Before We Knew Better | Andrew 'Pope' Cody Masterlist
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Summary: When Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody was taken into care Smurf pulled some strings and got him put in a place close to Oceanside. That place was with you and your parents. Something Smurf would later regret when she realised that the bond you and Andrew forged in the month he was there was never going away. The years went by and the older boy became your best friend. Your protector. Your person. Fast forward and when Andrew gets out of prison he finds out Smurf’s hatred for you has gone to a whole other level.
Pairing: Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x reader
Overall Warnings: Smut, violence, overprotective Pope, sub!Pope if you squint, angry pope, piv sex, oral sex, established relationship.
Hey, how are you? I know you already have a complete story, but honestly I would love you to find some chapter after the story or outside of it that tells the story of the reader with Pope the days before she entered prison it would be something great to see. By the way, I love what you write and your chapters are the best.
Thank you for the question! I am currently working on the last few parts and there are some flash backs involved (watch this space with that specific time 😏) but yes I’ve always said I will keep coming back to this story.
I have such a soft spot for it and them and their history leaves soooo much to write about and so many ideas!
Maybe even requests for certain times/events if anyone had any once it’s complete.
Before We Knew Better Bonus | Andrew 'Pope' Cody x reader
THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER. Just some stuff I cut out of Part 8 that I love
a/n: so when writing part 8 I adored the idea of Andrew just not being able to stop taking care of reader. I got carried away and wrote so many and had to cut some of it out. then I got carried away with all the little things he will have always done. anyway here they are. I'd lOVE to hear any that you guys think of too. I eat this shit up. hahahah I didn't use the tag list as it's not a chapter.
One thing about Pope was that he was prepared for anything. He always thought of every eventuality of a situation that’s why he was so good at what he did. He would stay calm and fix any issue. You and Julia were always part of that. He would make sure you were safe and if you weren’t he would fix it. No matter what.
After hearing about a break in two neighbourhoods over, he barely slept for days until he’d checked every lock in your apartment himself. He also sat in his parked car outside your apartment until sunrise because he couldn’t make himself leave.
He started carrying Narcan in his glove compartment after hearing too many stories about women getting drugged downtown. And would always be free the nights you went out to any bars.
He still checked the expiration dates on everything in your apartment automatically medicine, fire extinguisher even the fucking milk.
Your building superintendent suddenly started responding to maintenance requests immediately after Andrew cornered him one evening and made it very clear someone was paying attention.
He kept hair ties, clips and a hairbrush in his car for you just in case. It had only happened once that you needed one before he went out and bought some. He left them there. Liked the fact your hair was wrapped around it. It had spread to him buying painkillers, gum, tissues, granola bars. The glove compartment of his car is just things you might need. Just in case.
He watched you struggle carrying groceries in alone and had to physically grip the steering wheel to stop himself from running over to help.
He still sat in that chair in your bedroom. Just watching you sleep. It was the only time he was ever calm. Part of him wanting you to wake but you only ever slept when you were exhausted anymore so you never did.
Sometimes he stood outside your apartment building just listening for signs of life… your television, your music, your footsteps overhead.
One time he was in your apartment and you’d left a cardigan on your sofa. He literally fell to his knees rubbing his face against it for the best part of an hour.
When it became more obvious he changes your bedsheets too because he remembers that fresh sheets always make you sleep better and that you hate doing it.
When he’s not with you he keeps his phone on him because he knows if something bad happens you will still call him.
A man in the mall tells you to “watch where you’re going” in a harsh tone when you distractedly get in his way by accident. Andrew follows him for 6 blocks because you looked so sad and nobody got to speak to you that way. He cornered him in an alleyway and beat the shit out of him. It made him feel better.
He gets a notification about a power outage in your apartment block and he makes Deran go to you before it gets dark. He just passes him a grocery store bag with more candles than anyone needs and flashlights. As well as all your favourite snacks.
He noticed you'd stopped jogging with both earbuds in and felt so proud of you for being more careful.
He replaced your outdoor doormat because he'd seen you trip on the curled corner twice.
He knew exactly which tree branch would hit your bedroom window during storms and eventually cut it down.
He knew you hated making phone calls, so problems that required phone calls somehow tended to solve themselves.
The fact that he’s unable to touch you kills him. He has to look away sometimes when you’re only doing simple things.
The rage he has during his fights in the ring and out of it is all from missing you.
One of the hardest parts he misses is the casual intimacy. Andrew isn’t tactile with anyone but you. He’s touch starved. He misses the way your hand stroked his head/face, feeling you stroke his shoulder or arm as you pass by, the feel of your lips on his cheek.
He missed handing you a drink without asking what you wanted, brushing past you in the kitchen,feeling your feet tucked under his leg on the sofa. The way he would put them there himself sometimes when they were cold.
How he'd automatically move you to the inside of the pavement, away from traffic.
How he pulled you closer in his sleep.
The way he rested his hand on the small of your back in crowded rooms.
How he would brush your hair off your shoulder when it got caught under your coat.
How he'd handed you his drink because he knew you'd like it better than your own.
How he would always reach for your coat before you even realised you were cold.
How he'd touch your knee during conversations just to remind himself you were there.
How he'd automatically slowed his pace to match yours.
How he'd put his arm out when he braked too hard.
How he'd known which nights to pull you against him and which nights to give you space. Which were very rare.
How he'd remembered every tiny preference until they felt like his own.
He thinks about how you’d hate all the injuries he was getting but he deserved them.
He would sometimes take punches in his fights even though he could easily dodge and over power his opponent.
The missing was one thing.
He could survive missing you. If it meant you were safe.
It was the remembering that ruined him.
Remembering how naturally you fit against his side. How he'd reached for you without thinking. How many years he'd spent taking your presence for granted, never imagining there would come a day he couldn’t touch you at all.
Before We Knew Better 8 | Andrew 'Pope' Cody x reader
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Masterlist
Summary: When Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody was taken into care Smurf pulled some strings and got him put in a place close to Oceanside. That place was with you and your parents. Something Smurf would later regret when she realised that the bond you and Andrew forged in the month he was there was never going away. The years went by and the older boy became your best friend. Your protector. Your person. Fast forward and when Andrew gets out of prison he finds out Smurf’s hatred for you has gone to a whole other level.
Pairing: Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x reader
Warnings: smut, angst, yearning, kind of stalker pope I'm not gonna lie, obsessive pope, smurf, mental illness, mentions of assault, alcohol, violence, season 4 pope is a warning of its own.
A/N: I actually love this chapter. Despite some of the content. I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you, thank you for all the feedback and likes and re-blogs. Finally got to beefy Pope. I don't know if I mentioned it enough times in this hahahaha. SPOILERS for season 4 up to mid episode 5.
“I want you here at home with me.” Her voice, sickly sweet with no real care in it made his skin crawl. “Where I can look after you.”
“No.”
“She can’t take care of you the way I can.” It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it but he wanted it to be the last. Nobody knew him better, cared or took care of him more than you did.
He wanted to argue the fact but any assurance he’s had that she wouldn’t hurt you had dies with Baz.
If she could so that.
She could do anything.
He needed you and Lena safe more than anything.
“You know she isn’t meant for this life, Andrew. She isn’t family.”
“She’s my family.” He knows it was a mistake as soon as he had rasped it, pained and heartfelt. The total opposite of her voice.
You were his family. The one he had chosen. The only one who had chosen him for no other reason than you had wanted to.
The statement and the truth of it written across his face filled Smurf with rage. A cold, quiet kind that he’d only seen a handful of times. The fake soft voice replaced by the cutting, abrupt one he was far more familiar with, especially recently.
“You’re being selfish Andrew.” She stood up from the place she had been sat on her bed. There was another party going on outside, for Lena’s return home. When he told her he had taken her back to the foster family he sensed straight away she wasn’t going to let this go easily.
She wasn’t always so obvious with it but she was desperate to have full control over him again.
“You know it’s only a matter of time before she gets caught up in shit she can’t handle. You’re going to get her hurt.” He didn’t miss the threat behind her voice. “Or worse…”
He didn’t say anything and so Smurf kept on, chipping away at him the way she had become an expert at. “You think Lucy couldn’t have made her disappear quicker than you’d have even knew she was gone?”
“Shut up.” He spits but he holds himself back despite the urge to grab her by the neck. Too frightened of what could happen. Lucy wasn’t just a murderer. She was involved in human trafficking and the thought sent a rage through him that left him frozen. “You threaten her again and you’ll finally see exactly what kind of man you raised.” He gets in her face, a darkness in his eyes she’s never had directed at her before.
“Don’t you see, Andrew?” She says it in the voice of a concerned Mother teaching him something. “That’s exactly why she would do it.” That was it. That look of bitter understanding in his eyes and she knew she’d got him.
She had been trying to cling to any last bits of control since he had gotten out of prison and spectacularly failed, she blamed you of course. But she was finally getting some control back.
And she just couldn’t help herself, couldn’t stop there. She had to seal it in his mind.
“The cops could turn her.” She triggers the memory of Cath, of what he did.
“I would never!”
Smurf could see it in his eyes. That he would happily kill her in that moment. It didn’t hurt her though. She could bring him back. She always could, just needed some quality time with him without you in the way.
So she could slither her way into him mind again and make her home there more permanent.
“Of course, you wouldn’t baby.” She reached up to stroke his hair but he snapped his head backwards, away from her. “But accidents happen.”
The pair stood there Smurf looking far too pleased with herself and Andrew’s rage breaking him down inside. Every single insecurity he fought so hard against, that you’d fought so hard against, came back.
“You move back home, stop seeing her and I’ll forget either of them ever existed.”
She made it sound so simple. Like it wasn’t one of the worst things he could imagine.
Andrew had already thought about how he was going to kill Smurf. When he realised the truth about Baz. When everything started fucking up once she was out of jail. He didn’t know when. But he would. In a way that his brothers would’t know it was him.
He couldn’t imagine a life without you but maybe it was time. Smurf was right in one way. He had been selfish to keep you a part of this for so long.
He nods despite the way his mind is screaming at him.
That this isn’t right.
That you love him and he loves you.
That he is worthy.
That he can keep you safe.
That everything will be okay.
The voice sounds like you.
And in the days that follow he hears you. He listens to you. He sits as still and silent as possible to try and repeat your intonations, that soft tone in his mind, the one that makes everything feel alright.
It would be his secret.
It would be his way of coping.
Deran is the first person you see. He shouts through the door that he will literally break it down if you don’t answer which is the only reason you do after almost thirty minutes of him knocking, calling through the door and blasting your phone.
“What the fuck is going on?” He says as he walks in. Seeing you, hair unbrushed, dark circles and a blank look in your eyes reminds him of a similar looking Pope he had just left. Bare foot, shirtless he’d walked to him and broken down. He had never seen his big brother like that. He had always had you to go to. It had shook Deran to see him like that.
“What?” You ask as you walk past him to the small sitting area at the back of your apartment, Pope had built a fence for privacy. He’d laughed when you ‘made it pretty’ with flowers.
Deran joins you there. “You and Pope?”
You stay staring ahead. “He said he can’t see me anymore.”
“Bull shit. This is Smurf you know that right?”
“Course I do, Deran.” You say irritably.
“Then you know it won’t last. He can’t stay away from you. He’s a mess.”
That hurt. You were so shared of how this could end.
“I can’t force him to be with me. She’s fucked him up long before he found me. I tried.” Your voice wobbles and Deran sighs heavily. “Whatever she’s said this time… it’s took.” You knew deep down it was the same old Smurf, seeing him vulnerable after Lena and digging her claws in.
“No.” Deran shakes his head. He doesn’t get it but you’re just too exhausted to try and explain the intricacies of the eldest Cody the way you understand them. Understand him.
“He’s always thought he wasn’t good enough. She never told him otherwise.” Your face scrunches up as you try to stop yourself from crying. “None of you did.” You lash out instead. Not by shouting, not by screaming or blaming him. Just simply by saying the things you always wish you had.
“Maybe you’re right.” Deran said and when you look over at him finally, tears in your eyes he looks just as sad.
“You’re all good enough. You and Pope especially.” You smile over at him and he scoffs. He always knew you were his favourite of Pope’s brothers.
“Don’t call him Pope. It’s weird.” He laughs and so do you despite yourself. “Get dressed. You need to get hammered. On me. Come on.”
“No. I can’t.”
“Yes you can. What’s the use of owning a bar if I can’t get one of my favourite people drunk for free?” He doesn’t tell you that Pope made him promise he would look out for you. Make sure you were okay. Talk to you, make you understand what he did was for the best.
All Deran knew was that in no world was it okay for you and Pope to be apart.
You turned down the bar so Deran sat with you outside. You drank beers until, exhausted you passed out after being helped to bed by him.
When he leaves your place he see’s a familiar silhouette at the end of the complex, hidden slightly by the fence in your yard. The perfect spot where said person could see both doors and windows.
He walks up to his brother.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Is she alright?” He doesn’t look away from where your bedroom window is lit up by the dim lamp you always left on when you were alone.
“Of course, she’s not alright man.” Deran says exasperated by the both of you. “Why are you doing this?”
“To keep her safe.” Pope says simply. “So she can have a normal life.”
“A little fucking late, Pope. You’ve loved each other since you were kids. All you’re doing is fucking hurting her.”
He didn’t attack him like Deran expected him to. That made it worse somehow. He just balled up his fist, the hand that was sporting the large gash he’d gotten when he lost it on the poor woman’s car.
She was just wrong time and place. Caught the brunt of his splintering mind as she watched the glass shatter around her. He must have looked every bit the monster he was to her.
He wondered if you were the same. Wrong place. wrong time. All those years ago.
If you hadn’t met the way you did, known him the way you do would you be scared of him? Would you have ran into him on a random afternoon when he lost control?
The pain of the cut reopening, the drip of the blood through his fingers wasn’t enough.
He needed… no deserved to be punished for what he’d done.
“I’m sorry.” Pope whispered. Deran knew it was for you.
“Fuck this.” Deran rolled his eyes and left his brother stood there knowing he would stay stood there all night.
Three months was the longest you hadn’t spoke to Andrew since you’d first met him decades ago.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t still there.
You saw his silhouette everywhere and sure at first you’d thought you were imagining it. Some trick of the mind showing you the thing you most wanted. But it soon became obvious he never really left.
In the way the lightbulbs you kept forgetting to replace suddenly worked again.
The way your gas tank was full when you had left for work earlier to give yourself time to refill because you knew it had been empty.
The way your favourite houseplant had been trimmed, watered and turned towards the sun whilst you forgot. Whilst you were barely taking care of yourself. A sign that someone was rooting for you.
Your ice trays are always full and the tangle of necklaces on your dresser are neatly laid out.
Cash was tucked into bags and jackets that you knew wasn’t there before because he knows you haven’t been using their card.
How could you? It was just a reminder of everything you could never have.
The loose railing at work is fixed within 24 hours when you nearly slip down the stairs one day in a late rush.
Your alarm clock also ran ten minutes early from that day. But maybe you were crazy. Maybe they were just coincidences. But some things were too obvious.
Like he wanted you to know it was him.
You laugh and then break down crying at the sponge from your sink on the windowsill.
He was being less and less conspicuous as time went on.
You’d finally been convinced to go out one night with your friend. Then the guy you’d met last time, the one that Andrew had scared away had been handsy, taken advantage of a drunk heartbroken woman. Lucky nothing more than him groping you had happened before your friend intervened.
The guy had a ‘fall’ that same night.
Ended up in the ER with a broken jaw, ribs and his right hand a mangled mess.
Nobody really approached you after that.
You were glad.
You know the care crosses into control in ways that would only make sense to people who stopped having boundaries with each other a long time ago.
So of course you allowed it.
Because you knew it must be helping him.
You always knew it was him in a crowd, of course you did. As if you wouldn’t know him by the slope of his large shoulders. Even as you noticed them grow larger. The gait of him walking expertly in sync with you in one of those damn hoodies and a cap.
He was as familiar as the sun to you.
Deran told you that Andrew had started fighting again. Cage fighting in those grotty underground fights that Smurf put him in like a dog she wanted to get the aggression out of.
He was the biggest you’d ever seen him. The shadow of him stood at your fence, larger, wider. The way he took up more space in the crowds.
You got stronger too in your own way. You didn’t cry as much. You were still in pain. So much pain you couldn’t get out of bed sometimes but you carried on.
Deep down you believed he would be back.
You just had to survive until then.
You had caved a couple of times. A quick message here and there.
You:
I hope you’re okay.
I miss you.
You:
I’m not mad at you.
I miss you.
If it wasn’t for all the ways he was still so present, for the fact that you knew him better than you knew yourself you’d have left him be.
There was a particularly bad storm one night and when there was a knock at the door your heart stuttered. The second you’d heard the first clap of thunder you’d thought of him.
Knew he’d have thought of you too.
All the times he helped you during those storms. How if the weather report warned of thunder and lightening he would be there with take out and a blanket. How if it came unexpectedly he’d drop everything, within reason to get to you.
You had to force yourself to move. Each step a silent prayer.
You answer the door and immediately burst into tears when you see Deran.
He wraps you in his arms immediately and you cling onto him as he strokes the back of your head.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I should have called first. He told me to come.”
Later when you’re sat on your couch Deran doesn’t dare tell you just how bad it’s actually gotten.
That Pope was borderline suicidal. Reckless and searching for violence in everything.
That he was dazed and barely spoke a word.
That he was basically a shell.
That loosing Lena was enough to break him but loosing you was too much for him.
He knew it wound’t change anything. Would only make shit more painful for the both of you.
“You wanna know a secret?” You ask Deran who nods. “I’m not even scared of storms. I was when I was a kid.” You smile with a far off look in your eyes. “I actually kind of like them now. I just never told him cos I liked that he’d always come. The only time he didn’t was when he was in prison or that time you were all in Mexico.”
Deran just laughs and shakes his head at you. Wraps his arm around your shoulder so you can lean into him.
He had become a rock for you and you for him. He told you more about his life than ever before, to distract you or just because he needed someone you weren’t sure but it helped.
One thing he didn’t tell you was that he had gotten Pope to start working in the bar. Partly to keep him busy.
Partly for free labour. And partly because he was convinced he would eventually be able to convince you to come. He wasn’t sure what kind of cupid shit he was playing at but he was so sure that if you just saw each other… really saw each other you wouldn’t be able to resist.
Andrew had been near you pretty much every day since the last time he saw you. You just didn’t know it.
He’d seen you on your walks, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, and had to resist the urge to pull over and chastise you for not having water.
He’d watched you struggle with the porch light for ten minutes before finally giving up. He came back later that night and fixed it himself.
Sometimes he parked down the street, or stand outside just to watch the silhouette of your body move behind the curtains as you wandered your house unable to sleep.
He knew your routines better than he should have. He always had. He was the type to notice every minuscule detail, any threat anyway but when it came to you it was second nature.
Knew which windows you forgot to lock when you were tired. Knew you never checked the back seat before getting into your car.
Once, during a storm, he drove across at two in the morning because he suddenly remembered the kitchen window over your sink didn’t close all the way. Angry at being too distracted to have fixed it already. He stood in your dark kitchen dripping rainwater onto the floor while he forced it shut. Then he fixed it the next time you were at your parents house visiting.
He replaced the batteries in your smoke detector before they could start chirping because he remembered the way that sound annoyed you.
He started taking the same trail two cars behind yours after a man stared at you for too long one evening.
Your tires never stayed low for long anymore. Your favourite snacks never ran out.
It was pathetic, probably.
The way he still moved through the world like your safety belonged to him. Like loving you had rewired some primitive part of his brain permanently.
Even now, even away from you, he still caught himself scanning parking lots, imagining you walking through them alone. Still checked weather alerts and thought about whether your tires could handle the rain.
Still woke up in the middle of the night certain he’d heard your voice.
But he hadn’t planned for this. Sat at the bar talking to Deran. No doubt a scheme from his younger brother.
He didn’t get it. He didn’t know Smurf had had Baz killed, not definitely. Didn’t see the glint in her eyes as she threatened your safety.
Fury at his brother rose in him until you stood up and he saw you were wearing a new dress. His rage floated away on the hem of it as it brushed just above your knee.
It was a dress he’d never seen before. White cotton. You were slightly more tanned than usual. He had noticed you sat out more now.
His angel.
As always.
You started walking towards the door he was peeping through the window of and he ducked down. He lifted back up just in time to see you disappear into the corridor with the storage room and like a man possessed he followed you.
He see’s the edge of the white dress disappear around the door, he can smell your perfume and remember the way your eyes look into his. Seeing all the things he’s begged people to see before but didn’t. Never mattered as much that they didn’t once you had.
He can’t look into those eyes right now, can’t bare to.
But he needs you. He always will.
Slipping into the room behind you before the door shuts he hears you curse at the loss of light. It makes his chest ache at the thought of you being worried. It’s pitch black but he finds you. Thinks about how he always would.
You gasp as he steps behind you, his chest against your back.
“Shh. It’s just me, sweetheart.” He whispers against your skin as he burrows into your neck. Knowing the hypocrisy of him telling you not to be scared of a monster but you were someone who would never ever need to be scared of him.
“Andrew…” You sigh in relief but his hand slides up to cover your mouth.
“Shh…” He silences you gently, recognises the sad edge in your voice and it will break him.
One solid arm is around your waist until it slides up, over your breasts to rest on your chest, feeling your heart and swearing it beats the same rhythm as his.
His hands are all over you, he fists the cotton skirt of your dress into his hands as he wraps his arms around you. He doesn’t kiss you, just buries his face into the crook of your neck. Over the shell of your ear, your hairline… breathing you in. Three months without you this close felt like another three years. In another life he wouldn’t have left your side for a second.
He’s trembling and you reach down to cover his hands with your own. He lets you lace your fingers with his and he moans softly in your ear at the simple touch.
You don’t stop him when his hands trace patterns on your inner thighs making your knees weak but he just pulls you closer to him. Pushing you softly against the shelving unit. He’s memorising the feel of you under his palms, giving himself this one moment of weakness. If you’ll let him.
There was no question about it. You’d give him anything he wanted if he just stayed. Never wanting the moment to end.
“Miss you…” He murmurs as he pushes his forehead against your shoulder. You try to turn wanting to face him but he doesn’t let you.
“I miss you so much…” Just as much pain in your voice that it makes his eyes and throat burn as he forces away the tears.
The hard lines of his body press against yours and you feel how much more solid he is, bigger than you think you’ve ever known him and you so badly want to look at him. Tell him how good he looks but you don’t want to compliment something caused by his violent distractions.
You slide your hands over the muscles in his forearms instead as he tries to almost fuse your bodies together. One hand slides up his arm to reach behind you and when your fingers stroke through his hair, nails scratching gently into his scalp he turns his face into you, leaving desperate kisses down the back of your neck.
You shiver against him as one of his hands disappears under your skirt to stroke gently just above your panties. That silent question brings tears to your eyes and you nod as you push his hand further down. All the permission he needs and his hand slides into your panties, straight down to your slit.
The noise he let out was low and involuntary. The kind you knew him to make when he was trying his best to behave. He can never believe how wet you are. For him.
You had been the second you felt his chest against your back, heard that rough voice in your ear.
He sucks gently on your neck as you give yourself over to him. He rubs around your slit to gather the wetness, his thick fingers parting your folds, wasting no time before rubbing maddening circles on your clit. You moan and you head falls back onto his shoulder as his other hand joins, fingers delving into you, his strong arms a vice around you, keeping you in place. Keeping you stable.
“Please…” You beg but you aren’t even sure what for. For his words… for an orgasm… for fucking anything from him.
“Can I fuck you? Please.” He asks in a pathetic voice that has you clenching around his fingers. “You can say no. I don’t deserve you… You’re so beautiful.”
“I’m yours, handsome. Always yours.”
Something about that confirmation flicks a switch in him and no sooner has he pulled his hands out of your panties you hear the cling of his belt. His zip lowering before he pushed the skirt of your dress up your back, gently guiding you to bend over slightly.
You’re shaking with need when he pushes into you in one long stroke, knowing you can take him.
“I’m sorry…” He whispers but his voice isn’t as tortured as before.
His pace is fast, frenzied as he fucks into you hard, the new muscle and weight of him behind you, the shelving unit rattling in front of you. You feel him gather the material of your dress, twisting it. Feel it tighten as he wraps it around his wrist and knuckles, using it to pull you back into him.
You can only moan imagining how his hand and arm looks doing it.
He’s whispering incoherent things that you can’t make out, no matter how hard you try to quieten your little gasps every time his hips push against your ass.
“You’re mine. No matter what. You’re mine.” He growls in your ear as he bends over you fisting your ponytail in his hand before straightening back up.
He pulls gently on your ponytail again, drawing you back against his chest until there’s not an inch of space left between you. The sudden closeness punches a helpless sound from your throat. You feel yourself tighten around him instantly.
Even in the dark he knows you’re close.
His hand stays wrapped loosely in your hair, patient, guiding, until your neck arches back fully against him, the crown of your head settling between his broad pecs. You can feel the weight and warmth of him everywhere now. His chest rising behind you with heavy breaths.
If it wasn’t pitch black you know he would be looking down at you, eyes dark and fill of lust.
Then his mouth brushes softly against your forehead.
A kiss so gentle whilst he pounds into you it undoes you completely.
You come with a broken cry, body trembling against his, and he groans quietly at the feeling of it, pulling you even tighter against him like instinct.
“Yeah… that’s it, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your ear, rough voice shaking. “Fuck, you feel so good for me.”
His hand slips from your ponytail only to wrap around you again, secure and heavy, holding you through it while his breathing turns uneven against your skin. You feel yourself getting wetter, gushing as you come around him, milking his cock so well that he can’t help but come inside you.
His cock is pulsing inside you and you whine as you both feel the aftershocks.
He’s collapsed against you, breathing heavily against the nape of your neck leaving kisses wherever he can reach. Allowing himself this time to pretend that nothing else outside of you exists.
“Shit… I’m s…sorry.” You hear him from behind you before he pulls out of you, putting your dress and panties back into place. It feels so unlike what you’re used to from him afterwards. You tense, not even turning, steeling yourself for what you know is coming. The moment he leaves again.
“It’s okay…” You whisper as he fixes himself.
“Im so sorry.” He says softly. He’s just stood there behind you and you spin so quick your weakened legs almost falter but he steadies you. His large hands strong and painfully familiar. You tilt your head up and his lowers, his forehead finding yours like he couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried. And when you both exhale, softly, pure relief he presses his face against yours.
Cheek to cheek like you fit into the indents of him and him to you. His grip tightens on your waist as his lips brush the corner of your mouth ever so slightly but then he pulls away. Abruptly with gritted teeth like it’s painful not to kiss you.
And then he’s gone. He knows he has to before he forgets why he has to.
You stand in the dark hearing him shouting, hear a loud crash from the kitchen and open the door to peek out.
“You don’t get it Deran! She…I CAN’T let anything happen to her. Not because of me.” You hear Andrew shouting before everything goes too quiet for you to hear anything and you use the moment to slip out of the bar.
You don’t cry.
You think about how he’s still there. Still orbiting you in all the ways that matter. Her claws weren’t as deep as you thought.
And for the first time in months, the ache inside you feels a little close to hope.
A lot of surprising things had happened to you in your life. It was anything but boring being so heavily involved with a Cody. But nothing. And you mean nothing had ever surprised you as much as seeing Smurf at your door a few days later.
She’s in a casual grey hoodie. Very unlike herself. She looks worn out.
“How do you know where I live?” Is the only thing you can think of to say.
“Baby I’ve always known where you live.” She scoffs and you can tell she’s a little drunk. Great. She walks into your home like she owns the place in true Smurf fashion. Just side steps past you into your apartment.
What’s Andrews is hers, you suppose.
She looks around before heading to the kitchen and the way she looks around before doing so at least gives you some security that she hadn’t been inside before.
“You win.” She sighs as she drops into one of your dining chairs, the same one Baz had been in. The memory felt like an ice cold rod down your spine.
“What the fuck are you talking about.” You ask you sit across from her. Not wanting her shit. It had been a hard three months.
“He needs you. Not me.” She leans back in her chair before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “He’s been a wreck without you. You might think I’m a selfish bitch but I love my sons. I can’t watch my baby boy like this anymore.”
You study her. The silence long enough for her to need to flick ash into your houseplant twice. The one Andrew had paid special attention to keeping alive you. One thing you had learnt during your time with this family was to never take anything this woman said with face value.
Something had happened. Something that Smurf couldn’t control. Smurf would not be admitting this if not.
“What did you say to him? To make him stay away?” You say it with such certainty that that is the only reason he would have that she rolls her eyes.
She looks mad but there’s something else in her eyes that looks a lot like shame. She just shrugs like she wants it to be known she doesn’t care. That what she’s about to say doesn’t affect her.
“Told him he was going to get you hurt… or killed.” You’d suspected something along those lines. “Told him I’d forget that Lena and you existed if he didn’t see you again and moved back home.”
“Fuck Smurf you never fail to amaze me with how astoundingly fucked up you are.” You knew it was something. But hearing what had made all the progress you’d made crash down broke your heart.
“I have cancer.” She says it like she’s telling you she has a nail appointment.
You freeze. Not sure what to say.
“We might not see eye to eye but Andrew’s gonna need you when I’m gone.” The look in her eye, not vulnerable but as close as she got made you see her in a way you hadn’t for a very long time. A mother. “Sure as hell not leaving him with that junkie Angela.”
“What?” Your heart stutters.
Angela.
You probably hated her only a little less than Smurf. Her and Julia had become friends around the same time you first met Andrew before you’d even met his family. Even from a young age you could read her. Always out for what she could gain. Whether it was Andrew’s violence or Julia’s generosity. The Cody reputation.
She’d kissed Andrew when they were younger since they were the same age. You remembered fully hating her from the second Julia told you about it. She hated you back because Andrew never left your side and that’s what she wanted. She was poison just like Smurf. Just a different strain. Not as potent but still something to avoid.
It didn’t stay a childish hatred though.
She eventually was the reason Julia’s addiction spiralled. She was one of the people who poisoned Julia against you when you were the only one she let help her.
The thought of her around Andrew. Around J made your blood boil.
The glint in Smurfs eyes made it all clear.
“Don’t worry, baby there’s nothing going on there. He’s only ever had eyes for you. She’s just hanging around him, using him for a place to stay. She hasn’t changed. But he’s vulnerable so he can’t see it.”
“That bitch has always been able to smell any vulnerability a mile off.”
Smurf smirks around her cigarette as she nods. As if she’s not exactly the same. Just better at it.
“He’s probably just trying to help her… like he didn’t Julia.”
Smurf smiles. “You’ve always known my Andrew. Only other person besides me who knows what’s going on inside that head of his.” You want to argue.
You don’t.
She can tell you have so much you want to say and aren’t. She laughs again.
“You’re smart. You weren’t like all the other floozies the boys brought home. I liked that.” She stubs out the cigarette in the soil and you immediately pull it out and stand to throw it through the window.
You snort as you sit back down. “You never liked me.”
She just shrugs slightly with a smirk. “And you never liked me.”
“We agree on something then.”
She laughs before she stands up. You had never heard this woman laugh as much in your entire life.
Your eyes meet hers, and something settles between you both. Not a truce exactly. Just an understanding that he was the most important thing.
“Come on. I want that conniving bitch out of my house.”
“I can’t just turn up.” You say. Part of you is worried he will still turn you away through fear.
“Sure you can.” She turns to look at you. Straight faced and serious. “You’re family.” There’s something about the way she says it. Like it’s just a statement or order maybe? To look after him. As if she had ever had to tell you to do that. “I’ll wait in the car.”
“What the fuck.” You whisper as she leaves.
That was never something you thought you’d hear from that woman’s mouth.
“She’ll be in the kitchen making a god damn mess.” Smurf tells you as enter the house. “I’ll be by the pool if you need me.” She says sarcastically. You knew her and you would be business as usual now.
Your heart is racing when you walk into the kitchen. Not sure how the sight of Andrew and Angela would feel. The small insecurity, that what if… what if he didn’t choose you.
The other reason your heart was racing was the fact that you might have Andrew back in your arms tonight. Finally.
The second you saw her, alone, thankfully all you saw was red. She was making herself at home like she always had.
When she spotted you her face fell and you couldn’t help but smirk.
“Miss me?” You say sarcastically.
“Should have known you wouldn’t be gone for long.” She sighs like she’s extremely put out by your appearance. Good.
“Should have known you’d come try to leach of the Cody’s some more.”
“I came to find Julia.”
“Cut the shit. You expect me to believe you didn’t know she was dead?”
“I was in jail.” Her mannerisms were still that of a moody teenage girl and you knew for certain she hadn’t changed.
“Exactly.” You say. It was all the same people, all the same circles of course she heard about her best friend dying. You were livid. “Pack your shit.” You cant deny you have more confidence knowing Smurf agreed.
“No. Pope wants me here.”
You grit your teeth and let out an exhale, trying to stay calm.
“Andrew is trying to be nice to his dead twin sister’s best friend. You know why? Cos he’s actually a good person.”
Angela scoffs.
“Don’t fucking laugh.” You spit. “You don’t know him. You see a place to stay and an easy way to score.”
“I’m sober.” You don’t believe her. You shrug your shoulders and shake your head.
“I honestly don’t give a fuck.” You walk up to her slowly until you’re right in front of her “You’re done using this family.”
“You always thought you were better than us all. You stuck up bitch. Mommy and daddy paid for everything. You’ve no idea what a hard life is. I understand him in a way you never could.”
Angela’s getting angry now and it’s because she knows, she remembers that Andrew has always and will always choose you.
You just shake your head. “You know nothing about me.” Your family were by no means rich, it was always pay check to pay check which is why they couldn’t help you when pope was in prison. You didn’t want them worrying. “It’s actually Andrew that pays for everything. Won’t take no for an answer.” You grin as she looks at you like she wants to claw at you.
He doesn’t. Not everything but she doesn’t need to know that and you just want to make her mad.
“Pack. Your. Shit.” You growl, a glare Andrew would be proud of. “Or I’ll do it.”
“You’re a fucking bitch. Julia always hated you.”
“No she didn’t.” You laugh in her face because you know it’s not true. You loved Julia. And she had loved you.
Andrew and Julia’s bond went beyond anybodies, you’d always known that. Never tried to touch it. She was just happy to have someone else who cared about him.
“You better get out of my face, sweetie you’ve no idea what I’ve had to do to survive in the last two years.” Angela says.
“Make me.” You say and just as Angela pulls back her arm Andrew’s large figure appears behind her grabbing her arm with a grip that makes her cry out.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growls.
It’s the first time you’ve seen him in three months and instantly you notice how sad he looks. How the scowl that he wore around everyone else had deepened. Noticed the faded bruise on his cheekbone and the healing cut above his eyebrow.
You were right. He is bigger. More solid. He uses that strength as he drags Angela into one of the bedrooms you assume she’d been staying in and pushes her in so hard she bounces off the wall. “You heard her… pack your shit.” He slams the door behind her so hard you feel the floor shake.
And then he walks back over to you looking you up and down. Making sure you’re okay. Making sure you’re real after aching for you every second you were apart. You close the gap between you both, reaching out for him.
You feel like you’re back where you both started as he looks at you with those sad eyes like he’s expecting you to laugh and tell him you’re joking. He looks every bit the kicked puppy backed into a corner unsure if the hand reaching was to harm or to heal.
You could tell the last few months, loosing Lena, loosing you, Smurfs manipulation back tenfold only to find out she had cancer had splintered his mind in some way.
The confidence you’d helped him build piece by piece gone and all you could think was where to start. How to build him back up like you had done time and time again. His eyes fall shut as he pushes his face into your palm.
“I thought you said she doesn’t get to say how things are supposed to be, huh?” Angela’s agitating voice comes from behind him and he tenses. His hands going to your waist, he doesn’t even turn to acknowledge her, just makes sure he’s blocking you. “But she is?”
“I think you already got your answer.” Smurf says from the open door. You can only imagine how pleased with herself she looks. Andrew does move then, turns instinctively to face her not letting you move beside him when you try.
“You guys are still just as fuckin’ weird.” Angela shouts, defeated. You watch her leave, glaring back her.
The front door slams.
“Hallelujah.” Smurf sighs. “Well done, baby.” Only then does Andrew let you step out beside him. A confused look on his face. You look down at the floor suddenly feeling like you had betrayed him in some way by helping Smurf. But you would explain.
“You don’t need to worry, okay baby?” She’s talking to Andrew now. “Our deal still stands.” She looks over at me. “But me and her have our own now.”
You nod slowly. Unsure if you’d done the right thing.
When she leaves you turn to him wringing your hands. “I’m sorry.” You say. “I know this must look…”
“I heard everything you said to Angela.” He says simply. His mouth pinches up in one corner, his eyes worried. “You aint got to be sorry… I do…”
You shake your head pulling him into you, hands stroking through his hair and rubbing his back comfortingly.
“Shhh… it’s okay, handsome.” You shush him. His arms just hang by his sides but not in a way that he doesn’t want to hold you. Just that he doesn’t feel like he deserves to and you realise you’ve really got your work cut out for you this time. “She told me everything.”
He cries as his arms finally wrap around you so tightly that momentarily the air pushes out of you but you say nothing. Just hold him.
As you turn your head in the embrace you see Smurf outside laid on her sun lounger, bathed in darkness. Her face remains unreadable, but the resignation in her eyes is impossible to miss. The kind that comes from realizing some things were decided long before you ever tried to stop them.
You and Andrew had woven yourselves too tightly into each other to ever come apart cleanly.
Before We Knew Better 7 | Andrew 'Pope' Cody x reader
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Masterlist
Summary: When Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody was taken into care Smurf pulled some strings and got him put in a place close to Oceanside. That place was with you and your parents. Something Smurf would later regret when she realised that the bond you and Andrew forged in the month he was there was never going away. The years went by and the older boy became your best friend. Your protector. Your person. Fast forward and when Andrew gets out of prison he finds out Smurf’s hatred for you has gone to a whole other level.
Pairing: Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x reader
Warnings: smut, ANGST, slight sub andrew no squinting needed, smurf, mental illness.
A/N: sorry this one took a little longer it was actually a hard one because I had a really particular idea of it all in my head. thanks as ever for all your feedback. welcome to the taglist. hope you enjoy! SPOILERS for season 3 if you haven’t watched it. next chapter is taking us into season 4. also sorry.
When something falls apart people try to find the fault, the cause. They follow the loose thread to find where it fell apart, the place where everything started to unravel.
The problem was you were meticulously following multiple threads. Frantically retracing steps of moments in hope that it was something you might be able to fix.
The first incident you recalled with some warped sense of happiness despite the situation.
Andrew
Be ready in 10.
Need you to come with me to Lena’s school.
You were out front waiting within minutes, heart racing as your brain seemed to come up with all the worst case scenarios of what could have happened. Andrew doesn’t bother parking up when he sees you he just stops abruptly and leans over to open the door, pushing it open.
“What happened?” You ask as you climb in.
“I’m not sure yet. They just said they need to discuss an incident with me. She’s not hurt, I asked. Sounds like she’s done something.” He fills you in as he starts driving. There’s a look in his eyes that he has when he’s out of his depth. When he reminds you most of the kid version of him you met. When he needs you most.
Give the man a gun, a mask and a highly illegal, dangerous situation he’s fine. Completely in control.
Put the same man in the principles office of a fancy private school talking about his Niece misbehaving and he’s lost.
You reach over to hold onto his arm as his hands grip the steering wheel. Your thumb stroking, just a gentle reminder that you’re there.
The principle introduces himself and Andrew shakes his hand.
“Andrew.” You watch him rigidly introduce himself before turning to you. “This is my wife.” He says it so abruptly, so without emotion your brain takes a moment to catch up, so does your heart.
Looking back you don’t know how you kept a straight face as you shook the principles hand with a smile. A very wide inappropriate smile considering the circumstances.
And Andrew had brought you to be the seemingly normal one.
You straightened your face, your only reaction was side eyeing Andrew as you both followed him into the office. He wouldn’t look at you.
You didn’t have much more time to think on it when you see the blonde plait on the desk your eyes widen and your heart sinks. This was worse than you thought. You had assumed maybe some silly argument or slight push in the playground not this.
You glance over at Andrew as the Principle explains the incident. That Lena cut the plait off. That the girl was obviously heartbroken and how Lena had just stood staring at the girl, no expression.
It reminded you of the many incidents her Uncle had been involved in at school and the slippery slope Lena was now on simply being a Cody by name and blood.
“We care about Lena’s well-being. But we need to get to the root of this aggression.” You nod along, the face of a concerned guardian whilst Andrew schooled his own expression into a natural one. Despite the fact you knew he was disappointed, in himself more than anything. “I spoke to Clarissa’s parents, they’re not gonna press charges. But I think we can all agree that this isn’t acceptable behaviour.”
“This… it’s not like her.” Andrew responds, the look in his eye is one that says he wants to tell him to fuck off. “ She just… she just lost both of her parents.”
“What kind of grief counselling is she receiving?”
The second the Principle said this you felt like kicking yourself. Of course that was the first thing that should have been done. It just wasn’t something your family or Andrew’s went straight to and so it hadn’t even crossed your mind. You weren’t about to let him know that though.
“She should be talking to someone. It would help.”
“She doesn’t need a shrink.” Andrew said, defensively.
“I think what my husband means is…” You start, a sad smile on your lips and an almost pleading look in your eye. You needed this guy to believe Lena was in good hands because she was. “We’re looking for some alternate routes, ones less clinical. It’s taking us a little while to find the right fit but we really don’t want to put any pressure on Lena right now.”
He considers you for a moment. Then he smiles and nods. Asks you what alternatives you’ve been thinking and you remember seeing his name on the door. Dr Cooperman. Shit. You make it work. Tell him you think art therapy is a good fit for Lena and that you’d been struggling to find someone reputable.
You leave his office with a phone number for his recommendation but Lena’s still suspended and Andrew is still worried sick.
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” He says as you are all settled in the car. He’s breathless and you know he’s spiralling. “You cut her hair?! We can’t do this by ourselves, we need your help! I don’t know what to do. You gotta act right. You can’t make shit wo…”
“Andrew.” You say simply. Your voice is soft but stern. He closes his eyes. “Take a breath.” He takes a deep breath.
“Do you know how hard it was for me to get you in here?” He speaks but this time he’s calmer.
“I don’t want to be here.” Lena says from the back seat.
“You do!” Andrew’s voice raising again makes you sigh. You want to step in but he is her Uncle and you never know how far you can go when it comes to her discipline.
“I’m sorry.” Lena’s little voice breaks you and you turn in your seat to look at her.
“We know you are. Uncle Pope’s not mad at you okay. He’s just worried.” You reassure. “Right?” You ask Andrew as you turn to him. He looks exhausted. Scared. Like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and all you want to do is hold him. Andrew nods and agrees with a quiet, “yeah.” He starts the engine and drives you all to Lena’s house.
Wrapped in a blanket sat on the couch later that night, animal documentary on the tv and your legs draped over Andrew’s lap he finally looks somewhat relaxed. One hand grips your thigh as the other grazes your calf leisurely with his knuckles.
“So…” He looks at you, notices your tone straight off the bat and knows what you’re going to say. A look of amusement behind his steady stare. “Wife.”
“I just thought… it would… you know…” You tilted your head, one eyebrow arched, clearly amused that he couldn’t quite say what he meant, “I thought it would help if we seemed… normal.”
You assumed as much but you can’t help some disappointment.
“Yeah. I get it.” You send him a small smile to let him know it was okay. “I mean you could have warned me. We’ve danced around each other for so many years and straight to wife.” You joke.
“It’s not that big a jump.”
The words hit you so hard you almost missed them.
He says it casually, eyes already back on the television, thumb rubbing once against your thigh like he hasn’t just shifted the ground beneath your feet.
You can’t think of a single clever thing to say back and then his grip on your thigh squeezes. He knows exactly what he’s done.
The second thread. The one you always knew was inevitable happened on an evening you had Lena alone. Andrew was on another job. He’d pulled a couple close together recently and you were more than happy to have Lena. It was just harder when she was suspended and you had to fill the days.
“Nina bear!” You heard Lena shout from her bedroom as you tidied up from dinner. You walk in to see her, tears filling her eyes which of course made you panic. The kid hardly ever cried.
“What is it?”
“I can’t find Nina bear.” The teddy she could never be separated from was not something negotiable to her.
“Where did you last have it?”
“This morning at Grandma Smurfs.” You sigh heavily. You had gone to pick up Lena’s favourite swimming costume before going to the beach. Andrew had told you all about Deran’s Dad, Billy and his girlfriend and the disgusting pool. Advising you not to go there. You didn’t need to be told twice.
Frankie, Deran’s dad’s girlfriend was there. Still sleeping beside the pool her and her drug addict boyfriend were squatting by. She had offered to watch Lena for you anytime. You’d politely declined and hurried Lena out of the house. Leaving Nina bear behind.
Both you and Andrew were on high alert after child services had approached him and Lena. It didn’t surprise you the school had reported the incident and any concerns but you felt a sense of responsibility. Everything had to be perfect now,
You deliberated on it but knew there wasn’t another option than to go and get the damn bear, Praying to god that Billy wasn’t there.
You hadn’t seen him since your were like thirteen and had no interest in doing so. He’d always taken joy in messing with Andrew. That had included messing with Julia and you to get him mad.
On the drive over you wonder if this is the best plan. The Cody house was one you never quite knew what you would be walking into. You park up and get Lena out of the car. You decide to knock rather than walking straight in, at least that way you can lower the risk of her seeing something she should’t.
You’re surprised when Frankie comes out of the back.
“Hey…”
“Nobody back yet?” You ask her.
She has a weird smile on her face and you just assume she’s high or drunk so you walk past her into the back to get in through the kitchen.
You can almost fell it again, the slow motion sinking of your heart, the way she turned with that awful smirk.
“Grandma Smurf!” Lena is excited and rushes over, jumping into her arms.
Of course she was out of jail. She comes back every time, like a bad dream.
You and Andrew had had the conversation. Had no real proof but you both knew it was her.
Smurf killed Baz. Something about that made you both more on edge. Like nobody was safe.
“We just came for Nina bear.” Your voice sounds distant. Your face clear that not one part of you is happy to see her.
“Now that’s a welcome!” Smurf says happily at Lena’s little arms around her waist. Her hand was laid on top of the little girls head like she cared but she just stared at you. Looking like an evil queen from a Disney movie. “She might as well stay now she’s here. Right Lena?” She says.
“Actually Lena was just getting in bed when we realised we forgot Nina bear.” Your voice is steady but your hands are shaking. From shock or the fear of how much her being out will change, for you, Andrew and Lena, you aren’t sure. “Come on, Lena.”
Lena, to your surprise does exactly as you say. Smurf does’t like it.
“Go grab Nina bear.” She walks out and you look back at Smurf. “She’s not staying here.”
Smurf just looks you up and down, venom in her eyes.
“Baby, I know you aren’t telling me what to do with my Granddaughter.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” You say bravely as you walk up to her. There’s something inside you that you never expected. A kind of maternal instinct to protect that little girl you hadn’t counted on being so strong. Sure you cared about her but you were ready to go to war for her. And Andrew.
“I think you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to.” She says as she pushes off the counter and get’s in your face.
“No.” Your voice is low, taunting. Exactly what you know gets to her. “I know exactly who I’m speaking to. I see straight through you. I always have.”
“What’s going on?” Andrews voice has you relaxing but only slightly. .
Smurfs attitude switched up quickly, as always as she turned and saw Andrew, Craig and J stood at the doorway. She moved away from you and you took the opportunity to walk around the other side of the counter to Andrew. He held out his hand as you approached, pulling you behind him as you grabbed it.
Lena pottered out with Lena bear and another two teddies she’d dug out and Andrew opens his other arm to her, she tucks into his side.
The message is clear and Smurf receives it.
“She left Nina bear… she was here when we came.” You whisper in his ear. He turns his head only slightly to catch what you’re saying, keeping Smurf in his eye line as she says hello to Craig and J in the creepiest way possible.
“It’s okay.” He says softly, squeezing your hand. It felt like he meant more than tonight, more than that moment. That you would all be okay.
And you’d believed him.
He carried Lena to the car after telling Smurf, no argument allowed, you were taking Lena home. Once he’d buckled her in and shut her door he turned to you, one hand on your waist, the other coming up to cup your jaw.
“Are you alright?”
“Of course.” You nod but you can’t even convince yourself. You hadn’t known at the time that you had every reason to feel that way. That everything was about to come crashing down.
“I’ll be home as soon as I can okay.” He says, in that soft warm voice that comes so naturally to him around you. “I just gotta play along.”
“I know.” You nod, grabbing at the edges of his open shirt.
He bumps his forehead into yours gently to make you look up at him and when you do his lips gently press against yours. It’s gentle and he tilts his head slightly as your lips slide against each others he coaxes your mouth open and you pull him into you by his shirt. His tongue pushes into your mouth and although you know Lena can’t see you from this angle. Just her Uncles back, you pull away.
“Don’t be long.” You say your voice almost a whine. His eyes full of lust.
“I won’t.” He breathes before reaching around you to open your car door. “Let me know you get home safe.” He passes you the seat belt once you’re sat and watches you buckle in before leaning into the car to look at Lena.
“Be good for your Aunt.” He says before kissing your temple and shutting the door.
He waves at you both as you reverse onto the road and drive off.
“That was gross.” Lena said from the back seat, making you laugh.
It felt like a family. Despite the reappearance of Smurf he was being just the same as before, no pulling back and it sparked that hope even more.
When he gets home that night Lena is fast asleep. He locks the door before turning to you, expression tight, he looks exhausted. You only need to open your arms from your place on the sofa and he’s there. Burying his head in your neck as he wraps his arms tightly around your waist.
You don’t say anything. No need to ask if he was okay. Everything was a mess. Smurf being out again, back manipulating every situation only making everything harder. He just holds you tighter, seeking comfort. “Can we…” The rest of the sentence was muffled as he presses closer into you.
“What handsome?” You ask.
“Can we just… not talk about it tonight?” His voice is hoarse with emotional strain. You can only imagine the conversations had around that dinner table tonight. He kisses your neck gently, needing distraction, needing to be close to you more than anything else right now. His hands start to roam under your shirt almost instinctively.
And you let him because nothing needs to be said right now. You feel him smile, just a faint relieved one as he presses his forehead against your collarbone. His hands come up to your sleep shirt to unbutton it. He doesn’t need to ask for what he needs, you recognised it in him the second he stood there looking so defeated.
Pushing up your bra he latches onto your nipple and you have to hold your breath to not moan loudly. He groans low in his throat and you let him play with your tits his hips rutting up against nothing before one of his hands starts to slide down to you pants.
“Wait… wait…” You whisper pushing him back slightly. You’re very conscious of Lena’s bedroom being not too far away despite her being fast asleep but there’s nowhere else you can go. “Can’t do that here.”
“Fuck…” He whines.
“Sit back, handsome.” Kissing him softly you push him to sit back on the sofa. “It’s okay. I’ll still look after you.” There was something about these moments, when he let you take care of him, that feeling of being needed that you loved. The fact that he let you, only you take care of him this way was addictive. Not even just sexually but emotionally. While he took care of you so well, it was nice to be able to return the favour.
You turn off the tv, so the room is dark except for the moonlight streaming in through the windows as you kneel to take off his boots and pull off his jeans and underwear. You settle beside him as he spreads out his legs without thinking about it, an invitation.
He trusts you. With everything.
You cover both of you with your blanket and sit sideways, one leg over his. You stroke his forehead, pushing back some of the hair before gently scratching at the base of his neck. The blanket hides everything and you feel like a teenager again, fumbling under the blankets with the same man you now loved like it was your calling.
He watches you with half-lidded eyes, still tense but relaxing into you as your other hand trails down his chest, pushing up his t shirt. Your hand trails over his chest and torso before making it’s way to his cock, already hard. He’s letting out little pants and you bite your lip to stop yourself making those noises.
When you wrap your hand around his cock his breath catches sharply. He’s sensitive right now, emotionally and physically. You know he needs some kind of a release, an escape. You spit on your other hand before moving it to join the one which starts to slowly move up and down his cock. He lets out a low groan muffled against your shoulder as your hands start to move in opposite directions, twisting and squeezing just how you know he likes it.
“Fuck…” He whimpers with need as he fumbles to push your shirt out of the way again, palming your bare breasts. “Please…” he pants, arching into your hands.
“What do you need, handsome?” You ask moving closer so that he can reach you easily. His mouth finds you nipple immediately, desperate as his other hand keeps kneading your other. All the while your hands never stop moving, a steady rhythm that makes his breath ragged against your sensitive skin.
“I need…” a soft moan cuts him off and you let one of your hands dip down to stroke his balls. “I need to come… so bad.”
“I know…” You say in a soft voice that drives him crazy. Makes him feel loved, safe, cared for. “I’ve got you. Does it feel good?” You whisper as you leave soft kisses against his cheek, jaw and neck making his entire body shudder.
The contrast between the soft, sweet kisses and the firm way you’re jerking his cock makes his head spin. A rough, almost helpless sound escaped him. “Yes…”
Although you can’t see his face properly you can see pure ecstasy there. Completely lost in the sensation. Exactly where you wanted him. Whimpering openly, something he would never do in front of someone else but with you he can be anything he needs to be.
“Please…” He begs as the hand still on his cock speeds up ever so slightly, your thumb circling his tip, spreading the pre around. His eyes roll back at the feeling, his balls tightening at the sensation. So sensitive he can’t help but snap his hips up, his cock sliding through your hand rapidly now. “Im gonna…”
The pathetic whispered whimper he lets out when you slow down almost makes you come on the spot. “No… please…” His voice is breaking, he’s trying so hard to stay quiet, even lifting his fist to bite down on as his head falls back on the couch, eyes squeezed shut. “Let me come…”
“I will handsome. Just not yet, okay?” You whisper. “You gonna be good and wait for me?”
His entire body is shaking with need now even as he nods his head desperately because at this point he would do anything for you. Completely under your control and wanting it no other way. “Yes… yes… I’ll wait… just please.” He’s practically sobbing now, his cock throbbing in your hand and you gently squeeze his balls.
“Good boy.” You cooed and he melts at the praise. You had always known that breaks him every time. He knows what you’re doing. Getting him back for last time you’d had sex when he had controlled everything. You’d loved every second but that didn’t mean you didn’t want some payback. And he was taking it beautifully.
“Please… I’ll be good…” It comes out as a broken whisper as you never stop moving your hands, just slower.
“So good…” You kiss him deeply. “You’re always so good to me.” His lips part kissing you back hungrily. “You’re doing so good.”
He’s so close now you can tell and you speed back you. His mouth hangs open, letting out a noise so needy you can see he gets embarrassed.
“I love it when you make those noises for me.” You say reassuringly.
His eyes squeeze shut as he tries to hold back. “Please… let me come.”
“Are you gonna be quiet for me?” He doesn’t answer you, he’s too close, nodding his head frantically. “Use your words, handsome.” You say teasingly, exactly as he had done to you, as you slow your hand down.
His face contorts with frustration as more needy sounds leave him. The usual stoic, capable man everyone else see’s vanished and at your mercy. “No no no no no no…” He whimpers his hips stuttering. “I’ll be quiet.”
You speed up again and one of his hands finds your breasts agains, his grip almost on the verge of painful but it only makes you more turned on. “There’s my good boy.”
You whisper but barely finish the sentence before you feel him tense beside you, your hands never stopping. His cock pulses in your hand as he suppresses a strangled cry against your neck and his hot cum spills onto your hand.
“So good…” Your praise washes over him as he nuzzles weakly into skin. “You look so fucking hot right now.”
He’s spent. Head falling back looking wrecked. From what you can make out his eyes are glassy, chest heaving. He looks vulnerable, completely open for you, a version of him you hold so close to your heart. One you will always look after.
You smile down at him adoringly. You’re so turned on but you don’t care. He needed to be taken care of and you were more than willing to do it. “Stay there handsome. Don’t move.”
He whines softly as you move away from him, finding your way to the bathroom in the dark. Cleaning up you also grab one of your small towels and wet it. When you make your way back to him his eyes are closed and you smile softly before cleaning him up. There was no doubt that usually he would have showered. You’re not sure if he’s just too tired or letting himself surrender to your care, either way you’re glad he looks ready to sleep.
Emotional and physical exhaustion of the day taking over.
He’s practically purring as you clean him up. You shush him and kiss him gently. Once you’re done you pass him his underwear, which he sleepily pulls on as you discard the towel. You lay down in the corner of the couch and open your arms to him. “Mmm…” he murmurs.
“I know.” You say comfortingly as he settles against you, face nuzzling into your chest.
He mumbles a soft I love you against your skin and you murmur the same against his temple. His strong arm tightens around you and you’d have done anything to stay like that.
But the third and final thread wasn’t far away. And so the next morning when he kissed you again when Lena wasn’t looking you let yourself believe that this wasn’t playing house anymore. This was the dream. Everything you’d ever wanted with him.
How stupid you’d been.
He was beside himself when you got home, grocery bags filling your arms, holding everything him and Lena had asked for. You discard them on the couch, not caring when you see him bent over the kitchen counter, eyes red rimmed from crying.
“They took her.” His voice is steady.
“What?” You’re frozen as much as you want to comfort him.
“DCFS. They fucking took her! They took Lena!” He cries out.
You knew as soon as you’d saw him.
“I’m gonna get her back.” He says and you’re not sure if he’s convincing himself or you.
You just nod, not knowing what to say. Knowing it wasn’t that easy.
“Don’t worry.” He says, a worrying edge to his voice. One he gets when he looses grip on reality. He walks up to you and grabs your face, kissing you. It’s rushed and unfeeling and you almost want to wipe it off. “I’ll get her back.”
And then he’s gone and you’re left stood there.
Playtime over.
You look at the groceries on the sofa before picking the bags up and putting them away numbly. Because you knew. You knew it would never be the same again.
Lena was gone. The little girl you’d come to love was gone.
You’d stayed at Lena’s house as long as you could, hoping he would come back. He didn’t. He didn’t answer your calls either and you knew what he was doing. Blocking it all out, focusing on getting her back. You could only pray that that didn’t mean doing anything stupid.
When he strolls into your apartment two days later, its late at night and you’re in bed. He’s limping and holding his ribs.
“What the fuck.” You gasp.
“It’s nothing.” He brushes you off and you watch him, slack jawed as he grabs a towel and walks back out of the room.
“Like fuck it is. You disappear for two days. Deran sends me some cryptic message that you’re ‘okay’ but can’t get to your phone and you turn up like this?” You follow him into the bathroom and despite being annoyed you help him lift his shirt off.
“Lucy…” He says with a grimace as he pushes off his pants. “She kidnapped me.” He says it so blasé you almost think he’s joking as he casually gets into the shower.
You sigh heavily, pinching your nose. You don’t even know what to fucking say. You’d been a wreck since he walked out after telling you about Lena. As much as you understood how upset he was, you cared about her too. And him.
“Why?”
“Her brothers dead.” He says, his voice echoing from the cubicle. “Shoot out went bad.”
“Is this Smurf?” You ask, knowing beyond doubt it would be her doing.
He doesn’t reply. The silence stretched on as he washes. You have your answer. He gets out of the shower, towel wrapped around his hips just standing in front of you but he doesn’t look at you.
You can tell he’s holding back again and it makes you feel sick.
“You know I miss Lena too.” Your voice shakes and his shoulders drop, sadness finally breaking onto his face.
“I know.” Is all he reply’s. “And I told you I’m gonna get her back.” He walks out of the bathroom and you follow.
You always follow him.
“You can’t do anything stupid, Andrew promise me?”
He just gets some clean clothes out of his drawer he’s had at your place for as long as you can remember. Even while he was in prison you’d kept it stocked, re washed the clothes whenever they lost the smell of your detergent. Except for that one t shirt of his. That smelt like him for only the first year.
“I’m not. I know where she is now.” He still won’t look at you. He’s dressed again, but in shorts and you wonder if he’s going to leave.
“Fuck… Andrew you know that could hurt your chances at getting her back.” You say, softer, heart melting imagining how often he’s probably been sat on the street.
“I’m not going to get her back. Of course I’m not!” His voice breaks as though it’s the first time he’s really let himself hear it.
You swallow against the lump in your throat.
It was the truth. He was a convicted felon. Nobody was going to give Lena to him.
“I could.” You say in a quiet voice.
“What?” He asks turning around.
“I could get her back.” It’s your turn to not look at him. “I could adopt her.”
“Sweetheart…” He finally touches you, cradling your face in his hand. “There isn’t anyone that doesn’t know you’d be doing it for me.”
“No…” You say weakly because it’s true. It wound’t just be for him, you loved Lena. You missed her so much you ached. He was right of course. You were in all of Andrews records. Intertwined in ways you didn’t even realise.
“Fuck…” He steps away like you’ve burned him. “I fuck everything up!” You sit on the bed tiredly.
“No you don’t, Andrew.” But as he looks at you, drained and heartbroken it only spurs on his breakdown. You stand back up wanting so bad to help him. He steps away, his face ashamed.
“Andrew…” It’s a plea. For him to come back. To see you. See you are right here. You don’t hate him or blame him. Everything he is telling himself. “Come on, handsome.” His head dips at the sound and you turn off the light, climbing into bed. Nothing good would come of this.
You’re both tired.
“We’ll just sleep, okay.” You soothe.
He does a small nod, his mouth dipping down at the edges the way it does when he’s trying not to cry. He gets into bed and pulls you to him until you’re tucked into his side completely.
You don’t know how long you both lie there for but the heat of him, his soft breaths eventually lull you to sleep.
He’s gone in the morning.
Andrew:
Meet me at Baz’s.
30 minutes.
The message takes you by surprise and honestly after the week you’d had you dread to think what it could be so you leave straight away.
They’re already there when you walk in and Andrew looks the calmest you’ve seen him in a while. When Lena walks out of her bedroom you realise why.
She greets you happily, running up to you and you lift her into your arms.
“Lena!” You almost cry. Andrew is looking over at you with a smile, two duffle bags on the counter. “What’s going on?” You ask suspiciously.
“Lena go pack.” Andrew tells her.
“I don’t want to.” Lena says and your heart sinks. What had he done?
He gestures for you to come closer to him and you do, stroking Lena’s head as you walk past her. When you reach him he pulls you in so he can whisper to you. “Smurfs adopting her.”
You pull back to see he’s serious.
“Can’t let that happen.”
Smiling reassuringly over at Lena you grab onto his arm softly. “I agree… but what are you doing?”
“We’re running away.” Lena pipes up. “I don’t want to run away.”
“We’re not. We’re just… we’re just taking a trip.” He responds like he’s not talking about kidnap. Again. “Lena we need an adult moment here can you just go and grab some clothes please.”
She sighs but walks into her room.
“I’ve got everything.” He tells you as he pulls out three passports, a couple of licenses and birth certificates. “Had it a while… just in case.”
“Andrew!” You gasp. “What the fuck!”
He looks worried, like he wasn’t expecting that reaction from you.
“We can be a family.” He says with a look in his eyes that haunts you now. Hope. “I love you.” He reaches up to play with your hair. “I can’t live without you.”
Tears fill your eyes, overcome with emotion. Overcome by the fact that he’s finally saying everything you’ve ever wanted to hear but it’s in such a fucked up context. It felt more like necessity than reality and it broke something in you.
How badly you wanted this. To hear those words from him. To have a family with him. But not like this.
Looking back you wish you’d said yes. You could have been in Mexico by now… or somewhere further. You’d never gotten the chance to ask him. You knew he loved you. Even knew he couldn’t live without you but this wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen.
The decision was taken out of your hands when Lena spoke again, having left her bedroom without either of you noticing.
“Where would we live?”
“Someplace great.” He says, looking at you questioningly. Like you’ve broken his trust somehow.
It was times like this when you thought you saw why other people thought he was crazy. When kidnapping a child and living the rest of your life with fake aliases was completely normal to him.
“Where would I go to school?”
You wipe the tears that fell from your cheeks as you turn to face the little girl you had grown to love, who you wanted a life with, with all your heart.
“We’ll figure it out when we get there.” He says as he zips up a duffle.
“Me and Bella had bunk beds and a trampoline.” Lena recalled with a happiness in her voice that had you fighting away more tears.
“Bella?” Andrew asked. Realisation hit him and you knew exactly what he was thinking as he turned to look at you. “The foster family.” You wipe away more tears as you see him soften. See him realise. He turns back to Lena. “You liked them, huh?”
“We were gonna be sisters.”
“You have a family. We’re your family.” He says.
“But I make you sad.” You’d always known Lena was astute but that one observation made you realise she saw way more than she ever made you aware of.
“What are you talking about? I’m not sad.” He says but the pause before he said it showed it hit him.
“You’re always sad.”
He sighs and looks at you. He was still torn you could tell, even though he knew what the right thing to do was. What he had to do. What you both had to do despite not wanting to.
Let her go. Let her have a chance at a normal life.
“Lena…” You say as you walk over to her and kneel down in front of her. “Did you ever hear about how me and Uncle Pope met?”
She shakes her head.
“When Uncle Pope was just a little older than you Smurf got sick.” You obviously wasn’t going to tell her the real reason Andrew had ended up with your family. “And he needed someone to take care of him for a while. That just so happened to be my parents. We took real good care of you, didn’t we Uncle Pope?” You look back at him and him nods rubbing his damp eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
“The best.” His voice even rougher than usual.
You remember the way he watched your parents read you bedtime stories, like it was strange. The way they wouldn’t shout or hit. Just calmly explain to him why what he did was wrong. The way he would tense up when your Mom innocently touched his shoulder and the way he leaned in to it by the time he left. The way any time a man came in the house he would glare at them, put himself between you and any stranger because in his house he wasn’t guaranteed safety the way he was at yours.
“What happened when Grandma Smurf was better?” Lena asked.
“Then he went home. And we were all real sad to see him go. But you know how Uncle Pope is. He snuck round all the time because he loved it with us. And we were best friends.”
“I love Bella.” She says, sad eyes looking up at her Uncle and as you turn you see him nodding.
He knew what he needs to do. No matter how much it hurt you both it was best for Lena if she went back to her foster family. Out of Smurfs grasp.
Upon deliberation you’d always come back to the same two questions when looking back on that moment. What would Andrew be like now if he’s stayed with your family? Was the damage already too deep or could he have had a chance at a normal life. The life he deserved.
And what would life look like if you’d just gone with him.
Saying goodbye to Lena was hard but you promised to visit her. And you would. You had no choice, she was entwined in your life now.
She couldn’t be another loose thread.
You would’t allow it.
That night you woke up to Andrew sat in his chair. Watching you sleep.
“Andrew? Are you okay?” You ask sleepily as you sit up and turn on the lamp beside your bed.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
You assume he’s taking about Smurf or the jobs or just life in general because in no lifetime could you have imagined what he said next.
“I’ve been fooling myself. Lena’s better off without me and so are you.” His voice sounds void of all emotion until he pauses, takes a deep breath like he’s steeling himself for something. “I’m sorry but I can’t see you anymore.”
“What?” You shake your head and go to get out of bed.
“Don’t.” He says it so harshly you can’t help the tears that fill your eyes. You feel like all you ever do anymore is cry. “This should have happened a long time ago. I can’t give you what you deserve.”
All the progress you’d made came crashing down. Smurf being back was no coincidence. She’d gotten in his head somehow, poisoned it the way only his mother could.
“Andrew, what’s she said?”
“I’ve been selfish. You should have a normal life by now. A husband… someone who isn’t… bad.” He swallows. “Kids…”
“You’re not bad, Andrew please talk to me. Think about what you’re saying. Just try to remember everything we’ve talked about. For me.” You can’t help it, you get off the bed to walk over to him but he stands and darts to the other side of the room, like touching you would be painful.
“Still use the card… I’ve paid another six months on this place and ill check with the landlord if you’re extending your contract.” He’s talking like it’s just a business transaction.
“No!” You shout angry now, tears streaming down your face, pooling on your collarbone. “Please don’t do this, Andrew.”
“It’s for the best.” His voice is rough, like the words are burning on the way out.
“Look at me Andrew!” You beg, your voice shaking with sadness and anger.
He doesn’t look at you. Just walks out of the room. You follow him to see him looking at the picture of you both above the side table as he removes your apartment key and leaves it on the side table. You know he’ll have another one somewhere.
You know this isn’t real.
Can’t be real.
“Please don’t do this.” You cry and you see him grip the side table so hard it creaks. “Andrew whatever it is. We can fix it. Okay.”
It's so fast you don't see it coming when he picks up the side table and throws it at your front door with a roar of anger and pain that makes you sob harder.
He's breathing hard, chest heaving, seething with rage. Then he just goes to leave.
When the doors open you call his name weakly one more time and he waits.
“I need you to know that I’m not mad at you okay.” You see his shoulders fall and bend forward like he’s collapsing, holding himself up with the door and for a second you think he’s going to turn around and grab you. Tell you he’s sorry and kiss the tears away.
But he doesn’t. The door clicks shut.
You fall to your knees in place. You don’t remember how long you stayed there.
But you hadn’t left the apartment for three days now. Splinters of wood still littering your hallway. Not because you’re lazy but because it’s something of him. Even if it is his anger and pain. You couldn't make it make sense. You couldn't accept it.
You pace, you cry, you leave unanswered messages until you just stop.
You keep pulling at every thread thinking that if you found the right one, you could stitch everything back together.
But some things don't come apart cleanly.
And some things, once unraveled, don't want to be fixed at all.
Hello, how are you? The truth is that your story is one of the best I've read about Pope. I honestly love it and you write so well that I read it like 3 times already. I can't wait to see more of your writing because you do it so well. Keep it up, it's really beautiful what you write
Oh myyyy thank you so much ! I say it all the time but the fact anyone would read what I write, never mind repeat read is the biggest compliment!
I hope you enjoy part 7!
Live footage of me trying to make my plan for my Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x Reader series work without making it a completely different world to the tv show. Oh and not emotionally scarring my readers.
Summary: When Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody was taken into care Smurf pulled some strings and got him put in a place close to Oceanside. That place was with you and your parents. Something Smurf would later regret when she realised that the bond you and Andrew forged in the month he was there was never going away. The years went by and the older boy became your best friend. Your protector. Your person. Fast forward and when Andrew gets out of prison he finds out Smurf’s hatred for you has gone to a whole other level.
Pairing: Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x reader
Warnings: SMUT, slightly toxic behaviour, cock warming, slight dom/sub, not sure if I'm ovulating or just a pervert but here we are, alcohol, creepy guys, fluff.
a/n: seriously the feedback for this series is amazing. I love every single one so thank you. Not much to say about this part except it's shorter because I wanted a low angst part and... Pope Cody in that black hoodie fans... I got you.
Andrew still remembers the moment he realised that every version of himself had loved you in some way, even before he was old enough to understand it.
He’d of course noticed the changes in you as you both grew up, the way your body filled out, the way your face sharpened yet adopted a new kind of softness. The fact that you were beautiful came as no surprise to him. Everything about you was beautiful to him.
It was the way people around you changed that was new. Boys, including his brother looked at you differently, paid more attention, laughed at the things you said when even he didn’t find them funny. Every time it happened he would be there glaring next to you but nobody thought anything of it.
Because Pope was weird. Pope was protective of you. Everybody knew that.
It was one particular party. You were wearing denim shorts over your bikini and your hair was down, you’d had it cut differently. He’d only been gone a couple of minutes and one of Baz’s friends had approached you. He was about to walk over, stand at your shoulder like a warning when his brother stepped in front of him.
“Hey man. She’s a big girl now. Maybe she wants to talk to him.” Baz said with a smirk.
Andrew frowned. It was you, of course you didn’t want to speak to some random guy. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re cock blowing her, dude.” Baz laughs and Pope is torn between shock and wanting to punch his brother in the throat for talking about you that way.
Baz just laughs walking away as Pope stands there, watching you. He knew you weren’t the little girl with plaits following him around like a shadow anymore, known it for a while. Felt an ache in his chest at the thought of you doing the same thing as Julia and slowly drifting away.
Then he notices something. The way you smile politely but all the while your eyes search the crowd for something.
Him.
The moment your eyes meet his you relax. Like you’re relieved to see him, like you needed that reassurance. From him.
Something shifted in him.
Because there were boys everywhere now who looked at you, like you were something to be noticed, wanted, chosen.
And still, without thinking, without hesitation… you chose him.
Even though the world was starting to see you the way he always had, you still look for him. Nobody ever chose him and it lit something in him that hadn’t gone out ever since.
He meets you half way as you start to walk in his direction. You smile up at him squinting and so he shifts to the side slightly to block the sun from your eyes with his body.
“Where did you go?” You ask.
“Smurf needed me to help with some more beer.” You just nod, smiling and he feels it in his chest. Can’t take his eyes off of you.
Your smile, your voice, the way you said his name all began to linger with him in a way he couldn’t name.
Because you looked for him.
You chose him.
You
Pick me up at 12:30?
I’ll send you the address.
Andrew
I’ll be right outside.
Call if you need me.
Life had been strangely calm for a while. You and Andrew had gotten into a strange domestic routine where you had Lena at your house if he had a job. Otherwise the three of you would stay at Lena’s house.
You’d taken over most of the school drop offs after he creeped out the attendant by trying to sit outside the school all day. Something you found adorable. And completely unsurprising.
Dinner would be on the table at the same time every night and you and Andrew spent every spare moment with Lena. To everyone else she was a normal little girl but sometimes you’d notice things. How she would stare off into the distance, how quiet she could get and of course the nightmares.
You did everything you could for her and so when she went to stay with her Aunt for a couple of days and your friend invited you out to a bar for the night you agreed.
Andrew drove you, a worried gaze on the hem of your dress that rode a little too high for his liking. It was still the same between you both but every small step… like the beach… like the fact he would kiss you all the time now made it clear this was more. More than it had ever been.
You’d had a good night, kept him up to date every now and again but mostly had fun with your friend. Eventually your friend had introduced you to their friends, people you’d never met and one particular guy had taken a liking to you.
You’d laugh politely declining any advances but you weren’t sure what reason to give. Not that you needed one. You didn’t have a boyfriend technically.
You had an Andrew Pope Cody.
Most people around Oceanside knew that and stayed well clear. Not this guy.
You had a few more drinks than you’d planned to and time starting running away with you as you caught up with your friend. It made you feel normal. Like you weren’t practically raising a seven year old girl whose Mom had been murdered by the man you loved because her Grandma was a psychopath.
The guy who had kept trying to talk to you had intercepted you on the way to the bar again. You were politely telling him that you were going to get another drink when his face dropped slightly, his demeanour changing instantly. You turn to follow his gaze over your shoulder.
Andrew stood there at your left shoulder like he had done so many times before with his signature death glare directed solely on the man in front of you.
Without saying a word, his gaze never dropping he walks into the space between you and the guy, turning his back on him. Was it rude? Yes. Were you glad the guy finally got the picture and walked away, tail between his legs? Absolutely.
He threw one last glare over his shoulder to make sure the guy was gone before turning back to you. Still annoyed but softer. You were luckily never on the receiving end of one of those glares.
The alcohol buzz had you giddy and you have to force yourself to keep a straight face. He’s stood in the front of you looking mad as hell and all you can think about is how good he looks in his dark jeans and black hoodie zipped all the way up.
“It’s 1am.” He says raising his voice only slightly, close enough for you to hear him over the music.
“Oh shit.” You gasp as you dig through your bag for your phone.
Andrew
12 missed calls
Andrew
8 messages
“Oops?” You say with a grimace.
He’s not impressed. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” You nod and after you’ve said a quick goodbye to your friend you let him lead you out, arm around you and body a barrier between you and the people pushing through the crowd. He’s still glaring when he opens the passenger door and helps you into his truck since you’re in heels.
He doesn’t say anything until he’s been driving a couple of minutes. The silence stretches heavily and you reach to turn on the radio but he grabs your hand placing it back on your lap. His own gripping your bare thigh. “You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I lost track of time. I’m sorry.” His hand grips your thigh and you see his eyes flick to your legs, your dress riding up and you let it.
“Who was that guy?” He asks stiffly.
“I dunno he was with my friend. He was trying to talk to me. I told him I wasn’t interested.” You tell him and notice his grip tightening on the steering wheel.
“So why was he still bothering you?” He asked gruffly.
“Cos most guys are creepy.” You tell him.
“Did anything like that happen while I was in jail?” He asks looking over at you.
“No.” You lie. Of course there were creepy guys in the three years he was gone but nothing you couldn’t handle and you were not about to make him angrier.
He just grunts, clearly not believing you. His hand stays steady on your thigh, his thumb stroking circles on the inside in a way that felt like he was calming himself.
Driving you insane.
But calming himself.
“We’re going to talk about this.” He says as he pulls up to your apartment and the tone is vaguely familiar to the one he uses to talk to Lena. He slams his door when he gets out.
“Shit…” You whisper to yourself as you open your door, he’s there helping you out but his mouth is set in a grim line as he leads you into your apartment. He shuts and locks the door behind you and you walk into the living room staying stood in the middle as he prowls over to you, eyes dark.
You look him up and down appreciatively. He didn’t often wear hoodies, you assumed he must have come to your straight from a job or something. You wonder how it had gone knowing how much pressure he was under with it all and starting to feel bad that you’d added to his stress.
The room is dim, only the lamp you left on in the corner casting shadows over his face as he watches you, taking in every micro expression on your face.
His head tilts and eyes narrow slightly as he recognises the heated look in your eyes.
“Take off your clothes.” He rasps, a voice that sends a shiver through you. “Leave the heels on.” The same confidence you’ve noticed in him recently takes over him and you instinctively press your thighs together.
You keep eye contact with him as you slide off the dress, reaching behind yourself to unhook your bra before slowly letting it fall off you. He doesn’t break eye contact even as you slide your panties down you legs and step out of them. He does lick his lips though.
Finally when you’re stood in just your heels he lets his gaze drop down, taking in every inch of you like you were something that needed to be appreciated. His fists clench at his side and you know he’s fighting not to touch you.
You’re not sure how long he simply admires you for but when he finally looks back up at you its with a desire that spans the years. You’re sure of it. He’s still staring into your eyes as he undoes his belt and jeans, taking his time to undress the bottom half of himself.
You’re not sure why he leaves on the hoodie but you’re glad he does, watching him walk away from where he’s neatly left his jeans, boxers, boots and socks.
He sits down on your couch, legs spread giving you a perfect view of his hard cock as he grips it in his hand. Soft pants leave him as he moves his hand up and down his impressive cock slowly, he continues to stare at you stood in the middle of the room with that intense look of his.
“Come here.” He says breathlessly and you instantly walk over to him, heels clicking on the floor. “Fuck…” He gasps under his breath as he looks you up and down, head to heels.
You straddle him, your already soaked pussy sliding along his cock.
“Uh uh.” He growls, grasping your hips to keep you still. You feel him reach between you both, grabbing his cock and lining it up with you before guiding you to sink down on him. You both moan as he bottoms out, fully inside you but as you go to move his strong arms wrap around your waist like a vice stopping you. “No, sweetheart.”
You whimper confused but he only grabs your hair in his fist, not enough to hurt, just pull slightly as he kisses you forcefully. He pulls your head back gently by your hair.
“You made me wait.” He whispers darkly. “Now you wait.”
Once you realise what he’s doing you can’t help but let out sharp sigh. You realise now the reason he left the hoodie on was for it to feel like an uneven playing ground. He was in charge.
“Don’t move. Okay?” You nod. He leans fully back on the couch watching you try not to squirm.
“Look at you.” He says as he possessively squeezes your hips. One of his hands lifts up to play with your hair as he watches your face carefully, like he’s looking for any sign you’re not okay with this. You nod again, letting him know that this is okay.
“You sit there and wait like I did.” He rasped as his hands start to move over you, ghosting up your spine and around to the front where he cups your breasts in his hands. His thumbs flick your nipples and you whimper unable to stop yourself clenching around him, hips tilting desperate for any kind of friction.
A low groan escapes him and he looks at you warningly. You don’t move an inch. He continues to play with your breasts, squeezing and stroking, rolling your nipples between his fingers. Well and truly taking his damn time.
When he leans forward taking one into his mouth, suckling on it he moans and you feel his cock throb inside of you. You gasp loudly, eyes squeezing shut with the exertion of not moving despite the way your walls flutter around him.
“Good girl.” He praises softly when he realises your nipple with a wet sound. You let out a cry your hands moving to grip at the shoulders of his hoodie, stopping yourself falling completely against him.
“Not helping…” You groan.
“Never said I was going to help.” He murmurs with that lilt of humour that you usually love but right now you curse. He’s enjoying this far too much while you feel like you’re going to combust at any moment.
You whimper his name and he brushes his lips against yours whilst shushing you. His mouth leaves a wet trail from your mouth, down your jaw and neck to your breasts again.
“You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” His breath against your wet nipple makes you shiver and moan as he suckles on it, indulging himself entirely. For you it’s torture and as he hums contentedly you can’t stop your hips rocking into his.
His head snaps up looking at you with that intense gaze.
“I said… don’t. Move.” As he holds you completely still, his voice is strained as he feels you pulsing around him.
“Please…” You beg. “I’m so…” You moan breathlessly feeling his hard cock twitch inside you. He liked you begging. The same way you liked him begging. You couldn’t wait to get pay back for this. “Im sorry I made you wait.”
“I know you’re sorry sweetheart.” He says softly against your mouth as one hand moves to grab your hair gently again pulling your head back. “But now you have to wait like I did.” You feel his mouth sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck, then his teeth scraping and you let out a whimper as your pussy clenches even tighter around him. You wondered if you could come like this.
You prayed that you could.
He can’t help himself touching you everywhere and while watching your face contort with need he feels like maybe he has been forgiven. How else would he be allowed to feel what heaven was like?
His head falls against the back of the couch, groaning loudly as he feels you rhythmically pulse around him, he plays with your tits his eyes snapping to where you’re connected. “Fuck… you want me to fuck you?” His voice is so rough it sends pleasant shocks straight to your pussy. “Huh?” He spreads his legs wider, pulling you even closer while bending to lap at your nipple again. You grind against him.
You have no control over it and when he gently bites your nipple you cry out his name. He also seems to lose control for a second, his hips bucking up into you before he freezes. Holding you still as you let out an actual sob.
“Use your words, beautiful.” His husky voice had you gripping his hair this time, your mouth hanging open and he couldn’t resit tugging and sucking on your bottom lip gently.
“Please… please fuck me.” The desperate voice that rips out of you isn’t one you recognise but Andrew does.
Without warning he lifts and flips you onto your back, grabbing your legs to keep them up in the air so your heeled feet rest on his shoulders as he braces himself on either side of your head. From above you he uses his leverage thrusting his cock in and out of you at a brutal pace, fucking you into the couch.
Finally he is giving you what you need. You almost cry with relief.
“I’m…” But you don’t get the chance to finish the sentence as you fall off the edge he’d been keeping you on, it comes in waves and he continues to pound into you.
“That’s it.” His voice comes out broken and you feel him kissing one of your ankles possessively. You don’t really come down from your orgasm, too overstimulated and full of need as you moan.
“Thank you…” You tell him breathlessly and he just smiles, almost shyly which is absurd whilst he has you in pieces beneath him.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. You did so good.” He moves back slightly to grab hold of your legs as he continues to bury himself in you at a slightly slower pace. He watches your face crumble in pleasure, part of him loving how broken you looked under him. Only for him. Completely safe and cared for but wrecked from sheer pleasure.
He held the backs of your thighs firmly, pulling you open for him without breaking rhythm, pushing them back so he could press in deeper until there was no distance left between you.
“Mine?” He grits out the question as he picks up his pace again.
“Oh…” You gasp at the feeling of him so deep inside you hitting a spot inside you that makes your vision blur. It feel so incredibly intimate to be practically bent in half and spread open for him this way. You feel completely owned by him and you love it. “Yours… always.”
He leans down kissing you deeply with a look of pride in his eyes and something else, something more vulnerable.
He’s frenzied now, starting to mutter words as he thrusts into you as deep as he can possibly get. “Mine. Mine…”
You just nod your scream muffled as you bury your face in his hoodie.
“You chose me…” He growls. He fucks you with the intensity he’s feeling at the revelation you have always and will always choose him.
You were his.
His to take care of.
His to love.
His to make shake beneath him as you come around his cock a second time. He moans your name not letting up, every time he bottoms out his pelvis brushes against your clit as you meet and you’re a trembling mess.
He holds you in his arms now, grounding you as you fall apart again. “You feel so fucking good…” He whispers hoarsely as he bends his head to look down, watching his cock slide in and out of you, glistening with wetness. His breath hitches at the sight and he follows you over the edge as your pussy visibly quivers around him, gripping him like a vice.
The sound he lets out is almost animalistic and you feel his cum spurt inside you deeper than ever before, his cock throbbing. Shallow thrusts keeping him deep inside you as you moan words of encouragement.
When he finally calms he all but collapses against you, neither of you can speak, clinging onto each other.
When he can he turns his head to kiss your cheek and ask, “are you alright?”
The laugh that escapes you is one full of love and joy, your heart is lighter than it has been in weeks and you turn your head to kiss him softly. His own eyes aren’t haunted for once, a genuine smile on his lips and you could cry.
“Handsome…” You start and you feel him melt into you. “I’m more than alright.”
He just nods, a glint in his eye making him look younger than he had in years.
He grunts as he pulls himself out of you. Standing he grabs your feet as you stay laid on the couch in the funny position you had ended up in. He rests them on his chest as he pulls off your heels, his thumbs pressing gently into the arch of each foot. Bending slightly to kiss them before lowering them onto the floor gently.
“I like that hoodie.” You smile as you sit up.
“You do?” He replied innocently as he unzips it, taking it off and throwing it to you. “Yours.” The way he says it makes you shiver, a recall to the intense moment you’d just had declaring you were his. You hoped this was his way of reciprocating.
You pull it on and it’s warm and smells like him as you zip it up over your naked body.
“It’s late, you need sleep. We can shower in then morning before we go pick Lena up” You suddenly remember how late it is.
You take the hand he’s offering. You both get ready for bed quickly, and you fall into bed wrapped around each other. Smelling of one another and you can’t help but wonder if that was deliberate on his part.
“I’m sorry…” He says just as your drifting off. “If that was too much.” The slightly fragile side of him coming out again. “We did a job today. It went good. But there’s always something with them. Nothing is ever simple anymore.” He shakes his head in annoyance. To Andrew it was always simple, do what needed to be done, no bullshit.
He liked to be in control of the situation and his brothers were all dealing with their own shit, it was a minefield. As capable as Andrew was, you’d seen him lead them more times than you can count they’re all adults who couldn’t be controlled.
He had clearly needed to control something tonight and you were happy to volunteer.
“It wasn’t, handsome.” You smile up at him. “I liked it.” A shy laugh escapes you. “A lot.”
“Sleep now.” He kisses your temple, playing with your hair. The mixture of alcohol and world altering sex had you falling asleep in record time but not before you heard Andrew whisper something.
Something he’d never called you before.
You convinced yourself that it must have been a dream creeping into reality but you still smile when you hear it.
Summary: When Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody was taken into care Smurf pulled some strings and got him put in a place close to Oceanside. That place was with you and your parents. Something Smurf would later regret when she realised that the bond you and Andrew forged in the month he was there was never going away. The years went by and the older boy became your best friend. Your protector. Your person. Fast forward and when Andrew gets out of prison he finds out Smurf’s hatred for you has gone to a whole other level.
Pairing: Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x reader
Warnings: death, mental illness, angst
a/n: as ever thank you so much for all interactions with this series. They seriously give me life. I'm so enjoying writing this but having people along for the ride does make it so much more fun. So this one is a little heavy. No smut I'm afraid, it just didn't fit in anywhere. You will see why. I will make up for it in the next one though. I've already written it and it's potentially my favourite part yet! So I'll probably post that tomorrow. Enjoy!
It was inevitable that Baz would find out about what Andrew did to Cath. Of course it was. Especially now that Smurf was in prison. Put there by Baz and not one of her ‘boys’ were rallying to get her out. It was no shock she would try to poison them against one another.
What you hadn’t accounted for was Baz sitting in your kitchen when you got home from work.
You stay silent in the doorway not wanting to go any closer. There was only one reason you could think that he would be sat there at your dining table.
Revenge.
Andrew had killed his wife and you were the closest equivalent to that. Except Andrew actually gave a shit about you. The only thing that kept you calm was the fact that surely Baz knew the hell he would unleash in his brother if he never saw you again.
But maybe Baz didn’t care about that.
Andrew had called you the second Smurf had called him to tell him his brother knew what he’d done. Told you to get home as soon as possible. It was supposed to be a sanctuary none of them knew about. But Baz had found you.
“You knew.” He said calmly.
You take a deep steadying breath, not saying a word. You don’t need to. The gun on the table in front of him has all your attention.
“Of course you knew.” He laughs humourlessly. “Sit down.”
“I’d rather not.” Your voice shows all the fear you’re trying to hide and your shaking hands are clenched together in front of you.
“Sit down.” He raises his voice and you flinch before walking over to the table and slowly sitting down across from him.
“Baz…” You start.
“That bedroom… you’ve decorated that for Lena?” He asks his voice steady but full of rage. “Guilty conscience?” He ducks down slightly to look you dead in the eye and you stare back. “She’s been having sleepovers with the man who killed her Mom and the woman who knew about it.”
“Smurf…” You’re sure you can get through to him.
“Shut the fuck up!” He shouts. “Don’t you see how fucked that is?”
You look away now, to his hand resting on the table beside the gun. There was nothing to say because you’d thought the same thing and been racked with guilt for it.
No amount of ice cream, toys or baking could fix the fact that Andrew, the man you loved and stood by had murdered her Mom.
“Playing house with my kid?!” Spit flies from his mouth as he screams at you, hand slamming on the table. You want to argue back that he’s been everywhere but by his daughters side and someone had to step up. It didn’t seem like the time.
“Smurf told him she was talking to the cops.” You can barely hear yourself speak over the blood rushing in your ears. Your heart racing. “He thought he was protecting you all…”
“Shut up!” He shouts.
“Everything he does is for you and your brothers!” You shout back now, not quite sure if it’s due to panic to anger. His face softens slightly. He knows what you’re saying is true.
You open your mouth to speak again just as the front door bangs open followed by Andrew’s frantic shout of your name and then he’s right there in the kitchen. When he see’s the scene in front of him he freezes with a pained expression on his face, his face gets red, his chest heaving. He is seething, gun gripped in his hand but he doesn’t raise it.
Looking back at Baz you realise why. In the commotion of Andrew bursting in he had grabbed the gun and was now pointing it directly at you.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
“She has nothing to do with this.” Andrew growls. “Point the gun at me. I did it!” He is desperate as he holds up his hands, the gun goes loose in his grip as he places it on the kitchen counter.
Baz doesn’t do anything. Just watches him, gun still pointed at you.
“Point it at me!” He roars. “Do it!”
You shake your head at Andrew but he doesn’t even look your way, zeroed in on the threat.
A whimper escapes you as Baz does just that, the gun now pointed at Andrew as he rises from the his chair. You notice that unlike when he pointed it at you Baz has the gun lowered, pointing at his brothers legs.
Andrew finally looks at you. Eyes still frenzied. “You’re okay.” You’re amazed at how he manages to keep his voice soft, comforting you at a time like this. “Leave.” This time it’s an order. One you aren’t willing to follow.
“No.” You say shakily. There was no way you were leaving him with a gun pointed at him. He is pleading with you through his gaze but you look back at him determined and he knows he isn’t going to win. Growling your name he turns to Baz. Needing to keep his attention on him instead of you.
“She didn’t suffer.” Andrew rasps, his voice breaking. “We thought she was talking to the cops…” He has relaxed ever so slightly now that the gun isn’t being pointed at you but still on high alert because you’re there. You can tell by the way he holds himself, can almost feel the way his short nails are probably cutting into his palm as he clenches his fists.
Even so he sounds resigned, exhausted with the weight of it all.
Baz says nothing, scarily calm in a way you hope means he won’t do anything rash.
“I did it. Like I always do.” He sounds so defeated, tears fill your eyes. “It’s always me! Nobody ever thought of me!” He shouts through heavy breaths. “You never thought of me! I rotted in prison for three years and you didn’t care!”
It was clear this was something Baz felt guilty about. He knew more about what Andrew went through in that prison that you did, that was certain and you watch the tension drop out of Baz’s shoulders.
“Not one of you ever thought about me!!” None one of this is new to you. You’d had this conversation with him so many times over the years, comforted him as best you could while knowing the people who really needed to hear it didn’t care to listen.
“And now you come into this house and threaten the one good thing… the one good thing in my fucking life!” He shouts as he walks straight up to Baz, who raises the gun again but it doesn’t stop Andrew. They’re inches apart with the gun pressed into his abdomen and you can only cry out a weak stop as you jump out of your seat. “I deserve to be punished! She doesn’t.” He looks over at you and it’s like he’s apologising, like he’s trying to refresh his memories of the parts of you that others would’t be able to recall or notice.
He always did though.
His name is a whispered whimper on your lips as his eyes squeeze shut like he wants the image of you to be right there, the last thing he ever see’s as he turns back to his Brother.
“Go ahead and do it.” He says, eyes remaining closed. “I want you to. Please!” His voice is desperate, all the pain he’s ever felt right there finally burying him.
“No.” You’re sobbing now and Baz actually looks over at you, just as effected by his Brothers begging.
“Please.” Andrew whispers and it breaks you. You clamp a hand over your mouth but you can’t look away from Baz, shaking your head with a plea of your own in your eyes.
Please don’t hurt him.
The moment drags on, every moment feeling like can’t breath.
When Baz puts the gun into the back of his jeans you let out hysterical sob, catching yourself on the table as you collapse into the chair bent in on yourself.
Baz grabs his Brothers face. “I know it was Smurf. I know. It wasn’t you.”
Andrew fights back. “Just kill me.”
“Look at me!” Baz takes control in a way you’d seen him do when they were younger. Reminding you of the times when you, Julia and Baz were the only ones who could get through to him. You were a team until he fucked it all up.
He’s holding his face, practically holding him up. “I love you Brother. I love you. I take care of you. That’s what I do. I take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”
Tears roll down your face as you watch the pair and part of you can’t help but think about all the times he didn’t take care of him. How this felt a lot like the way Smurf used her words but never followed them up with her actions.
You were just glad the gun was away. That Andrew was safe.
Even if not from himself. You could fix that. You would always fix that.
“I forgive you.” Baz says. They’re both crying and Andrew is looking at him shocked as ever at the thought that someone would forgive him. “You hear me? I forgive you.”
You can’t take anymore and stand shakily as they have their moment, feeling as if you float past them into your bedroom. You hear them crying. You hear Baz continuing to promise he will look after him as you stand at your window processing everything you had just seen in a daze.
You’re still stood, arms folded chewing on the nail of your thumb when you hear someone at your bedroom door. Surprised to see Baz when you turn.
“He needs you.” He says quietly. One thing about Baz that was opposite to his Brother? He would look you in the eyes no matter what he had done wrong. “He always needs you.”
You just nod.
He opens his mouth to speak, closes it again and sighs before trying again. “I’m sorry for…” You wait for him to finish, your eyes giving nothing away. Maybe in a little shock. “I shouldn’t have done that. I just wanted to scare him. I felt like I had to… I dunno…” He sighs running his hand through his hair.
“Just don’t do it again.” You say in a monotone voice.
“Are you kidding? I’m lucky he hasn’t broken all my limbs.” He laughs softly. You don’t. It’s not funny. None of this is. “I’m gonna…” He turns to leave but stops and looks over his shoulder at you. “The room looks really nice by the way… thank you.”
It might be the shock or just how much you love Lena but you soften slightly. “She’s welcome anytime.”
He just nods before he walks out, you hear the front door close and walk out of your bedroom.
He’s sat on your sofa, staring at the floor unmoving. As you look at him tears begin to fall again remembering him begging his Brother to kill him. You had noticed he’d gotten worse recently, more distant. Hadn’t been around as much but you knew he still dealing with his families shit and looking after Lena on top of everything else. You helped as much as he let you.
There was something about him the last time you’d seen him only a day or so ago. He had been here with you when he got a call about Lena having an accident at The Cody house. One that could have landed her in hospital.
They had been having one of their parties and nobody was keeping an eye on her. You’d both raced over there and he barged his way into the house, left you with Lena before grabbing a shot gun and screaming at everyone to get out.
You’d been so proud of him.
You slept with Lena that night as the rest of them discussed Smurfs arrest. He woke you both up with a soft voice and a look in his eye that felt like love. He’d taken you both to breakfast and dropped Lena off at school before taking you home.
He had kissed you like he was going off to war and you’d had a sinking feeling ever since you’d watched him drive away.
You walk over to him slowly, the way one would approach a wild animal, not because you’re scared but because you don’t want to spook it. Sitting down beside him you wrap an arm around his shoulders, gently letting your nose brush the side of his face and he melts instantly.
He leans into you until he’s laid sideways, his head resting on your thighs, one hand gripping your leg and the other pulling your arm around him securely. Your tears continue to fall as you hold him close. Neither of you speak.
There’s nothing to say.
You just need each other.
You always would.
You both fell asleep that way eventually until you felt yourself being carried to bed. He took off your shoes, left a lingering kiss on your forehead and left. With Smurf gone he didn’t trust anyone to get Lena to school and so he stayed at the house as much as he hated it.
It had been planned for a while that you would go and visit your parents that next day, you called him when you woke up mid morning and he insisted you still go. He sounded… off but he always did these days so you didn’t question it.
Andrew:
Come to Smurfs.
You get the message when you’re halfway home that evening. You had stayed a few times recently, since Smurf was in jail you could.
When you pull into the house, the gate closing behind your car you’re surprised to see Lena alone walking into the yard
“Hey Princess. What are you doing out here?” You ask as you catch up to her.
“Uncle Pope told J to stay with me but he left.” She said sadly.
“Huh. He did, did he. Come on.” You continue walking with her, your hand on her shoulder. Instantly you notice something is off. Lucy is there for one and she’s crying, Nicky stood at her side, also looking sad. Andrew, Deran and J have their backs to you.
You hear Andrew speaking but don’t catch anything until you get closer and hear Lucy. What she says has both you and Lena stop in your tracks.
“God, I can’t believe Baz is dead.”
The words don’t register. He’s not dead. You just saw him yesterday. He held a gun up to your head.
“My Dad’s Dead?” Lena’s little voice brings you back to reality and you realise why Andrew had told J to stay with Lena. Shit.
Everyone turns to look at you both, Andrew only briefly locking eyes with you before it switches to a death glare directed right at J. He walks straight up to him and you immediately sense a change in him from the broken man curled in your lap the night before. Something has hardened. Without Baz, without Smurf it was all down to him.
He quickly bends to lift Lena into his arms before giving you a serious look and grabbing your hand pulling you along with them.
Lena had cried for nearly two hours before passing out. You’d cried with her. Andrew had cried too, eventually you whispered ‘I got it’ to him knowing he wasn’t good in these situations.
Holding her while she cried solidified the bond you already had with her.
Life shouldn’t be so hard for a little girl. Yet here she was, orphaned all because of one woman. There was no doubt in your mind this was Smurf. You hadn’t even gotten to speak to anybody about it but you just knew it. She will have worked out Baz was the one to frame her, he was the only one who could have.
Vindictive bitch strikes again.
When you leave Lena asleep it’s Deran you see first, eyes red and looking lost. You open your arms to him straight away and he practically falls into the hug as he cries. You wonder if anybody has hugged him yet. Or Andrew. Probably not. It wasn’t The Cody’s first reaction to anything you had learned.
“I’m so sorry.” You whisper as he pulls away wiping his eyes. He just nods.
“I’m glad you’re here. Pope has been being a dick to everyone all day.” He tells you. There were plenty times you’d been called in due to Pope’s moods. You were basically his emotional support human. The funny thing was, sometimes you didn’t even need to do anything to calm him. You’d just be there existing and suddenly he’d be okay.
It was reciprocated.
“Cut him some slack.” You say with a sad smile. “He’s worried about Lena. About all of you.”
“He’s still a dick.” He scoffs.
You laugh softly. “I’ll try and rein him in a little.” He squeezes your shoulder in thanks as he walks past you.
Everyone else is in the kitchen when you walk in.
“She’s asleep. She…” Your voice breaks and Andrew is by your side in a second, his hand stroking the side of your face. Nicky and Lucy watch the interaction like you have three heads. You’re used to it. People didn’t often see this side to him and you’re sure from what Deran said he’s been a nightmare all day. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You whisper.
“Come with me.” He says tiredly as he pulls you to what once was his room. The room that felt like home to you in this place even though Smurf had stripped it down.
Once you’re in the room he faces you. “I just… I couldn’t… I wanted you to have a nice day with your parents and…”
You close the distance. “It’s okay.” Wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to bury his face in the spot between your shoulder and neck he seemed to favour. “I just wish I’d been here for you.” You whisper.
He just nuzzles into you, his hands pulling you to him by your hips, rubbing up to your waist before he completely wraps you in his arms. God he’d needed this. He finally let himself cry and you just hold him.
Life changed quickly for you both.
It was no surprise to you that Andrew took on the role of leader effortlessly if not slightly reluctantly. You’d watch him with his new found sense of purpose proudly. He’d always been the most capable, that had always been clear to you. He had a new air about him, confident in a way you’d never seen him before and so determined to keep everyone going.
Your focus became Lena as well as her Uncle. Just in case he needed someone. Not completely convinced he could just switch like that.
Andrew was on high alert for a while after Baz and hadn’t let you leave his side.
If you went out somewhere with him, he would put himself between you and any crowd, any exit. Wherever he and Lena stayed, you stayed but eventually he and the family relaxed. Assuming if anyone was coming for them they would have by now.
If Smurf was coming, you always corrected in your head. You hadn’t broached that subject with Andrew yet but you knew he suspected.
Lena had expressed that she felt better in her bedroom, which you encouraged Andrew to go with since the poor kid’s life had done a complete 360. The least he could do was let her keep her home. When he hadn’t let you leave his side you had slept on the couch, sometimes on his lap but most the time he didn’t sleep anyway.
Lena would have a nightmares and you would comfort her back to sleep, staying with her as her small fingers clutched at your shirt even in her sleep. Andrew would sit in on the couch all night. Shotgun on the table. No way of anybody getting to you both without going through him.
She had stayed at your place a few times but understandably she mostly wanted to be at home or Smurfs. Needing some familiarity.
When Andrew had suggested you quit your job in the past you’d just laugh it off, never willing to live off of him in any way but this time was different. He asked for your help.
You walked into Lena’s house one day to see Andrew stood in the kitchen.
He looks up from whatever he is glaring at on the counter but there’s no softness in has eyes. Not even for you. You walk into the kitchen and lean sideways on the counter, facing him, your hand rubbing his back.
“What is it?” You ask gently and he finally looks at you. He’s worried but his brown pulls together in annoyance.
“It’s Lena.” He starts. “She’s being bullied.”
“What?!” You gasp.
“I spoke to her teacher today. They’re bullying her about her dead dad. Can you believe that?!” Anger rises in you instantly. Lena was so sweet, your heart breaking at the thought of her being scared or sad. “Someone kicked her. Couple of girls cornered her in a bathroom and told her that her dad was a criminal.”
You stare back at him speechless not quite fathoming how kids could be so cruel. Fury rips through you.
“What are their Mom’s names?” You ask deadly serious.
“What?” He asks turning to face you.
“Give me their Mom’s names. I’ll talk to them. Those little shits heard Lena’s Dad’s a criminal from someone… they’re raising little bullies then I’ll bully them.”
He smirks ever so slightly. “That won’t help anything, sweetheart. Besides you’ve never been in a fight in your life.”
“Well this is a good reason to have my first fight if I need to.” He just looks at you unconvinced, clearly amused.
“Okay, Rocky let’s take it down a notch.” He reaches up and tugs gently at the hair coming loose from your ponytail. “If anyone’s fighting anyone it’s me breaking their Dad’s legs.” He growls and you can tell he’d already thought of fifty different ways to do it before you arrived. “We don’t want any attention from DCFS.”
Shaking your head you step into him, knowing exactly where his head will be going. To one of the most traumatic experiences of his childhood, and there were a lot, but also the one that brought you into his life.
“I was lucky.” He rasps. “I can’t let that happen to her…”
“We won’t.” You tell him assuredly. Letting him know this wasn’t all on him.
“I was thinking… I can’t do this alone.” He tilts your head up with a finger on your chin. “Lena loves you… you’re so good with her.” He pauses, a vulnerable look in his eyes. "Why don’t you quit that job you hate so much and look after Lena.”
“But…”
“I’m asking for your help.” He interrupts. “You haven’t used our card once. For anything. Not even the room for Lena.”
Shrugging you look up at him. You know there is a hell of a lot in there. Curiosity had won you over of course, you’re only human.
“You never need to worry about money.” He says sincerely until anger flashes through his eyes and you know he’s remember that you did in fact have to worry about money for a couple of years.
“Are you sure?” You ask quietly, hoping to distract him from his thoughts more than anything.
“Let me take care of you.” He whispers, his hands finding you waist. The feel of his hands spread out on your waist and lower back making you lean into him even more.
“Okay.” You say quietly as you nod. It was an easy decision. You being completely free to take care of Lena meant taking some of the pressure off him.
“Yeah?” He asked looking hopeful.
“Yeah.” You smile up at him.
His fingers gently play with your hair again, his eyes scanning your face before kissing you gently. You pull back and he tries to follow you.
“So… Lena…” You sigh, your hands gripping the lapels of his jacket.
“I have an idea but I want run it by you first.” Your stomach fills with butterflies at the implications of that.
Later that day you’re both sat in Lena’s bedroom, Andrew on the bed beside her whilst you perch on one of the small chairs in her room precariously. She almost giggles at you but doesn’t. She’s sad and it breaks you. You’d promised Andrew you would try and get her to talk to you more.
As much as he clearly loved Lena he struggled with the more delicate parts of being a seven year old girl. Understandably.
“So… Smurf never made me go to school. She didn’t see the point.” Andrew starts and although you have a lot to say about that particular decision of Smurfs you stay quiet. Enamoured by the soft, gentle way he speaks to Lena. “I used to get into fights.”
Understatement. You think.
“I used to… punch people. One time I lit a teachers desk on fire.”
You clear your throat at that one to get his attention and he looks over at you bemused as you just smile tightly back at him. You scrunch up your nose to indicate that maybe he’s giving her too much detail. He nods and continues.
“And Grandma Smurf, she… she didn’t want the hassle. So she let me skip it.”
“I hate it there.” Lena says sadly.
“School sucks. But you are smart like your Mom, and she’d want you to go. So you’re going.” He says plainly.
You reach over to grab Lena’s hand. “But you don’t have to go back to that school. Isn’t that right Uncle Pope?”
You both look over at him as he nods placing the leaflets you’d both gotten onto her bed. New schools. Private schools. One that cost a pretty penny. Which would be coming out of your joint account.
You found it strange that he would even ask your permission to do it. You still didn’t see it as your money. You told him he could empty it if it helped Lena and he had pulled you into an embrace that was still making you shiver when you thought about it.
His warm mouth brushing against your neck. Strong hands pushing their way under your t shirt to find skin and just caress it, pulling you in against his chest. Heat coming from the solid expanse through his think black t shirt that you adored him in.
It had been a while.
“Pick one.” He says.
“What?” She ask’s looking at you both. You nod with a smile.
“Go ahead. Pick a school.” Andrew tells her.
“These are for rich kids.” Lena says looking down at the leaflets.
“What the hell do you think you are?” He asks with a hint of playfulness in his voice. You smile over at him, you know your eyes must be shining. You don’t think you’d ever been more proud of him. The way he had taken everything in his stride, juggling both Lena and family business.
He seemed sturdier recently. Less fragile. You wondered if it was Smurfs absence or the fact that he had so much other stuff to focus on but whatever it was you were glad of it.
Lena smiled up at him.
“Okay my ass is numb. Why don’t we order pizza and look through these outside, huh?” You say as you stand up stretching.
“Butt.” Andrew corrects as he looks up at you from his seat on the bed, brows furrowed.
“Oops, sorry Uncle Pope Butt.” You response with a smirk. Lena does giggle now and Andrew mouth upturns at one side. Good enough for you.
You grab Lena from her bed, settling her on your hip despite her being a little too big and carry her out of the room. “Bring the leaflets, Uncle Pope.” You call as you leave and he just sits there for a second.
So grateful for the effortless ease you bring to any situation with Lena. He often wonders how he would cope through life without you but he’s certain he would have struggled with this particular turn of events without you.
He grabs the leaflets with a soft smile and follows you, pulling his phone from his pocket to call for pizza.
There were few things that Andrew still felt in control of in his life right now but this one, for tonight was easy.
If his girls wanted pizza. They were getting pizza.
I love Before We Knew Better so much. I think I’ve been rereading it a little too much but I can help it haha! I can’t wait to see how proud the reader will be of Pope after Baz dies and Pope for better or for worse steps into a leadership role!!
This is the biggest compliment! Omg thank you!
I’ve been like like with a couple fics in the past (a Bucky Barnes and a Daryl Dixon to be specific 🤣) so someone being like that with something I’ve written really makes me so happy!
I’ve actually just finished writing exactly that. 😏 It won’t be long! 🖤
hi!! i just needed to tell you that before we knew better is my current obsession like i had to turn on your post notifs so i can read each chapter as soon as it’s out i love it so much!!!! like i haven’t felt this way about a fic in ages!!!! 10/10
Wow this means a lot thank you soo much! 🥹 I started this fic as I couldn’t find the Pope fic I was looking for, if that makes sense, so I’m so glad people are enjoying it.
Summary: When Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody was taken into care Smurf pulled some strings and got him put in a place close to Oceanside. That place was with you and your parents. Something Smurf would later regret when she realised that the bond you and Andrew forged in the month he was there was never going away. The years went by and the older boy became your best friend. Your protector. Your person. Fast forward and when Andrew gets out of prison he finds out Smurf’s hatred for you has gone to a whole other level.
a/n: Again so so grateful that people are enjoying this series and the feedback. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm especially loving the comments and some of the reblogs are literally giving me life. It really makes a difference. So this is a slightly longer one but a few things I wanted to include for them before moving on to anything else. I hope you enjoy!
When Andrew was sixteen he nearly went to Juvie. Smurf fixed it of course but you still remember the constant pit in your stomach for days until he was cleared.
He’d beat up a teacher. Bad.
That’s when most of the worst rumours about him started to circulate. It’s when you started having to sneak around to see him because even your parents became wary. You were slightly younger after all.
Thinking back it was probably the point where a lot of things went down hill.
That one job.
Computers from school.
Baz’s idea of course but Andrew took the fall. You were starting to see a theme.
He got the nickname Pope as a direct result of that job when he started having to go to community service to avoid juvie and came across a church.
“I was at a church today.”
He told you as you walked along the beach together. “The church?” You ask, making yourself sound more interested than the surprise you’re feeling.
“Yeah. I talked to the priest.”
Knowing Smurfs strong feelings about him not talking to anyone outside the family you can’t help but show your surprise this time. It was one of the reasons she hated you even as a teen. She soon realised Andrew did and always would talk to you.
“He gave me this.” He pulls a church leaflet out of his back pocket and passes it to you. You take the time to look at it and read it before looking up at him with a soft smile. Passing it back to him.
“Are you thinking of going?”
“Yeah. I think so.” He nodded unsure. You could tell it was interesting to him. Andrew had always grappled with a deep routed guilt that you assumed came from the things he did with his family. It became clear as you got older that it was much deeper, more sinister than you could have ever imagined.
“My Mom goes to church.” You say, wanting him to know it’s normal and safe to talk about with you.
“Yeah. I remember.” He says but there is sadness there. Your parents had taken a step back from him since the incident. They were good people but The Cody’s and Smurf were renowned around Oceanside and they were scared for their daughter. It had hit Andrew hard. Of course it had. It had proved everything Smurf said.
That they didn’t understand him.
That all he needed was his real family.
You grab his hand, nerves setting in because at this point he wasn’t just Andrew anymore. He was an older boy you were starting to harbour a crush on.
“I think it will be good for you.” You say squeezing once before letting go. You feel his hand squeeze back slightly as though he doesn’t want to let go but he does. And he gives you one of his shy crooked smiles that you would try to recall in the fall into your dreams, hoping to dream of him.
He did start going. He enjoyed it. Until Smurf made him rob the place. Baz, being Baz started to call him Pope making fun of Andrew’s conscience.
So when Pope told you about their plans to hit the mega-church you could only stare at him, blinking.
“£300k if we wait three weeks but Deran couldn’t wait so we did something smaller one today.” Andrew doesn’t tell you information like this usually. Andrew doesn’t ramble. “I loaned him my share.” He shifts on the bed beside you.
He and Lena had turned up on your doorstep a few hours earlier. Andrew whispered to you out of Lena’s ear shot that Baz was being a dick. Nothing new. It turned into a sleep over when her Dad decided to stay with Lucy.
“You really think this is a good idea?” You angle your body to face him now but he stays looking straight ahead, sat up straight against your headboard. You didn’t need to elaborate what you were talking about.
That last time he robbed a church he was messed up for weeks.
“It’s a lot of money.” He looked at you as though that should mean something to you. It didn’t. It was never about money for you.
“You have money.” You retort trying not to show your annoyance. “It’s not just some safe, Andrew. It’s a big job. There’s risks.”
You knew it was stupid to pick and choose which jobs you were okay with. They all held risk but this one held extra risk. The risk of more guilt piling on top of him and you were always scared of which one would bury him. Mentally or physically.
You couldn’t bare to think about it.
“If I do this one then that account we have…” The joint account. The card that stays in your purse reminding you everyday that you are joined… just not in the way you want to be. “There would be enough in there for anything we need.”
“What would we need?” You ask and he finally turns his head and looks you in the eyes as you try to decode the look in his. Something you could do in almost every other scenario but not this stuff. You could gauge how he felt about almost anything except your relationship…friendship… you didn’t even know what to call it.
It didn’t fit any label.
Just as quickly he shrugs looking away again. He doesn’t say a word but you somehow find a way to hang on the silence anyway. You fall forward into him, your forehead resting on his shoulder.
Not the time. Not with Lena in the next room. So you’d play house again. It was easier. It made his eyes light up a little and that told you enough for now.
“I was thinking maybe I’d decorate the guest room for Lena.” You say lifting your head off him only to wrap your arms around his muscular one, leaning comfortably against him. “She can stay with me whenever she needs.”
He looks down at you, his eyes soft and grateful. Whether it’s for the change in subject or your care for Lena you weren’t sure. Probably both.
“Use our card.” He replied in a soft voice. “Don’t try and build anything. I’ll only have to undo the whole thing and start again when you miss one screw.”
“That happened one time!” You smile looking up at him, mere inches away from each other. Something you’d always both been more than comfortable with but recently it always felt charged.
“One time. And now I supervise.” His voice is an affectionate rumble.
“Supervise?” You laugh softly and pull back, not missing the way he follows you ever so sightly. “You mean you build it and I watch.”
“Never complained before.” He says with a grin. You’d made it clear to him you liked watching him build things, fix things, destroy things… anything really.
You imagine that if you were together this would be the part where he would kiss you, climb on top of you and make love to you. But you aren’t and the realisation brings down your mood slightly. You wonder if he thinks the same thing. If he wishes the boundaries were gone.
“No I never complain.” You say, your voice sadder than you meant it to. “I’m going to go to sleep now okay, handsome.” You lean over and kiss his cheek. You lie down on your side facing away from him and he doesn’t move for a while. Still sat propped up against your headboard.
Eventually he lies down behind you, pressed into your back and pulling you into him. His face burrows into the place where you neck meets your shoulder, leaving a soft kiss. He only whispers your name like a prayer before you both relax into sleep.
Deran:
I bought a bar. Opening tonight.
Coming?
You:
So proud of you! Wouldn’t miss it!
Coming with Pope. :)
When Andrew told you his youngest brother bought a bar you were so happy for him. When he told you Smurf had known nothing about it you were so proud of him.
You walk into the bar beside Andrew and you’re so ready for a drink. He’d been complaining about the place not having a sign for at least twenty minutes after he’d had to circle the block three times.
“Holy shit.” Pope says looking around. “Where is everybody?” You roll your eyes resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs.
“They’ll be here just as soon as it’s too dark to surf.” Craig said taking a sip of his beer.
“Yeah well it’s been dark for over an hour, so…” Deran replied dejectedly. You wanted so badly for this to work out for him.
“Took me a while to find the place. You should think about putting up a sign.”
“Please stop with the sign.” You whine as you lean over the bar to Deran, kissing him on the cheek. “It’s great in here. I love it.” He smiles at you in thanks.
“Right. That’s what I’ve been saying.” Craig agrees with Andrew as you sit on the stool beside him and Deran passes you and Andrew a bottle of beer each.
“Here. On the house.”
“Oh, I paid for these beers.” Andrew grumbled. “It cost me sixteen grand.”
You roll your eyes again. Something has him in a shitty mood tonight. Deran and Craig are distracted by people coming into the bar and you move up a stool grabbing Andrew by the front pocket of his jeans to pull him to sit down. He raises his eyebrows at you but sits.
“So what’s got you in a shitty mood?” You ask taking a sip of your beer.
“Nothing.” He says looking over at the group of men approaching the bar, relaxing slightly when Craig sits on the other side of you.
You catch up with Craig and Deran, Andrew interjecting every now and again. You’re on your third beer which you insisted on paying for to help Deran’s business. Andrew watching moodily as you pay.
“Did you not hear the part about the 16 grand?” He leaned down to whisper and on your third beer you can’t help but lean into him.
“Yeah I heard. That’s your money and I wanna help him out.”
“Ours.” He says and you shiver at both the way his lips brush your ear and the word. Ours. “I put everything in that joint account now.”
“You do?” You ask pulling back so you can see his face. His gaze is more relaxed and the way his eyes crinkle around the edges reminds you just how long you had both been doing this dance.
“Of course.” He says and then as if realising it got too deep he stands up. “I need to take a piss.” He announces. “Hey. Deran is there soap in there?” He asks pointing at the toilet.
“The mens?” Deran says thinking. “Shit I don’t think so.” Andrew looks at him disgusted.
“I’m using the ladies.” He says.
“Andrew you can’t use the ladies” You tell him, laughing.
“You’re practically the only lady in here.” His tone sarcastic but he’s looking around the bar like a wolf off of one of those nature programs he’s always watching. “Craig. Watch her.” He says with an intense look in his eye before walking off when Craig nods.
“Does it ever get tiring?” Craig asks looking back at you slightly as he’s leant forward on the bar.
“What?” You ask.
“How… intense he is and shit.”
You don’t even have to think about it. “No.”
“You’re like a fucking saint I swear.” Shaking his head with a smile. “I can’t even remember Pope without you, you know?”
It catches you off guard. Craig was never one to talk about sentimental things, then again you hadn’t seen him for the last three years. He’d clearly grown up. A little.
“Really?” You smile.
“Hey, Craig. Who’s your friend?” One of the surfers shouted over. Craig turns on the stool pointing at the man in an instant.
“Bro. Fuck off. I’m serious.” He stands up. “I’m gonna go tell em. Don’t want any shit tonight.” He walks off.
You shake your head laughing and keep drinking your beer. You’re not sure if Andrew heard the interaction but when he returned from the bathroom ten seconds later he gestures for you to sit on the stool he had been on at the end and stays stood up. You scoot over.
You’re sat sideways, facing Andrew and leaning one elbow on the bar when you see Baz enter. You finish your bottle of beer and put it down on the bar standing up. “Where’s the toilet?”
He tilts his head in the direction before starting to walk over to it, you grab his wrist and nod your own head towards Baz. “I’m a big girl. Talk to Douche Baz.” You say bringing back the name you coined for him back in your teens, getting one of the first small smiles out of Andrew the entire night.
By the time you come back you can see the empty shot glasses and see the hazy look the Andrew get’s in his eyes when he’s starting to be effected by the alcohol. You’re not surprised when he grabs your hand because of it. Alcohol had always been one of the things that weakened the boundaries.
“Smurfs just turned up.” He tell you. “We’re leaving.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Is all you say as you say goodbye to the brothers. Even a slight nod to Baz.
He’s still quiet on the drive home. Definitely shouldn’t be driving but it wasn’t far and it was hardly the worst thing he’d done. There was something in the atmosphere, charged, something on his mind. He was always quiet but not this quiet.
The few beers you’d both had made it easier for you to reach over threading your fingers through the hair on the back on his head.
“Your curls are back.” You smile over at him your head leaning back on the head rest sloppily to look at him.
“Happy?” He asks as his hand finds your thigh, his fingers inching towards the inside more as he squeezes.
You don’t answer because you are happy in this moment but there is so much wrong.
“Are you?” You ask softly, your nails gently scratching at the back of his head making it drop forward slightly as his whole body relaxes.
“I’m always happy around you.” He says as though it should be obvious. It’s a gentle rumble and you know that if he wasn’t driving he’d be pressing as close to you as he could get. His grip tightening on your thigh.
“What are you thinking, handsome?” Your voice is basically a whisper. “Please talk to me.”
You know there is something on his mind, there always is for him unfortunately. But you can tell when something’s at the forefront, clawing to get out of him.
“It’s just something Baz said.” He said his voice tight.
“When are you gonna let me fight him?” You joke as your hand starts to massage the base of his neck instead.
“Never.” He says fixing you with a stern look despite knowing it’s a joke.
“What did that idiot say now?” You sigh as he pulls up outside your apartment.
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He get’s out of the car walking around to open your door. You slide out and deliberately step into him.
“If it’s bothering you, I want to know.” You say seriously.
“I can’t stay tonight. I don’t want to leave Lena with J and Nikki.” He says trying to change the subject.
“That’s okay, I agree.” You say sincerely. He kisses your forehead before walking to the house, shutting the car door after you.
Once you’re inside you go straight to your bedroom and he goes to his chair.
“You don’t have to stay until I’m asleep.” You tell him as you unbutton your jeans and slide them off. His heated gaze following your every move. He says nothing.
As you go about getting ready for bed every time you glance over at him he’s still deep in thought. Eventually his gruff voice breaks the silence.
“He said nobody would ever have a kid with me.”
You freeze. One because you’re angry that Baz would say that and two because it’s tricky territory. You turn to him in only your large t shirt, his t shirt from years ago. You walk up to him and stand in front of him.
“Baz is a terrible Dad. You do more for his little girl than he does. He’s just projecting because he knows it and he’s guilty.” You say it with conviction but you can see in his eyes it doesn’t take away the hurt so you crawl into his lap instead. Straddling him. His hand lightly rest on your hips.
“You’d be an amazing Dad.” You whisper with your forehead resting against his. It’s right there on your tongue. You’d happily have his baby. Imagined it in those quiet moments when your brain let you forget all the shit.
May or may have not imaged a baby with his slightly curly hair and your eyes.
You sigh as his warm hands make their way up your hips, spanning across your waist and up your back and down again. He’s breathing heavier when one tentatively slides to your lower stomach. Not in the usual way that he does, in question, to gauge how far things will go. This is something else. He gently presses his hand to your stomach.
Where his baby would be.
It’s a question. There no doubt in your mind that it’s a question.
You just nod and kiss the corner of his mouth softly. Not right now of course, not in between all the chaos but you would.
He swallows harshly melting into you, his hands gripping your waist.
“I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”
You slump against him burying your face in his neck. Any hope that this might give you some idea of how he was feeling gone. Straight back to the same thing.
“I fucked up that little girls life because I was too weak to say no to Mommy.” He growls, furious with himself. Wanting you to know it’s not you. It’s never you. “I don’t deserve shit.”
“Smurf manipulated you.” You pull away and holds his face in your hands. He shakes his head abruptly. “You were protecting your family.”
“No. I’m… I’m fucked up.” His hands grip your waist, trembling slightly, as he sets you down gently on the floor. His chest heaves, eyes dark with the only part of him you aren’t familiar with. “There are things… things even you don’t know about me.” His voice rises, a desperate pitch cracking through, and he starts pacing. “Things I’ve done!”
You reach out, grabbing his wrist. “Andrew,” you say firmly, grounding him. He freezes, back turned, and you release his wrist, wanting your words to get through to him. “I need you to listen. Really listen to me.”
Your voice trembles, soft, breaking under the weight of the moment. “You are the most fiercely loyal and protective man I have ever, and will ever, meet. You were dealt a shit hand. But you’re not just the bad things you’ve done. You’re so much more than that.”
His head shakes, a shudder running through him, shoulders rising and falling like he’s carrying the weight of the world alone. You move closer, arms wrapping around his waist from behind, pressing your face into the curve of his back. No matter which way this went you needed him to know. Know that someone loves him without conditions.
“I’m in love with you,” you whisper, voice cracking as tears soak the fabric of his shirt. “You deserve forgiveness. Whatever that looks like… you’re trying. That matters.”
He sighs heavily, it’s filled with his pain, before slowly turning into your embrace. One arm wraps securely around you, the other cradling the back of your head, pulling you close.
“Please… try,” you whisper again, voice barely more than a breath. “Not even for me… but for you.”“Shhh…” He comforts and you feel bad, you should be comforting him. “Shh, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” His voice is thick with emotion.
“Don’t be…” You cry. “Don’t be sorry.” You shake your head against his chest. “Just please… think about what I’ve said.” You pull back and stroke his face.
He nods ducking his head and sniffling. You step back and wipe your face while taking a deep breath.
You remembered a conversation you’d had with him once. Sat on the beach, again loosened by alcohol he had told you he felt like life was unfair. You agreed. His life was unfair, from Smurf to the mental illness she had probably caused his life was unfair. All he wanted was to be treated like everybody else and that’s what he loved about you. He didn’t go about life feeling sorry for himself. He just needed supporting.
Not manipulated, or tricked like Smurf did. But side by side, a helping hand and that’s what you did. Had always done for him. That’s what you were doing now.
“Go to Lena. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re there for her.” You tell him.
He shakes his head. “Get into bed.” His voice is still full of pain and your heart aches but his face was blank.
You’d given him a lot to think about when you preferred being his peace. You do as he says, letting him have back the control you know he needs in that moment. You get under the covers and lie back.
He takes off his boots and places then neatly next to your bed. He doesn’t get into the bed just lays beside you on top of the covers as he pulls you into his arms. Your head on his chest, he holds you close out of necessity.
He holds you until you fall asleep, thinking over and over about your words. How they mirror the one’s he’s been hearing in the bible study he had joined for the mega church job.
Maybe he could be forgiven. You were the best thing in his life and that’s what terrified him. Maybe you were his redemption but what if he let this happen… really happen and you became his punishment.
The thought alone filled him with pure terror. More than anything else. More than anything that happened in the prison. You and Julia were the two most important people in his life and he had already lost one.
He simply couldn’t lose you.
But that meant he couldn’t truly have you either.
Could he?
It was the day of the job and Andrew had promised you his involvement was the least risky of them all. You believed him but that could literally still mean being shot at in Andrews perception of what was risky.
So when he turned up at your door that night you jumped into his arms.
“Hey… I’m here.” He murmurs as he guides you backwards, one arm secured around your waist and the other closing and locking your door behind him. “Are you alright?”
You just nod against him as he keeps walking you backwards until your spine hits the wall, effectively trapping you. He leans his forehead against yours, one hand slipping under your shirt to rest on your lower back like he needs to feel your skin, grounding you both.
“I told you I wasn’t doing anything risky.”
“Your version of not risky and mine aren’t the same.” You tell him, pulling back to look at him. A low laugh escapes him, sending a shiver through you as he shrugs and his eyes drop to your mouth, lingering there too long before he looks back up.
You can see exhaustion there, you know he hasn’t been sleeping well recently, the job probably not helping but there is something else there too. Hunger, need.
“You worry too much.” He says as his thumb traces from your waist to your hip and back.
“Like you don’t about me?” You say with a smile.
“Always.” He says, no shame about how much he obsesses over you. He presses his face into yours again, breathing the same air. The fact he hasn’t kissed you yet, just this torturous closeness makes your skin prickle.
“Missed you today.” He says.
“You did?” You ask him gently.
“More than I can ever fucking tell you.” His voice is a rough whisper. He cups the back of your neck with a tenderness you know only you get. Looking at you, intense and vulnerable he says, “It’s always quiet… in my head.”
“When?” You ask, hoping you already know the answer as your brush your fingers through his hair.
“When I’m with you.” He confesses, voice raw. You continue to stroke through his hair, the knuckles of your other hand caressing the side of his face. His eyes close, leaning into your touch, like a man starved.
His grip on your hip falters, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt like he’s holding on for dear life, fighting a war in his own head between what he wants and what he’s terrified to loose.
“I know, handsome.” You whisper soothingly and he loses any war as his mouth crashes into yours. His hands slides down to your ass, you both groan as he squeeze before lifting you. You wrap your arms around his neck.
The passion takes you by surprise but you match it easily, happily. His phone rings in his pocket and he growls low in his throat. He ignore it and keeps kisses you. It keeps ringing persistently. He finally pulls back reluctantly pulling it from his pocket while still holding you up with one hand.
He takes one look at it and you see Baz’s name flash on the screen. You laugh as he throws it down onto the side table, giddy at the thought of him ignoring them, putting himself first. Like maybe what you’d said was getting through to him.
He smirks against your mouth as he lets you back down onto your feet but keeps you trapped against the wall. “They can wait.” He says kissing you again.
You grip his shirt pulling him in. He seems lighter now from when he stepped through your door.
The way you’re both fumbling and smiling reminds you of when you were both younger, doing things on instinct and not thinking too hard about them. But you were older now and his gaze is possessive and the way he lifts your shirt off you is worship.
The phone ring again and you glance over at it. Craig this time.
“You can answer if you want to.”
But he’s too far gone and he just shakes his head as he falls to his knees in front of you. He’s never done this before and you swallow hard as he looks up at you whilst kissing your stomach. It’s a heady feeling having someone you know is so capable, so strong, so scary to others on his knees for you. As if it’s his alter.
Emotion hits you as he nuzzles against your stomach. He might not be telling you exactly what you want to hear but it feels like he’s trying to tell you without words. He kisses just above your leggings and your eyes close as you nod.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your leggings and underwear, wasting no time, pulling them down slowly.
“Step out.” His rough vouch commands as they reach your ankles. You do as he asks your heart racing as your stood there in just your bra. Once you’ve stepped free of the fabric he pushes your legs apart with a gentle insistence, hands gripping your thighs.
“Trust me?” He asks, his mouth leaving wet kisses on the inside of your thigh.
“Always.” You say and you swear you hear him moan quietly. He lifts your thigh throwing it over his shoulder effortlessly before licking along your slit to suck gently on your clit. Your legs nearly give out. He catches your weight instantly, keeping you upright as your knees nearly buckle. He anchors your leg on his shoulder with his strong hand, the other holding your hip against the wall.
He doesn’t rush. He licks again, slow and deliberate with the pressure. He groans obscenely against your clit as though in relief at tasting you again and it vibrates in a way that makes you cry out.
“Easy…” He whispers, somewhat cockily against you as your hands grip at his hair. “I got you.”
The sounds he’s making against you alongside the deep licks and gentle sucks has you rocking your hips against him, whimpering and gasping his name.
“So fucking perfect…” He moans heatedly, turning his head only briefly to kiss the thigh on his shoulder, biting gently. He lets you roll your hips, giving you control but also guiding you with firm hands.
You’re struggling to stay up, frustrated at how close you are but can’t quite reach it while stretching and balancing on the one leg despite knowing he won’t let you fall. He notices, of course and without even breaking contact with your clit he grabs your waist, and stands just enough to lift you onto the same side table he’d thrown his phone onto.
You’re half sitting, half reclining against the wall, legs spread wide with your knees bent. He’s level with you now, no strain. “Better?” He breaths.
“Yeah…” You gasp breathlessly, desperately. You want to tell him you’ll never be able to walk past the side table without thinking of this again but his mouth is already back on your clit when his fingers enter you. It’s like everything, his problems, his world have narrowed to the way you taste, the way you sound. He sucks and licks as his fingers curl and move exactly how he knows you need it.
“I’m so close…” You gasp and he reacts immediately, a deep suck of your clit while his fingers massage inside of you. He lets out a guttural noise as he feels you tightening around his fingers, hears those soft desperate pants.
You cry out, your arms flying out to your side trying to steady yourself against the wall. You feel your fingers catch something and hear whatever it was bounce off the table but the smash barely registers as you fall apart. Your thighs clamp around his head and your back arches. He doesn’t stop just grips you closer, letting you ride it out. When you finally start to come back to earth he’s still gently lapping at your oversensitive clit.
“Beautiful…” He whispers as he kisses your thighs before standing up, over you, pressed completely into you. “Fuck..” He says as he looks down at the smashed photo frame you’d knocked off the wall.
You just nod a satisfied, happy smile on your face. The glass crunches under his boots as he shifts slightly when you reach for his belt, undoing it. His eyes lock with yours, still just as needy as he pushes his jeans down just enough to free his painfully hard cock.
He spreads your legs wider and you bite your lip as you undo the buttons of his shirt suddenly feeling overdressed. You run your palms over his chest, everything you can reach and he shudders at your touch. You push off his shirt. He steps forward, his cock dragging over your sensitive, wet pussy.
“Need to be inside you…” He kisses you hard, his tongue demanding as you feel him line himself up to your entrance.
“Please…” You moan as you try to pull him in by his waist. He pushes into you with a groan, his face dropping to your shoulder. He doesn’t move at first, just breaths deeply feeling you wrapped around him. You let your nails run along his back, digging in only enough to leave a slight mark and his eyes roll to the back of his head before he starts fucking you.
You cling to him as he wraps one leg around his hip but before he can grab the other you lift it, placing your foot on the side table beside your ass. Spreading yourself for him even more.
The angle makes him hit even deeper and you both gasp. He’s kissing you sloppily, thrusts becoming desperate, the sound of flash slapping against flesh making you blush. You tighten around him, already feeling yourself getting closer.
“Fuck…” He groans, faltering slightly. “Don’t do that. Not gonna last.” His grip on your thigh becomes bruising, his hips slamming into yours.
“Can’t help…” You try to say but you feel his hand grip your ass cheeks, pulling you into him as he fucks you, hitting a certain point that makes you lose all thought. All you can do is moan.
The sound of your voice, so needy, so lust filled pushes him closer to the edge and so he aims for that spot again and again. “Right there?” He asks and you clamp around his cock at the sound of him talking your through it.
“So good…” You practically sob. “You feel so good”
Your praise breaks something open in his chest. He holds you tighter, his fingers digging into your ass, pulling you onto his cock with every thrust into you. He pants against your skin as he reaches up to undo your bra and pull it off.
He moans your name as he wraps his lips around your nipple, hands still on your ass.
You moan his name in a way that tells him you’re close, as you pulse around him. “Come for me, sweetheart… please.” He can feel you shaking and he’s barely holding on. “So perfect…
You moan loudly as your orgasm hits you. You throw your head back but he’s watching you so closely, anticipating every move that his hand catches the back of your head before it can hit the wall. Cupping the back of your skull pulling you to kiss him deeply, fucking you through, adjusting his pace perfectly to you. “Fuck… yes…” He groans.
When you finally come down for a second time you’re a wreck and see him almost whimpering from holding back. “You’re so fucking hot…” You tell him in that voice he likes, not one you often used during sex but his hips stutter. “Come for me, handsome.” You whisper licking and kissing the skin just below his jaw.
He spills into you and you feel his cock pulsing inside you, he’s shuddering and you stroke his back, down to his ass, pulling him in deeper as he comes.
He pants your name along with “fuck…” moaning as he grinds and empties himself inside you.
You think of the conversation you’d had after the bar as you pull him into you, letting him know how much you want it. He’s grinding against you by the end, shallow thrusts as his orgasm finally ebbs.
When he finally lifts his head his eyes are blown, like you’ve seen Craigs so many times, his lips are swollen and there’s a sheen of sweat on his brow. “You…” He looks at you in a way you’re familiar with, he’d looked at you so many times the exact same way. Like he doesn’t believe you’re real. Like he’s going to wake up any second.
He cups your face, his thumb strokes your cheekbone with a tenderness that could be devastating if this all went to shit. He cradles you like you’re something precious.
Because to him, you are.
“You alright?” His voice sounds as wrecked as you feel. You just nod and he slowly pulls out of you. You look down at the floor remembering the picture frame you’d knocked off the wall. You were bare foot. Essentially trapped on the table.
Andrew pulls up his jeans and fastens them. “I got you.” He says and you wonder how many times you must have heard him say that to you over your lifetime. Wondered when the first time was. Vaguely remembering a time you fell over outside of a mall your parents took you both to.
His hands slide under your ass again but this time it’s innocent. Gentle as he lifts you so that you can wrap your legs around him and he carries you through the glass. Naked skin pressing against him, it seems to calm him.
He sets you down on the bed.
“I’m gonna go clean that up.”
“I can help.” You say knowing he won’t let you.
“No.” Says simply.
Knowing Andrew he would be out there until the tiniest shard of glass was clear at the thought it could enter your foot. He just wouldn’t let it happen.
He was like this with everything, needing it to be neat, done his way. You know better than to rush him or make him feel bad about it so you get into the shower.
You’d been in for around fifteen minutes when you get out he’s still not done but you can hear the vacuum. You walk out into the hallway in your towel, bare foot.
He looks up to see you stood in the doorway and holds up his hand. “Don’t…” He says, running a hand through his messy hair, clearly stressed. “Don’t come out here.”
“I won’t” You reassure. “Are you nearly done?” You ask gently. As much as you don’t want to push him you also don’t want him out here for hours.
He stares at you for a long moment. He knows you’re right, there isn’t a speck of glass on the floor that he hasn’t vacuumed at least three times over. But he can’t stop that push at the back of his mind.
“Five more minutes.” He can’t meet your eyes and it makes your chest heavy. “I just need to do the corners one more time.”
“Okay, handsome.” You agree. Forcing him to bed would’t help anything, you knew that by now. It got worse when something heavy was on his mind and right now there was always something heavy on his mind. “Which one was it?”
“The one of us…” He tells you, sadness in his voice. “The one of us at your twenty first birthday.” It was one of your favourite pictures. One of your favourite memories with him.
“I’ll get a new frame.” You say before leaving him to it.
You sit cross legged on the bed waiting for him, reading your book. He pauses in the doorway when he finally comes into the bedroom wondering how he could get so lucky to have someone so accepting. You just smile up at him and his heart twists in his chest, a sharp tug reminding him he isn’t worthy of this.
He murmurs that he’s going for a shower and you nod, climbing under the covers. When he walks back into the room twenty minutes later his skin has a pink tinge and his curls are wet. The towel low in his hips as he dries himself.
You’re a little shocked when he comes over completely naked but you don’t say anything just pull the covers back for him.
You lie down and pat your chest lightly. He just pauses for a moment like he’s trying to figure out if he’s allowed this. If there would be some kind of repercussion or expected compensation but then he remembers… it’s you.
He lowers his head, resting it on your chest. You stroke his back and arm, shoulders, anything you can reach with the arm that you have wrapped around him and the other plays with his wet curls.
He hums softly at the contact, relaxing even further into you.
“I’m tired.” He says as he nuzzles into your chest, his hand rubbing your stomach and ribs. You smile because it had been a while since he’d been as honest and vulnerable with you as he had tonight. He hadn’t told you what had happened to him in prison but you knew it was bad. You knew he was changed in some way.
But right now felt like your Andrew.
You kiss his forehead and the simple gesture always makes him melt. His breathing slows, syncing with the rhythm of your hand stroking his hair. Within minutes he’s breathing deeply, fast asleep but his grip still strong on your waist.
The weight of him is comforting and you fall asleep right after.
The next morning you’re happy to see he’s still fast asleep. You’ve shifted positions at some point in the night and he’s spooning you, hand spread out on your lower stomach making you shiver. Remembering that night when he looked up at you so hopefully it could have cracked your chest open.
It hadn’t been mentioned again of course.
You tried to get up but Andrew gripped you around the waist, you gasped having thought he was fully asleep.
“No.” He groans against your back and you laugh.
“I need to pee.” You tell him and shuffle your hips as if to prove the point but he only pushes his own into your ass. You feel how hard he is.
“Keep moving like that and you’re going nowhere.” He growls and you feel a different kind of tightening in your lower abdomen.
“Andrew…” You whine.
That only makes him grunt and rock his hips into you, needy little breaths leaving him.
“Straight back to bed.” He says his voice sleepy and lust filled.
You head to the bathroom and do what you need before freshening up. When you’re walking back to the bedroom you hear his phone vibrating on the side table he’d left it on the night before. You grab it for him.
It only takes one glance for your heart to sink.
Baz:
Where the fuck are you?
Are you with that chick from bible study?
You stop dead in the hallway.
A million’s thoughts spiralling and your hands, no your whole body starts shaking.
There could be a perfectly simple explanation. Of course there could.
Could you think of anything other than Andrew, your Andrew with another woman?
No.
You kept telling yourself you had no right to be angry. You weren’t together. Not really.
He had been with other women before of course but not really. It was always short lived or one night stands his brothers or even Smurf lined up for him to piss you off. Try and make him care less about you.
It had always been an uncomfortable feeling. Andrew being with another woman but you’d always been able to compartmentalise enough to live with it. Tell yourself he never really cared about them.
If Baz was asking if he was with her… that must mean something is going on. But why would he still be having sex with you? Not just sex… completely possessing you and letting you do the same to him. You had a deal. You wouldn’t have sex with each other if there was anyone else.
You should go and ask him. Of course. It’s Andrew. But asking him would mean you having to tell him it hurt you. That the thought of him touching anyone else in any context made you want to scream.
That was new. That was territory you had promised you’d let him get to in his own this time.
You had said to him.
You deserve forgiveness. Whatever that looks like for you.
Maybe that wasn’t a life with you.
Your fight or flight kicked in as sadness seeped in through the seams that pulled apart inside you. Not just sadness though. You were angry. Angry that he had been giving you hope.
None of it made sense. The little part of your brain telling you to talk to him was being drowned out by hurt.
You threw the phone onto the side table where you’d found it and went back to the bathroom, this time you lock the door. You never lock the bathroom door when Andrew is there.
Not long into your shower you hear him try the door.
“Are you alright?” He shouts through concerned.
You don’t answer. He shouts your name.
You feel guilty for the anger at him. You do. You don’t quite understand it but every time you think about you begging him to see his worth you feel so stupid.
He shouts your name sounding like he’s about to break the door down. You know he will if you don’t answer.
“Be right out.” You shout trying to sound as normal as possible.
You can just imagine him staring at the door like it’s personally responsible for him not being able to get to you.
When you get out and wrap your towel around you, you brace yourself before opening the door knowing chances are he will be stood there.
Low and behold there he is. Barefoot and shirtless, in black boxers, glaring. Looking confused and concerned with his fists clenched. He softens when he sees you, steam emanating from behind you thinking you look like an angel but still worried. You want to smooth the lines on his forehead where he’s frowning but you stop yourself.
“Sorry I forgot I’m meeting a friend this morning.” You weren’t. You just walk past him and he pads along behind you. Stands in the doorway with his head tilted like he’s trying to figure you out. Trying to get a handle on the situation.
You get dressed quickly and he catches on, starting to dress too.
“I’ll drive you.” He says. “Which friend?”
You don’t have loads of friends so you easily grab one of the few realistic names out of thin air. “I don’t need you drive.”
The wording makes him stiffen halfway through putting his shirt back on, making it not fall all the way down, looking disheveled and mad and… hot.
Even angry you wanted to leave little bites there.
You grab your keys and bag and dash away. But not before saying something. You never could help yourself.
“Check your phone. Baz has been trying to talk to you.”
And then you’re gone. Heart racing, blinking tears you don’t feel are reasonable away.
You’ve only been driving for a few minutes when your phone started ringing. You don’t answer.
You find yourself at a spot on the beach, just a random one, no significance to Andrew or the Cody’s but still the beach, the waves would always remind you of them. They endlessly made fun of you for not being a confident swimmer. Not being able to really surf. No matter how many times Andrew and his brothers tried to teach you it just didn’t stick.
Andrew would always stick close when you did go in the ocean and when you’d go a little further out he would let you wrap your arms and legs around him for intervals, to rest. Memories crash into each other, good, bad, traumatic and time rolls by as the water rolls in.
You almost imagine you’re hearing him say your name until you spot him beside you wearing a black jacket, jeans and a heavy frown.
Of course he’s found you.
“How did you know where I was?” You ask.
He looks guiltily at the phone held in your hand. You scoff and roll your eyes.
“When?” You ask.
“After that night…” He ducks his head as if to hide the way his eyes darken. “When you were chased.” He says it quietly like he doesn’t want to remind you. Dropping down onto the sand beside you as he does, a steady presence as ever as you shiver at the memory. The same cold panic gripping you for a second as you remember.
You just nod and continue to look out at the waves.
“Her names Amy.” Andrew says and you feel like the sand collapses underneath you. “She’s just part of the job.” He says sincerely and you feel like you can breathe a little easier. “Baz probably hoped you’d see it.” Your grip around your phone tightens. “She doesn’t even know my real name.”
You’re sat resting your elbows on your knees and turn to look at him. He’s already looking at you, reading you. Wishing he could do something to take that sad look from your face. Anything.
“We needed to know more about the place. Made sense for me to go to the bible studies.” You want to tell him how fucked up that is but you stay quiet. Curious. “She came up to me the first time I was there.”
You can imagine it. Had seen it before over the years, Andrew flustered in the presence of females. You’d even teased him about it in the earlier years, given him half heated advice but this time it sent your heart into your stomach.
“And?” You say a little more moodily than you meant to.
“And nothing.” He said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Are you… jealous?” He asked.
Your head snaps to face him, glaring and he lifts his hands in surrender but you see the small smirk on his face.
“Don’t look so pleased with yourself!” You tell him as you push him lightly.
“I’m not.” He says seriously. “She was just a way of finding out information we needed.”
You just blink at him and watch the cogs turning in his head, almost feel sorry for him. You shouldn’t be giving him the third degree. You weren’t together. But you’d thought…
“Fuck…” You curse covering your face. “I’m sorry… this is…” You’re spiralling again and you don’t know what to say.
You’re embarrassed and feel a little silly all of a sudden. He tries to pull your hands away from your face. Your phone drops into the sand as you fight back. You don’t want him to see you right now. You feel stupid and childish.
As he tries to pull your hands away from your face you don’t let him. Knowing he won’t use his full strength you fight back but he growls your name loosing patience fast when you push up your leg to try and get him away from you.
Before you know it he’s hooked his foot under your calf, you loose balance and as you fall back he quickly catches your forearms to stop you only to slam them above your head as you land fully laid down.
He is straddling your hips with his strong thighs and leans down so his face is right in front of yours. His eyes are intense, he’s holding back his frustration.
“Stop it.” He grits from between his teeth as you wriggle under him. You stop when pushes his forehead into yours harder, like he’s trying to fuse you both together. It reminds you of when you were kids, before everything got complicated, when you would play fight.
Cursing the fact that you always forget how good of a fighter he is you stop moving, he pushes your arms into the sand a little more. It slips between your fingers as you clench your fists.
“It’s you.” His voice doesn’t match his actions, it’s soft and frustrated rather than angry. “It’s always been you. There will never be anyone else.” The last part is a broken whisper, a vow he’s always known but never finally spoken aloud. “You know this.”
Part of you wants to argue that, no, no you don’t know this. But you’d be lying. Thats’s why seeing the message hurt so much.
You were his. And he was yours. It was a truth that didn’t need to be acknowledged.
It didn’t mean you didn’t want it to be.
His phone rang as you both stared at each other, chests heaving.
You feel him tense. He has so much going on at the moment and you soften instantly.
“Answer it.” You whisper lifting your head the tiny distance needed to kiss him once, softly.
“No.” He whispers back, lips brushing against yours.
“Please?” You say, using your most calming voice. He lets go of one of your forearms and reaches for his phone. He answers with a frown. Your free hand reaches to cup his face, he nuzzles into it, still holding one arm above your head.
The way his demeanour instantly changes tells you it’s Smurf. He eases himself off of you, standing quickly. He was being given orders. He holds out his hand to help you up and you let him. Brushing the sand off yourself. He helps with that too, especially your ass.
He abruptly puts down his phone and reaches down for your forgotten one before passing it to you.
“I gotta go.” He says clearly unhappy about it as he brushes sand from your hair softly.
“Okay.”
“Will you let me know you get home safe.” He asks. You nod despite it being a twenty minute drive.
“You’ll know. You’re tracking me apparently.” You say with a smirk. He looks a little panicked, always thinking one day he’ll do something that’s a step too far. “It’s okay. Makes me feel safer.” You tell him and he looks pleased with himself.
He walks you back to your car and you don’t speak anymore about what he said but it settled around you like a warm blanket. Secure and comforting. He kisses your temple while holding you close before watching you drive away.
When you get home you spot it straight away. The picture that had smashed was back up. Frame replaced and up on the wall.
On the side table in one of your vases were your favourite flowers.
