, “i’m warning you now, you better fix your attitude… you had me worried that something bad happened with all your crying over the phone. and now you got me worked up, so it’s only right that you help your husband out.”

you looked over your shoulder to see him unbuttoning his shirt, trying to ignore the way your pussy fluttered at the view of his soft stomach.

you never knew you had a thing for chubby guys until you met sammy. he unlocked something in you that made you half-feral for him, unable to keep your hands off of him for long.

“just go jerk yourself off in the bathroom or something,” you protested as you turned away from him, only to be cut off as sammy gently manhandled you onto the bed.

you fell on your back, your foot coming up to kick him away before he grabbed your ankle, giving you a warning squeeze.

“do you want me to buy a new one for you or not?” he asked.

“i do!” you huffed out, irritated at the thought of having to spend your own money when sammy was perfectly capable of doing it for you.

“then fucking behave,” he scolded, his hands pushing the fabric of his shirt you had on up over your breasts before pulling down your panties.

you laid there limply in a stubborn attempt to get back at him, but sammy didn’t seem too bothered by your sour attitude as his eyes locked onto your wet cunt.

his thumb pressed against your weeping entrance, smearing your slick up and down as he chuckled, “look at you, baby, you’re already so eager to have me inside you, huh?”

you bit down on your lip, gritting back a moan as he circled your clit with his thumb.

with his free hand, he undid his belt and unzipped his pants, freeing his hard cock from his boxers. he let out a soft hiss as he stroked himself a few times, before moving to tap the head of his cock against your heat.

“c’mere, get on your knees and face me,” he commanded, stepping back slightly.

“what?” you mumbled, internally disappointed at the loss of contact.

“i’ve gotta put your smart mouth to good use,” he said, his voice soft yet intense.

sammy was typically a generous lover, always putting your needs and pleasure at the top of his priority, but you owed him at this point, didn’t you? he had rushed home to help you out, only to be met with your bratty resistance. perhaps he had spoiled you rotten, and now the only way to resolve that was to teach you how to properly apologize to him.

you huffed and puffed as you sluggishly moved off the bed, sinking down on your knees in front of him.

“see? that wasn’t too hard, hm? since you're such a good girl, i’ll take it easy on you,” he praised, rubbing his cock head against your face, smearing his precum against your cheek and lips.

“now open up,” he said, before guiding just the tip of his cock into your open mouth. he started off with shallow thrusts, letting out clipped sighs and shaky moans as he focused on the way his thick member slid against your wet tongue and warm mouth.

“ah—mm, fuck…” he moaned, his eyes fixed on the erotic sight of your lips wrapped around his cock.

your eyes stared up at his pleasured expression as you savored the heavy weight of him on your tongue, one hand planted on his meaty thigh as the other snaked down between your thighs.

he adjusted his grip, his hand moving to the back of your head to hold you in place as he began to drive himself deeper into your throat.

you rubbed tight circles against your clit as he fucked your face, letting out soft whines every time your nose met his fleshy pelvis.

“th-that’s it… ‘m so close,” sammy stuttered out, his voice cracking as he rutted against your face. his thrusting became more and more sloppy as he neared his climax, coming to a still as he blew his load down your throat.

he quickly drew his cock out as he felt the last spurts, aiming so it could hit your face and chest.

“fuck, there we go… such a good girl for me,” he muttered, memorizing the image of your flushed face splattered with his cum.

‘cause i’m a jealous girl

pairing: titus danforth x reader

content: SMUT!!!! | reader is super jealous, manipulative, and unhinged lol | titus is whipped for reader though | titus being a submissive loser | erectile dysfunction | degrading language | p in v sex | foot job | body worship

🟡 author’s note: rewatched ‘ready or not: here i come’ for the fourth time. every time titus came on the screen, i came too

–

“you’re such a fucking loser, titus!” you huffed as your feet stomped away from him. you didn’t care for the judgmental stares that came from the other elite council families, not when you were practically fuming at your husband for the way he looked at grace le domas, or maccaulley, or whatever she preferred to call herself.

you heard him following close after you, the door behind you two clicking shut as you stormed into a private chamber of the estate.

“it’s not like that,” he said gently, attempting to ease your temper. “i’m doing this to win the high seat back for you. for us,” he added, cautiously closing the space between you two.

“oh, please,” you scoffed, turning around to glare at him, your gaze filled with disgust. “so you just had to be the one to sedate her, hm?” you questioned, harshly shoving him away.

jealousy ran deep through your veins when it came to titus danforth. you were the sole person who looked past the unfledged, volatile reputation he held amongst the elite class. you even withstood his humiliating lack of experience, if anything, you were the one who taught him how to properly fuck, unlike the few bribed women his father forced on him prior to your arranged marriage.

titus was smitten with you the second your pompous father had promised you to him, eager to finally have something that was completely his own; something his twin sister, ursula, couldn’t touch or steal from him. it was also a bonus that he was absurdly attracted to your venomous attitude. titus loved the way you’d glare at him with such disdain, the way you’d practically degrade him and command him to tend to your every whim.

despite the two of you starting off on shaky ground, titus eventually grew on you. in certain aspects of his life, he just seemed so helpless and naive. you grew addicted to the way he’d depend on you. the way you could make the grown man cry and beg every time you disapproved of his actions.

titus let out a shaky exhale, his hands held up as a visual of surrender. “okay, okay… i’m sorry, sweetheart. but it’s really not what you think,” he continued, his hazel eyes pleading with you.

“whatever, asshole,” you growled, rolling your eyes at him. “why don’t you just go fuck her instead, huh? since you clearly want her so badly! i bet you don’t even love me anymore!” you yelled.

he flinched at your words, swallowing down a whine. “no, no, no! i do love you. only you,” he pleaded as he dropped down on his knees in front of you, his strong arms wrapping around your thighs.

an obnoxious string of knocks could be heard at the door, interrupting your private moment. “yo, cousin! they dumped her body, the hunt is starting,” kip called out.

you looked down at titus, savoring the pathetic way he was desperately clinging to the soft silk of your dress. “go,” you said coldly. “now,” you added stubbornly, nodding at the door.

he hesitated for a moment before standing up, looking like a kicked puppy from your indifference. “please,” he whispered, hating the thought of leaving you in such an upset state.

you could tell he was anticipating a scrap of affection as you roughly pulled titus in by his collar, your apathetic gaze meeting him. “i’ll be watching. now go,” you repeated, giving his cheek a condescending pat.

as the hunt started, you watched from the club room, tracking your husband’s movements from the live feed on the screens. you knew it was cruel to let him hunt with the haunting heat of your anger, paired with the stinging loss of his father, but it was your way of keeping him in check. someone had to keep titus on a leash, and as long as you secured his devotion to you, you were guaranteed a place of comfort and authority.

it was a difficult hunt, one that lasted far longer than you expected as the maccaulley sisters continued to outsmart the high council families. you’d never admit it, but you even had a brief moment of doubt as you watched the two sisters weasel their way out over and over again. you made a mental note to chastise titus later for it. you let out a subtle exhale of relief as your husband successfully eliminated grace with a brutal swing of his war hammer, securing the high seat for the danforths just a few hours before dawn.

you retreated to your own private, luxurious estate on the far side of the danforth property as the hunt finally wrapped up. one that titus had let you have complete authority over in architecture and furnishment. as pleased as you were with the wealth and abundance associated with the high seat, you hated the thought of being present for the gruesome, ominous crowning ceremony, especially the part where they had to sacrifice the blood of an innocent goat. you knew titus would understand your absence.

after treating yourself to a much-needed shower and meticulously coating your skin with your collection of skincare products, you picked out a white, lacy set of lingerie, one that titus loved seeing on you before pulling your silk robe over. you spent the rest of your time waiting for his return, impatiently occupying yourself with your favorite reality show.

as titus finally trudged into the bedroom, you kept your gaze on the tv screen, your body nestled on the soft mattress as you felt the bitter jealousy still pulsing under your skin.

“i’m back,” he said, his voice rough and tired. he held up his right hand, showing you the satanic ring that sat on his ring finger. “i did it,” he added, pausing at the edge of the bed, desperate for you to take him into your arms.

you glanced over at him, taking in his bruised face, and the blood that had dried on his cheek. you gave him a soft hum in approval as you rose from the bed, swinging your legs over as you stood up to meet him.

he let out a quiet whimper as your hand gently caressed his cheek, his eyes trailing down the neckline of your robe, blatantly admiring the sight of your bare neck and sternum, before looking back up at your face.

“good boy, titus,” you praised softly, your thumb grazing over the blooming purple bruise on the side of his face.

“… am i forgiven?” he asked carefully, his hands resting on your waist, scared that you’d walk away from him.

you gave him a nod, a sinister smile growing on your face. “but if i ever catch you with another woman, i’ll blind you myself, ‘kay?” you warned casually, before pulling him down to meet your lips.

the kiss started off slow and sweet. your hands tangled in his silver curls as his hands roamed under the silk robe you had on, tracing the underside of your lace bra. titus eagerly pressed his crotch against you, his groping touch becoming more demanding as he crowded you against the bed. “i want it off,” he whined against your lips, undoing the knot at the front, letting the silk fall away.

he swallowed thickly, his chest heaving as he took in the sight of you dressed in his favorite lingerie. he thought you looked so pure and angelic for him, he could feel his mouth salivating like a mutt, eager to sink himself into you.

you smacked his hand away as he reached to unclip your bra, tutting your tongue.

“nuh-uh,” you said, sitting down on the bed. “you first. hurry up and strip, baby.”

he might’ve been the one who donned the elite ring, but he was completely obedient to your command. you had trained him well, after all.

his hands quickly went to the undo the buckle of his belt, fumbling with the zipper of his trousers before he stepped out of his pants. he then tugged off his shirt, exposing his battered body. you felt a hint of pity as he lastly stripped off his undergarment, leaving him vulnerable and bare as he stood before you.

“get on your knees,” you instructed, your foot nudging his limp cock as he kneeled before you.

“nngh… fuck,” he whimpered, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation, before you gave him a sharp smack across his face. it wasn’t hard enough to hurt him, but enough to startle him.

“watch your mouth, filthy boy,” you scolded. “keep your hands behind your back.”

his eyes watered as he complied, your foot continued to graze up and down his shaft as you watched him squirm. “so fucking pathetic. you can’t even get it up for your wife, huh?” you mocked.

“‘m sorry, sweetheart. just a little tired,” he whispered, choking back a pained moan as your foot gave his balls a hard nudge.

“don’t tell me i have to start looking into medication or erectile devices for you,” you continued, pleased at the way his cheeks flushed pink in humiliation.

he adamantly shook his head, leaning down to plant kisses on your feet, before trailing up your ankle, nuzzling his nose against your calf. he pulled back slightly to watch you strip off your lingerie, his cock finally stirring at the sight of your bare form. you teasingly spread open your thighs just slightly, giving him a glimpse of what he so desperately needed to satiate his hunger.

“you know what you need to do to earn me, don’t you titus?” you purred, glancing down at his erection.

“yes, ma’am,” he nodded. his hand gently grabbed one of your feet as he began to rut his weeping cock against you. he grabbed your other foot with his free hand, guiding your toes into his mouth as he slobbered over them.

“oh—mmm… so good,” he moaned, angling his hips so that the tip of his shaft hit the arch of your foot just right. you watched the way he worshipped you, grinning as you felt the dual stimulation of the sticky head of his cock pushing against the sole of your foot along with his wet, warm mouth sucking on the other. it always sent a filthy rush over you, watching the man that others feared be dumbed down to a lustful mutt that lived off of your praise.

his humping only lasted for a brief, two minutes before he let out a long groan of your name, quickly blowing his load all over your foot.

“that’s it, titus… now, come here,” you beckoned, lying down on your elbows, as he shakily rose up to hover over you. his hands were planted on the sides of your head, as his knees caged in your thighs.

you pulled him down in a hungry kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth as your hand reached down to stroke his sensitive cock.

he let out a sharp hiss, pulling back to hide his face in the crook of your neck as you pumped his shaft, forcing him to get hard again. “mmm… please…” titus groaned, “needa be inside you, please. i’ve been good, haven’t i?” he begged, one hand roaming down your side before cupping your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple.

“shh… i know, honey. you’ve been so good,” you praised soothingly, feeling his wet tears against the skin of your shoulder.

you took pity on your poor husband as you finally guided his aching cock towards your entrance, taking in just the tip of his girthy member at first.

“fuck…” you muttered, your brows pinched together as your hand led his hip to push further into you. titus glanced down, fixated on the way your labia stretched to accommodate him, the way your puffy clit was peeking out due to your arousal. his hand moved from your chest to your clitoris, his thumb rubbing quick circles against it, just as you taught him.

“ah—titus, just like that,” you moaned, he continued slowly pushing in until his pelvis sat flush against yours, waiting for your signal that he could begin thrusting.

once you adjusted to his thick size, you gave him a small nod, your hands moving to grip onto his broad shoulders.

he eagerly began to rock against you, the movement of his thrusts causing the bed frame beneath the two of you to creak.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he began to be more calculated with his thrusts, aiming to hit that spot inside you that made you cry out in pleasure.

“does that feel good, mrs. danforth?” titus huffed, a smug grin on his face. “yeah, ah—right there, hm? you’re so tight and warm for me, feels so—mmph—good… please let me cum in you, baby. promise i’ll be so, so good for you,” he rambled, folding over you so that he could be closer as he continued to piston himself against your sweet spot.

you panted and moaned as his thrusts became more and more insistent. the lewd, wet slap, slap, slap of your bodies colliding echoed through your shared bed chamber, punctured by his groans and whines as the two of you neared your climax.

“c’mon and—ah—finish in me then,” you stuttered out, your nails raking down the toned, freckled flesh of his back. you wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him even closer. “you wanna fill me up and get me pregnant, hm?”

he let out a choked whimper at your words, his heavy thrusts becoming sloppy as he focused on driving his cum into you.

“oh, god—oh, fuckkk, that’s it,” he groaned, his hips stilling as he came. you reached down between your bodies, rubbing your clit as you felt the hot, copious spurts of his cum fill you up.

“mmm, yes, titus, good boy,” you whined, your voice clipped as you hit your climax as well, your walls gripping around his cock tightly as you rode out your high.

the two of you stayed in a heated mess of tangled limbs, keeping his softening cock nestled inside you as you caught your breath.

“i love you,” your husband whispered, planting sweet kisses to your collarbone.

“mmm, love you too, titus,” you hummed, stroking your hand over his back. you then let your hand roam over his shoulder, down his bicep and forearm, before interlacing your hand with his. you positioned his hand in front of you, staring at the new ring on his finger, the one that he had killed for.

“i want a new jet,” you said, giving him a small, devilish smile. “i want us to go on vacation, too. somewhere nice and tropical,” you added.

the heavy heist

pairing: andrew “pope” cody x reader

content: angst with a happy ending | includes backstory of how pope and reader met | reader is pregnant with pope’s baby | the cody family pulling off a heist

🟡 author’s note: i had a few of you guys request it, and your wish is my command, so here is part two of the blurb i wrote!

part one. part two.

—

growing up under smurf meant affection came twisted and transactional. pope learned to view love as a favor, a distraction, a weapon; he never treated it as something sacred to protect or cherish.

that was until he met you.

he first ran into you at one of the many rowdy parties his brothers loved to host. pope was never one to indulge in their celebrations, deterred by the crowd of bodies and germs, but he needed the distraction. his silent desperation for affection had funneled into a loneliness he couldn’t escape, and he found that the quickest temporary fix was alcohol.

in a private corner of the kitchen, he poured shot after shot for himself and hoped that the liquor would soothe his haunted mind, even if it was just for the night.

“hey pope! i got a little gift for you!” baz called out, his arm slung over some girl’s shoulder.

it was obvious that the girl under his arm was only pretending to show interest in pope, most likely after being paid off by his brother. it was baz’s sick way of “helping him be a man”.

pope awkwardly stared at baz, his brows furrowed as his hand held onto the shot glass a little tighter. baz’s cocky taunts drew the attention of the other partygoers around them, which pope began to become too aware of. in that cramped space, pope felt an overwhelming need to make everyone stop looking at him like he was broken.

he stiffly marched right past baz and the girl as his feet hurriedly took him toward the bathroom. he slammed the door shut behind him and let out a shaky sigh of relief, before looking up and making eye contact with you.

you were stood at the sink, a wet tissue paper in your hand, as you harshly scrubbed at a green stain on the fabric of your white dress.

you didn’t flinch when he entered, instead your annoyed expression shifted into something more along the lines of sympathy. “hey… you alright?” you asked softly as your eyes carefully searched his face.

you moved to grab another tissue before holding it out to him. “here,” you offered, your hand still outstretched.

“what?” he croaked out, before his hand reached up, feeling a few stray tears on his cheek. he quickly turned to face the door as his hands clumsily wiped at his eyes.

“i’m fine,” he grumbled before reluctantly turning to face you again.

“okay… what’s your name then?” you asked.

“andrew,” he shared, his fingers fidgeting at his sides.

you never liked beating around the bush, so instead you decided to ask, “right then, andrew, why were you crying?”

“i wasn’t crying,” he huffed defensively, which was clearly a lie, but he liked the way his name sounded from your mouth. his real name.

“uh, okay, then why were you upset?”

a heavy, awkward pause followed after your question, leaving the two of you to stare at each other until pope finally broke the silence.

“your dress is dirty,” he noted, purposely avoiding your question.

you let out a quiet sigh as you allowed him to change the conversation topic, “yeah… i tripped against some guy who brought his own gallon jug of green apple koolaid.”

pope’s lips quirked up slightly as you recalled the awkward moment, rambling on and on about how easily it could’ve been prevented if you hadn’t let your friends convince you to dance with them.

“i can clean it for you,” he offered.

“no, no, it’s okay. i can handle it. i’ll wash it myself when i get back home. thank you for the offer though, andrew,” you said.

pope bit back his disappointment as you rejected his offer. he was embarrassingly desperate to see you again. desperate to hear how his name would sound from your lips when you were happy, sad, pleasured, or angry, he just wanted to hear it all from you.

as you moved to throw away the soiled tissue paper, he stuttered out, “what about soup? we can walk. it’s, uh, down the block.”

“soup?” you repeated as you considered his offer for a moment.

you knew better than to follow a man you just met at a party, but something about him drew you in. “okay,” you shrugged, flashing him a small smile as he nodded and led you out the front door.

that night, the two of you spoke for hours in the corner booth of a quiet, cozy diner. you laughed and listened and traded stories of the hectic and mundane things in your lives. near the end of that conversation, you could tell that you were already hooked onto him. and from the way pope stared at you and hung onto your every word, it was evident that he felt the same.

scheduled late talks at the diner shifted into regular dates, and after several months of dating, you happily agreed to move in with him. however, the closer you got to pope, the more you unraveled about the true nature of his work and his family. naturally, the two of you got into heated disagreements, typically with you pleading for him to walk away, to choose a life of normalcy with you. but pope was loyal to a fault, he never learned where the line was supposed to be, and his attachment to his family wasn’t something you could expect him to willingly let go of.

his blind loyalty to the codys led him straight to folsom state prison for three years after getting caught in a bank robbery. that should’ve been your sign to walk away, to cut ties with pope before things between you two became more… permanent. but instead, you lingered. you visited him in prison when no one else bothered, took his calls, put money on his account even though you had more than enough to worry about for yourself.

your unconditional consistency did not go unnoticed by pope. each time he’d hear your voice over the phone or see your face on the other side of the glass was a reminder that he’d try harder once he got out. that he’d make sure to officially tie you down. he knew it was selfish and greedy of him to want to keep you. in fact, he was well aware that you were too good to him, but you had been the only person in his life who willingly offered your love without the expectation of something in return. 

once he got out, he made good on his promise to fully take care of you. he constantly smothered you with his love and praise. he bought a cozy home right next to the beach because he knew you loved listening to the waves at night. he found you the perfect engagement ring and wedding band for you to flaunt that you were officially taken. he hosted a small wedding, and made sure to keep smurf away from your special day. he even looked into a gig as a firefighter after you requested him to invest in a more “stable” career. 

it didn’t take long until you woke up from persistent waves of morning sickness, only to discover you were pregnant after you tested positive on an at-home pregnancy test. 

pope was over the moon when you shared the news. he rarely believed that someone as perfect as you would agree to be his wife, let alone carry his children. he was so close to undoing himself from the deep tangle of his family’s toxic web, until his brothers reached out and pleaded for his help. 

apparently they had cut smurf out of planning their heists, and felt the need to prove it to her and themselves that they were able to pull off their own jobs without her assistance. despite pope’s initial hesitance when they informed him of their plan to steal from the megachurch, he caved in once he realized that he needed the extra money for your baby. 

“it’s only temporary, and think about it… at least with this, you won’t have to stress about any financial bullshit for a while,” craig said, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

pope’s brows furrowed as he thought it through. he thought about how he was meant to explain this to you. he hated the idea of having to “pursue” another woman, especially when the love of his life was carrying his child.

getting amy to come around took a lot more work than pope had anticipated. instead of being at home and tending to you like he wanted to, he was stuck attending group bible study, grabbing dinner at noisy restaurants, and watching crappy rom-coms while amy clung to his arm. 

maintaining his double life had been complete torture. he was always left exhausted by the time he’d come home, only to face you and meet that depressing look in your eyes. he hated the way you looked at him. it made him feel dirty and unclean, unworthy of even touching you, in case his filth would infect his precious wife and unborn child. it only made him even more determined to get the job done. 

and now he was slumped on amy’s couch, mindlessly watching a sea life documentary he turned on, to serve as his alibi while his brothers stole the loaded safe from the megachurch. his phone buzzed in his pocket, a text message from you lit up his screen.

a small smile crept on his face as he read your message. “you told me tonight is the last time you have to do this. pick up some soup from our usual spot on your way home. i hope you know you owe me a trillion kisses.” 

he always found you cute when you were bossy. he’d eagerly get you anything you requested to see you satisfied. with the church robbery finally coming to an end, the strain on your marriage began to lighten with the hope that things would return to the way they should be once this was over. 

“you staying tonight?” amy asked as she sat down next to him, her voice rudely cutting off pope’s lovely fantasy of you. 

“huh? no… i actually wanted to talk to you about something,” he replied, his hands stiffly resting on his thighs.

“is this regarding what you asked me earlier before we left the church? about us being intimate?” she said, her hands moving to take one of his. pope internally cringed as he recalled that moment. he had only brought it up to stall for time, so that baz and j were clear to make it out the vent.

“premarital sex is a sin… but there are ways around it,” she whispered, missing the subtle frown on pope’s face.

without letting him answer, she abruptly stood up in her dim living room, her fingers working to unbutton her blouse. “take off your clothes,” she commanded.

pope immediately diverted his gaze toward the carpet, a flush creeping up his neck. 

“no. this wasn’t–this isn’t what i want anymore,” he grumbled, his eyes fixated on the pattern of the carpet.

amy froze, her fingers stilling as she processed his words. 

“what?” she breathed out.

“i miss being home,” he truthfully admitted, deeply craving your scent, the warmth of your arms around him, the sound of your voice lulling him to sleep.

“...okay… look, you don’t have to stay tonight then, you’re free to go back to your own place. i’m sorry if i misread this, we can just meet up tomorrow…” she offered as she fixed her blouse.

“no. i’m done. with this and with you… it’s late and i need to grab soup,” he replied bluntly, standing up and grabbing the keys to his truck.

amy let out a sharp breath as she scrambled to meet him at the door. 

“s-soup? andrew, wait! where is this coming from?” she huffed. she planned to stop him from leaving, but she froze just a few feet from the doorway as she met his cold, detached gaze, watching him leave her life completely.

he quickly drove to the diner where it had all started, picking up your favorite order before rushing back home. 

as he entered, most of the house was dark, with a lamp left on in the living room. he set the food down on the counter in the kitchen before quietly creeping into your shared bedroom, his gaze falling on your sleeping form.

he stood there for a while, savoring the peaceful expression you wore in your sleep, before retreating toward the bathroom. he scrubbed his skin raw in the shower, relieved to finally be free from amy, eager to be clean and good for you again. 

he silently eased onto the mattress next to you, the bed dipping under his weight as he carefully propped himself over you. his large, rough hands gently cradled your face as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your temple. he released a shaky sigh, his heart finally feeling complete again as he held you.

you stirred at the sensation, flinching slightly as you registered pope’s shadowed figure hovering over you.

“you’re home…” you mumbled groggily, your hands reaching up to grab the fabric of his shirt. a small smile crept onto your face as you noticed how he smelled like the shower gel you picked out a week ago.

“i’m home,” he answered, peppering kisses over your face. “ for good this time,” he added.

he pulled back slightly as he reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. as the warm light lit the room, his eyes roamed over your vulnerable form, greedily taking in how soft and compliant you looked in your sleepy state. his fingers trailed down your arm, bringing your hand up to his lips as he pressed a kiss to the wedding band on your ring finger, the one that matched his now that he could freely wear it once more. he then grazed his hand over your body, eventually stilling as his palm rested against the round swell of your stomach as he kept his intense gaze on your face.

“soup’s outside on the counter,” he mumbled.

“the soup can wait,” you answered, your breath hitching as his large hand moved heavily to your hip.

“i’m ready to pay what i owe you,” he said, his tone gentle. “a trillion kisses, isn’t that right?” he teased, giving your hip a playful pat.

“nuh-uh, it’s going to be a trillion kisses plus interest… you need to pay up now, andrew,” you demanded softly, your hands moving to grip his broad shoulders.

he let out an amused huff as he leaned down, his nose brushing against yours.

titus with a pup!reader.. i feel like he'd love the control, the power imbalance, the symbolism of the collar on her neck

and the fact that he'd LOVE to watch them squirm everytime he denies them an orgasm, or how they'd do anything for praise that he rarely gives... (bonus points if theres dumbification 😝)

who's a good girl?

pairing: titus danforth x reader

content: SMUT!!!! | porn with a bit of plot | puppy reader | reader gets turned into a demi-human | brief mention of kidnapping and satanic ritual | dubious consent | praise kink

🟡 author’s note: thank you for the request anon! took a little creative spin to add background to their story. hope you enjoy it!

—

titus prided himself in his fine collection of the uncommon. it was hard to appeal to his tastes when he practically had unlimited access to anything and everything he could ever want since he was a young boy. 

it was known that he was spoiled rotten with material gifts. and when it was so easy to afford what he wanted, his desires began to take a turn. his craving shifted more towards non-traditional things, possessions that few or none could ever obtain.

his greedy appetite led him straight to you.

you were a struggling graduate student, working some meager-paying job that he hadn’t cared to remember. but you had piqued his interest enough for him to lure you away from your life, to ease you into trusting him.

sweet, poor, little you had no idea what you were falling into. you were naive enough to trust that a man of his status had innocent intentions of merely courting you.

🟡 hey guys! i thought i’d make this post to help make my page easier to navigate as i continue writing more. i’m also open to taking requests, so feel free to send me any ideas or prompts you’d like to see!

—

ANDREW “POPE” CODY

🟡 the heavy heist (completed)

fear of infidelity | reader and pope are married | reader is pregnant with pope’s baby | angst with a happy ending

part one. part two.

🟡 homecoming (completed)

pope and reader are in highschool | pope crushing on reader | baz being an absolute dick | angst with comfort | pope feeling isolated and humiliated | happy ending

oneshot.

JACK ABBOT

🟡 our new “everything” (completed)

husband! jack abbot x wife! reader | first meeting | one night stand which led to unplanned pregnancy | unconventional marriage | fluff

part one. part two.

SAMMY BRYANT

🟡 sweet provider (completed)

meanish! sammy x whiny! reader | sammy loves to financially provide and spoil reader | smut | sammy receiving oral

oneshot.

TITUS DANFORTH

🟡 ‘cause i’m a jealous girl (completed)

titus is absolutely whipped for reader | mean and degrading reader | smut | foot job | emotional manipulation | p in v sex

oneshot.

🟡 who's a good girl? (completed)

first request!!! | demi-human puppy reader | brief mention of kidnapping and satanic ritual | dubious consent | porn with some plot | praise kink

oneshot.