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self-destruct.

content: andrew cody x reader, fix it fic for season five of animal kingdom, reader is meant to be 25-30, reader is deran's friend, mostly canon compliant, A LOT of world building, reader occasionally takes place for a few pre-existing characters, frequent switch of povs, dark themes, show-compliant crimes, SPOILERS for seasons 1-5 of animal kingdom, uses transcripts of dialogue from the show, andrew's dissociation, kidnapping of a cat, their relationship is a lil toxic maybe, angst, badly written drug use, ayahuasca, smut, softdom!andrew, sub!andrew, fingering, pool sex, unprotected p in v sex, etc etc etc.

summary: dealing with smurf's death, andrew begins dissociating, distancing himself from you to try and find his footing in life. scared for his safety, you trail after him, willing to do anything to help keep him grounded.

word count: 17.7k

note: gotta say im not super happy about this one. its not the best season to self insert into lol but i tried my best to not stray too far away from canon while adding reader onto the story!!!

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The shit the guys had stolen from Andrew's uncle's ranch was beginning to cause problems.

Not only had Smurf's job been a lie to orchestrate her own death, but it had also been some sort of revenge plan against Andrew's uncle for some old feud they'd shared back before Andrew and Julia had first been born.

The only issue was that Andrew's extended family appeared to be just as insane as the Cody's themselves.

After Smurf had died, they'd made it their life's mission to get back the almost-million dollars worth of shit the Cody's had taken from them. They'd call their cells constantly, somehow finding out their numbers and that of their burners. And with time, they'd even gone as far as heading to Oceanside and raiding some of Smurf's secret properties, some of which even the guys were unaware of.

When things got too heavy, Andrew decided to take charge and orchestrate a meeting, corral them and offer them their shit back as long as they left Oceanside and never came back.

But in the end, even this deal went awry, with Andrew's cousins playing up the deal during the daylight, receiving their shit back from the Cody's before raiding their house that same night, catching them off guard. Deran had ended up getting his shoulder shot, having to deal with the police showing up at the house while the rest of you ran off with the bodies of those of Andrew's cousins the guys had managed to fight off, leaving a sole survivor — one that by Andrew's own admission, he'd let go out of mercy.

And while the guys dealt with Smurf's will, with the newfound knowledge that she'd left them out, had given all her assets to some woman named Pamela Johnson that they'd never met, you stayed behind with Andrew.

He'd enter a manic state at nights, one that you'd unknowingly sleep through most days. Although not by choice, you'd been unaware of the first few times in which Andrew dissociated, acting as an unknown presence within himself that even he'd been unaware of.

It all began escalating once you'd gone to Smurf's burial plot with Andrew — the plot she'd bought for the entire family and the place in which Julia and Baz currently resided. He'd broken down in front of the plot manager, insisting she needed to be buried there despite her having been cremated, later sneaking in with you that night so he could do it himself. He'd cried then, cried as you held him, as he held the box containing her ashes and eventually going home, giving up on his plan.

When you awoke the next morning, he'd been gone, with you finding him passed out by the pool covered in Smurf's ashes, the rest found scattered in the water. You gasped at his state, unaware of what'd happened and waking him up in the process.

"I- I don't know how this happened." he'd mumbled in a dizzy state.

"It's okay, we can try and gather as much of the ashes as we can find after we clean you up." you offered as a solution. Not a great one, but you didn't want him to feel guilty for something that'd happened that he had no control over.

You helped him wash off the ashes in the shower, offering silent support and allowing him to avert his eyes.

He was mortified, couldn't look at you straight on and feeling insane at the way in which he'd behaved. He'd always had a fear of showing that side of himself to you, paranoid that you'd see the real him and run straight for the hills. You were a big reason as to why he allowed Smurf to drug him with the antipsychotics he'd always hated taking. And now he couldn't remember the last time he'd had some.

Meanwhile, Deran dealt with the depression that accompanied his breakup with Adrian. You tried to be there for him, but being a Cody man, it was nearly impossible for him to let you in when he was so vulnerable. Trying to aid in the wounded feelings of two Cody men proved to be practically impossible, but still, you persevered, making yourself as available as possible to them both.

At some point in your relationship with Andrew, he began to quietly take care of your rent. Part-timing your stay at your new apartment and Smurf's place, Andrew had begun to pay for both halves of your now shared apartment, huffing in denial when you offered paying at least some percentage. Andrew also made it a habit of depositing copious amounts of cash into your bank account, never acknowledging your refutes with anything more than a grunt. It was safe to say that you weren't in need of cash, so your plans to go back to full-time nursing were sent to the backburner in favor of being more present in both Andrew and Deran's lives.

But even with your presence, Andrew continued to spiral.

He disappeared on you for the first time last night, leading you to waking up to an empty bed, rushing all around Smurf's in search for him. Calling his brothers and nephew proved futile, as they lost track of him far more frequently than you found acceptable.

It wasn't until a few hours later in which you were called over to the hospital, being told that Andrew had been found wandering around, knocking on doors desperately as he spoke to himself.

When you arrived, you found him sitting on a hospital bed, staring blankly at a wall. Sitting there, you watched him for a moment before taking the few steps left to make your presence known. You didn't want to spook him, still unsure of what'd happened to him.

"Hey." you called his attention.

He turned around, eyes slightly widened, eyebrows lifted.

"Oh. Hey." he mumbled. "What are you ... what are you doing here?"

His voice sounded distant.

"They called me. Heard you could use a ride." you offered.

Andrew nodded as he looked down, lips pursed.

You made the rest of the way over to his bed, sitting beside him. Your hand subtly reached over to his, hoping he'd be willing to accept some physical touch.

Although he appeared a little mortified by your presence, maybe even embarrassed that you'd shown up, found him in this state. There had been previous discussions between you, hushed late at night after you'd shared intimacy you'd only ever really known with each other, vulnerable moments in which he'd tell you about his insecurities. He'd tell you about his childhood, how easy it was for his fuse to blow, for him to lose all control and scare people away. He'd whisper these words, look away from you and tell you how scared he was you'd someday see him lose his inhibitions, see a side of him he was ashamed of.

But still, he let you hold his hand, not tightening his hold on yours but running his thumb on your skin.

"Are you hurt?"

He shook his head. "Just a scrape." he mumbled when you gestured to the small gash on his forehead.

"You worried me there, Andrew."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize." you squeezed his hand. "Just want you to know there's someone who worries when you're gone."

He didn't respond, instead blinking hard a couple of times before looking to you again.

"They, uh, they want me to stay."

"Yeah? You wanna stay?"

He shook his head, getting up and leading you up along with him.

His mood was off. It reminded you of that time in which you'd bumped into him and Amy at the church. Frustration radiated off him, as if he didn't want you to see him like this, angry at himself for putting you in this situation.

You didn't mind it. You never had. And you wished that he'd be secure in that fact. But you'd still tag along even if he closed himself up, even if his grieving process was irregular and volatile. The alternative — sitting back, leaving him behind — made you sick, had you losing appetite at the thought of him fighting all this alone.

And so you drove him back to his truck, back to the neighborhood in which he'd left it.

When you tried to probe a little, ask questions, voice your worries, he wasn't too perceptive, shutting down any possible help instead.

"They go to school for all that shit, I guess." he huffed as you looked for the neighborhood he'd been picked up at. "That's how they get in your head, you know? Press on things."

"You mean the psychologist?"

One had spoken to him at the hospital. He'd told you as much when you first got in the car.

"Yeah, they can really get you."

It's not like you'd expected Andrew to be open about such a subject. From what you'd guessed, Smurf probably fed him with lies about therapy, making him feel inadequate when he felt his brain not work the same as other kids, when he couldn't process his emotions in the same way as everyone else. He'd grown like this, completely detached from his own emotions and being raised into what Smurf hoped to be a hollow machine that responded only to her. She'd ruined his love map, and gladly so.

Still, you tried to steer him in the right direction.

"That's not always the case." you started softly. "Sometimes talking to someone can help."

"I talk to you."

You smiled sadly. "Yeah, and I'm happy that you do. But sometimes you need to-"

"Stop the car. It's here." he interrupted, louder than the hushed voice he'd been speaking in all day.

"Andrew? Your car isn't here-"

But he'd already gotten out of the car, turning back to you before you could get off. He was usually insistent on opening your door, helping you off, but today he'd done something different.

"Stay in the car. Go. I'll find a way home."

He appeared distraught, a little distracted as he looked around the place, trying to place its familiarity.

"Andrew, wait-"

You were interrupted again, this time by a louder, more frustrated voice. He was angry.

"Go. I'll see you at home."

That shut you up, making you nod sadly at him before mumbling a quiet 'okay' to him. The 'take care' and 'please come home' stayed stuck in your mouth, unsure if he'd get angrier if you voiced them.

Sad, you drove off, far too worried to be leaving him behind, but not wanting to cause him enough stress to lose sense of time and place again. His life had been stressful enough as of late.

This was the first time Andrew had even risen his voice at you, the first time he'd ever looked to you with eyes that made you want to take a step back. Andrew had never once provoked anything other than comfort in you (worry at times, but from a place of love). This was foreign behavior from him, but you couldn't help but be more worried than hurt by it.

You went home, a little sad still, but understanding that Andrew's grief was just causing some misplaced frustration.

From the day you'd met Deran, you'd known Andrew to be more volatile than most, had been told by his younger brother about his moods and the unchecked mental health issues he clearly dealt with. You'd never minded any of these things, always willing to adjust and provide him with the acceptance he'd never received from anyone else.

It'd been long ago that Andrew told you about the pills Smurf would sneak into his food, embarrassed as he told you that he needed them, that his mood swings would become extreme and that he'd hear voices in his head when he didn't have them. Smurf had always had full control over them, and Andrew had never wanted anything to do with any of it all, feeling like he was a monster being tamed whenever he took them. But it'd been that same day that he admitted to taking them because of you, because he wanted to be fully present for you.

You wondered to yourself if he'd continued taking them after she'd died.

When you arrived home, you sighed at the party full of college freshmen going on in the backyard, walking over to Deran to complain about it.

"Yeah, I know, dude, you don't have to say anything." he waved you off before you could speak. "That kid's acting weird lately. Don't trust him." he said, referring to J.

"He's 19. Weird age to be. Specially with the lifestyle you guys have."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Just pissed I gotta deal with all his shit." he grumbled, looking to the backyard with annoyance. "Just keep an eye out for him, okay?"

Those were his last words before he marched outside to talk to the kid himself. And though tensions were growing between Deran and J, you couldn't really bring yourself to care. They all had periods of time in which they hated one another. The tides would change eventually.

Not really wanting to hole yourself up in Andrew's room and unwilling to go outside and hang out with kids almost a decade younger than you, you sat on the steps leading to the sunken living room, elbows on your knees and palms scrunching your cheeks as you pressed your face on them.

You only sat there for a few minutes before you felt a presence beside you. You heard footsteps, taking note of that familiar gait you'd grown so used to, but keeping your eyes zeroed in on the floor in front of you.

The presence sat itself down beside you, groaning lightly at the feel of the hardwood material of the steps.

"Hey."

"You're back." you mumbled.

"Yeah."

Andrew stayed quiet for a minute, and so did you. Didn't really have much to say at that moment.

"I'm sorry about earlier."

He was looking at you as you continued to look forward. Even without looking at him, you could tell the difference in his demeanor. This time it was open, facing you and silently begging for you to do the same.

"It's okay."

You weren't really convinced as you said it.

"No, it's not." he sighed. "I keep ... I keep treating you like shit. You don't deserve that."

"I understand." And you really did. You were hurt, but that was only momentary.

"Can you look at me?"

You swallowed before turning your body to his, saddened by how tired he looked. He was probably not sleeping, having lost a few hours of consciousness every day this past week. The poor guy was likely staying up every night of the week, walking around and doing things without even realizing it.

"I'm sorry. I won't shut you out again."

You smiled lightly ay him, taking his hand, frowning when he flinched.

"I'm not angry, Andrew, okay? I promise."

"But you're sad, right? I made you sad."

"Just because I worry about you." you assured, squeezing his hand.

Then you felt the hospital wristband still on his wrist.

"Still got this on?"

He shrugged. "Didn't wanna rip it."

"Here, let me."

He offered you his wrist, something you knew he'd be too closed off to do so willingly with anyone else. Hell, maybe even with you earlier in the day.

"You just pull the tab." you said as you did so. "There's a bit of a trick to these things."

Once it was loosened, you gave it back to him, receiving a tiny curl of his upper lip in return. It was a start.

"You picking up more shifts at the hospital lately?"

Shaking your head, you stood up, with him following along.

"Not really. I'd rather be here with you more often, if that's okay with you."

"Of course it's okay."

His hand nudged yours then, taking hold of it and squeezing it once it was in his grasp. You walked towards the patio together, neutral and even leaning towards positive by then. But then Andrew spotted J on the other side of the glass, letting go of your hand as he marched towards him, steam practically coming out of his nose. Deran sat on the sidelines as you also stood there and watched.

"We should collect up her stuff, start scouting new jobs." J started before Andrew interrupted him, angry.

"You shouldn't have done it. You shouldn't have shot her." he heaved. "You shot her right in front of us."

J didn't say anything as he walked away, giving up on a conversation with either of his uncles. Deran simply nodded at you, gesturing so you'd go get Andrew and maybe check on him. It was something you'd had done either way, but you appreciated that he at least cared enough to suggest it.

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Over the next few days, Andrew continued to disappear every so often. He'd warn you about it beforehand, telling you that he needed to clear his head, stay out of the house after having been locked in for so long due to Smurf. You remained worried, but you accepted it, knowing that staying around and dealing with Smurf's will and state would only add on to his stressors, making it more likely for him to dissociate.

He'd come back every night, kiss your bare shoulder as he snuck into bed with you and tell you he loved you.

But you didn't mind his absence too much. If it was what he felt he needed to do as he navigated his mourning process, you understood.

Deran agreed when you brought up your grievances to him, telling you that Andrew had always had the habit of wandering off when things became too much. That it wasn't personal and that he'd never seen him eager to return back home as he always did with you.

In the meantime, J and Deran fought each other over leadership around the house, and since you lived there too, you found yourself having to back up your friend quite often. This didn't help you much in establishing a relationship with J, but you'd grown to realize he didn't seem to like anyone around the house very much. You joined Deran and Andrew in their suspicions of him.

Deran had gone off to meet Pamela a few days back, resulting in a call from her that same morning requesting a meeting with the family. Practically being a member at that point (living there with Andrew and having been around for over two years), Deran insisted you stay for lunch, claiming that maybe having a girl in the house would ease up whatever Pamela had planned. The fear of being kicked out and losing everything Smurf had accumulated over the years was ever so present.

When Andrew came back that day, Pamela revealed herself to have known Andrew as a kid, having taken care of him and Julia as children. The whole thing made Andrew uncomfortable, that much was clear to you. He ended up running off soon after, marching away and yelling out that he had something to do when J tried to stop him.

The guys had some job with Pamela to do. She'd forced her hand, claiming that if they helped her, she'd pass the state over to them.

But you didn't care.

Deran understood when you walked away that day, heading off to work so you could take your mind off things while Andrew ran off once again. He told you he'd call you when he came back, that he'd check on him if anything came up.

And when you got a call from Deran later that day, telling you about how Andrew snuck back into the house, rummaging through his room with clear indication he'd be leaving again soon, you clocked out as soon as you could and ran back to the Cody house.

"You're leaving?" you asked as you walked into what was now yours and Andrew's shared bedroom.

He was surprised as he looked up, moves faltering while he packed his duffel bag.

"I ... yeah. I- I thought you were at work."

"So, what, you were just going to leave without saying anything?"

"You don't understand. I need to leave." he reasoned, already becoming exasperated.

"Where do you plan to go?" you walked towards him, hands taking hold of his limp ones as they rested above a pile of clothes on his bed.

He let you hold onto him, but his body language remained closed-off. You were one of the only people who he opened himself up to, not only emotionally, but physically. You'd learned how to approach him in moments like this, with your touch usually aiding in allaying his nerves, but he'd been immune as of late.

"I don't know." he started, sniffling. "I'm confused. When I went to get my truck back, they said I'd been wandering around, knocking on doors ... looking for Julia." he looked to you then, bloodshot eyes and voice shot.

You inhaled, biting your lip to stop yourself from making any sound. Even if you were worried beyond belief, you didn't want to deter him from speaking. Your worries could take a backseat for the time being.

"I'm blacking out! I'm looking for ghosts!" he began losing control, voice raised. "I'm hearing voices! I'm hearing Smurf's voice in my head! Everywhere I look, I see her everywhere!"

His breath was heavy, chest caving as he tried to catch his breath. Now a few steps away from you, having begun to pace around the room as he avoided your eyes, losing control of himself the more than he spoke, he heaved.

The room felt heavy. As if a pin could drop and destroy everything. But you knew Andrew. You'd never seen him in such a state, but you knew him, had been there for him through many horrible experiences already and were determined to be there for this one too.

You took a few steps towards him as he cried, hands clenched in fists and eyes zeroed in on the floor. He sobbed, unable to hold himself back anymore.

"I can't stay." he cried as you stood in front of him.

"Hey." you cupped his face, making him look at you. "Listen to me. If you want to go, you can go." you swallowed. "The guys will understand, okay? You've taken care of them for so long, now they'll take care of things, okay? You go and do whatever it is you gotta do and then you come back to them."

He looked to you with sadness in him, lips pouty and eyes worried. His breath was still heavy, but he was a bit more calm now.

"But I'm coming with you."

He snapped out of his daze then, cheeks wet and your hands still cupping them. He pulled you off him, hands circling your wrists and softly pulling them away as he shook his head.

"N-no, I- I need to do this alone. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want-"

"Andrew. I'm not asking." your voice was stern. "You want to go? You want to get away from here? I'm coming along. I will not wait here to get a call that something happened to you, okay? I told you before — wherever you go, I go."

You saw the realization hit his face. His eyes closed and he shook his head to himself, like he was recalibrating. He remembered your words, thinking back to when Smurf first died, to the time in which you'd first spoken those words to him.

"Okay." he nodded softly.

You wrapped your arms around him, one hand going to his hair and pulling his head to rest on your shoulder — something you always knew brought him comfort.

"Please don't try to run off behind my back next time." you were sad as you said it, voice meek and weak. "I don't know what I'd do if you disappeared on me, Andrew."

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After packing a small duffel bag, the two of you headed out. There was a slightly tearful goodbye shared by Deran and Adrian, with Craig completely out of the loop as he continued to hang around Frankie. You gave your farewell to Deran as Andrew loaded up his truck, unknowing of when you'd come back but promising to make sure you did so eventually.

It felt like hours that you were in that car, sat on the passenger's seat as Andrew drove aimlessly. The desert felt endless, the heat in the car killing you despite the air conditioner blaring.

Slightly clammy and exhausted form the upwards of six hours of driving you'd been doing, you couldn't help but fall asleep as the sound of the car moving lulled you into slumber.

You couldn't help yourself. Before coming home to Andrew as he packed his bags, you had just worked a five hour shift at the hospital, cutting it short to head back home when Deran called you. Though it didn't sound like much, coupling it with the sudden trip, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore.

So far, the ride had been pretty calm. Though Andrew still looked a little antsy, the two of you had had a pleasant time so far. He'd stopped at some point to buy you food, insisting despite you wanting him to drive for as many hours straight as he wished. You'd opted out of turning on the radio, instead telling him about work, happy he'd ask questions with that childlike wonder he usually had when something piqued his curiosity.

But your mistake had been falling asleep as he continued to drive. You were only half lucid by the time you'd awoken enough to hear some of his rambles.

He was speaking to himself, mumbling nonsense into the quiet air of the car.

"This is what you want? This is what you wanted? This is what you wanted? Huh?"

When you began opening your eyes, you could see Andrew as you hugged your knees on your seat, facing his direction and gasping yourself awake when you made out what he was doing.

One of his hands was off the wheel, holding onto his gun as he pressed it against his chin. But before you could say anything, before he could notice you'd been awake, the car swerved harshly, his distracted self being unable to pay attention to the road as he threatened himself.

Luckily, he'd been able to catch onto the wheel before crashing into the car driving on the lane Andrew had accidentally wandered off to, swerving the car in a full 180 before halting off to the side of the road, the wheels now stopped and on the sand rather than on the pavement of the road.

"Jesus Christ." you groaned when the inertia caused the side of your head hit the back of your seat.

Andrew looked to you, eyes frantic.

"Are you okay?" it was as if the gun had been completely forgotten, the threats he'd been barking at himself out of mind.

You rubbed at the side of your head, sitting up and taking off your seatbelt as you nodded to him. You wouldn't bring up the gun just yet. He hadn't seen you see him. To ask him about it directly would just make him close up. You'd done this dance before.

"Maybe we should get out of the car for a bit." you suggested.

He nodded, taking off his own seatbelt and getting out of the car. You went to do the same, but he was faster, having already rounded the car, hand on the external handle of your door, opening it and holding his hand out to you.

You'd forgotten how unknowingly romantic Andrew could be due to the events of these past few weeks. It made you sad, thinking about how many things must be wrecking him from the inside for him to hold up a gun to himself even as you slept beside him. You'd do anything in your power to help him realign with himself, follow his every whim if it meant he'd be nicer to himself.

You pouted to yourself, taking his hand and thanking him with a kiss to his cheek as you jumped off your seat.

The two of you walked side by side towards the makeshift road you'd accidentally swerved into. A sign was propped there, one which drew Andrew in, with you walking just a few steps behind him as he neared it.

'WHO ARE YOU? FIND THE TRUTH' it read.

He looked to you quietly, eyes wandering to the path it signaled towards as he pursed his lips.

"Wanna go check it out?" you asked.

"Yeah."

And with that, he led you back to the car, hand holding yours all the way to the door and opening it for you in the same way he'd let you out. Before closing the door back up, he leaned in, thumb caressing your cheek hesitantly before your own hand went up to his, pressing it firmer against you and turning your head momentarily so you could kiss the front of his palm.

"I love you, you know?" you said, hoping not to give yourself away, but needing to at least voice it.

"I know. Thank you for coming with me."

He got into the car after that, driving into the path that led further into the desert.

As you sat there in silence, you thanked yourself too, glad you'd come, glad to have put a dent in his plan to self destruct all on his own.

-

Driving up the hill slowly, you found yourselves at what seemed to be some sort of makeshift community.

The people were scarce, but the flora and fauna was vast, with gates caging goats, cows, small structures where fruits and vegetables were likely to be growing. A few other painted signs decorated the place, all portraying some sort of spirituality.

Andrew was usually drawn to spirituality.

He'd told you in hushed whispers shared in bed of the origin of his nickname; Pope. Embarrassed, he'd looked away from you, afraid you'd mock him in the same way Baz and Smurf had, how even Julia had, laugh at how he'd so stupidly believed in the church as a teen, how desperate he'd been for acceptance he'd ended up with a name that followed him for the rest of his life.

But you didn't. You held his hand, telling him you respected his beliefs despite not wholeheartedly sharing them. You told him you'd go back to church with him any day he so wished, but you weren't surprised when he declined. He'd been too traumatized by the whole Andrew 'Pope' Cody ordeal from his teens.

When he'd been drawn to Amy and the church a few years ago, you had assumed he'd just gotten caught up in it. But it didn't take you long to realize that he was just confused about his beliefs, that the general idea of unconditional love and forgiveness drew him in more than anything. Maybe that'd been why he'd never fought against the name Pope.

Once parked, you headed towards a greenhouse, finding a man gardening right by it. You exchanged a look with Andrew before silently agreeing to go to him and inquire about the place.

The man appeared nice. He was your average Joe, friendly as he smiled at you and Andrew. He'd been pushing at a small wheelbarrow as the two of you approached, halting his movements to give you his full attention.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Those your signs out on the road?" Andrew asked.

"They are." he let go of the wheelbarrow altogether, setting it in place and walking closer to you.

"What is this place?"

"It's the Kinship of Light and Truth." he explained. "I'm Mickey, ordained minister, state of California."

"This is a church?" you asked as your eyes wandered.

There were more people around, working on the place. It was all very makeshift, but clearly established enough to hold multiple members.

The man pursed his lips. "We don't label it."

"All these people, they live out here?"

"Mm. Some of them, yeah. You guys got names?"

You guys gave your names, with you extending your hand out while Andrew remained stagnant.

"It's a pleasure. You guys look like you've been on the road a while."

Andrew nodded, eyes squinted due to the heavy sun. "Yeah. We drove south and then east. Went back north, and now we're here."

"Why are you here?" the man asked.

"I don't know." Andrew answered before you could.

That made the man smile, patting Andrew's shoulder. "That's good. That's the first step."

The two of you wandered around the place for a bit after that, never straying too far away from each other. Andrew continued mumbling to himself occasionally as you took in the place, finding various colorful paintings and handmade crafts decorating the place.

At some point a bell rang, and people began walking towards what seemed to be a dining area. There was a bar, though the man from earlier sat on the outside of it rather than the inside as he handed people drinks. They lined up for them, receiving them one by one before taking a seat in one of the many chairs nearby.

You and Andrew walked towards him, reluctantly joining the line.

Andrew lined before you, frowning when the man held up a small cup to him.

"Nah, drugs don't work on me."

The man handed it to you instead, already working on serving another one for Andrew.

"It's not a drug. It's a tool. First step to finding the truth."

"What truth?" Andrew asked.

"That's what you're looking to find out." the man chuckled.

Meanwhile, you continued to stand there, eyeing the cup you'd been handed.

It was a drug. Ayahuasca, to be more specific.

Although not particularly dangerous, — specially not in the form of a singular shot — you were iffy about Andrew consuming it in his current state. But more than anything, you were unsure about you consuming it. It'd make your inhibitions skewed for the few hours in which it's effect lasted, meaning you wouldn't be able to ensure Andrew didn't go off the rails.

But at the same time, maybe a psychedelic would help Andrew right now. Now that he was off his meds, unaware of how or when to get back on them (and so far unwilling to accept any help to figure it out), maybe this would be a good step towards actually getting him medicated.

"Come on." the man insisted, nudging the drink towards Andrew.

"No."

The man got up, more insistent now. "This is our sacrament. You want to stay, you- you drink. If you don't wanna drink, you just- keep on driving."

Andrew looked to you, unsure of what to do.

You shrugged. "What have you got to lose?"

The two of you walked towards a seat nearby, sitting side by side as you held your drinks up.

"Are you sure about this?" he whispered to you.

"It's up to you, Andrew. We can take care of each other in case anything happens." you assured, clicking your glass with his as you nodded at the drink.

You acted fast as he tipped his back, eyes closed, only taking a tiny sip as you tilted yours towards your mouth. You let it drop beneath you into the dirt under your feet, quickly using your shoes to rub at the dirt it'd dampened, making sure any mark of it disappeared. It all happened during the few seconds in which Andrew chugged his back, wincing and shutting his eyes at the strange taste. You had sat far enough from the rest of the group to think twice about anyone else seeing you dump the drink. And if Andrew noticed, he didn't say anything.

His lips curled a little when you clinked your empty glasses again, smiling at him and wiping at his lower lip with your thumb, sucking on the tiny drop of ayahuasca that had escaped his mouth when he chugged it.

You felt bad lying to him, but there was a chance the psychedelic wouldn't even work on him, and you didn't want to risk being the only one high and out of commission when you were supposed to be making sure Andrew remained out of more trouble than you could handle. Worse came to worst, you could probably handle a high Andrew for the six or seven hours in which the drug remained in his system.

Within half an hour, you could see the drug taking its effect in the people at the camp, but you remained mostly focused on Andrew. It took him longer, but it eventually came to him. His eyes were glazed and his demeanor slightly dizzy.

"I'll- I'll be right back." he mumbled as he got up from his seat, swaying a bit as he walked towards the area of the camp where the paintings had been set up.

You nodded, but still followed behind as he left the populated area of the camp.

Your silence only lasted a few moments before his demeanor started to worry you. He was confused, inspecting his own hands and with his movements lagged.

"Hey." you called his attention. "You okay?"

Even as he turned to you, his movements were slow and straggled. He'd never been high before, probably completely unaware of how to act. He always described his mind as fuzzy, but this type of fuzzy was likely brand new to him.

"Hey." he stumbled as he turned to you, but your hands caught him before he could, landing on his chest and inching towards his cheeks.

"Can you feel it?"

"Oh, oh, oh." he gasped.

"Look at me."

You pulled him close, noses almost touching. "You're okay. Tell me what you see when you look at me."

"I- I see somebody I used to know." he whimpered. "I'm sorry ... She made me do it."

Fuck.

That wasn't the effect you'd expected. You could still hear the other attendees laughing with one another from your secluded spot. You hoped that would've been him too.

You didn't want this to pain him too. His reality was already too painful. You didn't want to send him to another that would also hurt him.

Your hands circled his head, running softly through his hair as you pulled him into your shoulder. You felt him cry and whimper there, strong arms rounding your frame and holding you close. His strength almost brought you down as he tried to ground himself, but you remained standing with him, holding onto him until he calmed down.

Eventually, you pulled away again, hands cradling his cheeks once more as you stared at him. He looked vulnerable, tired. Like all his defenses were down and he was left there at your mercy.

He looked beautiful as he stared at you with a lost look in his eyes.

And you told him as so.

"You're gorgeous, Andrew."

He blinked hard a few times, mouth opening and closing as if he was struggling to let out words.

"You- you're-"

He couldn't really form a coherent sentence in his current state. He was still getting used to the feeling, still finding his footing. But still, you could see his lip curl slightly, while his eyebrows furrowed.

"I need you to stay with me, okay? Here and always."

He nodded a little childishly. "You'll stay too?"

And you nodded back, pulling him close again.

-

You eventually went back to the group, lounging around with them once Andrew's mood shifted to a less emotional one.

He took his time showing you every scar he could find on his arms (and there were sadly too many to count). Not lucid enough to remember the nights in which he'd shown and explained each one to you. You decided to ask him questions, engaging in conversation as he explained the story behind each one, though this time with excitement as his eyes lit up every time you asked him to explain yet another one.

"What's this one from?" you pointed to one on his forearm.

You knew what it was. It had been Baz. Some dumb fight that Baz had started, but had ended up blaming Andrew for. He'd told you about it two weeks into dating, and you'd cursed at Baz under your breath, earning yourself one of the first belly-laughs you'd ever received from Andrew.

Still, you let him explain it to you again.

"My brother."

"Your brothers get rough a lot, huh?" you chuckled. It was like talking to a kid.

"No, it wasn't his fault." he furrowed his eyebrows, as if convincing himself rather than you. "It was my fault. And nothing was his fault. It was all my fault."

"No, it's not, Andrew." you frowned, hand reaching the scar on his forearm and running your thumb over it. "None of it was your fault-"

But before you could talk Andrew down, a third voice interrupted. It came from behind you, but Andrew zeroed in on it immediately.

"You." the voice called.

You turned around from your seat on the floor, facing the guy in question. He had a look of disdain in his eyes. Appeared young, but his anger was heavy as he pointed at Andrew and spat out his words.

"Get him out of here."

Mickey, the man from earlier, — lucid, as you could tell — interrupted, stepping in between Andrew and the other guy.

"Brian, easy man-"

"Why is he looking at me like that?" Andrew asked.

"Hey, easy, easy. Everybody's welcome here. Sit, sit. Come on. Breathe, Here." he tried to calm Brian down, but his eyes were glued to Andrew, posture frigid as he frowned at him.

You stood, creating an extra barrier between the man and Andrew.

"There's something wrong with him." he continued.

"Hey. Leave him alone." you interjected.

"I don't like this." another voice interrupted.

"He's nothing but darkness." Brian spoke again, still being held back by Mickey.

"Stop talking to him like that." you practically barked at him.

Andrew remained sat and quiet, but when you looked back you found a mixture of anger and hurt in his eyes.

"Don't listen to him." you told him.

"He said I'm darkness."

"I see you. You don't fool me." Brian smiled maniacally, making you scowl at him. "Your darkness. It's inside you. I can see her."

"Make him shut up." you almost growled at Mickey.

More of the camp members began to speak up, stating they agreed with Brian, that they could see the darkness in Andrew, that he was starting to scare them.

Andrew stood up then, a scared look in his eyes as everyone turned to him and spoke over one another, calling him a devil, any thought process behind their words completely gone due to their high. But they spoke with such certainty that their words reached Andrew, who was also high and whose defenses were low.

His posture diminished as he hid his face in his hands, breathing heavy and unknowing of how to react.

"Andrew, give me your keys. Let's go." you crowded him, hands grabbing his arms and leading him away.

It took some effort, but he listened to you in the end, walking away with you as he looked back every so often, flinching any time another accusation of being evil or the devil was thrown at him.

You knew he wouldn't remember this in a few hours, but you couldn't help but feel like shit at that moment. He appeared hurt, eyes downcast as you walked him over to the passenger seat, taking your turn to drive.

-

You drove around long enough for most of the effects to wear down. He was mostly sleepy by the time the sun set, and so you parked the car down the side of an empty road in the middle of the desert, leading him out of the car with you.

You walked around as you watched the stars. Andrew wandered around and you walked a few steps behind him, eyeing up to look at the dark sky every so often.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Not really sure. But I can't keep driving."

"We shouldn't stay here."

He said it in an alarming yet petulant tone. His steps also mimicked those of a toddler, heavy and slow as he eyed the road, pointing at the white lines drawn on it.

You couldn't help yourself in giggling at him. Specially as he blinked his eyes wide, mouth opening and closing to try and process his surroundings, to check his senses.

"What are you laughing at?"

"The way you're looking at the road."

"It's moving." he pointed. "Look."

"Okay, let's lay down for a while, yeah?" you went to him, still giggling a little but now guiding him to the ground.

You had to use all your strength to get him to bend his knees and lower himself to the floor, but you were able to sit him down, pushing his chest so he'd lay down completely.

You laid side by side under the darkness for a while. There was a comfortable silence between you as you rode Andrew's high. You weren't sure if it had helped him relax at all, but it wasn't likely to last through the night, so it made no difference now.

"You shouldn't listen to what that kid Brian said." you spoke up.

"He was scared of me. A lot of people are."

You frowned. "I'm not."

"Good." he faced you.

You rolled over so you could face him too.

"Feeling good?" you asked.

"Yeah. I ... I feel great." he smiled with his teeth.

Fuck.

He was gorgeous when he smiled. You found yourself wishing he'd do it more often.

You giggled, hoping to entice him into joining you. And you were happy to see that he followed along, laughing when you got back up on your feet and pulled at his hands to help him sit up again.

It was a mostly unfamiliar laugh to you, but you took it all the same.

You felt a drunk, liberal feeling take over you as you took in his laughter. It was contagious. The sound made you wanna do anything possible to bring it about over and over again.

So you took his hand and dragged him with you, running in circles under the starry night sky in the middle of the desert. It was childish, immature, but you were sure Andrew hadn't had a chance to be either of those things throughout his life. Maybe it wouldn't last long, but you wanted to take in his carefree mood for as long as you could.

➽──────────────────❥

You spent a few more days driving around.

It had now been about a week of sleeping in the car and living off gas station food. You slept in the tiny space of the backseat, cuddled up against each other as Andrew woke up every so often, walking a few laps around the car in the middle of the night and kissing your forehead back to sleep when you'd wake up with him. It wasn't your preferred form of pastime, but you could feel Andrew relax as the days went by.

But with his highs would come his lows.

He'd been pretty calm after your rendezvous with the spirituality group. Getting high had proved to be beneficial, at least temporarily. It had let him vent, cry, laugh, let out any pent up emotion he felt like he needed to keep locked away and all to himself.

It'd been more highs than lows so far. And even after the high wore off, Andrew continued to let himself more loose than usual.

Today, he'd driven you to an abandoned car off to the side of the road. You were miles away from the road itself, surrounded by miles and miles of nothing. Wanted to teach you how to shoot, he'd said. Something about Deran not being as good a shot as he was, and that he'd probably have to re-teach you everything Deran had shown you.

You were anxious around guns still. Even while living surrounded by a group of men who had all either killed before or been an inch away from doing so, you remained weary around their weapons. Knowing how to shoot a gun was one thing, but being experienced at it was something you were not hoping to achieve.

"You need to relax." he explained. "I mean, when you're shooting."

He was right. You didn't enjoy shooting it. Not outside of a shooting range, out in the middle of nowhere. Even if no people were around. But you understood why Andrew had insisted. It was important to him that you knew how to defend yourself.

"Relax. Okay." you nodded to yourself.

Andrew knelt beside you, looking up at you as you shot at the banged up car a few meters away from you.

You shot again, this time more decisively, not shaking this time around.

"It feels kind of weird. Does it feel weird to you?"

"It feels different every time."

"More?" you asked and he nodded, taking the gun as you handed it to him and reloading it. He'd taught you that too, but opted to do it for you instead.

He walked away as you inspected the gun, stepping closer to the car you'd been shooting at. His silence was heavy and sudden. The view only provided you his back, but you could still see the pensive look in his eyes. It was one you'd grown more familiar with these past few weeks.

He turned around and looked to you, eyes intense and fists balled at his sides. His frame blocked your view of the car, putting himself between your gun and the car. When you furrowed your eyebrows at him, he simply nodded.

"Do it."

You shook your head.

"You want me to shoot you?" there was no emotion in your voice, unable to take him seriously. He didn't actually want this. You wouldn't do it, not even come close to considering it, but you still found yourself asking.

"It's okay."

"No."

"I deserve it."

You scoffed, shaking your head. But even if you wanted to remain headstrong, pick an argument rather than cry at his self-destructive tendencies, your eyes still burned as tears formed in them. Your head hurt from the tension building in your jaw.

"Andrew, no, you don't."

"I deserve it." he repeated, this time more decided.

Taking some steps towards you, he bared his teeth. There was anger in him. But it wasn't directed towards you. The closer he got, the more distanced you could see his gaze became. His words weren't aimed at you. His mind was fuzzy, with Andrew not being fully there anymore.

His gaze lowered, voice hushing. "She wanted me dead."

"She doesn't matter." you argued back.

The parallel must've been clear to him.

The gun, him, Smurf — you.

His mind was playing tricks on him, likely flashing back to the moment in which Smurf pointed her gun at him, voice altered in a similar fashion to yours as she begged him to kill her, threatening to end his life if he didn't.

He felt he deserved this, had been told he did countless times throughout his life.

Hands suddenly gripped yours, forcing you to press the gun to his chest against your will. The strength of his grip was too strong for you to let go, and you were too scared to make any sudden movements, knowing the gun was loaded and its safety remained off.

"She wanted to kill me."

"She was wrong." you spit out.

You felt a mixture of anger, fear, sadness. The drugs had worn off into the night, but he was still volatile. You didn't know how to handle this.

"She knew what I was." his voice broke, eyes looking to yours before leaving your gaze in shame. "She knows what I am."

"Do it." he insisted again.

"Smurf didn't know shit." you shook your head. "I'm not gonna do that."

His grip loosened at your words, and you took the opportunity to lower the gun, throwing it to the side and wrapping your arms around him in a haste.

To your surprise, he broke down after that. His arms wrapped around you in that all too familiar manner, engulfing you in his frame as his face dug into the crook of your neck. He cried then, apologizing into your neck over and over again. The words became babbles eventually, his head shaking along with them. But you understood.

"Don't do that again." you pleaded once he'd quietened down.

He apologized again, eyes downcast and a little overcome by his emotions still.

-

"What do you think about staying somewhere tonight?"

"Yeah? Tired of the backseat?"

He shrugged as he drove. "Just know of a place nearby."

It was a tempting offer. One you took, a little cramped already after spending over a week straight sleeping in the tiny space provided by the backseat. You'd offered an attempt at laying some blankets on the back of the trunk, but Andrew had outright rejected it, too paranoid about sleeping out in the open, specially not wanting to risk anything happening to you.

When you agreed, Andrew took a detour from your current destination (if you even had one to begin with). You arrived at the outskirts of some town, heading towards some houses scattered here and there as the city began to show in the distance.

It took you a while to realize that your surroundings were beginning to look familiar. You were laid back on your seat, mostly looking at Andrew as he drove, not really caring where it was that you ended up.

You sat up as soon as you took notice of the house Andrew was currently parking at.

"Andrew ... What are you ...? How do you even know this place?"

The large house looked back to you, everything looking pretty much the same as it had a few years back. The walls kept their seashell color, the plants even remaining almost unscathed after the passing of the years. The door you walked through countless times kept its grey marble color.

It was your ex's house.

You'd mentioned him to Andrew in passing. Your only other serious relationship before moving away to Oceanside and entering Deran's life.

The relationship hadn't necessarily ended in an amicable way. The guy had kept what was supposed to be your shared kitten, only out of spite. You'd shared this information with Andrew a few weeks back, which was why you guessed he'd driven you here.

Andrew was a vengeful guy, more so when it came to those that came after his loved ones — even if it had happened far before the two of you even met.

He shrugged, putting the car on park and undoing his seatbelt as he turned to look at you. "Called in a favor with J. He got me the address."

"What are we doing here?" you continued not to move, seatbelt still on.

"It's empty. We're staying here for the night."

You scoffed, amused. "You're crazy."

Surprisingly, he chuckled. "Maybe."

Against your better judgment, you followed after him as he got out of the car, pulling a shiv out of his pocket and lockpicking the main entrance.

"He got any cameras around here?"

You shrugged. "He didn't back then. But it was really long ago."

"Why'd you break up, again?" he asked, though he already knew. Something told you that even if you hadn't told him, he would've found out on his own.

"Asshole cheated on me. Threw all my shit out and changed the locks when I found out."

Andrew scoffed to himself, pulling a little harder than he needed as he picked the lock and breaking the mechanism of the door altogether. Probably wouldn't be able to properly close anymore. Hell.

"He's lucky he's not here." he mumbled under his breath, walking you in as if he owned the place — which, all things considered, he could've if he so wanted.

"C'mon. Let's swim." you grabbed his hand, guiding him to the patio you'd once lounged around on a regular basis.

It was weird coming back, but it didn't really inspire any nostalgia in you. You'd uprooted your life and moved to Oceanside once things were done with your ex, only really leaving behind your cat.

Which appeared to be nowhere to be found.

"Did the asshole get rid of your cat?" Andrew wondered out loud as he took the place in.

"Probably gave it to his sister." you shrugged as you threw off your shirt, looking back at Andrew as you walked past him and towards the pool. "C'mon, shirt off."

"Didn't you want your cat back?" he took a few steps closer, but he was still distractedly looking around, surveying the area as if he'd be able to spot your cat somewhere.

"I miss her. But he was an asshole. I never really expected to get her back."

By then you were in your panties, shirtless due to the absence of a bra under your shirt. Andrew finally looked in your direction then, eyes widening slightly at your nudity before beginning to chuck off his shoes.

"You sure he's got no cameras? Big place."

"Doesn't matter. Clothes off, Andrew." you were already in the pool, swimming your way to the edge at which he was standing. You smiled up at him, already relaxed by the chill the water provided.

Despite his hesitation, he threw off his clothes, leaving the boxers on as he lowered himself into the pool. His body language was closed off again, but you continued smiling up at him, biting your lip at the exposed skin.

Once he was finally engulfed by the pool, you crowded him, arms leaning on the granite pool wall behind him, legs floating in the water and face leaning into his own. You offered him a teasing smile, nose running against his own and leaning back teasingly when he tried to lean in and kiss you.

"Wanna kiss me?"

His arms reached your legs under the water and wrapped them around his waist. He flipped your positions, with your back now pressed up against the wall as he cornered you. The water reached your shoulders, occasionally reaching chin-level, but you couldn't seem to mind it when he nodded, eyes lowered to your lips.

"Yes."

He kissed you then, sighing into your mouth and moaning when your hands went from his shoulders to his hair, fingers curling into the strands and sneaking your tongue into his mouth.

Wet skin pressed together, you rubbed your chest against his hardened pecs, sighing his name at the way his muscles felt against your nipples. Your legs wrapped tighter around him, pelvis pushing and pulling into his own, shameless in the sounds you released into his lips.

It'd been so long since you'd had him. So long since he'd looked at you like he did now, unable to pull away long enough before he felt the itch to kiss you again and again. Things had been too convoluted, too fucked for you to even think about him like this. The spark remained there, but your need for him took a backseat for the past month or so.

And now you were here, in your ex's house that you'd broken into as your body begged for Andrew to touch you more, to go further than this, to go as far as his body would take him.

"Fuck." you cried into his lips once he began rocking back against you, using the wall to hold up most of your weight as his hardness fucked into your panties.

His movements were controlled. The huffs of pleasure leaving his mouth told you that he was holding back, that fucking you through his wet boxers was some sort of punishment, but you didn't care about such trivial things right now. Your cunt was aching, closing in on nothing and pleading at you to get something it could wrap itself around.

Whimpers left your lips, all landing against his skin as you bit and suckled at his neck, having dropped out of the kiss when you lost your breath.

"Andrew, please."

He knew what you wanted. He always did. If he hadn't given it to you yet, it was for a reason.

"No." he huffed.

Suddenly you found yourself standing at your full height, flipped over so your chest would press against the wall of the pool, arms sandwiched between you and the wall while Andrew pressed himself up against your back. One of his hands gripped your hip while the other rounded your body, finding your lower stomach and tracing the skin there.

"This okay?" he whispered into your ear, nose inhaling the dampened scent of your hair, sighing afterwards.

"Yes. Please."

Your eyes rolled back when his hand snuck its way under your wet panties. They stuck to your skin, completely soaked due to the pool water, but it didn't take his fingers long to reach your own wetness. You heard him suck in a breath then, hips pushing up against your ass a few times before he regained control of himself.

"P-please, Andrew ... I need it. I've been waiting so long." you panted.

You hadn't meant to say that, but it was true. You'd been aching for him, for his closeness. He'd had you worried since Smurf's death, had you in constant fear something would happen to him, that he'd go off the rails and you'd lose him if you weren't careful.

But it all now manifested in this moment and its closeness. Feeling his touch on you had you desperate, unashamed of begging him, uncaring of what type of touch he gave you as long as he had his hands on you.

"I know."

His middle and index fingers dipped in deeper, finding your clit and rubbing at it softly in an almost absent touch. Your whines did not deter him from teasing you, but you were sure that if you were to ask, he'd tell you he was simply building you up.

When you moaned and sighed his name, he pressed up even closer against you, groaning at how you'd grind your ass against him, back arching and your hand taking one of his to play with your tit. You were a depraved mess, mouth agape as you cried his name.

"Don't- don't stop." you cried. Your hand gripped his wrist, scared he'd pull away and keeping him there. He could've easily removed it, but he let you keep it there.

"Like that?" he mumbled once his fingers plunged in you, curling a little harder each time you cried a babbled version of his name.

You nodded desperately, arching further into him, head dropping back and leaning on his shoulder. Your head turned, nose nudging his jaw as your eyes looked for his lips. But his eyes were already on yours, head already tilting towards your own and lips seeking yours.

Your mouth was open when it received his, sounds endlessly escaping you as you tried to lick into his mouth.

"Fuck me." you moaned into his lips. "Please ... Andrew, please."

He groaned then, finally making some noise for you. His hips stuttered, pressing into yours and making him release yet another groan as you sucked on his tongue.

"Can't." he breathed out. "Don't deserve it."

Again, you cried, hand leaving his wrist to find the back of his head behind you, keeping him pressed to you, lips barely disconnected, breaths interlocked. You shook your head, kissing him chastely a few times before speaking.

"That's not true." you huffed.

This made his hips thud against yours again, but it just wasn't enough for you. You wanted him buried deep, wanted him to use your body for his own pleasure, to stop prioritizing yours and neglecting his as some sort of self-punishment. You couldn't understand how he was still unaware that his pleasure was your own, that rewarding himself with your body was the one and only thing that ever made you feel good since the moment you first laid eyes on him.

Pulling him away from you, you turned around, still caged by his arms, but now facing him. Your hands found their familiar place cupping his cheeks, pulling him down for another kiss before your hands wandered south, digging under his boxers and pulling him out.

"I- I don't. You don't have to."

"I need you." you begged, careless.

By the time you lined him up, your head was already thrown back on the surface of the pool, mouth open and a cry of his name escaping it.

"Nnhgn ... Fuck, Andrew. You feel so .... God, fuck."

You didn't know what to do with yourself. He'd barely sheathed himself in and you were already writhing against him, already leaving red lines across his skin, already sighing and gasping and making a mess of yourself. He remained stagnant for a few moments, but you were too blissed out to notice the pained look of pleasure on his face, cunt too busy squeezing around him to see that he was also losing his mind.

"I missed you." he grunted, hips beginning to move.

His eyes were shut, his mouth open with huffs of air leaving it with every thrust. Your hips matched his movements, humping against him as if you were in heat, roughly hammering your skin with his own. The water hit the surface of the pool every so often due to the commotion, but the state of your ex's patio was the least of your worries.

"I missed you so much, Andrew."

"I'm sorry." he panted, head buried in your neck, lips kissing their way to your wet chest, licking the drops of water that led him to your breasts and finding a home for his tongue there.

Panting in unison, you dug your nails into his shoulder. "Just stay with me."

The reason for the apology stayed unspoken. There was no need to talk about it when you both understood.

You didn't care how many times you found yourself on the receiving end of an apology as long as it meant you had your Andrew. That he was safe and alive and that you could feel his skin under your touch.

"I'll stay for as long as you want me." he panted.

You sighed, "Forev- fuck, forever. Please."

Andrew released all his pent up emotions as he fucked you, his voice growing louder by the second, being rewarded by the intermittent squeezing of your cunt.

Water splashed all over, coating the external surface of the pool as his thrusts grew more desperate.

Your every cry made him go harder, deeper, made the lust take over as he fucked into you with no mercy. He told you he missed you through every touch, silently begging to be buried in you until someone had to pull him away.

"I'm- I'm almost- fuck, I'm-"

"I know." he grunted. "Let me fill you up. Okay?"

His words were growled, an even lower register than his usual, the deep throaty feel of it going straight to your cunt.

Knowing how much he lost himself in you made you lightheaded. You'd almost forgotten how good it felt to be wanted by him, to squeeze around him and earn a heavy breath of your name in return, a bite to your shoulder.

And he bit your shoulder again as he filled you up, hums of pleasure muffled by your skin as his release stained your insides.

By the time you orgasmed, his lips trailed back to yours, sucking, kissing, biting at them and swallowing every single whiny moan of his name. Your voice was hoarse by the time he was done with you.

Your shared heavy breaths filled the silence afterwards, but they didn't last long, with a wet exchange of kisses being had by your lips as soon as you'd regained enough oxygen in your lungs.

"I'm sorry." he whispered again. "Please ... I love you."

I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I love you.

It made no sense to you.

To ever think about leaving him. To exist in a reality in which Andrew wasn't yours. You couldn't fathom it.

You kissed him once, deep, heavy, transmitting every emotion in your body.

"I love you. More than anything."

It'd been said so breathlessly, so trapped between kisses that it could've easily been missed.

But you knew he heard it. Knew it off the groan he released against your lips, the way his hands gripped at your body, almost as if molding into it.

He carried you out of the pool then, taking your muffled directions towards the master bedroom and making love to you on the bed, taking his time and licking at every inch of your body that'd been aching to be touched by him.

And later that night, fucked you one last time on what used to be yours and your ex's shared bed.

Had it been any other guy, the act would've been petty. But Andrew was clean to a fault. By the time you'd gotten dressed, the bed was as pristine as you'd found it. A coin could've easily bounced off it.

Still, it was nice to wipe those old memories with this new one.

"I'm sorry your cat wasn't here." he mumbled as he led you out, hand on the low of your back as he walked you to the car.

"I appreciate you trying." you smiled at him. "She's probably with his sister in San Marco. She always liked her more than he did."

You didn't know that what you'd said offhandedly had ingrained in his brain. Again, you hadn't known then that Andrew would go out of his way for you, not needing a single word from you.

"What was her name?"

"Miffy. She was white, fluffy; a ragdoll."

He hummed, but didn't say anything else.

"We can get one of our own someday." you suggested. "Start our own little family."

He squeezed your hand, pressing a kiss to your hair, opening the car door for you.

"Anything you want."

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew wasn't sure how you'd react to this.

You hadn't questioned him when he suggested staying at some motel you'd passed by on your way back to Oceanside. You'd reacted much the same way you always did when he suggested something — supportive, hand squeezing his own and lips finding his cheek.

It pained him how much you accommodated to him, happy at any situation if it meant just being together.

Cats weren't exactly his favorite. They were barely domesticated, just a generation away from being feral. But all things considered, so was he. And you liked him. You really liked him.

Getting your cat back was the least he could do. Even if it started with a lie (or an omission of truth), — leaving you asleep in that motel room bed while he snuck out in the middle of the night — Andrew felt justified.

After all, it was just a quick round trip. He'd just make a stop back at your ex's, maybe cause a few bruises if necessary, and then retrieve your cat from — where did you say his sister lived, San Marco?

And getting your ex to talk really required no much effort. Within a few seconds of Andrew dragging him off the bed he'd fucked you to sleep in a few days ago, the idiot was already begging Andrew not to hurt him, telling him to take whatever he wanted but to just leave him unscathed. Wasn't very sure how to react when he'd demanded the location of your old cat, blabbering like an idiot at his questions.

"Miffy. Fluffy, white, ragdoll — where is she?" he huffed, fists gripping at his shirt as he pushed him up against a wall.

That led him to some house in the outskirts of San Marco. It was only a little under an hour away from your motel.

Three am — he'd get back to you at around six. Apt time for him to get back to you before you woke up.

He'd promised to take the cat, leave his sister and her family alone, not even wake them up as he took her away. But only as long as he didn't blab, didn't go to the police over this — which, of course, Andrew couldn't actually guarantee, but he'd gone in far blinder on worse situations. This wasn't as much of a risk.

In the end it'd been an easy task. Easier than many undeserving jobs he'd done with his brothers for much less reward.

And the reward was grand this time around, at least as far as it concerned him.

He'd managed to break into the house with practiced stealth, eyes locating the cat as she laid in a small bed in the downstairs living room.

As in most household arrangements, everyone else was upstairs and fast asleep. It was a quick in-and-out operation that left no one harmed (other than your ex, who he couldn't help but land a few punches at).

The cat, likely a good four or five years old based on the timeline you'd given him, was surprisingly calm as Andrew drove her back to the motel. Small, white, fluffy; ragdoll — just as you'd described.

By the time he made it back to the motel, it was barely 5:37 in the morning, and you were still fast asleep, blankets thrown off due to the heat and your body clad in only your panties and one of his shirts. You laid face down, body curled slightly towards his side of the bed.

He loved the sight and he hated having to wake you, but also knew that the cat's meowing would've done the job on its own sooner or later.

But still, he allowed himself to watch you sleep for a short while, lulling the cat into yet another nap as he held it in his arms.

It was the most calm he'd felt in a while, watching you sleep. You were completely knocked out, tired from all the constant running around you'd been doing with Andrew. It made him hate himself, knowing how much he'd put you through in the short two years you'd known him.

No matter how many times you tried to beat the idea into his head, he couldn't reason why you still stuck around. At times he hoped that his erratic behavior would drive you away, but he knew deep within himself that despite his constant need to self-sabotage, he'd probably find himself with a gun to his head if you ever were taken away from his life.

There was no life without you anymore. Andrew would constantly fight with himself about this, knowing how selfish he was in stealing you away from what could otherwise be a promising life, but every time he asked you to leave, every time he gave you an out, there was a big part inside him that pleaded you wouldn't accept his offer, that you'd continue to stay.

And you always did. Never with a single complaint, not once blaming him for his struggles, for how much he had to fight himself and others in the miserable hellscape that his life could be.

But even then, you'd grown accustomed to it all.

You'd been accepting of the family business, had taken a motherly role in Lena's life while she was around, loved him despite the distance Smurf created between you, forgiven him after everything that happened with Angela. And even to this day, you'd tagged along as he ran off like a coward, forcing yourself upon him knowing that this trip would've ended by his own hand if he'd been out on his own.

He thought of it all as he watched you sleep, not realizing when he'd gotten up and laid the cat at the foot of the bed, making his way into the bed and taking you in his arms. It didn't take long for your breathing to synchronize, for his heart to beat against your back and for you to nuzzle against him in your sleep.

This was the one place where he didn't have to worry about anything else.

The state, Smurf's death, his meds, they were all pushed aside as he closed his eyes and joined you in your slumber.

-

"Jesus Christ, what the- Andrew?"

Your words weren't loud, but they'd still managed to wake him up.

"What's wrong?"

"Is this- Andrew, did you- is this my cat?"

Andrew sat up, realizing that you were no longer laid down in his arms but rather sitting up, leaning down to the side of the bed as you lifted up the small creature into your arms.

Despite your words, you did not appear angry, just genuinely shocked at the sudden reappearance of an old pet you were probably never expecting to see again.

"Yeah." he mumbled. "Went back last night while you were asleep. Sorry."

By then you were cradling your pet like a baby, toying with it with your finger as it attempted to catch it. It was a pretty docile cat. Much unlike Tank, who didn't take much of a liking to anyone.

"You went back? Shit, did you talk to him?"

"Don't worry, he doesn't know who I am. Probably figured out by now I'm connected to you somehow, but you shouldn't worry about it."

"Wow, that's-" you paused, looking for the words. "This is probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." you laughed in disbelief.

Andrew huddled closer to you, body hovering over your side as you continued cooing at your cat. Not necessarily a pet kind of guy, he still smiled at the sight, happy he was able to get you happy. It was always his goal, he'd just been pretty bad at it lately.

He could hear your voice inside his head responding to that, telling him you'd never blame him for his behavior while he grieved, while he navigated life after Smurf. But the reality was that he still blamed himself. It was just a silver lining for him that you didn't share that sentiment.

"I'd do anything for you."

A pair of lips pecked his before he realized, a muted giggle vibrating against him.

"You ready to head back home?"

"Whenever you are."

"We're only two hours South of Oceanside. I can drive the rest of the way if you want." you offered. "You probably didn't get enough sleep getting this little thing back for me."

He shook his head. "Sleep. I've been keeping you tired."

You didn't argue against it, kissing him again before getting up.

The two of you only made a couple of stops before heading towards Oceanside, one to eat and one to pick up some stuff for your cat on the way back home.

By the end of it all, Andrew felt a little less disoriented.

Returning home with you helped him reroute himself. You could start brand new now, forming a small family, re-doing a lot of the shit that Smurf had destroyed throughout the length of his life.

Everything felt clearer as he drove you back home, hand on your lap as you talked to him about work, as you made plans with him, as you giggled at what you called your 'new baby together.'

He didn't really find it in himself to care much about what was going on at home for the time being. Things would always remain shit when it came to the Cody's. It was his lifelong duty to put up with it, to aid and protect to the best of his ability. But he was okay with it if it meant you were one of the many things he'd have to protect.

For once, Andrew felt a glimmer of hope in his future.

➽──────────────────❥

Not much happened in your absence.

Deran's bar now had new competition, Craig continued to explore parenthood, and J had found a new way to launder everyone's money.

It seemed Andrew arrived at the perfect time. Things were hitting a crescendo among the rest of the Cody men, with J on the verge of leaving when you'd arrived, having to be talked down by Andrew. A fight had ensued between the three men, one which you and Andrew caught the aftermath of. Bruised faces and dislocated bones were had by all Cody men. Andrew had been the only one to miss out on it.

Andrew's mood changed drastically after going away with you, which the guys noticed upon your arrival.

He was touchier, less off-putting, and had quickly become a pillar in the sea of uncertainty the family was currently going through. Craig and Deran gave you the credit for it, while J remained a little suspicious of it all, but you pointed to Andrew, knowing his new outlook on life had been his doing alone.

Not many questions were had about your new pet, just a warning from Craig to not let it get into the pool.

The biggest change upon your return was Andrew's acceptance for help. He still was weary about shrinks, but had agreed to go back to the hospital, to speak to the doctor who had tended to him when he'd been wandering around and to accept medication that would keep him in check. This alone made a difference in him.

The two of you continued to mostly stay at the Cody residence. It kept Andrew grounded. Having the familiar surroundings was helpful to him, at least for the time being. He'd been adamant in re-doing your shared room, in ridding the place of Smurf's shit, which you not only supported but cheered on.

A few days later you'd found out that the guys had been in contact with some crooked police officer, officer Chadwick. It gave you a bad feeling, Andrew too. But you didn't have enough leverage in the family for your opinion to matter that much, so you kept to yourself.

Andrew shared your worries, but still agreed to look over any information the guy could get them that the Oceanside police department currently had on the Cody's. It was best to be prepared, specially with Smurf's protection gone. And so the guy entered the Cody's monthly payroll.

Things were a little out of control, but that was just a commonality in the life of anyone involved with the Cody's.

Deran was going through some shit too.

He'd been getting tailed by Agent Livengood, the same man who'd been trailing Adrian, and ultimately one of the biggest reasons for Adrian's sudden escape to Thailand a few months back.

Keeping Adrian out of jail while keeping him safe from Smurf had proved to be an impossible mission. And while Deran's plan had originally been to go away with him, he'd dropped out last minute, too guilty to leave his family behind.

After all, he'd lied to his family, had told them Adrian wasn't talking to the cops, that his only charges had been on the smuggling of drugs. Which had been true at first, but then Livengood had gotten involved, pushing Adrian for information on the Cody's, leading to his escape and to his subsequent breakup with Deran.

This had gotten the Cody's names circled in red on Livengood's agenda. It'd made Livengood begin trailing them, working overtime to catch them at fault and get any necessary info on them to take them down.

Deran carried this guilt with him, apologetic to his brothers, even to you.

"I'm sorry you guys had to come back to all this shit." he'd come up to you a few nights later.

Andrew had been re-doing the connected restroom at that moment, angrily hacking at anything Smurf had put in there and trying to make the place more of your own. The bedroom was already completely re-done, which was where you currently resided, sitting up on the bed with your cat on your lap as Deran stood by the door, awkwardly apologizing for something you weren't angry at (and neither was Andrew).

"What do you mean?"

"The DEA. Livengood. It's my fault."

You shook your head. "What?"

"I should have done what needed to be done with Adrian." he looked down, sighed. "I know that."

He meant killing him. Should've done it the Smurf way.

The same way in which she'd gotten rid of Cath, for the same reason. The job that she'd forced on Andrew, disoriented, out of his meds and recently released from a prison sentence he didn't deserve any more than Baz did. It had been the same reason as to why Andrew was so haunted by his past, why he couldn't lay in bed alone at night and close his eyes without being tormented by what'd he'd done. His biggest regret.

You could never wish the same on Deran, and you knew Andrew felt the same.

"That's bullshit." you scoffed. "Come on. That's not you. That's Smurf talking, Deran, you know that."

You stood up, took the few steps necessary to reach him by the door. The closed-off demeanor your friend displayed made you frown, but you understood. You understood the guilt, however unreasonable it was.

"Hey." you called his attention when he tried looking away. "None of this is your fault, and no one blames you for it, okay?"

Unable to alleviate himself from all guilt, he simply nodded, lips in a tight line and eyes still not fully on yours.

"I, uh, gotta go to the bar, but, you know, if you want to come by later for a drink or something ..."

"I'll stay in and help Andrew clean up the stuff in the bathroom. Tomorrow?"

He nodded again, leaning down a bit to give you a side-hug, probably the most affection he was willing to take at that moment.

When you waved him goodbye, you closed the door to your bedroom, walking back to your cat on the bed.

"You're really good with him, you know?"

Andrew was standing by the door that connected to the restroom when you looked back, a somber yet pleased look in his eye. He was in the process of removing his construction gloves, ready to clean up before he got into bed with you.

"You think so?"

He nodded. "He's really closed off, you know? Doesn't share much with us. Always trying to run away from us. But you keep him grounded." he continued. "You're good for him. You're a good friend."

With a smile, you walked to him, throwing his gloves aside and grabbing his hands so they'd wrap around your waist.

"You're sweet." you smiled. "I owe him a lot, y'know? He did introduce me to my boyfriend and all."

You kissed his jaw then. Just a singular kiss. Slow, long.

"Yeah. Not as much as I owe him."

Later that night, Andrew woke you up, weirdly light in his mood. The brooding heaviness he tended to carry was completely gone, and instead you found what you were happy to deem a boyish smile.

"C'mon, I wanna take you somewhere."

And then you found yourself at a skate park nearby, completely empty at 3 in the morning, the ramp wide and big for Andrew to skate until he grew tired of it.

He offered to show you how to skate, but you loved watching him carefree, smiling and proud of how good he was at it, chuckling when you'd cheer for him, equally as carefree.

You repeated this a few more times that week, not caring if it chopped your sleeping hours down in half, or if you needed three cups of coffee in order to stay up at work the next day. This was your version of domestic.

➽──────────────────❥

That drink with Deran never came.

A few days later, his bar was raided, his inventory confiscated by the board. And while he thought it must've been some shit with that new bar across the street, Sun of a Beach, it was actually much simpler than that. Livengood had crawled his way into yet another area of the Cody's lives.

While you tried to calm down an altered Deran, Andrew dealt with his own issues.

He'd gone to Pete's gang in hopes of selling his truck, but the Trujillo crew had decided they'd no longer be dealing with the Cody's.

It had happened as a result of their last job together, when the Cody's had raided an abandoned helicopter full of coke, stocking it with the Trujillos while they found a buyer. Unfortunately, they'd taken too long to find a buyer, which led to the Trujillo business being assailed by the county, ridding them of not only the tons of powder but getting themselves in the local police's radar.

Pete's gang was one of the most powerful around, dating back to the days in which Smurf had barely been getting her name out on the streets of Oceanside. The Cody's had grown up dealing with them, working alongside each other, exchanging favors. The death of such a partnership left them at a loss.

Craig was nowhere to be found at the next family meeting, searching all over Oceanside for Renn, who had run off with their son. Andrew was pretty sure Craig must've done something to cause this, while Deran appeared offended by the insinuation. J didn't care, and you were indifferent as long as the baby was fine.

The next time you were all together, it was at Deran's bar, having agreed upon a meeting with Chadwick. Something about information he had that could help the Cody's.

It'd been a trick.

He'd walked in with Livenwood trailing behind him, a smirk on his face at finding all the Cody's gathered in one place, trapped and forced to deal with the consequences of Livenwood's years-long investigation. He threatened the Cody's, saying he had a list of evidence that went for miles against them, but that he'd let it all go if they ratted out Adrian.

You knew Deran would never let that happen, willing to lay down his life instead in the same way you would've for him or for Andrew.

But it turned out you didn't have to worry about that for long.

It'd all been a trick.

But not on you.

On Livenwood.

Chadwick shot him dead. Standing there in Deran's bar.

You didn't participate in any of the aftermath. Andrew removed you from the situation immediately, taking in the shocked look on your face and regretting having brought you along to Deran's bar in the first place.

Sure, you were in this, you were part of the family, a crucial piece to the lives of two of the Cody men, but you were also a regular girl. You hadn't grown in the way Andrew had, no one else really had. He couldn't put these images in your head, traumatize you the way he'd been as a child.

When you told him you were okay, that you could deal with it all, he shook his head, dropping you off at home and tucking you in bed before he went back to the guys in order to get rid of the body.

He'd keep you safe from all this shit as much as he could, wouldn't put you at risk ever again. Would never place you in a room where a man he didn't trust could pull out a gun no matter what.

-

Andrew continued to keep you uninvolved as much as he could.

While he usually would've preferred your participation rather than Frankie's, he knew this job was too dangerous, too much of a risk for him to take when it came to you. Still willing to share with you any details you needed to know for peace of mind, he kept his reservations, never telling you anything that could implicate you should things go awry and you ended up with the police at your door as they looked for Andrew and his brothers.

There were just risks he wasn't willing to take anymore. Not with you.

Things continued to be great between you, but he still felt guilt any time he left the house and you'd hug him a little too hard, kiss him a little too long, all in fear that he'd come back hurt, or just not come back at all.

When he'd gone with J to bury Livengood's body, he didn't tell you anything you didn't need to know. It wasn't until the discovery of his body made the news that you really found out what'd happened.

When he'd gone back to Pete's threatening one of his guys so he'd give him his car, take his old truck out of his hands, he didn't tell you about the coke he'd found in the trunk — the same coke that they'd given Pete. The same coke Pete said had been raided from his car shop.

Andrew shared this information with his brothers, planning some sort of revenge, but kept you out of the loop. He didn't want you knowing things that could put you in danger.

And when he'd gone back to Pete's a few days later with J, he didn't tell you about how he cornered Pete, about how he'd screamed in his face, called him a liar, how he held him down and pulled his eye out of its socket with a pair of pliers while J watched, demanding the money he'd stolen from the coke back or he'd come back and do it again.

He came back home with J a few hours later, situation resolved and feeling his tensions lowered, but his arms were still dripping with Pete's blood.

And though he hoped to keep it from you altogether, he couldn't deny you when you ran to him worried, inspecting his hands as you dragged him over to the sink to clean them up.

The rest of the guys were there, passing out takeout for dinner, stopping on their tracks when they took note of the blood dripping down his arms.

"Where you guys been?"

They ignored the elephant in the room. This was more common to them than it was for you, even after years of your proximity to Andrew.

"I talked to Pete."

"I thought we were all gonna do that."

"He took Pete's eye out." J interrupted, eyes downcast, completely drained by what he'd just witnessed.

Andrew cursed under his breath at J, shooting him a look when he heard you gasp.

"Andrew, you what?" but you kept rinsing his arms, not flinching, not creating distance between you even as you heard of what he did.

"Jesus." Craig rasped.

Andrew looked away from you, ashamed as his eyes looked away from you. "I just reminded Pete not to break the rules."

"Some of the blood splattered to your hair, Andrew, fuck. Come on, let's go wash it off. You guys have dinner without us." you pulled him away as you spoke, not needing to look back, as you knew he'd be following behind.

Moments later, you were situated in the bathroom that connected to the master bedroom. What used to be Smurf's but now was shared between you and Andrew. You sat on the marble finish Andrew had installed on the counter over the past week while he stood between your legs at the perfect height for you to clean at those few splashes of blood that had landed on his hair.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked, looking down.

Your hand came up to his chin, making him look up. "I'm not."

Using the small detachable faucet, you sprayed just a bit on his hair. Enough so that the blood would mostly wear off. He understood why you didn't want him bloody. And it was too late into the night for a shower.

"You know you don't have to hide anything from me, right?" you asked as you put down the detachable faucet head, grabbing a small towel and handing it to him so he could dap at the remnants of water at the curls on his head.

You hopped off the counter then, leaning your hip against it as you watched him dap at his hair.

"I'm not- I'm not trying to hide anything. I just ... I want to keep you safe."

"But you always do. I'm always safe when you're around."

His heart cracked at that. Not in a bad way, but rather in a way that worried him.

You were looking at him with these eyes ... Eyes filled with love and worry and gratefulness that Andrew just couldn't wrap his head around. You looked to him with affection at every step he took, never once retracting it if he ever toed past certain line.

Because you loved him, and you worried about him, and you were grateful he was part of your life. He'd cut off every limb for even an inch of affection from you, and you gave it to him willingly, thankful he'd give his in return as if he wouldn't die before his heart was taken away from its secure hold in your hands.

Andrew was seldom overwhelmed with any positive emotion, but as he stood there, he couldn't help but want to burst at the seams.

"I'll do anything to keep you safe."

"I know." you smiled up at him, eyes lazy, morphing into that look he wasn't sure when he'd grown so familiar with.

You grabbed the towel from his hands, placing it on the counter next to you, attention solely on him.

"Because you love me."

"More than anything." he whispered, eyes trailing to your lips.

"And you'd do anything to protect me." you continued. "Like today. You did that for me. For your family."

"You're my family." he rasped.

"Yeah? Any question you wanna ask me, Andrew?" you teased, voice low, hands draping over his chest.

His body was practically curling into yours by now, distance nonexistent as your every word drew him closer.

He let out a breath at your words. His hands balled into fists, one resting on the counter and one itching towards your hip. Unsure of how to respond, he opened and closed his mouth a few times, frowning. Knowing exactly what you meant, he thought back to every moment in which he'd thought about that question. He always beat himself up over it, knowing it was too soon, that it was too dangerous a question, that if he pushed too hard, you might just run off.

"Is that- is that what you want?"

You nodded. Light, comfortable. As if it was the easiest, most obvious answer.

"You want to ..."

"You don't have to ask me today." you assured, leaning up for a peck. "But I'll be waiting. You know my answer."

Andrew released a breath in disbelief, chest expanding as his breath got heavier. His body couldn't help itself in being drawn to you then, closing any remaining distance and kissing you, raw, hard, needy. Something shifted, making him act on his greed for you.

No more words needed to be exchanged. Andrew let himself go, body responding to yours and begging to be claimed by you, begging to claim you in return.

With minimal effort, Andrew picked you up, carrying you over to the bed and setting you down softly as he crawled on top. Clothes were removed in a haste, fumbly and all over the place due to your insistence to keep your lips attached.

Andrew's breath still stuttered every time you bared yourself before him. Already familiar with every inch, having left his mark in every spot that made you cry that special sound that had him grinding into the mattress, he still stopping for a moment to let his eyes get their fill.

You did the same, tracing every scar, knowing the story behind them, having kissed at every one.

When he finally entered you, he groaned into your mouth, lips agape as your body instinctively tried to escape the pleasure. The pressure of his hips inside you had your nails dragging down his back, providing him with scars he was proud to bear.

Andrew kissed you as if it was the last time, sighing into every kiss and dragging his hips against yours as if it burned if he allowed himself a single moment away from you. He was thirsty, hungry, starving for you. But he was also terrified.

He wasn't sure where this sudden fear came from. Perhaps how good things had gotten between you. How long you'd lasted by his side, accepting his one and every form, making him better by just being in love with him in return.

But a deep part of him was always afraid. Terrified that the next time he put you in danger would be the last, that one more mishap with his meds and he'd wake up to an empty bed.

His body itched with the need to beg and cry and sob that you stay by his side, that you love him the way he loved you.

It was all heightened by the feeling of your body under his, so open and ready to take him. So willing for him, begging for his touch as if he wouldn't fight any and every obstacle to get to you. Every cry of his name made him lose himself a little more, had him praying to a god he had lost contact with a long time ago to please let him keep you forever.

"I lo-love you." he panted, voice broken. "I can't live without you, please .... please don't make me."

You cried his name, laid under him and received every thrust from his hips. Something in him broke, but you took it all head on, legs open and wrapped around him, letting him into the intimacy of your body as he cried his most vulnerable fear into the quiet of the room.

Reassurances were whispered into his ear, love-filled caresses at various points of his body. And Andrew took each and every one. Greedy for the first time in his life, only ever practicing this greed when it came to you.

"I'm here, Andrew. I'm always here." your voice was barely there, syllables interrupted by moans or gasps of air.

Your purrs against his ear made him dizzy, made his brain grow fuzzy and his body lose control. Every movement was led by instinct. His body cried for yours, and yours took his every plea head-on, welcoming his every thrust, his every scratch and his every bite as he let himself go in you.

Andrew had long grown overwhelmed with his feelings for you.

It'd been a rapid thing, the way in which he'd fallen for you. His obsession grew quickly, but he soon learned that it wasn't a mere obsession. Not like what he had with Cath. That was a mere infatuation, a need to chase after the only person who was ever nice to him. With you it was more. Not only carnally, but ingrained deep within.

It'd gone past a point of want. No, he needed you to survive now. He'd grown greedy, too used to that look in your eyes that he needed to do everything to preserve.

He was loud this time around, his every cry and whimper landing straight in your ear, only occasionally trapped by your mouth when you'd drag him onto yours, tonguing at him with need that made his hips stutter.

"Tell me." he cried. "Tell me you- you love me."

And you cried it out for him, pulling him close and kissing him soft. You brought him as close as you possibly could, hip bones slamming against each other, legs squeezing at his waist, holding him hostage. A trap he was starved to fall into.

"F-fuck, Andrew ... Don't- don't stop. You feel so good, oh fuck. I love you! I lo- love you, fuck."

His brain was filled with static, teeth bared and body flexed with the pent up high he'd been chasing from the moment he kissed you.

When you came, he truly lost his mind.

He'd had you many times, too many for him to count. His body was well-acquainted with yours, in ways he still couldn't understand. Yet as you squeezed around him, milking him of every drop as he spilled into you, he couldn't help but cry out those two words. The same words that had tortured him with the risk of coming out and ruining everything.

Mid orgasm, they came out, strangled, raspy, voice worn out due to every single groan of your name.

"Marry me."

It wasn't a question. He couldn't risk phrasing it as a question. He needed it to be a reality, to have it engraved and true and never questioned.

You squeezed him tighter, sighing his name and pulling him in for yet another kiss.

"Please." you sighed. "Yes, I'll- Yes, Andrew."

He fucked you past midnight that night. Had you in every way imaginable, disregarding his brothers loitering around the house as he twisted you in every position his body desired. You begged him to, told him to be greedy, to take that was his. As if you didn't know how long he'd prayed for his, for someone to take him in, accept him, love him with no consequence.

For the first time in his life, Andrew grew satiated. He filled his every need with you, shedding tears, filling you up time and time again while you never grew tired, always begging for more.

When you fell asleep in his arms late into the night, he held you, watched you sleep. He matched his breathing to yours, comforted by your skin on his.

Slumber found him a while later. Calm, deep slumber, one he'd realized he never had until you came into his life.

He kissed your skin one last time, already planning every single promise he'd fulfill tomorrow in return for what you'd given him tonight.

➽──────────────────❥

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note: the cat stuff seems so silly all things considered but to be fair andrew did literally break into someone's house and steal their kid so he could take him back to his mom in s5 so this was the best way to work around it without giving reader a kid 😭😭 s5 was a whole acid trip im sorry if its super convoluted.

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