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starsandhughes · 8 months

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Didn't Know What Love Was— Quinn Hughes

summary: you were somewhat of a cynic when it came to love. you didn't believe in it, and if it was real, you didn't want it. that is, until your best friend sets you up with a certain hockey player named quinn.

warnings: swearing, fade to black smut (like extremely fade to black), fluff

word count: 3.9k+

MASTERLIST

this is inspired by the song 'didn't know what love was' by kane brown!

You weren’t expecting to feel this way.

You didn’t think this feeling was real.

Love.

You’ve said it, you’ve been told it, but all of those instances weren’t real to you. You get to a certain point in a relationship and someone says it first and you think, yeah, I guess that’s what this is. It was nothing like how it was portrayed in the movies, because they were just movies. Movies are fake, so you thought love was, too. It always ended. It always included drama. And then you’d find someone new.

You’ve never been more wrong.

February 20, 2021

“Mack, have you ever thought of the fact that I’m just not meant for a relationship? It’s all bullshit anyways,” you grumbled. You were laying on your back horizontally on bed with your feet hanging off the edge, settled on the floor. Your best friend, Mackenzie, was once again setting you up on a date. “You’re single now! Find yourself a date!”

Mackenzie rolled her eyes and sat next to you, “I’m not ready to get back out there! It’s only been two weeks since Jason and I broke up and we dated for seven months. You, however, have been single for almost a year!”

“You’re only proving my point, Mack!” you said, sitting up. “Relationships end. They’re messy and leave us heartbroken. And maybe the magic blinds you for a while and you get married, but I’ve met more people with divorced parents than married ones. And I’ve seen so many loveless marriages that the couple only sticks together because they wouldn’t know what else to do. I’ve seen couples break up in restaurants. I’ve seen couples fight and scream at a public park. Love isn’t real. And if it is, I can live without it.”

Mackenzie looked at you with the most pity filled expression you’ve ever seen. She believes in love. She believes in the shitty romance novels and shitty movies. But you’ve picked up her pieces too many times to even contemplate believing in it.

“Love is real!” she exclaimed. “How else could people have written sonnets and movies and books and songs about it?”

“People write stuff about monsters, too, but you don’t see any people bursting into flames in the sunlight,” you said.

“In Twilight they sparkled!”

“I don’t give a shit what they did, they’re still made up,” you laughed. “It’s called fiction for a reason.”

“You can’t make up a feeling. You can’t make up being so enamored by someone that you miss them so bad it hurts when they’re not with you!”

“You’re just repeating things you’ve heard in movies about love!” you argued. “You haven’t even been in love. Not truly. You told me so when you broke up with Jason.”

“So go on this date, and if it all works out, you can tell me what love is. They even call oxytocin the love chemical! You believe in science! And I believe that this guy is the perfect match for you,” your best friend continued to beg. “Think of it as a science experiment.”

You ended up caving, more so to get Mackenzie to stop begging. It’s not like you were against dating, you’ve had plenty of relationships, but after so many failed ones you stop seeing the point. You could get your needs met without being tied down and risking becoming attached. That’s all that “love” really was. Attachment. Sure, it’s nice to have one person that’s somewhat of a best friend to spend your life with. But adding all of that “girlfriend and boyfriend” stuff to it is destined for failure. And you were done with it.

When you found him at the restaurant, you were taken back. You’d seen pictures of him so that you’d know who to look for, but he looked so much better in person. His hair looked unbelievably soft, and he somehow made the locks seemingly out of place look perfect. His soft eyes were to die for, and the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up made the veins in his arm visible. All you wanted to do was trace them.

“Y/N?” the boy asked when he noticed you staring. He stood up to greet you, helping you slip off your jacket to hang on the back of the chair as he pulled it out for you. He waited for you to sit down before taking a seat himself. “I’m Quinn.”

“So I’ve heard,” you chuckled. “I’ve been told that you’re the sweetest guy Mackenzie knows and are bound to change my mind about my stance on relationships.”

“I’ve heard you don’t believe in love,” Quinn countered.

Your eyes widened, and if you were taking a drink, you would’ve choked on it.

“Wow,” you said amused. “Mack jumped to the nitty gritty then? I take it this means that you do believe in love?”

“I do,” Quinn confirmed.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Not yet. But I’ve seen it. My parents have the purest love I’ve ever seen. They spread it to everyone they know and everyone my brothers and I know. They make it hard to not believe in it.”

You couldn’t help but feel soft at his statement. You’ve never heard anyone tell you that they believe in love because of their parents. Hell, you haven’t really had a guy firmly tell you that he believes in love. It was always your girl friends swearing up and down that “the one” is out there.

“Are you going to teach me how to love, Quinn Hughes?” you said flirtily, placing your hand under your chin.

Quinn reached across the table and grabbed your other hand, “I’m going to show you what a romantic date is supposed to be like. And if you like it, I’ll take you on another. And another. And if we get there, I’ll show you how a real man acts as a boyfriend. And hopefully, along the way, we’ll fall in love. And I won’t say it until I know it’s there.”

“How will you know it’s love?” you asked. He already had you melting at his advances.

“I’ll know when it’s a feeling I’ve never felt before. I’ll know when it’s a feeling that can’t be described as anything but love. Are you in?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Quinn was serious. He didn’t want a fling. He wasn’t here to get sex at the end of the night. He was here to see if he can find the real thing with you. He was here for a challenge.

“I’m in.”

Over dinner you two did the usual small chat about yourselves, but that quickly developed into telling full out stories. It wasn’t awkward with him like it had been on some other first dates. You were strangely very comfortable with him.

He told you about his summer at his lake house with his family and friends, you told him about your trip to London with your cousins. He told you about how he first met Mack when she was drunk off her ass at a party back when she was still dating Brock, the only ex she ended on good terms with and is still friends with, and you told him about how she was not her drunkest at that party, and that one time you two snuck out of a party to have a lightsaber fight but didn’t have lightsabers so you used traffic cones.

“You did not!” Quinn laughed.

“We did!” you shouted over your laughs. You were definitely getting stares, but you didn’t care. “I beat her ass, too.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, quirking his eyebrow.

“Oh yeah. I totally had the high ground.”

Quinn walked you to your car at the end of the night. You two shut down the restaurant, neither one of you desired to leave. You boldly grabbed his hand as you started walking and were relieved when he looped your fingers together in response.

“Did you have a good time?” Quinn asked you when you arrived at your car.

“I really did. I’m not sure I want it to end,” you admitted.

You wanted so badly to ask him to come over. But he told you that he wanted to give you a romantic date, not a pre-sex affair. He’s looking for something real. Something that isn’t just sex.

“Me either,” he smiled.

As you two looked at each other, your eyes started flickering from his to his lips. He noticed, but you knew that he was doing the same.

Your hunger ended when Quinn finally leaned in. His hands slid down your waist and settled on your hips, pulling you closer to him. Yours went up and around his neck, happily content feeling the ends of his hair.

Quinn kissed you in a way that you’ve never been kissed before. It was soft. Sensual. It had you aching for more. The feeling that people describe as “sparks flying?” You were pretty sure this was it.

The kiss wasn’t rough; it wasn’t filled with primal need.

It left you breathless. Lightheaded. Warm.

It was the type of kiss that told you there was more to him. And all you wanted to do was learn.

“That was—“

“Don’t describe it,” Quinn cut you off in a whisper. He reached his hand out to cup your face, “Just feel it.”

All you could do was nod your head. You felt your entire body quivering at his touch.

Quinn smiled and opened up your car door for you, “Tell me when you get home?”

“Y-yeah. I will,” you stammered. You couldn’t stop looking at him.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Drive safe!”

“Goodnight, Quinn,” you smiled.

You watched him walk away in your rear view mirror, smiling madly. Quinn left you feeling like a giddy little girl. It was something that no one else has ever done.

March 16, 2021

You were going on your fifth date with Quinn tonight, and Mack was swearing up and down that Quinn was going to make things official.

“Y/N/N, trust me!” she said while dramatically shaking you by the shoulders.

“I want to!” you laughed, shoving her off of you. “I just don’t want to get any hopes up. We’re going out to have a good time and that’s it!”

“Hopes up you say?” Mack asked as she wiggled her eyebrows. “Does that mean you want Quinn to ask you? Do you, Y/N Y/L/N, WANT a boyfriend just mere weeks after saying you were done with dating forever?”

“I didn’t say forever!”

“Alright!” she surrendered. “I’m keeping my mouth shut because I don’t want to jinx anything, but just know that I am a very happy girl right now!”

You shook your head at your best friend’s nonsense. Okay, maybe you were hoping what she was saying will turn out to be true tonight, and maybe you were liking the goodnight calls and good morning texts and mid day updates. And maybe you relish in the smile Quinn gives you when you stand at the glass during warm ups at his games while you wear his jersey. And maybe you’ve never felt like this before, and it was making you the happiest you’ve ever been. But you weren’t sure if it was love. Love was still a weary and scary concept for you at this point. But maybe… maybe this is pre-love? Maybe this is the build up. Maybe this is the jump before the fall.

You weren’t scared of jumping.

Whatever it is, you’re pretty positive it’s too early for love. You’re just now open to the idea of love because of Quinn, so you certainly were skeptical at the notion of “love at first sight.” Although, it’s been a little too long to count as “first sight.” Love at fifth date? Love at hundredth facetime? Call it what you want, but it still felt way too soon.

You were still doing your makeup when there was a knock at the door, signaling that Quinn was here.

“Mack, could you—“

“I’m already on it!” she cut you off, rushing down the stairs to open the door.

You tried to finish up your mascara really quickly, but that only resulted in your dropping it and smearing some across your cheek.

“Shit!”

“Shit?” you heard Quinn ask. You gasped in surprise, and he just laughed as he approached you. He placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed the top of your head before taking a look at you, “Ahh. I see the source of the shit.”

“It’ll wipe off, it’s fine,” you shrugged. “I’ll just need five more minutes?”

Quinn smiled, “Take all the time you need to feel happy.”

If you were alone and that was a text, you’d probably be kicking your feet at Quinn’s comment. He didn’t say anything teasing that you take forever, he didn’t use the cliché “you look pretty without makeup” or whatever, he said that he wants you to feel happy with your appearance. You didn’t know why that felt more romantic than a compliment; it just did. He was focusing on your emotions and confidence. He was validating you. Validation and understanding feels a lot more intimate than a compliment about your appearance.

“I’m ready!” you sing-songed as you climbed down the stairs.

Quinn was standing at the bottom of the stairs with his hands behind his back and a soft smile on his face.

You jumped from the fourth step down to the second step. You reached out gently to tilt Quinn’s face towards yours and leaned down to crash your lips against his. You stepped down to the final step to become level with when he deepened the kiss. He released one of his hands to place it at the small of your back in order to draw you in, but the other remained.

“Whatcha hidin’, handsome?” you asked cheekily.

Quinn’s other hand quickly whipped around in front of his center and revealed a bouquet of daisies and lavender. You gasped and kissed him quick, taking the bouquet from him and inhaling its sweet scent with a smile after your lips parted.

“They’re beautiful,” you told him.

“They’re not the only thing,” he whispered.

“You flirt,” you blushed.

You both bid your goodbyes to Mackenzie and walked out the door. Quinn rushed slightly ahead of you to open up the passenger door for you before making his way to the driver's seat. It was a quick drive to the mini golf place, and it was filled with you two goofily singing along to the radio.

When you got there, you were surprised at how many people and families there were. It was a Saturday night, but still. You didn’t know this many people went mini golfing at any given moment.

You picked out a pink club, and Quinn grabbed a green one. He held out his hand for you to take, and for once, you didn’t feel weird holding somebody’s hand in public. It was a small act, but it was still a big deal for you. You used to do it with previous boyfriends, but that was because you felt like you had to in order to try and feel like you were in a normal relationship. You want to hold Quinn’s hand. You love the way your hand fits in his and how warm his hands are. You love how rough they feel compared to your soft ones. Just this simple action made you feel safe and less overwhelmed by the amount of people. It made you feel like it was just you and him.

“Ready to lose, Y/L/N?” Quinn taunted you.

“Don’t be so cocky,” you teased back. “I’m a pro at this.”

“You said you haven’t been mini golfing in years!” he pointed out with a laugh.

“I’m trying to speak me winning into the universe, Quintin!”

Needless to say, you were terrible, but Quinn gave you two extra puts each round to try and get you more points. It didn’t make much of a difference for how badly he was beating you, but it made you feel good.

“What ever happened to letting the girl win?” you groaned. “Some gentleman you are.”

Quinn softly smiled and walked over to you. Placing his hands on the small of your back, he kissed you gently, “I’m sorry, baby. I just can’t fake sucking.”

You dramatically threw your head back, groaned, then gave him a pout when you looked back at him. Quinn laughed and kissed you again, effectively wiping the pout off your face.

This was also something big for you– kissing in public. PDA. You’ve never done that. You always pulled away or forced the kiss to be a quick peck instead. You were worried about people staring and judging. But not with Quinn. You didn’t care who was around, you wanted them to know that you were happy.

Unsurprisingly, Quinn won. He cheered with his club in both hands being held above his head, sending you into a fit of giggles.

“Stop parading around like you just won the Stanley Cup!” you shouted.

Quinn whipped his head towards you in mock offense. He walked towards you and kissed you again, much more firmly this time, “I’m sorry you sucked.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckled.

“I do believe me winning deserves a prize!”

“Oh yeah? And what did you have in mind?” you smirked.

You were expecting his answer to be something along the lines of another kiss or going out for ice cream, but what he said proved your best friend to be correct.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked you softly. He was confident in his question. He had the biggest smile on his face that was filled with so much hope and admiration.

“I’d love to,” you answered.

Now Quinn really looked like he won the Stanley Cup. His eyes lit up brighter than you’ve ever seen them, and his smile looked like it hurt. You should know, because your smile was so big that it did hurt. Quinn hugged you so tightly that your feet kicked off the ground and he spun you in a circle. When he put you back down, he kissed you passionately. It was different than every other kiss you two have shared, given that is a small number since this was only your fifth date. This one meant more. This one said more.

When he walked you to your door and kissed you goodbye, you reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him. He turned around slowly, and you knew that the look in your eyes said all that you wanted to say.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“Positive.”

Mackenzie was already in her room for the night, much to your relief. You and Quinn kissed all the way up the stairs and into your bedroom. The second your bedroom door closed; clothes began to be thrown off. He threw you on your back onto your bed like it was nothing, then he climbed on top of you and began to pepper kissed up your stomach, through your neck, across your jaw, until he finally reached your lips again.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he said low.

“Don’t stop,” you panted. “Please don’t stop.”

April 14, 2021

You were pretty sure you were feeling it. No, you knew you were feeling it.

Love.

You were feeling just like the movies and love songs and poems said– you were enamored by Quinn. You missed him so bad that it hurt when you weren’t with him, especially when he was on roadies during the season (you were selfishly glad that it’s over for the time being). You felt like the best version of yourself when he was around. But you were also learning that your definition of love was so much more than that.

“OH MY GOD! I KNEW IT WOULD HAPPEN! I KNEW IT!” Mackenzie screamed when you told her.

“Alright!” you giggled. “You knew it, you did it, congratulations! Now how do I tell him? Do I wait for him to tell me? What if it goes away and I don’t–”

“Are you sure it’s love?” she cut you off.

“I am. It’s new, and it’s freeing, and it’s–agh! It’s perfect. It has to be,” you said, covering your hands over your face so that she couldn’t see how wildly you were blushing and grinning.

Mack grabbed your wrists and yanked your hands off your face, “I don’t think that’s going away, babe! Now tell me! The deal was that you’d tell me what love is! Spill it! And don’t quote the movies!”

“I think love is different for everybody. I’m feeling the stuff that they say in the movies and the sonnets and the songs, but it’s so much more than that. Love is… wild. Love is like a never-ending joy ride with the windows down and your favorite songs blaring on the stereo. Love is like that feeling you get in your body when you hear a new song, and it absolutely consumes you to where you heat up and feel like you're vibrating. Love is feeling like you could do the impossible as long as your person is right there beside you. Love can feel like you’re flying.

“But love can also make you feel safe. Love is feeling at home with your person, no matter where you are. You could be in the backseat of a car, but if you were with your person? That could be home for the time being. Love is like that feeling of pride and relief when you deep clean your house for the first time in forever. Love is like sitting by the ocean and watching the waves crash against the sand, and none of the sand ends up in your shoes.

“Loving Quinn feels like a breath of fresh air. Loving Quinn makes me feel like I finally know who I am and who I could be. Loving Quinn makes me feel alive for the very first time. It’s everything.”

Mack looked like she could burst into tears then and there. You were about to hug her when an all too familiar voice ceased your movements.

“Did you mean that?”

You turned around so quickly that your head spun. There, standing at the edge of your living room, was Quinn.

“Yeah,” you whispered with a nod. “Every word.”

Quinn rushed towards you and cupped your face, slamming his lips onto yours. You heard Mack clap with glee, but you didn’t care. She was slipping away, and only you and Quinn existed in the world at this very moment.

“I love you,” you breathed when you two had to come up for air.

“I love you,” Quinn echoed. “You described it perfectly. I felt every word. I am helplessly, irrevocably, completely, and utterly in love with you. I’ll never stop saying it. Not now that I know what it means.”

“I didn’t believe in love before you. I didn’t know what love was. It’s you, Quinn. My love is yours, and only yours.”

The smile on Quinn’s face was contagious, but your face was already painted with one. You didn’t expect to fall in love, and you certainly didn’t expect to say it first. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was a god, maybe it was the stars aligning. You didn’t know why, but you did know that you were made to love Quinn Hughes alongside all of the other things you were made for.

Love was real. And you can’t live without it. And you’re so glad that you learned that.

———

reblogs appreciated! it helps spread the fic <3

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #quinn hughes reader insert #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fanfiction

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judasgot-it · 2 months

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String Me By My Sins, So I Can Be Clean

Scenario: You found out. Yandere!Fyodor x Reader. Part 1 Word count: 1.2 K @ceramic-raven because you encouraged me to write a part 2. I hope you don't mind being tagged <3

Sitting in your small bathroom, you stared at a small patch that stared back at you.

21 mg. Nicotine. A beige-colored patch.

Just a minute ago, it had been adhered to your skin while you were sleeping, as if you had put it on yourself.

You don't smoke. You never smoked.

The only person you knew to smoke was Nikolai or Fukuchi, but you didn't know them to use patches. They only smoked socially, on good days when they could people watch or when Nikolai could show off vape tricks.

Fyodor had never dared to touch a cigarette, always claiming it as a hazard to his health. His lungs were probably as weak as the rest of his constitution, so you believed it.

So why the hell was it on your skin?

You wanted to ask him yourself, but he was sleeping.

Was it a good idea to wake him up?

You looked out into the darkness of your shared bed with Fyodor, looking at his sleeping form. His small frame was curled in a pile of blankets, curled against a feather pillow - like the princess and the pea, as you could see that he never looked truly comfortable.

The patch could be left for the morning.

He was smart. It must have had some sort of reasoning, shouldn't it?

Fyodor always found things out with almost no context needed. He could figure out the reason. You trusted him.

You had gone back to the bathroom. The patch was missing.

The trash, for once, taken out. In fact, it seemed the whole apartment had been meticulously cleaned.

You remembered that patch stared at you. The pain of removing it from your skin. How hard you had to pull it from your skin.

So where did it fucking go?

"Hey babe!"

You called for Fyodor, knowing that he was most likely working on the same projects that he always was. Whatever it was, he would be able to answer you, right?

There was no response from him this time though. You called again, but you were left with silence.

Padding towards his 'office space' you found that he had his headphones on. Was he busy today and hadn't bothered to tell you beforehand? Usually, he was rather meticulous about that.

Gently, you poked his shoulder, hoping to get his attention.

Fyodor only grunted, giving a sign of recognition. You tried again, hoping he would respond.

"Are you busy? I wanted to talk to you about something that happened last night."

Fyodor turned only slightly, his eyes still facing his screen - absorbed on whatever 'work' was on his screen. Code that you never bothered to learn to understand, that became a source of frustration as it seemed more important now.

"Yeah, what is it?"

Complete disinterest.

"I found like. A nicotine patch, last night. On me. Fyodor, that's weird, right?"

His eyes finally looked at you, although they were only glancing, at best.

"It is. You don't smoke, do you?"

"What?"

You took a moment to look at him. What the hell was he implying by that? He knew you never did. You always rejected them, since he was so sensitive to smells.

"If you do, you can tell me. I won't judge you."

His voice was soft, unjudgemental at the implication of you even having an addiction. You tried to keep calm through you frustration.

"I don't smoke. You know I don't, asshole! It's really weird that it showed up on my body like that, isn't it?"

You hoped he would help you. But he didn't even seem to care about your predicament so far, instead lazily moving typing commands on his keyboard like a sort of wizard.

"It is weird. If neither of us smoke, then how did it get there, hm? Maybe someone is playing a prank on you. Do you have the patch? We can figure out more about it from there."

He had leaned back, as calm about this conversation as anyone could possibly be. You wanted to kill him.

"It was on the bathroom counter when I took it off last night. I can't find it though!"

You couldn't help raising your voice at the end. For some reason, your frustration was building up so easily it was nearly boiling over.

It wasn't fair to take it out on Fyodor. He gave you a look as well, because well, you knew that you were being emotional about this.

It was just weird. Why was this upsetting you so much? You weren't usually upset so quickly like this.

"Sorry. But I'm being serious Fyo."

Trying your best to calm down, you took a deep inhale. Your lungs filled with air, clearing your head, if only a little.

There was still a frustration coursing through your veins, making you want to pull at Fyodor's hair for being so...well, him. Just being himself, right now.

Is he doing it on fucking purpose? Is he trying to piss you off as much as possible?

He's the smartest man you know, this isn't any real detective work. Fyodor knows why you're feeling the way you are. He can clearly tell that this actually happened - that you aren't fucking crazy.

So why is he acting like you are?

"Of course you are. I believe you, sweetheart. But what's the real problem here?"

His tired eyes slowly blinked at you. There was an emotion lurking in there, but you really didn't know how to describe it.

It was gentle, but not kind.

"Well. It was put on me. That means someone is drugging me. It's violating."

"I can see why you feel that way, yes. But maybe it was just an accident? People on the street these days are rather crazy-looney."

Fyodor had the gall to laugh as he said that, finding humor in his own words as he didn't find your plight worth crying over. There was no fret - being drugged was an everyday occurance.

Tomorrow you could be stabbed with heroin and it would just be an everyday occurrence, right? Worse things could happen to you. Maybe you would accidentally inhale deadly amounts of cocaine since this was just normal.

"Oh I can't believe you."

You left the room. At that moment you just wanted to punch Fyodor.

Did he always look that punchable? With his stupid smirk and pale, dead-looking skin. His eyes seemed so dead, with no read smile attached to them.

It was hard to look at him without feeling enraged.

"And where do you think you're going, sunshine?"

"Anywhere! If I have to see you again, I would probably. Oh!"

You made a noise as you kicked the door, rushing to just get out and get away from the source of your anxiety.

It felt natural, running outside and walking - letting the adrenaline in your body take you as far as it would let you.

Where were you going?

A hand on your arm stopped you. You turned around, the calm face that matched the pale skin - his dead purple eyes were smiling, although it made you stop dead in your tracks.

Where were you going?

You didn't have anything besides Fyodor.

"Please. Just leave me alone."

"You're being irrational, my dear. It's embarrassing."

The hold he had on your arm was tight, some hidden strength he carried that you never knew existed. Pulled did nothing, and there were tears pushing against your face as you felt the feeling again -

Trapped.

"Please. Fucking just. Let me go."

Shaking his head, Fyodor pulled you in - his face rested against your forehead, but the pull his hand had on his scalp was anything but gentle.

He was mad. About what?

Why did it always end up this way?

Honestly this can be stand alone, but YAY i finally finished this !!!! To the people who wanted this, I hope you enjoy this cuz this was kinda lot for me idk why.

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x y/n #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor bsd x reader #yandere bsd #yandere fyodor #yandere x reader #hey fellas ignore the fact this took forever to write btw

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cherrieflavouredheadcanons · 8 months

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Hello! Can I apply for a general relationship hc with Lyney?

Ah yes, greatest magican, aka the rizzard. I should say that at the point of writing this, I still have not played his character story and have evaded spoilers for it very well so far, so if anything is not that accurate that's why. But I hope you enjoy these headcanons!

CW: None GN Reader

Lyney Relationship Headcanons

Let me start this off by saying. This man is an absolute simp for you. If he could, he'd buy you everything you could ever want or need in life.

He lives to see you happy, a day where he hasn’t made you smile and laugh is a day he considered wasted. If the people of Fontaines believe in justice is the power used to energise the technology in Fontaine, then your laughs and smiles are the power to energise Lyney.

Lyney always gives you a rainbow rose before every date. Sometimes he gives them to you like a normal person, most of the time though he will give them to you with a magic trick. You have no idea what he does to the flowers, but he has to do something with them since they never seem to wilt away. You once asked him how he did it and all he claimed was “They will bloom as long as I love you my dear, which means they will bloom forever.”

Surprising you with magic tricks is one of his favourite activities. He comes up with so many ideas that it is impossible to carry them all out. And poor Lynette always has to help him set up the ones he does carry out and has to be his assistant for them, even if she is hidden somewhere so you won’t see her. She loves her brother truly, but by the Archons his love sick self could be annoying.

Speaking of magic tricks, for every one of his shows he has a seat reserved for you. He is aware that you can’t go to every one of his and Lynette’s shows, but he still reserves a seat for you anyways. So that when you are watching them you are always in the same seat and he can easily find your eyes amongst the many people in the audience. He will look at you, and his eyes turn soft and his smile grows a bit wider.

And should he ever need an assistant from the audience? Well lets just say that whenever you are watching the number generator randomly picks you every time. What a coincidence right?

Walking through the streets of Fontaine while holding hands is a must for him. He wants everyone to see what an amazing partner he has. If it were up to him all of Teyvat would know that he is taken and absolutely enamoured by you.

Though it should be said that despite being absolutely in love with you, Lyney would not be in a relationship with you if his sister or brother couldn’t stand you. They are a big and very important part of his life, and anyone who does not like them has no place in his life and heart. Luckily for you Lynette likes you, she sees how happy you make her brother. Freminet appreciates that you do not force him to speak when he is clearly uncomfortable and is also grateful for you that you treat them all with respect and love.

Whenever you aren’t paying attention to your surroundings, be it because you are sitting somewhere and reading a book, engrossed in the story, or because you are cooking a meal for Lyney, his siblings and well yourself, he will sneak up on you from behind and wrap his arms around you, kissing your cheek as he laughs. You want to be mad at him for scaring you, but how can you when he laughs so happily and his eyes shine with love?

While Lyney obviously has many magic tricks he works on to show them in front of a big audience and always has Lynette as his assistant. There is one trick that he is currently planning where he doesn’t want an audience or an assistant for.

What is that trick? Well let’s just say it has to do with a ring sitting in a small velvet box ;)

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #lyney x reader #genshin headcanons #lyney #genshin x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin lyney #lyney x you #lyney fluff #genshin impact lyney #lyney headcanons #genshin impact x you #genshin fluff

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bagdaddyb · 7 months

Note

Hi!! Oh my gosh seeing you posting again was such a huge joy and surprise for me I’m so glad to read your new work!!!

I was wondering if you could write a wanda maximoff x fem!reader ABO fic where either Wanda or reader are new to the team with a whole bunch of pining where they eventually figure out that they are each others mate? You can make either Wanda or reader alpha/omega!

It’s super okay if you aren’t feeling this request, either way I’m so excited to read more of the amazing work you share with us!!!

Hiiiii! So I got super carried away with this and I originally intended for this to be mean emo Wanda but sweet soft Wanda took over, I hope you enjoy! 💗

Pairing: alphag!p Wanda x omega fem! spyReader

Warning: Sickeningly Sweet, 18+ MINOR DNI NSFW NSFW

AN: Wanda 🥰

You'd only been on the team for a year when the mess with Ultron happened. It all happened so fast, you could barely process everything happening around you before something new would arise. Sitting across from Natasha sipping coffee as you spied on the twin alphas you felt the most relaxed you had in weeks. Natasha kept glancing their way while your focus stayed on her, two people staring was more suspicious than one. You and the red head proved to be a good team over the past year. Two omega spies flying under everyones radar. The world still assumed the Black Widow a one woman show and no one would ever believe her to be an omega. The breeze felt nice on your back, bringing a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear before looking down at your coffee.

"This has been a real shit show eh?"

Your voice held a familiar accent one you'd grown used to using under your many aliases. Natasha's eyes returned to you as she sipped her own drink.

"Not anymore than usual."

You hummed in response eyes wondering to the innocent civilians around you. Sipping your own cup you wonder if life would be better among them. Oblivious to the realities of the world to caught up in your own day to day menial task. The weight of this job seemed to weigh a bit heavier on your shoulders everyday, the question of wether the people you save amounts to the people you don't plaguing.

"S toboy vse v poryadke?" (Are you alright?)

The red head ask and you nod eyes returning to hers.

"Tired, it seems everytime we try to relax something detrimental in the world happens. I wonder what it would do without us."

A small chuckle escapes Natasha despite the truth in your words, her eyes shooting to the pair on her right once more. Though not a 'graduate' of the red room you hold your own tramatic story. Experimented on in the basement of Oscorp for years you'd been turned into a lab rat by the corpo bastards that owned the building. You'd escaped only three years ago, changed. Transformed into a human machiene, non-aging, ridiculously strong with a sirens song. You did the only thing you could and played the cards you were delt. Seducing mediocre alphas out of millions before any one even got a whiff of your existence but you could truly only thank Natasha for that. It wasn't until Natasha was taken down but the Black Widow kept striking that shield realized there was more than met the eye. It was Tony himself that went undercover to catch you and honestly had he not been an Avenger with intel he would of ended up caught himself. Another rich egotistical alpha who thought himself on top of the world. You didn't go down easy and spent a week in a cell before even uttering a word. In retrospect it all seems silly now you often think about how much time you wasted fighting the people who wanted nothing more than to help you. Eyes lifting to Natasha's face you can't help but feel greatful for the opportunity she's given you to help others like you.

"They're on the move."

You hum in acknowledgment before finishing off your drink mind finally wondering to the matter at hand. Your mission was recruitment nothing more. Ultron having been made unreasonably strong by the twins he somehow came to be in alliance with. You'd gained enough information merely listening in on their conversation, so you and Natasha retreated returning to the group in order to solidify your advances. Standing in time with Natasha you link your arm in hers smiling before chatting away about absolutely nothing in russian. Missing the way a certain alpha glanced your way when your scent drifted down wind. It only took twenty four hours for everything to go to shit almost a record breaker in your books. Ultron whineded up to be nothing after the male alpha was nere fatally injured the red headed woman taking care of him like clockwork. Luckily your team stood nearby able to quickly extract the alpha towards safety and medical attention. You worked efficiently getting him secured before moving to help the rest of your team fight off Ultron's bots and it isn't until the end when you stand with the support of Thor that you realize the red headed alpha had come with you. Returning to the compound there is tension on the quinjet. The group unsure what to do with the twin alphas who quite literally just tried to murder them and it causes you to roll your eyes.

"You could at least not talk about them as if they aren't right there."

You scold before moving towards the pair. The red head having been unmoving crouched over her unconscious brother.

"Privet." (Hello.)

You say making yourself known as you approach the alpha causing her to glance up at you.

"On dolzhen polnost'yu vyzdorovet'." (He should make a full recovery.)

You speak in a whisper trying to be soft.

"YA uveren, chto on ne khotel by, chtoby vy bespokoilis'." (I'm sure he wouldn't want you to worry.)

The woman merely returns her eyes to the unconscious man below her.

"Will you lock us up? Treat us once again like dogs?"

Your eyebrows raise and your posture straightens.

"No of course not, everyone deserves a second chance. You believed you were fighting for the right thing, there are many on this team who have been in a similar circumstance. Do not believe simply because we are labeled supergeroi that none of us have a dark past." (Superheroes)

With that you take your leave allowing the woman to be with her loved one. Upon returning to the compound you go into seclusion, you needed a break both mentally and physically. Just a few days where the world wasn't ending and it was entirely up to you to save it. Six days later you emerge slightly re-energized and fresh ready for the next catastrophe. The first place you visit is the gym already hearing Natasha's scolding on breaking your routine as you pass the common room you see the two twins on the couch alone. In this light you see them both clearly, while they hold the title twin they couldn't look more different. You study them both your eyes lingering on the red head. She was an attractive alpha, very attractive. You hear the tv playing but don't recognize the program they have on. Detouring into the room you catch their attention waving as you approach.

"Hello, I am rather embarrassed to say we never formally met. I am (Y/N) nice to meet you both."

You bow your head in greeting sending them a bright smile and both of them seem to freeze obviously caught off guard by your friendly approach. The male recovers first standing up before bowing his head back and sticking out his hand.

"Pietro, and that is my sestra Wanda."

You recognize his accent reaching to grip his hand in yours.

"A pleasure, I hope you two are adjusting well."

It isn't until then his sister jumps up a slight flush on her cheeks.

"It has been familiar, we are rather alienated but that is how it has always been."

You hum in response fighting back the disappointment in your expression.

"Don't fret, we are a group of antisocial extroverts forced to be in a group setting. Well expect for Tony but it just takes us all time to engage and meet new people, they will come around before long."

You finish with a smile.

"Have you two at least been taken care of? Food, water, lodging?"

They nod simultaneously and its enough for you.

"Good well I'm off to the gym, don't be strangers."

With that you leave not taking note of the full face flush on the woman's face.

"Kto-nibud' nashel svoyu sestru-omegu?" (Has someone found their omega sister?)

Pietro says in a teasing tone and Wanda punches him in the shoulder muttering at him to shut up. The moment you cross the threshold of the gym you flinch.

"Nu posmotrite, kto eto." (Well look who it is.)

"Can we skip past the part where you scold me so I can just apologize?"

You ask turning to meet Natasha's sharp gaze.

"Will your muscles magically regain their mass?"

"No."

You sigh accepting your defeat beginning to stretch as Natasha begins her speech on commitment. It is another four days before everyone finally comes around to the twins slotting them in as if theyed been there since the beginning just as they had you. Walking towards the gym you release a content sigh, a full ten days since the world seemed as though it'd collapse. What bliss. Quickly looking up your eyes fantically search for some wood unwilling to risk jinxing yourself.

"Dobroye utro." (Good morning.")

You hear from behind turning to be greeted by Wanda.

"Good morning indeed. Off for your morning cuppa are you?"

You ask and Wanda merely nods in response fighting back a yawn.

"Not a morning person?"

You ask with a smile walking beside Wanda.

"Not at all."

She says somewhat grumpily.

"Then what are you doing up at six a.m?"

You ask with a laugh and Wanda has to fight back a blush. She couldn't admit that she woke up at this time merely to see you every morning but what could she say.

"I like to cook but I'm not very good at it.... so I practice early before the others wake up."

The words spill out of her mouth quickly unable to think of anything better and you beam your white smile at her.

"Well how about tomorrow you sleep in till eight then I can help you learn, I am an amazing cook. I even know how to make some traditional dishes."

Wanda can't help the flush that comes to her face this time and it makes you feel a tingle inside.

"Okay."

The red head responds and you nod giving her arm a little reassuring squeeze as you come upon the kitchen.

"Good luck dorogoy." (Dear)

You say before continuing onto the gym and Wanda is sure her face matches her hair. Sure enough the next morning Wanda doesn't head towards the kitchen instead she spends the morning pacing her room anxiety ridden. You'd said for her to sleep in but how could she when you agreed to spend alone time with her. She couldn't tell Pietro and deal with his repeated teasing so she kept the information in slowly but surely having a meltdown. As she paced she played with her hair, bit her finger, twiddled her thumbs. God she couldn't do this. She'd literally been an experiment for Hydra and never felt this nervous in her life. The time passed quickly. To quickly. Right as she truly began to spiral there was a knock at her door, eyes shooting to the clock she realizes its already eight o'clock. Brushing off her clothes quickly before taking a few deep breaths and recuperating she opens her door. The moment her eyes land on you it all seems for naught, your hair is tied back. You wear tights and a tshirt covered by an apron. Your eyes spakle matched by your bright smile and Wanda feels herself melt a bit.

"I figured you'd meet me in the kukhnya." (Kitchen)

You say with a giggle and Wanda becomes a tomato realizing its not only eight but eight eleven.

"I'm sorry I slept in and lost all track of time."

You hum with a smile clearly not mad at all before turning to be on your way.

"All is fine I just didn't want to start without you."

Wanda follows behind you closing her door quickly. Her eyes wonder your body not being able to help staring at your ass.

"Ty slushayesh'?" (Are you listening?)

Wanda's eyes shoot up attention back on your voice.

"I asked what your favorite dish is."

"Oh um I love traditional pirozhki, my mother used to make them just slightly burnt at the edges. The taste reminds me of home."

You turn and smile softly her way.

"Perfect then that's what we will make, cooking can seem overwhelming but it isn't as scary as many think. I always recommend learning to cook for yourself first because it is much easier than cooking for others."

In the kitchen you gather the suppiles, you cooked often so the ingredients for this dish were easily found.

"I'll have you make the dough, it is all simply measurements so I'll do no more than verbal instructions."

You say as you prepare the area for Wanda.

"Here put this on, gotta protect your clothes and tie your hair back no one wants hair in their food."

Handing the apron to Wanda while standing by waiting. You bite your lip as you watch her. Running her fingers through silky red locks before pulling it up exposing her neck to you. She wore grey sweatpants and a baggy t. The sweatpants doing little to hide the member between her legs and you press your thighs together pleasurably. Wanda on the other hand was trying to think about how to see this lie through. She was an amazing cook, taking the responsibility of her brother from a young age. How was she going to play clueless. She should of at least said a dish she truly wasn't aware of how to make but when you asked her favortie food she couldn't help but answer honestly. You talked Wanda through the steps praising her for being a natural when the dough came out well. Leaving it to make the filling.

"What did your mom fill hers with? I do a simple meat and rice mixture since it goes along with my bulk."

Wanda nods along as she listens debating a moment before responding.

"Lets make them like yours, I've never had them any other way and I'd be eager to try."

You smile brightly at the alpha before nodding in response. Again you talk her through it always believing hands on with clear instruction was the best way to learn any skill. It gave the student mutiple ways to intake the information and made it harder to forget. Once the process is complete you help Wanda cut and stuff the dough, this part of the process being the longest and most tedious. You leave her to fry them as she likes since she'd mentioned her mom let them cook a bit longer and instead move to clean around her. Never a fan of a messy workspace. You hum as you clean, mindlessly really. It seems a tune that always floats around you. One Wanda is sure she's heard you hum before. By the time Wanda is done cooking you've cleaned the kitchen and are able to sit down and enjoy the meal with her. Of course the moment doesn't last and before either of you can even take a bite the smell of food draws in hungry Avengers.

"Mne vsegda nravitsya, kogda ty gotovish'." (I always love when you cook.)

Natasha says entering first, the smell of traditional food equivalent to a cat with its automatic feeder. Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Sam all slowly trickle in after stomachs growling audibly making you laugh.

"I suppose if I didn't cook every once in a while no one would eat around here hmmm?"

The group shares a laugh as they line up one by one to make plates.

"But in all honesty this meal is thanks to Wanda not me, I merely talked her through the steps."

Wanda can't hide the pink that dust her cheeks and all is going well until a certain twin walks in.

"Pirozhki! You always cook the best food sestra."

The blonde kisses his sisters head as he passes by and you can't help the eyebrow that raises in response.

"Always hmmm?"

You hum and Wanda is saved by the entrance of Thor who could of eaten the entire helping had he got here first.

"Mighty (Y/N) your meals are always most invigorating."

You smile at the God and try not laugh when you see his downcast face once he realizes he is the last one to show. Wiping your face after you finish you excuse yourself it was already nearing noon and you still hadn't even looked at the moutain of paperwork on your desk. Wanda watches you go. Over the next three weeks you and Wanda grow closer she begins training with you and Natasha in the mornings and you read with her sometimes in the afternoons, you don't question her about Pietro's comment after your cooking fiasco and Wanda never says anything about it because that woukd mean admitting to you that she was desperate to spend time with you.

"Soo?"

Natasha ask as the two of you jog around the gardens. It was early afternoon in fall, the cool winds combating your rising body heat making the jog enjoyable.

"Nothing."

"Yebat' will she ever make a move?" (Fuck)

You merely shrug.

"I don't know, I'll start showing signs of heat by the end of the week if that doesn't trigger her there's no hope."

Natasha laughs at that.

"Tak khochetsya al'fu, da?" (So eager for an alpha eh?)

"Not just any alpha, Wanda."

The week passes slowly and as the weekend gets closer your pheromones get stronger. The team knew your heat was approaching as they kept a calander for the Alphas so they could know when to distance, well everyone except Wanda apparently. Its Thursday night by the time she's had enough of your distance and decides to ask why you aren't at the table for dinner with the rest of the team.

"Where's (Y/N), I swear I haven't seen her all week."

Natasha sends a small smirk Wanda's way before Steve speaks up.

"Her heat is approaching so she is keeping extra distance for everyones saftey, she should come back around a week or so from today."

Pink hue coats Wanda's cheeks as the thought of you in heat takes over her mind and the pink only gets darker as her hard on begins to form in her pants. Her mind plummets into thoughts about your slick, and body. Thoughts about filling you with her seed and you being full with her pups causes her to be embarrassed by how hard she's become. If not for the table her bulge would be hard to miss. Wanda remains in a fog for the rest of dinner try as she might she couldn't get her mind off mating you and as everyone stands to part ways she remains seated making the excuse that she'd clean up the kitchen. Wanda strained painfully against her pants she could almost smell you now.

Rubbing your sides you walk towards the kitchen dinner should be over by now and you're starving. You need to get as many calories in as you can before you succumb to your heat tomorrow. The pain was slowly starting to set in and you'd be lying if you said you were looking foreward to the next seven days. You let out a groan as you turn the corner a sudden sharp pain stabbing your side. As you enter the threshold of the kitchen goosebumps rise on your skin the familiar smell of Wanda infultrating your nose before your eyes lock with the alphas. You're almost sure you see Wanda begin to tremble but you quickly begin to back away.

"I'm sorry I thought everyone would be gone by now."

You go to retreat from the kitchen and Wanda stands so quickly her chair falls behind her. In a second she's in your face grabbing you softly by the jaw making you look at her.

"Omega."

She whispers as she sniffs at you rubbing her nose against your cheek before falling to your scent gland.

"Mate."

She whispers again and you chirp. Your omega finally satisfied being acknowledged by your alpha. For a few minutes nothing happens, the two of you stand there relishing eachothers presence. You chirp at her as she lightly growls at you and you feel satisfied, whole even. Then you are painfully reminded of your situation causing you to sharply intake air and groan. Wanda growls louder at the noise of your distress and you whimper.

"It hurts."

Wanda's grip on your jaw becomes tighter, pushing you into the wall before pressing her own body against yours.

"Tell me where it hurts, I'll take care you shchenok." (Puppy)

You groan again, your heat suddenly over taking your senses as a result of having your mate so close. Your hands raise to grip Wanda's arms tightly, nails digging into her skin through the fabric of her shirt.

"Need you, please. Alpha. Mate."

Your words come out as little whimpers. Your panting, you don't know why but suddenly you can't get enough air for full breaths. So caught up in Wanda you don't even process you're about to be mated in the tower kitchen but honestly you don't care either. Wanda however does she feels territorial, primal even. She needs you to herself, needs privacy with you. She'd attack anyone who might see your bare body if she mated you here. Her room was on the other side of the compound, the alpha side far from the omegas and living area but your room was just down the hall. Wanda releases your jaw hands moving down your body till she reaches the back of your thigh. You bite your lip enjoying the electricity you felt from her touch. As she picks you up you wrap your legs around her torso tightly. Her hands against your thighs causing your sex to tingle. You wrap one hand around her neck before running the other through soft red hair. You return to chirping at her, the feeling of finding your mate an overwhelmingly happy one. You rub your cheek against hers softly and the alpha lightly growls in acknowledgment. You are consumed by Wanda's presence unable to focus on anything but her. When she lays you lightly on your bed you aren't even sure where you are, you just know you're there with her. Wanda bends over you, tucking her nose into your scent gland once more and growling loudly. She needs you, needs you marked, claimed. Needs everyone to know you belong to her.

"Mate."

The word is once again a whisper but you hear it all the same. The time to romantically strip you would have to be later gripping opposite sides of the loose shirt you wore the alpha literally tears the cloth off of you exposing your bra cladded torso to her. Your breathing speeds up the intimacy of the moment undeniable as you feel Wanda begin to run her lips down your body. It was like electric shock, the currents Wanda's touch sent through your body. She magiced your bra away completely exposing your upper half and growling as her soft lips wrapped around your nipple. You moan loudly in response, it felt good too good. You could get lost in this sensation alone.

"Mine."

Wanda growls against your skin before moving along to your other nipple. Your hands grip at Wanda through her clothes before you whimper.

"Need to feel you alpha."

Wanda growls in response, her eyes glowing red as she magics away her own clothing her skin now pressing against yours. She moves back up your body mouth hovering close before she lays claim to your own. The kiss is magical, the locking of your lips causing what you could only descibe as bliss throughout your whole body. You felt like you were glowing arms and legs wrapping around the alpha tightly you were sure this must be heaven. Wanda began to grind against you through the fabric of your pants, your underwear gliding against your excessive amount of slick. You blush, embarrassed by how wet you truly are from so little foreplay but the feeling doesnt last long when Wanda growls above you. Wanda pulls your pants off your waist guiding them down your thighs just enough to expose your slick and shudders when the smell of you tingles her nostrils. She's overcome with the need to knot you, breed you as she makes her mark on your neck. But she also feels the feral need to take you, to have your slick dripping down her chin as she causes you to come apart on her tongue. Starting with the latter she pulls your pants off quickly. Breaking away from your lips to slowly kiss down your body. You take a long gasp of air eyes dialating as you watch Wanda work her way down. Your hips begin to twitch unable to stay still at the excitement of what was about to come. Wanda's hands move to firmly grip your waist holding you in place as she kisses your stomach moving lower and lower your stomach muscles flex, a wave of arousal flowing through you. When she reaches her destination her hands move to your thighs lifting them up to hold you wide open for her. You're leaking, literally and Wanda can't wait to have a taste. She dives in slurping up the excess before moving to your center. Sucking on your clit then tongue fucking you like a woman starved. Your slick quenches a thirst Wanda didn't even know she had tongue lapping at your clit before quickly moving towards your hole eager to drink up the slick as a result. It doesn't take long and under normal circumstances you're sure you would of been embarrassed but none of that matters when your muscles spasm. Back arching in the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced, your thighs shake, eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream. Wanda doesn't stop eagerly drinking up your orgasm before wanting, no needing you to do that again. You whimper in overstimulation but don't stop your alpha, just as turned on by her need for you. You squirm against the red heads mouth a little towards her a little away, this time you last longer if only for your slight sensitivity causing time before the feeling was pleasurable again yet you cum all the same. Wanda moans loudly as you release into her mouth again. She could do this all day she's sure of it. But now as her precum begins to soak her boxers she knows its time. Lifting onto her knees between your legs red eyes glow as her pants disappear and through your haze you see her in all her glory. You reach down gripping her in your hand moaning at the size while she moans at the sensation. You pump her, an overwhelming feeling to suck her down your through the way she'd done you comes over you but Wanda quickly grabs your hand removing you from her.

"You're going to make me bust shchenok." (Puppy)

Wanda hesitates a second if only to allow her own incoming orgasm to subside, she needed to bury herself in you and it wouldn't look good for her if it ended just as quickly as it started. In the meantime she leans down over you meeting your lips in a hungry kiss the taste of you on her lips causing another wave of your own slick to pool between your legs. You push at her lower back willing her to enter you but she resist. Kissing you eagerly before breaking to kiss to move towards your scent gland, you pant quickly. Wanda's kiss having stolen all the air from your lungs.

"Mine."

Wanda whispers against you, hips beginning to grind against your slick in order to lubricate herself. You shudder in response.

"Yours alpha, take me. I want to be yours."

Wanda reaches down gripping herself in order to slowly slide into you. She's thick stretching you out in ways only she can, the burn sends waves through you and by the time she's completely sheathed you're a whimpering mess.

"Yebat' you're so tight." (Fuck)

She pulls out only to slam back into you, her pace is brutal, hips slamming against yours hitting a sweet spot you didn't even know you had repeatedly. Your moans are as loud as the sound of your wet slick sucking Wanda back in. You claw at her wanting her impossibly closer as she fucked you into next week.

"Holy fuck I'm cumming. Alpha. Alpha."

Your eyes roll back as you arch. The orgasm makes you see white and Wanda doesnt stop. You squirting fueling her ego.

"That's right shchenok. You love the way your alpha fucks you, love how deep I am in you. Look shchenok can you see me."

Wanda brings your gaze down the visible bulge in your stomach when the alpha bottoms out causing your stomach to tighten.

"I'm right here."

Wanda says as she pushes down on the bulge and you spasm again another light orgasm washing through you.

"Fuck I'm gonna fill you up, get you pregnant with my pup."

Wanda pumps into you harder, her knot slamming against your entrance as she nears her own release.

"Alpha. Alpha."

You whimper to fucked out to form any other words.

"You're gonna look so pretty swollen with my seed all mine."

You moan again as Wanda bends towards your scent gland the feel of her canines against your neck enough to almost send you over the edge. She sinks her teeth into you right as you hear a pop. Her knot having settled inside you easily combined with the blackout orgasm of your mating bite. When you come to Wanda is still knotted deep inside you. Nuzzling at your cheeks with a low growl. You chirp back to weak to do much else and Wanda hums.

"My mate, my omega."

10 months later.

You were exhausted, to say the least. A new born was a lot of work and a lot of lost sleep. Wanda wasn't here, literally dragged away for a debrief she was required to attend. If you were honest you didn't mind, she'd been slightly smothering you since you gave birth and while you loved her for it just because you gave birth didn't mean you were no longer a functioning adult. You'd been picking petty arguments since your third trimester which you always felt bad for. It was the hormones combined with being put on bedrest so you didn't get to do your job combined with sexual frustration since the doctor said it was no longer safe for intercourse. You sighed as you stepped out of the shower, now with the added insecurities about the changes in your body since pregnancy and child birth you weren't sure you even wanted Wanda to touch you. Ignoring the mirror you dry yourself before wrapping a towel around you. Exiting the bathroom right as your little baby boy woke up with soft cries. You coo at him lifting him out of his crib you lose your towel throwing it over the side in order to hold your baby against your bare chest. You were barely one month postpartum but glad to be past the part where you were in a sense literally wearing a human diaper. Your son instantly calms at the sound of your heart beat as you bounce him lightly moving to sit in your bed you lean against the headboard letting out slightly pained noises as you try and relax your overworked back. You cover your lower half with the blanket already feeling the chill of the room as you begin to hum at your son. You don't hear the door open to focused to the little boy in your arms, getting comfortable as you move him to breast feed. You hiss as he begins to work at your sore nipple but eventually relax becoming accustomed to the pain. You rub his little head of hair softly smiling at him a fullness in your heart only created by the birth of your child as Wanda makes her pressence known.

"You're so beautiful dorogaya." (Dearheart)

You bite back your own insecurities at her comment humming in response. Looking up you meet Wanda's piercing eyes before meeting her lips in a kiss.

"I mean it dorogaya or have you forgotten I can hear your thoughts."

You can't help but frown not used to not being able to keep secrets.

"But...."

"Ah ah ah no buts, you're even more beautiful now than the day we met. Pregnancy and childbirth has given you a glow nothing else can."

You sigh a familiar warmth filling your chest in response to Wanda's love.

"YA tebya lyublyu." (I love you)

You whisper your free hand coming to rub against Wanda's cheek.

"I ya lyublyu tebya. Forever and always." (And I love you)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlett witch #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #alpha wanda #omega reader #bagdaddyb #request

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maximumkillshot · 5 months

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I Won't Lose You- ICLY 7.5

Warnings: Cheater POV, a lot of not nice things are said. Definitely something to think about if you are sensitive to that type of subject matter, cursing, some air of grand diosity,

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Characters: Chris, Seungmin

A/N: So a lot of people have been wondering what Chan has been thinking... Welp... You get what you wish for... even though it ain't pretty. I wanted to punch him writing it. This is after Chris gets banned from the hospital room. Since it is following him and not the reader, I decided to give it a different name, with the annotation being 7.5. Happy anger management people!

ALL THE SKZ IRL ARE CINNAMON ROLLS THIS IS A FICTION- IT'S FAKE.

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ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

BEFORE:

Han looked up at Bin, trying to will himself not to cry. The both of you are so sweet, so kind. He could see the weight on Bin’s shoulders, crushing him. He could see it in his head, Bin keeping everything bad from crashing on top of you, his arms outstretched, using his whole body as a shield. Han knew that if it meant keeping you safe, Bin would carry the world. That’s what separated Bin from Chris.

Both may be fond of you. Only one has ever put your safety over everything. Only one ever made you feel heard and seen. Only one ever made you laugh until you cried. Only one would take off work to take care of you when you’re sick. Only one made you understand that there is no priority above you. Only one would calm you with just a touch. Only one truly loves you with their heart and soul. That “only one” was in the bed with you right now.

Han watched, eventually just letting the tears fall as Bin held you saying, “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you, I’m sorry. I love you… I’m so sorry. Don’t leave me.”

That was the first time Changbin had ever let himself say it out loud, “I love you so much it hurts…I Can’t Lose You.”

NOW:

Chan’s POV:

I have never seen Y/N like that. A part of me wants to say that it was something that was a freak accident, that Soo and I were a freak accident. We weren’t. Y/N deserves to know that, to have it acknowledged. I want to scream that I regret it, that I want to take it all back, that I wanted to erase it all. That would be a lie.

You can’t regret something that you actually initiated. I don’t regret what I did. I wanted a release, I got a release. I wanted to feel exhilaration, I got it. What I am sorry for is getting caught. Of course I’d never say this out loud but, the truth is my marriage was a means to an end. She loves me, of course… and I love her… to an extent. I loved it when she would perk up when I came home, or be passed out on the couch, waiting for me to come home. In a lot of ways, Y/N is like a puppy. She would do all the tricks in the book to make me happy. If she was lucky, she’d get rewarded.

There is an even more fucked up part of me that is relieved that she knows. Sneaking around wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was making it look like I was with the boys when I wasn’t. Y/N is so close to the boys it was a pain in the ass, all it would’ve taken was one text and right there my cover would be blown. I know that I can come back from this, though. Soo never held a candle to my wife. I just told Soo whatever she wanted to hear. I made it worth it for her to do what she wanted… what we wanted, who am I kidding, I wanted it.

Everything is still so raw, she’s not really going to leave. I know she told me when we started dating, but I know that I can prove myself to her. She is the type to really believe that everyone is good inherently. It was something that I used to every advantage, if I’m honest. I’m obviously better than Changbin. I make more, I am more level headed… obviously… I am willing to do whatever I need to make sure I get what I want. How could she want anyone else? That’s like trading in a top of the line Ferrari for a beat up 1999 Taurus. Plus, she always gives people second chances. This is all one giant hiccup.

While the rest of the boys and I filed into the elevator, I heard her voice. She was so scared, I couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying, it was so meek, fragile… weak. That’s really the only downside to her. She is weak. Her emotions get the better of her always. Given, what happened would make anyone go crazy, but at the end of the day, she can’t keep control over her emotions. She is the type of person to read a room and follow the tone of the room. She isn’t a trendsetter, a leader. The only reason why the boys are the way that they are is because she is hurt. Something about their “white knight” complexes. Honestly I could puke just thinking about it. While they were playing games, painting, or just practicing on vocal technique, I was ensuring their continued employment. That will never change about her though. She folds under pressure. Like a skeleton with no spine. Sometimes it was exhausting, others amusing; that’s the biggest tell as to her coming back. She has no spine without me. She needs me… just like everyone else.

Knowing the woman Y/N is I knew that for her to be this way, she had to hurt so badly. It ripped my heart out, seeing her finding comfort in another person, almost as much as knowing that I was the one to do all of it to her. It made me look so bad, to everyone. Hearing Changbin call out to Han that she was slipping, I’ve never heard a voice like that before. I’ve never heard screams like hers. I should’ve never tested her, calling our child “it”. She has been trying so hard, comforting me non-stop, that it’ll happen when it’s meant to happen, that she’ll be on top of it. To let me know in the cutest way. Nothing’s more cute than finding out on your third anniversary that your family is going to get bigger.

It hurt me saying that, calling them “it”, that was exactly why I knew it would get the job done. I needed to peel her away from Changbin without touching her, but it worked a little too well. Why was I punsihing her, punishing them? I think the answer to that is simple. I don’t want the attention on me. Which is counterintuitive, given my natural tendencies. Right now, in this moment, I don’t want to be acknowledged. The way that they see me right now threatens everything I worked for, and it looks like everyone chose their side to stand on. Me giving them more of a chance to hate me is only going to make my job down the road harder.

I think some of the boys could tell. I am royally pissed. I got caught, which for one is annoying, but for all of them to take her side? That was infuriating. I spent so long honing them, training them. I always protected them, supported them. It is infuriating to have people that you did everything for to just dismiss you. Why were’nt they comforting me? That child was mine too. Why am I not getting any condolences? Hell, when we had no money to eat, I wouldn’t eat just so the 8 could have something… anything. The days I went to bed starving, the nights I worked around the clock to give them the opportunities that they now take advantage of.

This is how they repay me? Screaming at me left and right, Changbin threatening to kill me, even Felix turned his back. I just fucked a side piece… I mean I know what that caused is on me. That I was responsible for what happened to our child. If I could feel like I was attached I am sure I would’ve been a wreck. Something that was mine being taken away does that to a person like me. One thing is for sure, I truly never wanted to hurt her. I never wanted to look bad, hurting her would do that, and so I made sure to tread lightly, my go to’s being, “I know Baby, I’m sorry,” and “What time is it? Shit Baby I’m so sorry.”

That didn’t stop me to wanting to have my own little thing. My own little secret. It was a different type of high that I didn’t know I craved… needed. It’s no doubt that Soo did feel better in bed. I could tell she knew what she was doing. Y/N had no experience before me and that did a wonder for my corruption kink, but after that… It was like pulling teeth. I had to teach her everything, so every time we we’d sleep together I had to act like I liked the fact that she’s so innocent. Which I do, but I also don’t want to have to have a health class every time I wanted to have sex. Soo wasn’t like that. She knew what she was doing. Hmmm… maybe I’ll clean up the house and finish what we started.

In the elevator, no one wanted to say anything. I didn’t want to say anything either, I didn’t want to make anything worse than it is. It’s a unique empty feeling. Y/N would look at me like I hung the moon itself. The feelings that she gave me, I was seen, heard, and loved. Constantly reassured. I can’t live without that validation. The minute I walked out of the elevator I didn’t even look back, all I said was “Take care of her. Do what I didn’t, she needs you. Call me if you need anything.” That made me feel a little better, giving them an order, felt like the last say in a way.

It was Seungmin’s voice that cut through, I heard him stop the elevator with is arm, “That was never a question, we’ve always taken care of her, don’t wait up. We all know you’re not used to being the one waiting for someone. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” My lip upticked at his comment. Mostly because I didn’t imagine Seungmin to have balls like that and another was that I didn’t have a rebuttal. I always have a rebuttal. He’s right though, I always kept her waiting, not the other way around. It always made me feel important, that she needed me to go to bed well, that she craved to feel me.Yet now I find myself willing to wait an eternity if it meant being able to hold her one more time, to have her cook for me, then to cuddle up and pass out together, all of that shit I see as a waste of time. To think I hate needing someone yet here I am, needing her.

I kept walking after I heard the elevator close. By the time I made it to the car I was trying my hardest not to collapse. My wife was in that hospital, fighting for her life, after I caused her to miscarry, a baby we have been wanting since our first anniversary. I am enraged. I’ve never felt so out of control and it’s driving me crazy. I am always in control. That is the only way that I function. It is something that I pride myself on. Now everything is out of place everyone stepped out of line. All I have to do is get them back in their rightful place… Then we can move on.

I’ve never imagined anyone else as the mother of my children, she is giving enough to focus on them while I work on my career. It’s always been Y/N. That thought was the one that made me slam my door a little too hard. She’s going to come back, she’ll be back. She will have my child, we will be happy… When everyone is in their place.

I tried to distract myself as I went home. It felt like an out of body experience, seeing myself in the rearview mirror, hating the person I saw, just for the sole fact of getting caught. It was such a rookie move. I should’ve known that there was something going on when everyone said they were out for the night. No matter how loud I made the radio, I heard noting but her screams. I wanted to blame someone, get the pain as far away from me as possible, trying to make me out to be the good one. I’m not. The only things I’m good at are music and acting. I could still see the little glances she’d give me, convincing herself that I am just busy. She is so trusting, it honestly baffles me. Just another sign that she’s weak.

I wanted to make it her fault. She shouldn’t be so naive. Seeing Soo disappearing at the same time I am? The way that I couldn’t really look her in the eye for most of last month? She should’ve told me sooner. Maybe if she did that our child would still be here. That’s not even including how I’ve had to keep Soo on a shorter leash than anyone, her face gives so much away. The first time she hung out with us I had to take her to another room and tell her to get it together because she almost started crying in front of Y/N. I know that people will say that’s not fair, What part about anything that I’ve done screamed ‘oh this is reasonable’? None. It’s been so long I’ve been doing this that I don’t even remember how all of this started. Ah I remember now.

I guess a year ago it started off with me venting to Soo. I didn’t know why we weren’t conceiving. We timed out the cycles, we did everything correctly, but still it wasn’t happening. If I told the boys I know I would look weaker for it and I didn’t want Y/N to be even more stressed about getting pregnant. Soo validated my feelings and told me that she was always there for me. That was the first mistake. I should’ve gone to Y/N. After a while it went from talking when I was aggravated to talking daily.

I looked forward to those calls so badly. It felt like a little interaction that was all mine. Making her laugh made me feel like when I used to get Y/N to laugh. The butterflies came soon after that, seeing that I got a form of attention I didn’t realize I was missing. About two months ago she told me that she was seeing me as “not just my friends husband”. That made my heart leap in my chest. I should’ve avoided her like the plague after that, I should’ve gone to my wife, but not only would that make her mad, it’d also make sneaking around harder. I did something worse.

“Good to know it’s not one sided.” I felt the words drip out of my mouth, even recounting it makes me a little excited. I turn onto my street and I heard Soo’s voice in my head, “Chris...” I knew it was wrong, I fucking knew it was, “I know. I know it’s wrong.” Then hearing her say, “What if she finds out?” with a giggle. “We’ll be discreet.”

We met up that night. I wanted to scrub myself head to toe, till my skin bled, making sure her scent was gone completely. It was so thrilling, so different, and I hated that I liked it. I liked it so much I knew I had to do it again, and soon too. Every time I came home Y/N was either passed out on the couch or in our bed. Notes left on the counter full of how much she loves me. I still remember the first one from that same night, “I know how forgetful you get in the studio, made extra of your favorite, it’s in the fridge, missed you-XOXO Y/N/N.” I looked at her form on the couch, clearly trying to stay up to see me. I ran to the bathroom to vomit, it made me anxious. I knew that I was playing with a downgraded version of my wife. If anything went wrong, I’d be left with the dollar store version of Y/N. For some reason that anxiety turned to exhiliration. The longer it went on for, the more comfortable I got of having my cake and eating it too.

She never did anything wrong. I asked for space, she gave me space. I asked for anything and she would do it in a heartbeat. She always wanted me happy and stress free. After a while I made it okay in my head by saying that she wants me to be happy and having both make me happy so it’s okay. I know better, I always knew better.

I always got up too early, that way I didn’t afford myself time to see the person that I love in one of my favorite ways to see her, happy and sleeping. The last few days I gave myself that. Feeling the guilt eat me alive, rightfully so. I felt guilty for putting all of this on the line, putting her on the line, not for her, but what losing her means to me. I’d practice my apology while she slept, “I’m so sorry, I love you.”

If it wasn’t for the boys being there, I could’ve had a better handle on her. I could’ve reiterated that practiced apology over and over. I could’ve kept the control I spent years making, which is really the most fucked up thing about all of this. I was in training for almost 10 fucking years, I finally get the perfect group of people who followed perfectly without question. Then Changbin goes ahead and goes soft for Y/N. She’s gorgeous, I know, she’s funny, and kind, but she was also making Bin step out of line a bit. Every time she was around, he would try to take point, try to be the center of attention. At first I thought that it was Bin trying to be cute. When he asked me how he could ask her out a few months after this started, I felt my stomach drop. She threatened everything I worked for. So I spewed some bullshit to make him question himself a bit more while I figured out what to do.

Some wouldn’t see this as a problem. I am not some. I only let my members have center because I permitted it. If I threw myself in the spotlight always, it would look off. So I made myself into the best, most supportive leader, the leader of the 4th generation, how can you get bigger than that? The perfect wife… Y/N. It was perfect, if I had her, not only would I have more control over Bin, but I’d also have the perfect little family one day. That was when I decided to ask her out after getting her separated enough from Bin. Which wasn’t too hard. There were some unseen snags but overall it was easy. Keeping her is going to be just as easy. When she’s healed. Then everyone will fall back in line.

I pull in to my driveway and go to the door. Once I opened up the door, Bins clothes covered in blood were there, taunting me. I walked further into the house, I looked on the mantle, the picture from our wedding hung there. I remember that day, that gorgeous day. I threw it away. That woman with the most infectious smiles, the woman who’d hold me so close during horror movies. I found myself grabbing that picture, I dragged my finger over her face. I heard her voice, “I love you”, and I collapsed on the floor, right next to the clothes, sobbing, clutching the photo. She was so perfect.

I got so mad at that point. I shouldn’t be crying, SHE ISN’T LEAVING ME. I can fix her just like I fixed everything else around me. My perfect wife, My perfect group, MINE.

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#bangchan #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan x reader #Seungmin #kim seungmin #stray kids imagine #stray kids #stray kids angst #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz #skz angst #skz scenarios #skz x you #stray kids x reader #I wanna punch him #try this shit on me I dare you #narcissistic personality disorder

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darkbluekies · 10 months

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The Hedwig diaries: I want to kill

Warnings: mentions of wanting to kill, yandere, jealousy, obsession

Dear diary, I want to kill and you have to believe it's more than just selfish reasons. I don't know what else to do. I respect everyone, why can't they respect me? Why does no one think that my relationship is serious? I love Y/N more than anything else in this entire world! Am I the only one seeing that? Certainly not, right?

Someone tried to approach them today in the cafeteria. I could see in an instant that he had no good intentions. I've tried to get Y/N to ditch the grotesque cafeteria food, but they won't hear me out … I can't for the life of me understand why. I've told them that I can get my chef to make lunchboxes for us both, but they squirm when I'm trying. I think it's because of what others will think. Y/N wants to blend in and not stand out. Being with me only complicates that. They told me once that if they would start eating food from my house, they'd stand out even more — people might even think they're a gold digger, that they're using me. I know Y/N, I know they're not. Why do they have to care what others think so badly?

Anyways, this person who talked to my love finally admitted his defeat when Y/N told him to go away. I hugged their arm and they told me that it was okay. They could sense that I got uncomfortable. Bless their wonderful soul. But it wasn't okay. How could anything be okay when someone had just tried to steal my partner in front of me?! As if it didn't even matter?!

I tried not to sulk for the rest of the day, but there was a nagging feeling that I couldn't shake off. Although that person had stepped away, the audacity of them to ask in the first place made me furious and I knew that I wouldn't be able to relax as long as they were around. As long as they breathe. It still makes my blood boil writing now.

"Can I do something to cheer you up?" Y/N asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

Y/N? Do something wrong? How could they ever think such nonsense?! I could tell how worried they were and I instantly felt bad that my horrible mood spilled over to them — to the point where they had started blaming themselves. I kissed them and I hope that was enough to reassure them that they were the most non-wrong thing in my life. Plus, I bought them a juice box from the vending machine to make them happy. They did smile a bit afterwards ♡

Y/N is sleeping right now. They look so sweet, I wish I could keep this moment forever. I've taken countless photos … but I want more. Photos and videos aren't enough. I want to freeze this time and stay here forever. I want to be this moment, as crazy as it may sound. I'm going to bed soon too, but I had to get this out of me or else I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I've never been so furious before. I've never wanted to kill before. I've never liked horror or gore of any kind, but when it comes to Y/N … then it just feels like the only solution. I don't want anyone to look at them the way I do. I don't like it when others capture their precious time. It makes my skin crawl.

I'm going to put down the pen and join my dearest. I’m exhausted after this stressful day. I’m going to ask Y/N if they want to go to the spa tomorrow to relax.

Yours truly,

Hedwig

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere fics #yandere oc x you #yandere stories #yandere oc x reader #yandere rich girl #yandere female #yandere oneshots

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phantasmagoria-in-neverland · 2 years

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The Mandalorian Soulmate AU: You can only see colour once you look into your soulmate's eyes for the first time.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Reader

Genre: Very slight Angst, Fluff.

A⁄N: I wrote this entire piece at like, four in the morning, so please excuse me for any possible mistakes. Also, this has very little dialogue, and it is mostly just Din being a complete fool in love. It's not exactly my usual writing style but it came out this way and I will accept my child as it is. Jokes aside, enjoy!

Din Djarin had accepted from the moment he put on his helmet for the first time, the lonely life awaiting him. Or so he has tried to tell himself, for so long now, that maybe he has started to believe it.

He can't remember much from his younger years, back when he still had his parents, but one thing has always stuck with him: they were soulmates.

Even now, after so many years, now that he has forgotten his father's face and the feeling of his mother's embrace, he can still remember the way they had loved each other. Can still remember the way they never failed to describe colours to him; The way that his eyes are brown like his hair, like the trunk of a tree and the earth when there's no grass to cover it. The way he had always been drawn to green things, unknowingly, as if he found comfort in a colour that was just another shade of grey.

He can still remember what it truly means to find your other half.

The Universe gives and takes, being found and raised as a Mandalorian was a blessing, one he still isn't sure he deserves, one he will never be able to repay. But for it, he's had to make a simple sacrifice: renounce to his soulmate.

With the Mandalorian way, came the helmet, and the inability to look anybody directly in the eyes.

Throughout his life, especially when he was younger, he cursed more than once the visor covering his stare. A couple of times, back then, he had even thought he had found "the one".

It never worked out for long.

Sometimes, Din still wanders if they just weren't meant to be, or if they were, but the uncertainty, the never really knowing drove them away. If he messed up his happy ending with his own hands.

The Universe has a way to bring the two halves of one soul together, everyone tells him, more often than not in just a fleeting moment.

He wanders, on those rare occasions when he is too tired to stop his mind from torturing him, if he hasn't already met them someway else. He is old now, older than he's ever thought he'd have the chance to be, surely he must have crossed eyes with them by now. Maybe on some far away planet, at a busy market or a rowdy cantina, locking eyes for only a second, a second meant to colour their worlds and complete their existences. He would never know.

He feels sorry for whoever had the displeasure of sharing a soul with him, for whoever he has doomed to bare loneliness because of his own choices. Sometimes, rarely, he takes pity on himself too, he attempts to make the guilt more bearable. They could still find someone to be happy with, someone who isn't him and his destructive lifestyle.

Not everyone meets their soulmate, he reasons, he has encountered some of them, and they were still leading fulfilling lives. He knows you aren't dead, his world would be pitch-black if you were, and he is glad for that mercy everyday.

On the occasions when he returns to the covert, he feels slightly more at ease, can keep his mind off of you for longer. His people are on the same boat as him, and he isn't alone, not in his sorrows at least.

Most of them can't see colours, he does his best to avoid the few who can. Din had asked one of them, back when he still had hope, how they'd done it. They told him they had taken the risk, so it is known, told him they were so utterly sure to have found their half that they had lifted their helmet and taken the chance.

Your soulmate is allowed to see your face, he remembers. He never asked again after that, sure all the answers would be close to the same, and sure that he would never be able to take the risk.

So yes, he has done his absolute best to believe he has accepted it. It didn't bother him, he would swear it didn't, would lie through his teeth and get away with it.

Until the moment Din met Grogu. Until the moment he found his son. And he was more than aware that it would only be a matter of time until he wouldn't be able to fight the visceral need to find you any longer.

But until then, the company of his child was more than enough, even if temporary, like all the sense of belonging in his life.

Home for him has never been forever, and Din accepted his fate in the ways he could, if he can't stop the bleeding in his heart, then he can at least embrace it. Gone are the green clothes and the strange feeling of comfort they brought, replaced by the shining grey Beskar he leaves unpainted and black underclothes that conceal every part of his skin. He can see grey and he can see black, which means he can at least see himself in the same way everybody else can; even those more fortunate than him.

The Razor Crest, his ship- he has to bite back the word 'home' every time and he hates it- is grey as well, even on the inside. In a way that makes it feel cold, inhospitable, he has been told, he believes it fitting.

They are small mercies, ways he has developed to keep his mind off of the longing. He is not meant for nice, warm, homely things.

But the child is.

A child that is green, which is quite unusual, even he would know.

Grogu is dressed in a beige tunic, sleeps covered in a red blanket and his toys are all brightly coloured. Din doubts he knows, or cares, but it makes him rest easier knowing that he can provide at least something good for him.

You enter the picture not long after, by chance. He hadn't been looking to expand his crew, his job was easier with no one to worry about but himself. He had considered a few times the idea of hiring a mechanic, but when the only one in danger was him, it came easy to dismiss the thought. But then his priorities changed, thrown upside down by the need to protect the most precious thing he could ever have: his clan. He could take the risk, the child couldn't.

Every emergency landing now made his skin crawl, a red beeping light or a malfunctioning piece he doesn't know how to fix could send him into a panic, and how is he supposed to protect if he can't think.

So reluctantly, he started to keep an eye out for someone he could trust with something far more precious than his life. A lost cause really.

Until he found you.

He had just intended to stop at Peli's for a few quick repairs. Tatooine is an inhospitable, dangerous pit of a planet, but he trusts Peli enough to work on The Crest without having to worry afterwards, double checking things in a way he isn't used to. He needs that peace of mind, he can admit that to himself at least.

He is about to remind her of his 'no droids' policy, when she cuts him off, gesturing to a spot a little far behind her. And there you are, her new assistant. The way she praises your skills, although in her own way, is not something Din had thought her capable of. He'd be more surprised by it if he was actually listening.

You, as stunning as you look and as capable as you clearly are, were just another person. No one that should have kept the Mandalorian gazing obviously enough for Peli to notice, let alone for her to raise a brow at him as if she knows a secret he doesn't.

Then she whispers that you have yet to find your Soulmate, and Din's heart skips an involuntary beat. He remains silent, in an act of fake indifference he has mastered well, he pretends to avoid dignifying that insinuation with a response. In truth, he is not sure what to say, uncertain with his own brief fascination with you. Brief, because that's what it is. What it has to be, because he can't afford anything else.

He turns around after that, going to find a job to pay for the repairs, and Peli calls after him, tells him that you will look after the child while he is away. His heart skips another beat, he likes the sound of that. He wonders if he's getting sick, if that's why his body isn't working the way it should.

He doesn't dwell long on that.

When he comes back a day later, he is much more tired than when he left.

It's late at night and he is sure everyone will be asleep, except maybe the child, whose sleep schedule is almost as messed up as his own. He blames himself for that.

Still, he knows exactly what he wants to do, keeps dragging his body forward only because of it. He's going to see the child, cook for him and then maybe himself, and then he is going to shed all the beskar and collapse somewhere, possibly on his cot.

He shouldn't be this tired after a job, but he is more than aware that he has rushed it and himself to the point of cutting the estimated needed time in half, so he cuts himself some slack.

Din knows the child is safe with Peli, but the feeling that has been in his bones since landing here is heavy, foreboding, and he knows better than to ignore it. Whatever might happen must stay far away from his child, and it's that thought that pushes him forward.

Despite his expectations, you're the first thing he sees. You're still awake, Din can tell, even if your body is slumped on the ground and your head is leaning heavily against the wall behind it. Your eyes are closed and the expression on your face is so serene he hesitates to come closer. He has to retrieve his child, a child that, Din wants to shake his head off his shoulders for even thinking that, looks quite at home in your gentle embrace. It's the most relaxed he has seen him in a while.

So he makes an impulsive decision, he lightens his footsteps just enough for you to know he's approaching you without disturbing the quiet, and then, in what feels like both a second and an eternity, he's on the floor next to you. He doesn't know you, you don't know him, yet your shoulders are touching, and you're holding his son, and it feels like the Universe has just shifted into place.

You don't say anything that night, and neither does Din, but the three of you sleep together until Peli opens up the shop the next morning, a knowing smile on her face.

You can feel the Mandalorian jolt awake next to you, like he's taking the first breath of air after being underwater for too long.

What you don't know, is that he hasn't slept that peacefully or that long since he first put on his helmet, and he feels like he might have just died and woken up again. And maybe it's the best he's ever felt.

He doesn't have the time to dwell on it, because only a moment later the child wakes up with a coo and the growl of his stomach, and you're smiling at him. Smiling at Din.

He doesn't see you again for the rest of the morning, while you complete the last repairs for the Crest.

Nothing happened, or maybe everything did, but the sense of foreboding isn't half as strong as it had been, and it disappears completely when he asks you to join his crew that afternoon.

It has been months now, months since you came into his life, and he finds himself thinking of the day he met you far more often than he probably should. His fascination with you hasn't been brief, not at all, but it has been softened by the sense of peace you bring him. A sense of familiarity, of belonging that he is still terrified to explore.

You're always by his side now, and he struggles to remember a time when you weren't. When he didn't come home to you after a job, when your laughter didn't light up the entire ship and his life, when there was surely a you sized hole in his heart.

In a way, he came to regret hiring you. He was already struggling with accepting how much he cares for the child, how the need to keep him safe makes him second guess every choice that would have come easy once upon a time, how he is sure he would crumble if he ever were to lose him.

Din knows his clan is what gives his life meaning, and now that his family has started to include you too, he is terrified.

When he offered you a place on his ship, he was sure that no matter how mesmerising you were, he could manage to be normal about it. Now he knows he can't.

You're just his friend, yes, and yet somehow, you're so much more than that. He isn't sure how to deal with it.

But Din is a master at pretending he doesn't care, and when it keeps you from discovering how his heart hasn't seemed to function quite the same since he met you, he considers it a blessing.

Still, when he looks at him, Din knows his son knows something he doesn't, maybe in the same way Peli did.

He tries his best, as he always has, to keep his mind away from his soulmate. But his colourless world had never been able to taunt him in the same way it does now, when he runs his fingers through your hair without knowing what shade it is, when he watches how your eyes shine when you're looking at the child, or you're working on a project you like, or, and he feels like he is kidding himself even thinking it, when you look at him, and he doesn't know what colour they are.

It's his favourite shade, even without seeing it he knows nothing could ever compare.

Din has no way to express that to you, can't begin to find the words to even try. But when you look at him, with that look in your eyes that makes his knees buckle underneath him, he knows with striking clarity, that it's love he feels.

The day it all comes pouring out of him feels like any other. But you're there, and it's a constant reminder of what he is missing.

He owes it to you to try, for all the good you've brought into his life, that he could never begin to deserve.

If there is one thing that matters more than his creed it's his clan, it's your happiness, it's you.

And if he has to take the risk for it? Then Dank Farrik he has never been a coward, and deep down, there is no doubt in his mind that it is you.

"Cyar'ika." He starts, and it comes out heavy, dragged down by his insecurities. By the fear that maybe he's got it all wrong and you've never felt anything more than friendliness around him. He second guesses not doing this on a planet, somewhere beautiful where your first sight would be a breathtaking scenery; all Din wants to see is you and the child, in the comfort of the home you share.

But you turn around, and your expression betrays the worry you've already started to feel for him, and there is nothing else on his mind then, than the need to reassure you.

His hands, no matter how hard he tries, still shake slightly when he lifts them to the sides of his helmet.

Din's breath sounds shaky even with the help of the modulator, and the way your eyes widen lets him know that you've caught on to his intentions.

"Din-" The way you murmur his name feels like the beginning of a prayer, and he thinks that maybe the outcome doesn't really matter as long as you keep saying his name like that.

He knows there's other words stuck in your throat, that you're worried about him, that you're going to try to stop him. He can't let you do that.

The helmet comes off in one swift movement and newfound conviction.

And when he looks you in the eyes, there is a split second just before the world starts changing, in which his breath evens, his hands still, his heart calms, and he realises nothing else could ever feel as right as this, as right as you. The Universe would just have to accept that.

When the colours hit, Din doesn't blink, doesn't move his eyes from yours, no matter how disorienting it feels. He needs it to be the first colour he sees, the first one he commits to memory. Then his gaze moves to your hair, skin, lips, to the jumpsuit you always wear that he now knows is light green. He watches the way you blink, the way you look at him, the awe on your face. He is sure there is no first sight worth more than your smile.

You ran straight into his chest then, and his arms wrap around you without a second of hesitation.

Din doesn't realise how tightly he is holding you, until you giggle, your voice so full of emotion his head spins.

"I'm not going anywhere."

And Din has to chuckle at how easily you read him.

He opens his mouth to reply, but the only sound that comes out is a choked up thing. So he just stays quiet, and buries his face in the curve of your neck.

There are so many things he wants to tell you, so many things he wants to see, his son is in the other room and he can't wait to get to him. But you have all the time in the Universe, and for now, he just needs to hold you close and remind himself that you are real.

#phantasmagoria and storytelling 🥀#star wars #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #din djarin #mando x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din and grogu #gender neutral reader

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despairots · 4 months

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#A NIGHT TO REMEMBER, o. dazai!

a special oneshot!

description, it’s special to know how the other feels. to communicate is the best, though, dazai isn’t one for words but it’s fine, you’re the same. neither of you can put the feelings you have into words.

— story contains, angst, established relationship, swearing, suicide mentions, depressing talks, “no longer human” connections i think?, r! psychoanalysis’s i guess?, mental health, trauma talking, character deaths, if i missed anything let me know! gender neutral! reader.

“why are you writing this?” bc dazai is one of the characters i heavily relate to on another level. hes so much different from mizuki akiyama and satoru gojo. and this is just me talking a lot about dazai’s character and analyzing him… btw, r! wears a black blazer (or leather jacket) white button up with a black waist coat, either brown shorts or pants (maybe black of u want), underneath the shorts or pants are like black tights and slip on penny loafers.

long before you started dating dazai, there was an obvious connection that you only saw and felt. obviously, you were friends during those time periods because you worked in the same place, everyone there were friends.

though, the friendship you two had were entirely different from the rest, had the same humour but showing it differently. you wouldn’t lie and say that dazai flirting with you just to ask for a double suicide didn’t concern you, because it did. there’s no doubt that he’ll try and eventually succeed (although, death doesn’t accept him).

there’s nothing that can kill this man, no matter how hard he tries. you picked that up during one of his failed attempts, it almost succeeded if kunikida wasn’t there, you thanked him a ton. all he said in response is that; “i have to look over that idiot one way or another.” no matter how much dazai annoys his coworkers, they still care.

when dazai tries to commit and somewhat fails, it’s almost like he’s punishing himself for still being alive. you know his past, after all, you were in port mafia with him, even though you two didn’t work together or how he didn’t know you during that time, you sure knew him.

he was surrounded by death, in the port mafia and the ada, it follows him yet never accepts it’s his time to come to the afterlife. he makes these plans that somewhat end up succeeding though he hurts himself in the process, always worrying you. what if eventually death actually accepts him at some point?

dazai has been extraordinarily smart every since he was a kid to the point where he’s been dehumanized by dubbing him; “the demon prodigy”. you didn’t know anything about his parents, you did know what drove him to be tired of living. he’s tired living, bored by life and the people around him, to him, they are easily predictable and manipulated that nothing can surprise him.

he can’t find sense to the world but most importantly, he doesn’t find sense in life, he ends up reverting to extensional depression, continuing the cycle he lives in.

dazai has been exploited ever since he was 14 and taken into the port mafia by mori. he was kept alive by mori, by chuuya, by everyone. he was used until there was nothing left. he never had any love nor hope (that he’d ever have someone to understand him) until a friend he later brought up to you, oda.

he truly believed he deserved everything that happened to him in the port mafia.

you believe that younger dazai never believed that he could be better, but if he’s changing now than he always had the ability to change, just never tried. he was sure the mafia was the only fate he had and the only place to escape of living.

then oda died. dazai was free, with ango’s help of wiping his criminal records. without ango’s help, he would’ve never been free from mafia, though he knows his past will always haunt him, he’s accepted that. he also knows that his indebted to ango, he knows he owes him.

since oda’s death, dazai’s trust had ran thin and he’s always on guard, his ability to open up to anyone had been cut off because he can not lose anyone again. the things he cares about and didn’t wanna lose, is lost the moment he gains it.

his plans always evolve other people, rather to manipulate or exploit. you don’t blame him, if it meant surviving, you would do it too.

he is someone who jokes but never opens up nor can be his true self. he’s a wreck who will drag anyone else down with him, that was a price you had to pay for dating him. he repulsed the idea of love and being in a relationship with you because of how he’ll be afraid of losing you.

dazai dated you as a joke, to see how thing will end, until he realized that you were somewhat different. you were always one step of ahead, had almost the same ability that involved contact, and you had this missing glint in your eyes. that’s just the surface though.

dazai knows there’s more to you— he doesn’t know about your connections to the port mafia though— but he doesn’t bother bringing the topic up to you though nor does he like talking about it.

at nights like this, where he’s staring aimlessly somewhere and devoid of emotion, he’s completely vulnerable in your shared dorm. sitting on the couch, cheek on the palm of his hand as the other searches the cold touch of your hand, seeking for some company.

—and you’re there. sitting on the couch with him and a book discarded in your lap, only staring at dazai with a look of curiosity and content, he looks peaceful despite the war going on in his head.

(you were memorized by the destruction he creates and has, it was peaceful to know what beautiful destruction that dazai carries with him).

when dazai feels the cold skin of your hand, he could feel his ability cancelling yours out as your hand covers his, holding it tightly yet so soft that he wonders if you’re even there. dazai finally looks at you, face still devoid of emotion, watching you reopen your book.

“morning, sleeping beauty.” you hummed softly, an amused tone with your words. dazai groaned and knocked your book off your lap, kicking his legs up into your lap and laying down, now staring up at the ceiling.

hearing dazai go silent wasn’t rare, it was rather common when you two are in your shared dorm, but not hearing him say something stupid back confused you.

you turned your head to dazai, taking notice of his eyes that threatened to pour tears in front of you, “you okay, ‘samu?” knowing him for a while now, he wouldn’t open up and talk about his feelings. it’s fine though, you’re like that too, and you wouldn’t mind waiting forever even if it didn’t come.

dazai didn’t respond.

he never did.

he closed his eyes and if you listened closer, you could hear the shaky breath that he exhaled. taking his hand in yours, you placed a chaste kiss to his palm, the contact making dazai open his eyes slowly and sit up on his elbows.

“when are you gonna leave?” he’s says stupid shit all the time, it doesn’t effect you, none of his words effect you. it should’ve effected you but it didn’t, and dazai could tell by the unamused look on your face, “when are you gonna take your life seriously?” you lightly jabbed at him, hearing him scoff and mutter ‘hypocrite’ underneath his breath.

dazai sat up properly, scooting closer to you and grabbing your hand, setting his head on your shoulder. dazai’s touch starved but refuses any contact that doesn’t involve him initiating it, you’re an expectation, you’ve always been every since the relationship started.

silence took over you, the fan in the background aswell as dazai’s calming breath stirring you into a tired state, laying your head on dazai’s head (knowing the neck pain wouldn’t be worth it tomorrow).

“y’know i’d wait, right?” dazai hums underneath his breath as a response, “how do i know you’re not lying?” and you scoff. rolling your tired eyes, for a guy like him to ask you that question is amusing. “we’ve been lying to eachother for a while but i’m not lying about this, ‘samu.”

the former executive makes himself more comfortable in the crook of your neck, forcing you to lay down and keep him close, “i know.” the words came out muffled, and alas, his eyes are shut again and his sleeping in your arms that are now warm.

with him being asleep, you could pick out the smallest details about the boy in your arms. in your arms, he isn’t the former demon prodigy, in your arms, he isn’t a former port mafia member, in your arms, he isn’t a dehumanized person.

he’s just a boy.

osamu dazai isn’t one for words, but it’s okay, because you’re not one for words either. it’s gonna be like that for awhile, or forever, only time could tell. dazai knows this; you know this. and since dazai’s betrayal to the port mafia, he’s changing, but if he’s changing now, he was always capable of changing, he just never cared enough to try.

osamu dazai isn’t one for words, neither are you.

tick.

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grapejuicestyless · 8 months

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conrad and fem!reader were bestfriends growing up but they were always in love. (reader is a conklin) they were both in love but they were both so oblivious to each others love (Susannah always knew hehe) I was thinking this could be inspired by ‘back to you’ by selena gomez

basically when susannah dies conrad lashes out on yn and says like the worst thing you can think of but then tries to kiss her and yn is so freaked out that they don’t see each other for years. After yn finishes college everyone reunites at the summer house and Conrad and yn finally realize what’s been right in front of them.

i know this is a lot but your writing is so beautiful especially with Conrad. thank u <3 🙏🏻

Back To You

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Angst to fluff

Summery: The request above^^^ I tried to stay as close to what was requested I hope this is okay! <3

The waves hit the wooden poles underneath our feet in a soft pattern. The thrashing of them shaking the dock just enough that you could feel it rocking. It was calming, breaking the silence that settled between my oldest son and I. Conrad had been off all spring, part of me connected it to his old ex girlfriend breaking it off with him, but that was just what I told myself because the thought that Conrad knew what was going on, something I swore I would keep hidden until it had to be know, made me sick with guilt. How my condition was weighing him down.

I took him out to the old dock just for one on one time. He used to love it out here at night. The way the stars illuminated the sky in their different patterns, the way even with them shifting, the constellations always found their way to stick together in the sky for a few weeks at a time. He loved the feeling of the damp wooden bench beneath his legs and how close we could cuddle up out here. He always loved it just being us.

“What’s going on, Connie?” My words were soft, in no way pushing him to open up any fresh wounds. He seemed wound up, his light dampened. I wanted to figure it out, I wanted to help him. The Conklin’s would be down here by morning and I worried that if left unresolved, it could bubble into a mess.

“Hm?” He acted confused, completely unaware to what I meant. I knew my son better than that though. He was always far too smart to play dumb.

“What’s got you down?” I put on my best smile, trying to squint my eyes to make them as welcoming as I could. My Conrad was never the most open with his feelings. He hated to be vulnerable. He told me once when he was younger that he felt if he was ever truly honest, the words would never be able to have been taken back. By saying things he didn’t say, by pushing people away, it gave him a good distance to build up the courage to make amends again. It gave him the time to choose when he was ready to open up his heart to whoever he wanted. He was always so conscious with things like that. Always thinking things through before doing them. It was funny how much a contrast he was with his feelings compared to Jeremiah. My spontaneous son who had no fears about regretting anything. Using his charm to get his way through life.

Laurel once joked that she believed Conrad’s eyes were so much darker because they held much more fear than Jeremiah’s. He was consumed by it. At the time we laughed, but now I was beginning to believe she was right. Here I was, preparing for a death nobody knew was coming and still, after nearly two decades of fighting and loving, I still was stuck at that distant arms length Conrad held me at.

He ignored the question, looking out to the sky. He knew he could’ve lied to me, could’ve made up something about his old heartbreak. How he was stressed with school. Anything to at least let me be able to give my support, even if it wasn’t in the areas he needed it. Conrad knew me like I knew him, though. Bound not only by blood but by love. There was no great excuse he could make that I wouldn’t pick up on. Mothers know everything, it’s our job.

My hands shook, partly from the cold and half from the disease working it’s way into my system. He shuttered sun my fingers wrapped around his, lips pressing to the back of his hand and my thumb smoothing over his skin to keep it stuck there.

“You don’t have to go through this alone, okay? When you feel like you need to say something, you don’t have to overthink it with me, okay? I’m your mom. I’ll love you no matter what’s going on in that mind of yours.” I saw the way his mouth twitched upward, a faltering smile so weak it was barely there. His eyes shinned in the moonlight, illuminated by the stars and the fireflies zipping by.

“Thank you, Mom.” He was honest then. I knew it by the way he said it. Like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He didn’t avoid my gaze, but held it firmly.

He crashed into me like one of the gentle waves into the dock. Arms wrapping around me in the biggest hug he’d given all year to me. His fingers dug into the back of my blouse, holding onto me for dead life in a way. He seemed desperate to be close to me.

A deep sigh left his nose, tickling the skin on my neck and down my back. I almost laughed at the feeling, but held it in to prolong the moment we were sharing. Soon, we would both be leaving whether we liked it or not, it was certain. I hoped that in the attempt to have one last perfect summer, Conrad and I could become closer. That we could all find a sense of happiness.

That sense came a few hours later. A wish being fulfilled without any extra begging. By now the moon was long gone, hiding beneath the horizon, the birds alive and singing. The children playing on nearby beaches and the whooshing of speeding cars passing the driveway.

Each part of the home was set up in the way I had hand picked it to be. My favorite flowers resting on the mantle and a bowl of the freshest fruits in the center of the kitchen countertops. The air was clean and crisp, blowing through the cracked window over the sink. It was cooling and refreshing, the outsides sounds seeping into the calm quiet of the house.

“They’re here!” My youngest shouted, heavy elephant feet stampeding down the stairs in pure excitement. I felt my own feet pick up from under me to jog outside. Summer was beginning.

The familiar silver car sat parked out by the bushes in the front, the engine still cooling and the sound of the car shutting off echoing through the area. The wheels moved from side to side, leaning closer to the ground to help give as the four missing pieces of Cousins announced their arrival.

Steven was the first to let his presence be known. His long, scrawny body stretching up after a long drive, an exaggerated groan becoming dragged out to truly emphasize how long their trip was. Jeremiah barely let him step away from the car before they were messing around, his arms wrapped around Steven in a welcoming hold. Their catching up was loud and joyful, jokes spewing off of their tongues without any extra effort.

Belly and Laurel came next, piling out of opposite sides of the car. Belly had occupied the passengers seat and Laurel the back right one. Both skipped the long stretch and made their way closer to their respected friends.

It was when Belly started making her way over to Jeremiah and Steven, giving an excited wave that I saw just how much she had changed. Her hair was longer, straighter. It fell just below her chest, shiny and thick. Her eyes seemed to sparkle brighter than last summer and her teeth had finally straightened enough to ditch the braces. It seemed like she was the center of attention for everyone because of these changes. Jeremiah swooning, hearts of eyes and Steven choosing to react in pure disgust, their playful teasing died down behind Laurels approaching voice.

“This has been a long time coming.” She sighed contently, arms already wrapping around me, feet in lifting from side to side to away smoothly. My hands rubbed along her back. She pulled away after a moment, observing the area, watching our kids. I saw her eyebrows furrow in confusion, almost like she was sad. I knew what it was.

Even in all this happiness, in all the reuniting and teasing, two very vital people remained missing. Y/n and Conrad.

While Belly and Jeremiah had an unbreakable bond that could carry any room, it never was really complete without Conrad and Y/n. To put it simply, even if Belly and Jeremiah were as great as they could be, Conrad and Y/n were the blueprint. They were the glue. No summer was truly starting until they were doing something irresponsible or stupid. One of them in a coughing fit, the other laughing themselves into one.

My lips drew themselves into a tight lipped smile, eyes finding the sky above. I swallowed. The words were in the tip of my tongue, the confession about what was happening with Conrad. What I believed was happening. I was getting ready to spill my guts about why Conrad wasn’t rushing out here. How he had been off all summer, and it was like he could hear me.

“Conrad!” The car door swung open so fast, I thought it might’ve snapped off with the force of it. It shook the car, slamming even harder than it had opened. The voice, still as sweet as I remember it being, belonged to Y/n.

She looked exasperated, hair a mess, cheeks flushed. Like she’d just woken up from a messy sleep. Her lips were bitten raw, and her shirt hung off her shoulder, unlike Belly’s that fit perfectly. But she was a ray of sunshine. She glowed like the brightest star in the sky. Her smile was infectious, spreading onto my best friend and I’s faces subconsciously. She truly captured the essence of pure happiness, the one I wanted so badly to feel this summer.

Heavy footsteps grew louder and louder behind me until a gust of wind was passed, the footsteps meeting their owner. Conrad, the moody, hurting boy who was completely shut away just hours ago was now running into the arms of his best friend. Of the girl he loved most.

They connected in the middle, the force of it making Y/n squeak. It didn’t stop them from tangling themselves up like they always seemed to do, Conrad’s back bent backwards and Y/n’s feet of the ground. They spun in circles, laughing the entire time. Even being limited to short glances at Conrad’s face while they spun, I could see the light in his face returning. The way his cheeks turned pinker and his eye bags seemed to get less heavy. He would never admit it, but it looked like he had gotten ready for her arrival. He no longer wore a plain grey zip up and old stained sweatpants. He wore Y/n’s favorite blue shirt he owned and matching shorts. She claimed he looked his best in that shirt because it fit him so well. Not too tight, but not too loose. He looked out together enough to go anywhere, but could remain comfortable. She’d even gone so far last summer to say it made him look handsome, something she confessed while drunk, clinging into her best friend and giggling under her breath.

I knew Conrad would never admit he chose the shirt just because he remembered that specific moment, but it was fairly obvious. At least to me. He always had the ability to pinpoint specific events, precise moments that involved something Y/n had done or said. He knew what she hated and what she loved. He put in more effort to make her see him than anyone else I’d ever known. It was endearing to see how much he cared for her.

More than that, it was like a storm had passed, Conrad’s grumpy attitude dissolving into one of pure sunshine and playfulness. He held no fear with her. Everything he did, everything he said, he knew it could be said with confidence. She was the one thing in this world he never felt ashamed to say what he needed to around. The only thing he never shared, his feelings. How he was so in love with her, his summers became dedicated solely to seeing her every second he could.

Secret sleepovers, long bonfire nights and early mornings on the beach. There was not more than a few hours that they weren’t together everyday. It was disappointing to see how he couldn’t share that, as Y/n so clearly felt the same for him.

Her eyes always looking for his face in a crowded room, her hands reaching out to feel he was there constantly. She needed him in more ways anyone could ever need a friend, she showed it, but they somehow always managed to shut down these feelings behind their insecurities of being wrong.

Jeremiah didn’t even get a chance to make his way over to talk with Y/n before she was being led away by his older brother, feet struggling to keep up behind him while he dragged her into the house. The thumping of their feet hitting the stairs sounded through the front door, their laughter and yelling echoing down the hall until his door slammed to a shut. I couldn’t help but laugh, Laurels own giggles stifled underneath mine. It was so obvious how much they cared for each other, yet so frustrating that they never acted on it.

The two of them always chased and chased, no aware that they were both aiming for the same thing. It was sweet to see puppy love like that. One so pure that they couldn’t even admit the feelings they so strongly felt for each other. Something they’d held since childhood, living in complete oblivion since.

The sun was high in the sky, a bright burning ball sizzling it’s mark into all of our skin. I could practically see Conrad’s shoulders peeling beneath its strong rays already. I had warned him to put on a rash guard, knowing he wouldn’t reapply. But he was so excited to catch up to Y/n, my words fell deaf on his ears. She was already out in the water with Belly and Steven, splashing around, laughter echoing as she grabbed what looked like mounds of wet sand from the bottom of the ocean to cover Belly with.

“Connie, you’re going to regret it later.” I had said, all to familiar with the distant sounds of his whining in the middle of the night. Conrad’s back sore and the aloe vera sticking to the warm sheets. But in that moment, the cringe worthy memory seemed to slip his mind as nothing was more important than getting to Y/n. He waved me off, promising to be careful but not really meaning it.

They were out there for hours that day. The waves were calm and the seaweed was relatively clear. The two of them, Y/n and Conrad, spent the perfect conditions submerged so deep into the water that when they reached land again, they complained how their legs felt like jelly. Conrads shoulders were bright red, torched by the beach day. I could see how they ached, just like I had said they would. Y/n’s cheeks and forehead were tinted a harsh red but she seemed completely unaware. Unbothered.

Conrad had pointed out how she had freckles on her face she didn’t have before. It was obvious how he thought she was beautiful, even then. I guess looking back on that memory, it was more clear that even at such a childish age, Conrad somehow always managed to pay the most attention to Y/n. Always the most observant of her tiniest details and mannerisms. Things he hadn’t even thought about in the others.

I didn’t let them sleep upstairs that night. I made sure to proclaim my love to them, but made it known I cherished my sleep more. Really, it was their own fault. Conrad had been warned to take precautions and those were blatantly ignored by the both of them.

I remember this day not because of how great the morning was, the summer breeze blowing in all its glory, but because of how the night had turned out to be.

The clocks hands were just passing the point that separated the late night and early morning. My blankets I had left for the kids spread across the large couch. The blankets were sticking to Conrads back and the aloe was rubbing off with each movement he made. I knew he was trying to muffle his whines, not wanting to be a bother, not wanting to wake his tired mother. I still heard it, and the rolling around became constant listening to the faint complaints from downstairs. It felt impossible to settle down at the time for Conrad, the soft melodic ticking of the kitchen clock only a reminder to how late the night was growing. Of how much time he had left before he was expected to be up and enjoying the day again. I remember feeling hopeless for him, he felt like crying.

It was the soft touch of fingers curling over his biceps carefully that pulled him from his descent into madness and silenced his cries. If it were anyone else, the sudden feeling of skin on skin would’ve scared him, sent him running upstairs into my arms like always. But the sensation was one he knew well. That and the shiny blue nail polish on her nails.

“Conrad, what’s wrong?” Her voice was soft, worrisome. It almost made him feel insecure, stupid in how he was getting ready to enter fourth grade and still couldn’t get over the ache of a stupid sunburn. Conrad should’ve felt pathetic, in his eyes. If it were Belly, or Steven or even Jere, he probably would’ve. But this was Y/n. His best friend! He knew he had nothing to be embarrassed about with her, she would never judge him.

“Is it your sunburn again?” She knew the answer, but always wanted to make sure. All it took was the slow nod of his head for her to lift herself off of the makeshift bed she’d made on the couch, the soft padding of her sock clad feet becoming more distant the farther she went into the house. In that moment, he felt confused, wondering if she was leaving him too. If his whining was even too much for her.

But, no. She came back with more aloe vera. A new bottle from the very back of the fridge. Conrad remembered how gentle she was when putting it on his back for him. It was feathery light, pressure changing depending on how severe the burn was. Even at such a young age, Y/n knew just what Conrad needed to make him feel better. It was like her sixth sense. Conrad had told me that morning, his heart couldn’t help but warm at that idea. That she had a special power just for him. He described it like waking up from a hazy dream.

A realization dawning on him after it had been forming for years. Y/n wasn’t just some girl Conrad enjoyed spending all my time with because she was simply just his best friend, but because deep down he loved her more than that. He knew he always felt something for her. Even when we were toddlers. The way she always shared with him, stuck by his side. At the time, Conrad acted annoyed by her presence, but he always secretly loved having her so close. He babbled about it in his sleep. He would slur how he felt safer, warmer, happier. Even his dumb little fourth grade self could see that those feelings weren’t ones someone had for a best friend. Those were feelings reserved for someone you loved. He knew then that he had always loved Y/n, now was just the first time he confronted those feelings.

When the sun rose, I was met with a goopy mess spilling all over the coffee table and a shiny back and Y/n’s wet hand. I could put the pieces together, but back then, Conrad made sure I didn’t have to.

That morning, while Y/n showered to get ready for the day, he went into depth about what had happened that led to the mess. How he felt, what was happening. At the time, I believed it was merely a small crush that he amounted to true love because he had never felt love before, but the longer I observed the pair, the more obvious it became that my little boy was in love with his best friend.

For Y/n, the day of realization came much later.

I remember the day clearly. Laurel and I had been insisting on a much needed a girls day, folding twenties into Conrad and Y/n’s palms and placing them in charge of the younger siblings of the bunch. Conrad being the oldest Fisher and Y/n the eldest Conklin, it wasn’t unusual that we would place our trust in them, tasking them with the job of keeping everyone in check for a day.

They’d decided to go to the boardwalk, the day too beautiful to not enjoy it. When arriving, the group had agreed to split up and conquer. Conrad would take Belly to the ring toss and Y/n would take Jeremiah and Steven to the go-karts. Everyone would meet back up in two hours for ice-cream and swap groups.

Y/n spent nearly all her money that day on those stupid go-karts. She’d only ridden them once, but Jeremiah and Steven kept begging to go again, again and again. Y/n was always such a softy, despite her confident exterior. Especially when it came to her younger friends. She couldn’t say no to them, they were just too convincing. When they met back up as a group, she complained, having a headache from the loud engines of the ride. She had eight dollars left in her pocket. Conrad had a large smile on his face and a polar bear named, Junior Mint, held loosely in his arms that he’d won after Belly begged him for it.

The looks on their faces made Y/n jealous, in a way. A feeling she knew shouldn’t be feeling when the situation involved her sister and her best friend. Two people she adored more than life itself. But Y/n, no matter how compassionate and understanding as she might be, like the rest of us, can’t control how we feel. We can only control how we reflect them.

“You have fun on the go-karts?” Conrad, who had somehow sensed her bad mood, had made race car sounds with his mouth, holding his arms out in front of him like he was turning a steering wheel in an attempt to lift it. Y/n’s hand hit his chest playfully, feet dragging along the wooden floor beneath their feet.

“The most.” She lied to him then, she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because she didn’t want him to feel bad for leaving her alone. She wanted him to be able to enjoy his day without having to worry about someone else.

When the time came to pay for their ice cream, it became apparent that the left over eight dollars would not be enough for three of the ice creams. Jeremiah and Steven insisted on getting the largest sizes possible, resulting in a grand total of almost the entire budget. Even if Y/n got a kiddy cup, she wouldn’t have enough to spend for a third cup.

Holding the money in her hands and looking back at the excited boys behind her, Y/n felt responsible to keep them that way. Happy. After all, she was the oldest. It was her job to look after them. To put their happiness above her own. She spent all her money on what they wanted that day, walking over to the table they’d picked over in the shade empty handed, disappointed in the lack of a cold treat to snack on after a long day.

Everyone was sat across from her, the table full of everyone except Conrad, who was ordering for him and Belly. Y/n’s hands became the most interesting thing to her for a brief period of time. The peeling paint on the table a good distraction from her two friends stuffing their faces with something she so desperately wanted.

“One vanilla ice cream cone for Belly!” She heard Conrad’s voice before I saw him. Her younger sisters eyes practically formed into hearts when he placed the dessert in front of her. He continued to announce the order.

“One mint chip for me and…” Conrad slipped a cup of mint chip ice cream in front of her next, the spoon lime green to match the melting treat below her.

“One for Y/n/n!” He sat beside Y/n then, mixing around the green ice cream until it turned into mush. Y/n lifted her eyes from the table to his face. It was stuffed with his own treat, a satisfied smirk directed towards his best friend. Y/n’s mouth was parted open, stuck like that for the longest time. It was only when Conrad had motioned at the ice cream that she realized it was still under the very hot sun, and melting more now.

With a silent whisper of a thank you, Y/n let the gift cool her down. It tasted sweeter knowing it was from Conrad, Y/n had confessed to me that night. Knowing that he cared enough to know how sad she would be to have been the only one without ice cream to finish off a fun afternoon.

He was always so sweet to her, always going out of his way to make sure she was included in everything. He didn’t have to, but he liked too. That’s what made Y/n like him the most. It didn’t matter what was happening, or who was involved. If Y/n was there, Conrad would be stuck to her side like glue, just like she was to him. He had some magic spell over her that no one else could even come close to.

Conrad always had a way to cheer her up, make Y/n feel like the most special person in the world. She never felt ashamed to be my most vulnerable self around him. He made her heart beat faster, her cheeks flush pink. He made Y/n feel pretty, wanted. More than that, Conrad never failed to give her butterflies.

These were all things she could connect with things someone could have with a best friend, someone close to them. She could convince myself as well as herself it was nothing more than that. Conrad was only a friend to her, but she couldn’t lie to herself anymore than she could lie to me.

Deep down, Y/n always knew she loved Conrad differently than everyone else. She could recognize his laugh anywhere, Y/n knew he had a lucky pair of socks and a least favorite pair of underwear. She knew he liked to part his hair down the middle, but how it trailed off to the left the further back it grew because he used to have a side part when he was younger. Y/n knew his glasses gave him a headache and how he didn’t really mind the feeling of sand stuck in his skin after a beach day. These were all things Y/n would’ve never given a second thought about with anyone else, but things her heart held onto like a prayer because it was Conrad.

Slowly but surely, she came to terms with my feelings developed for Conrad, ones I’d known about vaguely for years as the pair grew closer and closer each passing second since Conrad’s own revelations. Only, before, Y/n used to downplay them as a small crush. One she was developing because he was a boy and she was a teenage girl. She believed was supposed to feel like this, it would pass. But it wasn’t, and sometimes it felt to her like it never would. It grew more and more painfully obvious that Y/n’s feelings were so much more than that, and being in that moment then only solidified that fact. Y/n was in love with Conrad Fisher, her best friend, her world.

We were cuddled up on the couch when she talked to me about the day, the way her senses seemed to point overwhelmingly towards Conrad. I could’ve told her then that my son loved her just the same back, and maybe then they would’ve pulled together like a strong magnet, but I wanted them to find each other. They deserved to realize that through their own actions, not mine. So for years after that final confession, I sat here beside my own best friend wondering along with her when they would finally find each other.

“It’s cat and mouse with them every summer.” I sighed, holding my cup of coffee close to my chest. The warmth of the steam coming off of it warmed my skin in the cool July evening.

Laurel laughed beside me, her own mug clutched in her hands as well, we mirrored each other in looking out towards the back yard where Y/n and Conrad ran around in the grass with a deflated football. The smiles on their faces were vibrant, bright. Ones that only came out when they were together. They had that power over each other, to lift each other up. To make the others heart beat fast.

It was as clear as day what our oldest children felt for each other. No amount of deflections or excuses could hide the blush on their cheeks and the way their touches lingered for just a moment longer than friends should. They knew more about each other than anyone else because they cared too much to not know. It was pure and refreshing to see young love like this, even if neither of them knew what they had yet.

“When do you think they’ll realize what they have?” Laurel asked sincerely, her face turning to watch how my expression changed throughout my answer. She usually never played into my ideas, always being the more logical of the two of us, but this was the one thing we could agree on.

“With our luck, never.” We laughed, Laurels head falling to rest on my shoulder affectionately. We let out a synchronized sigh, allowing a beat of silence to pass.

“I’m sure they’ll find their way, they always do.” My hand rubbed my best friends arm in reassurance, my head settling on top of hers. I rested my weight on her, feeling more tired now that the day was ending.

It was almost comical, how ironic the entire situation was. The two oldest, smartest, strongest of the bunch, the ones who, other than Steven, had been the only ones to successfully apply and get into some of the top schools in the country, even with their brains, couldn’t figure out just how badly they wanted each other. Not even when it was dangled right in front of them.

I partially blamed myself. It was me who had ingrained the title, best friends, into their heads. With each time they were spotted together, with everything they set off to do together, I’d always stuck their names together with those two words. Even when it became more and more obvious that they were falling into each other in a way that crossed the line that divided platonic and romantic, it was always the two of them. The younger Laurel and Susannah. The next generation of best friends.

Conrad never managed to catch Y/n’s longing glances, and Y/n always seemed to just miss the way his hands held onto her in ways he didn’t with anyone else. He held her in ways best friends weren’t supposed to.

Lingering touches that mirrored her stares, fingers twitching, begging to be interlocked. Conrad spoke his feelings to her in acts of service, winning her prizes, helping her with her homework, reading to her when she had headaches, even when she was insufferable because she kept groaning. It was also in physical touch. His cologne practically stuck to her clothes permanently with all the excuses he could find to just touch her in one way or another. Y/n seemed to constantly be trying to relay the same in her own acts of service and physical touch. Holding the door, cooking him his favorite desserts without Conrad even asking, resting her head in his lap during movie night. Both slotting together to mesh perfectly, but their ignorance keeping them apart. If I were any less mature, I would’ve yelled at them to hurry up, I wouldn’t be here forever and I’d like to see my special kids happy before I went.

“What are you thinking about, Beck?” My own best friend asked softly, her head still under mine. I squeezed her arm, feeling sure that one day they would get together.

“How happy they’ll be once they realize what they have.” It went silent, but I knew my best friend. I could sense her tight lipped smile, eyes squinting and nose scrunching. He lifted her head from my shoulder slowly, her hand resting on my lower back.

“Why don’t we settle down for the night?” I wanted to fight her, I wanted to enjoy the calmness of the summer evening. The way our children were just what they needed to be, kids. No matter their age, still able to enjoy the simplicity that the summer home had to offer. But Laurel was right, I was feeling sluggish and if I didn’t rest soon, the couch would be my bed for the night. So I nodded, leaving the image of Y/n pinned under Conrad, his hands wiggling by her sides in an attempt to make her squirm and their laughter to be the last thing I would remember before I fell asleep.

“Con.” My voice was soft, the grass wet under our backs, dirt on our skin. He turned his head to face me, a lazy smile on his face. His eyes were all hazy, clouded by both tiredness and something unreadable that consumed his facial expression.

“Hm.” He hummed, eyes searching my face, lighting up when they settled on my own. I could feel the hair on his arms brush against mine, hands curled up, an indication of how close we truly were. Always just out of reach. My fingers twitched against the back of his hand, aching to be intertwined with his. My eyes flicked to his lips out of habit, breath hitching.

When I looked back to meet his eyes, I found the once playful look replaced with serious stare, burning straight into my head. He seemed stiff, nervous in a way. My cheeks flamed up in embarrassment. He must’ve seen the way I couldn’t pull my gaze from his lips. I breathed out.

“It’ll always be like this, right?” It wasn’t what I wanted to say, what I meant to ask. But in that moment, it was all I could manage. A simply vague question that held so much depth. I hoped he’d say yes, that we’d always be this close, not that we’d always be best friends. Selfishly, I hoped he said we would be more. That we could be so much more.

“You and me, always.” I felt the way his arm shifted from beside me, linking his own hands together over his chest and breathing out. He pulled his attention back to the sky, where the clouds moved faster than they did in June. The summer was ending.

“I wish it could be summer forever.” Feeling awkward being the only one to still be looking at him, I too turned to face the sky. Biting my lip, my eyes shut to imagine it was the beginning of the three wonderful months we had together.

I wished that I could have Conrad forever. That it wasn’t just some summer love that I would have to sit idly on as the seasons changed to a colder, more lonely winter. That Conrad and I could do all the things we always talked about over the phone together. Our cheeks would be rosy with the nip of the frosty weather and not because the sun had burnt us into a delirious mess. Groaning on the couch as we wasted our days away.

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder, Y/n/n.” He joked. Only, the way he said he sounded completely honest. Like he wasn’t joking. He said things like that a lot now. Things that were awfully romantic for someone who swore that we were platonic to all of our friends. It pulled in my heartstrings a little each time one of the phrases would slip. A source of joy for my daydreams to run on for the next few hours. If I were any more delusional, I would’ve told him how I felt about his jokes out loud. But I wasn’t, so I held them in. I let my heart face and my breathing quicken in silence.

“I hope you’ll be just as fond of me when you see me next, then.” I rolled to my side, countering his joke. I heard him laugh. My hands tucked under my head like a pillow and my legs bent at the knee. I made myself smaller next to him.

As our giggles died out, so did his interest in the clouds. He mirrored my position, hands under his head, legs bent up. Our knees touched, radiating a warmth that bounced between our body heat. My eyes were focused on him, but I was spacey. Thinking of just how long we’d be apart. It hurt my heart, I didn’t care if I would grow fonder of him. I didn’t think that was even possible with how much I loved him now.

“What’s running through that head if yours, Y/n/n.” His hand came up, pointer finger delicately tapping the top of my nose. I scrunched it under his touch, so light it tickled. My reaction made him smile again, even after his hand had returned back under his head.

“Thinking about how fondly I’ll think of you next June.” There were some things you just cannot speak about, can not share. I would never share what I was truly thinking about that day. How I was so stuck in my own feelings for him that I couldn’t even bare the thought of not having him beside me. That my heart deflated at just the mere mention of the winter because the only person I ever wanted to be around would be taken away from me.

Conrad’s laugh was weaker this time, smile fading into a smaller one but it was just as happy.

“I hope you’re already pretty fond of me, then.” I returned his smile then, the crinkle by my eyes moving a strand of hair into my face. It tickled my nose again, but I didn’t scrunch it. Too focused on Conrad so close to care.

Before I could respond, I felt the softness of his hand brushing across my face and tucking the strand behind my ear. He did it so gently, like I would break if he wasn’t.

“I am.” It came out breathy now that his touch was on me. He didn’t remove his hand from my face then. Instead, it felt more like he was molding his palm to fit my jawline. He cupped my face in his hand and just admired me. Eyes flickering around until they met my now moony gaze.

It was like some force was pulling us closer, then. Conrad’s face getting closer and closer, little by little. I couldn’t tell who was leaning in. It could’ve been me, but I was almost sure it was him. My eyelashes fluttered, fighting the instinct to close them. I heard how his breath hitched, I felt my own do the same. This was something I had always dreamed of happening, it felt unreal that now out of all times it would happen. I always dreamed of kissing Conrad in the beach, or the old dock where we used to play. Maybe even in the pool where we’d hold our fake Olympic competitions. But here we sat, on the grass, his breath fanning my face.

His head turned little by little, getting ready to connect our lips finally. The squeaky glass door slid open, and by some bad luck, it was enough to scare us into a more distant position. We sat up, now more than just inches away, searching the backyard for who had opened it.

Steven had been the culprit, having forgotten something on the small table outside. Looking beyond the pool, he found Conrad and I, red as can be, eyes wandering around and waved.

“I’ve been looking for you two! Belly wants to have one last movie night. Jeremiah’s making popcorn. Y/n, you’re on blanket duty!” He was completely oblivious to the tension between us. Of how my cheek, right where Conrad had been touching me was burning. How in my mind, it felt like he had left a mark with how hot it felt. I cleared my mind, shaking it off and looking to Conrad almost disappointedly.

To my surprise, he seemed perfectly fine, like nothing had just happened. He sprung to his feet, in fact, completely able to move on and ignore it. Maybe I had read it wrong. Maybe he wasn’t trying to kiss me. Of course I was, it would be stupid to believe that my best friend could really possess some sort of feelings for me. I had simply made it up, tricked my mind into believing it was true because I longed for him too much.

When his hands met mine to held me up, it felt like fire. Flames burning into my hands at how badly I wanted him. If he didn’t care, than I shouldn’t either. My stupid feelings shouldn’t weight down the last hours we’d spend together. It shouldn’t dictate how the last night will go.

I put on a brave smile, sticking a bandaid over the wound over my heart. I bled out on the couch, all over anyone near me. My smile false, heart heavy. I forced myself to forget it and as the movie grew longer and longer, it left my mind completely. Eyebrows feeling lighter, the burning in my throat releasing itself into a soothing sensation. It would be my last memory of the summer that truly stuck. How close I had gotten to Conrad, and how quickly he had slipped away. How wrong I was about how he felt. How hurt I was for believing it could be different.

What I didn’t know then was how he felt the same. How his mind was swirling with the what if’s and the same disappointment I felt. How my fake smile had tricked him into believing it meant nothing to me, like I didn’t understand the weight of the situation at all. He didn’t know how I was breaking inside at how he didn’t seem to care, because he was feeling the same. My own act was tricking him, allowing Conrad to believe just what I thought of him. That I did not care for him like he did with me. That his feelings weren’t reciprocated. It was a dance between us. Chasing in a circle to get the other attention, to figure out what was happening between us. Completely unaware that if we would just turn around, we’d find what we do desperately longed for. The other chasing the same thing. We let the incident go by the morning, pretending that whatever happened was all a dream. And just like that, we were what we had always been. Best friends.

The news came early in the morning. The sun hadn’t fully crossed the horizon yet and there was still dew on the lawn. I was alone then, away at college. The constant calls from my mother waking me up. But it was the one from Conrad that I answered somehow.

“Hello?” My voice was full of sleep, confused as to why my mom was calling me so early. I had an eight am that morning, I had my alarms set. It was all so confusing, hazy.

“Y/n.” His voice was shaky, weak. It woke me up quickly. Conrad was never like this, at least not over the phone. Occasionally he would breakdown around me. The tears always stung. So full of emotion, so overwhelmed to the point he couldn’t keep it together. All it took was someone to ask if he was really okay to tip him over the edge. To open the flood gates. It only happened at the worst of times, it was alarming that it was happening now.

“Conrad, are you okay? What happened?” I knew something bad had to have happened. This wasn’t simply just him calling because of how much he missed me. Those calls came later at night on FaceTime, his voice light and playful each time. This was heavy, I couldn’t see him, he was hiding behind the phone call. I knew it had to be bad, already packing a bag as he spoke. The phone was pressed to my ear by my shoulder and head, I worked on stuffing as much of my clothes in as possible. I made sure to scribble a note down to let my roommate know I was leaving and would be back in a few days.

“It’s my mom.” The world stopped in that moment. I knew I had to get to him even quicker now, I knew he needed me to talk to him, to walk him through his grief but the news was so heavy, my hands stopped working. I froze, unable to do anything but pray that it was some sick prank.

“What?” It came quiet, I wasn’t sure if he even heard me. She wasn’t my mom by birth, I didn’t carry the same relationship to her as Conrad did. I didn’t see her everyday for hours, but in some way she was my second mother. She taught me to ride a bike, how to bake a cake. I learned how to read from her, her name was the first word out of my mouth. She was the grounding in my life. The one person I trusted to share everything because it was likely she’d already been through it. She understood like a mother, helped me grow as one. Her death would leave an empty hole in my heart for eternity, I was sure.

I heard Conrad take a shaky breath, holding it while he tried to piece together what he had to say. What I deserved to know.

“It happened this morning, just an hour ago. I wasn’t going to call so soon but, I thought you deserved to know. She was special to you, so…” He tried to keep it together, I could feel it. I could hear it. How his breaths caught in his throat, the quiet stutter beneath his words.

“Conrad, I…” In looking for all the words I wanted to say, to tell him it would be okay with, I came up short. Unable to make some sense as to what was happen.

“You don’t have to say anything. We all knew it was coming soon.” He dismissed my struggle, knowing that if it were hitting this hard on his end, he could imagine that I wouldn’t take it very week either.

“Yes but Con, that doesn’t make it any better.” I ran a hand through my hair, placing the phone tightly between my shoulder blade and my ear. I began to pack again.

“Do you need me to come down to Boston?” I would’ve come down on my own, would’ve held him like a brother, protected him from the world, the reality of it all. But it was a delicate situation. I had to walk on eggshells, unsure of what was best. I had never lost a relative before, never endured the pain of not having a mother. Never seeing her again like how the Fisher brothers just had. I didn’t know if it was best to stay or go.

“No, no.” Though it sounded like he was lying, like part of him wanted me to just be there, his words were firm, exhausted. If he wanted me there, I would come, but I would not intrude when times were so tough.

The line went quiet for a moment, I can still hear the static ringing through my head even now. How the line went just as quiet as the dorms when everyone was asleep. I could feel the hot liquid trailing down my cheeks, the tightening of my chest becoming more rapid the longer we both stayed quiet.

“Listen, I’ll call you later when I know more, okay?” I nodded my head, only realizing a moment later he couldn’t see me. I took in a deep breath.

“Okay, yeah.” He mumbled a quick goodbye, hanging up the phone and leaving me alone to grieve. The once cheerful morning turned grey with sadness, clouds looming as a reminder to the sunshine we had lost that morning. The dew turned into mud and the plants wilted. My bag was packed in minutes after the call ended, bag slung over my shoulder.

Conrad didn’t want me there, and that was fine. But my mother was at home, sitting with only two thirds of her family who were probably all unaware besides her. If Conrad didn’t need my shoulders to lean on, my mother did. She knew Susannah longer and truer than any of us had. The pain she must be carrying could only be indescribable to her. So if I wasn’t leaving for the Fishers, I was for her.

I never got that call from Conrad, not even a text. As I laid in my childhood bedroom, eyes glued to the ceiling and the silence of the household drowning me in my own self isolation, I didn’t even wonder why. For the first time, my life didn’t revolve around Conrad, on how he was doing, what he was doing. I didn’t miss him anymore. Not because the hurt of him not being here was any less, but because the pain of his mother never coming back being worse. It canceled out and an extreme numbness took over. I felt nothing. I had cried all my tears, screamed into my pillow until my voice gave away. My knuckles hurt from how hard I gripped the steering wheel on the way home. I had already lost it and now I had nothing else to give.

…

The funeral was a week later. Not much time to process such a heavy loss. Adam wanted me to speak at the funeral, he knew how much Susannah meant to me, but I couldn’t do it. Walking up to the podium, I couldn’t say her name. Even if it were just a practice run. My voice ran dry, eyes wet. Staring at her photo by the alter, all I could do was shake my head. I felt ashamed that I couldn’t do what her husband wanted for her. I felt embarrassed I couldn’t help the family who was going through so much still. They claimed they understood, but the guilt loomed.

We sat three rows behind them. Strangers separating us. It made me angry. If not us, the ones who spent hours on hours together, at least my mother deserved to be sitting in the front row with the Fishers. She was a sister to Susannah. She was just as much of a family as they were. I kept my mouth shut, my eyes down. The family took turns speaking, each sentence summarizing her in the most beautiful way possible. Some old friends spoke in her honor too. It felt wrong then, how people who barely knew her could stand up there and act like she was their greatest gift.

When it was Conrad’s turn, he sung a song. In his pain, his voice failed him. Wavering and breaking through the song. He apologized, looking out into the crowd he met my eyes. I wanted to look away, not wanting him to see me so broken when I should be the one supporting him. But by looking into my eyes, even as teary and red as they were, he grounded himself. By the time he finished, the venue was silent, soft cries echoing from the back rows. Nobody acknowledged them out of the fear that it would cause them to breakdown again.

The silence carried over to the Fishers Boston home. Other than the adults mingling and the quiet chatter of Jeremiah and Steven, the room felt empty. It felt like a depressing party, one that was about Susannah, yet excluded her from it.

It was tiring, the whole experience. Always trying to catch up with how quickly everyone else was getting over it. I felt like a dead weight compared to Steven and Belly, who had already started coming to terms with it. I was the only one left living in denial. The only one still dreaming of epiphany’s to make some sense of it. To make the heartache more bearable.

I wore the dark eye bags and my salt tears like a tattoo, ones that had been permanently stained on my face since the news broke. It was obvious I wasn’t doing well. I had planned to go back to school after the funeral, seeking a clean space to cope. To get away from the constant reminders of what could no longer be.

Jeremiah said I looked too weak to be driving myself to school tonight. He set up the guest room for me, decorating it just as his mother used to. Even in my protests he managed to convince me. He told me how it was more for him than it was for me. How having me close made him feel better because it was like gaining a piece of him family back. Like having an older sister come home from college.

After that, I kept mainly to myself. Finding the emptiest rooms and sticking to them. I hid my face in my knees, soft cries coming in waves until I had nothing left to cry for. Alone, I sat in the darkness until the soft chatter died out and all distractions became a heavy peace.

“You should get to bed soon, Conrad, it’s getting late.” I forgot all about him, I realized. Not once having checked on him. It was only Adams soft suggestion reminding me of the other brother, who was probably taking the funeral even harder than his younger brother. Wiping my cheeks with the backs of my hands, I waited until the choking breaths turned into quiet sniffles. Until everything felt calmer, more collected to see him. I wanted to be able to be there for Conrad, even when I wasn’t doing okay either. I wanted to—no. I needed to be strong for him.

I knew where he was, I could see the frame of his back hunched over on the couch. Head hung low and hands fidgeting around anxiously. It made me nervous.

I took the time to go downstairs then, only after I was sure everybody else had filed out of the house, leaving it looming with an eerie emptiness. There were leftovers on the table, one serving left, the rest already in the refrigerator. Adam had already cleaned away any evidence of Susannah’s death.

Taking what was left, I put it on a paper plate. My own stomach rumbled, being empty, but the starving feeling felt better than feeling nothing at all. I knew Conrad hadn’t eaten in hours, cemented to his place on the couch, he needed to eat. It could be considered a peace offering, a kind gesture. Something to maybe lift his spirits.

My hands were shaky, so I had to hold his plate with both hands. I leaned against the wall when I went back upstairs, I didn’t trust my footing anymore. I had to stop halfway up, take a deep breath and pull it together. Conrad needed me, I had to be there. I wanted to be there.

It was a soft knock that pulled me from my descent into a bottomless pit of sadness. My mind shook its self free, eyes fighting consciousness. I was ready to snap, irritated at my dads efforts of trying to move me from where I found some sort of comfort. Really, it wasn’t his fault. He was only a concerned father who wanted to help his son. But I wanted none of it. I wanted even more now than when my mom was alive to be as distant from him as possible. Unforgiving of his horrible mistakes that caused my mom so much pain.

The soft voice that spoke wasn’t one that belonged to my father, not even my brother who had a sweet voice saved specifically for moments like these. To ease the tension, calm everyone down. No, it was like honey. So sweet and gentle. So easy to listen to. I longed to hear more.

“Con?” It belonged to Y/n. My Y/n. The only person I hadn’t really seen all day. The only person I wanted to see all day. Instead, she had spent it making everyone happy with her. Tending to Jeremiah’s wish, staying with us overnight. Giving a loving hand to hold for Belly and Steven, calming down her younger sisters uneven cries and her brothers panicked breathing. She tried to get her mother to open up, but Laurel was like me. Stubborn. Even with her best efforts, she was locked out, leaving her to seek solace in the less crowded rooms upstairs. I wanted to come see her, but my feet no longer worked. My legs were jelly. I felt stuck to the couch. Too weak to keep moving.

I acknowledged her, mouth too dry to speak. She took it as a signal to sit down beside me. The plate in her lap was shaking like her. The food looked unappetizing, but I appreciated her effort. She pushed it towards me, a hand finding my back, she rubbed it like she had in the summer when I was drunk and clinging onto the toilet out of sickness.

Nodding my head, I accepted it only to place it on the table in front of me. I knew she knew I didn’t mean it as an insult, I just couldn’t eat right now. I just wanted her to hold me. I wanted to feel safe again.

So, I placed my head where I’d always wished I could. My ear pressed against her shoulder, hands glued to my lap, her arms wrapped around me out of instinct. It was so warm, so loving. It helped to heal the ache that was ripping through my heart slightly. My headache didn’t feel so severe with her close. She made everything better, just as she always did.

“Con, I’ve known you my whole life, you’re my best friend. You can talk to me. You can trust me, okay?” Her hands in my hair suddenly felt my poison. Little thorns poking into my scalp. The sour reminder that this hold, this closeness wasn’t reserved for me. I wasn’t hers, she wasn’t mine. It made me feel angrier than I should’ve. A mix of grief and disappointment mixing together into something she didn’t deserve. She was only trying to help.

Sighing heavily, I pulled myself away, standing up to create a distance that I knew she felt not only physically but mentally. A feeling of someone close to her becoming closed off to her, just as her mother had done earlier today. I couldn’t look at her. I’d spill everything.

“Conrad, no. Please don’t shut me out. Please, not now.” She was pleading with me, her voice shook slightly, it made my heart break a little, hearing how feeble she was feeling.

“Y/n, can you go please?” I didn’t mean what I said. I’d only done it out of my own petty desires. Hurting the girl I loved more than anything in this world out of my own selfishness. When we were both hurting the most. She didn’t say anything, but I imagined she must’ve shook her head. Her footsteps grew closer.

“No.” She choked out, “No, I’m not leaving you alone right now.” Y/n cared so much for me, she always did. She knew how to read me better than anyone else. She knew that even now when I was asking her to go, I didn’t mean it. I wanted her more than anything. Her knowing this overwhelmed me with a love that I misplaced, unable to cherish and welcome it due to my own selfish nature. Only ever knowing how to push away what was so graciously given to me. I decided to snap at her, make her leave.

“What do you get out of staying, Y/n?” My words were laced with venom, I turned around to speak to her now. Having already built up my walls to know I wouldn’t break. She was speechless, confused.

“I-I don’t…” She couldn’t find the words. Not expecting to be turned on so quickly when she was just trying to help, to be kind.

“God, you are so selfish. This is about you doing what makes you feel good, right? You don’t give a shit about me, Y/n.” I didn’t mean it. I knew Y/n was far from selfish. She was the most selfless person I knew. Always putting herself dead last to help everyone else thrive. She hated thinking she was one day going to be depicted as someone selfish, someone cruel. It was an insecurity I knew she had since childhood. So, in my own anger, I pointed my weapons at her deepest hurts.

“Con, no. That’s not true.” She was defeated now, lip quivering and face contorted into pure pain. I scoffed.

“You can’t even look me in the eyes when you say it. You don’t have to pity me just because my mom is dead.” I kept going, unable to stop now that I had started. I had already stabbed her, now I was only twisting the knife. I watched her eyes well up with tears, all glassy and red. Her lip quivered and her eyebrows pulled together.

“Fuck you Conrad!” It was unexpected. I hoped she would walk away, leave it be and blame it on my grieving, but I should’ve known better. Y/n was like me, stubborn. She was just as much of a fighter ad I was, kinder but full of anger just as I was.

“Susannah was as much of a mother to me as my own! You aren’t the only one grieving, asshole! I’m doing this because I care. I care Conrad, and I wish I didn’t because you don’t deserve it, but I do. And I’m afraid I always will. So…so don’t you disregard my sadness out of the spite of your own anger!” What started out so strong had faltered into a weak confession. She was looking at me in the eyes, finding it in herself to finally make eye contact, breaking the invisible barrier between us. We were chest to chest.

Even in her state, she was so beautiful. Like an Angel sent form heaven specifically for me. I couldn’t help the way my eyes searched her face. I felt confused, more overwhelmed now than ever.

A silence took over, heavy breathing turning into quiet huffs of air. Even, steady. We were so close, I could feel her body heat radiating onto me.

I opened my mouth to speak, I wanted to apologize but the words got stuck. I couldn’t convey what I wanted to tell her. How she meant the world to me, how she was the only person who I cared about more than anything. She was the only person I didn’t want to shut out, didn’t mean to shut out. I loved her more than anything I’ve ever loved and it hurt me to not be able to love her as more than a friend.

My fingers found her hand then, squeezing and pulling her fingers between my own. I held it there, by her side, trying to get her to understand. I heard her breath hitch, saw her eyes find my lips. They flickered back up to my face. I needed her badly then, I knew I couldn’t wait. She was right here, so willing to stay when I’d treated her so horribly. She saw right through me constantly, she stuck by me in my darkest storms.

I didn’t think about it when I did it. About how my leaning in, my effort to kiss her could’ve scared her away. I was blinded by want, by need. I forgot it takes two people to have something.

Y/n released a breath only to hitch it once again, moving back from where I leaned in, she lengthened the gap between us again. A soft whimper woke me up from my haze, her head shaking rapidly. She looked scared. But more than that, she looked guilty, hurt.

Susannah was dead, there was no way to avoid that fact. My mom was never coming back, and that alone broke everyone into tiny pieces. Knowing Y/n, I knew how complicated everything felt for her. She was grieving, hurting. Not even I could piece together what she was thinking.

“Connie.” Her second whimper of my name is the one that made me back away. It was then I saw what I had done. The girl I loved most was staring back at me with wide eyes, mouth open slightly and body shaking. More than that, she had tears streaming down her face rapidly. I had made Y/n cry. For the first time in my life, I had made my best friend cry.

My heart shattered at the realization. How I’d ripped her down, made her feel vulnerable and then went in to kiss her like it would cancel everything out. I moved back again, trying to find the right words to apologize with. A silence surrounded us, crickets and the late night breeze the only sounds filling the walls around us.

I watched her a step back, slightly faltering over the threshold of the doorframe. Her hand ripped away from mine quickly, leaving a burning feeling behind from where we were once connected. A pain that wasn’t real, but felt so. She began to walk backwards now, hands finding the hallways walls for support, her feet failing her.

“Y/n.” My voice was quiet, my feet cemented to the floor. She shook her head again, a sob racking through her body. It’s a sound I’d never heard before. One I hope to never hear again. I could see how panicked she was. How everything was just now catching up. Her feet move quicker now, seeing how I’m reaching out for her. She’s scared, how could she not be? We’d crossed a line that wasn’t meant to be crossed, one that was toed over during one of the most horrible moments of our lives.

She’s halfway down the stairs now, the thumping of her feet louder than the creaking of the stairs. Jeremiah sticks his head out at the sound, looking between her disappearing figure and my body stuck in the doorway. It’s then I realize she’s actually leaving. Not to find peace in the guest bedroom, but to go away for good. I’d pushed her away, why had I pushed her away?

I’m quick then, my feet finding the floor in front of me, I make a mad dash down the hall and around the old banister. It cried under my weight but I push through, desperate to reach her. I don’t care who I wake up, if my fathers mad. If he’d just finished crying himself to sleep. I’m shouting after Y/n, yelling her name like it’s the only word in my dictionary.

“Y/n!” My feet stopped at the beginning of the driveway. The space her car once occupied is gone, not even the distant sound of a car rushing down the street can be heard. She’s slipped away from me just as my mother had, leaving me completely alone.

I walked out to the street, trying to see if she had parked it elsewhere. She wouldn’t leave me, would she? Not after we’d promised we’d always be like this. So close, always together.

The street was empty, only the flickering street lights illuminating the dark streets. I felt defeated, broken. I had got what I intended for, but not what I wanted.

Y/n was gone like the wind, leaving me in the stillness of the night, overthinking everything that had led us to this tipping point. All the tension, all the build up just for the resolve to be our ending. I always dreamed of the day I could finally confess my feelings to her. Even if she didn’t reciprocate them, she would never be mean about it. We’d always be close, and that alone gave me comfort. Now, I wasn’t so sure. What should’ve brought us together in my head, the one thing I’d always dreamed about, had split us apart. It’s almost funny how it happened, when it happened. The two people I always saw myself standing next to for the rest of eternity gone within the same week. Unsure if seeing them again was even something that was possible.

In all the years I had ignored him, Conrad never stopped reaching out. Not until my Junior year. My phone was filled with unanswered messages that varied from topic to topic. He kept me updated even in my absence from his life, wanting to salvage the closeness we’d cherished when we were younger.

He told me how he was in therapy, a week later he told me how he’d stopped going. Not only because he felt like it was nearly impossible to open up to a complete stranger, but because going felt like another financial burden he was adding to his fathers long list of bills and soon to be debt. Conrad shared how day by day, the grief of losing his mother was getting easier to cope with. The happy memories of her having been around at some point fueling him each day. He felt grateful he even had the pleasure to know her so well. Call her his mother. He was going to school to become a doctor now, changing his major halfway through his freshman year because he wanted to help people going through what his mother was forced to endure. He wanted to save people, help them in ways he was never able to help Susannah. He had a good heart, an honest one. Yet, he never spoke of any new lovers in his life. He carried all these amazing qualities, but his heart still longed for me, the girl who had left and never looked back.

It had been just over three years since I’d walked away from Conrad. Three years since I’d seen him. I couldn’t even look at him through photos. I was grown now, but my heart still aches in the same childish way it did when the wound was fresh. He never brought up what happened after the funeral. It was like his attempt to kiss me didn’t exist, only adding to the hurt I felt. Only confirming what I believed from the beginning. Conrad Fisher hadn’t leaned in to kiss me because he loved me, he had done it because he was grieving and didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t love me like I loved him. He did it because I was always so easy. The lovesick fool who would do anything for him, even if it hurt me the most. Susannah had been so sure that he did love me the same, I almost believed her, but it was ignorant to buy into it when it was so obviously not there. Yet, I still felt a tingling sensation each time I looked back at his messages. I wondered if in the time he’d stopped talking to me, he’d found someone else to love and know like he did with me. I hoped that my replacement was beautiful, like a model on the cover of Vogue. I prayed she was smart and kind like Susannah. I hoped she was everything I wasn’t to him.

Deep down, I knew part of my attachment, my fixation on what he was up to was because of the messages. How no matter how wrong it felt, I continued to allow myself to be part of his life from a distance. Even if Conrad didn’t know it, I always cared. Always would. I told him that the day I left. It was fear that turned out to be true. A curse that kept me from finding that same love for anyone else. My heart belonged to Conrad Fisher, a boy who barely knew me anymore. A boy who I wasn’t even sure if I could consider a friend anymore. A boy I want to be able to call my friend again. I had been so resolute all these years in keeping to my word. That after that night, I would never come back. The last would stay just that, the past. It was never that easy.

Letting go of Conrad Fisher was more than only losing the love of my life. It was like throwing away the last pieces of a Susannah. Sure, I still talked to Jeremiah quite frequently. Our phone calls lasted for hours, he never failed to make me smile. But he didn’t have Susannah’s eyes. He didn’t have her blonde hair or her smile. He was a direct reflection of his father, other than his unwavering optimism. None of his features lined up in the same way Conrad’s did. He was her twin, in a way. Losing him felt like losing her all over again.

All I did was try, try, keep trying. I kept pushing until I had nothing left to give, a burnout who barely made it to graduation. No friends to stand with at the finish line. All in an effort to forget what was lost along the way. Losing Conrad made all my achievements feel unworthy. A deep depression looming deep in my stomach, waiting for the right moment to rise, swallow me whole. Not even seeing my family there, sitting excitedly in the folding chairs could lift my spirits. There were four empty seats beside them that shattered my heart. I could place a name to each one. Figure out who would sit where if they had shown. But that bridge was burned and it was my fault.

My fault for running away from the boy who adored me like no other. Who made me feel special. Who understood me like a lover. My heart felt empty, I couldn’t sleep at all that night. Not even when Belly had shared about her forming relationship with Jeremiah, not when Steven confessed he thought he might be marrying Taylor soon, he was ready to buy a ring.

Years ago, that would’ve been something that lifted my mood. Filled me with joy, excitement that my sister was finding her own soulmate in a close friend. How her heart finally beat for the one that was there for her the whole time. But like a train, it hit me that the connecting link between the Fisher family and the Conklin’s would no longer be Conrad and I like I always dreamed it to be. It would be Jeremiah and Belly. Steven’s upcoming engagement didn’t thrill me either. His healthy relationship only reminding me of the ones I lacked. Amplifying the loneliness I was already painfully aware of. All by my own doing.

I felt like I was crashing, listening to my family talk about how well they were doing. It was like they couldn’t see the downward spiral I was falling into. Becoming my worst self.

Going home to a house filled with tainted memories surely didn’t help. Nor did the bottle of alcohol placed in the middle of the kitchen table. Picking it up and drinking straight from the glass was bound to happen, I was hurting and it was my numbing solution. Years ago I had told myself I’d rather feel all the pain in the world than be numb when it came to Susannah’s passing, but now I wished I could take it back. Each drink hurt less and less. The tequila turned into water, my eyes hurt to keep open. I was a quiet mess on the couch. Unaware of anything really.

It was an issue how easily persuaded I was when drunk. In my sober state, I would have never agreed to Belly’s proposition. I would’ve protested, claiming I still wasn’t ready to face my issues. I wasn’t fully prepared to accept that Conrad never loved me, that it was his grief that made him want to kiss me. Something I loved with for years. But I wasn’t sober, and Belly’s argument that we’d be going down for the summer again because it would be what Susannah wanted had me packing a bag for the morning. Ready to go down to the one place I hadn’t been since Susannah still inhabited it.

I found myself hurting in the back of the car, aching, tired. The road underneath the wheels crunching and bouncing the car in a way that made my head pound. I laid my head in my moms lap, praying for it to all be over. Seeking the peace of stillness.

Susannah had once told my mother that she believed I was walking sunshine. A force that lit up the sky when I was around. Someone who’s smile was so contagious, even her brooding son couldn’t help but feel joyful around me. It felt like I was letting her down in a way. Now that everyone had moved on, had gotten better. I felt like an idiot being stuck on the past. What was worse is that I wasn’t sure if I was so stuck because of Susannah or because of Conrad. Both answers freaked me out.

“Y/n, honey.” Her voice was gentle, hands running through my hair. I felt a mess. Hair messy like a child’s, eyes wide yet so tired. My lips were wet with drool, cheeks rosy with the summer heat. My head pounded with a nasty hangover.

I knew what my mom was going to tell me. I felt the car come to a halt, the road turning sharply into a familiar driveway with even more familiar trees peaking through the window. I knew where we were. I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but I knew there was no turning back.

Belly and Steven got out of the car first, just like every year prior. Footsteps echoed from the crushed up shells and rocks that were considered a driveway. Laughter and chatter, I recognized the voice as Jeremiah’s. My mother shifted underneath my head in hearing this, ready to get up. Her eyes met mine, silently pleading for me to just, try.

Sitting up, my back aches from the odd position I forced myself in. What I thought was comfort was a hidden pain shooting through my back. All I wanted more than anything was to lay back down on my moms lap. To pretend we were still at home. Like I wouldn’t have to confront anything. I heard the excitement in Jeremiahs voice.

“So, where’s Y/n?” My moms heavy sigh was a signal of impatience, her understanding was wearing thin, she was ready to shove me out into the outside.

I opened the car door slowly, head peaking out. My eyes were wide and nervous. Hands shaking around the door frame. I felt like a shell of the person I was the last time I’d stepped foot on this very ground.

“Jere.” His eyes were just as bright blue as I remembered, his hair just as unruly and free. He hadn’t changed, that alone gave me some sort of comfort. I felt my lips twitch up into a smile, eyebrows furrowed. I should’ve had smile lines at this age, but I only had worry lines. To stressed to think about being happy. But here I was, body peaking beyond the car door, cowering like a young child meeting new faces at a party.

My feet dragged, my body curling into itself in such a pathetic way. The door close weakly behind me, it didn’t make a sound I was sure I hadn’t closed it properly in my nervousness.

His footsteps were quick on the driveway, long strides shortening the amount of time it took to reach me. His eyes were slightly closed, like he was holding back tears. His arms outstretched, fingers motioning for me to come to him.

I didn’t realize how much I had missed how tightly he held onto me until having been deprived of it for so long. I wished I had been around more. I think I would’ve been better off if I had been. I could’ve healed, talked everything through.

But I ran. Far away from the people who supported me greatly, from the people who I needed to be around the most. I was cowardly and childish. A fool so blinded by her own emotions, I let myself close off to the people who I’d never had to before. I smeared my tears on Jeremiah’s shirt, his shoulder firm under my cheeks.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” His hands held my cheeks when he pulled away, keeping a hold on me liked I’d slip away if he didn’t. I shook my head, eyes crinkling just like they used to when we were children. I let out a hurt laugh. It was the furthest thing from real, but it felt nice to make someone else believe it was. Placing my hands over his, he lost all ability to move his hands other than his thumbs. He swiped at my tears, fighting off his own.

“I missed you.” I pinched his cheek, wiggling his face around playfully and snapping it back into place. His hands fell from my face, pretending to not find amusement in my attempts of play in such a serious moment. He swatted my hands away. My hangover was still intense, and my heart still beat unevenly, there was still a sense of magic around the beach house. I could feel the sadness slipping away, a new relief filling my heart as I eased back into the old routines of summer. It was still there, it always would be, but being around half of the pair I grew up around was enough to clear the murky skies and paint them a beautiful shade of crystal blue.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back.” His words made my hands freeze, pulling back away from him and my smile falling, hard to bring back up. How could I explain my absence was one that was caused not only by the passing of his own mother, but by the cruel joke his brother had played on me. How in the weakest times, he continued to play me, made me feel so easy.

A deep breath got stuck in my throat, blinking hard. The small lump in my throat expanded until it burned. I swallowed, and swallowed until the pain was soothed enough to speak without an intense rasp. Licking my lips, I prepared for the long explanation and heavy details I would shorten to help Jeremiah understand why I had left everyone behind. I opened my mouth, only to have my words cut off and my heart to leap into my throat.

“Y/n.” His voice was airy, like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Turning my head to the side, I saw the joy in his face, mixing with what I could read as pure shock and what I could pick up as a deep sadness. It was clear it wasn’t only the youngest who was shocked by me showing up this summer.

“Conrad.” My tone was the same. I didn’t chase after him like I did to Jeremiah, nor did I welcome him into my arms, letting him walk right up to me. I felt stuck in place, heart racing at the sudden confrontation. He looked thinner, more tired. But his skin was still sun kissed and his nose was burnt on the bridge into a pinkish red. He had freckles scattered on his face and the same middle part that still, even after almost a decade of the change, curved off to the side near the back.

It was his house, it was stupid to pretend to be shocked by him being there. Jeremiah and all the courage I’d gained to even begin the process of speaking up about what happened was gone. The smile, even as fake as it was was wiped from my face and replaced with pure terror, pain.

It was like ripping my heart out all over again. Resurrecting the feelings that I had sworn to have buried over the last years. The ones I promised would never come back. I never saw myself in this light. So pathetic, letting something so old kill me all over again. It was like I was watching myself out of my body, listening to the world around me as a ghost. Only half of who I was. It was like I convinced myself these past few months that what happened was merely just a flesh wound, nothing deeper. I couldn’t have anticipated how far the ache would reach. How intense it would feel.

Conrad had began to try and speak again, his hands raising, my heart beating. The closer he inched, the harder it became to breath. The more blurry my vision became, the more everything hurt in a way I was sure I would never feel again.

Like some saint, Jeremiah had seen it. The way my shoulders tensed, chest rising and falling erratically. My skin was becoming blotchy around my neck and my eyes were watering more. I looked just as panicked as I felt. He’d seen me crashing out, he knew just as Conrad once had to get me out of there.

His hand hooked in mine, fingers intertwined tightly and palms pressed together until there was no space between us. He looked to me with a fake face on, eyes searching mine, he prayed I would go along with it.

My ears tuned most of it out, the pounding on my ears to great to really listen to what he was saying. I could only nod my head and let him lead the way. My footing was unstable, the ground shifting and pebbles flying in front of my feet each time I lifted my shoes off the ground. The birds sung to each other, and my mother instructed everyone to help unload the last of the cars luggage. Jeremiah and I had slipped away, keeping distance away from Conrad while doing so and slipped through the back door to seek shelter in his room.

I knew I had to explain it to him then, I couldn’t leave Jeremiah in the dark. Not when he’d been so worried that he pulled me away from his own brother, my best friend. He’d saved me, in a way. I owed it to him to tell him everything. Even if he’d take Conrad side. Even if I lost my only other bridge to Susannah’s life. He deserved to know.

Sitting on his messy duvet cover, my shoes fell to the floor, creating a heavy sound when they connected with the carpet. My knees were pulled to my chest, as if to hide away in a way. He was patient with me, his hand warm on my leg. I felt calmer without Conrad so close, with walls to separate us. I told him everything. He stayed stone faced while processing my feelings, how my heartache had been so great I couldn’t take myself back here until now. How my heart still longed for Conrad Fisher, how it always would. He didn’t judge me, but I could see how he felt bad for me. An idiot who fell in love with his idiot brother.

She’d been ignoring me all week. Something I never saw myself becoming well aquatinted with when it came to her. She was always a ball of sunshine, so easy going, so open to change. I had no idea that by me expressing my feelings I could change it in a moment. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew she would have run like this.

My mom always believed that Y/n and I were meant to be, pulled together by some invisible force. It constantly worked in our favors to push and pull us into a tightly knitted circle. Just us. When she died, Y/n was persistent on being supportive. Being there, caring more than anyone had ever done for me in that dark time. I thought that it was smart to buy into my fantasies, that Y/n had developed the same feelings I held for her and we could finally be what I’d always dreamed of.

It was the worst thing I could’ve done, looking back. How naive I was to think that even if she did reciprocate what I held for her, she was grieving just like I was. She was weak. Maybe she thought of it as wrong, now that my mom was dead. I drove her away with my own selfishness. It was a regret I carried all of my college experience.

Phone dry, a never ending loop of unanswered texts. She became a dump in a way, a place for me to open up even in her not being there. Part of me liked to think she read the messages. She had turned off her alerts, I had no idea, but thinking she saw them made my heart hurt less.

I thought by her coming, even though I knew the chances were slim as the Conklin’s had packed up and spent the summer down at Cousins without her in the previous years, I knew that maybe by her just being close that we could mend things. I had to. It hurt me to not be able to reach out and touch her like I once had the privilege to.

To hold her fingers under mine, rubbing dirt out of her eyebrows and maybe pressing my palms to her temples just to feel her warmth. How her legs tangled between the lawn and my own. It was all a foreign memory, ones that kept me going. Her laugh was a distant memory, one that echoed each night before I went to bed. For years I covered my ears and held my breath, afraid to loose the sound of her voice and smell of her perfume. Some shirts stayed hung up idly in my closet because she lingered on them. I didn’t want to wash it away yet.

Jeremiah insisted she just needed time after the first day. After he’d taken her away from me. I went into his room that night to yell at him, ask him why he would do that to me when he knew just how badly I wanted to hold her. He shook his head and held his breath. She was still hurting, he explained. Still scarred by the injuries that should’ve healed months ago. She needed time.

Time, something that became limited in the summer. Something we had not much of. There was no more guarantee she would be back. No more sure telling that her smile would once again light up the summer home and her voice would ring throughout the beaches. This could be my last ever moments with her. My last real conversation being one that caused her to leave.

I wanted to make it right more than anything, wanted to show her I still cared more than anything. I wanted to tell her everything. Pretend that we were okay, really be okay. I wanted her back.

Around the twelve day mark, I had enough. Time and space was something she had plenty of. I understood her, better than anyone. I know she needed her space, continues to need to heal. But for the first time in my life it’s like I have no clue on how to even begin to help her do that. It made me feel stupid, helpless. Killing myself over a girl who was once only a little girl to me.

The old dock was a place I found myself at most peace. The way the waves gently brushed against the old wooden beams, rocking the platform above. How the moonlight peaked through the cracks of the wooden roof and glistened on the water. You could faintly make out the shape of fish if you really looked and the wind was chilling compared to the usual humid summer air that hung all morning.

My arms were situated right against my body, hands tucked under my armpits. I was cold, sure, but I would never admit it. I always loved when Conrad would take me out here when we were younger. He learned his own love for the spot form his mother, a love that was passed down from child to child like an everlasting passion.

It was quiet, the water and the air drowning out any background noise. Sometimes if you were lucky, young children would play in the background. Laughter would fill the area. Maybe an old couple would barbecue outside. You could people watch. It was all so serene. Not enough to block out the creaks of approaching footsteps. How the boards groaned under the heavy steps getting closer.

My nose was red, I scrunched it in the cold. I sighed heavily, releasing any tension.

“This has always kind of been our spot, huh.” His voice was much deeper than I recalled it. Much more gravely, raspy than before. He was referring to Susannah and how it started, the first discussions that made us realize we were closer than all the others. We were certainly best friends. It was funny how even though it was her funeral that ultimately led to our breakage that she was a reoccurring theme in our lives. I nodded.

Silence took over us, a gap left between our bodies. I felt the urge to stay in place fighting the one to leave. I swallowed hard, looking over my shoulder and backing away slowly. My feet found the floor behind me, and unlike I had when the incident occurred, I was steady and able to begin my escape.

“Y/n, wait.” Conrad spoke softly. His voice wasn’t demanding, almost like he was begging. His eyes begged more than his voice. He pleaded for me to stay. I turned my head to him, stopping short and turning to face him. I watched as his frame began to tower over mine the closer and closer we got. He left a sizable gap between us still, out of respect for me.

Looking up at him, my eyes reflected the stars, wide and expecting. I waited patiently while his tongue licked around his mouth, his breathing heavier and heavier by the minute. He looked like he might burst.

“Y/n, you’re my best friend.” The words stung to hear even now. Even when I should’ve been relieved to know that he still considered me to be at the top of his list. My own heartache held me back. I could only nod.

“I know.” I could feel the lump in my throat form. How it hurt to not cry. How my eyebrows felt heavy and my nose became sore, not from the cold anymore.

He breathed out harshly, watching as I tried to make my escape again. His hand was harsh on my hand, pulling me back to where I was. I hadn’t even gotten the chance to turn away yet but he knew my intentions just as well as I did.

“You’re my best friend and it kills me to not be able to have you in my life anymore. I miss what we had, what we were. Everything was going great and then…what happened to us, Y/n?” I wish I could’ve answered him, but we both knew what led us here.

“I don’t have to defend my feelings to you.” My lip quivered, feeling a fight rising between us. We never used to fight. Now looking back on it, our last two interactions had only been fights. How quickly things can change.

Ripping my hand from his grasp I turned and made my quick escape down the dock. Walking as quick as my feet would carry me until my feet felt the grass beneath the soles of my shoes. I heard Conrad’s own steps connecting with the flooring just as harshly as mine had. The yank on my wrist was no as gentle as the first time around. His grip was harsh, tight. He made sure there was no escape.

“What is wrong with you?” His voice was raised but he wasn’t shouting. He rarely shouted at me. He always said he loved me too much to be mad at me.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?” My eyes rolled and my chest heaved, I felt myself getting hotter, cheeks redder.

“Susannah’s dead. She fucking died and everyone was hurting. You were hurting, I was hurting! You treated me like a last resort! Like, now that you lost someone important to you—you needed someone to fill the void! Made me feel easy, like an idiot! Trying to kiss me like it didn’t change anything—like it didn’t mean anything! It ruined everything Conrad! You decided that because you couldn’t have your ego bruised by being openly emotional, you just had to keep pushing people away! You used me! ” I threw my free hand up. I was crying. I felt stupid for crying, I shouldn’t be crying over him.

“I didn’t do that! No, Y/n you were never a last resort. I thought…I thought it would help! I didn’t think it would hurt you that badly. God, why did it have to hurt us so badly?” He shouted it at the sky. A fog now hugging the trees in the distance. A rainstorm coming in by morning. Clear sky’s would soon turn dark and murky. It felt fitting.

I felt rage. Pure rage. How blind he was to why I was hurting. I had pointed him in every direction, given him hints and yet he was always the one who even with their smart eyes and quick attention, could never truly figure out what I held for him. It all bubbles out like a sickness. A burning vomit that was nothing more than a dry heave. It hurt to get out, but the relief afterwards was worth it

“Because I love you, you idiot!” My voice was loud, deafening in the heavy silence that now hung between us, “I love you, okay?” I was more quiet the second time, seeing Conrad’s big eyes and shocked expression. How his hand loosened on my wrist, I prepared for the worst. The long awaited rejection that would forever break me, tear away the last pieces of the Fisher brothers from my life all together. Our past only to be held in old Polaroids and my moms photo book.

“And I’ve known it since that day in the pier. You bought me ice cream and I realized nobodies ever cared for me like that before. It felt so good to be know so well. It felt ducking amazing to have someone like that. I cared so much about you, I’m afraid I always will. Even now I can’t shake it.” I went on and on, confessing how I felt, when I realized what always been there. I felt his touch leave me completely. It felt cold to be so alone. My tears were salty when they landed on my lips, I wonder if Conrad could taste them.

His hands were warm on my cheeks, palms pressing into my jawline so hard that the simple touch felt that much more intense. His eyes were shut, I noticed. So I closed mine too, allowing myself to give into the boy in front of me. His chest pressed against mine, we were so close, air was almost impossible to find. I could only breathe in him, everything was Conrad. I could feel him everywhere. My nose, my eyes, my ears, my fingertips. His lips molded against my perfectly, slotting themselves into place and setting off jolts of electricity in my veins. It was slow and passionate, everything I had ever dreamed it to be. Wished for. He was gentle and rough, fearful to hurt me, as if I would shatter under his touch, but the pure desire to show me he felt the same was too great to dull down his actions.

We separated with a gasp. Heaving at the lack of air, both breathless form how long it lasted and how much build up had led us here. How badly we desired it. His forehead rested against mine softly, hands sliding down to settle on my waist. He was a lot softer now, more gentle, kinder. Like now that everything had been said wordlessly, he could finally relax by having me in his hold.

Our eyelashes fluttered against the others cheeks, a soft laughter passing between us. Our smiles were b, it felt more like a scar than a scab now. To have some reassurance that he didn’t go after me because I was easy in his eyes. But because he felt the same.

“It was the day at the beach. We got sunburnt badly and you took care of me all night.” I kissed his cheek while he spoke, holding onto him just a moment longer, “You said you realized your feelings the day at the boardwalk. I found mine while you were rubbing aloe on my back.” We laughter again at the almost stupid memory. How we had both realized what we felt at rehab seemed like the most insignificant parts of our relationship. Not when Conrad had taken me to my first party and danced with me all night, not when I stayed up all night with him and held him close just for the hell of it, but when we were children.

We had been so blind to it our whole lives it was almost a tragedy. How much wasted time we had in our lives. It was something we would never get back. Something so precious, something we all had so little of. It was too late to rewrite our history. We could only hope to fix what was broke. And in the silent of the night, Conrad began the mending with the soft whisper of three simple words. Ones that came out in almost a mumble, they only reached my ears.

“I love you.” I never truly believed Conrad when he would joke how distance makes the heart grow fonder, but after what felt like a lifetime apart, it felt like the most honest statement to be made.

Conrad Fisher was mine and I was his. After all of our damaged fights and flaws, we’d found each other again. Being pulled together again by that invisible string. Sticking like glue. My heart swelled knowing he would be mine in the morning.

I will forever cling onto everything I feared, but I will feel at peace with my own inquiries while now that we are half-awake, intimate in how we hold each other. Finally, the grief subsided and I am at peace. I am myself again, he is himself with me.

I know myself better than I have in years.

#conrad fisher #conrad x reader #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher angst #team conrad #conrad x you #jeremiah fisher #y/n x character

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