Are you a fanfic author writing about Dr. Robby this holiday season?
If you’re trying to make sure your holiday fic or fanart accurately captures Robby’s Jewish perspective, look no further.
I had the pleasure of collaborating with some other Jewish fans of The Pitt (@thedamnqueenofhell @starshines @webby2007 @my-dress-is-on-fire @icemav86 and @eameschairs) on a resource to help writers and artists better understand Jewish holiday traditions.
You can find the results of that effort here.
We’re planning on doing this for other Jewish holidays, so watch this space!
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Summary: You think Dr. Abbot hates you - and then he defends your honor. Could there be more now that the two of you are actually friends? Vampire/Supernatural AU - also on AO3
This is my gift to @princesspope for @the-pitt-gift-exchange - many thanks to @chasing-will-o-the-wisps and @rori-is-writing for coordinating the event!
If there's enough interest, I can release a supplemental post that has a bit more background info about this AU.
Pairing: Vampire!Jack Abbot x F!Reader, previous F!Reader x Male OC
Tags/Warnings: Enemies (?) to Friends to Lovers, Post-Season 1, mention of Pittfest, Reader is insecure, emotional abuse (not by our beloved Jack of course), harassment, Protective!Jack, background medical information about Jack's amputation, alcohol, Only One Bed, First Kiss, P-I-V Sex (WITH BITING), Aftercare mention
Applicability - the reader character is able to be picked up by Jack, but he has vampire strength, so his lady love can be plump if you want to imagine her as such. I also purposely went non-specific on her hair description/routine.
You’ve learned three things about Dr. Jack Abbot since you started working at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center last year:
1) Dr. Abbot is a vampire – that’s not the only reason he works the night shift, but it’s certainly a factor. In fact, about half of the staff of the Pitt, both days and nights, are members of “The Community”, as the vampires and were-folk and Fae of the Pittsburgh metro area have come to call themselves.
2) He’s a goddamn hero. Even while the sun was still in the sky, he booked it to the hospital during the Pittfest incident back in September, fighting off a rough sunburn to serve as co-attending in the ER with Robby and Shen. You even heard that he joined in the mass donation, using his good leg – the patients who got his blood had improved recovery times from their wounds. The only downside for those patients is having to wear sunscreen more regularly so they don’t get the red blistering he did.
3) He despises you.
…Ok, so that last point may be melodramatic on your part. Nevertheless, you can tell you aren’t Dr. Abbot’s favorite person. You don’t think it’s a species thing – he gets on just fine with Dr. Ellis, who’s human like you. There doesn’t appear to be any of the stereotypical vamp-werewolf animosity with Dr. Shen or Dr. Robby. No…you’re the only one he's cold to.
It’s not even like you see him often. You work in the pharmacy, and it’s less than half the time that you make a direct delivery down to the ER. However, the times you’ve made the run, Dr. Abbot has frozen you out. In fact, you could swear that the first time he looked at you, he wrinkled his nose.
You know you’re not everyone’s cup of tea – your partner, Jared, has reminded you of this – but something about Dr. Abbot’s rejection is more hurtful than a simple difference of personality. You just wish you knew why you got on his shit list. If everyone else likes him…there must be something wrong with you.
--
May 2026
The Millvale Music Festival has been a raging success, and that means there have been more people coming in this evening with the usual drug and alcohol-related injuries and illnesses. As such, your personal runs down to the ER have been even more common, especially for loads of Librium and pain meds.
In all the commotion, you don’t notice Jared in one of the beds until he calls out your name. “Hey, babe, I need some of those!!”
You feel your stomach lurch – it was only last week that you finally kicked him out for good; you’d hoped ideally to never see him again. You see Bridget at the nurse’s station and wave her down, figuring she’ll know which nurse is assigned to Jared’s case.
You have the hand-off completed, but before you can turn around, you feel a hand grab your arm, and Jared pulls you towards him – he must have gotten up from his bed when you weren’t looking – why isn’t he hooked up to an IV?
“I said I needed those!” he screams in your face. “You don’t have to be a bitch about it!” God, his breath is awful – he must still be half-drunk from whatever he had at the festival.
You’d been assertive when you’d kicked him out of your house, but right now, you are paralyzed. He was never physically violent with you while you were together, and your brain can’t process him acting this way in public. Bridget looks like she would gladly deck him, but hospital policy being what it is, she can’t touch him – you hear the crackle of her walkie talkie as she tries to get a hold of security.
“Get your goddamn hands off of her.” The voice calling Jared out isn’t loud, but it’s commanding and instantly recognizable. Dr. Abbot comes walking over quickly from whatever he was doing, and with one strong hand, gets you and Jared separated, putting you behind him. “The fuck do you think you’re doing coming after one of my pharmacists?”
“One of his?”, you briefly wonder to yourself.
“She’s withholding meds, man! My head is killing me!”
“She’s doing no such fuckin’ thing,” Dr. Abbot says. “I saw her following protocol and you stalking her like some kind of low-life. You will go back to your ER bed and wait there under security escort, or I swear I will throw you out myself.”
Vampirism may not be horror-movie obvious, but the signs are there for those who know how to look – resonance in the voice, slight redness around the irises, the hint of sharpness in the teeth. Jared must know these signs, because he sneers, “You don’t scare me, parasite.” Your mouth drops open in shock at the use of such a slur.
Dr. Abbot merely shrugs. “Fine.”
He gently pushes you towards Bridget, who helps you sit down and grabs you some water. Turning back to Jared, he picks him up by the front of the shirt and carries him with one hand to the entryway. You expect Jared to kick and holler, but the realization of just what more Dr. Abbot could do must have hit him – his eyes are wide, and his hands are shaking. He seems almost relieved when he’s pushed out into the street.
You’re catching your breath when Dr. Abbot comes back, and he asks, “Are you ok?”
You look up at him and your nod is sincere, even as the tremors are still leaving your fingers. “I will be, Dr. Abbot – thank you.”
“Please – you can call me Jack.”
--
October 2026
You would never have imagined getting to see Jack Abbot like this – buzzed and cheerfully chatting with other Communal doctors after two or three drinks. However, in the months since the incident with Jared, you two have become good enough friends that he invited you as his plus one for the Community Medical Conference. You’ve opted not to have any alcohol – the Kimpton, where the conference is being hosted, is way out of your price range, so you’ll be heading home after making sure Jack gets to his room in one piece. The last thing you need is for him to fall asleep in an exposed hallway and get burned once the sun comes up.
It’s about 4 am when Jack calls it a “night”, and the two of you walk quietly to the elevators from the ball room. If these had been different circumstances, you would have thought he was freezing you out like he used to – but his eyes are warm, the crimson edges looking like living clay-filled soil or autumn leaves, not grave dirt. The elevator opens and you walk in with him.
He groans low in his throat, and in a different circumstance, you would like that sound very much. However, you know from context that his prosthetic must be killing him. You remember him telling you the story – how the medic who turned him had saved his life, but no amount of vampire venom could have brought his leg back. Your heart ached to hear of it, but you knew when he told you that he must count you close to him to let you in on it.
On top of it, with the two of you in a closed space, you wonder if your scent is closing in on him a bit. He’s never brought it up, but you figure that’s him being polite.
“You ok?” you ask.
“Will be…” Jack mumbles as the door opens onto his floor. “Just not so young anymore…”
You can’t disagree. Even with choosing to stay sober, you’re exhausted from the night’s festivities – the cocktail hour had been followed by dinner and music, and this was on top of a busy seminar schedule. It’s an even slower walk down the hall to his suite, and you’re dreaming of getting home and into comfortable clothes.
It takes you a second to register that Jack is holding open the suite door for you, and a burst of panic cuts through your exhaustion. Your poker face must be failing you, because Jack quickly says, “Just wanted to ask you to go close all the curtains, that’s all!”
Oh. Oh, that makes much more sense…though you can’t help a tiny amount of disappointment as you walk through the suite. It is stunning – all gold and green and dark polished wood. The sofa near the big window is large enough for three people to sleep on, and the bathroom has a massive shower along with a free-standing tub. Your drive back home seems less appealing by the second.
After you make sure that Jack can still unhook his prosthetic after you go, you get ready to head out. Your hand has barely brushed the door when Jack calls out to you, “Do you mind staying?”
You look over your shoulder at him in confusion. “What for?”
He’s now seated on the couch and shrugged out of his suit jacket. FUCK he looks good...the lights of the room are making his gray waves look like polished silver.
“Some colleagues of mine are from out of town…they might think you’re a donor.”
Shit, that hadn’t occurred to you. You’d like to think that it’s obvious you’re not there to be fed on – you’ve seen the human volunteers floating around the convention wearing red badges. But if someone comes around who’s drunk and who doesn’t know you…the thought makes you shudder. And besides, you’re already exhausted…
“It’s your choice,” he says, and you see that fireside warmth in his eyes again. “Just don’t want you getting in trouble.”
You bet he can hear it in your heartbeat when you decide. “Ok,” you sigh. “Don’t know what I’m gonna do about my clothes, but ok. Can I get the first crack at the shower?”
“Sure,” he says, “and you leave the clothes question to me.”
--
The shower is heavenly – you don’t feel bad at all for helping yourself to the good lotion and soap. Jack had called down to the concierge, and you’re delighted to see a robe and pajamas in your size waiting for you on the other side of the bathroom door. After you get dressed, albeit having to pull on your pre-shower underwear, you see that someone, maybe the night staff, has hung up your conference clothes in the closet.
It's already past 4:30 at this point, and you’re only half awake as you pad across the room to the couch. Jack is already tucked into the king-size bed, bare-chested, his eyes closed. As such, his voice makes you jump: “No way are you sleeping on the couch.”
“I didn’t pay for the bed,” you say with a shrug. “I already owe you for putting me up for the day.”
“And I’ll owe you if you end up tweaking your back sleeping on that thing,” Jack insists. His eyes flick open, and you swear he’s pleading with you. “There’s room enough for both of us.”
Again, your exhaustion wins out, and you crawl into the bed as Jack scoots over to make space. “You drive a hard bargain, Dr. Abbot.”
“Always,” he says, and you hear the slight lift of a laugh in his voice as he turns out the lights. “Get some rest, kid.”
--
You wake up around 11:00 am, the whispers of a wonderful dream still in your brain – and you realize that you can’t move. A strong arm is draped over you, and you feel the warmth of Jack’s breath on the back of your neck. He must have adjusted sometime in the night, and now he’s wrapped around you like you’re already his. If you’re honest with yourself, you’ve been his for weeks now.
The thought makes you feel a little weak, and you try to pull away. “Jack…JACK, I need the toilet…”
His mouth is still muffled behind your ear, and you can’t hear what he says. “What was that?”
“You smell good, why do you smell so good…”
The comment should make you happy, but instead, tears start forming at the corner of your eyes. “Dammit, Jack, LET GO.”
He must hear how upset you’re getting, because he does just that, and you sprint to the bathroom, trying to catch your breath. You forget to close the door behind you, but to his credit, when Jack follows after reattaching his prosthetic, he stays on the other side of the threshold, out of your line of sight.
“Hey, whatever I did, I’m sorry,” he says. “You’re the last person in this world I want to hurt.”
“Then don’t lie to me…” You want to shout it defiantly, but it comes out as a whimper. “I know you don’t like how I smell, and you’re my friend anyway, and that’s great and just….don’t say I smell good to you when I know I don’t!”
You can almost hear the gears in Jack’s brain grind to a halt. “…when have I EVER said that?”
“You don’t have to,” you say. “Don’t you remember when we met? You winced like I reeked of garlic and I was actively hurting you!” The rant is gaining steam, and now you don’t think you can stop. “I barely expected us to ever even be friends, so don’t get my hopes up, for fuck’s sake…especially if being around me is tough for you.” You wipe your eyes, hating how red they look in the bathroom mirror. “I don’t….I don’t want to drag you down.”
Another pause from outside the bathroom. “…can I come in?”
“Whatever.”
“I need a real answer.”
“Fine, just…fine, come in.”
Jack peeks around the threshold, and his expression is hard to read as he steps in to join you. Why does he have to look so handsome even as he’s pitying you? It’s just not fair. He reaches out to you, and damn you for being unable to resist this man – you step into his arms and let him hold you.
The two of you stand together quietly for a moment, and then he says, “You weren’t the problem, and I’m sorry I made you feel like it.”
“Then what was?” You ask, your head still resting near his bare collarbone.
“I think it was that shithead ex of yours,” Jack tells you. “How long had you two been a thing before you and I met?”
You ponder, flipping your mental calendar and doing some math. “About…eight months, but we’d been living together for four then.”
“Yeah, that tracks. He was stressing you out so much that I could smell the cortisol on you from the next hallway some days. It’s like an alarm siren in the blood, and it was so loud for you…yeah, I smelled it, but I was worried for you. For all I knew, you were going to fall into an attack one of those days. It was easing off after you dumped him, but the day he was in the ER? It was like your body was screaming for help.”
“Fuckin’ Jared,” you mutter. “So…what does that mean now?”
“It means that most days…you smell happy.” You could be wrong, but you think you hear the smile in his voice. “And you deserve to. You’re one of the kindest, smartest, hardest-working people I know.”
“Then why not just tell me?” you ask.
“Because I thought you knew…you think I’d invite just anyone to come with me to this sort of thing?”
You laugh a little bit at yourself. “I guess not.” You lift your head to look at him properly. He is smiling. “Are we good?”
“We’re good – and still friends, if that’s what you want.”
Before you can lose your nerve, you kiss Jack right on the mouth, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. When you pull away, Jack is quiet, but his eyes are almost glimmering under the bathroom lights. “Losing Jared isn’t the only thing that makes me happy…” you tell him, praying that you haven’t just made a terrible mistake. When Jack pushes you against the sink and kisses you back, your tears come out in force, but this time, they’re tears of relief.
“Are we doing this?” he asks, kissing the tear trails down your cheek.
“Jack, if you don’t take me to bed, I think I might just die.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want that…” He lifts you up so you can wrap your legs around his trim waist. You chase his mouth with yours as he’s carrying you, but he only chuckles, dodging you like this is all some wonderful game.
“You goddamn tease…I should – ” Your indignation cuts off in a brief shout as he drops you on the bed. “Hey!”
“You should what, honey?” Jack asks – and that warmth from his eyes is now spilling into his voice.
“I should…I should…I should let you call me honey some more…” It’s such a simple nickname – and yet, you can’t remember the last time someone actually used an endearment with you.
“I can do that…honey.” God, if you’re not careful, you’re going to fall in love with this man. He gently pushes your shoulder and you get the hint, lying down on the soft comforter. He properly smiles now, reaching for the hem of your sleepshirt. “Can I?”
“Yeah…” Your breath catches in your throat as he undresses you, piece by piece – like he’s unwrapping something precious. When you’re completely naked, you could swear you see his teeth sharpening.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he says, almost more to himself than you.
You could bask in his admiration for hours, but you can tell that he put on his prosthetic in a hurry – he’s wincing slightly. “C’mere…” you murmur – “Come rest…”
He gratefully joins you on the bed, and you help him unlatch his leg and get off his sleep pants and boxers. He’s already half-hard, a welcome sight indeed – and you suspect that if you were vampiric yourself, your own fangs would be popping out. That low lovely ache between your legs is getting more pronounced all the time.
“You’re no slouch yourself, ya know…” you tell him, as you reach down and start stroking him. “I always thought you were good-looking, I just thought it would never be relevant.”
“And I’ll never stop making up for that,” he promises, his words swallowed by a groan of pleasure. “Fuck, honey, just like that….”
You’re squirming for need of touch too, but you’ve never been good at multi-tasking. Thankfully, Jack sees the way you’re rubbing your thighs together, and he takes mercy on you, giving you his hand to rock against. You know you’re nowhere close to coming yet, but even just the gentle friction is a relief.
The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, gently giving each other pleasure between lingering kisses, but you can feel that Jack is fully erect now, and you don’t want to deny yourself any longer. It takes some maneuvering – along with a quick verification that you’re both clean – and Jack has you facing away from him, sliding his cock into your heat.
Jack Abbot is a generous lover, to say the least. You miss seeing his face, but he makes up for it with well aimed thrusts and a continuous rain of kisses over your neck and shoulder. Taking you from behind helps take pressure off his amputated side, and he’s making sure you get that extra pressure in spades.
However, you’re not so far gone that you don’t hear the groan of Jack’s voice turning into an animalistic growl in your ear. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, fuck me, you smell so good…please, I’ve gotta taste you…”
You’re not naïve, you know what he’s asking – you’ve seen enough people come in and out of the Pitt with bite-related injuries. And yet…you WANT him to taste you. You want him to feel the joy in your blood as if it’s candy.
“Yes…fuck, yes, Jack, taste me…”
His thrusting becomes more arrhythmic, and you swear that he moans when he bites into the side of your neck. You cry out in agony and adrenaline, but he does his best to soothe the pain – moving his fingers fast on your clit to bring you to your peak. He drinks like your blood will save his life, and with every pull, you can tell you’re getting closer.
“Fuck…Fuck, Jack, I’m gonna come!” The words are barely out of your mouth before they’re coming true – you feel your orgasm pop like the bursting of a balloon, and the cool relief washes out like a wave. Jack is close behind, and after he finds his satisfaction, the two of you take a moment to catch your breath.
You feel your eyes fluttering closed, and you groan in protest when Jack turns you around to face him. He reaches for his phone, and you look at him in confusion. “Who could you possibly need to call right now?” you ask.
“Room service,” he says, kissing your cheek. “You just gave me enough lunch to last me a week – the least I can do is make sure you’re fed.”
He says it so casually that you almost think he’s joking, but within 20 minutes, someone has dropped off a loaded brunch tray – and you don’t argue when Jack feeds it to you personally, or when the two of you take a bath afterwards.
my gift for @pixiedane for the @the-pitt-gift-exchange <33 what a sweet event to be apart of and many many thanks to the brilliant and helpful mods @chasing-will-o-the-wisps & @rori-is-writing
santellis fans we up !! 🔝
pitt yuri resurrecting me was not on my 2025 bingo board lol
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Summary: You think Dr. Abbot hates you - and then he defends your honor. Could there be more now that the two of you are actually friends? Vampire/Supernatural AU - also on AO3
This is my gift to @princesspope for @the-pitt-gift-exchange - many thanks to @chasing-will-o-the-wisps and @rori-is-writing for coordinating the event!
If there's enough interest, I can release a supplemental post that has a bit more background info about this AU.
Pairing: Vampire!Jack Abbot x F!Reader, previous F!Reader x Male OC
Tags/Warnings: Enemies (?) to Friends to Lovers, Post-Season 1, mention of Pittfest, Reader is insecure, emotional abuse (not by our beloved Jack of course), harassment, Protective!Jack, background medical information about Jack's amputation, alcohol, Only One Bed, First Kiss, P-I-V Sex (WITH BITING), Aftercare mention
Applicability - the reader character is able to be picked up by Jack, but he has vampire strength, so his lady love can be plump if you want to imagine her as such. I also purposely went non-specific on her hair description/routine.
You’ve learned three things about Dr. Jack Abbot since you started working at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center last year:
1) Dr. Abbot is a vampire – that’s not the only reason he works the night shift, but it’s certainly a factor. In fact, about half of the staff of the Pitt, both days and nights, are members of “The Community”, as the vampires and were-folk and Fae of the Pittsburgh metro area have come to call themselves.
2) He’s a goddamn hero. Even while the sun was still in the sky, he booked it to the hospital during the Pittfest incident back in September, fighting off a rough sunburn to serve as co-attending in the ER with Robby and Shen. You even heard that he joined in the mass donation, using his good leg – the patients who got his blood had improved recovery times from their wounds. The only downside for those patients is having to wear sunscreen more regularly so they don’t get the red blistering he did.
3) He despises you.
…Ok, so that last point may be melodramatic on your part. Nevertheless, you can tell you aren’t Dr. Abbot’s favorite person. You don’t think it’s a species thing – he gets on just fine with Dr. Ellis, who’s human like you. There doesn’t appear to be any of the stereotypical vamp-werewolf animosity with Dr. Shen or Dr. Robby. No…you’re the only one he's cold to.
It’s not even like you see him often. You work in the pharmacy, and it’s less than half the time that you make a direct delivery down to the ER. However, the times you’ve made the run, Dr. Abbot has frozen you out. In fact, you could swear that the first time he looked at you, he wrinkled his nose.
You know you’re not everyone’s cup of tea – your partner, Jared, has reminded you of this – but something about Dr. Abbot’s rejection is more hurtful than a simple difference of personality. You just wish you knew why you got on his shit list. If everyone else likes him…there must be something wrong with you.
--
May 2026
The Millvale Music Festival has been a raging success, and that means there have been more people coming in this evening with the usual drug and alcohol-related injuries and illnesses. As such, your personal runs down to the ER have been even more common, especially for loads of Librium and pain meds.
In all the commotion, you don’t notice Jared in one of the beds until he calls out your name. “Hey, babe, I need some of those!!”
You feel your stomach lurch – it was only last week that you finally kicked him out for good; you’d hoped ideally to never see him again. You see Bridget at the nurse’s station and wave her down, figuring she’ll know which nurse is assigned to Jared’s case.
You have the hand-off completed, but before you can turn around, you feel a hand grab your arm, and Jared pulls you towards him – he must have gotten up from his bed when you weren’t looking – why isn’t he hooked up to an IV?
“I said I needed those!” he screams in your face. “You don’t have to be a bitch about it!” God, his breath is awful – he must still be half-drunk from whatever he had at the festival.
You’d been assertive when you’d kicked him out of your house, but right now, you are paralyzed. He was never physically violent with you while you were together, and your brain can’t process him acting this way in public. Bridget looks like she would gladly deck him, but hospital policy being what it is, she can’t touch him – you hear the crackle of her walkie talkie as she tries to get a hold of security.
“Get your goddamn hands off of her.” The voice calling Jared out isn’t loud, but it’s commanding and instantly recognizable. Dr. Abbot comes walking over quickly from whatever he was doing, and with one strong hand, gets you and Jared separated, putting you behind him. “The fuck do you think you’re doing coming after one of my pharmacists?”
“One of his?”, you briefly wonder to yourself.
“She’s withholding meds, man! My head is killing me!”
“She’s doing no such fuckin’ thing,” Dr. Abbot says. “I saw her following protocol and you stalking her like some kind of low-life. You will go back to your ER bed and wait there under security escort, or I swear I will throw you out myself.”
Vampirism may not be horror-movie obvious, but the signs are there for those who know how to look – resonance in the voice, slight redness around the irises, the hint of sharpness in the teeth. Jared must know these signs, because he sneers, “You don’t scare me, parasite.” Your mouth drops open in shock at the use of such a slur.
Dr. Abbot merely shrugs. “Fine.”
He gently pushes you towards Bridget, who helps you sit down and grabs you some water. Turning back to Jared, he picks him up by the front of the shirt and carries him with one hand to the entryway. You expect Jared to kick and holler, but the realization of just what more Dr. Abbot could do must have hit him – his eyes are wide, and his hands are shaking. He seems almost relieved when he’s pushed out into the street.
You’re catching your breath when Dr. Abbot comes back, and he asks, “Are you ok?”
You look up at him and your nod is sincere, even as the tremors are still leaving your fingers. “I will be, Dr. Abbot – thank you.”
“Please – you can call me Jack.”
--
October 2026
You would never have imagined getting to see Jack Abbot like this – buzzed and cheerfully chatting with other Communal doctors after two or three drinks. However, in the months since the incident with Jared, you two have become good enough friends that he invited you as his plus one for the Community Medical Conference. You’ve opted not to have any alcohol – the Kimpton, where the conference is being hosted, is way out of your price range, so you’ll be heading home after making sure Jack gets to his room in one piece. The last thing you need is for him to fall asleep in an exposed hallway and get burned once the sun comes up.
It’s about 4 am when Jack calls it a “night”, and the two of you walk quietly to the elevators from the ball room. If these had been different circumstances, you would have thought he was freezing you out like he used to – but his eyes are warm, the crimson edges looking like living clay-filled soil or autumn leaves, not grave dirt. The elevator opens and you walk in with him.
He groans low in his throat, and in a different circumstance, you would like that sound very much. However, you know from context that his prosthetic must be killing him. You remember him telling you the story – how the medic who turned him had saved his life, but no amount of vampire venom could have brought his leg back. Your heart ached to hear of it, but you knew when he told you that he must count you close to him to let you in on it.
On top of it, with the two of you in a closed space, you wonder if your scent is closing in on him a bit. He’s never brought it up, but you figure that’s him being polite.
“You ok?” you ask.
“Will be…” Jack mumbles as the door opens onto his floor. “Just not so young anymore…”
You can’t disagree. Even with choosing to stay sober, you’re exhausted from the night’s festivities – the cocktail hour had been followed by dinner and music, and this was on top of a busy seminar schedule. It’s an even slower walk down the hall to his suite, and you’re dreaming of getting home and into comfortable clothes.
It takes you a second to register that Jack is holding open the suite door for you, and a burst of panic cuts through your exhaustion. Your poker face must be failing you, because Jack quickly says, “Just wanted to ask you to go close all the curtains, that’s all!”
Oh. Oh, that makes much more sense…though you can’t help a tiny amount of disappointment as you walk through the suite. It is stunning – all gold and green and dark polished wood. The sofa near the big window is large enough for three people to sleep on, and the bathroom has a massive shower along with a free-standing tub. Your drive back home seems less appealing by the second.
After you make sure that Jack can still unhook his prosthetic after you go, you get ready to head out. Your hand has barely brushed the door when Jack calls out to you, “Do you mind staying?”
You look over your shoulder at him in confusion. “What for?”
He’s now seated on the couch and shrugged out of his suit jacket. FUCK he looks good...the lights of the room are making his gray waves look like polished silver.
“Some colleagues of mine are from out of town…they might think you’re a donor.”
Shit, that hadn’t occurred to you. You’d like to think that it’s obvious you’re not there to be fed on – you’ve seen the human volunteers floating around the convention wearing red badges. But if someone comes around who’s drunk and who doesn’t know you…the thought makes you shudder. And besides, you’re already exhausted…
“It’s your choice,” he says, and you see that fireside warmth in his eyes again. “Just don’t want you getting in trouble.”
You bet he can hear it in your heartbeat when you decide. “Ok,” you sigh. “Don’t know what I’m gonna do about my clothes, but ok. Can I get the first crack at the shower?”
“Sure,” he says, “and you leave the clothes question to me.”
--
The shower is heavenly – you don’t feel bad at all for helping yourself to the good lotion and soap. Jack had called down to the concierge, and you’re delighted to see a robe and pajamas in your size waiting for you on the other side of the bathroom door. After you get dressed, albeit having to pull on your pre-shower underwear, you see that someone, maybe the night staff, has hung up your conference clothes in the closet.
It's already past 4:30 at this point, and you’re only half awake as you pad across the room to the couch. Jack is already tucked into the king-size bed, bare-chested, his eyes closed. As such, his voice makes you jump: “No way are you sleeping on the couch.”
“I didn’t pay for the bed,” you say with a shrug. “I already owe you for putting me up for the day.”
“And I’ll owe you if you end up tweaking your back sleeping on that thing,” Jack insists. His eyes flick open, and you swear he’s pleading with you. “There’s room enough for both of us.”
Again, your exhaustion wins out, and you crawl into the bed as Jack scoots over to make space. “You drive a hard bargain, Dr. Abbot.”
“Always,” he says, and you hear the slight lift of a laugh in his voice as he turns out the lights. “Get some rest, kid.”
--
You wake up around 11:00 am, the whispers of a wonderful dream still in your brain – and you realize that you can’t move. A strong arm is draped over you, and you feel the warmth of Jack’s breath on the back of your neck. He must have adjusted sometime in the night, and now he’s wrapped around you like you’re already his. If you’re honest with yourself, you’ve been his for weeks now.
The thought makes you feel a little weak, and you try to pull away. “Jack…JACK, I need the toilet…”
His mouth is still muffled behind your ear, and you can’t hear what he says. “What was that?”
“You smell good, why do you smell so good…”
The comment should make you happy, but instead, tears start forming at the corner of your eyes. “Dammit, Jack, LET GO.”
He must hear how upset you’re getting, because he does just that, and you sprint to the bathroom, trying to catch your breath. You forget to close the door behind you, but to his credit, when Jack follows after reattaching his prosthetic, he stays on the other side of the threshold, out of your line of sight.
“Hey, whatever I did, I’m sorry,” he says. “You’re the last person in this world I want to hurt.”
“Then don’t lie to me…” You want to shout it defiantly, but it comes out as a whimper. “I know you don’t like how I smell, and you’re my friend anyway, and that’s great and just….don’t say I smell good to you when I know I don’t!”
You can almost hear the gears in Jack’s brain grind to a halt. “…when have I EVER said that?”
“You don’t have to,” you say. “Don’t you remember when we met? You winced like I reeked of garlic and I was actively hurting you!” The rant is gaining steam, and now you don’t think you can stop. “I barely expected us to ever even be friends, so don’t get my hopes up, for fuck’s sake…especially if being around me is tough for you.” You wipe your eyes, hating how red they look in the bathroom mirror. “I don’t….I don’t want to drag you down.”
Another pause from outside the bathroom. “…can I come in?”
“Whatever.”
“I need a real answer.”
“Fine, just…fine, come in.”
Jack peeks around the threshold, and his expression is hard to read as he steps in to join you. Why does he have to look so handsome even as he’s pitying you? It’s just not fair. He reaches out to you, and damn you for being unable to resist this man – you step into his arms and let him hold you.
The two of you stand together quietly for a moment, and then he says, “You weren’t the problem, and I’m sorry I made you feel like it.”
“Then what was?” You ask, your head still resting near his bare collarbone.
“I think it was that shithead ex of yours,” Jack tells you. “How long had you two been a thing before you and I met?”
You ponder, flipping your mental calendar and doing some math. “About…eight months, but we’d been living together for four then.”
“Yeah, that tracks. He was stressing you out so much that I could smell the cortisol on you from the next hallway some days. It’s like an alarm siren in the blood, and it was so loud for you…yeah, I smelled it, but I was worried for you. For all I knew, you were going to fall into an attack one of those days. It was easing off after you dumped him, but the day he was in the ER? It was like your body was screaming for help.”
“Fuckin’ Jared,” you mutter. “So…what does that mean now?”
“It means that most days…you smell happy.” You could be wrong, but you think you hear the smile in his voice. “And you deserve to. You’re one of the kindest, smartest, hardest-working people I know.”
“Then why not just tell me?” you ask.
“Because I thought you knew…you think I’d invite just anyone to come with me to this sort of thing?”
You laugh a little bit at yourself. “I guess not.” You lift your head to look at him properly. He is smiling. “Are we good?”
“We’re good – and still friends, if that’s what you want.”
Before you can lose your nerve, you kiss Jack right on the mouth, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. When you pull away, Jack is quiet, but his eyes are almost glimmering under the bathroom lights. “Losing Jared isn’t the only thing that makes me happy…” you tell him, praying that you haven’t just made a terrible mistake. When Jack pushes you against the sink and kisses you back, your tears come out in force, but this time, they’re tears of relief.
“Are we doing this?” he asks, kissing the tear trails down your cheek.
“Jack, if you don’t take me to bed, I think I might just die.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want that…” He lifts you up so you can wrap your legs around his trim waist. You chase his mouth with yours as he’s carrying you, but he only chuckles, dodging you like this is all some wonderful game.
“You goddamn tease…I should – ” Your indignation cuts off in a brief shout as he drops you on the bed. “Hey!”
“You should what, honey?” Jack asks – and that warmth from his eyes is now spilling into his voice.
“I should…I should…I should let you call me honey some more…” It’s such a simple nickname – and yet, you can’t remember the last time someone actually used an endearment with you.
“I can do that…honey.” God, if you’re not careful, you’re going to fall in love with this man. He gently pushes your shoulder and you get the hint, lying down on the soft comforter. He properly smiles now, reaching for the hem of your sleepshirt. “Can I?”
“Yeah…” Your breath catches in your throat as he undresses you, piece by piece – like he’s unwrapping something precious. When you’re completely naked, you could swear you see his teeth sharpening.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he says, almost more to himself than you.
You could bask in his admiration for hours, but you can tell that he put on his prosthetic in a hurry – he’s wincing slightly. “C’mere…” you murmur – “Come rest…”
He gratefully joins you on the bed, and you help him unlatch his leg and get off his sleep pants and boxers. He’s already half-hard, a welcome sight indeed – and you suspect that if you were vampiric yourself, your own fangs would be popping out. That low lovely ache between your legs is getting more pronounced all the time.
“You’re no slouch yourself, ya know…” you tell him, as you reach down and start stroking him. “I always thought you were good-looking, I just thought it would never be relevant.”
“And I’ll never stop making up for that,” he promises, his words swallowed by a groan of pleasure. “Fuck, honey, just like that….”
You’re squirming for need of touch too, but you’ve never been good at multi-tasking. Thankfully, Jack sees the way you’re rubbing your thighs together, and he takes mercy on you, giving you his hand to rock against. You know you’re nowhere close to coming yet, but even just the gentle friction is a relief.
The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, gently giving each other pleasure between lingering kisses, but you can feel that Jack is fully erect now, and you don’t want to deny yourself any longer. It takes some maneuvering – along with a quick verification that you’re both clean – and Jack has you facing away from him, sliding his cock into your heat.
Jack Abbot is a generous lover, to say the least. You miss seeing his face, but he makes up for it with well aimed thrusts and a continuous rain of kisses over your neck and shoulder. Taking you from behind helps take pressure off his amputated side, and he’s making sure you get that extra pressure in spades.
However, you’re not so far gone that you don’t hear the groan of Jack’s voice turning into an animalistic growl in your ear. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, fuck me, you smell so good…please, I’ve gotta taste you…”
You’re not naïve, you know what he’s asking – you’ve seen enough people come in and out of the Pitt with bite-related injuries. And yet…you WANT him to taste you. You want him to feel the joy in your blood as if it’s candy.
“Yes…fuck, yes, Jack, taste me…”
His thrusting becomes more arrhythmic, and you swear that he moans when he bites into the side of your neck. You cry out in agony and adrenaline, but he does his best to soothe the pain – moving his fingers fast on your clit to bring you to your peak. He drinks like your blood will save his life, and with every pull, you can tell you’re getting closer.
“Fuck…Fuck, Jack, I’m gonna come!” The words are barely out of your mouth before they’re coming true – you feel your orgasm pop like the bursting of a balloon, and the cool relief washes out like a wave. Jack is close behind, and after he finds his satisfaction, the two of you take a moment to catch your breath.
You feel your eyes fluttering closed, and you groan in protest when Jack turns you around to face him. He reaches for his phone, and you look at him in confusion. “Who could you possibly need to call right now?” you ask.
“Room service,” he says, kissing your cheek. “You just gave me enough lunch to last me a week – the least I can do is make sure you’re fed.”
He says it so casually that you almost think he’s joking, but within 20 minutes, someone has dropped off a loaded brunch tray – and you don’t argue when Jack feeds it to you personally, or when the two of you take a bath afterwards.
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Gifter here again- are you ok with other Aus besides soulmates? Any no gos? I know we love this show for medical realism, but I'm a sucker for Sci-fi or Fantasy
omg hiiii !! :o)
yes ! i’m okay with other Aus. I’m not really into Sci-fi but if you’re thinking of working a Fantasy AU…!! :o) !! i think that could be fun.
as for no gos….. i’m not a big fan of non-con or sex pollen/aphrodisiac trope but other than that i can’t wait to see what you come up with ! <33
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!!
➽──────────────────❥
"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."
➽──────────────────❥
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.
➽──────────────────❥
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.
➽──────────────────❥
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.
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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.
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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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I need Robby and Jack to keep putting this hat in each other’s locker/backpack/coat pocket/what have you. Just an endless back and forth prank that all starts the day after John says, “Looks like two old white guys poached our patient.”
