Conrad X Reader Fluff - Tumblr Posts

conrad fisher: tsitp
series:
1999: part one
1999: part two
1999: part three
1999: part four - final
1999 part three
another long one LMAO SORRY💀💀
this one’s a trip so get ur snacks, drinks and one direction pillows and blankets from 2014 because this one’s a trip🤭🤭
lmk how we feel abt this part and ur fav moments, enjoy!!
warnings: angst, blood, underage drinking, violence, swearing
conrad fisher masterlist
masterlist

༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
Conrads pov
in…out
in…out
in…….out.
I clench my hands into fists to stop them from shaking. I shut my eyes as tight as I can to stop the tears from flowing out.
in…out
in………out.
Calm down Conrad.
she’s upset, she’s tired. it’s fine.
no, it’s not, you did this to her, you’re the problem here. you made her cry. you might as well be like that guy she was with.
That guy.
Dean.
I slowly shut Y/n’s door behind me and race to my car, ignoring Mom and Laurel’s worried exclamations.
“Everything’s fine, she’s okay, she’s sleeping right now. I just- I need to do something. I’ll be back soon.” I assure them quickly before grabbing my car keys and making my way outside.
calm down Conrad.
the only person who could calm me down right now is Y/n. I smile softly as she enters my thoughts but that smile quickly drops as I think of how she was crying tonight.
Dean.
My hands clench the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.
She wouldn’t want you to do anything.
But the way she was sobbing in my arms…
Fuck this.
I turn the ignition on and start reversing to the main road before my car even has a chance to warm up. I drive for what seems like seconds and go to the place where Jere told me he saw Dean last after I drove Y/n home.
It feels like my entire body and mind are on autopilot. I don't even realise what I'm doing before Dean opens Thérèse’s house’s door and my fist connects with his jaw. I don't realise how much anger I had in myself until he falls backwards and I don't give him a chance to get up. I keep punching him again, and again, and again. I don't stop until the blood from his nose is dripping to his white tee, until it's all disfigured and there's more bruises on his face than the hickeys on his neck.
“You ever lay your filthy hands on her again and I’ll make sure you wish you were never born asshole.”
I keep walking to my car as Dean and Thérèse scream threats back at me and flip them off as I get inside and drive back home.
I make it back home and immediately go to Y/n’s room to check if she’s asleep yet.
God, I'll never forgive myself for hurting her like that.
I gently cover her with the duvet on the end of her bed and kiss her softly on the top of her head.
When I make my way out of her room and quietly shut her door behind me walking to the living room, mom and laurel are already waiting for me. I don't say anything as they take me in their comforting arms and hold me. It feels like they're holding me up as my body racks with sobs, threatening to give out at any second.
“I just…I just didn't want to hurt her I didn't know what to do I-” My sentence gets broken off as another sob escapes me and Laurel kisses the top of my head. “I didn't know what to do after you got sick and it got worse I’m sorry I'm so-” I say to Mom struggling to breathe as she shushes me and wipes my tears away.
‘I’ll be okay Connie, I’ll be alright.” she whispers smiling softly but the tears in her eyes tell me otherwise.
They hold me, letting me cry for what feels like hours until their words of sweet nothings and assurances blur out and my eyes get heavy.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
Y/n’s pov
“No, it’s not Jere you don't need the cover that's just for decoration. No trust me I know Bels, I've seen Gordon Ramsey do this like a thousand times on tv.”
Stevens's earsplitting voice breaks me out of the trance of sleep.
How can he be this loud so early?
What time is it?
I pull the blanket off me and start making my way to the kitchen where all the voices seem to be coming from.
Wait…blanket? I don't remember putting one on after Conrad left.
My heart drops to my stomach as I think of him.
My thoughts spiral my mind starting to overwhelm me until Stevens's voice pushes them away. Thank God for his optimism.
“Alright you guys ready?” he says optimistically at the two unsure teenagers next to him, “Stop looking at me like that Jere. Okay, 3…2…..1!” he shouts as he presses ‘blend’ on the blender without a lid and just as he does, all the ingredients in the blender splatter all over the kitchen walls.
“STEVEN!”
“OH MY GOD MAN!”
Jere and Belly shout at Steven as he looks around in a worried state at the mess he's made in the kitchen.
“Hey, what are you guys doing?” I laugh as I take a seat at the kitchen island.
“We were trying to make my legendary miracle hangover smoothies but since Steve-o here wanted to be a masterchef so bad he can take over and clean while Belly and I do it properly.” Jeremiah says as he throws Steven a kitchen towel and starts getting more ingredients out to make the smoothie again.
Belly comes up behind me at the kitchen counter and hugs me tightly, “Hey, we heard about what happened with Dean. I’m so sorry, he was a rat anyways. And Thérèse too.”
“Yeah, totally he was a dick.” Jeremiah agrees as he hugs me after Belly. “You deserve better Y/n.”
“God, when Mom told us I was ready to break all this guy's bones for messing with my baby sister and I swear I would’ve if Conrad hadn’t already beat me to it.” Steven says as he bins a chunk of fruit.
I laugh until I fully process what he’s said, “Wait what? Conrad did what?” I exclaim as worry starts to creep up on me and I get off the stool to find Conrad.
“Oh yeah, you didn't know? He's in the living room!” Jere shouts after me and I mumble a ‘thanks’ in response, too distracted trying to find Conrad.
I find Conrad fast asleep on the couch with his hair in his eyes. I sit next to him and brush the hair away from his face. I notice his knuckles peeking out from under the throw and I pull it away to show the entirety of his cut up hands. I gasp as I see them and hold them immediately examining them closely to see how deep the cuts are.
“M’fine I swear. You should see the other guy.” A raspy voice interrupts my thoughts and I look up to see Conrad looking at me sleepily.
“You didn't have to do this Connie.” I say, upset that he hurt himself over me.
“What, you think I’m gonna let the guy who hurt my girl walk around all fine? Had to fuck him up a little at least.” he smiles with his eyes closed.
I blush at him calling me ‘his girl’ although the words make my chest feel heavier.
Why wasn’t I his girl before?
I push the anxious thoughts away as he speaks to me.
“I’m really sorry about yesterday Y/n, I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you after you broke up it was shitty I’m sorry.” he says regretfully.
“It’s okay Connie don't worry about that right now,” I smile at him, “how much do your hands hurt?”
“Not that much. I could use a kiss though.” he smiles playfully.
I laugh and peck his knuckles carefully. One, two, three, fou-
Conrad lets out a loud hiss and furrows his brows in pain. Worry runs through my entire body as I ask him if I hurt him frantically. He bursts out in laughter at my reaction and tries to get off the couch.
“Oh, you dick.” I say as I push him down the couch and smile to myself as I walk away.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Come back baby!” he shouts behind me in laughter.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
timeskip to the beach
“Whoo! Yeah, let’s go Jere!” Steven shouts as he pushes his wet hair out his face and grabs his surfboard, getting in the water again.
“STEVEN! PUT YOUR SUNSREEN ON!” I shout at him knowing it's pointless and he’s just going to ignore me and get sunburnt again. Every year, I smile to myself rubbing sunscreen on my arms.
I look out into the distance and see Belly trying to surf but drastically failing, Jeremiah trying to help her and Steven trying to get Jere to watch his ‘new cool trick’.
Poor Belly. She’ll never get a moment alone with Jere at this rate.
“You’re not going to surf?” Conrad says as he comes up next to me.
“I don’t know, I’m not really feeling like surfing today, might just sit here and read.” I say smiling up at him trying not to look down at his naked chest.
He nods and puts a cigarette in his mouth, reaching into his pocket to light it up.
“You’re gonna slowly kill your kidneys like that Con” I say as I look in disgust at the thing in his mouth.
He smiles down at me as he goes to light it up but stops and takes the cigarette out of his mouth before putting it back in his pocket. “Well good thing I only need one kidney to survive.”
“I’d prefer if you had two.”
He laughs at me before making his way to the waves with his board.
“CON!” I yell after him.
He turns back and looks at me questioningly as I hold up the sunscreen in my hand.
He trudges back to me complaining about the smell and slightly sticky feeling of it as I rub it all over his back and chest trying not to blush.
I make my way up his collarbones, to his neck and finish with his face. I brush his hair out his face before smiling and whispering saying, “There. All done.”
He stares down at my lips and I stare at his as we lean closer, my heart beat speeding up by the second. His hand comes up behind my neck inching our faces closer and closer-
“Hey Con you coming?!”
ugh. Steven.
Conrad and I break away quickly before Steven has a chance to see anything and I awkwardly pat him on the back. “Yep. All done.”
“Did I interrupt something?” Steven asks, sensing the tension around us.
“Nope. Not at all.” I smile at Steven and see Conrad glare at Steven out of the corner of my eye. If looks could kill…
I stifle a laugh as I see Belly giggling at the scene.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
timeskip to car
We’re driving home with “Keep Driving” playing on the radio and Conrad’s hand holding mine.
Holding each other's hands like this has been a habit of ours for years, it’s just a comfort thing.
“Hey have you guys heard about that party going down tonight at Emmy’s house?” Jere says looking at his phone from the backseat.
A couple of no’s are heard from almost everyone until Belly says, “Should we go?”
“We don’t really have anything better to do” shrugs Jeremiah.
“Alright then. It’s a plan.” Belly smiles before we all start screaming the bridge in ‘Keep Driving’.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
at the party
Conrad and I walk in together hand in hand and go to sit on one of the couches after meeting Emmy.
We talk for a bit until we decide to get some drinks in the kitchen. We’ve never really been “party people” unlike Jere, Steven and Belly, so Conrad and I always stuck together in these things. We’d just stand or sit in some corner (with a pet if there were any) and we’d talk about anything and everything while enjoying the free alcohol.
“Thank you my good sir.” I joke, accepting the drink Conrad gave me as we make our way back to our couch. “Hey you know what we should do?” I say enthusiastically smiling at him.
“Uh-oh. What?” he says taking a sip of his drink.
“We should get tattoos. You and me. Matching ones. Emmy’s cousins upstairs and she’s got a tattoo gun, Belly was telling me.” I grin.
“For real?” Conrad asks.
“Yes Connie, I mean we promised we’d get our first tattoos with each other when we were younger so why not right now?” I ask standing up and downing my drink, holding my hand out expectingly.
There’s a pause before Conrad says, “Our moms would kill us.”
“Who says they have to know?” I smile mischievously at him as he says “Fuck it.” and grabs my hand pulling me upstairs, our drinks and couch long forgotten.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
timeskip
“Holy shit this is badass!” I gasp as I see the two tiny ivy leaves on the side of my ribcage. “I’m so glad I wasn’t one of those people who cry when they get their tattoos.” I said to Conrad who was getting his matching leaves on his left shoulder. “Please, you didn’t cry but you sure as hell crushed my hand.” he says, shaking his hand around before I grab them and kiss them.
“I’m gonna go put a little lotion on this it’s starting to sting, will you be okay here?” I say to Conrad and go to the bathroom across the hall after he nods.
I put some lotion on the tattoo and immediately feel better until someone barges in.
Thérèse. Of course.
“Don’t you know how to knock?” I say, trying to turn away from her but she stops me.
“We need to talk Y/n.”
“Excuse me? No way Thérèse. No fucking way.” I say trying to open the door behind her but she’s too quick and locks it before standing in front.
“Thérèse what the fuck?!” I exclaim, starting to get mad now.
“Just hear me out. Give me five minutes to explain myself. Please Y/n.” she says and I can feel the guilt and regret seeping out of her.
I don’t want to hear a single word from her no matter what she has to say but if listening to hers my only way out of this bathroom then…
“Fine. Two minutes.” I say and immediately see the relief on her face.
“I want you to know how sorry I am. I got jealous of you and Dean like insanely jealous and I…I guess I just wanted to be with him and I didn’t think you were good enough for him and I know how stupid this sounds but I swear I’ve ended things with him and I just want our friendship back Y/n. I’m so sorry.” she says and when she finishes, she looks like she’s on the verge of tears.
I repress the small part of me that wants to take her back and be friends again out of pure respect for myself.
“I feel sorry for you Thérèse, I really do but no. I’m sorry but no, I don’t need shitty friends like you. If you liked Dean before we started dating you should’ve told me rather than making out with him and being a bitch to me when I saw you. Like I said the other night, you two assholes deserve each other. Now move.”
I’m walking back to the room Conrad was in trying to forget the interaction with Thérèse, trying to focus on just having fun with my friends and Con until a tall figure stands in my way.
No fucking way. What is everyone’s obsession with getting in my way tonight?
“Get the fuck away from me Dean.” I spit his name out.
“Babe I’m sorry, I fucked up please just-“ he tries to grab my hands and I immediately stomp on his feet.
“I said get the fuck away from me asshole!” I scream in his face before he stops wincing and quickly grabs me and pins me on the wall.
He looks at me with pure anger and possession in his eyes, scaring me to the bone.
What he says next has my fist flying straight into Dean’s jaw.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
Conrad’s pov
I step out of the room as soon as my tattoos done to show Y/n before I see her pinned against a wall by…Dean.
Anger rises in my body until I can’t think straight but before I can say a single word Y/n’s fist connects with Dean’s.
A chill runs down my spine and I swallow back the acid that crawls up my throat at her cry.
He tests his jaw, rubbing at the place she hit him. “You fucking…”
I see red as I lunge for Dean, but my attention shifts when Y/n lets out a whimper.
“Ow.” A single year runs down her face as she checks her fist.
I don't think as I jump into action. She hisses at me when I try to assess her hand, all while she swipes the tears off her face with her non-injured hand. Something definitely doesn't look right with her pinkie, and she winces as I lightly run my finger over it.
"That doesn't feel too good-" Y/n curses as she brushes her thumb across her knuckles.
"That's what you get for thinking you could lay a hand on me."
I swear this guy has a death wish.
"Oh, I'd like to lay more than a hand on you, you evil fucker.”
Y/n tries to step around me, but I block her path.
"I'll handle this." I give her other hand a reassuring squeeze.
Her brows pull together as she shuts her mouth.
"I was coming here to check in on her and see how she was holding up after seeing me and Thérèse. I'm sure it can't be easy seeing how she’s never going to be good enough for anyon-"
Bone crunches beneath my fist as I slam it straight into Dean’s nose. A deep sense of satisfaction fills me as his head rears back, rolling with the momentum of my punch. Blood gushes down his face and drips onto the carpet.
He tries to staunch the bleeding, but nothing seems to work.
“Call me when you get bored of him Y/n." Dean laughs.
Something dark takes over me. "Get out!" I roar as I lunge at him. My fingers grip onto air as he stumbles backward, tripping over his shoes as he holds his head back.
The pressure in my chest doesn't lessen as he disappears through the double doors. Hopefully he returns to whatever corner of hell he crawled out of before I have a chance to get my hands on him again.
Y/n huffs. "Well, that didn't go exactly as expected." I turn around, finding her hand clutched to her chest. Her twisted expression has my blood rushing to my ears.
I shake my head at her and say, “You’re mad." I laugh softly.
She laughs before wincing at the hand pressed against her chest. "Ouch."
"Let me have a better look." My pulse quickens as I assess her injury. I'm careful not to touch the skin near her knuckles,keeping mind of the swelling. It doesn't look like an open fracture so at least that is good news.
"You're insane. There's no other explanation for why you would punch someone in the face without knowing how."
"I thought it would be like the movies." She finches as she checks out the damage.
"We need to get you to the hospital to have it checked out" I choke on the words, unable to process the reason I decide to make that call. I fucking hate hospitals.
"No! I'm fine. See!" She wiggles her fingers and recoils.
I'm hit with the urge to go find Dean but hold back.
"Why would you punch him?"
Her jaw locks together, and she looks down at her vans.
I lift her chin with my finger. "Tell me."
She sighs, and it takes an exorbitant amount of effort not to shake the answers out of her.
"Promise not to do anything illegal if I tell you?"
"No."
Her head drops. "You're not going to be happy."
"I'm never happy." Except for rare occasions. All of which she is a part of.
She looks back up at me. Her eyes have a sheen to them that has nothing to do with her injured hand.
“He told me to…”
"To what?" Every muscle in my body tenses.
"to be with him or he’d make me regret it." She looks away as if she can hide the way her face is a wreck of emotions.
I'm already halfway down the stairs, body hot to the touch and my head empty of any thoughts besides finding Dean and pummeling him into the ground.
I should have known he would try to pull off a stunt like this. Part of me had stupidly hoped he would have some sense of decency left, but it seems he doesn't have a moral bone left in his body. I underestimated just how far he would go to retain her.
Y/n grips onto my arm and tugs me back. "Wait!"
"I can't talk to you right now.”
I can't talk to anyone, let alone her.
You're the one who brought her into this mess. What did you expect? You could’ve just told her how you felt last summer and prevented her getting with Dean in the first place.
Blood heats beneath my skin. I try to shake her off, but her hold only grows more desperate.
"I need you to take me to the hospital."
I pause, seeing through the cloud of red haze blocking my decision-making. "What?"
Her misty eyes lock onto mine. "I'm in a lot of pain."
Fuck. I release a ragged breath and shut my eyes. "Jere will take you."
"Connie, I need you there. Please." Her plea is my undoing.
My plan to send Dean into a coma slips away as I shut my eyes and nod my head. "Fine. Let's get you to a doctor.”
༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
part three done!!
side note: i wanted them to get matching ivy leaf tattoos bc they reminded me of taylor swifts song ivy🍂🍂
again pls lmk what you think of this part and have a good day/night!!
also pls reblog bc these take me ten years to write and my friend decided to torture me by reading them out loud in a long call about aubergines🤡🤡


1999, part four - final part!
oh my gosh. final part and what a surprise, she's a long one again💀💀ive loved writing this silly little series so so much and i love all of you very very much🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽please give me requests on what to write next bc my mind is completely blank rn, all i can think of is the cold war and bolsheviks from my history revison and i dont think they would make v good fics🤡🤡
lmk what you think of this part and your fav moments, enjoy!!
warnings: tiny angst, mostly fluff, swearing
conrad fisher masterlist
masterlist

༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
conrad’s pov
Since Y/n is unable to hold a phone herself, I'm tasked with a lot, but I didn't fully realize the worry of her family until she had me working through each task with her.
No wonder she’s overwhelmed. The number of texts from Laurel, Mom, Belly, Jere and Steven she has to sift through in a given hour would drive anyone insane.
Or maybe I'm just going crazy by sitting this close to her. The smell of her coconut soap is permanently ingrained into my memory as she sits flush against me, pointing at different texts with her uninjured hand.
I can tell her nerves grow stronger as the Uber near the hospital.
Her knees bounce up and down as she dictates message after message I need to send, confusing me more and more with every word.
The work doesn't stop there. After we check in, a nurse hands us a clipboard filled with pages of information that need to be filled out. Y/n stares at it like it might catch on fire at any moment.
"Here." I pass it to her.
Her eyes shift toward the exit. "Will you help me please? I can't write like this." Her voice drops to a barely audible whisper.
"Okay. Tell me your answers and I'll write them down."
Her throat bobs as she scans the first line. It takes her far longer than necessary to read the first question.
"Do you mind reading the questions aloud for me? I'm too stressed to concentrate right now." Her overcompensating smile irritates me.
"Are you sure? Some of the questions are probably personal."
Don't be a dick. Just do what she says.
"I don't care.”
The rigid way she sits in her chair says the complete opposite.
She seems to be one minute away from breaking down, so I concede. I sigh as I grab the pen and get started on the first question. The paperwork doesn't take us as long as I anticipated, so Y/n and I sit together in silence. She stares at the exit longingly.
The way her eyes dart around the room as she gnaws on her bottom lip makes me feel merciful enough to save her from the anxiety eating her up inside.
“If it's any consolation, I hate hospitals too."
Her head swings toward the direction of my voice.
"Yeah?"
I nod. "Haven't been to one since…"
"I know." she says as she sees my chest heaves as I remember the millions of times we’ve been here before.
I keep my eyes focused on the soundless television playing in one corner.
Her good hand clasps onto mine and gives it a squeeze. I'm grateful she understands me enough not to ask any other questions. The idea of offering another raw part of myself feels like a betrayal of the years I've spent carefully developing a certain kind of persona.
"I hate them too." Her voice cracks.
"Why?"
She stares down at her swollen hand. “My dad…” She pauses, and I give her hand a reassuring squeeze like she gave me. "Let's just say mom ended up in the ER a couple of times for being clumsy."
I take a deep breath to stave off the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "And did you have issues with being clumsy?" If she says yes, I swear to God two men will end up floating in the Chicago River tonight.
She shakes her head rather aggressively. "No. No." My rapid heart rate can be heard through my ears. "If you were, you can tell me." While I can't promise I won't do anything about it, I can promise to make him hurt. A lot. With sulfuric acid or something, those pre-med studies are starting to come in handy now.
The overwhelming sense of protectiveness hits me hard, and I don't shy away from it. There is nothing I hate more than men who use their fists against innocent women and children.
"It never got to that point. Suze made sure of it." she says with a small smile.
"How?"
"She caught onto the signs and interfered before things got bad. Used her savings from my grandpa's life insurance policy to help Mom get a divorce and start a new life." A tear slips down her face, and I can't stand the sight of it.
I brush it away with the pad of my thumb, but the damp trail still lingers. A driving force inside of me wants to erase the sad look on her face. "Did her plan also happen to include a jug of sulfuric acid?"
She forces out a laugh. "I think concrete shoes were more in style back then."
I fake shudder. "Remind me to never make mom angry again."
"Forget her, you'd have to deal with me." She holds up her injured hand like a war trophy.
"I'm absolutely terrified."
"Miss Y/n?" a nurse calls out.
Y/n doesn't move at the sound of her name.
"That's you." I place my hand on her thigh and give it a squeeze.
She sucks in a deep breath as she stares down at my hand.
Her chair nearly tumbles behind her as she bolts out of the seat, throwing her one good hand up in the air. "I'm here!"
The nurse leads us through the emergency room bay.
Individual beds line the wall, each area divided by a paper curtain.
The empty bed meant for Y/n is unacceptable. Between the person retching behind one partition and the individual on the other side hacking up their lung, I refuse to let her be seen here.
"I'd like my…my friend, to be taken care of in a private suite," I speak up. I know I sound snotty right now but honestly, I’ll be damned if I let her already horrible hospital experience get any worse.
The nurse grimaces as her gaze licks across my body. "This is a hospital. Not the Ritz. Take a seat and wait for the doctor like everyone else."
Y/n hops on the bed without any complaint, and I'm tempted to grab her and go elsewhere. The nurse doesn't seem the least bit bothered by all the noise happening around us as she checks Y/n’s vitals and asks some routine questions.
Y/n answers each one while chewing her bottom lip raw. This atmosphere couldn't put anyone at ease, least of all her.
The nurse hangs the clipboard at the foot of the bed, and I decide to try again.
"I'll pay whatever it takes to have her seen somewhere quieter. Money is no object."
The nurse only replies by shutting the paper curtain in my face.
Y/n laughs while I stare at the curtain, dumbfounded to be treated like this.
"You find this funny?"
She nods, her eyes alight for the first time all night. "Did you see her face when you said money is no object? I think if she didn't put the clipboard away, she would have slapped your face with it."
"It's not my fault she isn't accustomed to how things are done in the real world."
"Wake up baby. You're living in the real world." She waves around our room.
"It's terrifying." I say, looking away so she couldn’t see the blush that appeared on my face at the nickname.
"Come here. I'II make it better." Y/n pats the bed.
Doubtful, but I'm a glutton for giving her what she wants lately. Paper crinkles as I sit next to her. I take up most of the bed, giving her little room to get away from me. My thigh brushes against hers. She tries to scoot away, but there isn't enough space.
“Isn’t this cozy?" she quips.
I give her a small smile before she asks, “Hey! Let me see your tattoo.”
God I’d forgotten all about them. I move the collar of my shirt to show the two small ivy leaves we’d gotten. She gasps and gently touches my skin, “Oh my gosh it’s so pretty Connie.” she stares at it for a moment before I ask to see hers.
She lifts up her shirt on the side, exposing her ribcage and the two matching leaves.
“I can’t believe you agreed to get a Taylor Swift referenced tattoo with me Con.” she says as I admire the tattoo for a bit.
I smile until saying, “Hey I might be quiet and mopey but at least I have good taste in music.”
She softly smiles at me before eyeing the IV bag with horror before checking out the exit.
"What’s wrong?”
She leans closer to me and whispers, "Is now a bad time to admit I pass out whenever someone tries to stick a needle in me?"
My lips lift at the corners. I don't know why I find the idea hilarious, given her ability to watch eight consecutive hours of true crime documentaries without so much as flinching.
"You're afraid of needles?"
She sputters. "No. I'm not afraid. It just happens to be a bodily reaction I can't control."
“That's good then because the nurse needs to set you up with that IV when she comes back."
“No! Don't tell me that! I thought she was one of the good ones.”
I nod, pressing my lips together to prevent myself from laughing.
"She lied to me!" She bolts from the seat and would have tripped over her own heels if I didn't reach out and catch her.
*Careful." I place her back on the bed and decide to stand guard in case she gets any ideas to flee the scene.
Her eyes fit from me to the gap between two curtains, as if she is thinking how she can get past me.
"I'm joking.”
She scans my face for the truth before she slaps my shoulder with her good hand. "Asshole! I believed you!"
Laughter explodes out of me like a bomb, stunning her.
“Did you just laugh?”
"No."
“Yes." Someone calls out from the other side of the curtain.
“Now, do you mind shutting up? Some of us are trying to get some sleep over here after having our stomach pumped."
Fuck this place and the people in here. "We're leaving."
"Not so fast. You can't leave before I check you out." The doctor strolls in and points at the bed with his clipboard.
Y/n remains tight-lipped as the doctor checks her chart. He asks her some questions about how she got hurt, all while staring me up and down like I'm the person she was trying to injure. She is taken away for a few scans, and my breathing doesn't return to normal until the nurse brings her back.
That should be my first sign that things are getting out of hand on my end. I'm inching closer to an emotional minefield without any kind of map, only one wrong step away from exploding.
The doctor checks the scans. "It looks like you have a boxer's fracture."
Her face brightens. "That sounds badass."
I glare at her. "Calm down, Muhammad Ali. I wouldn't count today as a victory by any means."
The doctor's eyes lighten. "Next time, avoid any initial contact on the fourth and fifth knuckles."
"Please don't encourage her."
The doctor shakes his head with a laugh before giving Y/n a detailed set of instructions regarding the healing time. I'm skeptical about the whole visit and, given the setting, doubtful about the level of care. I'll be damned if Y/n sustains permanent injuries because of Dean. My chest tightens at the idea.
“Great Thanks, Doc!" She hops off the bed, but I hold my arm out, stopping her
"I’d like a second opinion." The command bursts out of me without any rhyme or reason. Deep down, I know a boxer's fracture isn't the worst thing that could have happened. But things aren't right in my head where Y/n is concerned. At least not anymore.
Both of the doctor's eyebrows arch. "For a small fracture?"
"Don't mind him. He tends to be a bit overbearing." She shoots me a look as if I'm the crazy one out of the two of us.
"Okay..." the doctor says.
Maybe I am losing it because why else would I care?
You hate it when she cries.
You wouldn't mind murdering someone who hurt her.
You took her to the hospital even though you despise them with every fibre of your being.
The signs all point to one thing: our situation is quickly crumbling, and I'm the only one to blame.
Y/n interrupts my thoughts. "I'll be sure to wear the brace for a few weeks and avoid any kind of activities that could aggravate the injury."
"Perfect. And don't forget to schedule a follow-up visit with your physician. "The doctor gives me one last look before handing Y/n the discharge paperwork. "Nice meeting you."
"Will you help me with this?" She holds out the clipboard with her left hand as the doctor leaves.
I grab it from her and fill it out.
She checks the time on her phone. "Well, at least that didn't take as long as I thought it would. I'm sure you're dying to get back home."
That's the scary thing. I didn't think about anything or anyone once during our entire time here because making sure she was taken care of was my only concern. I've spent the past seventeen years of my life thinking solely about my future, and all it took was one girl to make me completely forget about my responsibilities for a few hours.
As if that doesn't scare me enough, it only takes one glance at her makeshift brace to make my blood burn hot under my skin. I know exactly why her injury angers me more than anything else.
It's the same reason I feel the urge to push Jere away from her whenever he gets too close or the way I unexplainably need to see her whenever she is out of my sight for longer than a few hours.
You’re in love with her.
Fuck.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
y/n’s pov
We’re in an Uber on the way home, sitting in comfortable silence until Conrad breaks it.
“Why’d you get with Dean anyway?” My stomach doubles over.
Comfortable silence is so overrated.
I sigh. I’ve been dreading this question for ages now.
“I don’t know.” I answer vaguely.
Conrad gives me a puzzled look, “What do you mean you don't know? You must’ve had a reason.”
His restlessness gets me more agitated.
“I don’t know Conrad. I don’t know why I got with him, I don’t know why I was waiting on you for so long either.” I look out the window as the car stops in front of the house.
“What? What do you mean?” he says as I get out the car and speed up to the front door, taking the keys out of my pocket and refusing to carry on with this conversation anymore.
Conrad keeps yelling after me as he follows me upstairs to my room, both of us trying to ignore everyone else who joined Conrad and are trying to ask their own questions.
I slam my door shut and collapse on my bed hearing Conrad trying to calm everyone down and telling them everything that's happened until he asks them all to give me some space for now.
I cry in the silence as I hear everyone leaving from outside the door until it opens.
“Hey.”
Steven. Thank God.
“Steve…” I say sniffling.
He looks at me with a sad smile before sitting on the bed with me and taking me in his arms.
“Con told us everything,” he says after a few minutes of holding me, “did you really get a boxer's fracture?”
I laugh in tears before showing him my hand and saying, “You should see the other guy.”
Steven and I laugh together before going back to the silence as he hugs me.
“He really cares about you, you know.”
“No he doesn’t. He hates me. I yelled at him and now I’m crying here on my bed like an idiot.”
“Did he say anything to you?” Steven looks down at me.
I shake my head before saying, “He asked why I got with Dean.”
“Oh. That’s not too bad.”
“No it’s not.”
“Then why are you so upset?”
“Because I’ve been waiting for Conrad for so long and I’m just sick and tired of always being there to help him get over his breakups when he’d be so much better off with me. I know I sound selfish and none of my reasons are justified but I just thought that after everything we’ve been through together, he’d maybe like me just a little bit.”
Steven hugs me again and softly says, “He does.”
After that almost everyone but Conrad came in to check up on me and make sure I was okay, making me feel even more guilty about being all emotional like this. It’s not until Susannah’s holding me and whispering sweet nothings that my eyes start to feel heavy.
I think I fell asleep after that, I don’t remember much except waking up to the sun shining its very unwelcome face in my eyes.
I step out of my room after freshening up and I’m about to make my way to the kitchen for food until I’m stopped by something in the hallway.
Or should I say someone.
“Conrad,” I bend down and stroke his hair out of his face, “Conrad wake up.” I say gently.
He stirs for a minute before sitting up and taking my hands in his.
“Have you been out here all night?” I ask.
“Yes.” he says in a raspy voice.
God that voice would make my knees give out if I wasn’t already on the floor with him.
“Why?”
“I need to talk to you.”
I sigh before he interrupts me, “Listen, I heard everything you said to Steven last night and I know I shouldn’t have and I was eavesdropping but I’m sorry it was by accident. And I know I don’t deserve any more of your time…I’ve already wasted a lot of it but just hear me out for ten minutes.”
“No.” I try to get out of his grasp.
“Stop fighting and give me ten minutes.”
“No way.”
“Nine then.”
“Five.”
“Eight and a half.”
“Six.”
“Seven.”
I pause, knowing that he won’t let me go anywhere before I hear him out.
“You don’t deserve seven seconds, let alone seven minutes of my time.”
“How about seven words then?”
I laugh. “I’d like to see you try.”
“I am falling in love with you.”
I blink up at him. Either I am still sleeping or I must have not heard him correctly because there is no way Conrad Fisher just admitted that he is falling in love with me.
Absolutely no fucking way.
Right?
I squeeze my eyes shut as if that can erase the words from my memory.
"You're joking.
"I'm not."
"This is just another part of your game." I try to push him away, but he doesn't budge.
"It stopped being a game for me a long time ago."
"You're lying."
His brows pull together. "Ask me why I hate when people touch my bookshelf."
"Are you serious right now? What does that have to do with any of this?" I think back to his bookshelf he won’t let any of the others go near but loves to let me organise and re-organise each year.
"Because I did it for you."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I read somewhere online that organising objects like books and things is good for people with anxiety, because then they can feel in control of something and know exactly what to expect especially if things are the same as they've predicted all the time. You love reading too, so I changed it. Bought all the books you like to read so that you’d stay and read with me more often. I forced everyone else out of my room and especially away from that bookshelf. All because I wanted to help you."
Emotions clog my throat, preventing my ability to reply.
What can I possibly say that could compare to that?
Conrad doesn't give me an option as he continues. "Want to know why I kept this plant you got me?" he says pointing to the small green cactus with “Don’t be a prick” written on the pot that we could see looking into his room from the hallway.
I nod.
"Because it was the first time someone got me a present that made me laugh."
If hearts could melt into puddles, mine would be liquified right about now.
I take a deep breath.
Remember what he did.
“Con that doesn't change anything you still ignored me for a whole year. Every time I tried to call you or text you, you’d just leave me on read or decline, and now you’re telling me you love me? Who does that?"
"Someone who doesn't understand the first thing about loving someone, but is willing to try if you give me a chance."
"You want me to give you a chance after everything? Do you think I'm stupid?"
He winces, and a bit of my anger fades away at his vulnerability.
"Intelligence has nothing to do with this."
"Easy for you to say when you're not the one who feels like a fool."
"Really? Because based on your reaction today, I'm feeling pretty damn foolish for ever admitting that I'm falling in love with you." He gets up off the floor, leaving me feeling chilled to the bone.
"Con..." I reach out, but he takes a step back.
My eyes sting from his rejection. It hurts.
“I’m not asking you to love me back. I don't expect that and I'm not sure if I ever will because I'm the furthest thing for lovable. I'm selfish, and rude, and don't know the first thing about being in a proper relationship with someone. But that doesn't mean I’m not willing to try for you if you let me."
How am I supposed to be angry at him when he thinks he is unlovable?
A pain rips through my chest at the thought of him talking about himself this way.
I get up off the floor and walk straight into his chest. His arms quickly wrap themselves around my waist, holding me even tighter.
"Just because you make selfish choices doesn't mean you're a selfish person. At least not completely."
This boy had been there for Belly, Steven, me and Jere for years without any kind of payback, especially when Susannah was going through her cancer and despite feeling an immense amount of pain himself, he shoved all his emotions aside so that he could be there for us. For me. If that isn't a selfless sacrifice, I don't know what is.
"Your logic is half-baked at best."
"So is yours, seeing as you called yourself unlovable."
His body tenses. "I'm stating facts."
"I don't know what bullshit your father told you over the years, but it's not true. Your brother loves you."
"He’s obligated to."
"No one is obligated to love someone else. Blood or not."
He takes a deep breath. "You're right."
I smile up at him. "I could get used to hearing those words."
He reaches up and cups my cheek. "Give me a chance and I'll tell you them every single day."
I sigh and look away. "I don't know.”
"Tell me what's stopping you."
"You don't do relationships."
“Good thing our feelings lead us here rather than our minds, and mine are willing to try then."
I avoid his penetrating gaze. "What if my feelings are telling me to run?”
“It's cute you think you can outrun me, but I'll give you a head start just to make things interesting." he smiles down at me.
"Do you always have an answer for everything?"
"Not for the one that matters most." The way he looks at me stirs up something deep inside of me.
Longing. I want to give him a chance, regardless of the potential fallout.
You might get hurt.
I might, but I might miss out on something special because I’m too afraid of the what ifs. I'm done being that person. Even if it means getting hurt, I'd rather try and fail than never try at all.
I stand on the tips of my toes and press my lips against his.
He holds me tight against his chest, as if he is afraid of letting me go.
I pull away, only to clasp onto his chin. "This could be a disaster, but I'm willing to try."
He shuts me up by pushing his lips against mine, sealing our new deal. The way he kisses me is different than any time before. He cups my face with the palms of his hands as his lips mold against mine, teasing me until I feel dizzy. His thumb brushes across my cheek back and forth, and heat rushes down my spine straight to my belly. He makes me feel cherished. Protected.
Loved in a way that makes me never want to come back down to reality.
I could spend forever being kissed like this and still feel like it isn't enough. While Conrad might not be the best with words, his kiss says it all.
He is falling in love with me. And I’m falling in love with him. No translation necessary.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
ahh i cant believe its finished omg😔💔...
anyways, onto the next one😍🙏
again please lmk what you think of this and please give me requests on what to do next!!