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pittrabbit · 10 days ago

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thank you so much!!!! this is so touching and so nice to hear from a fellow writer!!! im so happy u enjoyed my writing 😭❤️

selfless.

content: andrew cody x reader, fix it fic for season two of animal kingdom, reader is meant to be 25-30, reader is deran's friend, deran already owned his bar before season two in this, mostly canon compliant, A LOT of world building, reader occasionally takes place for a few pre-existing characters, frequent switch of povs, dark themes, murder, suicide attempt, SPOILERS for seasons 1 and 2 of animal kingdom, friends(?) to lovers, jealousy, smut, mentions of masturbation, handjob, unprotected p in v sex, etc etc etc.

summary: meant to work a job now that he was out of smurf's watchful eye, andrew hadn't expected to meet amy, putting it all in jeopardy. but much less was he expecting to meet you.

word count: 17.5k

note: this mostly follows the canon and plotline of the actual show except for some tweaks here and there and the addition of the reader into the story!! will be a little hard to follow if u havent watched the show at all!!

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"Man, I already told you she can't be in here."

"C'mon, man. She's got a fake — it's a good one! We went to another bar down town and they let her in, it's-"

"How many times do I have to say no, Craig? She's a kid. She's gonna get me shut down."

Deran eyed his brother from behind the bar, cocking his head towards Nicky when Craig mentioned the ID, an incredulous look in his eye as if to say 'really? they really buy that shit over there?' The girl looked 16, no matter how close to 18 she actually was. And Deran just didn't care about her enough (or at all) to risk his freshly-opened bar just to allow Craig's underage girlfriend to get high in the bathroom.

The place was still empty, closed for stocking and replenishment purposes. Craig was here with Nicky for god knows what reason, but Deran wanted to save himself the trouble of throwing them out later during the day.

He still wasn't sure why Craig kept her around, why Smurf let her stay in the house and in on private information that would probably get them arrested if the wrong person got her alone.

"Dude, she's just-"

"No. That's final." he huffed. "Now get out of here. We open in an hour and I'm still waiting on my new bartender to head in."

That sparked Craig's attention, though Nicky had already muttered some complaints under her breath as she stomped towards the door, now standing by it as she waited for Craig to follow along — which he was likely to do, always at her beck and call even when she was half Craig's age.

"New bartender? You opened this place like last week. You're already hiring a new one? What happened to, uh, Leah? No, Carla, right?"

"Jenna quit cause the hours weren't working for her. I got a new one coming in today. It's a friend I met at another bar downtown. The one I told you about. You'll like her—" he halted, stopping Craig before he could interject. "— which is why I need you gone so you don't scare her off on her first day."

Craig complained, argued back, even got Nicky involved, but ultimately listened to his brother and walked away, following Nicky out the door and huffing to himself at how high-strung Deran had been since the bar's opening a month ago. He'd show up later today, probably. He usually did.

Deran kept cleaning up around the place, a little understaffed at the moment and taking on more responsibility than usual. He hoped that you'd be the saving grace that would take on some of the brunt of the job for him.

It'd been a while since he'd met you. Had found you at a bar across town about a year ago when the idea of buying a bar had first taken root in his brain. Before he could even consider the idea a possibility while he lived under Smurf's watchful eye. But now he was away, now the guys were all on his side — to some extent, at least. Now he wasn't the only outlier and could get shit done on his own. They were pulling their own jobs, taking on a church sometime next month.

Your meeting had been by chance. He wasn't really one to meet girls in bars (for more reasons than the obvious), but it wasn't really him that put himself in your orbit. It had been more of a chance encounter.

Some guy had been bugging at you, poking the bear repeatedly while everyone else at the bar's counter continued to mind their own business, well aware of the fact that you were being harassed by some asshole but not doing anything about it — not that Deran was all that interested in helping you out either.

You managed to flip the situation on him, though, snapped after ten consecutive minutes of some asshole bothering you. It'd been as unexpected to Deran as it'd been to Adrian, who'd been sitting next to him. Within seconds you had him with his arm twisted behind his back, yelping in pain and pinned against the counter while others watched the glasses shatter on the floor.

Without thinking much of it, Deran offered to pay for whatever damages you'd caused, him and Adrian talking down the bartender from kicking you out along with the idiot you'd humiliated in front of everyone. The three of you spent the rest of the night together getting drunk on some lone corner of the bar, with Deran carelessly letting you in for reasons he couldn't really explain. He liked you, and so did Adrian, so it was easy to let his guard down that day.

Having been with Adrian that day, it became obvious to you what was going on between them. That made you about the third person to know about Deran's best-kept secret, leading to a rare closeness between you and one of the younger Cody boys.

And he made sure to keep you away from Smurf's shit, much like he did with Adrian. Despite your general awareness of the family's shady workings, you remained just as clueless to the details as any other citizen of Oceanside, being kept as yet another one of Deran's secrets.

But that was until today, the first day of your new position as his nighttime bartender.

When he'd found himself in need of someone ASAP, you were the first person he thought of, and the only person he knew would have his back no matter how last minute his need came to be. And he was mostly okay with it, even if he'd now have to put up with Baz eyeing you while he pretended not to do so, with Craig checking you out shamelessly, with J looking to you with suspicion, and with Pope doing whatever the fuck Pope did when a pretty girl hung around Deran.

Just when he began to think about his brothers again, the bell hanging above the entrance jingled, causing him to look up and find you standing there.

"Shit, this place's sick." you walked slowly as you took in the place, letting your bag fall on one of the stools as you approached Deran. "How come you've never let me come?"

"I told you – my brothers. Which, by the way, just steer clear of Craig and you should be fine. Baz might look at you weird, maybe the kid too. Pope might seem a little scary, but he's a good boy unless provoked."

You nodded. "They gonna be here tonight?"

"They're here most nights. We got a job soon, so they'll be here pretty often for a while." he gestured at you to follow him behind the bar. "I'll introduce you this time. Might as well."

"They know who I am, though, right?"

Deran nodded yes. "Yeah. This is just for formalities. You should probably steer away still."

"Yeah, whatever. Not really seeing myself interested in any other Cody brothers. Now, onto business."

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Introductions had been fine.

Deran had been right about Craig, who practically propositioned himself to you within seconds of meeting you.

"Why is your brother looking at me like he wants to take me right against the bar?" you'd asked once you were at a distance.

"You're a hot bartender, everyone's gonna be looking at you like that as soon as they walk through the door. But, uh, yeah, you should probably keep away from him."

J had nodded in acknowledgement to your presence, and Baz had wondered why Deran hadn't introduced you earlier since you'd been close friends for so long. None of them had really cared much for your existence other than to show some apprehension at finally putting a face to the name they'd occasionally hear about for the past year.

Pope hadn't reacted much, only giving you that blank and brooding stare Deran had warned you about before. And as cliche at it sounded, it was that same unwavering stare that caught your attention. He was unlike the rest of the guys, not offering you any sort of judgment (even though his furrowed brows would've told anyone else otherwise). He looked pained more than anything, like the sole black sheep of the group, not really reacting much as his brothers spoke to one another, only ever delivering almost monosyllabic responses when spoken to, nursing a single drink the entirety of the night.

Even when you walked back to your stationary position at the bar, you still occasionally eyed him, finding him looking back at you every so often. You never smiled when he looked, never even nodded or acknowledged him, only ever looking back.

By the end of the night, they were all gone, all heading their own ways while you stayed behind to clean up (part of your job, but a bad one when it came to cleaning up a bar). Even Deran skipped out on you, giving you some half-assed excuse as he ran out with Adrian. It was the usual lie he gave the guys to run off with him, still scared of the rest of them knowing about his secret and opting to leave you to clean up the mess on your own.

But you weren't on your own. Or at least you realized that after a few minutes of cleaning up when you heard a silent grunt from the other side of the room.

Peering over, you found Pope cleaning up some tables, overly focused as he scraped at some deeply infused stains taking up space on the surface of the table.

You walked over without thinking too much of it, taking a clean wipe and a stain remover on each respective hand before placing them on the table in exchange for the dry napkin he'd been using — likely the only thing he found at hand.

"You don't have to do this, y'know? Deran, that asshole, he's the one who should be helping me. But he pays me, so it's fine. You can go back out there with your-"

"I'm good."

With no further words, he grabbed the supplies you'd set on the table, beginning to use them after throwing out his napkin.

He stayed silent for a while as he kept cleaning, his back mostly to you and his mind fully on the task. You decided to stay nearby, cleaning basically side by side as he continued to clean.

"This is- this is a good one. This is what I use back home." he broke the silence, unexpectedly enough.

You nodded to yourself. "Yeah. I got these for Deran last month. Idiot's a mess. Doesn't know how to clean."

Surprisingly, that earned you a chuckle (maybe a sarcastic scoff, you weren't sure). You knew him to not be very expressive, so even as your first time meeting, the slight curve of his lip shocked you. Still, your expression remained stagnant.

"Sounds like Deran."

Another few beats of silence, only interrupted by the brief and occasional clatter of cups as you removed them in order to wipe tables. The two of you remained in each other's orbits, close enough to speak lightly and deliver the sound to the other's ear without much effort.

"I'm surprised at least one of the Cody boys knows how to clean." you broke the silence again.

"Yeah? I'm the only one who does."

There was a lightness to his voice. Much unlike how Deran had described him since you'd known him — and he spoke about his brothers more than he'd be willing to admit.

"You clean up after all four? Jesus. Maybe you should be getting the bigger cut of those jobs you guys do."

You hadn't meant anything by it. Not really. The Cody's going on shady jobs was no secret to anyone. It was more of an unspoken thing. One of those things in which you couldn't be caught unless it was red handed, and the Cody's always made sure they came back with their hands clean.

Still, it made Pope halt. And you realized immediately that you'd probably spoken out of turn. Your cool remained, allowing you to not react, but you could still see a stilled Pope on your peripheral view.

"What's Deran told you?"

Slowly but surely, Pope continued his movements, likely wanting to assess how much you knew instead of jumping to conclusions. Still, you knew he'd probably kick his brother's ass about this later. Hell, you'd apologize to Deran if he survived it.

"Uh, he mentions stuff from time to time. I just moved in upstairs with him, so it's kinda hard to ignore all the phone calls and money coming around. He never goes into the specifics, though." you replied. "Sorry, I won't bring it up again. Not really interested in that stuff, anyway."

You looked at him as you said it, figuring that someone as big as him on eye contact would appreciate the ability to assess your honesty through your eyes — which were telling the truth about your complete lack of knowledge on Deran's secret side quests with his brothers.

With his lips in a pursed line, he nodded (mostly to himself than you), shrugging to himself before putting his attention back on the countertop he'd been cleaning.

He was an unnerving guy. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but you didn't really know him well enough to assess him properly just yet. You liked the intensity he carried with him, though. It reminded you of Deran, but Pope just happened to draw you in more easily. Any scary stories you'd heard about him sounded silly now that you shared this quiet space with him, now that you watched him willingly stay behind and help you clean out of his own volition.

(Which, unbeknownst to you at the moment, had been just an excuse to make sure Deran didn't leave his friend alone at night at a bar in what was arguably a sketchy side of town).

"It's Andrew, by the way."

"Hmm?"

"My- my name. It's Andrew." he stuttered a bit. "You can just call me Andrew."

"Pope reserved for friends only?" you joked.

"No. Andrew is."

And he left it at that, moving from his spot to some of the tables across the bar. Didn't explain what he meant or why he'd say it to you specifically, someone he'd just met. It felt strange, but gratifying all the same. Like a stray dog who entrusted in you, who chose you despite its lack of trust in anyone else.

The two of you continued to clean up the place side by side. The occasional comment was shared, but not much was revealed. He'd asked how you met Deran, which you told him. You'd asked who his favorite brother was, to which he responded that it varied and asked you the same thing, likely not expecting you to say that at that moment, it was him.

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Along with working at the bar, you had a day job as a nurse. It was more of a part-time gig.

You worked on rare occasions, only ever called in when someone was sick or took a leave of absence. It never got in the way of your work at the bar, as that was your priority. Nothing really held a candle to those Oceanside tips you got from smiling at the right person while they were on their way to blackout drunk.

Other than that, you'd sometimes volunteer at the local church.

It wasn't really your vibe, with religion not being something you were particularly into. It had been a coworker who had gotten you into the gig, insisting they needed extra hands and that you were a natural one with kids, frequently filling in as a pedes nurse at the local hospitals. And it was true, you really did find it easy to work with kids. The free food and letters of recommendation to attach to your resume were other contributing factors, but you liked to think you were doing it for more noble reasons.

Oddly enough, Deran took a particular interest when you'd brought up a shift watching over the kids' bible study at the local mega church. He was the last guy you'd ever thought would perk his ears up at the mention of Jesus, but you didn't really question it the first time he asked you about it.

The second and third time, you got more suspicious, but by the fourth time you realized it'd been a mistake to bring it up.

It had come up as a way to break the comfortable silence. You'd been stocking up bottles behind the counter, checking off boxes from the checklist and making sure everything was in place, that none of the other workers were skimping out on Deran (a task he entrusted you with). Until he broke that silence, clearing his throat as he took a seat on the other side of the counter.

"So, uh, you got church stuff this week?"

"Dude, what is it with the church? You planning on getting baptized?"

He chuckled incredulously, shaking his head. "Just curious, that's all."

But that awkward avoidance of eye contact told you all you needed to know, making you stop on your tracks and gape at him. You were about to break that silent vow of, well, silence.

"No way. Don't tell me you're planning on taking on the church." you lowered your voice despite being the only two people in there at that moment.

His eyes widened, looking to the sides as if he was checking to see if any of the zero people in the building could've heard you.

"You-"

"Yeah, I know. I'm not supposed to ask. But you keep asking me. What am I supposed to say? What do you even wanna know, anyway? I'm just a volunteer. I have no insider info as to how to rob a fucking church."

Deran nodded defeatedly. "Yeah, shit, I know. Okay, man? Just- We need someone on the inside. Pope's been working this girl, I think. But she's too green. Blue, even. Probably the type who'd go to the cops if she knew what we're up to."

Andrew? That caught your attention.

He'd been working a girl? You wanted to ask more, but you weren't sure how Deran would take it if you showed particular interest in any of his brothers. Much less the one he liked to deem as the crazy one.

You hadn't seen much of Andrew since last week. Since he'd silently stayed behind and helped clean up the place, telling you to let him know if Deran ever left you alone again. That he'd beat his ass. He'd said it in monotone, not giving you that white knight vibe. He'd said it as if it were the obvious thing to do, like he'd been programed to do so.

After that, you spotted him at the bar two separate times, always looking at him with interest you hoped he'd catch, but never receiving anything more than a blank stare — which, at least it wasn't the angry, suspicious one he offered most other people. No, he looked at you with curiosity more than anything; a curiosity you wanted to feed into.

Hearing that Andrew was working a girl (whatever that meant) gave space for that green monster to take root within you. You had no reason to feel that way, really. Specially not since working the girl sounded like part of a bigger plan, not genuine, and also, of course, because you were nothing to Andrew. Him telling you to call him by his name could've easily meant nothing. It could've easily been him making up for Deran's lack of manners in leaving you on your own on your first day.

"What do you need to know?" you decided to ignore what he'd said about Andrew. "I'm not green, you know that. You're not all that good at keeping me in the dark about your shady shit."

Shit, were you willingly getting involved? Just because the words Pope and girl were used in the same sentence?

Even Deran looked surprised as he looked at you.

"Uh, yeah, I know." he cleared his throat. "I trust you, though."

You nodded, urging him to continue. You stopped your task by then, giving him your full attention. This seemed like one of those things that required complete focus, with it being punishable by law (even by just being aware of it happening).

"Pope's already on the inside. Joined some church group with the girl, uhm, Amy, I think. Craig's out of this one, so we're down a man. An extra set of eyes would help, though. We already scouted the place, know where the safe is and all. Just need someone to keep the guards away when we break into the storage room."

"Shit, you're really robbing a church? You were already going to hell, but now you're going to super hell. Ever heard of karma, Deran?"

"Yeah, that's what Craig said."

"You've always wanted to keep me away from this shit. What's different now?"

He shrugged. "I've known you long enough to trust you. Wanna prove a point to Craig, too."

"Fighting?"

"The usual. Give it a few days."

"Your brothers fine with me involved?" you asked, knowing how tight knit their operation usually ran. Except Smurf wasn't involved now, so maybe things were different.

Again, he shrugged. "Baz might have some issue with it. J too, maybe. Pope seems chill about you. Hasn't said his usual schizo shit about you like he usually does with my friends. Should be fine this one time." he assured. "Question is: Are you good with this?"

"Yeah. We're best friends, aren't we? As long as I don't have to do actual illegal shit, I'm good."

He nodded, squeezing your hand on the counter as a silent form of thank-you.

It wasn't mentioned after that. Nothing was formalized, not even the details of their plan or what you'd be doing. As of now, it sounded like you were an insider, a Plan B in case shit hit the fan. You weren't one to be interested in the shady business they took part in, but you knew Deran wouldn't have brought it up unless it was an emergency. You knew that this was one of their first hits without Smurf, that they were on their own for the first time and needed to ensure things went smooth.

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You didn't feel particularly welcomed by either Andrew or Craig as you and Deran walked towards their spot at the beach, beers in hand.

He'd just gotten back from a job. Just a quickie, he'd called it. Something to hold them over until the church thing in a few weeks. Deran needed the money. Something about the bar, some accounting shit he hadn't taken care of, something he hadn't known of as a newbie property owner.

The two brothers eyed you down as they sipped their own beers, not really acknowledging you as you took a seat on a rock next to Deran. They were uncomfortably quiet, eyes shooting daggers at Deran for bringing an outsider along to a get-together after a successful job.

"Guys, it's fine. She knows about this shit."

"Should she know, Deran?"

"I'm sorry, don't you have a 12-year-old staying at your burnt down apartment? She sure knows a whole lot."

"Fine. Pope?" Craig turned towards Andrew, likely hoping he'd agree with his apprehension.

Andrew simply shrugged, letting his guard down after a minute of staring you down.

"If Deran's cool, then I'm cool."

"Why're you here?" Craig asked, swinging at his beer.

"I'm always here. I live with Deran, he just drags me along. Hard not to know shit when we live together."

"How much do you know?" this time it was Andrew, though he seemed less hostile than Craig, a rare sight.

"I told you. No specifics. I'm just here for Deran."

Before Craig could give a rebuttal, complain about how he was never allowed to bring people in, Deran interrupted.

"See, man? All good." he went to change the subject. "Anyways, I told you guys. This is the shit that we should be doing. Not Baz's bullshit. Admit it, you had fun."

Deran had told you the details about the job while he made a run for some beer back at the bar. You'd been there, restocking when he showed up, with him catching you up on the details while he grabbed a few beers for the guys. It was rare for him to be so open about it all, but you were fine with it as long as he was. Deran had gone this long without getting caught, letting you in on it likely wouldn't change things.

Andrew thought for a second before responding, ultimately deciding it was fine if he talked freely while you were there. Deran was one of the more responsible out of all his brothers. If he trusted you, so did he. His gut didn't feel fucked up while you were around, which was a rare feeling for him.

"It went okay today. It doesn't always go that way."

"We never had any trouble when we did simple shit." he looked to you for a second before continuing, not sure how his brothers would take him talking so freely. "You went to prison cause of Baz."

Andrew stiffened for a second, eyes finding yours before looking away. He looked to the side, uncomfortable at the mention of his time in prison, but Deran called his attention again, set on smearing Baz.

"No, you didn't wanna hit that branch. We all thought it was too hot."

"No, I went to prison because a guard wasn't where he was supposed to be. Shit happens."

It surprised you that Andrew would take the heat off Baz so easily. You'd met him only once or twice, but from what Deran had told you, he'd always taken lead, even when it wasn't for the best interest of the rest. Deran didn't doubt that he loved his brothers, but he was always sure to let you know of his disagreements with him, of how, even if not on purpose, he put his safety above everyone else's.

"How you gonna let him do that to you?" Deran continued.

"Jesus, man, let it go." Craig interrupted, rolling his eyes.

"No, it's true, it's true. Baz acts like we work for him. I mean, maybe us more than you, but... Come on, I know you see it." he gestured towards you. "She sees it too, and she barely even knows the guy."

"You've poisoned the well, that's all." Craig chuckled. "Of course your best friend's gonna agree with you."

You stayed quiet, only really interested in learning the lore around here. You wanted to know which brothers would throw which under the bus. It was useless information, but you were interested in anything you could find out about Andrew.

Andrew looked to you with a blank expression before looking back at Deran. "No. No, man. No. No, this is what she wants. This is what she does. She wants us fighting and turning on each other. I'm not, I'm not doing that."

"She know about Smurf? Or, like, how much does she know?" Craig asked, looking at Deran rather than at you.

"You can just ask me directly, you know."

He turned to you then, "Okay. How much has he told you?"

You shrugged. "I know enough to not be very fond of her."

"Cheers to that." grumbled Andrew.

Craig finished counting the money after that, handing the shares to each respective brother while you sat and watched, nursing your beer, disinterested in the money part of it all. You had free rent staying with Deran, money wasn't your top priority at the moment.

Andrew turned to Deran, extending his stack of money towards him.

"Take it." when Deran looked to Craig suspiciously, Andrew interrupted. "No, he didn't say shit. Just that you need money. Now you have it. I'll give you the rest. 16k, right?"

"No. No, man."

"Consider it a loan." Andrew insisted. "You can pay me back when we do the church, okay? Take it."

Craig followed suit, handing him the money, asking if he could crash with you guys as payment for his share.

The day ended there, with the three of you heading towards the bar while Andrew went back to Baz's to see Lena. You nodded a silent goodbye to him, one which he surprisingly responded to.

In the passing of days until the church job, you saw the brothers quite frequently, became familiar with them. They were at the bar quite often, though they always huddled together on some corner, not wanting anyone listening in. On those days, you'd take charge of business for Deran, bringing them drinks every so often and playing darts once they were done with their private conversations.

Deran hadn't brought up your involvement in the job to his brothers yet, but he'd pretty much confirmed to you he'd need you as some extra eyes, not sure when he'd be able to confirm your part in it all. You didn't care much, really. There was just this teenage girl part of your brain that hoped the job would go on forever if it meant Andrew kept stopping by, kept making short conversation with you as he dropped Lena off at the break room so he could go talk to his brothers.

"Thanks for watching her. She really likes you." he'd say when he'd go to pick her up.

"Well, I really like her too. She takes after you." you'd respond, knowing full and well that Andrew took the brunt of raising her while Baz played around with some girlfriend in Mexico.

Andrew would look down at his feet, fighting a smile, but finding one on your lips when he looked back up.

You'd touch hands sometimes while you handed him Lena's backpack, to which he'd flinch, muttering an apology when you'd chuckle at him, telling him you were looking forward to seeing him again.

You were friends. There was no doubt about that in your mind. Not much words needed to be exchanged. It was a silent agreement between you, a secret thing no one else needed to be let in on.

With the passing of days, you became certain about your infatuation with the eldest Cody boy. And you liked to think it was a mutual thing. He was pretty closed off, but less so with you than with others (or at least that's what Craig and Deran implied a few times while you lounged at your upstairs apartment with them). Your eyes would often find each others', always looking away before your gazes became too intense.

You were fucked, you knew that much. Getting involved with a Cody boy was dangerous, even if it was a one-time thing. But you were looking for something more permanent with Andrew, which would mean you'd now be involved with not one, not two, but three of the brothers.

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Next time you really spoke with Andrew was at the church.

It was your turn to watch the kids during bible study while the adults did bible study of their own. It seemed pointless to you, but as long as you didn't have to touch the religion yourself, you were fine. It was nice to take care of the kids, to braid their hair when it came loose and to take them to listen to the band rehearse after they finished with their studies.

Finishing early gave you a chance to walk around the place, the curiosity about the guys' job taking over you as you walked through the hallways, having the map Deran had shown you on your mind.

You heard talking from one of the back rooms, so you headed in there, finding the classic Socratic Circle bible study groups usually sat in to discuss passages of the bible. As you walked in, you immediately spotted Andrew, who was facing the door as he spoke, drawing the attention on himself. Next to him sat a blonde woman, looking attentively at him as he spoke.

"-be tried beyond what you are able to bear. But with the trial will also provide a way out, so that you may be able to endure. That's the part that matters. How we can bear anything if he have to."

"Right." a man agreed. "Because he loves you. So I guess we're both right-"

"It doesn't say that." Andrew interrupted. "It just says he'll get you through."

You couldn't help but snort to yourself as you watched. He seemed passionate about what he said, just a little intense about it. But you dug it, you were into the look in his eyes as he said it, as he seemingly discovered God and his mercy.

The woman finally spoke up, probably trying to avoid an argument due to Andrew's insistence. "The beauty of the gospel is the meaning can be clear to each of us in a very different way."

She looked to Andrew and bit her lip, all while he was unaware of her eyes on him. When he looked back at her, she was already looking, which earned her an awkward half-smile from him.

He somehow didn't spot you until a few moments later, when the session came to a close. You nodded at him as he stood up, now even more awkward at realizing you'd been listening.

It didn't seem to you like he was working the girl — who you assumed to be the Amy Deran had mentioned. It appeared more like a genuine interest in her, in the church. It made your stomach twist, the jealousy gearing up as you saw her walk over to him shyly and give him a side hug before walking over to someone else who was calling her attention. Andrew's eyes stayed on you the whole time, a sort of frustrated yet terrified look in them. You weren't sure.

He walked over to you then, nodding so you'd step to the side with him for some privacy from the center of the room.

"What are you doing here?"

"I volunteer with the kids' bible study. I thought Deran would've told you. I-"

"What do you mean Deran would've told me? What do you know about this? How'd you know I'd be in here?" his voice grew more exasperated by the second, but he kept it low.

It was like he didn't want you to see him with Amy, or maybe he didn't want Amy to see him with you. He'd never spoken to you with anything but a soft tone, one you didn't really hear directed at anyone other than Lena. The swift change made you shudder.

You didn't like this. You thought he had some sort of soft spot for you. He knew you already knew about the church thing, about a few other things too. Why was he mad at you being here? Yeah, he didn't know Deran was considering your help just yet, but was your involvement that bad? He was the one getting all cozy with Amy, involuntarily dragging her into this. And for what reason? Why, when you were right there, willing and ready?

"Deran said you guys might need my help that day." you chose to rip off the band-aid. He was already mad, there was no point in baby gloves. "I heard people talking and walked in here." You gestured over to Amy, who had by now eyed you a few times. "'s that Amy?"

Andrew grabbed your wrist suddenly, with much more force than you'd expect he'd touch you with, walking you over to the door and stopping there, your bodies now being covered by a wall beside it.

He practically fumed, making your heart drop. Not in fear, but in disappointment. "Don't ask questions. If Deran wants you in this, you don't ask questions, okay? Amy and I, we're not- Don't say her name to anyone else. It doesn't involve you."

He was defensive about it, practically about to blow up. It made that tiny little spark in you die completely.

Shit. He wasn't just working some girl. He was just genuinely into her.

Defeated, you nodded, looking down at your feet while he let go of your hand. He calmed down immediately, noticing your change in demeanor, your defeated confidence, which was usually blooming and present.

"I'm- I'm sorry, I just-"

"No, Andrew. Got you loud and clear. I'll see you later, okay? I think Amy's looking for you, you should go." you walked away before he could say anything else, steps quick so you could remove yourself from the room.

From behind you, you heard her voice calling his name, asking what was wrong, who were you. You were already gone by the time he responded, missing when he said 'nothing,' 'just my friend.' And specially missing Amy giving Andrew her number, inviting him and Lena out to the park, not knowing you'd probably be there volunteering too.

You saw Andrew again that weekend, at the softball game Amy had invited him to. It rubbed salt on the wound, seeing them there, seeing how close they were already. Amy had her arm perched on Andrew's as they watched Lena play. They looked like proud parents, already meeting each other's kids and having those outings reserved for nuclear families you'd see on TV. You had a bitter taste in your mouth, feeling like an idiot for even feeling this way.

Andrew saw you, just didn't really acknowledge you. He kept avoiding your eyes, unlike any other time you were in the same room together. He'd usually hold your gaze, give you one of those almost-smiles and sit by you at the bar's counter, not speaking but rather sharing your company.

Lena saw you, excitedly running over to you as you reached over for a hug. She was excited to show you she'd brought along a doll you gave her, happily engaging with you as you asked her questions about her day, about her new toys. You were the one who would watch her, keep her out of the main area of the bar and give her something to play with, bringing some old doll from your childhood or a coloring book for her. Andrew was always appreciative of it, but he'd been distant these past few days, telling Lena to go find you at the bar rather than walking her over to you as he usually did.

You'd mostly given up hope on getting with Andrew, seeing him with Amy for only the second time cemented that for you. So when Andrew tried calling you over once Amy excused herself to the bathroom, you simply walked Lena over to him, cutting him off with a goodbye before he could say anything.

The defeated look in his eyes made you feel bad, but you weren't willing to try and chase after a taken guy.

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew had gone on his date, had kissed Amy, spent ample time with her while taking care of Lena.

It was the first time he'd ever dated anyone. The first time he didn't feel completely inadequate with someone, or as if there was some master plan or pity behind the other person's intentions. It'd all been built on a lie, on a plan to work the church, but Andrew still went along with it all, still found himself drawn to Amy and willing to take the risk.

But then he'd think about you.

He'd think about the way you'd look at him, the way that look faded when he snapped at you back at the church, how it was beyond repair when you saw him at that softball game with Amy and Lena.

He wasn't sure what to do. He'd never had two girls interested in him at once. Having one already felt like too much, but, shit, he couldn't help but think about you while he was with Amy.

And sure, he thought about her sometimes, while he was alone, while he was with his brothers. But you never left his mind. Every moment spent with Amy felt like he was cheating on you. He'd never felt this infatuated with anyone, not even Cath. But he'd also never had anyone be so forward about their interest in him. Amy was a brand new experience, and it made him feel good, no matter how shitty it felt to lie to her (and to you, and to himself).

The day of the job, it all went well. His brothers saw him with Amy, but they sort of already knew. They thought it was fake, that it had been all part of the plan, and he could roll with that. It bothered him, though, that the only person he wanted to keep this from already knew how real it all was.

He saw you as he stayed back with Amy and the rest of the group. Saw you texting, likely keeping Deran updated and checking in with J and Baz as they hacked into the safe while Andrew hung around with the church's staff. He was too distracted with Amy to keep track of the text thread. He was being careless, not only with you but also with the job.

And when it came time to do his part, to go and break the key on the lock that led back to the room in which the safe resided, he was too distracted by Amy's words earlier that day.

"You might have a special reward coming your way tonight."

Sex.

He had been caught off guard by that, not really knowing how to respond, opting to ask her about it later.

And when he did ask, she apologized claiming premarital sex was a sin, but immediately explained they could have fun in other ways. Andrew felt himself twitch at the thought, but then he remembered you, thought about how you'd offer yourself up to him if he just opened up to you, thought of how you felt about premarital sex. You didn't seem like a church person, not like Amy was. He wasn't much of a church person either, just liked what it represented, the promise of acceptance he'd never gotten anywhere else.

Before he could really explore any further thought about you, a guard came in, letting them know it was time to close up. Amy excitedly grabbed onto his hand after that, leading him outside. He panicked internally, knowing he had a mission to accomplish, but he'd waited too long. He didn't know how he'd explain to Amy that he needed a detour. But as soon as they stepped outside, he realized he wouldn't need to.

Because you were there. Already by the door that held the key, guard having already being warded off by you through some distraction Andrew had only caught the tail end of.

While you watched Amy pull Andrew away from his destination, the key to the door holding the safe, you looked back at him, finding his eyes already on you, pleading with you to do this for him, to cover for him as he got pulled away. He was supposed to be the inside-man, having one simple task, but he'd let himself get pushed away by his interest in a girl. He felt like an idiot as he looked back at you, finding your blank stare as you broke the key yourself, doing his job for him, not judging him the way his brothers would've.

The guys hadn't exactly agreed to your involvement in the plan, much less had Andrew. He'd been uncharacteristically adamant against you showing up, that you be told the details. But he'd been promptly told to shut the fuck up by Deran, who insisted, saying that Andrew wasn't enough of an inside man, that you'd be completely inconspicuous to any bystander as someone who already had a presence at the church. They'd agreed on having you as a plan B and nothing more, promising they'd give you 20k for your part, impressed when you turned down any money, saying Deran was family to you and that was enough payment.

So Andrew got pulled away, turning out completely useless to a job he'd originally come up with and heading out with a girl that had promised him sex in return for his help with the charity drive.

And even as he went back to Amy's place, kissed her, undressed himself to her command, touched himself as she watched, he felt inadequate. He enjoyed himself, finally having someone who liked his company, but he couldn't get you out of his head, couldn't stop thinking about what you might've been thinking at that moment. It'd been obvious that Amy had been gripping his hand and skipping away in a hurry to get him alone. You weren't stupid, Andrew knew that. He knew you knew what they'd be up to as soon as they left, with him being too weak and infatuated with Amy to interrupt his chance with her to complete his small part of the job.

His stomach churned at knowing you knew what was going on with Amy, at you knowing it was a real thing. He wasn't even sure if you liked him. Had no idea if it was all in his head (as most things were), but he still felt sick about it all. He knew what it was like to want someone who didn't want you back, someone who wanted someone else rather than you. Hell, it was the story of his life.

Except he did want you. He had from the moment Deran began bringing you up. He'd seen you hang with Deran around town sometimes, never being spotted by you as he watched. But, fuck, he'd been drawn from that first moment. Specially so once Deran actually introduced you over a month ago. He'd found understanding in your eyes, had found your eyes searching for his, not Deran's, not Craig's, not Baz's.

He hoped that the more he got to know you, he'd be able to create a space in your life for him. You were already so good with Lena, telling Deran to fuck off when he'd tell you to get back to work when Andrew showed up with Lena, saying you'd take care of her while they got their shit together. You'd slap Craig when he'd say dumb shit directed at his brothers, specially when it came to Andrew. And you'd stare — a lot, never once wavering away from the intense gaze he'd give back, the same one everyone seemed so terrified of.

But then came Amy and forgiveness.

Amy gave him a door towards forgiveness. For Julia, for Cath, for Lena. She was on the outside, not knowing anything that could get her to run away from his in feat that she'd be the next person he hurt.

And you? You knew too much. You were Deran's best friend, practically attached to his hip, kept at a distance from the family but not enough for you to not know every gory detail behind their inner workings.

But even knowing all that, you still offered Andrew an olive branch. You never said so explicitly, but he could see it in your eyes, could see you'd accept him.

The moment that spark in your eyes first left was when you saw him with Amy at the church, the second when you saw them together at the softball game, the third being when he walked away with her to sleep with her, something made abundantly clear to you by the pep in Amy's step as they walked away.

When he left Amy's place the following morning, he felt like utter shit. Even more than he did at lying to her about what'd happened at the church, at using her trust in him to get what he and his brothers wanted from the church.

And unbeknownst to him, he'd feel even worse a few hours later when he found out that you'd been helping patch up J with his brothers while he was too busy masturbating with Amy.

The job went fine, it went just as planned. But Andrew couldn't help but wish none of it had ever happened.

You didn't take part in any of the aftermath of it all. Your job started and ended at the key on that lock, with you never once bothering to rat out Andrew for how dumbly he had let his responsibility run away from him. When he saw you after that day, he couldn't even meet your eyes. He'd see Amy when he closed his eyes, but the thought would quickly be interrupted by you, by the way in which he'd completely broken something before it even started.

He'd be dealing with the consequences of Cath's death at that time too. Had been dealing with Jay and his guys raiding his home, with his guilt over both, beating himself up over what he'd done to Cath and how Baz would now have to deal with the consequences, how he'd lied to Amy and how you'd lied for him, letting him take credit for the inside job when he'd been completely useless.

You didn't know about Cath, about Jay, and he was glad Deran left it that way. But little by little, you were getting involved.

When Andrew stopped by the bar, he'd found Deran in the back alleyway showing you how to shoot a gun, telling you the basic details of what'd been going on, what risks you ran hanging with him. He heard you be nonchalant about it, once more letting Deran know you'd stick around no matter what, that he was family. Andrew wondered if you'd ever feel that way about him, hoped he hadn't fucked everything up already.

His web of lies continued as the days passed, framing one of Amy's friends for the church crime, breaking her heart about it in the process. And in the meantime, Deran got you involved in yet another job, taking the place of Nicky at the last minute in the yacht as you tricked the coast guard into helping you in order to get the plan in motion.

Andrew had to go in on Deran after the fact due to that, cornering him about your involvement, angry he'd put you in danger again.

You were all at the back of the bar when he arrived, all with beers in your hands, reminiscing about the way it all went, how Marcos had had to break a lady's finger in order to get the job done. But Andrew was pissed. He had already put Amy on the line for the church job, with you being dragged right along. And now Deran had you doing a second job within a week?

He marched towards the table, eyes landing on you and anger wavering at the concerned look in your eye. But he pushed it aside, grabbing Deran by the arm and pulling him away from the group, walking him towards the stocking closet so he could have his go at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What are you talking about? What's your problem? It all went well, we're just celebrating-"

"You got her involved in this shit? Again? Are you trying to get her arrested, or even better, killed?" he rasped out, smoke practically coming out of his nose.

Deran scoffed, "Dude, mind your own damn business. This was Craig's job, Nicky pulled out last minute, and she was game. What do you want me to say?"

"Yeah, so you get her involved in this shit again? Did you miss what happened to J the other day? What happened to Nicky? Want her to be next?"

Andrew stared up at him, eyebrows knit together and anger radiating off him. He couldn't even explain his anger, couldn't rationalize to Deran why he cared if you were involved, and didn't give a damn about Nicky's involvement.

Everything was dawning on him. Baz's suspicions about Cath's disappearance, Smurf's insistence he keep it a secret, Jay's guys, the raid on the house, lying to Amy, putting you in danger, having you become a frequent presence in his life. Andrew had nowhere to run, nowhere to exhaust his terror, his anger, so he chose to take it out on Deran, to make it all about you, about how frustrated and confused you made him feel.

"I'm going to say this one last time, Pope. Mind your own damn business. She's my friend, she's the only family I have that I can always fall back on. And if me and Craig want her around, she's staying around. Got it?"

He walked away with that, shoulder pushing Andrew's in the process as he headed back out and rejoined the rest of you.

Deran didn't understand Andrew's concern. Didn't catch onto the fear he felt at the mere thought of you in danger.

It was a rare occurrence for Deran to lose his cool like that, but Andrew could understand that you were on a different playing field for him. That you were untouchable, a person he'd let into the most personal parts of his life, but would never let anyone mess with. And even though Andrew understood that, at this very moment, it still made him fume.

He marched past your table on his way out, not joining the celebratory drinks and making his way back to his car. His anger subsided on the drive over to Amy's, but the flashbacks took over. He was numb as he sat parked in front of her house, thinking back to Cath, to what he'd done to her, reliving every painful detail.

But as he sat there, he thought; would Deran go to you with something like that? Would you offer solace to him if he'd come to you, tears in his eyes, pained and tormented by the way in which he'd hurt a woman he loved? Would you take him in? Hold him? Were you Deran's comfort?

Andrew knew you and Deran weren't involved in that way. He knew about Deran, knew what was going on with Adrian. He wasn't an idiot, so he never acknowledged it, never brought it up. It wasn't something he cared about, but he found himself thinking about it at this moment, hands gripping at his steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Were you Deran's person? The one he'd go to begging for forgiveness if he ever committed acts as sinful as Pope had all his life?

He decided then, that he needed to find that. And if it wasn't you, if you were already taken up by being Deran's, then Amy would be his person.

She'd spoken of forgiveness, of unconditional love. She'd held him that night, had looked him in the eye as they both reached completion in their own terms, had laid with him afterwards and whispered soft words in his ear. Maybe she'd be the one. Maybe he had to let go of any possibility with you and stick with what he had.

When he went to knock on her door, she let him in immediately, making him sigh in relief.

They didn't speak much that night. They slept together, going against her beliefs, but Andrew was too caught up in his emotions to really care for that. He needed to feel something, the comfort he rarely ever found, given to him by Amy.

He learned a lot about her in the past month he'd known her. He knew of her son, of her DUI, how he'd been taken away, how he was staying with her brother. He saw the brokenness behind Amy's eyes, comforted her with his body as she did him with hers. They used each other that night, waking up enamored and with their spirits slightly lifted. They'd taken that heaviness off each other, now sharing the weight together.

It wasn't until a few days later that he went back to see her, that the guilt got too much, that Baz's inquiries about Cath got too heavy for him to handle that he found himself at her door again, wondering if Amy would offer some more of that comfort again. But once more, he thought of you before knocking on the door, wondering if you'd be a more permanent fix than Amy was. Wondering if you'd accept him after he confessed what he was bout to confess to Amy.

He knocked on her door, tears already in his eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey." she let him in, walking him further inside. "I thought you weren't coming til later."

He shook his head. "I need to talk to you."

"What's the matter? What's going on?" she asked, but he stayed silent. "Andrew."

"Do you think forgiveness is possible?" he looked to her with his wet eyes.

"I do. I think Jesus' love is absolute."

"Is it possible for him to... to love someone who's done something horrible? Is it possible?"

He thought of Cath, of Lena, of the lies he'd been feeding Amy since that first day. He thought of you, how he pushed you away before he could even feel the softness of your being engulf him.

"I hope so."

He gulped, "Could you?"

Could you? Would you hold him as he cried, as he lamented his past mistakes, the nightmares that haunted him day and night? Would Amy?

"Andrew, what's wrong? You can tell me anything."

"I hurt someone." he started. "A woman I loved. I loved her. But I did it anyway."

Cath. He saw her every time he looked at Lena, at Baz. Sometimes when he looked at you, wondering if you'd hate him for what he did.

Amy's grip on his hands loosened, taking a minuscule step back.

"Did what? What did you do?"

She sounded scared, but Andrew kept going. He needed to see this through.

"I thought she was going to hurt my family." he stopped, taking a deep, shaky breath. "I put a pillow on her face. And I held it there until she couldn't breathe anymore."

He hadn't realized it over his own whimpers, the tears fogging his eyesight, but Amy had backtrakced all the way to the wall, dropping to the floor as she cried a little louder at every word leaving his lips.

She looked at him in utter fear, telling him to stop, to get out, to leave and not come back.

"Stop. Stop. Don't- You need to leave. Andrew, you need to-"

And he tried to plead, to make his case and beg for forgiveness. He tried to find a home in Amy, to find that love and forgiveness she'd all but promised him, only to find that horrified look in her eyes he'd grown far too used to seeing whenever someone looked at him.

He left, sitting on the other side of her locked door as he cried to himself. And when he was able to get himself back up, he drove to the beach, taking his gun with him as he sat by the pier, contemplating what had led him there.

Andrew thought of Lena as he sat there with his loaded gun, thought of who would take care of her if he was out of the picture. Andrew remembered you then, knowing you'd step in, force your way into Baz's life if necessary and get him to take charge, would make Deran get involved so she would have a normal life now that her uncle was gone.

You wouldn't be sad about his departure, he decided. He'd been so convinced that Amy would lend him a shoulder to cry on, that her promises for unconditional forgiveness would prove true, that the weight on his shoulder's for Cath's murder would weigh just a little less with her support, but he'd only found the one constant in his life — fear.

If he had told you, if he had played his cards right and not driven you away, you would've grown just as terrified of him. You wouldn't've accepted him. No one would ever.

So, it was better like this. It was better if he put himself out of the picture, if he left you alone and stopped causing that sad look in your eyes every time he came around.

But still, he wished he could've told you how he felt. He wished he could've been careless and told you he loved you — because his feelings for you were so heavy they could be nothing else if not love. He would've scared you away then, which he knew. But the small chance of the feelings being reciprocated was enough for him to grab his phone one last time and pull up your number.

He sent one last message to you before he put his phone down for the last time.

I'm sorry.

Grabbing the gun, he looked at the moon reflecting on the ocean's waves as one last view before holding it up to his temple, the coldness of the material making him shudder. His hand was a little shaky, but he was sure of his decision.

Or so he thought until his phone vibrated on his lap, a dumb gleam of hope forcing him to put the gun down.

➽──────────────────❥

You were at some stupid party with the guys when you got that text.

It was your first time at Smurf's, having never met her before. Deran had always been adamant about keeping you away from her. She'd never heard your name, had never known of your existence. As far as she was aware, you were a passing acquaintance in Deran's life, and he was sure as hell to keep it that way.

But today she'd been gone. Baz had called the boys to confirm her absence, even inviting Lucy, who was the one person in his life he always tried to keep away from Smurf.

You stayed with the guys for a bit, hanging with Craig and Deran after they'd dragged you along to that job with Marcos. It had been too much too soon, leaving you disoriented at the whole ordeal — the kid Marcos had kidnapped and dropped in on Deran and Craig, the threats made against the poor kid, hearing him be beaten to a pulp inside Marcos' truck when he came to pick him up, Lucy showing up and commandeering the whole mission. It had even left the two brothers out of breath, now terrified of Lucy and wondering if they should warn Baz about her.

Andrew was what was on your mind. You moved past the Marcos thing when you arrived to the party, seeing Lena be dropped off by Alison and being reminded of Andrew.

You were worried about him. The last time you'd seen him was a few days ago, when he stormed off after a screaming match with Deran at his bar. You hadn't heard any of the exchange, but Deran made sure to bitch about it with you after the fact. Knowing that Andrew had shown such concern for you touched you, but you didn't let your hopes up too much. You knew he was with Amy, which was probably where he was at this moment.

You'd seen him walk away from the job to hook up with her, had seen how giddy she'd been to drag him away, how he looked to you and pleaded silently to let him have this. Or at least that was the impression he gave you. And it'd been enough to make your stomach churn for weeks afterwards, having to think about him with someone else.

It's not like Andrew was yours. He had never been yours. Not in the year you knew of him, not in the months you'd actually known him, much less in the weeks he'd been infatuated by Amy.

It was pathetic to think about, but you'd fallen for a guy you barely knew. His sad eyes implanted themselves in your heart, taking a home there and making it impossible for you to function without thinking about him. You still held some stupid hope that things with Amy wouldn't work out, that you'd have your chance. But you were just being an idiot.

Then you got that text.

You'd tried to go take care of Lena, but Lucy beat you to it, taking her to some room with a promise of some games on her iPad, leaving you to wander around the house as you watched people fool around. It was a terrible environment for her, but you couldn't go against her dad's wishes, so you silently hoped she'd be fine. Which was when the text interrupted your stream of consciousness.

I'm sorry

It was ominous, making your heart drop immediately.

Andrew rarely ever texted you. There'd been a 'Good morning' once, a few 'I'm dropping off Lena at the bar. Are you there?' but never anything other than that. It made you rush to find Deran, dialing Andrew's phone at the same time as you did, but receiving no form of response.

Was he with Amy? Maybe she'd know where he was. And where the hell was Baz? Did he go looking for him? What if this had anything to do with Smurf?

A million thoughts clouded your brain, eyes foggy due to the tears already building up. Andrew was a volatile person, careless about his own safety, no matter how much everything he did was driven by love for his family. He didn't share any of that love with himself, something no one really acknowledged much.

You were frantic as you ran to Deran, pulling him away from some stupid drinking game he'd been playing with Craig.

With concern, he pulled you aside, sobering up at just seeing your current state.

"Hey, hey. What happened?"

"An-Andrew. He texted me. I need to find him. Where is he? Is he with Baz? Deran, I need to find him. He won't pick up. He won't-"

You babbled, making no sense to Deran, but you kept going on and on, hyperventilating as your shaky hands kept pressing Andrew's contact, texting misspelled pleas to him in a frantic attempt to reach him.

Before Deran could try and make sense of your babbles, a commotion called all your attentions. Someone screamed "Lena, wait!" and it had you running to the driveway.

There, you found Lena, tripped over and a man picking her up from where she'd fallen from her toy ATV. Apparently, Lucy had neglected her, leaving her behind and causing her to go wandering around the house in search of a familiar face. When she didn't, she went to play on her bike, not noticing a car backing up and being pushed out of the way by some partygoer. Thankfully, J and Nicky had been nearby, taking care of her and calling Andrew in the process.

You calmed yourself down and sat with her, sighing in relief at hearing Andrew on the other side of the line as he spoke to Lena. You let J and Nicky get back to partying, staying with Lena on the driveway as you waited for Andrew to arrive. Some tears still dampened your cheeks, but you comforted Lena instead of yourself, making sure her scrapes were taken care of properly.

By the time Andrew arrived, he found you there with Lena, cuddled up against the garage door at the entrance of the driveway. He marched towards you, fuming at the party he found at his house. His eyes softened when he reached you, finally meeting your eyes and frowning at Lena asleep on your lap.

"Andrew-" you sighed.

"I'll be- I'll be right back, okay?"

You nodded, eyes still watery as you looked up at him.

It was a silent agreement that you needed to talk.

You grabbed Lena as Andrew stormed into the house, perching her on your arm and taking her passed-out form over to Smurf's room so she could sleep in there. You had to kick out two drunk girls making out, but you were mad enough at that moment they didn't question the angry look on your face.

Outside you could hear Andrew's scream as he kicked everyone out, closing the door behind you as you stepped outside and found him standing there with his shotgun while people ran off.

Baz arrived and a short argument ensued. You stood on the sidelines, eyeing Baz with disdain at the way in which he'd left Lena alone in such a dangerous environment, equally as mad at his brothers for not stepping in and taking her away from Lucy.

The big reveal that Smurf was in jail went over your head. You didn't care about Smurf. Not now, not ever. You cared about Deran, about Andrew, maybe now about Craig to a fair extent. Everyone else was on your shitlist for the time being.

Everyone dispersed after that, all while you stood there, at the door as you waited for everyone to leave. Deran kissed your cheek as he walked over to some empty room, with his own now being J's. Andrew remained there, pensive and looking down at the pool, his back facing you.

Taking a few steps forward, you stood behind him, a good foot distance between you. You cleared your throat, making his face turn towards you, his body following suit as he now stood face to face in front of you.

You were angry, livid, even. Your demeanor may not have shown it, but you had never been angrier in your life.

There had been a good fifteen minutes in there in which you thought Andrew hadn't made it. That his thoughts had taken over and that he'd let all the shit in his life win and take him away from you before you could even get him.

"I'm sorry."

The same words he'd texted you. The ones that you understood upon first sight, and the ones that were meant to be his final.

"How could you- how could you fucking do that to me?"

He said your name, defeated, but you interrupted, taking a few steps forward.

"What, you shut me out for weeks, run off with your- your girlfriend, and then you disappear on me? You try to fucking- to ... you'd really do that to me?" you cried, not willing yourself to say the words. "What did I ever do to you?"

That's when the dam broke, when your hands went up to your eyes, covering them as you hunched over and cried into them. But it didn't last long. Not when a sturdy body came to hold you against his chest, strong arms wrapped around you and head of curls burying itself in the crook of your neck as he let out some quiet sobs of his own.

You weren't sure how long you embraced each other by the pool, but by the time Andrew led you back into his room, you were spent, cheeks damp with dry tears and throat sore. He led you by your hand, grasping it for the first time ever and sitting you on his bed while he silently went over to his closet and grabbed some spare clothes, checking to see if the connective bathroom was empty before leading you in there and closing the door behind you.

Numb, you changed your clothes, accepting his silent plea for silence for the time being.

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew stood there, dumbfounded. He was breathless, hand dragging down his face to try and clear his thoughts from tonight.

It was all clouding his head. The whole thing with Amy was the last thing on his mind. He was thinking about Lena, Baz, Smurf, you. You were ringing in his head, you in his bathroom, changing into his clothes, crying for his safety, furious at the risk he'd put himself in, at the final goodbye he'd given you.

When you walked out, his shirt swallowed you, his boxers hugged your legs, barely visible under the length of the shirt. Your makeup was runny, leaving small tracks due to the tears that had streamed down your face.

There was a blank look on your face as he stood there, directly in front of you.

Slowly, you closed the bathroom door from behind you, taking a few steps forward and meeting him there.

He opened his mouth, about to speak, but you interrupted him, hands engulfing his jaw and pulling him into you, mouth open as it received his.

Groaning into your lips, he pulled you closer, opening his mouth to let your tongue in and chasing it with his own. His hands traveled down to your waist, hugging you to him as you moaned into his lips.

Everything was fuzzy now, all thoughts gone and your warmth being the only thing on his mind. Your bodies molding together was enough to have him gasping into your mouth. You felt perfect against him, the perfect fit as you pushed your hips into his own, walking him back into his bed and settling on his lap.

There, you pressed up against him, hands on his shoulders as your hips rolled on his. He hissed, gripping your thighs and attempting to match your movements, helping your rhythm against him.

He licked into your mouth, sighing when he'd catch your tongue and you'd wrap it around his, sucking at it, making his eyes roll back. Your moans were swallowed by him, with his whimpers swallowed by you in return. A string of saliva formed any time your lips would separate to start a brand new kiss, but Andrew couldn't find it in himself to care. He wanted your every fluid to be his, wanted to meld into you.

Antsy hands pulled at his clothes, silently begging for their removal, whining when he helped you take them off, feeling the warm skin underneath.

"Andrew ..." you looked at him, eyes hooded, biting your lip with a look in your eyes Andrew had never seen before.

"Yeah?" he whispered, lips hovering over yours.

Your hands dragged softly up and down his bare chest, scratching at his pecs lightly before pushing him down to lay flat on the bed.

"Look at you ... Fuck, Andrew ..."

You didn't explain yourself further, kissing him with need again and taking his breath away once more.

His own hands itched to get your clothes off, sneaking under the shirt he'd given you and feeling the bare skin there. You were the softest thing he'd ever felt, and as his hands silently begged to reach higher, to round your torso and find the mounds of your breasts, you ripped away to pull your shirt off, grabbing his hands and placing them there yourself.

"Touch me." you breathed, licking his lips. "I want your hands on me, Andrew."

Andrew undressed you, ripping off his own boxers off of you before he fully undressed himself. It was awkward, as he refused to create any space between you as he did so, but in the end he had you straddling him, wet and leaking all over his lap all while you whined his name into his lips.

His eyes trailed down, huffing a heavy breath at the sight of you nude on his lap, skin ready for the taking. He kissed his way down, low enough to reach your breasts, nudge them with his nose, trap your nipples in his lips and pull at them with his teeth.

The noises you made had him lightheaded, made him unsure if he could keep going without fully losing his mind.

Hesitant, his hands trailed down your back, gripping your ass and bringing you closer. You rolled your hips into his, sucking his tongue when his mouth opened with a sigh of your name.

When he tried to reach between you, get his fingers soaked in between your legs, you stopped him, grunting into his mouth and pushing him down the bed once more. Instead, your hand snuck in the space between you, taking hold of his hardness and swallowing every cry that left his lips.

"Please." he whimpered.

You worked him in your hand, jerking him while your lips trailed down his chest, sucking marks there without a care. He shook under you, shuddering at every bite, every suck, every soothing lick.

This was new to him. He'd had sex before, many times. Sometimes he'd open the door to some hooker sent by Smurf, taking out his frustrations on the unsuspecting woman. Other times it'd be Baz fronting the payment for a stripper doing extra services at the strip club downtown. And on very rare occasions, it'd be someone he actually liked, only to realize afterwards that it hadn't been what he'd made it out to be in his head.

You, though ... You were the first time he'd ever had a taste of solace. You were the first time Andrew had a girl he was crazy about, one that enjoyed the crazy, shuddered over it when he'd pinch at your nipple, when his teeth graced at the lobe of your ear, when he'd groan your name at your touch.

And when you lifted yourself up, his dick still in your hand, soaked with precum, you cried his name, shameless in it as you sunk down on him, arching your back, chest pressed onto his and mouth agape in sheer pleasure.

Not once had he ever felt like this. Pleasure had always been transactional, a quick fix for the mental turmoil always invading him. But with you, with your body ground against his, shuddering at every bounce of your hips, sighing out his name like it was the only word you knew, with you he felt like there was no consequence to the pleasure. It was free, all for him to take, for him to be selfish for once and keep all for himself.

"Andrew, oh, fuck, An-Andrew." your head dropped back, and Andrew watched you, groaning your name in return and refusing to close his eyes, damned if he was going to miss a single second of your pleasure.

You were tight around him, squeezing him whenever he'd make a sound, rewarding him for his pleasure. You wanted him loud, wanted him making noise for you, letting you know how much of him you owned at that moment (and always, he'd decided).

And he wanted to give it to you, to give back from everything you'd given him thus far.

With his hands gripping the backs of your thighs, he rolled you over, hovering over you and caging you with his body. The squeal you let out would've usually worried him, with the rest of the family being around and all, but then you gripped at the muscle of his back, insisting on getting him closer. Because skin to skin just didn't seem like enough for you. No, you wanted him deep within you, a concept Andrew could not understand, but quickly grew addicted to.

Sooner than he'd hoped, he felt himself about to bust, frustrated at how good you felt, how perfectly you gripped him and cried his name as if he was the only thing you'd ever wanted.

Again, he reached between you, fingers crawling their way between your legs, at that hidden spot that had your legs tightening around his waist, your gasps more breathless and your nails leaving red lines down his back. Thumbing at your clit, he got your there, got you whining his name, a warning of your impending orgasm, the one that had him biting your shoulder in pure bliss.

"Come, fuck. Andrew, please." you cried. "Inside, want- want it inside."

He made a mess between you, grunting at every thrust as he filled you up, forcing every drop deep within you, wanting himself buried as deep as humanly possible. He wanted to morph into you, wanted to keep himself in you, safe and away from anyone else he could ever hurt.

Because with you, inside your warmth, he could never hurt anyone. All he could do was make you feel good, make you cry his name in a way no one ever had before.

When he pulled away, you sighed his name one last time, kissing at him, refusing to let him pull away too far. You kept him as close as possible, shrugging him off when he offered to clean you up, to clean the bed from the mess you'd created togethet.

You told him, later. Right now you still wanted him, still wanted him in your arms and to feel his warm skin against your own. To kiss him and hold him and remind him how much you cared about him, in a way you'd never cared about anyone before.

And Andrew didn't know what to do with that, what to say or how to feel. He didn't understand how this could be real, wanted to keep his guard up just in case the rug was about to be pulled from under him.

But for now he held you back, returning your kisses, kneading your skin extra soft any time you'd tell him something that had his heart pumping too fast for comfort.

You laid in silence for a while, hands refusing to leave the other's body. No word of everything that'd happened was brought up, not until you broke that comfortable silence.

"Andrew ... What about Amy?"

He sighed. "There's no more Amy. There ... there never should've been."

You made a questioning noise, urging him to explain, but keeping your head on his chest, hands still running up and down its expanse with a softness he'd never grown familiar with.

"I was always thinking about you. I couldn't- couldn't get you out of my head."

"Me neither." you mumbled with a kiss to his pec.

A beat of silence.

"I'm sorry about the lock. It was my job, I should've-"

"It's okay, Andrew. I understand."

His hand on your hip trailed lower, pulling your leg further up his waist and pulling you even closer to him.

"And ... I'm sorry about that message."

You blinked a few wet tears before responding, sniffling and causing him to intake a breath. He didn't really wanna talk about it, but he'd fucked up so many things already by not talking to you. He had to rip off every band-aid right now, no matter how you'd look at him after the fact. He wasn't willing to keep anything from you anymore, having already made the two of you miserable with his constant stream of silence towards you.

Even if you looked at him the same way Amy had, he wouldn't hurt you anymore. He'd seek your understanding, but would accept if you feared him in the same way most others had.

"I was worried about you." you responded, quiet, meek. "I don't know what I'd do if you left."

You brought him down to your eye level, hand running through his curls and lips pecking his nose, then his chin, sad eyes staring into his matching ones.

"I love you, Andrew. I need you around for a long time."

His breath caught in his throat, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. Fingers tightened around your skin, holding you against him, pulling you into him as much as he could, itching to get you under his skin, to attach you to him and never let anything come between you ever again.

Burying his head in your neck, he kissed you there, shameless in breathing in your scent and nuzzling his nose into the skin there, sighing when you pulled him closer by the back of his neck, mumbling a few other 'i love you's while he was still processing the first one.

"I love you too." he finally mumbled, repeating it a couple more times, wrapping himself around you, shuffling as he tried and failed to enter your skin, needing to fit in there, keep himself warm and safe within you.

The two of you stayed awake for hours, held each other with the tenderest of holds. It was unlike anything Andrew had ever felt before. Every touch of yours he received was full of silent affection. Each touch carried a thousand words that reaffirmed your feelings for him, and he felt secure in every single one. There was no doubt in his mind at that moment that you loved him, that you might've been the first one to actually do so.

He cried in your arms at some point, drawing tears from your eyes too when you caught wind of his whimpers. But you held him through it all, not pushing him to talk, instead uttering words of comfort, many of which he'd heard from Smurf in the past. Before you, he might've felt himself desensitized to such words, but he found comfort in anything you did.

But then he remembered what had happened with Amy, what thoughts had been plaguing his mind before he braved his way to her doorstep, opening himself up more than he ever had before and finding himself kicked out, feeling like a heinous beast as he sat there and cried to himself. Memories of you flooded his head, the way in which he wondered if you'd accept him, if he should've been at your doorstep instead, if you loved Deran in the way he envied to be loved by you.

As afraid as he was of your rejection, knowing it'd drive him right back to that pier, gun to his head out of his own volition, he needed to know. Would you love him despite being the monster everyone believed him to be? Even his brothers were afraid of him, using him as a threat to anyone who dared cross them.

You were the only person who only ever looked at him with love (and sometimes with hurt, caused by his cowardice). Julia had been the only other person with genuine concern in her eyes any time his lips curled downward, never assuming the worst in him like his other siblings did.

"I need to tell you something." he whispered into the night.

You were still awake, fingers still tracing one or other part of his body, seemingly unable to get their fill of his skin beneath them.

"Yeah?" it was almost whispered.

"Do you- do you believe in forgiveness?"

You nodded against him.

"Even if you can't take back what you did?"

You nodded again, mumbling 'yes' as you pecked his skin, light as a feather.

"I ... I hurt someone I loved once." he began. His fingers ran down your back, already in love with its curve, recalling how it felt to reach the end of that curve and pull your middle against his own.

"Yeah?"

He nodded.

"She was my first love. She- she was Lena's mom."

He knew this detail only made it all the worse, it only made him the man who took away Lena's mother, took her space in Lena's life and took on the responsibility to repent over it for the rest of their lives.

"Cath?" you asked, still hushed.

"Yeah. I ... I hurt her. Smurf told me to, so I did."

His voice broke towards the end, but he didn't let himself cry just yet. Your hands were still playing with his skin. Your body hadn't stiffened, your occasional pecks on his chest hadn't seized.

"Do you regret it?" you asked, pulling him closer, something incomprehensible to Andrew.

"Every day."

You were silent for a moment, silent and pensive, making Andrew's heart halt. His breath followed along, seizing its flow of oxygen as he waited for the other shoe to drop, waited to kiss this moment goodbye and part ways with the never ending comfort you gave him.

"I forgive you, Andrew." you mumbled after a minute.

He stayed silent. Silent as he rolled to his side, rolling you along with him and allowed you to take his head and burrow it in your chest. Your breasts cushioned his face, your heartbeat right against him and your hair shielding you both. He breathed deeply against you, shaky air leaving him as he exhaled.

"If you can't forgive yourself, I'll forgive you." you continued.

He sobbed then, sobbed into your chest, only whimpering louder when you pressed him even closer to you, shushing him with reassurances, crying with him when he thanked you, when he continued to beg for forgiveness, only to receive it every single time he asked.

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew promised you honesty that night. He'd woken up again in the midst of the night, with you still in his arms, asleep, trusting of the protection you'd receive as he held you, and he promised himself he would never let anything get in between you.

And so when you woke up a few hours later, still too early to get up, Andrew kissed you. He hovered over you as he sheathed himself inside you once more, groaning at how perfectly you wrapped around him and how your nails raked down his back.

You sighed, cried, whined his name, eventually being quietened by his lips on yours, by his tongue in your mouth.

In between thrusts, he whimpered into your mouth, promising to keep you safe, to never let anything get between you, to entrust you with everything, but to keep you safe all the while.

So when he made his plan with Lena the following morning, he decided to share it with you, to let you in on it, to entrust you with his life regardless of any consequences.

"You're what?"

"I need- I need to make sure Lena's set. With Smurf gone, with Cath gone, she has no one. Baz sure as hell isn't thinking about her."

You were still in his room. He'd already talked to Baz, telling him he'd take Lena out for breakfast, when what he really meant to do was go check on the trust fund he'd set up for Lena. He'd go hit a few banks after that, some quick jobs that'd get her numbers as high as he could.

Understandably, you showed concern, eyes widening and hands pressed to his chest, shaking your head in denial.

"Andrew, there's better ways. What about last time? What if they get you again?"

He appreciated your concern, hands trailing down your arms and grabbing onto your hands, pressing one up to his nose, inhaling its scent, kissing the back of it.

"This is the life." he explained. "This is what I've been doing since I was a kid. This is how I've lived, how I'll die. If it's too much, I understand."

But you shook your head.

"No. If I can take it from Deran, I can take it from you. Just ... stay safe, okay? Come back home."

Some tears welled in your eyes, but not enough to cry for the fourth time in the past day.

When he came back again later that day, you ran to him, welcoming him in the driveway, a hug and a kiss being delivered to him immediately upon his arrival. He held you, kissing your hair and walking inside with you, telling you about how it all went, almost smiling as you commended him for taking care of his niece, for being the only person watching out for her, for being the father she'd never had with Baz.

"I'm gonna go see Smurf." he told you after a while. "Taking Lena with me, so she can say goodbye."

"You don't think she's getting out?"

He shook his head. "I'll make sure she doesn't."

Nodding pensively, you squeezed his hand.

"Wanna go meet her?"

He was joking. It was rare for him to do so, but he chuckled anyways when you pushed at his shoulder teasingly, telling him to shut up.

"You good spending the day with Lena today? Baz's gone. Don't know where he went."

"Yeah. 'Course."

You spent most of the day with Andrew and Lena, having to clean up after the boys now that Smurf was gone.

It was domestic, cooking with Andrew, cleaning up the kitchen, dropping off Lena and then picking her back up. When Deran walked into the kitchen and found you laughing with Andrew, with him shyly looking down any time you giggled, he gave you a look, tilting his head in curiosity but not questioning it further.

It wasn't til later, when Andrew dropped you off at the bar for your shift that he actually cornered you, Craig trailing behind him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"So, Pope?"

Scoffing, you walked past him, heading to the back to drop off your bag. Unsurprisingly, both guys followed you, cornering you again.

"What about him?"

"What, you two dating now?"

"Nah, man, that shit this morning looked too domestic. They've probably eloped by now." Craig interrupted, amused by it all.

Deran ignored him. "When'd this happen?"

"It's been happening since you introduced us. Just, uh, made it official yesterday."

"What about that Amy girl?"

You eyed Craig. "What about her?"

He lifted his hands in surrender, using one hand to do the zipping motion over his lips. "Never mind, then."

"You good with this?" you turned to Deran, walking past him and heading back inside after putting your stuff in your locker. Again, they followed you, too nosy not to.

He leaned against the outside of the bar when you made your way to your usual station, furrowing his brows at you.

"He treating you good?"

"What, never seen Andrew with a girlfriend before?"

"Andrew~" Craig mocked, chuckling when you gave him the finger.

"No. Actually, no. You're the first. After Amy, of course."

You looked at him, annoyed.

"Sore subject?"

"Are you gonna be against this, Deran? We've practically exchanged vows. It's a set thing."

He frowned in contemplation, smiling after, knowing his smile would always bring one in you and then giving you one of those 'I told you so' looks. He knew you weren't mad at his prodding. It was that brotherly overprotection he'd had over you since he met you.

"I'm happy for you. If anyone'll treat you good out of all my brothers, it's Pope."

"I'm right here." Craig scoffed lightly, but you and Deran told him to shut up in unison.

Halfway through your workday, Andrew showed up, finding the three of you moving stuff to the back, with some temp bartender temporarily manning the fort. Craig lifted the heavy shit while you and Deran made order of it, stacking barrels of beer out of reach of the customers.

When you spotted Andrew, you skipped to him, childish in doing so, but in that honeymoon phase that made it so you couldn't hold back on the whimsy.

He pecked your lips, but he was distracted, looking at his brothers behind you after muttering a quiet 'sorry' to you.

"Have you heard from Baz?" he asked his brothers.

"What? Why?"

"Shit might be going down."

"What shit?" you asked, concerned, arms wrapped around his one arm and looking at him.

The brothers put aside the stuff they were doing, Craig sitting on one of the larger barrels and giving Pope his undivided attention and Deran looking to you with concern.

Andrew hesitated before speaking, looking to you before looking back to Deran.

"If something happens to me, will you look after Lena?"

Deran stood there, anxious look in his eyes. His eyes found yours, matching your concern, not answering Andrew's question just yet.

"Hey." he called his attention again. "I need an answer. If something happens to me, will you look after Lena? Yes or no?"

He took a step towards Deran, intense. You stood to his peripherical now, slightly behind him.

"Yeah, of course."

Craig remained quiet, halting his moves as he went to light a cigarette.

Andrew's head nodded towards you, eyes still on Deran. "What about her?" he said, referring to you.

"I'll always take care of her. You know that." Deran answered.

Andrew stepped forward again, hand patting Deran's shoulder in a silent thank you before walking his way back to where he entered from.

Without saying another word, you followed behind him, looking at the boys with worry and nodding back at Deran when he silently asked you to go check on his brother.

Rushing behind him, you caught Andrew before he could enter his truck, grabbing onto his arm and calling out his name.

"Andrew, what the hell is going on? Is this about the banks?"

He shook his head, intense eyes looking anywhere but at you. It looked like he wasn't fully there, like whatever was going on occupying his mind way too much for him to really acknowledge you.

"It's nothing, just- just gotta go talk to Baz."

That almost made you jump, remembering last night, when Andrew whispered his confession to you, crying in your arms when you'd accepted it, when you'd forgiven him for something you really had no business forgiving.

"Is it about-"

"Yeah." he interrupted, finally looking into your eyes.

It was about Cath.

Baz knew. You were certain of it. And you knew it was probably Smurf's doing.

Tensions were high, specially after that family meeting. You hadn't been in it, not deemed close enough to listen in on it, being made to wait outside with Nicky and Lucy as they talked about whatever was going on with Smurf, how she'd gotten arrested, why, and what they'd do now that she was gone.

You'd been happy about her absence, aware of the way she'd treated Deran growing up, what she'd done to all her sons, to Julia. Her treatment of Andrew was what made you the most furious, and you hadn't even heard the brunt of it all.

Andrew filled you in on it all afterwards, just before he drove you and Lena to breakfast and took off for his serial bank heists. He had told you about Baz's shady behavior, about the set up of Javi's death that had gotten Smurf framed for

He stepped towards you, pulling you in to kiss your hair, eyes deep and zeroing in on yours.

"If anything happens, I need you to take care of Lena, okay? With Deran."

Your eyes clouded with tears again, already forming and obstructing your vision of the man who appeared to be their cause time and time again. Shaking your head petulantly, you gripped at his hands, muttering 'no no no' over and over again, unwilling to accept this.

His shoulders slouched, bringing you closer to him. Nuzzling his way into the crook of your neck, he breathed you in, a habit you were getting used to.

"I'm sorry. I love you." he said into your skin, wincing against you when all those words caused were a choked sob.

"Can I come with you?" you whispered uselessly. You knew the answer.

He didn't reply, instead holding you in silence for a long while, taking up the space on the sidewalk but not caring to move when people walked by. Patting on your back, he consoled you (and himself), but you couldn't stop crying anyway.

"Come back to me, okay?" you asked when you pulled away.

All he could do was nod sadly, giving you one last kiss before getting into his car.

➽──────────────────❥

You hadn't been there for whatever it was that went down between Baz and Andrew. All you knew was that you went back into the bar, sobbing, a complete mess that both Deran and Craig had to take care of.

In the entire time Deran had known you, you'd never once cried in front of him. He always saw you as a hard egg to crack, sometimes reminding him of his brother in the way in which you could intimidate people with just one off-putting look. You reserved your emotions for friends, smiling, laughing, only when around those you loved. But crying? That had been new to Deran up until the point you met Pope.

But he understood. He was the same way about Adrian, so he didn't judge you when you walked back in, crying and refusing to tell him what was going on, instead pleading with him that you'd take care of Lena together if anything happened.

You calmed down after a while, going back to the Cody house after a very short shift (cut early since Deran was worried about you).

You waited in Andrew's room, not checking your phone, knowing he wouldn't call, that he was more the type to show up, to appear when you least expected it.

And again, you cried when he showed up again, tears welling his own eyes and chest heaving as he sobbed his way into his bedroom, finding you sitting on his bed waiting for him.

In between sobs, he explained the situation to you, mumbling something about his promise to stay honest to you, crying that he'd talked to Baz, had begged him to kill him, to take him out of his misery. He apologized to you when that caused you to cry his name. He continued, telling you about how Baz held him close, promised he'd always protect him, that he'd always forgive him because he knew none of this was his fault. That he knew he loved Cath, that he knew how much he loved him and Lena and how he'd take care of everything for him. He told him that he was his brother and that he'd protect him even after what he did, that he knew he now had you to take care of, that he wasn't going to let Smurf poison the waters between them.

When he calmed down, you continued to hold him, thanking Baz in your head, making a mental note to do so in person next time you saw him.

Maybe you'd read him wrong. Maybe he was the brother who cared most about your Andrew.

"You never do that to me again, do you understand?" you scolded Andrew after a while, hushed, not meant to put him down, but to express the fury that came hand in hand for the fear for his safety.

He sat up from his spot on your lap, grabbing your wrist and bringing you closer.

"I won't." he promised, but you both knew it was a lie.

"Thank you. For taking care of me." he said after some silence, foreheads pressed against each other, breaths shared.

"I always will. I love you."

He didn't respond verbally, but by kissing you again, by sighing into your mouth when you responded with no hesitation.

The two of you became enraptured in each other again, locking lips and letting your hands wander. Tears were still drying on your cheeks, but still, you pulled him closer, moaning when his hands trailed to the back of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you and wrapping you around his waist before he laid you back down on the bed.

Undressing each other came naturally by now, not requiring much practice. And every freed inch of skin meant yet another inch for Andrew to explore, fingers scratching at the soft skin, digging his fingers in, lips itching to kiss that same skin, but being too overtaken by your mouth.

He fucked you then. It started soft, full of worry, more passionate than he'd ever felt before. But his need for you took over after the third sigh of his name against his ear. He hovered over you, grabbing your legs and holding them up, open for him as he knelt on the bed and fucked into you.

Again and again, he told you he loved you in between grunts. It was unusual for him to be this expressive, to speak this much, but having you there for him, waiting, worrying for him and letting him do as he wished with you as soon as his eyes laid on you, it made him malfunction, made him let go in a way he'd never been allowed to before.

"Thank you for coming home." you sighed as you came, dragging him straight down with you.

"I always will." he repeated your earlier words, arm extended out so you could cuddle yourself under it.

Andrew felt at ease while he laid there with you.

Smurf was in jail, the Cath thing was out of the bag, he still wasn't sure if he could trust J, wasn't sure what would happen with Lena now that Baz was supposed to leave town. But at that moment, he laid with you there, sure of one thing — you were his to keep.

The following day he'd find out about what happened to Baz, a brand new can of worms breaking into the very short moment of peace he had while he had you in his arms. The next day, he'd have to go back to dealing with Smurf, to figure out how to take care of Lena, but at least now he had someone to carry some of the brunt with him.

➽──────────────────❥

note: sorry this was so long!!! its supposed to take up all of season two lol. ill try and do one for the next few seasons too!!

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pittrabbit · 11 days ago

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Something something, Jack Abbot taking Viagra because he’s getting insecure about being an older man and keeping up with his younger gf and fulfilling her needs even though he does that without issue and you never have any complaints, but the mix of his SSRIs and everything else in his mental fucks him over sometimes.

So he decides to take the little blue pill anyway as a boost and he thinks it’ll help him out but really it drives him fucking crazy and his skin feels itchy and he can feel his pulse in his dick and he thinks he might die if he doesn’t get to fuck you the way he needs. But oh, you’re so caring, so considerate, so loving that you let him have his way with you to get it out of his system, even if you’re a little mad at him for taking the damn pill in the first place knowing it’ll set his nervous system to the brink. Oh well, at least you’re getting fucked into the mattress until your pussy goes numb, that’s gotta count for something.

#i could read 50k words on insecure jack abbot who sneaks in a little pill and goes crazy on reader #amazing #jack abbot

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pittrabbit · 11 days ago

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bad influence

animal kingdom fix it fic series — (finished)

content: 18+, andrew cody x reader, fix it fic series for seasons 2 to 6 of animal kingdom, reader is meant to be 25-30, reader is deran's friend, mostly canon compliant, A LOT of world building, reader occasionally takes place for a few pre-existing characters, frequent switch of povs, dark themes, show-compliant crimes, death, murder, allusions to cheating, jealousy, physical violence, afab reader, reader is mentioned to have hair a few times, SPOILERS for seasons 1-6 of animal kingdom, uses transcripts of dialogue from the show, smut, oral (both f and m), shower sex, p in v sex, softdom!andrew, sub!andrew, dry humping, thigh-riding, mentions of future pregnancy, etc etc etc.

summary: andrew had always been known as the fixer of problems, the one guy his family always called to remedy any situation that was just too much for the average person to handle. he'd never expected much of life, settled with the misery that he'd been struck with from the moment he'd been born into the cody family. things only begin turning around for him once he meets you, a well-kept secret of deran's who'd suddenly been thrust into andrew's life.

(in other words, a fix-it fic for animal kingdom in which andrew finally gets his happy ending!!)

total word count: 85.3k

chapters:

selfless — season 2

house of cards — season 3

on my own — season 4

self-destruct — season 5

heaven — season 6

#prev tags #thank u so much!!!#i majored in pope cody i love him

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pittrabbit · 11 days ago

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quitting time - jack abbot x reader

Summary: You want your husband Jack to knock you up, but that means it's finally time for the both of you to quit smoking. He comes up with an unconventional way of helping your withdrawal.

Tags/Notes: jack abbot x reader, fluff & smut, afab & fem reader (called 'mrs. abbot), married abbot/reader, established relationship, impregnation, oral sex (m receiving), piv (obviously), creampie (obviously), sex at work

Content: cigarettes/smoking, pregnancy discussion

A/N: this started as like a "dom abbot uses throat training to get you to quit cigarettes" but i fear i want him in a very soft way atm

Word Count: 4.9k

It’s just about midnight when Jack returns home. You've both been on day shifts ever since you got married, but he had to pull a double tonight after a highway pileup. The house is dark, but there’s a dim warm light filtering from under the bedroom door. After putting his things away exactly where they’re meant to go, he climbs the stairs stiffly. It’s been one hell of a long day and, honestly, most of the reason he bothers anymore is this: Coming home to you. This house he built for you that you’ve made a home, adding in the details that soften his rough edges.

Inside the bedroom, you’re on his side of the bed, wearing his shirt, absently watching his favorite show on the TV across from the bed.

Holding back a private smile, Jack leans down, kisses your forehead, and tilts your face up with his thumb and forefinger. “What are you still doing up, honey? Can’t sleep?”

You reach up and tug him closer by those silvering curls at the nape of his neck. If it weren’t for his work clothes still on, you’d drag him into bed right then and there and never let go. But Jack’s a neat freak, and that’s something you’ve come to appreciate over time, so you leave it at the one kiss and tell him, “You know I can’t sleep without you here.”

He chuckles and gestures to your setup that absolutely reeks of missing your husband. “Seems like you’re doing a pretty good job recreating my presence.”

“Nothing’s as good as the real thing.”

Tucking your hair back behind your ear, he says, “Don’t worry, love, I just gotta change and then I’m all yours.”

You watch with hungry eyes as he strips. It just never gets old watching him reach behind his head to tug off his shirt, revealing the strong back muscles he uses to save lives all day. He’s still freckled from the long weekend you took out to the shore; you’re the reason he actually takes his vacation days.

When he’s down to his boxers, Jack sits back on the bed. You take that as your cue to get up and kneel in front of him. Jack’s never once asked you to help take off his prosthetic, but, somehow, through the years, you both know that you’re going to do it every night. You release the lock and unfasten it, roll down the liner and sock, and carefully wiggle the foot to release it from his residual limb.

Setting his prosthetic aside, you finish pulling off the liner and sock, picking them up for cleaning. As you head over to the adjoining bathroom, Jack sighs, “You don’t have to clean-”

You cut him off, “Which anniversary do you start letting me take care of you without complaining?” With a little smile you can’t contain, you do your usual routine of cleaning the gel liner and call over your shoulder, “Is that year five?”

Jack snickers, “No, no, five is wood.”

You place the drying liner on the countertop on a clean towel and return to the bedroom, this time with a warm soapy washcloth. Jack’s tugged on a pair of much sexier gray boxer briefs. If you didn’t have a mission, you’d be mouthing over his bulge the second you’re on your knees again. You rub the washcloth over what’s left of his knee, checking over his skin for good measure. You might not be the doctor, but you’re the person in this relationship who cares about his health.

When you’re satisfied that he’s set, you make a point of letting your hand linger, gently working over his legs. At last, it’s time for you to sheepishly admit, “I’m actually up because I have something to ask you about. I was, um, hoping you'd give me something.”

He groans out in relief as you massage his residual limb. You’re the only partner he’s ever allowed to touch him like this after his first wife and it’s heaven on earth. You could ask him for just about anything in these moments and he’d give it to you. “What is it, darling? You know I’d find a way to get you the moon if you asked.”

“Nothing crazy.” You rest your cheek on his thigh and gaze up at him through long lashes. His hand goes into your hair, the touch easy and familiar as he looks down at you. You can’t get enough of his end-of-day scruff. Dragging the words out, you tell him, “I was just thinking it’s about time you give me a baby.”

The biggest, dopiest smile breaks across his lips. His eyes crinkle up at the corners. You’re busy memorizing that expression, etching it into your brain, when he leans over to snatch you up into his lap. In one smooth motion, he flips you onto your back and kisses you. You never feel safer than when you’re between his arms, pinned down his body, exactly where you’re supposed to be.

When he’s done covering you in kisses that make you giggle, he gives you a knowing look. “That’s why you were so cagey about seeing your OBGYN today, isn’t it? I should’ve known better; you’d never schedule an appointment without me there if it weren’t for something sneaky.”

You lock your legs around his hips and laugh. “You know, I thought about taking a picture of the IUD when it was out to make that gross medical part of your brain tick.”

Then he gives you a concerned look, eyebrows pinching together protectively. “You had it removed already? Sweetheart, you know I would’ve held your hand if-”

“And ruin my surprise?” You shake your head and laugh, “It was worth it to see that look on your face.”

Then he’s smiling again, now with a sort of hazy disbelief that looks almost like he’s gonna cry. He nuzzles kisses into your neck. “God, we’re gonna have a baby.”

“Probably a few, actually.” You give him a serious look and reason, “Only children are always weirdos.”

“I’m an only child.”

“I know.”

“Careful, doll, or I’ll-” A realization dawns on his face and his lips pull into a tight, flat line. It was inevitable. You’ve talked about it a hundred times and now it’s real. He falls onto his side and tugs you close. “The thing is, though, if you’re going to get pregnant, then…” he murmurs, leaving the sentence open-ended, his gaze going right through you.

Pouting, you nestle into the crook of his shoulder, away from his intense eyes, and sigh, “I know. It’s gonna suck.”

“It’ll be worth it, though,” he soothes, rubbing your back. “We’ll quit together, alright? I don’t want my little Abbots growing up worried about their old man getting lung cancer, either.”

Pulling back to give him a playful glare, you ask, “Promise you won’t start again as soon as I’m knocked up?”

“I’m serious about this,” he assures you with that tight military nod that means he’s giving something everything he’s got. His eyes soften as he tucks your head under his chin, holding you as close as he can. “I thought I’d missed the boat on being a dad, but then you walk into my life and, all of a sudden, I’ve got a future again.”

There are some things that are incredibly hard about being married to a widower – it’s a never-ending grief, really, a constant presence in your marriage – but one thing that makes it all easier is the gratitude you both have. The loss has made him fiercely protective and you know he’ll be a better father for it. You’d worried it would always feel like you were competing with someone who wasn’t here, but it’s more like there’s twice the love. He knows to love fully now, to never waste a moment, to hold on close. And you’ve learned to be your full self, to accept his gratitude for you, to be present with him.

Having a family with Jack was never even a question. The first time you saw him holding Robby’s baby boy – still pretending you weren’t dating while watching Jack from across the ED – it was over for you. The way his smile took over his eyes, the way his forearms looked sturdy and safe cradling that little life, the way his softness met his strength. You were barely together at that point, maybe a month in, and you were already picturing how much happier he’d be when it was his own.

The idea of him being the one to support you through being pregnant and him holding a newborn and him teaching a chubby toddler to walk and him being a father. You didn’t know yet if you’d be a good mom – in fact, you’re pretty sure you’ll mess it up every day – but Jack being by your side makes it feel possible.

So you kiss the tip of his nose and smile. “We’re going to have the best future ever.” Then you sit up, push him onto his back, and straddle him with mischief written all over your face. “And you get to cum inside of me whenever you want for the foreseeable future.”

Jack groans and grabs at your now rolling hips. “Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

Frankly, if you hadn’t been a smoker, you wouldn’t be in Jack’s bed talking about having his babies a few years after starting at PTMC. Isn’t that ironic? It’s not like you’re a doctor, so you don’t get nearly as much crap as Jack does from his coworkers, but you were still the only two smokers on the night shift. Which you discovered about a week in when the two of you finished your shift at the same time and he caught you digging around in your purse, balancing a cigarette between your fingers, and offered you his lighter. That’s how it all started.

The first night, he hung out with you even though he was a big bad attending and you were even lower on the food chain than the students as a desk girl. Since you mostly fielded calls and fetched files, nobody took you seriously. Most of the time, even the nurses just barked orders at you, having you grab coffees and handle data entry. For the most part, you didn’t mind. The job came with benefits and a salary, better than someone with no advanced education would usually find, and you knew you were supporting people who did the most important thing in the world. Still, you felt invisible, not invited to the group breakfasts or late-night drinks. Not really a member of the team but someone right on the border.

Then came Jack.

He treated you as his equal, no matter what. He listened to your opinions and never talked down to you despite your significant age difference and his decade of education above you. Even when he dropped off his charts at the end of his shift, dark circles around his eyes and hands rough from constant sanitizing, he made a point of stopping to smile and ask about your day.

After a few weeks, you began to notice his smoke breaks overlapping with yours, which was particularly strange since you always took your breaks at the same time while his were determined mostly by whether he was elbows deep in blood or not. It meant he was watching you very, very closely and managing everything in the ED around timing things exactly right so he could have just a few minutes with you

Those were the best parts of your night, always. You got used to heading across the parking lot to a bench on the little stretch of grass that surrounded the hospital, sort of like a park where patients’ families walked around to clear their heads. Most nights, only a minute or two after you’d sat down, Jack’s silhouette would appear next to you, ringed by light, and he’d ask in that gruff way he always did, “Want some company?”

And you’d say, “Only if it’s you.”

He was so easy to talk to. From day one, everyone in the ED told you to watch out for him, how he stared and muttered and peacocked and was held together by misanthropy and fraying duct tape. But not with you. Never with you. Sometimes, you’d see him chewing out a resident, looking absolutely ready to strangle them, only for his entire body to relax when you tapped him on the shoulder for a note about a chart or to hand off his next coffee. When you’d accidentally make eye contact across the Pitt, his face softened into something almost boyishly innocent.

From the beginning, it seemed like you had special access to a side of him that nobody else could see. Smoke breaks turned into walks home. Walks home turned to grabbing breakfast together. Breakfast turned to hours of conversation until you were both too exhausted to keep talking. At some point, he’d started showing up to walk you to work, not just back, which meant he walked fifteen minutes out of his way first. Just to stop you from walking alone at night. To keep you safe. When Dana had asked how you could stand spending so much time with someone so, as she put it, curmudgeonly, you just told her the truth: You understood each other.

When Jack said he loved you for the first time, it was simple. Frank. Like him. One of those countless nights where you sat on that same cast iron bench, you broached the topic the two of you had been dancing around. Like it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world, you asked why he’d started taking his smoke breaks with you months ago, why he went out of his way for you when he was already bogged down by emergencies, why he lingered to walk you home even though you lived in the opposite direction.

And he’d taken a long drag from your shared cigarette, he shrugged, looked straight forward, and said, “I’m in love with you. My mom raised me to treat my girl like she’s made of gold.”

You cut him a sideways glance as a smile threatened at your lips. “Your girl, huh?”

Then he looked at you and the vulnerability in his eyes seared into your skin. You’d never seen him looking so innocent. Like he really thought you might reject him outright despite the depth that had been building consistently between you. His voice had no edge of confidence, no cockiness, no expectations. He was just Jack. “If you’ll have me.”

You answered him with a smoky kiss. You moved in with him two weeks later and there was a ring on your finger before the year was up. You still don’t know how you got so lucky – shacking up with a handsome doctor, as your family so eloquently put it upon meeting him – but all that matters is that you did.

Both of you had tried and failed to quit smoking more times than you could count. Each of you picked up the habit as teenagers; smoking had become part of your routine. And, much as you wanted to be good influences on each other, it seemed like the one thing you couldn’t get over together, pushing back the deadlines of your attempts. We should quit before I meet your parents. We should quit before the wedding. We should quit before we buy the house. But, all along, you’d both known only one thing would really kick your ass into doing it.

By your first break of the next shift after a successful day off together at home, you’re absolutely jonesing. Shaky hands, foggy brain, hungry like you’ve never been before. Everyone can tell because you’re snapping at people and then vehemently apologizing, explaining that you're trying to quit to get sympathy. It’s bad enough that Dana touches your lower back and says, “Why don’t you take your break a little early? Go grab something to eat.”

Of course, Jack notices. When it comes to you, he always notices. He’s been hyper-attuned to you all day, even more than usual. He’s wrapping up supervising a rough laceration when he sees you snatch up your purse and huff over to the lounge like you’re scanning for someone to kill. He follows you at a close distance, watching as you grab your plastic tub of snacks with a wicked scowl on your soft lips.

Instead of sitting down at the nearby table or dodging back outside like you usually do, you shove into the staff bathroom. He swears there are tears in your eyes as the door slams behind you. That’s his cue for sure.

After striding across the lounge, he raps on the door a couple times and offers with a low voice, “Mrs. Abbot? It’s me.” After a moment, the lock clicks and he pushes it open, slipping inside with you. He finds you sitting on the floor clutching your container with white knuckles in one hand, a half-finished carrot stick in the other. After perching himself on the countertop, with a nod and a pursed lip, he observes, “Eating carrots alone on the bathroom floor. That’s a new one.”

Glaring, you reply, “It’s these stupid withdrawals. I read online that carrot sticks can help because smoking is a part of my oral fixation issue or whatever.”

He laughs and crosses his arms over his chest. “‘Read online’? You know you’re married to a doctor, right?”

“A judgy doctor,” you pout. “Look at you; you’re doing fine and I’m over here falling apart.”

He raises his eyebrows and, with one finger, beckons for you to stand up. You frown but get to your feet anyway, setting your food aside on the counter. Jack tugs you close and rests his hands on your hips. “If it helps, I’m definitely not fine. I’ve just spent a few decades learning to steady my hands and function when I’m absolutely wrecked. But, I promise, I’m absolutely starving and scatter-brained and pissed off and, Christ, I’m so horny I can’t think. Apparently smoking was really suppressing my libido. Trust me, babe: You’re not alone here.”

With a sigh, you rest your head on his chest. “You sure we can’t scrap this whole ‘quitting’ nonsense?”

After kissing the top of your head and wrapping his arms around you, Jack says, “Think about how it’s all going to be worth it.” He drops his hand to your stomach and reminds you, “Soon, you won’t even be thinking about smoking because you’ll be so focused on growing our little person.”

You grumble out, like it makes any sense, “Yeah, but, for now, I’m not even pregnant, so it sucks.”

Jack grins and lets his fingers ride up under your shirt to the sensitive skin beneath. “That’s a very easy problem for me to fix.”

His mouth goes to your neck and you whimper right away; he’s always had way too strong an effect on you. You lean down to encourage him to kiss you properly and he does without complaint. Your lips part and he claims the space between them. After so long, he still knows how to steal your focus and your breath with a kiss. When his hands drop to your waist to grip hard, turning both of you around and pressing you against the counter, your breath hitches in your throat.

“Actually,” Jack starts, more growling than speaking, “I’ve got an idea for something that might help us both. You know, like you said, cigarettes are an oral fixation, so-” Your eyes begin to sparkle with mischief as he goes on “-I figured that, whenever you’re jonesing really bad, you could find me and we could-”

You’re already dropping to your knees, fingers greedy at his zipper.

He chuckles, “I see you’ve figured out what I’m getting at.”

When you take out his cock and immediately take it deep into your mouth, he draws in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Fuck, you’re eager. Perfect.”

You hum contentedly, settle into your knees, and focus on the feeling of his length dragging over your lips and tongue. The weight and smoothness shuts something off in your brain. Something that desperately needed to quiet down. Jack’s fingers thread through your hair and your eyes flutter shut as you let him take control. The barely controlled grunt at the base of his throat has heat pulsing in your core. His hands find each other on the back of your head as he fucks into your mouth, never pushing past what he knows you can handle. He knows you better than the back of his hand.

Jack’s voice is rough and commanding: “Touch yourself for me.”

Your brain’s absolutely buzzing with satisfaction as your hand slips down beneath the waistband of your bottoms. Your middle two fingers part your folds, collecting your wetness, and rub circles around your clit. Arching your back to get better access, you moan around Jack’s cock and take him deeper. As deep as you can. Your eyes begin to water and sting.

Gravelly and wanting as he holds the back of your head, Jack tsks quietly, “Careful. Don’t ruin your mascara at work, honey.”

You reluctantly ease up, focusing on using your tongue and your suction instead of gagging yourself like you would at home. When you flick the tip of your tongue under the head of his cock and use your free hand to work his shaft, Jack leans his head back, grips the counter behind himself, and rolls his hips in the most delicious way.

Right before he begins to tense, though, Jack tugs you off of him by the hair and gasps like he can’t believe he’s actually stopping you from sucking him dry. At your whiny little sound, he rasps out, “I know it’s been a while since my basic human physiology class, but I'm pretty sure swallowing won't get you pregnant.”

You give a hazy, lust-filled laugh as he helps you to your feet. Like you haven’t done this a hundred times, you bat your eyelashes and tease, “Right here in your emergency department, Doctor Abbot?”

You start to bend over the counter like you have before, ready to prop yourself up on your elbows and have your clothes yanked down, but he catches your shoulder. Jack gives you a look both tender and stern, his pupils dark and overtaking his hazels. Almost begging, he says, “I need to look at you.”

“Such a sap,” you reply, soft and sweet, as you shimmy out of your bottoms and hop up on the counter, scooting forward so your ass is on the very edge. Wrapping your legs around Jack, you yank him forward and kiss him hard.

He gasps when his cock brushes against your bare, wet folds. His eyes close and he glides his shaft along your clit, just collecting the wetness and sliding over your pussy before letting himself give in. He groans against your ear, “Oh, love. So fucking wet for me. What are you thinking about right now?”

You’re whiny and needy and holding onto him for dear life, hands going to his hips to encourage him forward. Your cunt is pulsing with the need for him, hot and aching and tingling like you’ve never felt in your life. So, barely able to breathe with how badly you want him, you just admit honestly, “Thinking about- about making you a dad. About having your baby.”

Jack sinks inside of you at last, nuzzling his lips into your neck as he fills you exactly the way you always need. “That’s all I want.”

You feel something shifting inside of him as he pulls back only slightly to look at you. He presses your foreheads together and his eye contact is searing. It’s one of the things that’s always drawn you to him; he looks at you like he’s seeing right into your brain. Like he can read every word you’re thinking. As one of his hands goes to the small of your back and the other cups your cheek, you swear you can see tears brimming at his waterline.

Twining your fingers in the silver curls at the nape of his neck, you slow the pace of your hips, kiss his cheek, and check in, “Are you okay, Jackie?”

He nods hard and swallows thickly, giving you a short chuckle as he grips your hips hard to fuck you deeper. “I’m fucking fantastic, Mrs. Abbot.”

“You look like you’re going to cry.”

“Jesus, I just might.” Jack laughs and pushes you back slightly so he’s more mounting you like an animal than standing upright. His hips drill down into yours and you’re seeing stars from how deep he is. He trails kisses along your pulse and, in between, tells you, “You’ve got no idea how much I love you. The idea that you want to have my- Fuck. God, you’re so good.” He draws in a sharp breath as his hips stutter slighty. Slowing his pace to keep himself off the edge, he drops his hand between your bodies and begins to drive his thumb over your clit. His breath is hot against your ear as he groans out, “I love you so much. Wanna get you pregnant over and over.”

“Jesus, Jack, keep- keep talking just like that. Just like that.”

“Yeah?” His smirk is all self-satisfied mischief. He’s keeping his voice breathy and low, barely audible, but the rumble of it is unmistakable and erotic. As he works your clit and wrecks your pussy with deep, controlled thrusts that keep you stuffed full, Jack goes on, “Gonna knock you up and keep you that way as long as I can. Give you a whole mess of kids. You’ll be so perfect – so goddamn gorgeous – carrying my babies. I’m gonna worship the ground you walk on forever for giving me a family.”

Your moans go high and desperate and you’re biting down on your own hand to stop yourself from getting too loud as his thrusts reach a fever pitch. Sweat’s beading on both your foreheads and the whole world is narrowing in on his hazel eyes, locked on you, demanding to be yours.

Jack touches your chin, forcing eye contact, and orders, “Sweetheart, I need you to cum for me. Need you to give me everything so I can knock you up. Need to feel you clenching down on me and-”

You’re finished before he’s even done the sentence. The orgasm rips through you hard and fast. Your thighs clamp around Jack’s hips and you lose your balance on the counter, but Jack is right there to keep you safe. Like he always is. His arm is around your ass and he’s shoving you back against the mirror to fuck you through your orgasm and into overstimulation.

“That’s my girl,” Jack grunts as he bottoms out inside of you and spills over, keeping his hips locked to yours, nice and deep. His warmth coats your walls and you feel him shiver with pleasure. “Better fucking take.”

Eyes closed contentedly, you listen to his shuddering, heavy breaths as he softens inside of you. When Jack pulls out, he immediately shoves his two middle fingers back in, fingering his cum against your cervix as you whine his name from the intensity of it all. Finally, he puts those wet fingers against your lips and you take them effortlessly and greedily into your mouth, tasting the uniquely bitter taste of you both on the salt of his digits.

Jack zips himself up and then carefully tugs your underwear and bottoms back up, smoothing out your hair and clothes before kissing you with breathtaking fondness. He smirks in a way that makes him devilishly handsome and asks, “Still want a cigarette?”

You give him another quick peck. “What’s a cigarette?”

“I’ve got no idea.” Against your lips, he grins stupidly. “Only addiction I have is my baby’s mama.”

Your watch beeps, signaling the end of your break, and you sigh against Jack’s chest. “See you soon, doctor.”

He kisses the top of your head. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Not possible.”

Shaking off his smile, Jack opens up the door and glances out before opening it wide enough to let you out, too. The lounge is empty save Robby sitting at the table nursing a coffee at the very end of his shift. He raises a knowing eyebrow at the two of you and your cheeks flame red. Shaking his head, he tuts, “If you weren’t trying to give my kid a cousin in there, I’m going to have to report you.”

Jack barks out a laugh and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, brother, no need to call Gloria. Give us nine months.”

You bury your burning face in your hands and squeak out, “I’m going to kill you both.”

Robby’s mouth opens, mock-offended, and he clutches his hand over his heart. “And leave your presumably brand new zygote without a strong male role model in his life?”

Positively pink, feeling Jack’s cum seeping through your panties, you cut back, “I think I’ll look into my other options. Whitaker, maybe. He’d be a good second husband, eager to please. And Frank would make cute babies. I’ve got alternatives available.”

Jack scoffs and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on the crook of your neck. “No, c’mon, you need a man who can throw you over his shoulder in an emergency.”

You roll your eyes and nudge him. “And when was the last time you did that, grandpa?”

Of course, the ribbing makes Jack loop his arm around your waist and begin hoisting you off your feet. He only puts you down when you shriek, “Okay, okay! You can both live!”

#this was so!!!!!#let me make him a dad PLEASE #theyre so in love in this i love it i love love #jack abbot #fic recs

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pittrabbit · 13 days ago

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this one is like… if andrew found a mermaid ♡

#this is perfect #i need this #if anyone deserves a mermaid its andrew

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pittrabbit · 15 days ago

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omahsjs thank u so much for reading!!!!!

bad influence

animal kingdom fix it fic series — (finished)

(in other words, a fix-it fic for animal kingdom in which andrew finally gets his happy ending!!)

total word count: 85.3k

chapters:

selfless — season 2

house of cards — season 3

on my own — season 4

self-destruct — season 5

heaven — season 6

190 notes · View notes

pittrabbit · 15 days ago

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i was left with such a huge void i had to rewatch the whole thing just to write this 😭 hope u enjoy it once u read it!!!

bad influence

animal kingdom fix it fic series — (finished)

(in other words, a fix-it fic for animal kingdom in which andrew finally gets his happy ending!!)

total word count: 85.3k

chapters:

selfless — season 2

house of cards — season 3

on my own — season 4

self-destruct — season 5

heaven — season 6

190 notes · View notes

pittrabbit · 15 days ago

Text

bad influence

animal kingdom fix it fic series — (finished)

(in other words, a fix-it fic for animal kingdom in which andrew finally gets his happy ending!!)

total word count: 85.3k

chapters:

selfless — season 2

house of cards — season 3

on my own — season 4

self-destruct — season 5

heaven — season 6

#srb #now that its all complete!!!#finishing it gave me such peace of mind MANNN

190 notes · View notes

pittrabbit · 15 days ago

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heaven.

content: andrew cody x reader, fix it fic for season six of animal kingdom, reader is meant to be 25-30, reader is deran's friend, mostly canon compliant, A LOT of world building, reader occasionally takes place for a few pre-existing characters, frequent switch of povs, dark themes, show-compliant crimes, SPOILERS for seasons 1-6 of animal kingdom, uses transcripts of dialogue from the show, one single and unfortunate use of Y/N (it was unavoidable), mentions of future pregnancy, fatal injuries, fire, smut, p in v sex, thigh riding, angst but a lot of fluff towards the end, etc etc etc.

summary: old, buried secrets are suddenly uncovered and now andrew's in danger once more. everything in the cody family begins bursts into flames all at once and andrew's taken away from you once again. you're defeated in thinking if you'll ever get him back this time around.

word count: 23.7k

note: sorry if this is super long and turns corny towards the end lmaoooo i needed to give andrew his happy ending and this project was always meant as a self-indulgent thing but i still hope those of u who read it enjoyed!!

series masterlist

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It had been J's idea.

Every Cody boy would get one of the new plots of land he'd bought with the leftover money from selling Smurf's properties.

It'd been agreed upon a little after you and Andrew came back from the desert. Something about a new start, a new way to run things now that Smurf was no longer in the picture. An easier, less suspicious way to launder their money.

Andrew was unsure of what to do with his plot of land. J had his bowling alley, Deran already had his bar, and Craig had decided on the obvious choice of making his into a gym. Andrew was the one remaining member of the family who was unsure of which direction to go in. J kept pushing at him, wanting to move on with things, to continue building their name now that Smurf was gone, but pressure never worked too well with Andrew.

Andrew always needed a little extra time to think things through. It was how his brain had always functioned.

Since your return from the desert a few months ago, Andrew had grown calmer, and the guys responded to that. Things were less chaotic between them, with not many fights taking place as they all supported each other's endeavors, working together in the occasional job in the meantime.

Andrew started smoking weed as of late, which seemed to calm him down. This aided in his relationship with his brothers, with J. And you enjoyed the calm, relieved the family meetings didn't follow their previous pattern of ending with an argument.

It didn't take too long for Andrew to decide he'd forego a business, ignoring any of J's suggestions when it came to ideas for what lucrative plan he could come up for his lot. Instead, he decided to build a skatepark. No lucrative means attached to it. He'd let strays in, build the place the old-fashioned way and keep it open for local skaters to use free of charge.

You'd go hang there after work. You'd watch Andrew as he built it with some other guy he'd hired, offer him some cold water, wipe his sweat, make him squirm when you'd catcall him and when his new friend Auge would make fun of him for it.

Andrew had insisted on getting you a car of your own, pushing for weeks until one day you suddenly walked out of work, expecting to take the bus but suddenly finding him standing there with a brand new car, keys at hand before they were handed off to you. This meant you could freely go see him at the skate park whenever you wished to, which was where he spent most of his time while you were at work.

Ever since Andrew had thrown that question at you, the one he'd rasped out as he hovered over you in bed, he'd become more attached to you, more protective than he'd ever been (which was saying a lot). Things didn't change much further than that, except you guys were now mostly residing in your shared apartment rather than in the Cody house. Really, as of late, it was mostly just J who stayed there.

It was only two weeks that you lasted without an actual ring on your finger, eventually receiving one during one of the many dates Andrew had insisted on taking you after he'd first popped the question. He'd never taken you on one before, he'd realized, but he became quite insistent in doing so after taking your relationship to this next level. They'd been a bit awkward at first, despite the years in which you'd been together. Andrew was new at this, which couldn't not endear you as he fumbled his way through whatever his version of dating was (which you enjoyed all the same).

The ring hadn't been stolen, but purchased at an actual jewelry store. Andrew had been quite adamant in you knowing that when he gave it to you, eyes downcast and an insecure demeanor accompanied by the exchange. But that suddenly turned around when your ecstatic reaction forced a surprised ghost of a smile on his face.

Things were going well for Andrew. For the first time, it seemed as if life was turning around, morphing into something he'd never even given himself the space to fantasize about.

Being engaged was something he never once imagined. He'd told you as much only a few days after his impromptu proposal. Marriage was much less something he ever expected. He hadn't known how badly he'd wanted it until the option was presented to him — until you showed up as a consistent presence in his life.

It made you sad to hear this, but a sense of relief also washed over you at knowing you made as much a difference in his life as he did in yours.

Days were spent in a routinary fashion as of late, almost earning Andrew a sense of normalcy you knew he'd never had the privilege of experiencing. He'd always lived in fear. Maybe not of someone, but of the turmoil that'd continue to follow him day after day.

But lately that turmoil hadn't been present in his life. He'd tell you as much every night he tucked you into bed, sliding next to you and holding you against him as a lifeline. You'd wake up in the same position most days, with the movement of Andrew's chest felt at your back and with his face buried in the crook of your neck, deep puffs of air landing against your skin as he allowed himself a healthy amount of sleep for the first time in his life.

You'd been the common denominator to it all, he'd always tell you. At first he was shy about it, but then he became insistent at it, needing you to know about the effect you had in his life.

And though it was strange to be thanked for your presence in his life, for caring for him (something so effortless and out of your control), you still took it all in, returning the sentiment, enjoying the way in which he'd look away, unsure to take credit, but forced to as you insisted, kissed your way into making him submit to your affections.

It was unusual of him to start anything between you in bed, but after the desert, he'd become more forward, affectionate and touchy in ways he'd never been before. You never complained, happy he felt at ease to do with you as he pleased.

"It's late. You wanna?" you murmured when kisses started trailing down your neck, reaching a stop at your collarbone.

Laid in bed, you curled against him. Naturally, without meaning to, you always would. He did the same, shaping himself perfectly so you'd fit snuggly in his arms, lips digging until they found the skin of your neck, stubble scratchy and delicious against your skin.

"Is it okay?" he asked, halting, but not disconnecting from you.

"It's always okay." and with that, you turned to him, engaging his lips with your own.

Every night he'd make his way into bed with you, would put his hands on you, liberal in the way he touched you. It was new, this lack of hesitancy, but you easily grew used to it. It wasn't as if he didn't seek you out before, but he'd been less doubtful about it as of late.

And when he came home too late to find you awake, he'd just lay next to you. You always encouraged him the following morning, told him he could do whatever he wanted even if you weren't fully there by the time he found himself in your shared bed. He'd stammer, look away, but you could always see something in his eye that told you he wanted it too.

But for now, you'd wait. You'd let him have you while awake, waiting for the day in which you enticed him enough to do with you as he pleased while you were deep in slumber, have you wake up to his hands on you, him inside you.

He continued kissing you, bringing you close, molding his body into yours as if he just couldn't get you close enough. Needy, he sighed your name against your lips, gripped the meat of your thighs, groaned every time you'd pull at his hair and bite his lip.

Rolling you to your back, he placed himself halfway atop you, none of his weight on you. Hovering over you, he licked into your mouth, needy, greedy. And you gave yourself to him, naturally following his every move, your body and his in a synchronized dance you'd grown fond of.

You were always the needier one out of the two of you, always pulling him just a little bit closer, begging against his lips and making him choke in an intake of breath. But today he responded to your neediness, almost as if competing against you. He'd been like this as of late, unashamed in needing you and making sure you knew about it.

"Wanna fuck me?" you mumbled against his lips.

He nodded, lips refusing to part from yours, hands attempting to mold against every inch of skin they came into contact with.

"Can I?" and he always asked. Unnecessary, but it always made you swoon.

"Please."

When he was about to roll fully on top of you, your hands pressed on his shoulders, softly pushing him back and making him halt his movements.

"Can I be on top?" it was whispered, as words always were in your shared bed. It was mumbled between lips, a lick accompanying every few words.

"Yeah ... Shit, yeah."

Now with your thighs straddling his, you leaned down, kissing at his chest, nibbling here and there, licking up his pec and circling his nipple. There, you took turns while your nails softly scratched down his abdomen. It was a sensitive area for him, you knew. Always loved the soft red lines that'd leave their mark there for the following days.

Between you, your hand fished for his hardness, slow in wrapping around his base and slowly beginning to jerk him off. Every sigh of pleasure from his lips was swallowed by yours. And every quiet encouragement for more was licked into your lips.

"That feel good?" you whispered against him, lips trailing down to his ear, licking its shell, earning a shiver from him.

"Yes." he sighed. "Don't stop."

"Want more?"

He nodded, head digging into the mattress beneath him, hands gripping at the sheets, moving from your hips when the pleasure began building up, unwilling to bruise you with his strength.

"Yeah? Want me to ride you, baby?"

Every word was whispered, each one with a slight tilt of patronization that both frustrated him and made that pit in his stomach burn with desire. His hips matched the rhythm of your hand, desperate for more, begging for something tighter, warmer, wetter to wrap around him.

But he didn't have to beg for long. All it took was a few more whimpers, for his desperate eyes to look into yours and for his lips to seek your own for you to finally take pity on him and press your naked cunt against his dick. Once there, you tortured him some more, running his tip up and down your wetness, circling it around your clit and causing the two of your to cry in tandem.

When you lowered yourself onto him, you couldn't help the whimper escaping your lips. Your body shuddered, back bowing on top of him and fingers digging into his toned chest. His hands finally found your hips, gripping the fat there and holding you down against him, rendering you unable to move.

Trying to grind, bounce, do anything was completely futile. Andrew's brusque strength was too much for you to do anything other than take his size, his girth, and torture yourself as you laid still on top of him.

"Andrew ... I wanna- Please-"

"Just- Give me a second." he gritted, teeth bared. His eyebrows lifted, face taking on a look of shock, barely able to take in the tightness you surrounded him with. "Wanna last for you."

That only made you tighten. You weren't sure why. Having him so perfect under you, so affected when you were just existing around him, it broke your brain. He had the same effect on you, he just had a harder time realizing it.

Still, you shook your head petulantly. You didn't care if he came. Didn't give a shit if he filled you up after just one bounce. You'd use him past his limits. You had done so before, and you'd do it again. He'd let you. He'd whimper and writhe under you, but he'd moan and cry your name all the same.

But there was no need for that this time around. Instead, he took pity on you. Using his brute strength, he began moving you on top of him. It was so easy for him, requiring minimal effort as he matched your movements to the thrusting of his hips. He pistoned at you from below, making your boobs bounce with every move.

It was too much. You weren't fully there. You usually weren't when he'd use you like this. It mostly became a mess of slapping skin and gasps of each other's name with the occasional expletive thrown in there.

"That good?" he grunted. "You feel so- You're perfect." the words barely made it all the way out of his lips. But it was fine. You leaned down to kiss them away.

Tongues swirled together, unable to engage in a kiss anything but deprived as you bounced on him. He guided the grinding of your hips and sucked at your tongue.

Dizzy, completely out of it, you cried his name, a silent warning for your impending high.

He always managed this. He'd flip things over on you. No matter how needy and wanting of you he was, he always managed to have you be the panting mess by the end of it all. Your needs were prioritized, your orgasm always first.

Once you deflated atop him, he kept fucking up into you, groaning into your ear when his orgasm finally took him under. His body tensed under yours as he filled you up, hands kneading at your ass after the fact, unable to pull you away from him, silently wanting to keep you full for as long as he could.

"I think you fucked me sleepy." you mumbled, cheek pressed to his chest. His arms were wrapped around you, pulling your entire chest on him. It comforted him, he'd say.

"Want me to clean you up?"

"In a minute. Too comfy. You're too comfy, I hate you." you gave him lip, but still kissed his cheek, mumbling soft words up until you became too sleepy to continue.

He gave you a few minutes before he dragged your tired form to the connected restroom, helping you to the toilet so you'd pee, putting a fresh pair of panties on you, tucking you in beside him before turning off the lights and tugging you back into his hold.

➽──────────────────❥

But things couldn't ever remain good for too long.

It'd been a good few months of domestic bliss between you and Andrew. A life in which you worked around each other, comfortable and content.

The length of the engagement was never discussed, but Andrew didn't mind it. You were already married as far as he was concerned. You were his, and he was yours, and he didn't need care much for a legal document stating so. But part of him also wanted to experience that part of life with you. Wanted to see you in that white dress, to have Deran walk you down the aisle just before you kissed him in front of all your loved ones, loud in declaring the way you were now tied to each other. He wanted you to have his kids, to upgrade from your lone cat to an actual child, two, three. One with your eyes and your smile and nothing of his (but he knew you'd get angry if he said that).

He found himself thinking about it more and more often lately. It brought some shame in him. Why, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was that he was keeping you away from what he believed could be a way better life. Or maybe all the shit he'd put you through. He'd stolen your youth after all, had taken a chunk of your twenties and had inadvertently broken your heart multiple times.

Yet you were still here, still happy just to be by his side (no matter how little sense that made to him), still making what used to be his miserable life into something not only bearable, but something he looked forward to every day.

And then he bumped into Amy.

It'd been a long time since he'd thought about her. Hadn't crossed his mind since that night he went back to Smurf's and found you there, crying because he'd scared you, had made you think he'd left without saying goodbye. But she wasn't a bad memory anymore. You'd helped with that, whether you'd meant to or not.

There were no feelings for her left in him. Still, he felt awkward at seeing her again after the way things had ended.

Last time he'd seen her, she'd been yelling at him to get out, terrified after he'd made the mistake of opening up to her, almost muttering a confession to Cath's murder. Or maybe he'd finished his sentence, he couldn't recall. It was all fuzzy, buried deep down in the embarrassment he felt at the way she'd cried, terrified of him, begging him to get out.

He snapped out of it when she called his name.

He'd taken one of his frequent skaters to the ER after a nasty fall. Some kid who'd been squatting at the lot. Shitty mom, shitty life, things he could relate to. He'd spotted Amy sitting in one of the many chairs, had tried to leave before she saw him, but he'd been too slow.

Before he knew it, she was already standing right in front of him, having spotted him from across the room.

"Hi, Amy." he grimaced, awkward.

"Who's that?" she gestured to the kid, the reason Andrew was here in the first place.

"He's just a kid from my skate park." he shrugged. He was playing it cool, unsure why.

"Your skate park?"

"Yeah, I felt like building something, s-so I did, and then these kids just all started all showing up." he mumbled. "It's just a few ramps. I mean, it's ... it's not a big deal."

"That's great." she smiled.

"Are you sick?" he asked, wondering why she was there.

She didn't look sick. Looked great, pretty much the same as before. Maybe a little less sad than she did back when they first met. He wondered if she'd gotten her kid back, if she'd gotten a new job. She probably did, judging by the blue waitress outfit she had on.

"Oh. Uh, no. Another waitress I worked with sliced her hand, and I was the only one who had a car, so..."

She was just as awkward as he was. He wasn't sure why she'd even come up to him.

The nurse interrupted then, calling for the kid, Taylor, to come back so they could take a look at him. When asked about payment, he looked to Andrew, interrupting the conversation, unsure of what to say.

"C-cash." Andrew stuttered.

"Hey." Amy called his attention again, smiling softly. "That's a good thing you're doing, with that kid."

Andrew scoffed, not in a mean way, but in a 'not really' type of way. "I don't know about that."

"It was good to see you, Andrew." she smiled at him once more when her friend came out through the same door Taylor had entered just now, telling her she was ready to go.

"Yeah, you too."

Andrew thought about her the rest of the day. He felt guilty about it, too. There was no reason for her to be in his mind, yet she was. He'd had a connection with her, one that took him back to when he was a teen, when he'd craved the acceptance the church offered him.

But he didn't want anything with her. Not like that. Not now that he had you, now that you were so ingrained in his life, so vital for his existence that he didn't know what to do with himself anymore.

Later on, she'd called him, shy, awkward, something that would've had him running laps if you weren't in the picture.

But you were. And he was willing to run laps around you every minute of the day if it meant you'd even look at him. But you looked at him regardless. Always with infatuation in your eyes, infatuation he didn't know how he came to deserve, but that he took in all the same.

It felt like cheating, taking the call. Having even bumped into her made him feel like shit, specially when he came home and didn't tell you about it as soon as he arrived that day.

When Amy suggested meeting up to rehash old things, to get some closure, he still found himself saying yes. He wasn't sure why, or what purpose it'd really serve, but he still did it.

This time he decided to tell you about it. He couldn't keep anything from you. Couldn't live with himself if you ever felt inadequate with anything he did. He was yours, which meant he'd make you privy to every detail of his life, whether you asked him to or not.

"Oh." was your initial response.

"Yeah, I, uh, she called me. Asked if we could have dinner. Wants some closure or something." he avoided your eyes, unsure of how you'd feel about it all.

"I never knew how things ended between you." you started, hands fidgeting a bit. "Was there ever any ... overlap?"

Andrew shook his head, adamant. "No. Of course not."

There'd been overlap in his feelings, which he'd told you about a small while after first getting together with you. He'd revealed it guiltily, angry with himself, feeling as if he'd somehow cheated on you as he admitted it. He'd liked you first, simply too much of an idiot to do anything about if, finding Amy before he could build up the courage to try anything with you. But as usual, you reassured him, told him you understood, that he didn't owe anything to you from before you got together.

You nodded. Your demeanor was off. A little awkward, maybe even uncomfortable.

"You can go see her, if you want. It's really up to you."

"Are you angry?" he had to ask. It was a habit. One he knew he didn't need to propagate with you, but also one that'd been beaten into him so deeply by Smurf, he could no longer get rid of it.

Your features softened, the blank look on your face leaving and morphing into one of understanding.

"Hey." you took his hand. "If you feel like you need some final goodbye or something, I understand." you reassured him. "Just ... does she think it's a date? I mean, did she ask you to dinner as a date?"

Andrew shook his head again, taking a step closer to you, hand leaving yours so he could hold your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone. "No. I'll tell her all about you. Just wanna get some closure. She knows it's not a date."

And against his better judgment, he went on with his plan. You were okay with it, a little unsure, maybe, but he felt relieved at your understanding. Part of him still sought forgiveness from Amy, for what he'd done to the church, for what he'd almost done to her, for the fear he'd caused. He needed to let go of that one last part of his past.

➽──────────────────❥

Later that night, he went back to the skate park. He wanted to clear his mind a bit. You were out anyways. Some night shift at the hospital. He hated those, they scared him on your behalf. Didn't like it when you were out alone late at night.

He'd found that kid Taylor there, hiding in the small opening found at the bottom of the ramp he'd built with Auge.

It only took a few minutes of back and forth before Andrew decided to take him in, let him stay at his house. But not your apartment, no, he meant the Cody residence. He didn't want to make this your problem. He already felt shit enough because of the Amy thing, even if you'd said it didn't bother you.

Meanwhile, things continued to fall out of order with the guys.

Andrew wasn't sure what was going on with Craig. Only knew that his relationship with sobriety had been going hot and cold lately. He wanted his son back, but couldn't really let go of his old lifestyle (one that he'd lived with since diapers, basically). After Renn ran off with their kid for a second time, he finally gave sobriety a real go, but he'd been overly temperamental as of late, the withdrawals breaking his resolve time and time again. This also caused his usually tight-knit relationship with Deran to suffer, and it was glaring to everyone around them.

J had been trying to make their work more legit. He'd been doing all types of shit behind the scenes as he tried to keep the Cody family afloat. Andrew had grown more trusting of him, but he still had to keep an eye peeled. He'd been getting with some hot-shot lawyer at the new firm they'd been dealing with. A married woman, one which Andrew advised him against, but again, he had no real control over the kid.

Deran was all the same. He had his bar, had his boy troubles, unable to settle with anyone unless it was Adrian, who he continued to mourn the loss of. You remained close, hanging at the bar with Deran whenever you weren't with Andrew at the park or working at the hospital.

Tensions were growing with the guys, which kept Andrew's focus away from shit that was actually important.

That was how he missed the first few signs that things were about to go downhill, more steep than they'd ever been.

The day of his dinner with Amy, he found himself more nervous than he thought he would be.

It was stupid. All he wanted was to apologize, to see if he hadn't fucked things up in her life the way he'd been feeling guilty about.

But it all gave him flashbacks to that first date. To the time in which he'd gone out, bought a new lavender shirt to wear, feeling guilty as he conversed with Amy, kissed her, all while you were in the back of his head. This felt similar in nature, except he now had you waiting at home for him, ring in hand and warming up his bed.

Amy picked the place, and he stopped by early to make sure they had a good table for them. One that was secluded and quiet so they could talk. It had been Auge's suggestion. But then again, Auge had confused the whole thing with a date, to which Andrew responded angrily, taking issue with the suggestion that he'd cheat on you, aware Auge knew of you, had met you multiple times.

His dinner with Amy was originally side-tracked by a woman searching for Taylor, that kid he'd decided to take in.

It frustrated Andrew, never having been one to deal with sudden obstacles very well. He liked order, and when things sent him out of place, he never really knew how to react. But still, the woman claimed to be his mom, seemed worried about him, and so he helped.

Which turned fruitless. In the end he left, already inching into tardiness for his dinner, and already feeling a weird surge of nerves within him that was not helped by the interruption. He felt bad leaving the woman like that, but he didn't know where to find Taylor and didn't want to spend the afternoon chasing ghosts. He'd last seen him at the Cody house, but he was gone now. Not much he could've really done about it.

There was an awkward half-hug involved in their greeting. Andrew had never been good at social stuff, so this wasn't out of the ordinary. Amy wasn't too socially-savvy either, as far as Andrew remembered.

"I was afraid you weren't gonna show up to this. I was pretty nervous." were his first words as he sat down across from her.

"Yeah. Um, I mean, I thought about not coming." she responded, avoiding eye contact a bit. "But I wanted to see you again. And, um ... I owe you an apology."

Andrew took in a breath, not expecting this.

He meant to come here to deliver an apology, not receive one.

"I mean, I expect God to forgive me the way He promised, but I know that He asks that I do the same." she gave him an apologetic smile, reaching across the table for his hand. "And I judged you. When what I should have done was forgiven you. It's God's place to judge you, not mine, not anyone's." she looked remorseful, eyes downcast and eyebrows lowered. "Forgive me. Please forgive me."

Andrew sat in silence for a while, stunned.

It was hard for him to see things the same way. Despite how hurt he'd felt after Amy's rejection, he ultimately understood. He had blamed himself, knowing it was an unforgivable thing, what he'd confessed to her. He had never expected anyone to forgive him, not God, not her, not even you. But when you'd forgiven him, when you'd told him that if he wasn't willing to give himself some forgiveness, that you'd do it in his name, he realized that that was all he needed.

And though he occasionally thought back to Amy, back to how terrified she'd been of him when he'd shared his turmoil about what he'd done to Cath, he felt at fault. He didn't feel deserving of this apology. Specially when he'd found his forgiveness elsewhere. Forgiveness he worked every day to earn, forgiveness he still didn't feel he deserved.

"Oh, you didn't do anything wrong."

She shook her head. "I did."

Amy continued to apologize, sitting in that small cornered table. The ambience was quiet, allowing for Andrew to take in every word, as misdirected as they all felt.

He apologized back, unsure and closed off, but he needed to get the words out of his chest.

The dinner went by fast, and by the end of it, Amy insisted on pushing forward her card, shaking her head when Andrew insisted on paying.

"You can pay next time, promise." she smiled at him as they walked out.

His steps stuttered, and so did he. "As- as friends, right?"

Amy faltered too, then. Her head tilted questioningly, "Friends?"

"Uh, yeah. I actually ... I got engaged a few months ago."

It hadn't come up during dinner. He didn't know how to bring it up without sounding like an asshole. He also wasn't very sure what Amy meant when she'd asked him to meet up, and he didn't want to assume. It didn't make sense to him for this to be a date considering the way in which she'd kicked him out last time she saw him. But based on the way she was looking at him right now, it seemed he had read things wrong.

"Oh." she smiled, furrowing her eyebrows. "I- I had no idea, Andrew. Congratulations." her hand came to his shoulder amicably, letting go within a few seconds.

They continued walking side by side into the night, with Andrew walking Amy towards her car, fists clenching and unclenching.

"We can still meet up again. Someday. Maybe I could bring her."

Lame and awkward proposal, but it was there. He wasn't sure how to be polite about this, or how to let someone down, really. No one had ever liked him, so there had never been someone to let down.

Before she could respond, they were intercepted by a woman — that same woman from earlier, Taylor's mom.

"I'm sorry. I-I waited as long as I could." she turned to Amy. "Um, I'm ... I'm Louise. Pope was helping me look for my son earlier today."

Amy was startled, but nodded. "Oh, yeah. He told me about that. I'm Amy. Did you find him?"

Louise turned to Andrew, finding his icy glare. "I'm sorry. No. I- I left my phone in your car, and I thought I lost it, but then I, um ... what was it? I figured out a way to locate it, and it's in your car." she rambled on, nervous, "You're on a date. I'm so sorry."

"No, no, no, no. It's fine. I should go anyway." Amy laughed awkwardly, looking between Andrew and Louise. "Um, go help her."

"Are you sure?" asked Andrew.

"Yeah."

Andrew nodded, not really trusting this Louise character, and not really wanting to have to deal with her, but agreed anyway. "Alright. Thank you for dinner. Drive safe."

Once left alone, the woman seemed a little less awkward, a little more forward. The lack of an audience probably helped to whatever it was that she wanted from Andrew. But Andrew didn't trust the way her eyes followed Amy as she walked to her car, nor did he trust her excessive stammering as she asked him if she could go check his car, look for her phone there.

When she finally found it, he was cutting, unwilling to engage more than necessary. Her phone was in her hands now, and now she needed to be gone. Not that he was mad at his time with Amy being cut short, but he just didn't trust her presence, suddenly appearing right after he'd allowed Taylor into his house, right after his subsequent disappearance from there.

It didn't take long for Andrew to make it back home, but he'd decided to head to the Cody house before actually going to your shared apartment. He had some things to look over. The woman's sudden appearance, her following him, it had spiked a distrust in him. Alarms were going off in his head.

Perhaps he was too obsessive, too much of a perfectionist in things that didn't really matter. But in moments like these, he was the one who noticed the small changes.

He'd told Taylor to stay in the garage, to not go into the house, and to leave during the day, to only sleep there for as long as he'd be squatting at the Cody's. Yet, when he came inside, he found shit rearranged. Cereal boxes were flipped, specs of dust suddenly gone. But more than anything, there were gaps in the surveillance cameras.

Someone had fucked with his house. Which meant they'd fucked with him.

Andrew's first suspects in mind were Taylor and Louise, his supposed mother.

He'd look this over, work it through on his own before taking it to his brothers. Before taking it to you.

➽──────────────────❥

Waking up in your shared bed the next morning, he heard you come in through the front door.

You were making as little noise as possible, he could always tell. It was an unnecessary habit of yours, and he'd told you as such every time you returned home from a night shift. Having always been a light sleeper, he'd always wake up with the lightest of noise. Specially so if he'd been expecting you the previous night.

Your night shifts were coming to an end, something he was glad about. He worried, despite his best efforts, any time you were gone and he wasn't around. Sometimes he'd go as far as to stay up through the night in case you called him.

"Andrew? Shit, did I wake you again?" you asked as you walked into your shared room, finding him sitting up on the bed.

Still undressed, he half-laid there, shirtless, sheets covering his lower half and small cat fast asleep on your pillow. Andrew minded it on your behalf, but you didn't.

"You didn't. I was waiting up for you."

You smiled at him as you put your stuff away, taking off any remnants of the day as you undressed. It was domestic, reaching a level of comfortability Andrew never imagined he'd grow so accustomed to.

As per usual, he watched you quietly as you undressed and got yourself ready for bed. He'd lay with you for a while, sleep by your side for a few extra hours before he actually started his day. It was another downside to your night shifts; the inability to sleep beside you.

"I hate night shifts." you groaned lightly. "Miss sleeping with you." you'd made it into the covers by then, kissing your cat's fur before turning to Andrew and huddling against him.

"It's almost over."

"Yeah." you sighed. "Fucking finally. How was your day? Your dinner go well?"

The space between you was practically nonexistent now. You were in his arms, bare skin of your chest pressed against his own. Sandwiched between you were your own arms, tracing shapes on his chest and pressing the occasional kiss there. He breathed in your hair, and you let him, smiling against his skin at his every touch.

"Yeah. She, uh, wanted to apologize for what happened last time." he said, not wanting to get into details. You knew what he was talking about. It'd been talked about at some point, with wavering eyes and a broken-down tone of voice. "Told her I was engaged. She was happy for me."

"Yeah? I'm glad it went well, baby."

And you meant it. There was no hidden agenda, no buried negative feelings to be found between your words. It was so unfamiliar to him, but you'd helped him realize that there were no tricks behind your feelings. You were always open with him, letting him let his guard down.

"Don't think I'll see her again, though. I'd rather take you to dinner." he mumbled against you.

You giggled. This was his form of flirting. Not very direct, kind of lame. But it always got a giggle out of you, sometimes a kiss as a reward. He'd been getting bolder with it, but not really.

"Yeah? Where you taking me?" you played along, leg lifting, perching over his waist and cuddling just a little closer.

"Everywhere."

"Hmm. Sounds fun." you yawned. The day was getting to you. A damn twelve hour shift. It made him scoff internally. "Tell me more."

So he did. He kept talking, all said in a hushed tone, almost directly into your ear. His voice lulled you to sleep. You'd told him as much before. He couldn't understand it, but if it meant you'd fall asleep in his arms, find refuge in him after a tiring day, then he'd keep doing it.

A few hours later, Andrew stopped by the skate park. He was looking for Taylor, had a few questions for the kid.

Predictably enough, he wasn't able to get is answers through simple words, which forced him to resort to violent means.

A few punches were enough to scare the kid into blabbing. About how this Louise character wasn't really his mom, how she was a cop, a dirty one who didn't do shit the straight way. He told Andrew about how she'd been tailing Andrew, using him so he could get info on Andrew, used him as a way to get into his house without anyone else knowing.

More than anger him, this terrified Andrew.

A cop had been to his house, had been following him around. She knew about Amy, probably knew about you too. She'd seen God knows what inside the Cody residence, had had access to their security tapes, had been using this kid to get intel on Andrew and his brothers.

And now Andrew had to handle this shit somehow. He had to prioritize his family, work around the system to find a way to keep them all safe, specially you.

He couldn't go the usual way about this all. He was dealing with someone dirty, someone he couldn't get rid of in the same way he had gotten rid of other obstacles before.

Figuring out a way to get the dirty cop alone wasn't too difficult all things considered. It was simple math.

She wasn't from the district, that much was obvious to Andrew. Must've been a transplant from a different county. That was how she was getting away with going incognito on him, with trailing him without anyone being aware of her going around the lawful way of doing things — not that Andrew rolled that way, but he'd at least grown used to crooked cops being upfront about it.

Using the kid, he was able to get her car to break down, blackmailing a Trujillo into towing her car back to wherever it was that she was staying. That's how he found himself inside her motel room, waiting for her to get out of the bathroom, her gun already in hand after having ransacked the place in her absence.

They did a little back and forth for a while. Useless bureaucracy that was seemingly present in every corner of life, even as he sat in a crooked cop's motel room he'd basically broken into.

He didn't know what she wanted, who she was exactly, but he was confident he could break her. He'd done it countless times, this would not be any different.

And he'd been sure, up until the point where she said her name.

"Who killed Catherine Belen?"

She wasn't scared of him. Didn't blink when he offered a payoff, didn't even flinch when he told her he didn't do payoffs, that he'd rather rid the world of her instead. And she was completely confident as she asked him the question, already knowing the answer.

"You?" she continued. "Baz? Your mother?"

She was toying with him. She enjoyed the power she held at that moment. Andrew might've been the one with the weapon, the one towering over her, but she held all the cards.

"You want to kill me? I've already uploaded my notes. They'll come right after you."

Andrew stood there, frozen, eyes angry and intense, unknowing of what to say. He just took it, the same way he took every venomous word Smurf threw his way.

She stood up, meeting his eyeline, eyes full of poison. "You want to kill me, Andrew? Go ahead." she taunted. "Go kill another woman. Why not? They can only fry you once."

No more words left his lips after that. He listened, let her burn him with her eyes, her words, not retaliating.

Because he couldn't. She'd gotten him where it hurt the most. She knew of his worst crime, the one he regretted the most, the one that had scarred him the deepest. He'd hurt who he'd thought to be the love of his life at the time. And although he now realized he'd been wrong, it still burned him inside.

He went back to the Cody house. It was your last day on night shift anyway. He wouldn't find you at home, so he opted to go to the guys instead. It'd all been a stupid fuck-up. He'd been in over his head, unaware that every action had led to this moment, that his downfall had been in the making since he'd been let out of prison four years ago.

Deran and J were having a drink by the pool by the time he arrived. They were laughing, even trying to get him in on the joke as he approached them, solemn. But he had to destroy the fun. He always did.

"A cop has been tailing me." he said as he took a seat.

That stopped both men on their tracks.

"Since when?" asked Deran.

"I don't know."

"And?" J urged, swinging his beer, tense.

"She knows."

"She knows what?" Deran pushed.

Andrew took a deep breath, unwilling to say the words he'd been keeping inside for years, but knowing that it was time. He couldn't run from it anymore.

"I killed Cath." he breathed out. "I did it for Smurf."

Andrew didn't know how to go home to you after that.

He hung around the house for a few hours, letting the night end and the day begin. Things were quiet between him and the guys, with no one knowing what to say. Craig was still AWOL, spending time with Renn basically full time now that Renn let him back into hers and Nick's lives.

Everything felt bleak. Like it was all finally coming to an end. Running from the law for the entirety of his life had proved fruitless in the end. It all came to a close like this, with Andrew cowering in the home he'd grown up in, unable to go face the love of his life, tell her it was all over, that any whispered plan between the sheets was now impossible, that he'd ruined everything.

He left somewhere during the night, deciding to torture himself some more and go visit the place where it'd all happened — Baz's old apartment. The same room in which he'd killed Cath. And the same room where he first shared a home with you.

Andrew stayed in bed all day. Your calls went unanswered, left to die as his phone vibrated on his bedside table as he laid on his side and let his wallowing consume him. He was a victim of his own doing.

Deran eventually found him, dragged him back to the house, made him food, tried to get him to talk, but it was all fruitless. Only some of his questions about the investigation were answered, but Andrew remained mostly closed off. He couldn't help himself, not when all the walls were closing in on him.

It took you a few hours to make it there. After Andrew's continued silence, you began calling Deran, who must've told you where he was. Andrew heard it all from his room, hearing murmurs of conversation between Deran and the rest. And eventually your worried voice through the speaker joined in.

By the time you'd made it to the Cody house, Andrew had already been forced out of his shell. Craig had arrived a little while before you, marching to Andrew's room, dragging him off his ass and shoving him in the shower, fully clothed. It'd all been aggressive, but Andrew didn't have it in him to fight back anymore. He wanted it all to end, couldn't get himself to fight against any of it. Much less could he face you.

When you went to find Andrew, he was in a fetal position in the shower, face hidden between his hands and knees, sobbing quietly. He remained fully clothed, drenched by then, not even hearing you come in.

"Andrew?" you asked, steps hesitant as you approached him.

He looked up, finding your worried figure. You were still in your scrubs, probably having ran here straight from work.

Andrew knew of your calls. Eight total, all within the past three hours. He knew you got off early in the morning, having worked your very last night shift last night. You must've worried when he didn't show up at your apartment, when he didn't pick up your usual call when you got off work, one he always insisted on due to his worries about you being out and about so late at night.

And now you were here, watching him have a breakdown and trying not to succumb to one of your own.

He wasn't sure if Deran had told you about anything that'd happened in the past 14 hours, but part of him hoped he had. That way he wouldn't have to look at the heartbroken look on your face when he broke the news to you.

"Baby, what happened?"

But life could never be that gracious with Andrew.

You entered the shower, turning off the faucet and sitting on the wet tiles with him, uncaring of soaking your clothes. Your hands went to him, pulling him close, breathing with him, trying to get him to calm down.

You did so for about ten minutes, until you managed to get him to breathe. Because you always did. You were the one source of calm in his life, one he'd get ripped away from far too soon.

"Deran told me something happened. Said it was bad."

He took in a breath, but it was shaky, pathetic.

"They ... they know." he started, blinking hard. His eyes found the necklace dangling from your neck, eyeing the ring you wore around your neck whenever you worked. It made a sob leave his body, made him break again. "The cops. They know I killed Cath."

This was the first time he'd ever said those words to you. You knew, and he knew you knew. He had said anything but those exact words, revealed it to you the night you first got together, but you'd accepted him, loved him regardless, so it never truly came up again. Except now it was back to haunt him, and worst of all, to haunt you too.

You stayed silent for a few seconds. But you held him closer, tightened your grip on him, sobbing out a sudden cry.

"Andrew, n-no ..."

He cried then too, hand gripping yours, thumbing the finger that held the ghost of your ring. "I'm- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The two of you sobbed, cried, with your cries eventually becoming muted, losing your breaths as you held each other, clothes soaked and spirits quickly broken. There was a heaviness he'd never felt before. A weight he knew could not be lifted.

"What's going to happen now?" you asked after a few moments of silence, hands still on Andrew in some way.

He shrugged, coughed, cleared his throat. "I have to turn myself in."

When you shook your head, he brought his hands to cup your cheeks, thumbing at the tears dampening your cheeks.

"It'll be okay." he reassured, not believing it himself. But your sad eyes made him break inside out. He hated himself for doing this to you. Even a temporary fix was better than this. "I'll make sure everything's okay, yeah?"

"But ... nothing's okay. Not if they take you away from me." you wallowed.

"I'll come back to you. I don't care how, but I will."

He made you this promise, unsure if he'd be able to fulfill it. But there was nothing else he could offer you at that moment.

His future with you was uncertain now.

You sat back as the guys discussed what happened.

The guys had eventually rushed you out of the bathroom, with Craig yelling at you to get out, to come face this shit with them. It made you angry, feeling far too much for Andrew right now to even process what had happened. The instinct to hold him and keep him all to yourself gnawed at you, but you knew that squatting in the shower and wallowing over it wouldn't help. So the two of you dried off, got dressed, and unwillingly made it to the living room for an impromptu family meeting.

You zoned out as they spoke of the details, running through them in order to see if there was any way out of this.

You didn't want to hear any of it. It made you sick, no matter how badly you loved Andrew.

He looked ashamed as he explained it, flinched when Craig would ask for more details, itching for a loophole in it all that would get them out of this situation. You held his hand all the while, but your eyes never met each other's. The pair of you were dead-eyed, burning holes into the carpet in front of you and completely given up.

There was no logical way out of this. You knew as much. It made you want to cry as you eyed the ring on your finger, the one you wore around your neck while working, never wanting to be away from it.

You'd never met Cath, but you knew she was a good woman, that she was Andrew's first love and that she'd chosen Baz over him hundreds of times. Imagining what his heartbreak must've been like always made you sick, but you never commented on it when he'd occasionally bring it up. You'd hold him, kiss his chest, tell him you loved him, that he was a clear choice to you. But discussions of Cath never went further than that.

There'd been times in which you got pieces of the puzzle. A look or a stray sentence that'd give you more details about how Cath's death came to be, but you dug them deep into your consciousness. You loved Andrew. Enough to overlook the horrible acts his mother made him take part in. You empathized with his childhood, aware that he was a victim of his environment, a casualty brought up by his upbringing.

Eventually they called up a lawyer, but things continued to look bleak.

The cop was crooked, that much was known by her bureau. But that wasn't enough to get the case thrown. The fact that she'd followed Andrew, had used a decoy under false pretenses, that she was working a case out of her jurisdiction. None of it mattered. It just took a few hours for it to dawn on you all.

It was agreed that Andrew would turn himself in.

He had a separate charge, one for assault. Detective Louise Thompson had made it up as bait to get him in, question him. But turning himself in and paying the bail was the best move.

The guys all agreed to pay as much as necessary. Half a million, a million, whatever it took.

From the corner of your eye, you saw J tense up at this, and it only made that feeling in your chest heavier.

In the end it was agreed upon. You and Deran would go drop him off at the station, would watch him get taken away and locked up.

Before you left, you got Andrew alone. The guys had dispersed, all solemn in their demeanor as it dawned on them that their eldest would be taken away, locked up — even if it was meant to be for a short while.

As he stood in front of the pool, you walked to his side, grabbing his hand bringing it up to your lips, kissing it, crying into it.

"You did this for them. You know that, right? To protect them. Like you always have."

He nodded, sad, eyes still lost in the clear water of the pool. It had some algae in it, and you knew Andrew's eyes were probably focused on it. Even at the worst of moments, he was who he was.

"Still, I did it." his voice broke. "And now ... Now I'm leaving you here. Alone." he shook his head in disbelief, tears already welling.

You tried to snap him out of it, forcing yourself in front of him and grabbing onto his cheeks. You brought him to your eyesight, forcing the eye contact as you spoke.

"You're coming back to me. Do you understand? This isn't it." you heaved. "You still need to marry me, remember? I'll just have to wait for you a little longer."

Stiff and defeated, he still nodded, a sad but slight curl of his lip showing up before you pecked his lips. The kiss tasted like tears, salty and tangy, but you still deepened it, miserable inside but putting it aside to give yourself this last kiss before things started crumbling down.

➽──────────────────❥

Objectively, Andrew had been through worse things than being booked. Hell, he'd been booked before. Proceeded by an actual incarceration.

But it all felt favorable over the moment in which be had to say goodbye to you. The moment they snapped the cuffs shut and he could hear you crying behind him, likely using Deran as a pillar to hold yourself up as your tears got the best of you.

He'd never heard you cry like that before. It was tormenting. The shrieks made his eyes close shut, bile rise up his throat only to be harshly swallowed down as he tried to keep himself together.

Deran shushed you, but Andrew kept looking forward. Because if he looked back, found your bloodshot eyes and the shine of that ring on your finger, he knew he'd fight tooth and nail to at least get to wipe a few of those tears.

He got taken into custody very quickly. Got checked, dragged into an interrogation room and found himself sitting in front of Louise Thompson all within the hour.

What was originally supposed to be a quick in-and-out situation turned bleaker than expected sooner than he thought.

At first it was a mention of Lena's name. Louise had questioned her, had found out that Lena remembered Andrew driving her and her mom into the desert in the middle of the night.

Andrew had always known that'd been a risk, but he knew that wasn't enough to stand on.

Then Louise brought up Amy.

She'd tailed her after the dinner, cornered her, gotten her to slip up and mention Andrew's confession to her.

And when things couldn't get worse, your name left her lips.

"Getting this out of your ex wasn't too hard. I just wanted to warn her about you, but she slipped. You gave her all the details, huh, Andrew? And then ... Then I thought, if your ex knew about Cath, your fiancé probably knows too. Am I right?" she smirked, head tilting triumphantly.

Andrew stopped breathing then. The moment your name was uttered, the moment his fiancé was mentioned, everything was over.

"You don't want me to have to verify this, do you?" she asked, a mocking tilt to her voice. "This could implicate her. She'd serve time. Both of them would."

Even picturing it felt like punishment. His time in prison had changed him, had been worse torture than an entire life tied to Smurf. He couldn't put you through it, couldn't drag you lower than he already had.

You'd hate him if he ever left you, if he turned himself in and never held you again. But he'd hate himself even more if he allowed you to face any danger because of his mistakes.

There was only one thing he could do.

"You know the path to redemption. There's only one way."

He'd confess to Cath's murder.

By the next morning, he was sure you already knew about his decision. You'd probably been waiting outside with Deran, waiting to pay the bail and take him home. But as the hours passed and he sat in that cell, he could practically tell at what exact time the news must've been broken to you, at what time Deran found himself forced to drag you back home, away from him.

That was the worst part of it all.

Not being locked up for life, not being caught killing his brother's wife, but being taken away from you. On top of the pain he felt at knowing he'd never get to hold you again, he felt destroyed at knowing how much it'd hurt you too.

He thought of that ring on your finger. The thought alone made him sick. He hoped you'd move on. That you wouldn't accept his decision, let yourself be rightfully angry and walk away.

You could have a happy life without him. He'd always been sure of it. This was for your best interest. Lena's, Amy's, yours.

"Andrew has a documented history of being disconnected from reality."

"So?" Deran asked.

"So it's enough to raise suspicion about his ability to understand what the detectives were asking him or what he was signing." the lawyer continued.

You were all gathered at the Cody house. All sans Andrew, who remained in prison.

It'd been a few weeks now. You hadn't gotten to see him yet. Everyone agreed against it, even Andrew, or so you'd heard from Deran. It was for the best, they'd all agreed. At least until they figured out a plan.

It broke you, knowing he was in there alone, knowing all the shit he'd been through last time he'd gotten locked up. He had shared every miserable detail with you, and it never failed to make you break, specially now.

This time around, the guys decided to pay for internal protection. All the money was circling around Andrew's imprisonment. His lawyers, his protection, his commissary, everything.

You could see how it bothered J. And it only made you even more furious. Andrew had done this to protect his family, and the newest member felt the right to try and stand against his protection.

You'd never met Julia, but you'd heard of the love shared between her and Andrew. You couldn't imagine her being okay with J's disdain towards her twin brother.

"It sounds like, uh, a lot to prove." argued J, ever the contrarian.

"No, we don't need to prove anything. We just need to raise the question why none of this was presented to the judge ahead of Andrew making a plea."

It sounded promising, but you'd learned not to get your hopes up. You hadn't bothered to speak much about the whole thing. Mostly, you'd shut down, quitting your job, isolating yourself with Deran as you mourned the loss of Andrew, however temporary everyone insisted it'd be.

Three weeks later, it didn't feel that temporary.

You still remembered the moment in which detective Louise Thompson walked up to you and Deran after they'd booked Andrew. The smug look on her face as she told you Andrew would be staying the night, her next words.

"You still have time to get away from him, honey. You don't know the type of man you're dealing with."

They'd been spoken with anything but sympathy. She wasn't looking out for you. She just had a score to settle — with herself. She needed to prove that she was better than her superiors thought, more than the demotion she'd been given after getting one of her CI's killed just outside of Oceanside. Deran had told you all about it in anger as the two of you drove back home.

You'd checked out of the conversation between the guys and the lawyers as you thought about everything that led you up to this moment. Until you heard someone say a familiar name.

"-the most damaging thing they have is Amy Wheeler's statement that Andrew described the crime to her."

You did a double take, gasping quietly and calling Deran and Craig's attention to yourself.

"She gave a statement?" you asked the lawyer.

He nodded. "It's the most damning thing they have. After Andrew told her, he implicated her. He implicated anyone he may have told about it."

Fuck.

That was it.

That was why Andrew had given up on the original plan, why he'd pled guilty and let himself be taken in. He wanted to protect Amy, make sure she didn't have to fall victim to a crime she had no part in.

And you.

You were the only other person he'd ever told. The only person who was aware of every detail, of where it'd taken place, the how's, the why's. He was trying to protect you before they could get to you in the same way they'd gotten to Amy.

Still, you couldn't help but feel angry at Amy for falling for it. Maybe it was leftover jealousy that he'd at some point chosen her over you, or maybe it was the dawning feeling that had he not gone to that dinner, this wouldn't have happened.

Nothing came from the rest of the meeting. Numbers were discussed, J continued to be a contrarian. It was a continuous battle between J and the three of you in regards of how to handle this. He kept insisting Andrew would eventually be so drugged up he'd snitch, while you practically growled at him and told him to get fucked as Deran tried to keep peace.

"We gotta do what we gotta do to get him out, but this shit takes time, okay?" Deran had a short fuse when it came to this situation. "We got to think this shit through."

"Then we break him out." Craig suggested.

Despite yourself, your ears perked up at that.

"What?" asked J, incredulous.

"We can't just leave him inside, man."

"What about this Amy? She's the real problem, right?" J continued. "And Lena."

"No one's touching Lena." you interjected. "I'd say do whatever you want about Amy, but Andrew won't let anything happen to her either."

"And that's just okay with you?" J scoffed.

"Mind your own relationship, Josh."

He scowled at you, shoulders tensing. Sore subject.

Deran walked between the two of you, blocking your view of each other. "I'll talk to Pope about Amy. But no kids."

Deran went to see Andrew later that day. And things weren't good.

Immediately, Andrew was adamant on not going to trial, on even considering getting his confession thrown out by the judge. He didn't care about any loopholes or ways around it. He was stubborn, angry about the suggestion.

Deran couldn't understand why. Specially when he had you outside those walls, waiting for him to come back.

It was just him and Andrew right now. Them, some guards nearby, a few other inmates and a clear wall separating them as they continued to disagree with each other. The sight was somewhat familiar to Deran, having visited his older brother in prison many years ago, but it still wasn't one he could be okay with getting used to.

"The lawyers said that they can get your confession thrown out." he insisted. "Okay? Thrown out. The only thing standing in the way is that they said testimony from some woman named... named Amy."

He remembered Amy. Not truly, not in any way that mattered. He just knew of her, knew she'd been a temporary thing before you came into Andrew's life. Against his better judgement, he felt disdain for the woman. She was inadvertently keeping his brother locked up, keeping his best friend's fiancé away from her.

"I don't want her to have to testify. Or Lena, okay?" Andrew huffed, a touch terrified, but mostly angry. "I don't want Lena to have to hear about it. Or see it."

Deran was about to continue to argue, not caring about what happened to either of them, but then Andrew continued.

"It's not just Amy." he swallowed. "They threatened Y/N. They said she was an accessory. That if I didn't confess, they'd find a way to make the argument that as my girlfriend, she knew."

His hold on the phone faltered as he stared into his brother's eyes. He was sure the worry in his eyes was reflecting on his own. The mention of your name instantly changed everything for Deran. Any confusion he had about Andrew's sudden change of mind, his willingness to never get to be with you again, it all made sense.

"Pope, they ... they can't do that. What if she doesn't have to testify? What if-"

"No. A lawyer can't promise that."

"Just thing about it."

"Nothing happens to her." Andrew barked. "Or Amy, or Lena. Do I make myself clear?" he hung the phone up in a harsh slam, getting up. "Guard!" he turned to Deran one last time. "Don't tell her about this. And don't come back."

"Pope got stabbed today."

You weren't sure how much more you could take.

He still refused to see you, Deran confirmed as much when he came back home from visiting Andrew, failing at getting him to accept going to trial.

Helplessness was all you'd been feeling from the moment you walked into that bathroom a few weeks ago and found Andrew soaked, crying, defeated as he told you what had happened. And at that moment you'd hoped he'd at least let you be with him throughout it all, but the last time you'd even gotten to see him had been when he first got booked.

Not knowing that'd be your final goodbye, there wasn't one.

You couldn't even muster a reaction to Deran's news about Andrew's stabbing. You just sat there, sighed and did your best to not cry again. You'd been crying too much lately.

"How bad? Is he okay?" Craig asked.

The three of you were gathered at the patio of the Cody house. Most time was spent there as of late.

"Yeah. He'll be fine. They didn't get him too bad. Some North Side San Diego gang shit. They're affiliated with the Trujillos. I guess they're still pissed about what went down with Pete."

Yet another thing Andrew had done for his family. Reckless, admittedly, but it hadn't been done on a whim. What happened with Pete was yet another instance in which Andrew had been left to do the dirty work, and now he was paying for it again.

"Whatever happened to the protection?" you asked. "What are you guys paying them for?"

"I don't know." sighed Deran. "They said they were gonna handle it."

"Well, man, we got to do something." Craig added. He'd been around a bit more ever since Andrew got arrested. Had surprised you how adamant he'd been about doing everything possible to get him out.

"I tried to smooth things over with the Trujillos."

"Yeah? How'd that go?"

Deran looked to you wearily before responding to Craig, sighing defeatedly. "She says they're gonna try to k*ll Pope. That we're weak ... with Smurf dead, Pope inside. People think we're vulnerable right now."

Craig handed you a beer, looked to you with some sort of remorse in his eyes. Both brothers walked on eggshells around you as of late. They'd stepped up, kept up with you, made sure you were as okay as you could be. Andrew would've been relieved by it. But thinking of Andrew made you too sad to indulge in.

Deran, got up from his seat, huddled next to you and wrapped his arm around you without a word.

"Hey." Craig called to you. "We're getting him out, okay? Just ... Don't think about it too much."

You nodded, eyes still downcast, a small yet sad smile gracing your lips.

J came in then, in a hurry, likely back from seeing his secret girlfriend. The one Andrew had told you about, one he didn't really trust. Or maybe it was J he didn't trust.

"Still have a couple of weeks to convince Pope before sentencing." J started.

"It's not gonna change his mind."

He continued anyway. "I have an address for that Amy. She's up in Orange County. DA have her in a hotel in Santa Ana. No police protection or anything."

"No-"

"Just go in there. I can take a gun ..."

"Then you're gonna have to kill me too." you took a swing of your beer, posture slouched, careless.

"Stop talking." Deran warned.

"He's not only protecting Amy." you kept going, there was nothing left to lose anymore. "It's me too. Thompson knows that I know about Cath. If Andrew lets this go to trial, of course his fiancé will have to testify. Then I'm up for obstruction and as an accessory."

Craig halted his movements mid sip of his beer, setting the bottle down as he looked to you in mild shock. J, in contrast, scowled at you again without saying anything. You were even more of an obstacle to him now, you knew as much.

Shaking his head, J moved on, disregarding both you and his previous plan. "We gotta do something."

"We need to break him the hell out of there is what we need to do."

You agreed. It made no logical sense. It was a fantasy, not feasible, but you still found yourself nodding, found your inner monologue thanking Craig for being the only one willing to go above and beyond for Andrew. He'd do it for them. Would do it for each and every single member of this family.

"How are we gonna do that?"

"I don't know. But we'll figure it out. We always do."

"Using what? A tank? Steal a helicopter?" J asked, not buying into it just yet.

"It's not impossible. It's like every other job you guys have done. We just have to find a weakness, and plan it out." you insisted.

"What, you participating? It's a little more complicated than that." J argued back.

"Means that we're done with Oceanside. Be on the run forever."

"What about everything you've built?" J asked. "Everything Smurf built? We can still do what we do, just without Pope. Find a new guy. Train him up."

"How can you say that?" you huffed.

"It's a family business, J. That's where the trust comes from — family. And there's no family without Pope."

There was a beat of silence. Clear hesitation from J. But none from Craig, none from Deran. And none ever imaginable for you.

"He'd do it for us. You know he would." Craig continued, looking to you and Deran for some verbal support.

"Let's do it."

"Okay." J nodded.

He was unconvinced, you could tell as much. But as long as it meant Andrew would be safe, you didn't care whether J felt forced into the job or not. His comfort was the least of your worries.

Leaving Oceanside hadn't come to mind to you. Not since you met Andrew. It was supposed to be more permanent, a new start ever since you'd gotten kicked out of your ex's place.

But Oceanside wasn't home anymore. Home was Andrew. It was Deran, it was Craig. Maybe sometimes J, but that much was incredibly fickle at the moment. If you got to pick up your cat, some of your shit, take Andrew and his brothers along, you didn't care if you ended up holed up in some house down in Puerto Rico. You'd do it. You just needed Andrew back.

➽──────────────────❥

Craig got you all passports. Real ones, fakes, everything necessary.

Renn and baby Nick had already left, had taken a flight to San Antonio that'd connect them over to Singapore. Craig had been sending them some cash every day under a fake name, making sure they'd at least have some savings when they arrived. Deran would join them. He hadn't said so, but knowing that Adrian was there, that one of his brothers and his new nephew would be there, it wasn't difficult to do the math.

You'd follow Deran and Craig. Andrew would need as much support as possible after all this. You'd stay with them, figuring it'd be for the best if you all stuck together now that you'd be leaving the country, all starting brand new elsewhere.

In the meantime, Deran got back into contact with his dad, found himself a contact in the prison that'd get them intel so they could get Andrew transferred elsewhere. It was during this transfer that the plan would take place, the interception of the transport vehicle and the subsequent abduction of Andrew so they could get him free.

It was a suicide mission, but you'd all shaken on it, agreed that Andrew was worth the risk.

Deran sold his bar, J sold everything else. The money hadn't come through yet, but it would before things set into motion. Somewhere around 5.4 million, which would get split between all four Cody's. You and Deran packed some bags, left them at some motel you'd decided to rent leading up to your departure. You took your cat there, one duffel bag for you and Andrew. It was all you needed. You could get everything else down in Thailand.

The guys were all solemn about it all. Disappointed they'd have to leave the only place they'd ever known. But you knew it was for the best. Leaving their life of crime, of constant danger of getting caught. This would let them start brand new; would let you start brand new with Andrew.

J set up the whole thing. He'd receive the money to his bank account in a week or so, just a few days before the day in which the guys would go and break Andrew out. He'd have to wait until the day Andrew was finally out to transfer everyone their share or else the sudden movement would cause suspicion, would ruin the plan and get you all locked up.

Which was why J would stay behind, closing any remaining corners and in contact with Deran and Craig as they intersected Andrew's transport and got him freed. You'd wait at the motel, ready with all yours, Deran's and Andrew's stuff. J had plans to go away with his girlfriend, as far as you were aware, so you'd be heading in different directions.

As much as it pained you to admit it, specially after the countless disagreements you'd had with J, you were grateful for everything he'd done up to this point. He'd mobilized, getting everything in order, selling all property necessary, willing to drop everything and go. It'd surprised you, having always been unsure of the Cody's real feelings towards Andrew.

You'd been a silent participant, feeling useless in it all as you watched from the sidelines. You knew there was nothing you could do, but you still beat yourself up over it. It was all your fault that Andrew had let himself be arrested. Deran denied it, so did Craig, as they both insisted you leave in advance, join Renn and stay safe for Andrew. You considered it, knowing that's what Andrew would want, but you couldn't leave preemptively.

You needed to be certain that Andrew was free and safe and by your side.

This was it for you. In a few days you'd be in that motel room waiting for a call from Deran, ready to run away, willing to break away from everything you'd known, doing so without any doubts.

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew had gotten himself sent into isolation a few weeks back.

Ten days or so, maybe more. It was hard to keep track. The antipsychotics they'd forced on him didn't help matters. Neither did the hallucinations.

But even then, he knew what he had to do.

He'd been made aware of the plan a few days into isolation. Had been given his one daily 10 minute call and had understood the cryptic message conveyed to him by Deran. He just needed to work some shit out on his side of the line.

He'd considered telling him to fuck off again, to insist once again that they let him die in here. But then Deran mentioned your name, how heartbroken you were he'd been shutting you out. He told Andrew about your anger, your random spurts of sobs in the middle of the night as Deran shared a bed with you, afraid to leave you alone.

This was the only reason why Andrew was willing to participate, to give freedom one last chance. As long as you weren't an active participant in it all, he'd be willing to try this last time.

He decided to make a deal with the DA. Feed them real information; damning information. All in exchange for a transfer to another facility. This was the one and only window for the plan to work. It wouldn't matter after it was all said and done. They'd all be gone by the time any action could be taken against the other Cody's.

But even then, Andrew confessed alone. Did not implicate any of his brothers. He took blame for the body Deran had him bury about a year back. Everything was fair game. He'd get killed in here, was in constant danger due to the Trujillo's guys going after him after what he'd done to Pete. It was run away or be killed now.

The DA didn't believe him as he confessed, but Andrew was far ahead of him. He remembered every detail of every crime, down to the clothes his victims had been wearing. Even if it was temporary, he'd take the fall.

When he got brought out to the desert to identify the body of what was actually Deran's victim, he gave confirmation of the exact place they'd find him, what clothes he'd be wearing. It was easy. It was his life, had always been. He was just able to be upfront about it now.

When J came to visit, it had already been settled. This was just the final step before things stepped into motion.

Andrew sat in that room full of inmates, back erect and posture stiff. Even after years spent in here, he couldn't help but always keep his guard up. His faith in his upcoming freedom was also not to be trusted. He held his reservations, but risking it all was all the same by that point. It was either life in prison, death by shiv, or a failed escape and reinforcement to his pre-existing sentence.

"Hey." J approached Andrew's table, sitting opposite of him. "I brought some photos for you."

A guard stopped him. "Hold it right there."

"The, uh, guard at the gate said they were okay." J handed him the pictures, showing there was nothing hidden in between, no harm in them.

"Okay."

"Thanks."

He sat then, expression mostly calm as he faced Andrew for the first time in weeks. The only person who'd been in to visit him had been Deran. That's how he'd wished for it to be. He couldn't handle any other family members, much less you.

"How you doing, man?"

"I'm okay. DA agreed to a deal."

J took a deep breath. "Okay. So, you're being transferred?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

"When?"

"Soon." Andrew confirmed. "How's the rest of the family?"

"Hanging in there. Craig and Deran found a new spot. It's nice. It's gonna have everything they need."

"Right." he nodded. "How's ... how's she?"

He wasn't sure J was the best person to ask about your current state, but he couldn't really help himself in doing so. He hadn't seen Deran since he got put in solitary, hadn't heard any updates about you. He wanted to at least know you were fine, that he'd leave this place and your arms would still be open and waiting to receive him.

J shrugged. "She's fine. Anxious, I guess. I heard she's leaving and meeting up with Renn. Gonna wait for Deran there or something."

Andrew wasn't sure what your plans were. Deran hadn't made it clear over the phone. Those calls were monitored, they both knew as much. Getting out of here meant walking in blind to unknown circumstances.

Andrew simply nodded pensively, aware J would be the last person to know what your plans were. Instead, he began to fumble with the pictures J had set on the table, finding a few of his brothers, a couple of him and Julia back when they were kids.

"I've never seen these before."

"There's a good one in there of you and my mom." J gestured towards a polaroid from back in high school. "That's the one. Look in the back."

Flipping it over, Andrew found a tiny chip plunged in there, as small as a SIM card, basically impossible to perceive.

J's eyes looked around subtly as Andrew looked at the chip, inserting it into a small fold in his shirt, hiding it from external view once again.

"It's all you now." J muttered. "You're gonna keep us posted, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Stay safe, man." J turned to a guard, flagging him. "We're done here."

He took the pictures with him as he began to walk away, only to get interrupted by Andrew as he looked both to him and the guard who was about to escort him back inside.

"Can I keep one of those pictures?" he gestured to the one of him and Julia.

The guard looked it over before J handed it to Andrew, but ultimately approved of it, allowing Andrew to keep it before walking away.

A few hours later, Andrew was alone in his cell. The guy the Cody's had paid to watch over him was elsewhere at that moment, but Andrew knew he didn't have long.

He needed a way to hide the chip, make sure it wasn't perceived by the guards who'd be strip-searching him in the next few hours. And there was only one way that came to mind.

The scar from the stabbing.

It'd been closed up by some doctor, barely stitched up. That was the only up side to the shitty healthcare inmates were subjected to. It'd been patched up mediocrely, which meant that opening it back up wouldn't be that difficult.

Using a makeshift shiv, he opened it back up — the easy part. Inserting it inside that small, bloody gap had been the painful bit, but what topped it all off was closing it back up. He had to improvise, not like he could use any stitches, not like he had any actual supplies.

Breaking the fire alarm found in the room, he fumbled with the cables inside it. Fucked around, but not really. He knew what he was doing, knew he just needed some heat in order to fuse the wound shut. It was a tiny incision, it was just painful beyond belief to shock himself, burn his skin in order to close it back up. This was only a temporary fix. He'd need a hospital as soon as you drove across the border.

When he got into the transport bus the following morning, he knew those were the last steps before everything became a chase.

There was only one thing on his mind, and it was crossing the finish line with you.

➽──────────────────❥

While Andrew dealt with this from the inside, the other guys settled every remaining loose end. J's girlfriend came to visit a few days later. Sat all of you down, told you the logistics behind the deposits of the money made from all the property sales.

The money would all be put into J's account, to be sent out to the rest of you right after Andrew got picked up by his brothers. It'd then be transferred to each one of you, with you as a placeholder for Andrew up until he was released from jail. It was all legally binding, notarized by J's girlfriend and agreed upon by all of you.

Having it all go through someone intimately attached to J gave you distrust, but you pushed it aside. This was all happening thanks to him. You knew you needed to move past any previous disagreements and go along with anything presented in front of you. If it meant freeing Andrew, then it was worth it. The guys fell under the same sentiment.

Deran's dad got confirmation about his contact. He'd tell them the exact location of the bus transporting Andrew, would tell them the time, where he'd end up if the trip ended up coming to a close — but it wouldn't. Craig and Deran would get in the way, get rid of anyone necessary to get their brother back.

The guys zeroed in on the place where they'd pick up Andrew. The middle of the desert, the point where there'd be the least contact, the least possibility of any other car passing by, even by accident. The police would likely be called immediately for backup, but they had that covered. Some dirt bikes and dune buggies would be enough for them to take Andrew and haul ass.

A GSM chip, a micro tracker, had been slipped in to Andrew through some pictures J dropped off while visiting Andrew one last time. This would allow Craig and Deran to track him should the information Deran's dad's contact be off. This way they'd also keep track of each other if things went south. You'd be back home, tracking Deran through his phone, but that was just agreed upon as a very last ditch effort in case everything went to shit and you had to drive in with one of the decoy cars Craig had gotten to cross the border. Your participation was kept between you and Deran. He knew the guys would never agree, but he knew no risks could be taken. Any extra efforts were necessary if it meant getting off unscathed.

The guys left early that morning, already geo-tracking the exact spot where they'd do Andrew's pickup. J was in his car nearby, acting as the escape vehicle and ready to take them when they headed his way with Andrew in tow. Meanwhile, you waited at the motel with a packed car. It was big enough to carry all of you, should J choose to join you and the guys in crossing the border and fleeing to Thailand a few days later, but no formal discussion about it had been had.

You didn't know the step-by-step of the guys' plan, but you were still counting down the minutes to the approximate time in which Deran would call you. You'd been tracking him, aware of the spot where they'd be grabbing Andrew, watching the screen obsessively as you sat in the motel room, ready to pick them up as soon as J dropped them off at the Cody house.

J didn't know you were still in town. The talks of you leaving ahead of time and staying with Renn had been so dense, so fixed-on, that when you decided to stay, there wasn't enough time to really update everyone on your decision. Deran knew, and you were sure he probably told Craig on the drive there, but you'd been such a last minute thing that the guys probably weren't aware yet.

You were ready for whenever you got that call. It wasn't a sure thing. They were likely to show up with one of the other used cars they'd hauled, but you were still waiting for a call, anything.

And then time kept passing. It kept going and going, and an hour went by. Far too long for them to not move. The dot on your phone remained stagnant, past the point of encounter Deran had drawn out for you. Maybe it was a glitch, but you couldn't leave shit to chance at that point.

You sat there waiting, pacing around the room, hoping to distract yourself as you waited for a call. The silent noise filling the hotel room was making you lose your mind minute by minute. Your cat was antsy on the bed, feeding off your energy.

That's when you got an amber alert.

On lookout for three men; one of them a fugitive. Descriptions were caucasian, two brunettes, one blonde. Had been called in by an anonymous tip, confirmed by a reporting officer who'd lost contact with a transport bus going north of Oceanside. The middle of the desert, having killed five cops and two inmates being transported.

It was them.

And they'd been called in anonymously.

It was J.

That was why the dot remained stagnant, why the meeting point was still far off. He'd left them there, turned back, sabotaged the whole plan by turning them in, by snitching.

You had no time to fume at the betrayal. Not when your fiancé and your best friends were on the run, stranded in the middle of the desert and about to meet their maker. Or worse, about to get locked in for life at Folsom.

Checking your phone, your suspicions were correct. All the money was gone from the main account. The one only J had access to.

He'd taken everything. Had betrayed you, sent your loved ones to die, and taken everything away.

You paced around the small motel room desperately, pulling at your hair, picking at your skin. No matter how much you racked your brain, there was no fix for this. There was no Andrew anymore, a fact that would never dawn on you, but didn't take long to drive you into madness.

It didn't take long for you to let yourself go, to drop to your knees and cry, sob, scream. Nothing could be done anymore. The chances of Andrew making it out, surrounded by cops, was less than minimal. And now his brothers had been dragged along, to be locked up along with him.

They'd killed five cops to get him out, had taken out some of the other inmates in the process. They'd all get life. You'd never see them again.

When a hammering at the door of your room interrupted your desperate sobs, you were barely lucid enough to register them. But still, you got up, numb and completely gone, and opened the door.

A frantic Deran and a furious Craig were on the other side of the door. Both had bloodshot eyes and reddened noses.

There was a frantic look in both their eyes. A drunk, crazy look that told you they were just as lost as you were.

And Andrew was nowhere to be seen.

You hugged them, gripping them tightly with relief, but there was that burning feeling inside you still, that endless worry that had crawled itself in there from the moment Andrew had been taken away from you.

When you let go, you asked, meek and quiet, already knowing the answer.

"Where's Andrew?"

"We left him ... We left him back there." Deran breathed out, eyes burning red.

You shook your head in disbelief, quick to begin hyperventilating at his response. Words tried to leave your lips, but they wouldn't. All you saw was red through the tears flooding your eyes.

"He made us. He- There was only one KTM. We had no choice." he rasped. Craig paced back and forth behind him, pulling at his hair in desperation.

"You just- you left him there? Surrounded?! Deran, I- What the fuck is wrong with you? We have to go back! We have to go get him! How could you- how could you just leave him back there!?"

Your words became babbles towards the end, convoluted, whined, screamed, a mixture of panic and fury. Your hands wrapped around yourself, nails digging into the skin of your arms, dragging irritated lines down their length. The pain felt like nothing. Nothing compared to everything else.

Craig shook his head, decisive. "No. He wasn't surrounded. They were closing in, but- he could've escaped. What if he made it out? He had three guns, ample space to run- What if- what if he made it?"

"He started fire on them, man! He made an opening for us, how the fuck do you think he could've made it out!?" Deran yelled back, channeling his panic at his brother.

"It's Pope! He's always found a way. We could- we could find out somehow. He said he'd come meet us, maybe he-"

Deran's head snapped up. "The phone! I left my phone with him." he turned to you. "Track him!"

He rushed to grab at you, palming you to find your phone in your pocket, finding it on your back left pocket and typing in your password. There, he opened up the Find My app, rushing, hands shaking, still a little dirty and bloody.

He let out a breath. "He's moving."

Rushing to his side, you looked over his shoulder, desperate eyes looking for the arrow that would lead to Andrew on the small map displayed on the screen. It was true. It was moving.

"Well, where is he? Is he alive?!" Craig yelled across from you, finally halting his pacing.

For a moment, Deran stopped breathing, swallowing, eyes widening as he lowered the phone.

"He's in Oceanside. He's heading to the house."

Craig gaped at him. "That's- that's a suicide mission. J's probably got all the cops in town there. They must've shown up to interrogate him. They know it was us. Or worse, what if J tries to finish the job when he shows up? What if-"

"Get in the car. Both of you." you interjected. "Suicide mission or not, we're all going down with him."

"What's the point? We have no money, nowhere to go." Craig blabbered on, losing his mind.

"I'll kill him. I'll kill that kid, I'll-"

"Pope's probably on his way to do that right now. Burn the place down or some shit-"

"Shut up! Both of you!" you yelled, grabbing onto Deran's arm and pulling. "We're going. Get out of this fucking room and into the car. Now!"

Deran snapped out of it, while Craig continued to panic in his anger. But still, he followed behind, mumbling something about running a job, that Andrew was still a little ways off the house and that they could rob some store for some extra cash before dropping in there. He wanted to save his brother, but the sudden disappearance of all their cash clouded his mind. There was nowhere to go if they had no money. They'd die in Thailand if broke, unable to find any sustenance in a foreign country.

Fortunately for him, you weren't as easily swayed.

Once in the car, you went straight in the direction of the Cody house, a route too familiar by now. Deran sat next to you while Craig continued to mumble threats to J under his breath, your cat laid on his lap.

"We have money." you spoke up as you drove, eyes focused on the road. "Lena's trust fund. Andrew set it up years ago — It's null now, can't give it to Lena anymore since her foster parents filed a restraining order when they found out about Cath. It's ours." you explained.

"Wait- what? You've- you've had this this whole time and never said anything? How much is in there?"

"South of a million. Nine-hundred grand last I checked. Enough for a big house in Thailand. You'll never have to work again." you barked. "Now shut up. This doesn't matter right now."

"Shit." Deran spoke up from beside you. "Pope's home." he gripped the phone tightly, looking to you with panic in his eyes.

"He's with J."

➽──────────────────❥

He was hurt. Limping his way back home, leaving a trail of blood behind.

Two shots landed on the bulletproof vest he'd put on. One near his sternum, the other graced his rib. Not lethal, but needed some pressure or else they'd bleed out, drain the life out of him.

Still, he made his way back home. He didn't know where you were, didn't want to call you as he breathed his last breath.

He opted to go back home and set things straight.

When he'd found out J disappeared on them, he knew it was no accident. The guys held up hope at first, thinking some miscommunication must've gone down, that maybe J got caught, but Andrew knew better. He'd never truly trusted the kid, but this confirmed it.

He'd left them to die.

Convincing his younger brothers to leave without him had been an uphill battle, but he would've died for them if it meant they got to escape. He could only hope that by the time he made it to the Cody house, avenged them, that they'd already be wherever you were, met up with you and given you the news of his passing.

He couldn't let himself think about you for too long. It'd kill him before he was already dead. He had a mission, and he needed to finish it. Not for himself, but for his brothers. For you.

Shattering of glass could be heard as he climbed the fence, making his way to the patio and limping towards the kitchen. The noises came from the bedroom, where he found an altered J beating at the mirror with a bat.

From behind, Andrew caught him, taking the bat from him and taking him in a chokehold. Even injured, he had a few tons of muscle on J. Bringing him down wasn't hard, specially not when he was pumping with adrenaline. Any punches returned to him felt like air when he was already struggling through the gunshot wounds.

They battled with each other all through the house until landing back in the patio. There, it was easy to get him fully under his control, to concuss him, to tie him to a chair as he figured out his next move.

His girlfriend, the lawyer whose name Andrew never learned, was there. Passed out on a beach chair, dead. He'd drugged her. Didn't stop his manipulation at stealing everything from under his uncles, at sending them on a death mission, but he had to bring a life down along with it all. Andrew shook his head, frustrated, unable to understand how he didn't see any of this coming, grappling with the fact that he'd been to stupid, that he'd trusted J and put his whole family in danger.

J woke up a mere ten minutes later, confused, groaning when he realized the situation he was in.

"Yeah." Andrew nodded. "That's good, You're awake."

"Pope ..."

"No. I can't listen to any more lies, J."

"No, no, no." J fought against the ropes keeping him tied up.

"We trusted you!" Andrew screamed. "We made you part of the family. We brought you in and we trusted you! And you set us up to die! My brothers! My girlfriend! To die!" he began to lose control, every word screamed with extra venom. "You think you're so smart. Why did you come back here, J? To set your alibi when the cops show up?"

J shook his head, desperate, trying to appeal to Andrew, but he saw right through it.

"No, no, Pope, I had heat. I had heat. I was calling to tell you."

Andrew nodded towards the limp girl on the chair. "You kill this girl?"

"I had to, man. She ... she was gonna call the cops." he heaved. "And I was gonna come and find you ..."

"No more lies!" Andrew fumed.

He made his way towards the chair, looking down at J.

"It didn't have to be this way. But you are who you are." Andrew shook his head. "And you did what you did! So you know what happens next."

Grabbing onto the arms of the chair, Andrew began to tilt it, lowering J onto the water.

But he looked head on at him, chin lifted defiantly as he spoke his next words.

"You deserved it." J barked. "All of you. For what you did to my mom. You deserved it. You deserved it!"

Andrew heaved, teeth grinding, knuckles going white due to his tight grip on the chair. And then he let go, letting J land in the water, tied up, unable to swim back to the surface.

He watched him struggle in there for a while. He thought of Julia, of the last time he'd seen her, of the time she came back, pregnant, begging him to go away with her. He thought of his weakness, of the way in which he remained in the car, listened to Smurf, didn't even look back.

The pain all came back. It made him sick, even as he watched J waddle in the water, fighting against the restraints but failing.

Jumping into the pool, Andrew helped him back to the surface, untying him, letting him swim back up and catch his breath. There, he coughed, gasped, soaked and with his chest heaving.

"She wanted me to be stronger than I was." Andrew lamented to himself, maybe to J too. "She wanted me to pretend I was normal, and I wasn't normal. Your mother was the strong one. I was the weak one!" he cried to himself.

"She loved you." J barked, breath still recovering. "She always loved you. She never stopped! She loved all of you. And you didn't do shit for her. Nothing!" he coughed.

Andrew sat there, taking it all, deserving every word.

"It's all my fault."

He thought of you, of his brothers, of Julia. He'd failed you all. Sooner or later, he'd disappoint you, lead you all to ruin.

"You could've helped her. You could've helped me, but you didn't." J continued with venom in his voice. "None of this would've happened. Not your mother, not Cath, not Baz, none of it."

Andrew's voice broke, eyes completely drowned in tears. "I should've been there for ... for your mother." he sobbed.

Andrew looked down at his hands as he sat on the ground, completely defeated.

"Just go. Just ... go." he looked to the side, giving up.

J coughed and groaned, but made his way up, running out without another word. He left Andrew there as he wallowed on his own, sobbing, crying, thinking of every person he'd hurt. He thought of you, the last one on that list, the one he'd ultimately destroy after he was done here.

But even then, he got up. His wounds were still salvageable, but he wouldn't give himself the chance. He was going to end the suffering once and for all.

➽──────────────────❥

"Oh- oh my god."

You could see the smoke as you approached the house. It almost made you stop the car on its tracks, but you drove the small rest of the way.

You saw Craig look at Deran with alarm through the rearview mirror, a look which you matched.

"Is that coming from the house?"

There was no time to answer as you sped up, finding the driveway and confirming your suspicions.

It was on fire, slowly spreading, beginning to cover the entrance.

"Andrew's in there." you choked out.

But those were your last words before you snapped off your seatbelt, beginning to get out of the car before a strong arm held your body back.

"What the hell are you doing?" Deran hissed.

"I'm going to look for him! What the fuck do you think I'm doing?"

"You're- you're crazy. It's burning! We need to go!" Craig interrupted.

"Either one of you goes in, or I will." you threatened.

Deran looked to you with panicked eyes, but he must've seen the seriousness in yours, the frantic desperation, because moments after, his seatbelt was coming off.

"I'll go." he turned to Craig. "You're coming with me. If he's in there, we'll need to carry him."

"Are you insane? We won't even be able to make it! It's-"

"Get your ass out of the car!" Deran screamed back at him. "And you — you keep this shit running. We're going straight to the border. He'll need medical attention. He was already hurt when we left him back there."

You tried to nod, tried to verbalize a thank you, but all that came out was a cry. Your head was pounding, your eyes burning and your throat shot. But he got the message, leaning in for a quick kiss to your cheek and a quiet 'wish us luck' before he got out of the car.

Reaching back, you grabbed your cat, setting her on your lap, hands itchy as they played anxiously with her fur. You watched the two boys disappear into the smoke, praying to every god you didn't believe in that they'd make it back. That they'd bring your guy out with them.

Three minutes passed. They felt like a torturous eternity, dragging every second as your eyes remained fixed on the door.

But then some shadows moved, the smoke practically stepping aside to make way for a body, and then another, and then a third one, limping in between the two larger ones it was currently supporting itself on.

It was Andrew, coughing, hacking as he limped in between his brothers who were also coughing the smoke out of their lungs.

They speed-walked, struggling with Andrew's dead weight. Craig ended up carrying him the rest of the way while Deran opened the back door for him, setting him down on the backseat.

You were speechless as you watched their every move, crying out a sob when your eyes found Andrew's. He was completely out of it, almost passed out. But you couldn't take your eyes away, practically already sobbing at his return. It'd been months.

Your ears were ringing, loud enough that you missed Deran's words, causing him to bark them out at you as he repeated himself.

"Are you listening to me? Get your ass in the back seat. I'm driving." he looked to you with ice in his glare — not angry at you, but at the situation. You didn't take it personally.

"Here." Craig had been rummaging through the trunk of the truck, grabbing the small first-aid kit you'd packed with the rest of your guys' stuff. "This won't do, but you need to patch up some of his injuries while we drive south."

They were far calmer than you, a long way from their panicked demeanors just an hour earlier. But this was good. You were out of your mind, but they'd keep you grounded.

You nodded numbly, rushing to the backseat as the guys sat up front, Craig now taking your cat while Deran backed out of the driveway. Craig threw a license plate out of the window as you drove off, likely having changed it as you froze in your reencounter with Andrew.

"Baby ..." you cried softly, hand reaching Andrew's cheek.

He was somehow still conscious. Barely, but still responded lightly to your touch.

"You're here?" he grunted, voice almost too low to hear.

"Always." you nodded. "Now let me take care of you, okay?"

You lifted up his shirt, wincing when you found endless bruises, gunshots that didn't penetrate due to the bulletproof vests Deran had insisted on taking along. Still, he had an open wound to his lower abdomen, two huge gnashes that were bleeding. Nothing had fully penetrated, but he still had a chance of bleeding out if you didn't at least deter the process.

You did your best to not cry. The tears would get in the way. And they'd make a beaten down Andrew feel even worse. Even if he was barely awake, you wanted to make things as easy for him as possible.

You'd talk later. You'd catch up, make up for the fast month of heartbreak you willingly let yourself get caught on.

Doing the most you could while inside a small, moving car, you treated him, shushing him lightly when he'd groan too loud at the pain. You cleaned him up, even managed to close off the large cut on his lower abdomen when you got stuck during traffic near the border.

No one spoke. Everyone remained silently panicked, and Andrew passed out due to the pain a good while into your treatment of him.

Things were slightly better for now, but you still had a long way to go.

➽──────────────────❥

Days could've passed. Could've been minutes. Could've all been in his imagination. Andrew had no way of knowing.

The last thing he remembered was tying up J, yelling out his frustrations, getting every one of his sins thrown back at him by the kid and breaking down in front of him as he admitted fault to each and every single one.

After that, he lost his mind a little, or, well, completely. He decided to give up. There was nowhere else to run. He'd succumb to his wounds sooner or later, finally get taken out of his misery. The last thing he could do was end it where it all began and take this miserable house down with him.

You were the last thing he thought of as he spilled oil all over the house. Every step he took, every room that he soaked, every room he lit on fire, he thought of you. Knowing he'd be leaving you behind, breaking you beyond repair, it killed him. But he'd die anyways. There was no point in running away from it anymore.

Maybe something else came after that. He wasn't sure. Couldn't really remember.

Everything was groggy as he came back into consciousness. His body felt light, no longer a heavy weight dragging him down.

His surroundings were unfamiliar. It took a while to take them in, for the bright light that was blinding him to fade away and for him to realize where he was.

It was a familiar place. It took some time for him to notice as much.

Turquoise walls, cramped space. The smell was recognizable too, anesthetic, something like that. He'd been in this room countless times. Sometimes lucid, sometimes not. It was where he always ended up when things went in an unplanned direction, far too gone to fix back at home.

It was that familiar room. The one he'd dropped Deran and Craig at any time that crimson color would ooze out of the varying wounds they'd earn through failed jobs. The same place Baz would always run off from in search of Lucy.

He was at the border. Alone, laid on an old mattress, in a badly lit room as the humidity slowly but surely soaked his skin with beads of sweat.

It pained him to sit up, with his right hand immediately reaching the aching point found on the right side of his abdomen. The scar he'd been given in jail, the same one he'd re-opened to hide the tracker J had given him in order to break him out of prison.

He thought of J then. The screaming match had been fuzzy. It was all he remembered, not thinking back to its cause until he'd fully sat up and took in his surroundings now with wide eyes. His other wounds had been a direct cause of his betrayal. Two large gashes, only salvaged by the bulletproof vest Deran had thrown his way when they'd first crashed into the transport bus. A few inches off and either of those shots could've been fatal, could've penetrated and ended everything quicker than they'd planned.

But he wanted everything to be over. He'd had a chance to live, had given it away for revenge, revenge he'd subsequently thrown away. The memory of his sister had stopped him, seeing her eyes in J's, the pain of knowing Andrew, his brothers, that none of them ever bothered to help Julia.

The raging fury inside him halted at the memory. Thinking back to the day in which Smurf drove them down to the slums, throwing away a pregnant and intoxicated Julia as she begged Andrew to go with her. He'd been a coward then, and had followed in that pattern up to this day. Never did he escape Smurf, try and find his sister, her son. And when time came to avenge his brothers who he'd sent away so he could drive off the cops, he'd given up then too.

The emotions were too many. The pain was too much. Andrew sat in that shitty room as he mulled over it all, still too fuzzy to properly register his current situation.

He hadn't stopped to think of how he'd gotten there, what he was even doing back here in the first place.

You hadn't reached his mind. Not until he saw your form enter the room, stopping on your tracks when you saw him conscious.

No words left you for a moment. Your eyes were bloodshot, just as the last time he'd seen you over a month ago. On that day where he'd been taken away from you. You looked tired too, skin shiny from the sweat, clothes wrinkled and damp, as if you'd been wearing them for a few days.

"Oh my god." you sighed with relief, hand reaching your chest, clutching at the fabric there. "You're awake."

Steps speeding up, you reached his side, eyes still worried but a weight seemingly off your shoulders. The combination of worry and relief found in your eyes was familiar to him. It was what he'd see any time he returned from a job, that same look you'd give him when you were trying to mask that panic he had a tendency to cause in you.

"Hey-"

He found it hard to speak, throat dry and sore. Without having to ask, you handed him a water bottle from nearby. He chugged it messily, mumbling a muted thank you afterward. Then your hand came up to wipe the few droplets that'd dripped from his lips, hand reaching to cup his cheek afterward.

"You worried me there." you chuckled humorlessly, voice low, almost muted.

"What happened?"

"Isn't that the question of the year." you smiled despite tears forming.

Overwhelmed, happy, sad, he wasn't sure how to interpret your emotions at that moment.

After that, you took a seat next to him as he adjusted himself on the cheap bed, sitting at its edge and touching the ground due to its lack of a base. You sat next to him, thighs touching, hand reaching his own as it laid limp on his lap.

"I'm really glad you're okay." you started. smiling lightly, squeezing his hand. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Andrew thought for a minute, filling the room with quiet. That was a difficult question. After those hallucinations in prison, his forced medication, he wasn't entirely sure what was real and what wasn't. Wasn't even sure if you were really here. Were you really holding his hand? Or were you a product of his mind just like Baz back in his cell?

Then you squeezed it again, as if to say 'I'm here, don't worry.' Not many words were always needed between you. You understood, and he was still wrapping his head around it.

"J." he breathed out. "He took our money ... ratted us out." then he stopped for a moment, realization hitting him. "The guys ... are they-"

"They're fine." you reassured. "We found you at the house. It was ..." you hesitated. "Everything was on fire. You were passed out by the pool." your eyes were worried, downcast and hesitant.

With your lowered brows, you looked to him, asking a silent question.

'Why did you do it? Why did you give up?'

You couldn't voice those questions. You didn't want to place any of the blame on him, didn't want to acknowledge the facts — that he wanted to die, that he was willing to go without a goodbye.

"I wanted to put an end to it." his life, the house, the lies, he wasn't sure which one. "He lied ... he almost killed all of us. But- but he was right. We forgot about Julia, about him. I did this. I could've helped her. It was all my fault. It was-"

Gradually, his voice broke more and more, becoming desperate and harried. It was hard to breathe, physical pain taking a backseat as the turmoil J had planted in him reached the surface again.

But you interrupted him before it could escalate the way it had back at the house.

"Hey." your voice was stern. "He was wrong. Okay? Julia, she- she loved you. She wouldn't have wanted any of this." you argued, angry. "You ... you did everything for your family. Everything. You saved their lives countless times — J's too. This was not your fault. Do you understand that?"

Rather than console him, take his face in your palms, nurture him in the way you always had, you let yourself be angry. Your tone of voice was one he'd never heard, one desperate and furious. But he took it all the same, letting you grip his hand harder than you probably intended and nodding solemnly as you let out your frustrations.

"I need you to tell me you understand. I can't- I can't do this again, Andrew. I can't have you almost die on me again." you shook your head at yourself, eyes squeezing shut as tears forced themselves out. "You left, and- and I know it was to protect me, but ... Fuck, Andrew, you got fucking stabbed in prison! You had the Trujillo's threatening to kill you. You refused to let me go see you and, and, and then you go on a suicide escape mission and-"

By then, you were panting, words jumbled and tears likely blinding your vision. Andrew took your every word, took your every tear as a well-deserved punishment. It killed him what he'd put you through, made the pain inflicted by his failed escape feel like mere scrapes in comparison to the pain in your voice.

"I'm sorry." he interrupted. His eyes were downcast, unable to turn to meet yours. It'd kill him to even try. "I wasn't trying to hurt you. All I wanted- I just wanted to keep you safe. All of you."

His voice was empty. You sounded done. Beyond so. It made his skin crawl, his breath catch. He should've stayed in prison. Should've put up with the protection the guys had been paying for. Everything if it meant he could see you. Even if it was during a monitored 15-minute visit as he sat in that uncomfortable chair, looking at your sad smile through the scratched glass separating you.

He'd do anything if it meant your voice wouldn't be as broken, if it meant he'd look down and find your ring still on your finger rather than the empty space currently looking back at him.

He'd spotted it as soon as you came in. Ignored it, hoping it was all a figment of his imagination. But then you began speaking. You sat with him, held his hand, but instead of offering him that usual shoulder to lean on, you cried, hoping to be the receiver of comfort this time around.

"Please ..." he finally turned to you, swallowing the bile making its way up his esophagus. "Please ... You're- I'd do anything for you. You're the only person who loves me- the only person I've ever really loved." he sobbed, hand gripping yours, thumb running over the empty space of your ring finger. "I didn't- I'll do anything."

You cried with him, grabbing his hand and bringing it up to your face, making him cradle your cheek, kissing it as you turned your face towards it. The two of you locked eyes then; a pair of sad eyes, swollen and drowned in dry tears.

Looking at one another, you both halted. Your eyes communicated quietly, exchanging your heartbreak with one another without exchanging a single word. You grabbed his hand and kissed his ring finger, quietly reassuring him.

"We're safe now." you mumbled after some silence. "You can- your wounds can heal. Craig's waiting for us in Thailand. We can go there and we can ... we can get married there." you smiled sadly. "Deran's got my ring. It got dirty when I tried to patch you up on the way here, didn't want it getting damaged, so I gave it to him for safekeeping." you answered the silent question, the one that'd been slowly ripping out every stitch you'd managed to fix on his heart.

He let out a heavy breath then, sighing and grabbing your hand in return, pulling it towards his face, kissing it, breathing it in, sobbing mutely against it.

"You don't have to do anything." you responded to his earlier plea. "Just stay with me, okay?"

That's when you finally brought him closer, when you finally cupped his cheeks and found his lips.

The kiss wasn't otherworldly or life-changing, but it lifted an enormous weight off Andrew's shoulders. It let him breathe again, let him take in your oxygen and the life you brought in him.

Over the next hour, you pressed him back into the bed, getting into the tiny space next to him and allowing him to hold you in his arms. When he winced at the pressure against his wounds, he shook his head, assuring you it'd be more painful if he couldn't hold you.

You explained everything to him. Explained how the guys showed up at your motel room, how you immediately ran to go look for him. The way in which you'd tried to run into the burning house, only to be stopped by Deran and Craig who found him wounded, carrying him back to the car. You cried for him, patching him up until the point in which he passed out due to exhaustion. You explained your rushed arrival to Mexico, his medical treatment, the 38 hours through which he'd slept while you laid on the floor beside his small bed, afraid you'd hurt him if you shared the bed.

You told him about the way you'd taken the money from Lena's old trust fund, unnecessarily apologetic as he waved away any of your worries it'd have disappointed him. It was smart. You were smart, had thought of everything, had saved him and his brothers.

No one had ever cared for him like this. No one had ever put their life on the line, left everything behind, accepted him regardless of all and every sin he'd committed leading to this moment. And as he sat there, in love with you, he lulled you to sleep, relieved at the opportunity to try and make up for every wound he'd inflicted in you. He'd grovel and plead and beg for your forgiveness. Forgiveness you'd already kissed into his lips, but forgiveness he'd still do everything to earn.

Two days later, Deran's contact from Mexico gave Andrew the greenlight to travel. His wounds were healed enough to sustain a flight. Craig had already handled the money back in Thailand, having left in advance in order to finally catch up with Renn and his son. J had been left behind, now somewhere none of you knew.

While Deran was furious at Andrew letting J go unscathed, you remained indifferent. As per usual, you only looked to Andrew, happy he was safe regardless of any other outcome. And he promised himself he'd ensure the same for you — your safety.

He'd take things from here.

You'd never have to worry about anything else again. He'd finally keep his promise. That he'd always come back to you, that he'd stay alive for you, that he'd marry you.

You'd saved his life. Not just by pulling him out of that burning house, but by looking back at him that first night at Deran's bar.

➽──────────────────❥

It was difficult to get used to. It shouldn't have been, but it was.

Even a year after brushing against death and making it out the other side, Andrew couldn't fully grasp what his current reality was. His whole life had been a series of looking over his shoulder, of ducking his head, of keeping his body rigid in preparation for the worst.

Now, anytime he looked over his shoulder, all he found was you, smiling, in complete bliss of being by his side. When he'd duck his head, your fingers would find his chin, lifting his head so his eyes would meet your warm ones. The rigidness of his body would relax itself when you'd put your hands on him, a touch to his shoulder, or arms wrapped around him.

In the year you'd been in Thailand, life had settled itself.

Craig had found you all a house by the beach pretty quickly, settling down with Renn, marrying her soon after and providing their son Nick with a united family.

Deran had reconciled with Adrian. It had taken a while for him to work up the courage, to let go of that undeserving self-hatred and listen to your insistence that he go back to his one real love. But in the end he'd thanked you.

You and Andrew had tied the knot soon after your arrival. It was small, quaint. Deran had given you away, Craig had been the first man and Renn the maid of honor. You didn't need a wedding, you'd told Andrew, but he insisted. He'd give you everything, would spend the rest of his life paying back the existence you had given him.

The four of you bought a large house near the beach. Lena's million and the leftover savings Craig and Renn had accumulated when she first left to Thailand had given you ample room for a lofty life. There'd be no more uncertain jobs, no more need to risk their lives just to make a living.

When Craig first suggested a single roof over all your heads, you hadn't argued. Instead, you smiled at Andrew, nodding, asking for nothing more than a room where you could end the day with him every night.

"You sure you wanna live together again?" Deran had asked his brothers, nudging Craig's shoulder.

"'ve done it all my life. Could do it for the rest of it." had been Andrew's response, light, truthful.

Days were mostly spent by the beach, often times doing housework or watching Nick for Craig and Renn while they went out surfing. You'd occasionally 'threaten' Andrew with wanting him to give you one of your own someday, but he'd just avert his eyes, stutter in his movements and file that thought away for later. He'd give it to you. The moment you asked, he'd build a family with you, fulfill that promise you'd made one another back when you told him about your cat.

Andrew grew antsy of not working quickly into that first year in Thailand. So did the guys, so did you. Unsurprisingly to Andrew, you took up moonlighting as a nurse again, while Craig and Deran fixed boards with Adrian. Andrew wished to remain close to you, so he occasionally fixed cars at a place nearby. Between your savings and your compiled work, you had a more than comfortable income to fall back on.

Everything had reached a state of normalcy, one completely foreign to the Cody's.

It'd taken a lot of unlearning, specially for Andrew, to discover how to exist without constantly looking over his shoulder, without that constant fear of the other shoe dropping. But you'd been there every step of the way, teaching him that recovering from his former lifestyle wasn't a linear process, that normalcy wasn't a strict set of rules to follow, but rather something he decided for himself.

The fear of retaliation from J remained among the three brothers for a while. Andrew would have nightmares where he'd find himself back in front of that pool, laying down and bleeding out as the house continued to burn down around him. He'd disappear at night sometimes, needing to clear his head, but always looking back fondly as you laid in bed, cat in your arms and ready to let him back in whenever he was ready for the comfort you offered.

Today had been the first time he'd had a nightmare in a good while.

He was back in jail, trapped between four walls as they closed in on him. It'd been years. He'd been long forgotten by the guys, who'd grown fed up of paying for protection, of driving out to see him. And you? You'd moved on, he'd heard as such from Deran the last time he came to see him. His letters went unanswered, his ring likely pawned or rotting in the corner of some drawer. There was no reason left to live, but nothing to do to remedy so.

He was in hell. Trapped, stuck in an endless loop of misery.

But then he woke up, cold sweats invading his skin, breath ragged and a mixture of relief and panic overtaking him in the confusion of what was reality and what wasn't.

"Baby?" he heard your mumble from beside him as he sat up, palms settled on the mattress to bring himself up.

"Go back to sleep, baby." he murmured, hand coming up to his face to smooth the furrow of his brows.

This was the usual routine. He'd have a nightmare, would wake up in a rush, proceed to go walk around the beach while you remained asleep in bed. It wasn't often when you'd get woken up in the process. He'd mastered his stealth through the years, coming and going out of the Cody house with Smurf always being none the wiser. But maybe he'd be getting his guard down a bit lately, because you'd wake up sometimes. And when you'd wake up due to him, he'd opt to just stay in bed, laying there in restless sleep but at least in your company.

Today you sat up along with him, huddling closer and bringing your knees up to your chest, pressing up against his side as your body leaned in his direction. Your cat had awoken by then, opting to jump off the bed and find elsewhere to rest, but your attention remained on Andrew.

"What's wrong?"

Your voice was worried. This tone found your voice less often these days. It made him glad, knowing that you were more at ease now. But the guilt still invaded him anytime he'd hear it. He was always its cause.

"Don't worry about it. You should get back to sleep." his palm found your knee, rubbing it softly.

"Nightmare again?"

He hesitated, but nodded.

"Wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head, turning to look at you, eyes blank, tears still drying.

In return, you offered him a sad smile, scooting closer, head leaning on his shoulder. "You're not there anymore. You're okay."

He'd told you about his nightmares before. Sometimes he'd be back at the Cody house, sometimes he'd be in jail, sometimes he'd find himself in the room where he'd killed Cath. You'd heard about each and every one of them, more than once.

"Hey." you called his attention. "Come on. Lay down with me."

Readjusting yourself, you pulled him closer, helping position him so you could lay against him. You faced each other, legs tangled and sheets thrown off. He was still sweaty, but your hands still ran gently up and down his chest, soothing him with minimal effort.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"I'm scared." he frowned. "That this is all temporary. It's been taken away from me before. It could happen again."

But you shook your head, letting your hand find its familiar place cupping his cheek, pulling his face closer.

"It won't. We're safe." you reassured. "And we're all together. Everything goes to shit, we can rely on each other, hmm? Always have."

Andrew nodded, breathing deep. You were right. And whenever you had your own doubts, whenever your fears came to the surface, he'd tell you the same thing. He'd hold you just as you were him now, he'd reassure you, do anything in his power to cease your tears.

"I'm here with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Want me to show you?"

Gradually, you'd gotten closer to each other, coming to a point where you were breathing in one another's oxygen.

He nodded, knowing where this was going. Needing it to reach its crescendo.

The two of you had a large room upstairs. The lower story was mostly reserved for Craig, Renn and Nick, while Deran had another room upstairs, but mostly stayed over at Adrian's. With all the privacy in the world, the two of you would seclude in your room more often than not.

Andrew finally had the ability to have you without a single reservation, to feel you in every way imaginable.

He'd find comfort in your body, in wrapping himself around you and vice versa. It had taken a while, but he'd grown used to it, somehow had grown accustomed to rolling over and finding your welcoming form in his bed, always willing and open for him.

You kissed him then, trapping his lips in yours, leg perching over his waist and hands cupping his face, bringing him as close as you could. In turn, Andrew's hand trailed up your thigh, pushing it higher up his waist and reaching the curve of your ass, digging his fingers there, molding them into your skin.

He felt unseemly, always finding himself more and more, insatiable any time you'd give yourself to him. Licking into your mouth, he kept kissing you, kept swallowing every moan you'd release against him, returning some of his own.

Your form was almost fully nude, only donning a tank top and some panties, which allowed him free reign in feeling every available inch of skin.

"The cat's still in the room." you mumbled when he began rolling you over, knee settling between your legs.

"Don't care."

You giggled, but he muted the sound with his lips. The muscle of his leg dug against your cunt, dragging up and down and giving you the perfect pressure to have you pulling at his hair, unable to continue the kiss due to the sounds endlessly leaving your mouth. Legs shaky, you couldn't lay still as his hands gripped your hips, moving you in sync with his leg, dragging you against it so he'd press against that perfect spot that made you throw your head back, your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

Finding the skin of your neck, he licked a strip up your jaw, nibbling at that spot at its corner that had seen many marks left by him through the passing of the years. Again, he sucked a mark there, grunting when you arched into him, silent in your pleads for more.

"Andrew, I need-"

"Want you to come like this first." he mumbled against your ear. He could wait. He wanted to take care of you first. He always did. "Can you do that?"

You nodded, desperate, eyes closed and mouth opening any time he'd press a little harder, letting out a babble of his name, a noise of pleasure only he'd get to hear.

So he continued. With a harsh grip (one he'd feel apologetic for later), he continued to move you to his liking, using his knee to creating that perfect stimulation. You begged for more. Sometimes with your voice, sometimes through your touch, sometimes just by looking at him and tilting your chin towards him, begging for a kiss.

And he'd press his lips closer, almost meeting yours, but opting to let his eyes watch every twitch of your lips as the sounds endlessly left you. He did this until you came, muttering silent words of encouragement, calling you his good girl, telling you how good you felt against him, how perfect you were for him, now and always.

The heat between your legs left its mark on his thigh, a wet, warm spot on his nude skin that made him groan by the end of it. It made him seek out your lips, mouth open and needy to connect with yours as he hurriedly repositioned you, settling you perfectly under him so he could grind against you, far too gone to go without the feel of you any longer.

Needy hands reached for him, pulling him into another kiss as he removed any barriers between you, settling nude atop you and with your panties pushed to the side. Like this, he finally gripped himself, sighing when he felt the wetness found between your legs; that same wetness he'd provoked.

"Please." you whimpered into his lips, gripping his hair a little too tight, but making him groan in pleasure all the same.

"Yeah? You want it?" he murmured, to which you purred in return, licking his tongue and wrapping your legs tighter around him, pulling him closer.

He was on his knees above you, your legs securely wrapped around him as he settled in his rightful place inside you. Matching groans were shared. Your nails raked down his back, his own forming crescent moons on the meat of your thighs.

The fit was perfect. It always was. The slapping of skin was familiar, rapid and desperate. There was always some sense of desperation when Andrew fucked you, always a silent plea to let him have you like this, to never keep this away from his reach.

"That's it?" he hummed when you tightened around him, doing so again every time he hit that specific spot.

He was close, too sensitive from all the emotions of the early hours of the AM, feeling too much towards you, more than he knew what to do with.

"Feel so good, Andrew, fuck ..." you sighed. "Want m-more. Almost there, shit."

That was all he needed. That was the greenlight to fully lose himself in you. He hammered into you, rhythm almost fully gone, now just a mixture of grinding and hammering, all delivered with multiple groans of your name.

He filled you up again, glad to take you down with him. That twisted thought invaded his head again as he did so. The memory of you holding his new nephew, the looks you'd give him late after a long day of babysitting, the thought of you swollen and waiting for him at home day after day. It became sustenance for him. He needed it to happen.

It was only a matter of time until he finally fulfilled his wish. You'd gone off birth control after leaving the states, letting him know about it with a cheeky grin, kissing his confused face and leading him into the bedroom. And soon enough it'd come to fruition. He knew it.

For now, though, he laid beside you after cleaning you up. His arms naturally found their way around you, uncaring of any sweat or leftover bodily fluids from what you'd just shared together.

You turned to him, pressing your chest to his, kissing it.

"Feeling better?"

He nodded. "Always, with you."

You smiled then, nuzzling further into him, lulling him to sleep without even trying.

You were right. He was safe now. And so were you. He didn't have to worry about any of the past anymore.

➽──────────────────❥

series masterlist

note: thank you so much to anyone who read this series!!! the ending fucked me up so bad i spent the whole month writing these and i finally feel some closure lol i hope u guys enjoyed the changes i made!! animal kingdom's a 10/10 show i was just too sensitive for that ending (and i also wanted to fuck him) 😭😭

#icymi

148 notes · View notes

pittrabbit · 15 days ago

Note

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop” and Robby for the smut sentence prompts

Anon, your mind! I love this combo. Please don't be put off by the way I used the prompt, I ended up using it twice in this.

Also I'm insane and can't stfu so this is officially a fic.

send me a smutty sentence prompt + a character and I'll write a blurb

please don't stop - michael robinavitch x reader

summary: you and robby share a moment

pairing: michael 'robby' robinavitch x fem!reader

words: 2.5k

Tags: 18+, MDNI, power dynamics (attending x intern), smut, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, reader has hair, pet names (kid, sweetheart, babygirl)

authors note: this one goes out to all the 'robby's stomach' lovers and 'robby's hands' lovers (I blame this gif for how often i talk about his large hands)

You hadn't meant to find Robby on the roof, it just happened. After the long 12 hour shift, you needed a quiet place to take a breath while you waited for your roommate to get off work and pick you up. The roof had sounded like a good idea, far from the Pitt and away from anyone who might pull you back into the fray, asking for your help.

Your sneakers came to a sudden halt on the gravel when you spotted the large frame of your attending leaning against the rooftop railing. You stood for a moment holding your breath, hoping your lack of movement would keep your presence unknown. There were lots of reasons why Robby might need some time up on the roof-some perspective, some contemplation, some quiet-and the last thing he'd likely want is his intern intruding.

Despite your deer in the headlights approach, Robby glanced over his shoulder to look at you. Of course he heard you.

"You gonna stand there all night, kid?"

"I-" You took a deep breath, contemplating your words. "I don't want to disturb you Dr. Robby. I can leave."

"Ooh, there's plenty of roof to go around." Robby motioned towards the railing with a nod of his head. "C'mon." Without another word Robby turned back to look out at the Pittsburgh skyline. Your feet lifted after a second, moving you forward to stand next to him. Robby's forearms were braced on the railing, his hands loosely clasped together, which made him hunch a bit as he leaned his weight on the cold metal. You copied his stance, not needing to hunch since you were nowhere near as tall as Robby.

You both stood together in comfortable silence, elbows brushing slightly. Since the sun had disappeared about an hour ago, and the October air was edging towards chilly, the streets were mostly quiet. Eventually the silence lead you to speak, not exactly sure how to interact with Robby outside the ED.

"So, you come here often?" You asked, an innocent lilt to your voice. Robby looked at you suddenly, his eyes full of mirth, the crows feet by his eyes crinkling, and a surprised smile spread across his face.

"You flirting with me, kid?" A laugh bubbled up past Robby's lips as he asked. Your stomach dropped out of your body and your mouth dropped open in shock. You turned to Robby, waving your hands in front of you in panic.

"No! Oh god, no, I wouldn't-I mean-you're my boss!" Your voice rose in alarm and it made Robby chuckle more. He turned to face you too but he leaned his hip casually against the railing, clearly amused by your distress.

"That was a bad joke on my part, I'm sorry." Robby didn't look sorry in the slightest. "I know you wouldn't flirt with an old man like me." Robby's self deprecating comment was innocuous, his relaxed demeanor clearly conveying that he genuinely didn't expect a young woman like you to find him attractive.

The problem was that Robby was very wrong. You did find him attractive. So attractive that sometimes you found it hard to focus during your shift. It was everything about him-his voice, his commanding presence, his big, beautiful brown eyes, his glasses-he stole your attention throughout the day and you hung on his every word, absorbing all the knowledge he had. He was so caring and competent, able to switch between authoritative and compassionate like a good leader. And when his large hands encompassed yours during a procedure or he placed his hands on the top of his head in a moment of irritation causing his scrub shirt to rise up to expose his belly, it took everything in you not to faint on the spot. The man made you dizzy and lightheaded.

You nodded dumbly at his comment, silently agreeing with him-even though you didn't-and shivering when a sudden gust of autumn wind blew past you both. Your arms immediately went around your torso in a poor attempt to fend off the cold. Robby went from amused to concerned in the blink of an eye, standing up at his full height in worry.

"Hey, take this." Robby unzipped his hoodie, shucking it off and stepping into your personal space to toss it over your shoulders. Your body moved on autopilot as you slid your arms into the hoodie, putting it on. He was so close to you, you could feel the heat from his body, you could smell the detergent on his clothes-how does he smell so good after a 12 hour shift?-you could see the individual gray hairs in his beard, the beard you fantasized about late at night. Robby's hands, ever dexterous, connected the sides of the hoodie and zipped it up for you in a matter of seconds. His bare knuckles brushed against your throat as he let go of the zipper once it reached the top and something in you snapped.

In a moment of complete insanity, you pushed up on your toes, both of your hands rising quickly to grab the sides of his face, and you kissed Robby soundly on the mouth. Robby froze against you, going stark still as your lips pressed against his, his hands hanging in the air. You intended for the kiss to be quick, a fast declaration of how you felt but to your complete surprise and delight, Robby leaned into the kiss, his large hands coming up to hold your face, mirroring your position. He pulled you closer, your bodies finally touching. His beard scratched your chin as his mouth opened to push his tongue into your mouth.

Internally, you soared-externally, you whined into his mouth, pushing up further against him. One of Robby's hands left your face to snake around you and press his open palm against the small of your back, pushing you against his body as his mouth slid hungrily against yours. The strength of his hold had your knees weak and heat coiling in your belly.

You both broke the kiss to get some much needed air but you weren't separated for long. Taking a breath he leaned back in to press his lips to yours. His fingers curled into the back of your neck and you realized his hands were big enough to cup your face and reach around your head. God, you felt dizzy.

When your lips parted for another breath you sighed his name and that seemed to break the spell over Robby. He pulled back suddenly, hands on your shoulders to separate you two and force some distance.

"Don't stop, please don't stop." You pleaded breathlessly, your hands grabbing the front of his scrub shirt. Robby hung his head as he shook it, trying to collect his thoughts. You tried to pull him closer but his arms didn't budge.

"We can't, I can't." Robby brought his gaze back to you, his miserable eyes meeting your eager ones. "I'm your teacher, I'm your boss. We shouldn't be doing this-"

"You don't want me?" Your voice came out quiet and dejected, your chest aching as you felt your heart start to crumple. You let go of his shirt as your face fell into a look of sadness, your lips turned downward. Robby took one look at your sullen, pouting mouth and the way you physically deflated as you lowered yourself back down to flat feet, and he began to backpedal. The look on your face made him feel like a real jackass.

"That's-that's not what I said." He confessed. The thrill that shot through you at his words was almost comical. You immediately perked up, a brilliant smile shining across your face. You grabbed his shirt again as you moved closer to him, practically jumping with excitement. Robby, momentarily distracted by the beautiful look of exhilaration on your face, let you drag him closer. His large hands fell to your waist, his touch firm.

"Don't get any ideas." Robby said with an edge of admonishment when your fervent gaze fell to his lips and a voice in his head reminded him of the situation he was standing in-him (the attending) holding you (the intern) too closely on the rooftop of your work. He would be in so much trouble if anyone came upstairs in this moment. "I'm an attending, you're an intern," He said quickly as you continued to lean in closer. "I'm your teacher-"

"You say that like it's meant to deter me, when it's actually one of the most attractive things about you." You pressed your chest against him as your hands slipped up his board chest, over the sides of his neck, and to the back of his head to thread your fingers through his short brown hair.

"Kid…" He whispered in warning as you leaned in.

"It's okay," You whispered back, your lips brushing his as you spoke. "I want you too."

Robby groaned low in his throat as his hands gripped your waist roughly, dragging your hips against him. He leaned forward in the same moment, capturing your lips with his in a searing kiss. These kisses were hotter, more desperate than the last. It was like Robby was trying to crawl inside you and meld the two of you together. His warm hands slid over your back as his tongue moved past your lips, and your hands gripped his hair as you moaned into his mouth.

"We have to stop." Robby mumbled between kisses, his body acting contradictorily to his words. "Anyone could see us." You pulled back from him, your eyes bright with passion.

"Then take me home."

"Jesus fucking Christ kid, what am I gonna do with you?" Robby said, breathless. You pulled your mouth off his cock and licked your lips before speaking.

"A lot hopefully." You replied with a devious smirk before leaning back in to lick his leaking tip. Robby had done exactly what you suggested and had brought you back to his apartment (after you made sure to leave the Pitt separately to not draw attention and you sent your roommate a text to say you might not be home tonight). You hadn't been inside his home long before you dragged Robby to the couch, sank to your knees in front of him, and got his cock in your hands and mouth.

"Fuck." Robby groaned, his head falling back against the couch as you licked a line from his base to his tip. "You're killing me here."

"Great way to go though, isn't it?" You opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, sucking hard while one hand pumped over the rest of him. He looked back down at you and for a second thought about how he maybe died already and having you here on your knees between his spread thighs, sucking his cock into the sinful heat of your mouth with your lips stretched wide, was his heaven.

As you worked your mouth back down his length, one hand still pumped near the base of his cock and the other hand slid up and under Robby's scrub top to caress his stomach. Your hand spread wide over the bulge of his stomach, your nails scratching lightly as you managed (barely) to fit all of him into your mouth. When you swallowed, Robby saw stars.

"Fuck kid," Robby moaned, his hips rolling up and pushing his fat cock further down your throat. You gagged a bit and Robby leapt into action immediately as concern flared through his chest, grabbing your head to lift you off his cock.

"You okay sweetheart?" Robby's hands cupped your face, pushing your hair out of your eyes, and you smiled proudly at him while you took a deep breath. Your lips were puffy and glistening with spit, your cheeks rosy. You licked your lips when you made eye contact with him and nodded coyly at his question, your head leaning more heavily into his hand. The sight of you here between his legs, your eyes hazy with lust for him, made his cock ache and twitch. You reached up and took hold of one of his wrists to move his hand to the back of your head.

"I want to know what you like. Talk me through it. Teach me Robby." You pleaded, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You looked drunk off his cock, your face flushed and eyes begging. How could he turn you down? He was your teacher after all, just like he kept saying, and you wanted to learn.

Robby took hold of the back of your head and dragged your face back to his cock. You braced your hands on his powerful thighs, the anticipation of what came next sending fire through your veins. Robby direct you back to his tall length and instructed you to open wide. You obediently followed his instructions, like you always did, and took his hard, leaking cock back into your mouth. Robby guided your head up and down his cock in needy strokes as you sucked him off, your tongue pressing against the underside of him.

"Just like that sweetheart, good job." Robby complimented as he pushed you further down, inch by inch. The praise was like a lightning strike through you and you moaned around his cock. "Oh, don't stop, please don't stop babygirl." Robby knew he wasn’t going to last long, not when you were doing exactly what he wanted. One of your hands snuck up under his shirt again, roaming over possessively over his rounded stomach and the hair on his chest while you hollowed your cheeks around his cock. Lord, you made him feel desired.

"Look at you taking all of me, you're being so good for me." Robby moaned praises as his hips desperately pushed his cock up, fucking your mouth how he wanted.

"Sweetheart I'm gonna-oh Christ-I'm gonna come." You groaned something unintelligible around his dick, sucking harder. "You want me to come in your mouth babygirl? You want all of me?" You looked up at Robby through your lashes and lowered yourself all the way down his length in response, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Taking that as a yes, Robby continued to guide your head up and down his cock as his orgasm built and built and built until hot pleasure spiked through his spine and pelvis, and he was coming into your mouth.

"Oh, oh fucking Christ kid-" Robby grunted as he came down your throat, his cock twitching and pulsing in your mouth, his large hands encompassing the sides of your head while his hips thrusted up.

"Fuck, fuck-take it all babygirl, oh take it all." You swallowed him down the best you could before you pulled back, a string of spit connecting your mouth to the tip of his dick as Robby collapsed back against the couch cushions. Robby's chest rose and fell quickly, his head flopped back on the couch, as he tried to come back down to Earth after that orgasm. You smiled giddily at him while you sat on your knees, ecstatic at the good job you did.

When Robby came back to himself he looked at you smiling at him and couldn't help but smile back. He sat forward, reached past you, and grabbed a tissue from the coffee table. He cupped his hand under your chin and wiped the tissue over your mouth, cleaning away the spit and cum. You kept your eyes locked on him while he diligently and carefully cleaned you up.

"Thank you." Robby said softly. Your face split into a grin.

"Anytime Boss."

dividers by @ cursed-carmine

#reading this alone rearranged my guts #jesus christ i need him #dr robby #fic recs

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pittrabbit · 16 days ago