ʚɞ

˙⋆✮ ˖᯽ ݁˖· — tell me when did your winning smile start to look like a smirk?

[ddixonsfawn]

𓃴 about me

she/her | nineteen | i write for anything i like.

"my mercy prevails over my wrath."

the world needs more fanfiction.

┃𓆰𓆪 masterlist.

┃𓆰𓆪 what i write for: twd, greys anatomy, tsitp, obx, and more.

┃𓆰𓆪 no hate of any kind will be allowed, you will be blocked and reported.

┃𓆰𓆪 requests are open!

[ddixonsfawn]

pls send requests for daryl dixon yall. i have a draft that's almost done for daryl, just need to write the smut :))

[ddixonsfawn]

༉‧₊˚. the summer i turned pretty!

☆ smut, ꨄ︎ fluff, ᨳଓ angst

conrad fisher

⋆˙⟡ less ⋮ pt 2. ᨳଓ ꨄ︎

⋆˙⟡ goodnight n go. ☆ ꨄ︎ ᨳଓ

steven conklin

⋆˙⟡ coming soon.

[ddixonsfawn]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ masterlist!

⋮ ⌗ the walking dead┆coming soon!

⋮ ⌗ the summer i turned pretty┆

⋮ ⌗ greys anatomy┆coming soon!

⋮ ⌗ outerbanks┆coming soon!

and more... ✶⋆.˚

[ddixonsfawn]

perhaps some hot and steamy conrad smut with an angsty love confession?

⤷ CONRAD FISHER ˎˊ˗

goodnight n go ⟡ ݁₊ .

warnings; smut (18+), angst, confession, fluff, miscommunication, fingering, reader is mean to conrad for a bit, based on ep 11, p in v (unprotected, WRAP BEFORE YOU TAP!) and happy ending.

a/n: hello!! thank you for this request, i hope you enjoy it! this is my first time writing smut so no hate! im open to feedback! i cant tell if i like the smut part but idkkk. thank you! also im getting to all of my requests, trust me ill do my best. thank youuu!

the last thing you expected was to see conrad fisher on your doorstep in spain. it was the last thing you wanted, the last thing you needed. the rain fell heavy, spilling over the quiet street, and the sky pressed low with grey. he stood there, soaked through, drops sliding from his hair, his eyes fixed on you like he hadn’t rehearsed this part.

just when you thought you had closed that chapter of your life, without him in it, he shows up again. every time he pushed you away, every time you told him you were done, he found a way back. it was a cruel cycle, a loop you swore you’d broken, yet here he was, standing in the rain like he belonged to every page you tried to tear out.

“conrad?” you said, barely above a whisper. you couldn’t believe it, couldn’t process that he had come all the way from california to spain, to your doorstep.

“hey… i’m sorry, i know you probably have plans.” he finally said, his voice low, carrying that same careful hesitation. he gave a small, almost nervous smile, tilting his head in that same familiar way that made your chest ache.

“no.” you paused, licking your dry lips before finishing, “i don’t .” the words came out sharper than you meant, but how could they not. he broke your heart and disappeared, and now, a year later, he was here. no warning, no plan, just standing in front of you like nothing had happened.

you looked away, your chest tight, before opening the door just enough to let him through. with a small wave of your hand toward the apartment, you signaled for him to come in, though every part of you screamed at how wrong it felt to let him cross that threshold again.

“sorry for the mess, i was busy.” you said, leading him into the living room where scattered pictures in frames hung gently across the walls. it was true—you had been busy. being a veterinarian technician meant endless hours, long nights spent studying until your eyes burned, and early mornings training at the local animal clinic. your life had been full, steady, almost enough to keep thoughts of him away. almost.

“i don’t mind,” he said quickly, his eyes already drifting away from you. they landed on the picture frame sitting on the table, the one you always thought about hiding but never did. it was a blurry shot, all of you crammed together. conrad, belly, jeremiah, steven, and you, caught mid-laugh at something laurel had said. the kind of moment that felt untouchable, frozen in time, before everything had fallen apart.

before susannah died, before he ended things so suddenly, before the beach house became nothing more than a faint, bittersweet place to think about. you had been there every summer since you were three years old, your mom bringing you along, weaving you into their family until it felt like your own.

those walls carried every version of you, every laugh, every secret whispered under salt-stained skies. until grief and goodbye turned it into a memory you weren’t sure you wanted to touch anymore.

clearing your throat, you watched as his eyes flicked back up to meet yours. before you could get a word out, he spoke first. “look… i know this is sudden, and i know you don’t want me here. but i can’t stop thinking about you.” his voice cracked just slightly, enough to make your stomach twist, the weight of his words pressing into the space between you.

you laughed, though nothing about it was funny. it slipped out sharp and hollow, the kind of laugh that carried more disbelief than humor. shaking your head, you crossed your arms, trying to steady yourself.

“conrad, i haven’t seen you since last summer,” you said, the words cutting through the thick air. “and now you show up here, in spain, after everything? i mean..we were together for 6 months in highschool.”

your chest felt tight, like the walls of the apartment were closing in. the memories came back in knife cutting waves. prom night, the rain, the sharp edge of his voice when he told you it was over, the silence that followed.

you had rebuilt yourself from the pieces he left behind, poured your whole soul into long days at the clinic, into a life that was yours and only yours. and now here he was, standing in the middle of your living room, dragging you down with him, asking you to believe in something you’d already buried. or you thought you did.

“it hasn’t been years since christmas, or when we almost kissed. you’re telling me—” he stopped, his voice faltering as if the words themselves weighed too much. his chest rose and fell unevenly, his hands flexing at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. finally, he drew in a shaky breath, forcing himself to meet your eyes. “did that mean anything? at all.”

the silence after was heavy, pressing against the walls. the memory flickered back instantly, that night in december. soft lights, the warmth of the fire, the way his hand had brushed yours and lingered. how close his lips had been to yours before you pulled away, shattering the moment. you’d told yourself it was nothing, just another almost, another thread in a story you were desperate to unwrite.

but now, standing here, he was asking you to admit it out loud, to unravel everything you had tucked away neatly into the past.

“i don’t know. i don’t know how to feel, conrad. and i wish. i wish i was as sure as you. but i’m not.” your voice trembled at the edges. you drew the words out because each one was a small surrender, and you needed every inch of time to make sure you kept from saying what lived behind them. to say it. i love you, conrad beck fisher. the thought sat heavy and bright and impossible in your chest, like something you weren’t allowed to touch.

his face went small, like someone had folded a map down to a corner. for a second he looked younger, as if the years and the distance had been peeled away and you were back at the beach house, sunburnt and laughing. then the rain on the window caught his profile and he looked older again, tempered by whatever he’d carried through the months you’d been apart. he swallowed.

“you don’t have to say it,” he whispered, but the whisper carried everything he was. it was apology and years of memories braided together, soft and raw. he took a step closer and then stopped, like he was afraid the space between you might close with one wrong move.

his hair was still wet, and a smell of salt and rain clung to him, the same salt that used to ride in on the ocean breezes from the beach house. it made something ache behind your ribs.

you folded your arms tighter, not because you were cold but because it made you feel anchored. “it’s not that simple,” you said. you thought of prom, of susannah’s funeral, of the long stretches of silence after he left.

you thought of all the small, tedious things that had rebuilt you: late shifts at the clinic, the steady weight of responsibility, the way a sleeping dog looked like a promise kept. those were the bricks you had laid without him, and you could not pretend they had been laid in vain.

conrad’s eyes searched yours, pleading and hope in turns. “i know,” he said. “i don’t expect you to forgive me. i don’t expect you to forget. i just… i needed you to know i’m here. i needed to tell you that i’m sorry, properly. and that i still—” he stopped, cutting himself off as if the rest might make you run. his hands found each other and twisted, a nervous, human motion that made you want to take them in your own and stop whatever storm was inside him.

silence fell and for a moment the only sound was the rain tapping the sill. you thought of the picture on the table, the blurry laugh, the summer light. you thought of how you’d slept on a futon for months after it all ended, how you learned to read charts and stitch wounds and keep your hands steady while other things fell apart.

the life you’d built was messy and beautiful and fiercely yours. you were afraid that letting him back in would mean losing the edges you’d fought to sharpen.

“what do you want from me, conrad?” you asked finally. your voice was steadier now, not because you’d found the answer but because you needed the question out in the open.

“i want you.” he said, quickly.

the words hit you harder than you expected, rattling through the walls you had built around yourself. his eyes were open, unguarded, and it felt like for once he wasn’t hiding behind silence. you wanted to scoff, to remind him how much he had broken you, but instead something else rose in your throat. something softer, heavier, deeper.

you shook your head, your arms tightening across your chest. “conrad… it’s not just you. it’s not just what you did.” your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to keep going. “i wasn’t there for you either. when susannah was sick, when you were falling apart… i was afraid of losing her, and i still pulled back. i told myself it wasn’t my place, that you didn’t want me close, but the truth is i was also scared of losing you. i didn’t know how to hold all that pain with you. so i let you go through it alone.”

his face shifted, surprise flickering across it before his brows pulled together. he shook his head firmly. “no. don’t do that. you don’t get to carry my mistakes too. i shut you out, i pushed you away. that’s on me.”

“but i let you,” you said quickly, your words cutting through his. “i let you push me out. i should’ve fought harder. i should’ve stayed, even when you said you didn’t want me there. maybe things would’ve been different if i hadn’t given up so easily.” your throat burned, and you blinked against the sting in your eyes. “so if you’re here to tell me you regret it, then you need to know… i regret it too. i regret not being stronger for you when you needed me most.”

for a moment neither of you spoke, the silence heavy with all the years you’d both tried to bury. he looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time, like your confession had cracked something open inside him. finally, he whispered, “we were just kids. we didn’t know how to hold each other through that.”

you let out a shaky breath, nodding. “maybe. but we’re not kids anymore. and if we’re going to try—if we even stand a chance—we have to stop pretending it was only one person’s fault. it wasn’t. it was both of us.”

his eyes softened, and the smallest smile touched his lips, bittersweet and trembling. “then maybe we get to start over. this time, together.”

you didn’t answer right away. you let the words sit between you, fragile and dangerous, like the beginning of something you weren’t sure you could survive but weren’t ready to lose either.

you both stood there, chests heavy, staring at each other in the thick silence. his lips parted, his voice trembling as he began, “i’m sorry—”

“shut up,” you cut him off, your voice breaking, the words sharper than you meant but truer than anything else. before he could react, you reached for him, your hands fisting in the damp fabric of his shirt as you pulled him forward.

your lips crashed against his, urgent and unsteady, all the anger and regret and longing folding into that single moment. he kissed you back instantly, like he had been waiting for you to finally close the distance. his hands cupped your face, rain still clinging to his skin, and you felt the world tilt, dissolve, until there was only him. only you. only this.

his hand gripped tighter at your waist, pulling you against him until your chest pressed firmly to his. the kiss grew heavier, hungrier, as though the years apart had only fueled the fire now spilling out between you. your fingers tangled deeper in his hair, tugging harder this time, and he let out a low sound that sent heat through your stomach.

you backed into the apartment wall, the frame of a picture rattling faintly as your shoulders hit. his lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then down your neck, hot and desperate, his breath uneven against your skin. “god, i missed you,” he murmured, the words muffled against your collarbone as his hands slid beneath the fabric of your shirt, his palms cold and insistent.

you tilted your head back, letting out a sharp breath as your arms clung around him, pulling him impossibly closer. the rain outside pattered faintly against the glass, but inside it was all heat and need, the storm replaced by the two of you finally giving in to what you’d been denying for too long.

his mouth found yours again, urgent, messy, your teeth grazing, your body arching into his touch. the apartment around you blurred, fading into shadows.

you pulled your lips from his, breathless, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “my room,” you whispered quickly, the words barely out before you grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the staircase.

he followed without hesitation, his steps quick, almost clumsy with urgency. halfway up, he couldn’t hold back any longer. his hand tightened in yours, yanking you back against him as his mouth claimed yours again. your back hit the railing, the wooden frame creaking under the force as his lips pressed hot and rough against yours.

you gasped softly, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, the kiss deepening until you felt dizzy. his body pressed flush to yours, the staircase forgotten as his hands roamed, anchoring you in place while his mouth moved like he couldn’t stand another second apart. your heart hammered, each kiss pulling you under, leaving you breathless with how much you had missed this. missed him.

he caught your arm gently, pinning it behind your head as his lips traced down your neck. your breath hitched, your whole body trembling with want, with the ache of everything you’d been holding back. your hands shook as you reached for him, guiding his hand lower, the silent gesture telling him everything you couldn’t put into words.

his fingers lingered, teasing, slow enough to unravel you as he moved aside the lace of your underwear. a sharp gasp escaped you, your head tipping back against the railing. “conrad…” you swore under your breath, his name breaking out of you like a plea, like a confession.

he slipped one finger inside, the wet sounds filling the air with ragged breathes as you held onto him, one hand gripping his neck, the other holding the railing tightly. he slowed, his movements deliberate, as though savoring the moment.

when his eyes lifted back to yours, they were sparkling, filled with something raw and unspoken. before you could even catch your breath, he pulled his fingers out and swept you up into his arms, whimpering at the loss of his fingers inside you.

he held you against his chest like you were the only thing that mattered. your arms looped around his neck instinctively, and the world seemed to tilt as he carried you upward, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was urgent and unrelenting.

kicking open the bedroom door, he carried you inside without breaking the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperate urgency that left you breathless. he nudged the door shut with his leg, the soft thud echoing behind you, before pressing you back against the wall.

his body held you there, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close as if letting go wasn’t an option. your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he moved his hips to yours, deepening the kiss until you both were gasping for air.

he let out a low sound, rough in his throat, as your bodies pressed closer, the need between you impossible to ignore. his hand slid up, finding your hair, tugging gently until your lips parted on a soft moan. the air between you slowed, thick with heat, and the only sounds filling the room were your ragged breaths and the quiet, desperate noises you drew from each other.

he lifted you again, his arms steady and sure, carrying you across the room as though you weighed nothing at all. his lips never strayed far from yours, brushing against them between hurried breaths. when he reached the bed, he bent down, setting you carefully onto the sheets, his hands lingering at your waist as if he couldn’t bear to let go. his gaze swept over you, soft and desperate all at once, before he leaned in to claim your mouth again.

he pulled away just enough to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling fast as his fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. one by one they came undone in a rush, the fabric falling from his shoulders. you reached behind your back, fingers tugging at the ties of your dress, but he shook his head, his gaze steady on you. the shirt slipped from his hands to the floor, forgotten, as he leaned closer again, his voice low, almost a whisper. “i want to do it.”

you nodded, your lips parting slightly as your hands moved down to his belt. the metal clinked softly in the quiet room, each movement slow, deliberate, your eyes never leaving his. his breath hitched the moment you tugged the strap loose, sliding it free before working at the button and zipper. with one smooth pull, you pushed his pants down, the fabric falling away. his chest rose sharply, eyes locked on yours, every inch of him strung tight with want as if the simple act of your touch had undone him completely.

you both stood there, breathing heavy, stripped down to nothing but your underwear. the faint hum of the streets below drifted through the open window, the soft glow of a streetlight spilling across the room, painting him in gold and shadow. the world outside moved on, unaware, while silence wrapped around the two of you.

he stepped closer, closing the space, his hands finding your waist as if he’d been reaching for you all along. and then his lips were on yours again, slower this time, deeper, like he wanted to memorize the way you tasted, the way you fit against him.

you both stumbled back onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath your weight as his hands found your waist, steady and urgent. you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him impossibly closer, your bodies fitting together in a way that felt both new and achingly familiar.

every movement against each other stole the breath from your lungs, every touch unraveling the distance and silence you had carried for so long. the world outside blurred, fading into nothing but shadow and heartbeat, until it was only the two of you. all those late nights of dreaming, of wondering, of aching for him. every moment had led here, to this, to him.

you suddenly pulled back, breathless, your eyes searching his in the dim glow. before he could speak, you shifted, the two of you flipping with a tangle of limbs and laughter caught in your throats. now straddling him, you pressed down, moving with the rhythm of the moment, the years of longing burning away into heat and closeness. his hands gripped your waist, sliding up your back, holding you as if you might disappear.

he closed his eyes, a soft sound escaping him, before opening them again and pulling you down, closing the distance between your lips with a kiss that was deep, desperate, and full of everything you’d never stopped wanting.

he caught your bottom lip gently between his teeth before pulling back, his breath warm against your skin. “i’ve dreamt about this. you…” his voice trailed off, a smile tugging at his lips as his eyes searched yours.

his lips molded to yours, deepening the kiss, one hand steady on your waist while the other slid up your back. with a practiced ease, his fingers found the clasp of your bra and, with a single motion, undid it. the strap loosened, falling from your shoulders as he smiled against your mouth, almost smug, before pulling you even closer.

heat rushed to your cheeks, your face growing hot under his gaze. you couldn’t help the way your own smile spread wide, unsteady but real. “me too…” you whispered, the words slipping out like a secret you’d been holding for years.

falling back into the mattress, you pulled him with you, your breaths tangled as your hands slipped down to the waistband of his boxers. your touch lingered there, a wordless plea, a hint of what you wanted. his eyes darkened as he looked down at you, the tension thick in the air.

you hooked your thumbs beneath your own, sliding yours down and away, the movement slow, deliberate. he followed your lead, the room alive with nothing but the sound of rushing hearts and the quiet hum of the city beyond the window.

his breath hitched as he lingered there, hovering just close enough to drive you restless. his forehead pressed against yours, eyes locking with an intensity that made your chest ache. he shifted just slightly, enough to make your pulse quicken, to make you cling tighter to him.

“tell me,” he whispered, his voice low, frayed with restraint. every line of his body trembled with the effort to hold back, to wait for your answer, for your permission. the seconds stretched, the tension thrumming between you like a live wire, the weight of years, of everything unspoken, hanging heavy in the air.

you could feel his heart pounding against your ribs, your own matching it beat for beat, the silence thick with want and the terrifying, beautiful truth that this was finally happening.

“i want this.” you breathed out, pausing slightly before continuing “i want you.”

that was all it took before he slowly slipped in, allowing you to adjust to his length, he gripped your waist harder, as he gently guided you down. his head tilted back in pleasure, as your face contoured with the feeling of him inside you.

the room grew warmer with every passing second, the air thick and charged as your bodies found a rhythm all their own. your hands clung to him, nails pressing into his skin as though anchoring yourself to the moment. his touch was everywhere—firm, unyielding—one hand pressing against the curve of your back, keeping you close, the other steadying you, guiding you as though he couldn’t bear to let you slip away.

each movement was dizzying, every brush of skin against skin sending sparks through you, a push and pull that felt both desperate and inevitable. the world outside blurred into silence, the only thing that existed was the rhythm you created together, faster, harder, as if years of distance and longing were unraveling in a single breathless stretch of time.

the sound of his low grunts filled the space, each one rough and unrestrained, mixing with the sharp gasp of your breath as you clung to him. every movement sent you further under, the world beyond the walls dissolving until there was nothing left but the two of you.

your body moved with his in a steady rise and fall, the rhythm tightening, pulling you higher, deeper, until heat coiled low in your stomach. the feeling tangled and grew, almost unbearable, every second winding tighter, urging you closer to the edge of something you’d been chasing for years without even knowing it.

“conrad…” you muttered, your voice breaking as your head fell back, lost in the rush of it all. his grip tightened around you, holding you closer as if you were the only thing tethering him to the moment.

your name fell from his lips in a breathless whisper, reverent and raw, his eyes locked on you like he couldn’t look away. every movement, every sound, every stolen breath drew you deeper into him, until it felt like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

“i’m going to…” you whispered, the words breaking apart as you buried your face into the curve of his neck, your breath hot against his skin. he held you tighter, like he felt the tremor building in you, like he wanted to catch every piece of it. before you could say another word, his hand slid to the back of your head, guiding you to him, and his lips claimed yours in a deep, desperate kiss. it silenced everything.

as the coil in your stomach pulled tighter and tighter, you clung to him, your fingers digging into his skin as though he was the only thing keeping you grounded. the world blurred, your breath catching as the wave finally broke, rushing through you in a dizzying flood of heat and relief.

and then, slowly, it ebbed, the storm settling into something softer, calmer, as you melted against him. his arms stayed wrapped around you, steady, unyielding, holding you through the quiet that followed. his name fell from your swollen lips.

he moved faster, his hands shaking, his movements faltered, breath shuddering against your skin as he buried his face in the hollow of your neck. his grip on you tightened, almost trembling, as if he was trying to hold himself together and let go all at once.

with one final push of rhythm, the sound of his low groan broke into the quiet, raw and unrestrained, your name tangled in it like a prayer.

he clung to you through it, chest heaving, heart hammering against yours, until the sharp edges of the moment softened. finally, he lifted his head, eyes half-lidded but shining, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, breathless, “you are perfect.”

untangling from the twisted sheets, you slowly unraveled from each other, limbs heavy and breath still uneven. the silence in the room was thick, broken only by the faint hum of the city outside and the slowing rhythm of your hearts. you shifted closer, laying your head against his chest, the steady beat beneath your ear grounding you in the aftermath.

his arm draped lazily around you, fingertips tracing idle patterns along your shoulder, as if even now he couldn’t stop reaching for you. for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself settle, safe against him, wrapped in the quiet of everything you both had finally let out.

he reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the clean towel you’d left there earlier, and with a gentleness that made your chest ache, he carefully cleaned you up. his touch lingered, soft and unhurried, like every motion was a way of saying he wasn’t going anywhere this time. when he was done, he tossed the towel aside and pulled you close again, your body melting into his warmth.

“i love you, conrad beck fisher,” you whispered, your voice tired but certain, your heavy eyes daring to close.

he smiled, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen in years and looked back at you. “i love you…” your name tumbled from his lips, tender and steady, before he pressed one last kiss to your forehead.

wrapped in him, the weight of the night finally softened, and you both slipped into sleep.

this was your conrad, and this time. with absolute certainty, you weren’t letting go..

you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[ddixonsfawn]

making a fic for conrad based on wood by taylor swift.

[ddixonsfawn]

Could you possibly do a conrad fic where conrad and readers brother were best friends but your brother always had a rule where conrad was to never to be in a relationship with you?

omg yes. making it rn.

[ddixonsfawn]

perhaps some hot and steamy conrad smut with an angsty love confession?

⤷ CONRAD FISHER ˎˊ˗

goodnight n go ⟡ ݁₊ .

warnings; smut (18+), angst, confession, fluff, miscommunication, fingering, reader is mean to conrad for a bit, based on ep 11, p in v (unprotected, WRAP BEFORE YOU TAP!) and happy ending.

a/n: hello!! thank you for this request, i hope you enjoy it! this is my first time writing smut so no hate! im open to feedback! i cant tell if i like the smut part but idkkk. thank you! also im getting to all of my requests, trust me ill do my best. thank youuu!

the last thing you expected was to see conrad fisher on your doorstep in spain. it was the last thing you wanted, the last thing you needed. the rain fell heavy, spilling over the quiet street, and the sky pressed low with grey. he stood there, soaked through, drops sliding from his hair, his eyes fixed on you like he hadn’t rehearsed this part.

just when you thought you had closed that chapter of your life, without him in it, he shows up again. every time he pushed you away, every time you told him you were done, he found a way back. it was a cruel cycle, a loop you swore you’d broken, yet here he was, standing in the rain like he belonged to every page you tried to tear out.

“conrad?” you said, barely above a whisper. you couldn’t believe it, couldn’t process that he had come all the way from california to spain, to your doorstep.

“hey… i’m sorry, i know you probably have plans.” he finally said, his voice low, carrying that same careful hesitation. he gave a small, almost nervous smile, tilting his head in that same familiar way that made your chest ache.

“no.” you paused, licking your dry lips before finishing, “i don’t .” the words came out sharper than you meant, but how could they not. he broke your heart and disappeared, and now, a year later, he was here. no warning, no plan, just standing in front of you like nothing had happened.

you looked away, your chest tight, before opening the door just enough to let him through. with a small wave of your hand toward the apartment, you signaled for him to come in, though every part of you screamed at how wrong it felt to let him cross that threshold again.

“sorry for the mess, i was busy.” you said, leading him into the living room where scattered pictures in frames hung gently across the walls. it was true—you had been busy. being a veterinarian technician meant endless hours, long nights spent studying until your eyes burned, and early mornings training at the local animal clinic. your life had been full, steady, almost enough to keep thoughts of him away. almost.

“i don’t mind,” he said quickly, his eyes already drifting away from you. they landed on the picture frame sitting on the table, the one you always thought about hiding but never did. it was a blurry shot, all of you crammed together. conrad, belly, jeremiah, steven, and you, caught mid-laugh at something laurel had said. the kind of moment that felt untouchable, frozen in time, before everything had fallen apart.

before susannah died, before he ended things so suddenly, before the beach house became nothing more than a faint, bittersweet place to think about. you had been there every summer since you were three years old, your mom bringing you along, weaving you into their family until it felt like your own.

those walls carried every version of you, every laugh, every secret whispered under salt-stained skies. until grief and goodbye turned it into a memory you weren’t sure you wanted to touch anymore.

clearing your throat, you watched as his eyes flicked back up to meet yours. before you could get a word out, he spoke first. “look… i know this is sudden, and i know you don’t want me here. but i can’t stop thinking about you.” his voice cracked just slightly, enough to make your stomach twist, the weight of his words pressing into the space between you.

you laughed, though nothing about it was funny. it slipped out sharp and hollow, the kind of laugh that carried more disbelief than humor. shaking your head, you crossed your arms, trying to steady yourself.

“conrad, i haven’t seen you since last summer,” you said, the words cutting through the thick air. “and now you show up here, in spain, after everything? i mean..we were together for 6 months in highschool.”

your chest felt tight, like the walls of the apartment were closing in. the memories came back in knife cutting waves. prom night, the rain, the sharp edge of his voice when he told you it was over, the silence that followed.

you had rebuilt yourself from the pieces he left behind, poured your whole soul into long days at the clinic, into a life that was yours and only yours. and now here he was, standing in the middle of your living room, dragging you down with him, asking you to believe in something you’d already buried. or you thought you did.

“it hasn’t been years since christmas, or when we almost kissed. you’re telling me—” he stopped, his voice faltering as if the words themselves weighed too much. his chest rose and fell unevenly, his hands flexing at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. finally, he drew in a shaky breath, forcing himself to meet your eyes. “did that mean anything? at all.”

the silence after was heavy, pressing against the walls. the memory flickered back instantly, that night in december. soft lights, the warmth of the fire, the way his hand had brushed yours and lingered. how close his lips had been to yours before you pulled away, shattering the moment. you’d told yourself it was nothing, just another almost, another thread in a story you were desperate to unwrite.

but now, standing here, he was asking you to admit it out loud, to unravel everything you had tucked away neatly into the past.

“i don’t know. i don’t know how to feel, conrad. and i wish. i wish i was as sure as you. but i’m not.” your voice trembled at the edges. you drew the words out because each one was a small surrender, and you needed every inch of time to make sure you kept from saying what lived behind them. to say it. i love you, conrad beck fisher. the thought sat heavy and bright and impossible in your chest, like something you weren’t allowed to touch.

his face went small, like someone had folded a map down to a corner. for a second he looked younger, as if the years and the distance had been peeled away and you were back at the beach house, sunburnt and laughing. then the rain on the window caught his profile and he looked older again, tempered by whatever he’d carried through the months you’d been apart. he swallowed.

“you don’t have to say it,” he whispered, but the whisper carried everything he was. it was apology and years of memories braided together, soft and raw. he took a step closer and then stopped, like he was afraid the space between you might close with one wrong move.

his hair was still wet, and a smell of salt and rain clung to him, the same salt that used to ride in on the ocean breezes from the beach house. it made something ache behind your ribs.

you folded your arms tighter, not because you were cold but because it made you feel anchored. “it’s not that simple,” you said. you thought of prom, of susannah’s funeral, of the long stretches of silence after he left.

you thought of all the small, tedious things that had rebuilt you: late shifts at the clinic, the steady weight of responsibility, the way a sleeping dog looked like a promise kept. those were the bricks you had laid without him, and you could not pretend they had been laid in vain.

conrad’s eyes searched yours, pleading and hope in turns. “i know,” he said. “i don’t expect you to forgive me. i don’t expect you to forget. i just… i needed you to know i’m here. i needed to tell you that i’m sorry, properly. and that i still—” he stopped, cutting himself off as if the rest might make you run. his hands found each other and twisted, a nervous, human motion that made you want to take them in your own and stop whatever storm was inside him.

silence fell and for a moment the only sound was the rain tapping the sill. you thought of the picture on the table, the blurry laugh, the summer light. you thought of how you’d slept on a futon for months after it all ended, how you learned to read charts and stitch wounds and keep your hands steady while other things fell apart.

the life you’d built was messy and beautiful and fiercely yours. you were afraid that letting him back in would mean losing the edges you’d fought to sharpen.

“what do you want from me, conrad?” you asked finally. your voice was steadier now, not because you’d found the answer but because you needed the question out in the open.

“i want you.” he said, quickly.

the words hit you harder than you expected, rattling through the walls you had built around yourself. his eyes were open, unguarded, and it felt like for once he wasn’t hiding behind silence. you wanted to scoff, to remind him how much he had broken you, but instead something else rose in your throat. something softer, heavier, deeper.

you shook your head, your arms tightening across your chest. “conrad… it’s not just you. it’s not just what you did.” your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to keep going. “i wasn’t there for you either. when susannah was sick, when you were falling apart… i was afraid of losing her, and i still pulled back. i told myself it wasn’t my place, that you didn’t want me close, but the truth is i was also scared of losing you. i didn’t know how to hold all that pain with you. so i let you go through it alone.”

his face shifted, surprise flickering across it before his brows pulled together. he shook his head firmly. “no. don’t do that. you don’t get to carry my mistakes too. i shut you out, i pushed you away. that’s on me.”

“but i let you,” you said quickly, your words cutting through his. “i let you push me out. i should’ve fought harder. i should’ve stayed, even when you said you didn’t want me there. maybe things would’ve been different if i hadn’t given up so easily.” your throat burned, and you blinked against the sting in your eyes. “so if you’re here to tell me you regret it, then you need to know… i regret it too. i regret not being stronger for you when you needed me most.”

for a moment neither of you spoke, the silence heavy with all the years you’d both tried to bury. he looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time, like your confession had cracked something open inside him. finally, he whispered, “we were just kids. we didn’t know how to hold each other through that.”

you let out a shaky breath, nodding. “maybe. but we’re not kids anymore. and if we’re going to try—if we even stand a chance—we have to stop pretending it was only one person’s fault. it wasn’t. it was both of us.”

his eyes softened, and the smallest smile touched his lips, bittersweet and trembling. “then maybe we get to start over. this time, together.”

you didn’t answer right away. you let the words sit between you, fragile and dangerous, like the beginning of something you weren’t sure you could survive but weren’t ready to lose either.

you both stood there, chests heavy, staring at each other in the thick silence. his lips parted, his voice trembling as he began, “i’m sorry—”

“shut up,” you cut him off, your voice breaking, the words sharper than you meant but truer than anything else. before he could react, you reached for him, your hands fisting in the damp fabric of his shirt as you pulled him forward.

your lips crashed against his, urgent and unsteady, all the anger and regret and longing folding into that single moment. he kissed you back instantly, like he had been waiting for you to finally close the distance. his hands cupped your face, rain still clinging to his skin, and you felt the world tilt, dissolve, until there was only him. only you. only this.

his hand gripped tighter at your waist, pulling you against him until your chest pressed firmly to his. the kiss grew heavier, hungrier, as though the years apart had only fueled the fire now spilling out between you. your fingers tangled deeper in his hair, tugging harder this time, and he let out a low sound that sent heat through your stomach.

you backed into the apartment wall, the frame of a picture rattling faintly as your shoulders hit. his lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then down your neck, hot and desperate, his breath uneven against your skin. “god, i missed you,” he murmured, the words muffled against your collarbone as his hands slid beneath the fabric of your shirt, his palms cold and insistent.

you tilted your head back, letting out a sharp breath as your arms clung around him, pulling him impossibly closer. the rain outside pattered faintly against the glass, but inside it was all heat and need, the storm replaced by the two of you finally giving in to what you’d been denying for too long.

his mouth found yours again, urgent, messy, your teeth grazing, your body arching into his touch. the apartment around you blurred, fading into shadows.

you pulled your lips from his, breathless, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “my room,” you whispered quickly, the words barely out before you grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the staircase.

he followed without hesitation, his steps quick, almost clumsy with urgency. halfway up, he couldn’t hold back any longer. his hand tightened in yours, yanking you back against him as his mouth claimed yours again. your back hit the railing, the wooden frame creaking under the force as his lips pressed hot and rough against yours.

you gasped softly, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, the kiss deepening until you felt dizzy. his body pressed flush to yours, the staircase forgotten as his hands roamed, anchoring you in place while his mouth moved like he couldn’t stand another second apart. your heart hammered, each kiss pulling you under, leaving you breathless with how much you had missed this. missed him.

he caught your arm gently, pinning it behind your head as his lips traced down your neck. your breath hitched, your whole body trembling with want, with the ache of everything you’d been holding back. your hands shook as you reached for him, guiding his hand lower, the silent gesture telling him everything you couldn’t put into words.

his fingers lingered, teasing, slow enough to unravel you as he moved aside the lace of your underwear. a sharp gasp escaped you, your head tipping back against the railing. “conrad…” you swore under your breath, his name breaking out of you like a plea, like a confession.

he slipped one finger inside, the wet sounds filling the air with ragged breathes as you held onto him, one hand gripping his neck, the other holding the railing tightly. he slowed, his movements deliberate, as though savoring the moment.

when his eyes lifted back to yours, they were sparkling, filled with something raw and unspoken. before you could even catch your breath, he pulled his fingers out and swept you up into his arms, whimpering at the loss of his fingers inside you.

he held you against his chest like you were the only thing that mattered. your arms looped around his neck instinctively, and the world seemed to tilt as he carried you upward, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was urgent and unrelenting.

kicking open the bedroom door, he carried you inside without breaking the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperate urgency that left you breathless. he nudged the door shut with his leg, the soft thud echoing behind you, before pressing you back against the wall.

his body held you there, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close as if letting go wasn’t an option. your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he moved his hips to yours, deepening the kiss until you both were gasping for air.

he let out a low sound, rough in his throat, as your bodies pressed closer, the need between you impossible to ignore. his hand slid up, finding your hair, tugging gently until your lips parted on a soft moan. the air between you slowed, thick with heat, and the only sounds filling the room were your ragged breaths and the quiet, desperate noises you drew from each other.

he lifted you again, his arms steady and sure, carrying you across the room as though you weighed nothing at all. his lips never strayed far from yours, brushing against them between hurried breaths. when he reached the bed, he bent down, setting you carefully onto the sheets, his hands lingering at your waist as if he couldn’t bear to let go. his gaze swept over you, soft and desperate all at once, before he leaned in to claim your mouth again.

he pulled away just enough to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling fast as his fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. one by one they came undone in a rush, the fabric falling from his shoulders. you reached behind your back, fingers tugging at the ties of your dress, but he shook his head, his gaze steady on you. the shirt slipped from his hands to the floor, forgotten, as he leaned closer again, his voice low, almost a whisper. “i want to do it.”

you nodded, your lips parting slightly as your hands moved down to his belt. the metal clinked softly in the quiet room, each movement slow, deliberate, your eyes never leaving his. his breath hitched the moment you tugged the strap loose, sliding it free before working at the button and zipper. with one smooth pull, you pushed his pants down, the fabric falling away. his chest rose sharply, eyes locked on yours, every inch of him strung tight with want as if the simple act of your touch had undone him completely.

you both stood there, breathing heavy, stripped down to nothing but your underwear. the faint hum of the streets below drifted through the open window, the soft glow of a streetlight spilling across the room, painting him in gold and shadow. the world outside moved on, unaware, while silence wrapped around the two of you.

he stepped closer, closing the space, his hands finding your waist as if he’d been reaching for you all along. and then his lips were on yours again, slower this time, deeper, like he wanted to memorize the way you tasted, the way you fit against him.

you both stumbled back onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath your weight as his hands found your waist, steady and urgent. you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him impossibly closer, your bodies fitting together in a way that felt both new and achingly familiar.

every movement against each other stole the breath from your lungs, every touch unraveling the distance and silence you had carried for so long. the world outside blurred, fading into nothing but shadow and heartbeat, until it was only the two of you. all those late nights of dreaming, of wondering, of aching for him. every moment had led here, to this, to him.

you suddenly pulled back, breathless, your eyes searching his in the dim glow. before he could speak, you shifted, the two of you flipping with a tangle of limbs and laughter caught in your throats. now straddling him, you pressed down, moving with the rhythm of the moment, the years of longing burning away into heat and closeness. his hands gripped your waist, sliding up your back, holding you as if you might disappear.

he closed his eyes, a soft sound escaping him, before opening them again and pulling you down, closing the distance between your lips with a kiss that was deep, desperate, and full of everything you’d never stopped wanting.

he caught your bottom lip gently between his teeth before pulling back, his breath warm against your skin. “i’ve dreamt about this. you…” his voice trailed off, a smile tugging at his lips as his eyes searched yours.

his lips molded to yours, deepening the kiss, one hand steady on your waist while the other slid up your back. with a practiced ease, his fingers found the clasp of your bra and, with a single motion, undid it. the strap loosened, falling from your shoulders as he smiled against your mouth, almost smug, before pulling you even closer.

heat rushed to your cheeks, your face growing hot under his gaze. you couldn’t help the way your own smile spread wide, unsteady but real. “me too…” you whispered, the words slipping out like a secret you’d been holding for years.

falling back into the mattress, you pulled him with you, your breaths tangled as your hands slipped down to the waistband of his boxers. your touch lingered there, a wordless plea, a hint of what you wanted. his eyes darkened as he looked down at you, the tension thick in the air.

you hooked your thumbs beneath your own, sliding yours down and away, the movement slow, deliberate. he followed your lead, the room alive with nothing but the sound of rushing hearts and the quiet hum of the city beyond the window.

his breath hitched as he lingered there, hovering just close enough to drive you restless. his forehead pressed against yours, eyes locking with an intensity that made your chest ache. he shifted just slightly, enough to make your pulse quicken, to make you cling tighter to him.

“tell me,” he whispered, his voice low, frayed with restraint. every line of his body trembled with the effort to hold back, to wait for your answer, for your permission. the seconds stretched, the tension thrumming between you like a live wire, the weight of years, of everything unspoken, hanging heavy in the air.

you could feel his heart pounding against your ribs, your own matching it beat for beat, the silence thick with want and the terrifying, beautiful truth that this was finally happening.

“i want this.” you breathed out, pausing slightly before continuing “i want you.”

that was all it took before he slowly slipped in, allowing you to adjust to his length, he gripped your waist harder, as he gently guided you down. his head tilted back in pleasure, as your face contoured with the feeling of him inside you.

the room grew warmer with every passing second, the air thick and charged as your bodies found a rhythm all their own. your hands clung to him, nails pressing into his skin as though anchoring yourself to the moment. his touch was everywhere—firm, unyielding—one hand pressing against the curve of your back, keeping you close, the other steadying you, guiding you as though he couldn’t bear to let you slip away.

each movement was dizzying, every brush of skin against skin sending sparks through you, a push and pull that felt both desperate and inevitable. the world outside blurred into silence, the only thing that existed was the rhythm you created together, faster, harder, as if years of distance and longing were unraveling in a single breathless stretch of time.

the sound of his low grunts filled the space, each one rough and unrestrained, mixing with the sharp gasp of your breath as you clung to him. every movement sent you further under, the world beyond the walls dissolving until there was nothing left but the two of you.

your body moved with his in a steady rise and fall, the rhythm tightening, pulling you higher, deeper, until heat coiled low in your stomach. the feeling tangled and grew, almost unbearable, every second winding tighter, urging you closer to the edge of something you’d been chasing for years without even knowing it.

“conrad…” you muttered, your voice breaking as your head fell back, lost in the rush of it all. his grip tightened around you, holding you closer as if you were the only thing tethering him to the moment.

your name fell from his lips in a breathless whisper, reverent and raw, his eyes locked on you like he couldn’t look away. every movement, every sound, every stolen breath drew you deeper into him, until it felt like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

“i’m going to…” you whispered, the words breaking apart as you buried your face into the curve of his neck, your breath hot against his skin. he held you tighter, like he felt the tremor building in you, like he wanted to catch every piece of it. before you could say another word, his hand slid to the back of your head, guiding you to him, and his lips claimed yours in a deep, desperate kiss. it silenced everything.

as the coil in your stomach pulled tighter and tighter, you clung to him, your fingers digging into his skin as though he was the only thing keeping you grounded. the world blurred, your breath catching as the wave finally broke, rushing through you in a dizzying flood of heat and relief.

and then, slowly, it ebbed, the storm settling into something softer, calmer, as you melted against him. his arms stayed wrapped around you, steady, unyielding, holding you through the quiet that followed. his name fell from your swollen lips.

he moved faster, his hands shaking, his movements faltered, breath shuddering against your skin as he buried his face in the hollow of your neck. his grip on you tightened, almost trembling, as if he was trying to hold himself together and let go all at once.

with one final push of rhythm, the sound of his low groan broke into the quiet, raw and unrestrained, your name tangled in it like a prayer.

he clung to you through it, chest heaving, heart hammering against yours, until the sharp edges of the moment softened. finally, he lifted his head, eyes half-lidded but shining, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, breathless, “you are perfect.”

untangling from the twisted sheets, you slowly unraveled from each other, limbs heavy and breath still uneven. the silence in the room was thick, broken only by the faint hum of the city outside and the slowing rhythm of your hearts. you shifted closer, laying your head against his chest, the steady beat beneath your ear grounding you in the aftermath.

his arm draped lazily around you, fingertips tracing idle patterns along your shoulder, as if even now he couldn’t stop reaching for you. for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself settle, safe against him, wrapped in the quiet of everything you both had finally let out.

he reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the clean towel you’d left there earlier, and with a gentleness that made your chest ache, he carefully cleaned you up. his touch lingered, soft and unhurried, like every motion was a way of saying he wasn’t going anywhere this time. when he was done, he tossed the towel aside and pulled you close again, your body melting into his warmth.

“i love you, conrad beck fisher,” you whispered, your voice tired but certain, your heavy eyes daring to close.

he smiled, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen in years and looked back at you. “i love you…” your name tumbled from his lips, tender and steady, before he pressed one last kiss to your forehead.

wrapped in him, the weight of the night finally softened, and you both slipped into sleep.

this was your conrad, and this time. with absolute certainty, you weren’t letting go..

you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[ddixonsfawn]

˖᯽ ݁˖ CONRAD FISHER !! PART ONE.

DONT WORRY ILL MAKE YOU WORRY.

conrad fisher x fem!conklin reader

warnings: nothing rlly. season 3? some angst, grief, smoking, drinking, swearing, pining.

PART ONE! PART TWO!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

when conrad fisher told a girl he loved her, he meant it. deeply, fiercely, without hesitation. every brush of his fingers, every kiss, every whispered word, all of it careful, all of it real. but he pulled away too. buried his feelings beneath silence. took back what he meant. said the worst thing at the worst time. his eyes impossible to read, his mind loud with a hundred thoughts, his touch suddenly distant.

you were gentle, fierce, but stubborn to the bone. you and conrad were mirrors. holding each thought like it might shatter if spoke. maybe that’s why it never worked out. you both pulled back when it mattered most. the cold, bitter, hard truth? you were scared. scared of breaking him. scared of breaking what the two of you had built with such delicacy.

you had gone to cousins beach every summer. susannah and your mom, laurel, had been best friends since college. and, well… you had been in love with conrad fisher since you were seven and he helped you make raspberry jam for your birthday.

you and conrad fisher dated, once. it ended the way things do when love is real but timing is fast. he pushed you away, shut every door, left you standing there with your heart in your hands, begging him to stay. after that, you made yourself a promise. never again. never let anyone break you the way he did.

you were the oldest, right there with conrad. when things went wrong, it always fell on you. you were the one who had to stay focused, had to be careful, had to carry the weight. it was quiet, constant, and over time, it wore you down.

getting into NYU was your dream, the one thing that kept you going, that made the long nights and early mornings feel worth it. you studied from sun up to sun down, holding onto the hope that one day it would all pay off. and then it did. the acceptance letter came on a quiet afternoon, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself cry. not from sadness, but from finally, finally making it.

── .✦

you drove into cousins beach for the first time in four years. the only sound was the radio humming softly, filling the silence you weren’t ready to break. memories hit you all at once. the sun-drenched afternoons, the salt in your hair, the ice cream place you, steven, belly, conrad, and jeremiah went to every saturday after swimming. it all felt untouched, like the town had been waiting for you to come back.

you were here for belly’s wedding. being the maid of honor meant making sure the summer house was clean, ready, perfect for the bachelorette and bachelor parties. you’d come a day early, just to give yourself enough time to buy everything and set it all up. part of you said it was to stay organized, but deep down, you knew it was also just an excuse to be back, alone, before everything began. before seeing him.

you pulled into the driveway and saw conrad’s car parked out front. your heart sank a little. you turned the engine off, the silence settling heavy around you. for a moment, you just sat there, gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady your breath. it had been years since you last saw him, since that night full of screaming at eachother, slammed doors, and him walking away without looking back. and now, here he was. here you were.

you opened your car door before slamming it slightly. you grabbed your bags and walked toward the front door, unlocking it with your key and slipping quietly inside. the house was still. too still. everything looked the same, like time had paused the moment susannah died. it smelled like salt water and her scent. like summer and grief tangled together.

you walked into the kitchen before stopping in your tracks. there he was, sitting at the table, eyes down, reading something you couldn’t quite make out from where you stood. your heart lurched. your throat went dry. the air felt heavier now, like the house itself was holding its breath. you started to step back, unsure, but then his voice cut through the silence.

“hey,” he said.

you closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again. “hi.” you said softly, the word barely above a whisper, hanging heavy in the air.

“sorry,” you added, your voice a little steadier now. “i didn’t know anyone was here…”

he quickly shook his head. “no, it’s okay.” his eyes flicked to the bags still clutched in your hands.

“do you need help?” he asked, sitting up a little straighter, his voice softer now, careful in a way that made your chest ache.

you smiled quickly “i got it. nice seeing you,” you said, stumbling over the words like they tasted wrong in your mouth. you didn’t wait for a response. just turned and made your way upstairs, your footsteps quiet, but your heart pounding loud in your chest. so loud that he probably heard.

opening your childhood bedroom, you shut the door behind you a little too fast, the click of it echoing in the silence.

“shit,” you muttered to yourself, the word barely escaping your lips.

you dropped your bags by the bed and sat down slowly, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. the light pink floral wallpaper wrapped around you like a memory, faded but still warm. the room smelled like the ocean air and that old perfume susannah gave you.

── .✦

a couple hours had passed. the sun was setting, casting a warm orange and pink glow across your bedroom walls, softening everything it touched. you hadn’t eaten since 8 a.m. the hunger setting in.

with a quiet sigh, you sat up, brushing the hair from your face. you made your way downstairs, each step creaking beneath you. but as you neared the kitchen, your footsteps slowed. something told you he might still be there. and he was. except now, he was cooking.

the soft sizzle of something in the pan filled the air, mixing with the smell of garlic and butter warm, grounding, painfully domestic. he stood at the stove, back to you, sleeves rolled up, his hair a little messier than before. the kitchen lights casted a soft light around him, and for a second, it didn’t feel like years had passed. it felt like one of those late summer nights, when everything was still okay.

you stood at the edge of the room, unsure whether to say something or turn around. he hadn’t noticed you yet. his movements were slow, familiar.

your stomach growled again, little louder this time, and his head turned slightly at the sound. he glanced over his shoulder, eyes meeting yours, unreadable as always.

“you’re still here.” he said, voice calm, not surprised.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat before responding “yeah. i got hungry.”

he gave a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes “i made enough for two.” your heart warmed, but you quickly shut the stirring of feelings down “thanks.” you said quietly.

you walked towards the kitchen, sitting on the chairs that sat near the counter. watching him quietly. the soft hum of the fridge filled the silence, broken only by the occasional clink of a glass or the shuffle of his feet. he didn’t look up, but you could tell he knew you were there.

the air between you held something, unspoken, heavy. still, you said nothing. just watched.

he finished cooking. wiping his hands, you sat up, standing before walking towards the sink. washing the dishes. he paused for a moment, eyes on your back, then turned away, quiet. the water ran warm over your fingers, soap slipping through your hands. it was a small thing, cleaning up, but it felt like more. something in the way the silence settled again, thick and familiar.

he grabbed the plates of food, taking them to the table, as you finished with the last dish. you turned the water off, quickly drying your hands. before making your way to the kitchen table. he was already seated, eyes low, fingers lightly tapping against the edge of his plate. you pulled out the chair across from him, the legs scraping softly against the floor, and sat down without a word.

“thank you.” you said, looking up from your plate before taking a bite, he nodded. the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, barely there, but enough. the food was warm, simple, comforting, like the quiet that stretched between you both. no need to fill it, it wasn’t a bad silence. just the sound of forks against ceramic and the soft rhythm of chewing, steady and slow.

── .✦

after dinner, you both cleaned up. you cleaning the table, while he cleaned the kitchen. “how’s college?” he asked. his voice was casual, but there was a weight behind it, like he wasn’t just asking to ask. you paused, wiping a spot on the table a little longer than necessary. “it’s fine,” you said, not looking up. the air stretched thin, like he was waiting for more, but didn’t want to press. the clatter of a pan in the sink filled the space instead.

you pressed your lips into a thin line before speaking. “how are you?”

he didn’t answer right away, just kept rinsing a plate, eyes focused on the sink like it held something more important than your question.

“i’m alright,” he said finally, voice low.

you weren’t sure if it was true, but you didn’t push. the truth was you missed him. his face, his touch, his voice. it didn’t matter how many years apart from him. the feeling never changed. it stayed steady, buried beneath everyday moments, like this one, with dishes and silence and small talk trying to cover something deeper. you glanced at him, wondering if he felt it too, or if time had softened the edges only for you.

“i’m slumped, good night.” you said, finishing up. before turning to him, smiling softly. he looked over his shoulder, a hint of something flickering in his eyes, tiredness, maybe, or something quieter.

“good night,” he replied, voice gentle. you lingered for a second longer than you meant to, then turned away, footsteps soft against the wooden floor as you made your way down the hall. behind you, the kitchen light hummed, still on.

── .✦

the next morning, the sun flickered through the see through curtains. it was 7:30am, and everyone was coming at 12:45 pm for the bachelor and bachelorette parties. leaving you with a couple hours of preparation, and enough time to clean. the house was quiet, still holding the calm of early morning.

you sat up slowly, letting the light warm your face, before pulling the covers back and getting out of bed. today would be long. busy. loud. but for now, it was just you, the quiet, and a to-do list waiting downstairs.

it was now 11:27am, the house was tidy, the decorations set up perfectly, belly had shown up early, helping you before she spoke up. “how is it?” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion before she continued. “being here with conrad.”

you paused, fingers stilling on the stack of napkins in your hand. the question sat heavy in the air, not harsh, just honest.

“it’s… weird,” you admitted after a moment. “familiar, but not the same.”

belly nodded, not pressing, just listening. she always knew that you were deeply, deeply inlove with conrad fisher. and she always knew that she was inlove with jeremiah fisher. what were the odds.

“i don’t know what i expected,” you added quietly. “he’s still him. but he seems different, more happier.”

she nodded. “try talking to him.” she shrugged, her tone light but knowing. before you could respond, the back door creaked open.

he stepped in, sunlight trailing behind him, a faint breeze following like it didn’t want to let him go. his eyes scanned the room briefly before landing on you.

“hey,” he said, casual, like nothing had changed.

your heart picked up, just slightly. belly glanced between you two, then quietly excused herself to the other room. you were alone with him again.

“hey.” you replied, before cleaning your sweaty hands. blushing softly. he leaned against the counter, watching you with that quiet gaze of his, the one that always seemed to see a little too much.

“place looks good,” he said, nodding toward the decorations. “you’ve been busy.”

you gave a small smile, still focused on drying your hands. “yeah… wanted it to be nice.”

he hummed in response, before the sound of loud noises screaming “jellyfish” filled the house as everyone came in. the door swung open, laughter spilling into the room like a wave crashing the shore.

bags dropped, shoes kicked off, voices overlapping. just like that, the quiet moment between you and conrad dissolving into chaos.

steven came up to you , hugging you quickly. before he pulled back, ruffing your hair as everyone soon came in.

belly reappeared with a grin, mouthing saved by the bell as she brushed past you. you let out a soft airy laugh, stepping aside as the house filled with energy, bodies moving in every direction.

but even in the noise, you could still feel conrad’s eyes on you. just for a second longer. god you just wished everything was the same.

as everyone got introduced with one another, you finally met anika, redbird, and some other friends of belly and jeremiah. they immediately started smoking, laughing like they owned the place. you shifted uncomfortably, the scent already clinging to the air. this was susannah’s house, not a frat house. it felt wrong.

you opened your mouth, paused, unsure if it was your place, then blurted it out.

“hey. can you not..smoke in here?”

the room quieted just enough for your voice to land. a few heads turned. redbird raised an eyebrow, the joint halfway to his lips.

“it’s just… this was susannah’s house,” you added, softer now, but firm. “can you take it outside?”

there was a beat of silence, then anika gave a half shrug. “yeah, alright.” they shuffled toward the back door, grumbling under their breath, but they went.

you didn’t look up, you didn’t have to. you just knew conrad lingered in the kitchen, flexing his fingers nervously, like he always did before he spoke.

“thanks.” he smiled. the word was quiet, but it settled into you like something warm. you glanced toward him, just for a second, catching the way his eyes softened at you. genuine, familiar.

“someone had to say it,” you mumbled, shrugging, trying to play it off. but your heart was still thudding. you weren’t sure if it was the fact the smell of weed still lingered or the worst, that he still lingered.

he nodded, stepping a little closer, like he might say something else. but then someone called his name from the other room, and the moment slipped away again.

still, his smile lingered. and so did the way it made you feel.

you were never truly over him.

── .✦

you, belly, taylor, and anika all got ready later that night. the room buzzed with music, makeup brushes, and the occasional burst of laughter. your red dress clung in all the right places, bold against your skin, and your black boots gave the outfit just enough edge. your hair was slightly curled, soft waves falling past your shoulders, framing your face with a kind of effortlessness you rarely felt.

you thought it was too much. the dress taylor gave you was a little bit more her than you—tight in a way you weren’t used to, a little louder, a little bolder. it hugged your body, turned heads before you even stepped out the door, and while the others cheered you on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were playing dress-up in someone else’s confidence.

you tugged at the hem slightly, glancing at yourself in the mirror again. “i don’t know,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

taylor caught it immediately. “don’t start,” she said, walking over and fixing your strap like it was nothing. “you look hot. just own it.”

you gave a small, uneasy smile. belly chimed in from behind, “it’s different, yeah, but it still looks like you. just… the version of you that’s finally letting go a little.”

you didn’t say anything, but her words stuck. maybe it was okay to be a little unstuck up. maybe it was okay to be seen.

you grabbed an old leather jacket you had sitting in your closet, wrapping it around yourself. it grounded you a bit, familiar, broken in, something that still felt like you. the dress was bold, the boots louder, but the jacket… the jacket brought it all back down.

you turned to belly, your eyes softening as you looked at her. she was laughing at something taylor said, cheeks flushed, hair perfectly curled, a glow about her that came from more than just makeup or excitement.

in two days, she would be married. grown up. stepping into something real and lasting.

and maybe that was what you needed in order to let go of the older sibling role. to stop hovering. to stop protecting. to stop clinging to the version of her who used to run barefoot across the beach calling your name.

as everyone finished their makeup and hair, you all walked downstairs, heels clicking softly against the floor, perfume trailing in the air behind you. the energy had shifted, more fun now, more real. belly was glowing, taylor was hyped, anika was already texting someone, and you… you felt something settle in your chest. not nerves exactly. maybe anticipation.

everyone had agreed to go their separate ways tonight. the girls and the boys. bachelor and bachelorette parties.

the guys were already by the door, jackets on, voices overlapping with plans you only half heard. jeremiah was grinning, steven was pretending to be cooler than he was, and conrad… conrad was quiet, eyes drifting your way when he thought no one would notice.

you caught it. you noticed everything he did. you didn’t react. just looked away with the smallest smile. that he also caught.

“alright, bitches,” taylor said, clapping her hands. “let’s have fun.” belly laughed, looping her arm through yours. “not too much,” she said.

you let yourself be pulled forward, the night stretching out ahead like a story waiting to be written. behind you, you felt conrad watching. but you didn’t look back. not yet.

── .✦

the bar was crowded, packed shoulder to shoulder with bodies swaying to the beat of some overplayed song. lights flashed dimly overhead, and the air was thick with sweat, perfume, and the sharp bite of alcohol. the girls pushed through the crowd, laughter bubbling behind you, but you were focused, weaving your way toward the bar like it was a mission.

“excuse me,” you muttered, again and again, slipping past strangers who barely noticed. probably said it fifty times already. no one cared.

you finally made it to the counter, palms slightly damp, pulling your phone from your jacket pocket. you had agreed to order and pay for the first round of drinks. your idea, actually. a way to make the night feel like a celebration and not just a countdown.

the bartender finally looked your way. “what can i get you?”

you spoke over the music “ten tequila shots, please.”

he nodded, disappearing into the blur of bottles and glasses. behind you, the girls were already claiming a small corner of the bar, shouting over the music, living in the moment.

you exhaled slowly, letting yourself lean into the bar, red dress warm under your jacket, heart beating a little faster than it needed to.

the order came in after a couple of minutes, the bartender sliding the drinks onto a tray with a nod. you thanked him, carefully balancing the weight as you turned and made your way back through the crowd.

you found the girls tucked into a corner near a high table, already laughing about something, cheeks flushed from the heat and the noise. belly reached for her drink as you set the tray down, taylor immediately going for the tequila, and anika pulling out her phone to film the moment.

“alright,” taylor grinned, lifting a shot glass. “a shot for every body you’ve had.”

groans and cheers followed. belly turned beet red, covering her face. anika laughed and raised three fingers without shame. taylor had two, maybe three, you couldn’t remember exactly.

you hesitated.

then picked up one shot. just one.

the only name that came to mind was his. conrad.

it felt strange, taking a shot in his name, as if it was some kind of quiet confession. but you did it anyway. the burn down your throat wasn’t nearly as strong as the ache in your chest.

you smiled like it didn’t mean anything. but it did. and part of you knew he’d always be the only one you’d raise that glass for.

the night faded quickly, the music becoming background noise, the drinks going down easier than they should’ve. you and the girls ordered another round, tipsy laughter echoing between you as the bar got louder, blurrier, a little too warm.

at some point, anika leaned over the table, eyes glassy and grin lazy. “okay, i need candy,” she declared, dragging out the word like it was sacred. “like right now. i’m so serious.”

you blinked at her, confused for a second, until taylor held up an empty little zip bag with a smug smile. “gummies,” she mouthed.

anika groaned, flopping dramatically onto your shoulder. “i want sour patch kids or i’m gonna die.”

you laughed, shaking your head as you downed the last sip of your drink. “alright, candy run it is.”

the decision was made. the bar was left behind in a blur of flashing lights and echoing bass, and the four of you stumbled out into the night, heels clicking on pavement, jackets wrapped tight against the breeze, laughter echoing down the street in search of something sweet.

you all walked to the nearest candy store, the air cool against your skin, city lights casting soft glows over the sidewalk. taylor and belly walked ahead, arms looped together, giggling about something you couldn’t quite hear. you and anika trailed behind, laughing over something dumb. probably a joke that wouldn’t make sense in the morning.

then the group stopped, standing in front of the candy store, neon lights buzzing quietly above the windows. anika walking in.

you pulled out your phone, screen glowing in your hand. 10:46pm. you stared at the time for a moment too long.

you always wondered if conrad would just… appear. like he had a sixth sense for when you needed him most. like he could slip into your life without warning. quiet, unannounced, but always right on time.

he had before.

when your bike broke down on the side of the road, he stayed by your side, helping you fix it. when you cried over a failed test, he sat with you in the library for hours, walking you through every concept.

when you said you were fine, but he somehow knew you weren’t.

and now, here you were. standing under buzzing lights, surrounded by laughter and candy and blurry thoughts, overthinking every word the two of you had exchanged this weekend. every glance that lingered too long. every silence that felt like it meant something.

you looked up from your phone, half-expecting the night to bend and make room for him again. and there he was.

walking with the group of guys, just a few storefronts away, laughing at something redbird said, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, head tilted slightly down like he didn’t want to be noticed. but you noticed. instantly.

your breath caught, just for a second. the noise around you faded, the laughter, the candy store lights, even anika’s voice beside you asking for cash. it all dulled, like someone had turned the volume down on everything but him.

he looked up, maybe by chance. maybe not.

your eyes met. your expressions shifted slightly. softer. he slowed slightly, his smile fading into something familiar.

something perfect.



[ddixonsfawn]

need a fic for tsitp scene in the taxi, staircase and bedroom. thank you.

[ddixonsfawn]

˖᯽ ݁˖ CONRAD FISHER !! PART TWO.

DONT WORRY ILL MAKE YOU WORRY.

conrad fisher x fem!conklin reader

PART TWO.

PART ONE.

warnings: angst, anxiety, panic attack, mental health, yearning, conklin reader, mentions of sex/no smut you little freaks, season 3 ep 7, angst with fluff ending.

a/n: hi! i love yearning, can’t you tell… i can’t tell if i like the ending. idk but ENJOY!!

tags: @mlt2000

── .✦

your eyes met. your expressions shifted slightly. softer. he slowed slightly, his smile fading into something familiar.

something perfect.

and then, like waking from a dream, you snapped out of it. looked away too quickly. blinked like it hadn’t happened. like it didn’t mean anything. your chest tightened, just a little.

he walked over to you, his hands still buried deep in his pockets, that same easy sway in his step “bored?” he asked, voice low, a little amused.

you blinked up at him, pausing just long enough to make him wonder if you’d even heard. then “a little, yeah,” you said, squinting your eyes in mock seriousness, a playful tilt to your head.

the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile. like he saw right through you.

and maybe he did. but that wasn’t a bad thing. was it? the thing was, whatever you and conrad were, it changed everything. like someone shifted the ground a little and didn’t bother to tell anyone. suddenly, everything felt tilted. conversations felt different. looks lingered too long. silence stretched wider. words that were cold, but rarely warm.

it wasn’t love, not exactly. or maybe it was, in that quiet, crooked, hard way love sometimes starts. but the truth is, once it began. whatever it was, nothing else quite fit the same way again. it was like fitting into a old pair of shoes, it felt familiar but something was different. he was different.

and that didn’t just scare you, but it intrigued you. deeply. you were different.

“how is it, being with the frat bros?” you joked, smiling lightly. it felt good talking to him again. you felt free, like a weight had been suffocating you for years. until now.

he lifted his hand, gently moving a small strand of hair from your face. the world paused. your breath hitched. he pulled his hand away quickly, shifting a little where he stood.

“sorry…” he murmured. you shook your head “it’s okay.” you looked away, your heart still beating a million times per second.

you were relieved when the girls called out your name, pulling you away from him. finally. something about standing there with him too long felt…strange.

you all decided on stopping by one more bar before calling it a night. laughter buzzed around you, arms looped through yours, the city alive in that soft, late-night way.

the boys went off to another bar, heading in the opposite direction. you didn’t look back. but he did.

── .✦

you asked taylor for one of her thc gummies, if you were going to survive this night. that meant being high off your ass.

she laughed, already a little gone herself, and dropped one into your palm without asking questions. “just half,” she warned, but you popped the whole thing in without thinking.

everything felt too loud and too soft all at once. the music, the lights, the people. it all blurred at the edges. your thoughts slowed down, stretched out, and you let them. for once, you didn’t want to overthink.

you didn’t want to feel anything that had to do with him. but even then, in the thick of it, he lingered. in the back of your mind. in the space behind your ribs. in the way he said your name.

you walked over to the dance floor, “we can’t be friends” by ariana grande playing through the speakers. the lights were low, the bass steady in your chest. the dance floor was semi-packed, bodies swaying, drinks in hand, and for the first time in a long time, you let go. freely. like nothing mattered.

denise had come to the bar with you all, before she suddenly dipped. right after taylor told her to just get with steven already. you knew why she left. deep down, taylor loved your brother, even if she tried to play it cool. you could see it in the way she looked at him when she thought no one else noticed.

and in that moment, as you danced under neon lights, it hit you. you were no different. because maybe, just maybe, you’d been hiding how much you loved conrad too.

flashbacks played in your head, quick and sharp between the beats of the music. your breath shortened as you danced, the rhythm suddenly feeling too fast, too much. in frustration, you pulled your hair away from your face, trying to steady yourself. trying to stay here.

but then came the memories, like whiplash you didn’t see coming.

the first time you kissed, both of you laughing too hard to be smooth about it. salty air clung to your skin, and he tasted like something warm and familiar.

running on the beach while it rained, clothes soaked, his hand never letting go of yours. you both looked ridiculous, but it felt perfect.

the first time you had sex. nervous, slow, like neither of you wanted it to end. everything gentle. everything real.

the night he showed up late, breathless, with flowers in his hands and an apology in his eyes. you still remembered what kind. peonies. your favorite. he remembered, too.

you spun, your chest tightening. the lights blurred. your heart ached in that deep, buried place you always tried to ignore. maybe this was what heartbreak felt like when it didn’t look like crying on a bathroom floor or getting drunk until you didn’t feel anything.

you put your hand on your heart, reminding yourself to breathe. in. out. in. out. it was getting harder to stay grounded, the memories crashing over you faster than the music could drown them out.

you leaned in toward belly, muttering something about needing to go. you didn’t wait for a response, just turned and pushed through the crowd, head spinning, heart racing.

she followed. of course she did.

by the time you reached the bathroom, she was right behind you. she stepped in without a word, locking the door behind her.

you leaned over the sink, gripping the edge, eyes staring down at the drain like it could anchor you. your reflection in the mirror was flushed, wild-eyed, not quite you.

“hey,” belly said gently, her voice cutting through the haze. “what’s going on?”

you didn’t answer at first. just stared at the sink, trying to blink back the tears that had been threatening all night. then you nodded, barely.

“i thought i was over it, over him.” you whispered. “i really did.”

belly didn’t say anything. she just reached for your hand, held it in both of hers. you both sat in there until you felt okay to leave, your breath still fast but steady.

you hated yourself for feeling this way, you hated him for having this effect on you, you hated him for leaving. but you hated the way you didn’t hate him. not even a little bit. not even at all.

── .✦

everyone went back to the house, and you told belly you were okay, just needed a walk. so you did exactly that. the sand beneath you felt heavy with each step, your boots dangling from one hand, the other gently holding the necklace conrad gave you.

the waves hit the shore louder now, the sound filling the quiet around you. your heart beat, a little faster, your thoughts all tangled up. you held the necklace tighter, letting it rest in your palm as you walked, the sand dragging at your steps.

up ahead, you spotted someone sitting on the lifeguard stand. even from a distance, you knew who it was. it was him.

you furrowed your brows, the name leaving your lips before you could stop it, carried by the shaky hand “conrad?” your voice was soft, uncertain, shaking. your hair blowing back as the breeze picked up.

he looked up at the sound of your voice, a small smile tugging at his lips. as you got closer, he reached out his hand toward you, the gesture quiet but familiar.

as you reached the base of the stand, you took his hand, letting him steady you as you climbed. each step was careful, your fingers tightening slightly around his.

as you finally made it to the top, you let go of his hand and gave a quiet, “thanks.”

he nodded, then glanced out at the water before looking back at you “sit down?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

you hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod, lips pressed into a thin line as you sat beside him. the wood beneath you was cool, slightly rough. your eyes stayed on the water, watching the waves roll in and out, steady and constant.

he didn’t say anything right away. you could feel his gaze shift to you, watching closely, his eyes tracing the small movements of your hands as they twitched in your lap, like he was trying to read something unspoken.

“how is belly—”

“how is jere—”

you both spoke at the same time, then paused, a soft laugh breaking between you. the kind that came easy, even now.

he tilted his head, nodding for you to go first.

“how’s jere?” you asked, turning to look at him, your voice a little quieter now.

he nodded, turning his head just enough to look at you. “drunk,” he said, nose scrunching as he caught the lingering scent on his shirt.

“smelled it,” you laughed, the sound soft and easy between you.

you looked back out at the water. “and belly’s good. sleeping.”

you stood up slowly, then turned to face him “i should get going. lots of things to do tomorrow.”

the lie slipped out quickly, too easy. you weren’t tired. not even close. but you knew if you stayed, the words you didn’t want to say would come out. things like “i miss you.” and you just couldn’t let that happen. not tonight.

he stood up too, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. your name came out soft and shaky, like he wasn’t sure if saying it was right. then he paused, eyes searching yours “stay. please.”

“conrad…” you started, your voice soft but heavy with everything you wanted to say. you took a small step closer, searching his eyes for something. hope, understanding, maybe an answer.

but before you could finish, he shook his head again, frustration flickering across his face. “you’re confusing me,” he said quietly, his voice raw and honest. “i don’t know what you want anymore.”

there was a pause between you, the weight of those words hanging in the air. you wanted to explain, to tell him how tangled everything felt inside you, how much you wanted to stay but were scared of what that meant.

instead, you just looked down at your hands, twisting the necklace in your fingers, unsure of how to make him understand without breaking everything even more.

you turned away, hurrying down the steps, each one feeling heavier than the last. the wood creaked beneath your feet, but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t. behind you, you heard him following, his footsteps quick, his voice catching up to you.

“wait, just listen, please,” he called out, his tone desperate, cracking at the edges.

but you kept walking, staring straight ahead, heart pounding. because if you turned around now, if you looked at him. really looked at him. you knew you might not leave at all.

“c’mon! this isn’t you.” he yelled, the words raw in his throat, his voice cracking like it couldn’t hold itself together. he looked desperate. hands twitching at his sides, fists half-formed, like he didn’t know what to do with them. he followed you anyway, stumbling through the sand, eyes locked on your back.

you spun around fast. too fast. your eyes were glassy, red, your chest rising and falling like you couldn’t catch your breath.

you were upset. no, you were crushed. because you’d loved him. for so long. you cried for him. every night, every morning, every moment that reminded you he wasn’t there. and after all that time, after all that breaking, you finally, finally rebuilt a life that didn’t need him in it.

and now he was here. again. like nothing happened. like you weren’t shattered once because of him.

“you don’t know me!” your voice cracked, rough and sharp. but still a piece of you, bigger than anything. that piece was lying. he knew you. really knew you. and you knew that.

“you don’t even know me anymore. so don’t—“ you stopped yourself. your hands were shaking. your throat burned.

you took a deep breath, tried to swallow everything you didn’t say “don’t say my name. don’t even talk to me.” your voice was quieter now.

you walked away. the sand shifted under your feet, uneven and heavy, but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t. tears spilled out before you could wipe them away, hot and fast, leaving cold streaks on your cheeks.

your breath hitched, caught somewhere between a sob and a gasp, like your chest didn’t know how to hold it all. your heart sank with every step. because you didn’t mean it.

the words had just come out. sharp, defensive, louder than anything. you didn’t want to push him away. not like that. but it’s what you knew to do.

and now he stood behind you, still, probably watching you disappear again. this time not because he left, but because you did.

and that broke something new inside you.

“fuck… i still love you!” he called out, his voice sharp, cutting through the night like a wave breaking hard on the shore.

your steps faltered, then slowed, the words hitting you before you were ready. you stood there for a second, the wind tugging at your hair, heart thudding in your chest.

then you turned around, fast. “what…” you breathed out, eyes wide, your voice barely above a whisper.

he stood frozen, chest rising and falling like he’d run a mile, like the words had knocked the wind out of him too. his eyes didn’t leave yours, raw and unguarded in a way you hadn’t seen in so long. in a way he kept from everyone. including you.

“i have never not loved you,” he said, voice steady but thick with emotion.

he paused, then lifted his hand, pointing to his chest. “you’ve always been here. right here.” his fingers pressed lightly against his heart, and for a moment, everything around you went quiet. no waves, no wind, just him… and the one thing you’ve always wanted.

you shook your head slowly, eyes stinging, the lump in your throat tightening.

“you don’t mean that,” you said, barely above a whisper. the words slipped out before you could stop them, fragile and cracking at the edges.

you paused, trying to steady your breath, trying to make sense of everything swirling inside you “you push me away,” you continued, voice breaking now, “and now here you are… why?”

you looked at him, searching his face for something real, something that made it make sense. because you didn’t understand how someone who let you go so easily could say they never stopped loving you.

“i don’t know,” he said, voice low and shaking. he took a small step closer, like even being a few feet away from you was too far. “being here with you again… feeling like i had something with you again…”

he paused, eyes locked on yours, his breath catching as the emotion pushed up in his throat.

“if it’s in my head, just tell me,” he added, softer now his eyes shimmered under the moonlight, brimming with tears that spilled out. he looked at you like he was waiting for something that could be the breathe he’s been holding or something that broke everything he worked for.

“it’s not.” you said, eyes avoiding his, gaze drifting out toward the water. the waves were slow tonight, almost lazy, brushing the shore like they had nowhere else to be. you licked your lips, tasting salt and hesitation.

“i’ve been thinking about you.” your voice barely rose above the sound of the ocean. your hands were buried in your leather jacket, fingers twitching like they wanted something to hold onto. your chest heaving up and down.

“and i guess. i’m just… scared.” you laughed under your breath, short, breathless. you were still angry, hurt. but you softened.

you paused. the wind caught your hair, pulled it across your face, but you didn’t move to fix it. you just stood there, heart thudding loud in your chest, staring at the dark edge of the horizon like it might give you an answer. then, softer, almost to yourself:

“i love you too.”

he stood there, taking it in. before grabbing your hand, holding it like it meant something. tight, warm, fingers lacing through yours like they belonged there. he stepped closer, just enough that you could feel the heat of him, the quiet tremble in the space between.

his other hand reached up, careful, like he was afraid you’d pull away. he tucked your hair behind your ear, slow and gentle, fingertips brushing your cheek a little longer than they needed to.

his eyes searched yours, soft and steady. “can i kiss you?” he asked, barely louder than the waves. like the question had weight. like he meant every word.

you nodded, muttering a small “yes.” your breath hitched. it was real. you kept reminding yourself that this wasn’t a dream. but it was enough. enough to make the air shift, to pull him closer.

he leaned in slowly, like giving you time to change your mind, like every inch was a question he was still afraid to ask. his breath brushed your lips first. warm, uncertain. and then he kissed you.

it wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t perfect. it was soft, and a little shaky, and it felt like something breaking open and settling at the same time. his hand stayed in yours, holding tight. like if he let go, the moment might disappear.

you thought you passed out. not really. but something in you flickered out for a second. like the world tilted just slightly, softened around the edges. the kiss felt like walking back into a childhood home. that quiet, aching kind of comfort. familiar in a way that made your chest hurt.

your fingers moved without thinking, slipping up into his hair, finding the nape of his neck. you pulled him closer, like maybe you could press the space between you out of existence.

he exhaled against your lips, like he’d been holding his breath this whole time. his other hand found your waist, hesitant, grounding. the ocean kept whispering behind you, but it felt far away now. like the only thing real was him, and the way he kissed you like he didn’t know how to stop.

this was love. your love. and you knew. that this time you weren’t letting go

[ddixonsfawn]

⤷ ゛LESS ˎˊ˗ part 2

conrad fisher x fem!conklin reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱

part 1.

warnings: angst, anxiety, panic attack, mental health, yearning, conklin reader, mentions of sex/no smut you little freaks, season 3 ep 7, angst with fluff ending, horrible writing

a/n: hi! i love yearning, can’t you tell… i can’t tell if i like the ending. idk but ENJOY!!

tags: @mlt2000

your eyes met. your expressions shifted slightly. softer. he slowed slightly, his smile fading into something familiar.

something perfect.

and then, like waking from a dream, you snapped out of it. looked away too quickly. blinked like it hadn’t happened. like it didn’t mean anything. your chest tightened, just a little.

he walked over to you, his hands still buried deep in his pockets, that same easy sway in his step “bored?” he asked, voice low, a little amused.

you blinked up at him, pausing just long enough to make him wonder if you’d even heard. then “a little, yeah,” you said, squinting your eyes in mock seriousness, a playful tilt to your head.

the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile. like he saw right through you.

and maybe he did. but that wasn’t a bad thing. was it? the thing was, whatever you and conrad were, it changed everything. like someone shifted the ground a little and didn’t bother to tell anyone. suddenly, everything felt tilted. conversations felt different. looks lingered too long. silence stretched wider. words that were cold, but rarely warm.

it wasn’t love, not exactly. or maybe it was, in that quiet, crooked, hard way love sometimes starts. but the truth is, once it began. whatever it was, nothing else quite fit the same way again. it was like fitting into a old pair of shoes, it felt familiar but something was different. he was different.

and that didn’t just scare you, but it intrigued you. deeply. you were different.

“how is it, being with the frat bros?” you joked, smiling lightly. it felt good talking to him again. you felt free, like a weight had been suffocating you for years. until now.

he lifted his hand, gently moving a small strand of hair from your face. the world paused. your breath hitched. he pulled his hand away quickly, shifting a little where he stood.

“sorry…” he murmured. you shook your head “it’s okay.” you looked away, your heart still beating a million times per second.

you were relieved when the girls called out your name, pulling you away from him. finally. something about standing there with him too long felt…strange.

you all decided on stopping by one more bar before calling it a night. laughter buzzed around you, arms looped through yours, the city alive in that soft, late-night way.

the boys went off to another bar, heading in the opposite direction. you didn’t look back. but he did.

── .✦

you asked taylor for one of her thc gummies, if you were going to survive this night. that meant being high off your ass.

she laughed, already a little gone herself, and dropped one into your palm without asking questions. “just half,” she warned, but you popped the whole thing in without thinking.

everything felt too loud and too soft all at once. the music, the lights, the people. it all blurred at the edges. your thoughts slowed down, stretched out, and you let them. for once, you didn’t want to overthink.

you didn’t want to feel anything that had to do with him. but even then, in the thick of it, he lingered. in the back of your mind. in the space behind your ribs. in the way he said your name.

you walked over to the dance floor, “we can’t be friends” by ariana grande playing through the speakers. the lights were low, the bass steady in your chest. the dance floor was semi-packed, bodies swaying, drinks in hand, and for the first time in a long time, you let go. freely. like nothing mattered.

denise had come to the bar with you all, before she suddenly dipped. right after taylor told her to just get with steven already. you knew why she left. deep down, taylor loved your brother, even if she tried to play it cool. you could see it in the way she looked at him when she thought no one else noticed.

and in that moment, as you danced under neon lights, it hit you. you were no different. because maybe, just maybe, you’d been hiding how much you loved conrad too.

flashbacks played in your head, quick and sharp between the beats of the music. your breath shortened as you danced, the rhythm suddenly feeling too fast, too much. in frustration, you pulled your hair away from your face, trying to steady yourself. trying to stay here.

but then came the memories, like whiplash you didn’t see coming.

the first time you kissed, both of you laughing too hard to be smooth about it. salty air clung to your skin, and he tasted like something warm and familiar.

running on the beach while it rained, clothes soaked, his hand never letting go of yours. you both looked ridiculous, but it felt perfect.

the first time you had sex. nervous, slow, like neither of you wanted it to end. everything gentle. everything real.

the night he showed up late, breathless, with flowers in his hands and an apology in his eyes. you still remembered what kind. peonies. your favorite. he remembered, too.

you spun, your chest tightening. the lights blurred. your heart ached in that deep, buried place you always tried to ignore. maybe this was what heartbreak felt like when it didn’t look like crying on a bathroom floor or getting drunk until you didn’t feel anything.

you put your hand on your heart, reminding yourself to breathe. in. out. in. out. it was getting harder to stay grounded, the memories crashing over you faster than the music could drown them out.

you leaned in toward belly, muttering something about needing to go. you didn’t wait for a response, just turned and pushed through the crowd, head spinning, heart racing.

she followed. of course she did.

by the time you reached the bathroom, she was right behind you. she stepped in without a word, locking the door behind her.

you leaned over the sink, gripping the edge, eyes staring down at the drain like it could anchor you. your reflection in the mirror was flushed, wild-eyed, not quite you.

“hey,” belly said gently, her voice cutting through the haze. “what’s going on?”

you didn’t answer at first. just stared at the sink, trying to blink back the tears that had been threatening all night. then you nodded, barely.

“i thought i was over it, over him.” you whispered. “i really did.”

belly didn’t say anything. she just reached for your hand, held it in both of hers. you both sat in there until you felt okay to leave, your breath still fast but steady.

you hated yourself for feeling this way, you hated him for having this effect on you, you hated him for leaving. but you hated the way you didn’t hate him. not even a little bit. not even at all.

── .✦

everyone went back to the house, and you told belly you were okay, just needed a walk. so you did exactly that. the sand beneath you felt heavy with each step, your boots dangling from one hand, the other gently holding the necklace conrad gave you.

the waves hit the shore louder now, the sound filling the quiet around you. your heart beat, a little faster, your thoughts all tangled up. you held the necklace tighter, letting it rest in your palm as you walked, the sand dragging at your steps.

up ahead, you spotted someone sitting on the lifeguard stand. even from a distance, you knew who it was. it was him.

you furrowed your brows, the name leaving your lips before you could stop it, carried by the shaky hand “conrad?” your voice was soft, uncertain, shaking. your hair blowing back as the breeze picked up.

he looked up at the sound of your voice, a small smile tugging at his lips. as you got closer, he reached out his hand toward you, the gesture quiet but familiar.

as you reached the base of the stand, you took his hand, letting him steady you as you climbed. each step was careful, your fingers tightening slightly around his.

as you finally made it to the top, you let go of his hand and gave a quiet, “thanks.”

he nodded, then glanced out at the water before looking back at you “sit down?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

you hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod, lips pressed into a thin line as you sat beside him. the wood beneath you was cool, slightly rough. your eyes stayed on the water, watching the waves roll in and out, steady and constant.

he didn’t say anything right away. you could feel his gaze shift to you, watching closely, his eyes tracing the small movements of your hands as they twitched in your lap, like he was trying to read something unspoken.

“how is belly—”

“how is jere—”

you both spoke at the same time, then paused, a soft laugh breaking between you. the kind that came easy, even now.

he tilted his head, nodding for you to go first.

“how’s jere?” you asked, turning to look at him, your voice a little quieter now.

he nodded, turning his head just enough to look at you. “drunk,” he said, nose scrunching as he caught the lingering scent on his shirt.

“smelled it,” you laughed, the sound soft and easy between you.

you looked back out at the water. “and belly’s good. sleeping.”

you stood up slowly, then turned to face him “i should get going. lots of things to do tomorrow.”

the lie slipped out quickly, too easy. you weren’t tired. not even close. but you knew if you stayed, the words you didn’t want to say would come out. things like “i miss you.” and you just couldn’t let that happen. not tonight.

he stood up too, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. your name came out soft and shaky, like he wasn’t sure if saying it was right. then he paused, eyes searching yours “stay. please.”

“conrad…” you started, your voice soft but heavy with everything you wanted to say. you took a small step closer, searching his eyes for something. hope, understanding, maybe an answer.

but before you could finish, he shook his head again, frustration flickering across his face. “you’re confusing me,” he said quietly, his voice raw and honest. “i don’t know what you want anymore.”

there was a pause between you, the weight of those words hanging in the air. you wanted to explain, to tell him how tangled everything felt inside you, how much you wanted to stay but were scared of what that meant.

instead, you just looked down at your hands, twisting the necklace in your fingers, unsure of how to make him understand without breaking everything even more.

you turned away, hurrying down the steps, each one feeling heavier than the last. the wood creaked beneath your feet, but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t. behind you, you heard him following, his footsteps quick, his voice catching up to you.

“wait, just listen, please,” he called out, his tone desperate, cracking at the edges.

but you kept walking, staring straight ahead, heart pounding. because if you turned around now, if you looked at him. really looked at him. you knew you might not leave at all.

“c’mon! this isn’t you.” he yelled, the words raw in his throat, his voice cracking like it couldn’t hold itself together. he looked desperate. hands twitching at his sides, fists half-formed, like he didn’t know what to do with them. he followed you anyway, stumbling through the sand, eyes locked on your back.

you spun around fast. too fast. your eyes were glassy, red, your chest rising and falling like you couldn’t catch your breath.

you were upset. no, you were crushed. because you’d loved him. for so long. you cried for him. every night, every morning, every moment that reminded you he wasn’t there. and after all that time, after all that breaking, you finally, finally rebuilt a life that didn’t need him in it.

and now he was here. again. like nothing happened. like you weren’t shattered once because of him.

“you don’t know me!” your voice cracked, rough and sharp. but still a piece of you, bigger than anything. that piece was lying. he knew you. really knew you. and you knew that.

“you don’t even know me anymore. so don’t—“ you stopped yourself. your hands were shaking. your throat burned.

you took a deep breath, tried to swallow everything you didn’t say “don’t say my name. don’t even talk to me.” your voice was quieter now.

you walked away. the sand shifted under your feet, uneven and heavy, but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t. tears spilled out before you could wipe them away, hot and fast, leaving cold streaks on your cheeks.

your breath hitched, caught somewhere between a sob and a gasp, like your chest didn’t know how to hold it all. your heart sank with every step. because you didn’t mean it.

the words had just come out. sharp, defensive, louder than anything. you didn’t want to push him away. not like that. but it’s what you knew to do.

and now he stood behind you, still, probably watching you disappear again. this time not because he left, but because you did.

and that broke something new inside you.

“fuck… i still love you!” he called out, his voice sharp, cutting through the night like a wave breaking hard on the shore.

your steps faltered, then slowed, the words hitting you before you were ready. you stood there for a second, the wind tugging at your hair, heart thudding in your chest.

then you turned around, fast. “what…” you breathed out, eyes wide, your voice barely above a whisper.

he stood frozen, chest rising and falling like he’d run a mile, like the words had knocked the wind out of him too. his eyes didn’t leave yours, raw and unguarded in a way you hadn’t seen in so long. in a way he kept from everyone. including you.

“i have never not loved you,” he said, voice steady but thick with emotion.

he paused, then lifted his hand, pointing to his chest. “you’ve always been here. right here.” his fingers pressed lightly against his heart, and for a moment, everything around you went quiet. no waves, no wind, just him… and the one thing you’ve always wanted.

you shook your head slowly, eyes stinging, the lump in your throat tightening.

“you don’t mean that,” you said, barely above a whisper. the words slipped out before you could stop them, fragile and cracking at the edges.

you paused, trying to steady your breath, trying to make sense of everything swirling inside you “you push me away,” you continued, voice breaking now, “and now here you are… why?”

you looked at him, searching his face for something real, something that made it make sense. because you didn’t understand how someone who let you go so easily could say they never stopped loving you.

“i don’t know,” he said, voice low and shaking. he took a small step closer, like even being a few feet away from you was too far. “being here with you again… feeling like i had something with you again…”

he paused, eyes locked on yours, his breath catching as the emotion pushed up in his throat.

“if it’s in my head, just tell me,” he added, softer now his eyes shimmered under the moonlight, brimming with tears that spilled out. he looked at you like he was waiting for something that could be the breathe he’s been holding or something that broke everything he worked for.

“it’s not.” you said, eyes avoiding his, gaze drifting out toward the water. the waves were slow tonight, almost lazy, brushing the shore like they had nowhere else to be. you licked your lips, tasting salt and hesitation.

“i’ve been thinking about you.” your voice barely rose above the sound of the ocean. your hands were buried in your leather jacket, fingers twitching like they wanted something to hold onto. your chest heaving up and down.

“and i guess. i’m just… scared.” you laughed under your breath, short, breathless. you were still angry, hurt. but you softened.

you paused. the wind caught your hair, pulled it across your face, but you didn’t move to fix it. you just stood there, heart thudding loud in your chest, staring at the dark edge of the horizon like it might give you an answer. then, softer, almost to yourself:

“i love you too.”

he stood there, taking it in. before grabbing your hand, holding it like it meant something. tight, warm, fingers lacing through yours like they belonged there. he stepped closer, just enough that you could feel the heat of him, the quiet tremble in the space between.

his other hand reached up, careful, like he was afraid you’d pull away. he tucked your hair behind your ear, slow and gentle, fingertips brushing your cheek a little longer than they needed to.

his eyes searched yours, soft and steady. “can i kiss you?” he asked, barely louder than the waves. like the question had weight. like he meant every word.

you nodded, muttering a small “yes.” your breath hitched. it was real. you kept reminding yourself that this wasn’t a dream. but it was enough. enough to make the air shift, to pull him closer.

he leaned in slowly, like giving you time to change your mind, like every inch was a question he was still afraid to ask. his breath brushed your lips first. warm, uncertain. and then he kissed you.

it wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t perfect. it was soft, and a little shaky, and it felt like something breaking open and settling at the same time. his hand stayed in yours, holding tight. like if he let go, the moment might disappear.

you thought you passed out. not really. but something in you flickered out for a second. like the world tilted just slightly, softened around the edges. the kiss felt like walking back into a childhood home. that quiet, aching kind of comfort. familiar in a way that made your chest hurt.

your fingers moved without thinking, slipping up into his hair, finding the nape of his neck. you pulled him closer, like maybe you could press the space between you out of existence.

he exhaled against your lips, like he’d been holding his breath this whole time. his other hand found your waist, hesitant, grounding. the ocean kept whispering behind you, but it felt far away now. like the only thing real was him, and the way he kissed you like he didn’t know how to stop. if he could stop.

this was what love is. true, unconditional love. and you truly knew that this time, without a doubt, you were absolutely not letting go.

[ddixonsfawn]

˖᯽ ݁˖ CONRAD FISHER !! PART ONE.

DONT WORRY ILL MAKE YOU WORRY.

conrad fisher x fem!conklin reader

warnings: nothing rlly. season 3? some angst, grief, smoking, drinking, swearing, pining.

PART ONE!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

when conrad fisher told a girl he loved her, he meant it. deeply, fiercely, without hesitation. every brush of his fingers, every kiss, every whispered word, all of it careful, all of it real. but he pulled away too. buried his feelings beneath silence. took back what he meant. said the worst thing at the worst time. his eyes impossible to read, his mind loud with a hundred thoughts, his touch suddenly distant.

you were gentle, fierce, but stubborn to the bone. you and conrad were mirrors. holding each thought like it might shatter if spoke. maybe that’s why it never worked out. you both pulled back when it mattered most. the cold, bitter, hard truth? you were scared. scared of breaking him. scared of breaking what the two of you had built with such delicacy.

you had gone to cousins beach every summer. susannah and your mom, laurel, had been best friends since college. and, well… you had been in love with conrad fisher since you were seven and he helped you make raspberry jam for your birthday.

you and conrad fisher dated, once. it ended the way things do when love is real but timing is fast. he pushed you away, shut every door, left you standing there with your heart in your hands, begging him to stay. after that, you made yourself a promise. never again. never let anyone break you the way he did.

you were the oldest, right there with conrad. when things went wrong, it always fell on you. you were the one who had to stay focused, had to be careful, had to carry the weight. it was quiet, constant, and over time, it wore you down.

getting into NYU was your dream, the one thing that kept you going, that made the long nights and early mornings feel worth it. you studied from sun up to sun down, holding onto the hope that one day it would all pay off. and then it did. the acceptance letter came on a quiet afternoon, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself cry. not from sadness, but from finally, finally making it.

── .✦

you drove into cousins beach for the first time in four years. the only sound was the radio humming softly, filling the silence you weren’t ready to break. memories hit you all at once. the sun-drenched afternoons, the salt in your hair, the ice cream place you, steven, belly, conrad, and jeremiah went to every saturday after swimming. it all felt untouched, like the town had been waiting for you to come back.

you were here for belly’s wedding. being the maid of honor meant making sure the summer house was clean, ready, perfect for the bachelorette and bachelor parties. you’d come a day early, just to give yourself enough time to buy everything and set it all up. part of you said it was to stay organized, but deep down, you knew it was also just an excuse to be back, alone, before everything began. before seeing him.

you pulled into the driveway and saw conrad’s car parked out front. your heart sank a little. you turned the engine off, the silence settling heavy around you. for a moment, you just sat there, gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady your breath. it had been years since you last saw him, since that night full of screaming at eachother, slammed doors, and him walking away without looking back. and now, here he was. here you were.

you opened your car door before slamming it slightly. you grabbed your bags and walked toward the front door, unlocking it with your key and slipping quietly inside. the house was still. too still. everything looked the same, like time had paused the moment susannah died. it smelled like salt water and her scent. like summer and grief tangled together.

you walked into the kitchen before stopping in your tracks. there he was, sitting at the table, eyes down, reading something you couldn’t quite make out from where you stood. your heart lurched. your throat went dry. the air felt heavier now, like the house itself was holding its breath. you started to step back, unsure, but then his voice cut through the silence.

“hey,” he said.

you closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again. “hi.” you said softly, the word barely above a whisper, hanging heavy in the air.

“sorry,” you added, your voice a little steadier now. “i didn’t know anyone was here…”

he quickly shook his head. “no, it’s okay.” his eyes flicked to the bags still clutched in your hands.

“do you need help?” he asked, sitting up a little straighter, his voice softer now, careful in a way that made your chest ache.

you smiled quickly “i got it. nice seeing you,” you said, stumbling over the words like they tasted wrong in your mouth. you didn’t wait for a response. just turned and made your way upstairs, your footsteps quiet, but your heart pounding loud in your chest. so loud that he probably heard.

opening your childhood bedroom, you shut the door behind you a little too fast, the click of it echoing in the silence.

“shit,” you muttered to yourself, the word barely escaping your lips.

you dropped your bags by the bed and sat down slowly, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. the light pink floral wallpaper wrapped around you like a memory, faded but still warm. the room smelled like the ocean air and that old perfume susannah gave you.

── .✦

a couple hours had passed. the sun was setting, casting a warm orange and pink glow across your bedroom walls, softening everything it touched. you hadn’t eaten since 8 a.m. the hunger setting in.

with a quiet sigh, you sat up, brushing the hair from your face. you made your way downstairs, each step creaking beneath you. but as you neared the kitchen, your footsteps slowed. something told you he might still be there. and he was. except now, he was cooking.

the soft sizzle of something in the pan filled the air, mixing with the smell of garlic and butter warm, grounding, painfully domestic. he stood at the stove, back to you, sleeves rolled up, his hair a little messier than before. the kitchen lights casted a soft light around him, and for a second, it didn’t feel like years had passed. it felt like one of those late summer nights, when everything was still okay.

you stood at the edge of the room, unsure whether to say something or turn around. he hadn’t noticed you yet. his movements were slow, familiar.

your stomach growled again, little louder this time, and his head turned slightly at the sound. he glanced over his shoulder, eyes meeting yours, unreadable as always.

“you’re still here.” he said, voice calm, not surprised.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat before responding “yeah. i got hungry.”

he gave a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes “i made enough for two.” your heart warmed, but you quickly shut the stirring of feelings down “thanks.” you said quietly.

you walked towards the kitchen, sitting on the chairs that sat near the counter. watching him quietly. the soft hum of the fridge filled the silence, broken only by the occasional clink of a glass or the shuffle of his feet. he didn’t look up, but you could tell he knew you were there.

the air between you held something, unspoken, heavy. still, you said nothing. just watched.

he finished cooking. wiping his hands, you sat up, standing before walking towards the sink. washing the dishes. he paused for a moment, eyes on your back, then turned away, quiet. the water ran warm over your fingers, soap slipping through your hands. it was a small thing, cleaning up, but it felt like more. something in the way the silence settled again, thick and familiar.

he grabbed the plates of food, taking them to the table, as you finished with the last dish. you turned the water off, quickly drying your hands. before making your way to the kitchen table. he was already seated, eyes low, fingers lightly tapping against the edge of his plate. you pulled out the chair across from him, the legs scraping softly against the floor, and sat down without a word.

“thank you.” you said, looking up from your plate before taking a bite, he nodded. the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, barely there, but enough. the food was warm, simple, comforting, like the quiet that stretched between you both. no need to fill it, it wasn’t a bad silence. just the sound of forks against ceramic and the soft rhythm of chewing, steady and slow.

── .✦

after dinner, you both cleaned up. you cleaning the table, while he cleaned the kitchen. “how’s college?” he asked. his voice was casual, but there was a weight behind it, like he wasn’t just asking to ask. you paused, wiping a spot on the table a little longer than necessary. “it’s fine,” you said, not looking up. the air stretched thin, like he was waiting for more, but didn’t want to press. the clatter of a pan in the sink filled the space instead.

you pressed your lips into a thin line before speaking. “how are you?”

he didn’t answer right away, just kept rinsing a plate, eyes focused on the sink like it held something more important than your question.

“i’m alright,” he said finally, voice low.

you weren’t sure if it was true, but you didn’t push. the truth was you missed him. his face, his touch, his voice. it didn’t matter how many years apart from him. the feeling never changed. it stayed steady, buried beneath everyday moments, like this one, with dishes and silence and small talk trying to cover something deeper. you glanced at him, wondering if he felt it too, or if time had softened the edges only for you.

“i’m slumped, good night.” you said, finishing up. before turning to him, smiling softly. he looked over his shoulder, a hint of something flickering in his eyes, tiredness, maybe, or something quieter.

“good night,” he replied, voice gentle. you lingered for a second longer than you meant to, then turned away, footsteps soft against the wooden floor as you made your way down the hall. behind you, the kitchen light hummed, still on.

── .✦

the next morning, the sun flickered through the see through curtains. it was 7:30am, and everyone was coming at 12:45 pm for the bachelor and bachelorette parties. leaving you with a couple hours of preparation, and enough time to clean. the house was quiet, still holding the calm of early morning.

you sat up slowly, letting the light warm your face, before pulling the covers back and getting out of bed. today would be long. busy. loud. but for now, it was just you, the quiet, and a to-do list waiting downstairs.

it was now 11:27am, the house was tidy, the decorations set up perfectly, belly had shown up early, helping you before she spoke up. “how is it?” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion before she continued. “being here with conrad.”

you paused, fingers stilling on the stack of napkins in your hand. the question sat heavy in the air, not harsh, just honest.

“it’s… weird,” you admitted after a moment. “familiar, but not the same.”

belly nodded, not pressing, just listening. she always knew that you were deeply, deeply inlove with conrad fisher. and she always knew that she was inlove with jeremiah fisher. what were the odds.

“i don’t know what i expected,” you added quietly. “he’s still him. but he seems different, more happier.”

she nodded. “try talking to him.” she shrugged, her tone light but knowing. before you could respond, the back door creaked open.

he stepped in, sunlight trailing behind him, a faint breeze following like it didn’t want to let him go. his eyes scanned the room briefly before landing on you.

“hey,” he said, casual, like nothing had changed.

your heart picked up, just slightly. belly glanced between you two, then quietly excused herself to the other room. you were alone with him again.

“hey.” you replied, before cleaning your sweaty hands. blushing softly. he leaned against the counter, watching you with that quiet gaze of his, the one that always seemed to see a little too much.

“place looks good,” he said, nodding toward the decorations. “you’ve been busy.”

you gave a small smile, still focused on drying your hands. “yeah… wanted it to be nice.”

he hummed in response, before the sound of loud noises screaming “jellyfish” filled the house as everyone came in. the door swung open, laughter spilling into the room like a wave crashing the shore.

bags dropped, shoes kicked off, voices overlapping. just like that, the quiet moment between you and conrad dissolving into chaos.

steven came up to you , hugging you quickly. before he pulled back, ruffing your hair as everyone soon came in.

belly reappeared with a grin, mouthing saved by the bell as she brushed past you. you let out a soft airy laugh, stepping aside as the house filled with energy, bodies moving in every direction.

but even in the noise, you could still feel conrad’s eyes on you. just for a second longer. god you just wished everything was the same.

as everyone got introduced with one another, you finally met anika, redbird, and some other friends of belly and jeremiah. they immediately started smoking, laughing like they owned the place. you shifted uncomfortably, the scent already clinging to the air. this was susannah’s house, not a frat house. it felt wrong.

you opened your mouth, paused, unsure if it was your place, then blurted it out.

“hey. can you not..smoke in here?”

the room quieted just enough for your voice to land. a few heads turned. redbird raised an eyebrow, the joint halfway to his lips.

“it’s just… this was susannah’s house,” you added, softer now, but firm. “can you take it outside?”

there was a beat of silence, then anika gave a half shrug. “yeah, alright.” they shuffled toward the back door, grumbling under their breath, but they went.

you didn’t look up, you didn’t have to. you just knew conrad lingered in the kitchen, flexing his fingers nervously, like he always did before he spoke.

“thanks.” he smiled. the word was quiet, but it settled into you like something warm. you glanced toward him, just for a second, catching the way his eyes softened at you. genuine, familiar.

“someone had to say it,” you mumbled, shrugging, trying to play it off. but your heart was still thudding. you weren’t sure if it was the fact the smell of weed still lingered or the worst, that he still lingered.

he nodded, stepping a little closer, like he might say something else. but then someone called his name from the other room, and the moment slipped away again.

still, his smile lingered. and so did the way it made you feel.

you were never truly over him.

── .✦

you, belly, taylor, and anika all got ready later that night. the room buzzed with music, makeup brushes, and the occasional burst of laughter. your red dress clung in all the right places, bold against your skin, and your black boots gave the outfit just enough edge. your hair was slightly curled, soft waves falling past your shoulders, framing your face with a kind of effortlessness you rarely felt.

you thought it was too much. the dress taylor gave you was a little bit more her than you—tight in a way you weren’t used to, a little louder, a little bolder. it hugged your body, turned heads before you even stepped out the door, and while the others cheered you on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were playing dress-up in someone else’s confidence.

you tugged at the hem slightly, glancing at yourself in the mirror again. “i don’t know,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

taylor caught it immediately. “don’t start,” she said, walking over and fixing your strap like it was nothing. “you look hot. just own it.”

you gave a small, uneasy smile. belly chimed in from behind, “it’s different, yeah, but it still looks like you. just… the version of you that’s finally letting go a little.”

you didn’t say anything, but her words stuck. maybe it was okay to be a little unstuck up. maybe it was okay to be seen.

you grabbed an old leather jacket you had sitting in your closet, wrapping it around yourself. it grounded you a bit, familiar, broken in, something that still felt like you. the dress was bold, the boots louder, but the jacket… the jacket brought it all back down.

you turned to belly, your eyes softening as you looked at her. she was laughing at something taylor said, cheeks flushed, hair perfectly curled, a glow about her that came from more than just makeup or excitement.

in two days, she would be married. grown up. stepping into something real and lasting.

and maybe that was what you needed in order to let go of the older sibling role. to stop hovering. to stop protecting. to stop clinging to the version of her who used to run barefoot across the beach calling your name.

as everyone finished their makeup and hair, you all walked downstairs, heels clicking softly against the floor, perfume trailing in the air behind you. the energy had shifted, more fun now, more real. belly was glowing, taylor was hyped, anika was already texting someone, and you… you felt something settle in your chest. not nerves exactly. maybe anticipation.

everyone had agreed to go their separate ways tonight. the girls and the boys. bachelor and bachelorette parties.

the guys were already by the door, jackets on, voices overlapping with plans you only half heard. jeremiah was grinning, steven was pretending to be cooler than he was, and conrad… conrad was quiet, eyes drifting your way when he thought no one would notice.

you caught it. you noticed everything he did. you didn’t react. just looked away with the smallest smile. that he also caught.

“alright, bitches,” taylor said, clapping her hands. “let’s have fun.” belly laughed, looping her arm through yours. “not too much,” she said.

you let yourself be pulled forward, the night stretching out ahead like a story waiting to be written. behind you, you felt conrad watching. but you didn’t look back. not yet.

── .✦

the bar was crowded, packed shoulder to shoulder with bodies swaying to the beat of some overplayed song. lights flashed dimly overhead, and the air was thick with sweat, perfume, and the sharp bite of alcohol. the girls pushed through the crowd, laughter bubbling behind you, but you were focused, weaving your way toward the bar like it was a mission.

“excuse me,” you muttered, again and again, slipping past strangers who barely noticed. probably said it fifty times already. no one cared.

you finally made it to the counter, palms slightly damp, pulling your phone from your jacket pocket. you had agreed to order and pay for the first round of drinks. your idea, actually. a way to make the night feel like a celebration and not just a countdown.

the bartender finally looked your way. “what can i get you?”

you spoke over the music “ten tequila shots, please.”

he nodded, disappearing into the blur of bottles and glasses. behind you, the girls were already claiming a small corner of the bar, shouting over the music, living in the moment.

you exhaled slowly, letting yourself lean into the bar, red dress warm under your jacket, heart beating a little faster than it needed to.

the order came in after a couple of minutes, the bartender sliding the drinks onto a tray with a nod. you thanked him, carefully balancing the weight as you turned and made your way back through the crowd.

you found the girls tucked into a corner near a high table, already laughing about something, cheeks flushed from the heat and the noise. belly reached for her drink as you set the tray down, taylor immediately going for the tequila, and anika pulling out her phone to film the moment.

“alright,” taylor grinned, lifting a shot glass. “a shot for every body you’ve had.”

groans and cheers followed. belly turned beet red, covering her face. anika laughed and raised three fingers without shame. taylor had two, maybe three, you couldn’t remember exactly.

you hesitated.

then picked up one shot. just one.

the only name that came to mind was his. conrad.

it felt strange, taking a shot in his name, as if it was some kind of quiet confession. but you did it anyway. the burn down your throat wasn’t nearly as strong as the ache in your chest.

you smiled like it didn’t mean anything. but it did. and part of you knew he’d always be the only one you’d raise that glass for.

the night faded quickly, the music becoming background noise, the drinks going down easier than they should’ve. you and the girls ordered another round, tipsy laughter echoing between you as the bar got louder, blurrier, a little too warm.

at some point, anika leaned over the table, eyes glassy and grin lazy. “okay, i need candy,” she declared, dragging out the word like it was sacred. “like right now. i’m so serious.”

you blinked at her, confused for a second, until taylor held up an empty little zip bag with a smug smile. “gummies,” she mouthed.

anika groaned, flopping dramatically onto your shoulder. “i want sour patch kids or i’m gonna die.”

you laughed, shaking your head as you downed the last sip of your drink. “alright, candy run it is.”

the decision was made. the bar was left behind in a blur of flashing lights and echoing bass, and the four of you stumbled out into the night, heels clicking on pavement, jackets wrapped tight against the breeze, laughter echoing down the street in search of something sweet.

you all walked to the nearest candy store, the air cool against your skin, city lights casting soft glows over the sidewalk. taylor and belly walked ahead, arms looped together, giggling about something you couldn’t quite hear. you and anika trailed behind, laughing over something dumb. probably a joke that wouldn’t make sense in the morning.

then the group stopped, standing in front of the candy store, neon lights buzzing quietly above the windows. anika walking in.

you pulled out your phone, screen glowing in your hand. 10:46pm. you stared at the time for a moment too long.

you always wondered if conrad would just… appear. like he had a sixth sense for when you needed him most. like he could slip into your life without warning. quiet, unannounced, but always right on time.

he had before.

when your bike broke down on the side of the road, he stayed by your side, helping you fix it. when you cried over a failed test, he sat with you in the library for hours, walking you through every concept.

when you said you were fine, but he somehow knew you weren’t.

and now, here you were. standing under buzzing lights, surrounded by laughter and candy and blurry thoughts, overthinking every word the two of you had exchanged this weekend. every glance that lingered too long. every silence that felt like it meant something.

you looked up from your phone, half-expecting the night to bend and make room for him again. and there he was.

walking with the group of guys, just a few storefronts away, laughing at something redbird said, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, head tilted slightly down like he didn’t want to be noticed. but you noticed. instantly.

your breath caught, just for a second. the noise around you faded, the laughter, the candy store lights, even anika’s voice beside you asking for cash. it all dulled, like someone had turned the volume down on everything but him.

he looked up, maybe by chance. maybe not.

your eyes met. your expressions shifted slightly. softer. he slowed slightly, his smile fading into something familiar.

something perfect.



[ddixonsfawn]

writing part two and it’ll hopefully be the last part!! if anyone has requests lmk!!

[ddixonsfawn]

⤷ ゛LESS ˎˊ˗

conrad fisher x fem!conklin reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱

warnings: nothing rlly. season 3? some angst, grief, smoking, drinking, swearing, pining, yearning.

writing is so terrible, this was my first fic ever written im so sorry :(

PART 2!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

when conrad fisher told a girl he loved her, he meant it. deeply, fiercely, without hesitation. every brush of his fingers, every kiss, every whispered word, all of it careful, all of it real. but he pulled away too. buried his feelings beneath silence. took back what he meant. said the worst thing at the worst time. his eyes impossible to read, his mind loud with a hundred thoughts, his touch suddenly distant.

you were gentle, fierce, but stubborn to the bone. you and conrad were mirrors. holding each thought like it might shatter if spoke. maybe that’s why it never worked out. you both pulled back when it mattered most. the cold, bitter, hard truth? you were scared. scared of breaking him. scared of breaking what the two of you had built with such delicacy.

you had gone to cousins beach every summer. susannah and your mom, laurel, had been best friends since college. and, well… you had been in love with conrad fisher since you were seven and he helped you make raspberry jam for your birthday.

you and conrad fisher dated, once. it ended the way things do when love is real but timing is fast. he pushed you away, shut every door, left you standing there with your heart in your hands, begging him to stay. after that, you made yourself a promise. never again. never let anyone break you the way he did.

you were the oldest, right there with conrad. when things went wrong, it always fell on you. you were the one who had to stay focused, had to be careful, had to carry the weight. it was quiet, constant, and over time, it wore you down.

getting into NYU was your dream, the one thing that kept you going, that made the long nights and early mornings feel worth it. you studied from sun up to sun down, holding onto the hope that one day it would all pay off. and then it did. the acceptance letter came on a quiet afternoon, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself cry. not from sadness, but from finally, finally making it.

── .✦

you drove into cousins beach for the first time in four years. the only sound was the radio humming softly, filling the silence you weren’t ready to break. memories hit you all at once. the sun-drenched afternoons, the salt in your hair, the ice cream place you, steven, belly, conrad, and jeremiah went to every saturday after swimming. it all felt untouched, like the town had been waiting for you to come back.

you were here for belly’s wedding. being the maid of honor meant making sure the summer house was clean, ready, perfect for the bachelorette and bachelor parties. you’d come a day early, just to give yourself enough time to buy everything and set it all up. part of you said it was to stay organized, but deep down, you knew it was also just an excuse to be back, alone, before everything began. before seeing him.

you pulled into the driveway and saw conrad’s car parked out front. your heart sank a little. you turned the engine off, the silence settling heavy around you. for a moment, you just sat there, gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady your breath. it had been years since you last saw him, since that night full of screaming at eachother, slammed doors, and him walking away without looking back. and now, here he was. here you were.

you opened your car door before slamming it slightly. you grabbed your bags and walked toward the front door, unlocking it with your key and slipping quietly inside. the house was still. too still. everything looked the same, like time had paused the moment susannah died. it smelled like salt water and her scent. like summer and grief tangled together.

you walked into the kitchen before stopping in your tracks. there he was, sitting at the table, eyes down, reading something you couldn’t quite make out from where you stood. your heart lurched. your throat went dry. the air felt heavier now, like the house itself was holding its breath. you started to step back, unsure, but then his voice cut through the silence.

“hey,” he said.

you closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again. “hi.” you said softly, the word barely above a whisper, hanging heavy in the air.

“sorry,” you added, your voice a little steadier now. “i didn’t know anyone was here…”

he quickly shook his head. “no, it’s okay.” his eyes flicked to the bags still clutched in your hands.

“do you need help?” he asked, sitting up a little straighter, his voice softer now, careful in a way that made your chest ache.

you smiled quickly “i got it. nice seeing you,” you said, stumbling over the words like they tasted wrong in your mouth. you didn’t wait for a response. just turned and made your way upstairs, your footsteps quiet, but your heart pounding loud in your chest. so loud that he probably heard.

opening your childhood bedroom, you shut the door behind you a little too fast, the click of it echoing in the silence.

“shit,” you muttered to yourself, the word barely escaping your lips.

you dropped your bags by the bed and sat down slowly, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. the light pink floral wallpaper wrapped around you like a memory, faded but still warm. the room smelled like the ocean air and that old perfume susannah gave you.

── .✦

a couple hours had passed. the sun was setting, casting a warm orange and pink glow across your bedroom walls, softening everything it touched. you hadn’t eaten since 8 a.m. the hunger setting in.

with a quiet sigh, you sat up, brushing the hair from your face. you made your way downstairs, each step creaking beneath you. but as you neared the kitchen, your footsteps slowed. something told you he might still be there. and he was. except now, he was cooking.

the soft sizzle of something in the pan filled the air, mixing with the smell of garlic and butter warm, grounding, painfully domestic. he stood at the stove, back to you, sleeves rolled up, his hair a little messier than before. the kitchen lights casted a soft light around him, and for a second, it didn’t feel like years had passed. it felt like one of those late summer nights, when everything was still okay.

you stood at the edge of the room, unsure whether to say something or turn around. he hadn’t noticed you yet. his movements were slow, familiar.

your stomach growled again, little louder this time, and his head turned slightly at the sound. he glanced over his shoulder, eyes meeting yours, unreadable as always.

“you’re still here.” he said, voice calm, not surprised.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat before responding “yeah. i got hungry.”

he gave a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes “i made enough for two.” your heart warmed, but you quickly shut the stirring of feelings down “thanks.” you said quietly.

you walked towards the kitchen, sitting on the chairs that sat near the counter. watching him quietly. the soft hum of the fridge filled the silence, broken only by the occasional clink of a glass or the shuffle of his feet. he didn’t look up, but you could tell he knew you were there.

the air between you held something, unspoken, heavy. still, you said nothing. just watched.

he finished cooking. wiping his hands, you sat up, standing before walking towards the sink. washing the dishes. he paused for a moment, eyes on your back, then turned away, quiet. the water ran warm over your fingers, soap slipping through your hands. it was a small thing, cleaning up, but it felt like more. something in the way the silence settled again, thick and familiar.

he grabbed the plates of food, taking them to the table, as you finished with the last dish. you turned the water off, quickly drying your hands. before making your way to the kitchen table. he was already seated, eyes low, fingers lightly tapping against the edge of his plate. you pulled out the chair across from him, the legs scraping softly against the floor, and sat down without a word.

“thank you.” you said, looking up from your plate before taking a bite, he nodded. the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, barely there, but enough. the food was warm, simple, comforting, like the quiet that stretched between you both. no need to fill it, it wasn’t a bad silence. just the sound of forks against ceramic and the soft rhythm of chewing, steady and slow.

── .✦

after dinner, you both cleaned up. you cleaning the table, while he cleaned the kitchen. “how’s college?” he asked. his voice was casual, but there was a weight behind it, like he wasn’t just asking to ask. you paused, wiping a spot on the table a little longer than necessary. “it’s fine,” you said, not looking up. the air stretched thin, like he was waiting for more, but didn’t want to press. the clatter of a pan in the sink filled the space instead.

you pressed your lips into a thin line before speaking. “how are you?”

he didn’t answer right away, just kept rinsing a plate, eyes focused on the sink like it held something more important than your question.

“i’m alright,” he said finally, voice low.

you weren’t sure if it was true, but you didn’t push. the truth was you missed him. his face, his touch, his voice. it didn’t matter how many years apart from him. the feeling never changed. it stayed steady, buried beneath everyday moments, like this one, with dishes and silence and small talk trying to cover something deeper. you glanced at him, wondering if he felt it too, or if time had softened the edges only for you.

“i’m slumped, good night.” you said, finishing up. before turning to him, smiling softly. he looked over his shoulder, a hint of something flickering in his eyes, tiredness, maybe, or something quieter.

“good night,” he replied, voice gentle. you lingered for a second longer than you meant to, then turned away, footsteps soft against the wooden floor as you made your way down the hall. behind you, the kitchen light hummed, still on.

── .✦

the next morning, the sun flickered through the see through curtains. it was 7:30am, and everyone was coming at 12:45 pm for the bachelor and bachelorette parties. leaving you with a couple hours of preparation, and enough time to clean. the house was quiet, still holding the calm of early morning.

you sat up slowly, letting the light warm your face, before pulling the covers back and getting out of bed. today would be long. busy. loud. but for now, it was just you, the quiet, and a to-do list waiting downstairs.

it was now 11:27am, the house was tidy, the decorations set up perfectly, belly had shown up early, helping you before she spoke up. “how is it?” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion before she continued. “being here with conrad.”

you paused, fingers stilling on the stack of napkins in your hand. the question sat heavy in the air, not harsh, just honest.

“it’s… weird,” you admitted after a moment. “familiar, but not the same.”

belly nodded, not pressing, just listening. she always knew that you were deeply, deeply inlove with conrad fisher. and she always knew that she was inlove with jeremiah fisher. what were the odds.

“i don’t know what i expected,” you added quietly. “he’s still him. but he seems different, more happier.”

she nodded. “try talking to him.” she shrugged, her tone light but knowing. before you could respond, the back door creaked open.

he stepped in, sunlight trailing behind him, a faint breeze following like it didn’t want to let him go. his eyes scanned the room briefly before landing on you.

“hey,” he said, casual, like nothing had changed.

your heart picked up, just slightly. belly glanced between you two, then quietly excused herself to the other room. you were alone with him again.

“hey.” you replied, before cleaning your sweaty hands. blushing softly. he leaned against the counter, watching you with that quiet gaze of his, the one that always seemed to see a little too much.

“place looks good,” he said, nodding toward the decorations. “you’ve been busy.”

you gave a small smile, still focused on drying your hands. “yeah… wanted it to be nice.”

he hummed in response, before the sound of loud noises screaming “jellyfish” filled the house as everyone came in. the door swung open, laughter spilling into the room like a wave crashing the shore.

bags dropped, shoes kicked off, voices overlapping. just like that, the quiet moment between you and conrad dissolving into chaos.

steven came up to you , hugging you quickly. before he pulled back, ruffing your hair as everyone soon came in.

belly reappeared with a grin, mouthing saved by the bell as she brushed past you. you let out a soft airy laugh, stepping aside as the house filled with energy, bodies moving in every direction.

but even in the noise, you could still feel conrad’s eyes on you. just for a second longer. god you just wished everything was the same.

as everyone got introduced with one another, you finally met anika, redbird, and some other friends of belly and jeremiah. they immediately started smoking, laughing like they owned the place. you shifted uncomfortably, the scent already clinging to the air. this was susannah’s house, not a frat house. it felt wrong.

you opened your mouth, paused, unsure if it was your place, then blurted it out.

“hey. can you not..smoke in here?”

the room quieted just enough for your voice to land. a few heads turned. redbird raised an eyebrow, the joint halfway to his lips.

“it’s just… this was susannah’s house,” you added, softer now, but firm. “can you take it outside?”

there was a beat of silence, then anika gave a half shrug. “yeah, alright.” they shuffled toward the back door, grumbling under their breath, but they went.

you didn’t look up, you didn’t have to. you just knew conrad lingered in the kitchen, flexing his fingers nervously, like he always did before he spoke.

“thanks.” he smiled. the word was quiet, but it settled into you like something warm. you glanced toward him, just for a second, catching the way his eyes softened at you. genuine, familiar.

“someone had to say it,” you mumbled, shrugging, trying to play it off. but your heart was still thudding. you weren’t sure if it was the fact the smell of weed still lingered or the worst, that he still lingered.

he nodded, stepping a little closer, like he might say something else. but then someone called his name from the other room, and the moment slipped away again.

still, his smile lingered. and so did the way it made you feel.

you were never truly over him.

── .✦

you, belly, taylor, and anika all got ready later that night. the room buzzed with music, makeup brushes, and the occasional burst of laughter. your red dress clung in all the right places, bold against your skin, and your black boots gave the outfit just enough edge. your hair was slightly curled, soft waves falling past your shoulders, framing your face with a kind of effortlessness you rarely felt.

you thought it was too much. the dress taylor gave you was a little bit more her than you—tight in a way you weren’t used to, a little louder, a little bolder. it hugged your body, turned heads before you even stepped out the door, and while the others cheered you on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were playing dress-up in someone else’s confidence.

you tugged at the hem slightly, glancing at yourself in the mirror again. “i don’t know,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

taylor caught it immediately. “don’t start,” she said, walking over and fixing your strap like it was nothing. “you look hot. just own it.”

you gave a small, uneasy smile. belly chimed in from behind, “it’s different, yeah, but it still looks like you. just… the version of you that’s finally letting go a little.”

you didn’t say anything, but her words stuck. maybe it was okay to be a little unstuck up. maybe it was okay to be seen.

you grabbed an old leather jacket you had sitting in your closet, wrapping it around yourself. it grounded you a bit, familiar, broken in, something that still felt like you. the dress was bold, the boots louder, but the jacket… the jacket brought it all back down.

you turned to belly, your eyes softening as you looked at her. she was laughing at something taylor said, cheeks flushed, hair perfectly curled, a glow about her that came from more than just makeup or excitement.

in two days, she would be married. grown up. stepping into something real and lasting.

and maybe that was what you needed in order to let go of the older sibling role. to stop hovering. to stop protecting. to stop clinging to the version of her who used to run barefoot across the beach calling your name.

as everyone finished their makeup and hair, you all walked downstairs, heels clicking softly against the floor, perfume trailing in the air behind you. the energy had shifted, more fun now, more real. belly was glowing, taylor was hyped, anika was already texting someone, and you… you felt something settle in your chest. not nerves exactly. maybe anticipation.

everyone had agreed to go their separate ways tonight. the girls and the boys. bachelor and bachelorette parties.

the guys were already by the door, jackets on, voices overlapping with plans you only half heard. jeremiah was grinning, steven was pretending to be cooler than he was, and conrad… conrad was quiet, eyes drifting your way when he thought no one would notice.

you caught it. you noticed everything he did. you didn’t react. just looked away with the smallest smile. that he also caught.

“alright, bitches,” taylor said, clapping her hands. “let’s have fun.” belly laughed, looping her arm through yours. “not too much,” she said.

you let yourself be pulled forward, the night stretching out ahead like a story waiting to be written. behind you, you felt conrad watching. but you didn’t look back. not yet.

── .✦

the bar was crowded, packed shoulder to shoulder with bodies swaying to the beat of some overplayed song. lights flashed dimly overhead, and the air was thick with sweat, perfume, and the sharp bite of alcohol. the girls pushed through the crowd, laughter bubbling behind you, but you were focused, weaving your way toward the bar like it was a mission.

“excuse me,” you muttered, again and again, slipping past strangers who barely noticed. probably said it fifty times already. no one cared.

you finally made it to the counter, palms slightly damp, pulling your phone from your jacket pocket. you had agreed to order and pay for the first round of drinks. your idea, actually. a way to make the night feel like a celebration and not just a countdown.

the bartender finally looked your way. “what can i get you?”

you spoke over the music “ten tequila shots, please.”

he nodded, disappearing into the blur of bottles and glasses. behind you, the girls were already claiming a small corner of the bar, shouting over the music, living in the moment.

you exhaled slowly, letting yourself lean into the bar, red dress warm under your jacket, heart beating a little faster than it needed to.

the order came in after a couple of minutes, the bartender sliding the drinks onto a tray with a nod. you thanked him, carefully balancing the weight as you turned and made your way back through the crowd.

you found the girls tucked into a corner near a high table, already laughing about something, cheeks flushed from the heat and the noise. belly reached for her drink as you set the tray down, taylor immediately going for the tequila, and anika pulling out her phone to film the moment.

“alright,” taylor grinned, lifting a shot glass. “a shot for every body you’ve had.”

groans and cheers followed. belly turned beet red, covering her face. anika laughed and raised three fingers without shame. taylor had two, maybe three, you couldn’t remember exactly.

you hesitated.

then picked up one shot. just one.

the only name that came to mind was his. conrad.

it felt strange, taking a shot in his name, as if it was some kind of quiet confession. but you did it anyway. the burn down your throat wasn’t nearly as strong as the ache in your chest.

you smiled like it didn’t mean anything. but it did. and part of you knew he’d always be the only one you’d raise that glass for.

the night faded quickly, the music becoming background noise, the drinks going down easier than they should’ve. you and the girls ordered another round, tipsy laughter echoing between you as the bar got louder, blurrier, a little too warm.

at some point, anika leaned over the table, eyes glassy and grin lazy. “okay, i need candy,” she declared, dragging out the word like it was sacred. “like right now. i’m so serious.”

you blinked at her, confused for a second, until taylor held up an empty little zip bag with a smug smile. “gummies,” she mouthed.

anika groaned, flopping dramatically onto your shoulder. “i want sour patch kids or i’m gonna die.”

you laughed, shaking your head as you downed the last sip of your drink. “alright, candy run it is.”

the decision was made. the bar was left behind in a blur of flashing lights and echoing bass, and the four of you stumbled out into the night, heels clicking on pavement, jackets wrapped tight against the breeze, laughter echoing down the street in search of something sweet.

you all walked to the nearest candy store, the air cool against your skin, city lights casting soft glows over the sidewalk. taylor and belly walked ahead, arms looped together, giggling about something you couldn’t quite hear. you and anika trailed behind, laughing over something dumb. probably a joke that wouldn’t make sense in the morning.

then the group stopped, standing in front of the candy store, neon lights buzzing quietly above the windows. anika walking in.

you pulled out your phone, screen glowing in your hand. 10:46pm. you stared at the time for a moment too long.

you always wondered if conrad would just… appear. like he had a sixth sense for when you needed him most. like he could slip into your life without warning. quiet, unannounced, but always right on time.

he had before.

when your bike broke down on the side of the road, he stayed by your side, helping you fix it. when you cried over a failed test, he sat with you in the library for hours, walking you through every concept.

when you said you were fine, but he somehow knew you weren’t.

and now, here you were. standing under buzzing lights, surrounded by laughter and candy and blurry thoughts, overthinking every word the two of you had exchanged this weekend. every glance that lingered too long. every silence that felt like it meant something.

you looked up from your phone, half-expecting the night to bend and make room for him again. and there he was.

walking with the group of guys, just a few storefronts away, laughing at something redbird said, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, head tilted slightly down like he didn’t want to be noticed. but you noticed. instantly.

your breath caught, just for a second. the noise around you faded, the laughter, the candy store lights, even anika’s voice beside you asking for cash. it all dulled, like someone had turned the volume down on everything but him.

he looked up, maybe by chance. maybe not.

your eyes met. your expressions shifted slightly. softer. he slowed slightly, his smile fading into something familiar.

something perfect.