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whatsk-poppinhomies · 3 months

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Pairing : Dad!Yang Jeongin x F!Reader TW : kidnapping ; arguing ; angst ; happy ending ; slightly suggestive at the end as well ; Word Count : 4.2k Request : nope, but I really wanted to write a part 2 for Innie! A/N : this is the last last one (aside from Hyunjin and Jisung who will get a part 3 at some point, but like, the actual series ends with my fav.)

“You said it was my day to pick Jeongsoo up from school, right?” Jeongin asked as he stood outside of the building, waiting for his daughter to run up to him like she usually would whenever she saw him in the crowd of other parents. It was his favorite part of the day, finally being able to see his daughter after working so hard. Today was supposed to be no different, but in the sea of other children, his daughter was nowhere to be found. “Did you already get her? Maybe you just forgot to tell me but-”

“I didn’t get her. It’s your day. Is she still in the building? It’s cold outside so… Maybe she just decided to stay in and wait?” He could already hear the panic in your voice, and he wanted nothing more than to ease your worried mind, but he himself was beginning to panic as well. “I’m heading up there now, I’ll meet you in like, 5 minutes.” You said before ending the call, and now Jeongin was left to swim in his own thoughts, at least until you got there.

The crowd slowly began to thin as parents took their children home, but Jeongin still stood there, hoping to see his baby girl standing there. She wasn’t though, and the sound of children laughing and playing faded out until all Jeongin heard was the wind whistling through the empty branches of the trees. “Excuse me!” He called when he saw Jeongsoos teacher start to lock up the classroom door. She turned with a smile, although she looked slightly confused. “Where is Jeongsoo? I’m here to pick her up and she’s not here…”

She tilted her head, even more confused now. “Jeongsoos aunt picked her up. She said that Y/N wasn’t able to pick her up today. I thought that Y/N would have let you know.” Her teacher said, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. “I’m very sorry for the confusion.” But Jeongin was left even more worried than before as he shook his head, stepping in front of the teacher as she started to walk off.

“N-No, no… Jeongsoos aunt doesn’t live here. There’s no way that she could have been picked up by her.” Jeongin stammered, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone so that he could call you just to be sure. “Did you even check her ID? Did you even verify what she was saying? How could you have been sure that she was actually Jeongsoos aunt? Do you just let kids go off with anyone who says they’re related?”

The teacher's eyes widened as she began to stutter, unable to even form a coherent sentence as her head shook rapidly. Thankfully you pulled up just at that moment, rushing out of your car to run over to Jeongin. “What’s… What’s going on? What happened? Where’s my baby?” You asked breathlessly, and now the teacher looked even more upset, even more scared than she had been before.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. I’ll call the authorities, I’ll… I’ll do whatever I can to help. I’m-” She was crying, and with the lack of information that you had been given, you were more worried than before, looking to Jeongin for answers that you so desperately needed.

“We have to go.” He said flatly, his heavy breaths were coming out shaky, but you didn’t have time to ask any questions as he ushered you back to your own car, although he opened the passenger door for you instead of letting you get in the driver's side. “I need you to call the security team, I need you to tell them that it’s an emergency. I need you to call management, see if they’ve gotten any calls or anything about Jeongsoo. And then I need you to call the guys to see if they’ve gotten any weird messages. Can you do that?” He asked, fishing his phone out of his back pocket and tossing it onto your lap.

“Why? What’s going on?” You asked, but you didn’t wait for an answer as you started scrolling through his contacts to find everyone that he had asked you to get in touch with.

Jeongin shook his head, his fingers gripping the steering wheel as he sped down the streets back towards your house. “This wouldn’t have happened if we were together…” He mumbled, impatiently drumming his fingers on the wheel as he waited for the light to turn green. “You’re so busy going out on your dates, trying to find someone so that you’re not lonely… You don’t even care about her… You’re so fucking selfish you don’t even see that you have someone right fucking here! Now my baby has been fucking stolen from me and… It’s your fucking fault!”

“Are you seriously gonna try to fucking blame me for this shit?!” You shouted, and deep down you both knew that the last thing that was needed right now was for a major argument to happen, but emotions were running high, you both were terrified, and you were taking it out on each other. “I bet it was one of your crazy ass fucking fans! You’re always posting pictures with her on your Instagram even though I told you not to! Or it could have been one of the multitudes of girls that you sleep around with trying to get closer to you!”

“For the last fucking time, I don’t do that shit anymore!” He shouted right back, whipping around a corner, and even though he was absolutely furious right now, his arm still flew out to hold you against the seat. Even when he was pissed, he still cared about you way too much for his own good. “You’re the one going out on dates every other fucking night! You’re barely even with her! And then you bring these random ass strangers back to the house and you think I don’t know what’s going on?! How do you know it wasn’t one of those assholes who did it?!”

“That’s absolutely absurd!” The shouting match continued back and forth until Jeongins phone started to vibrate on your lap, and you immediately answered it, putting it on speaker phone so that he could hear as well. “Hello?” You rushed out the greeting, waiting for someone to say something.

“Hi mom! Hi dad!” Jeongsoos voice came through the speaker, and you felt your heart sink. The car swerved to the side of the road and Jeongin grabbed his phone off your lap so he could talk directly into it.

“Hey baby, where are you at right now? Who are you with? Let daddy and mommy talk to them, yeah?” Jeongin said urgently, his hands shaking as he gripped the phone tightly. No matter how angry he made you, no matter how angry you made him, right now all you had was each other, and you reached out to grab his free hand that was shaking nervously, giving it a small squeeze to try to calm him.

“She say she know you and mom… She gave me ice cream… She’s really nice.” Jeongsoo said, her innocent mind completely unaware of how dangerous this entire situation was, how scared you and Jeongin were. “I wanna go home… I wanna watch a movie with you and mom… Can you come here?” She asked, and Jeongins head fell against the headrest, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips pulled into a thin line.

“Me and mommy are trying… We’re trying to come get you…” He practically whimpered, sniffling loudly between each sentence. “Tell me… What do you see? Do you see anything outside, baby?” He was pleading, his grip on your hand tightening as he waited for Jeongsoos response, but she didn’t talk again, your daughter’s voice being replaced by someone much older created a pit in both yours and Jeongins stomach.

“We’ll be in touch later. I can’t wait to meet you, Innie!” A shrill voice rang through the speakers, and while you would have looked at this as a victory in any other circumstance considering you had been right, you were far too worried about your daughter, whose whereabouts were still unknown, and the call had been ended and you couldn’t even redial the number.

“You can say it…” Jeongin mumbled as he continued driving, one hand on the wheel and the other balled into a fist that was pressed against his temple. “Just say it. I know you want to… You were right… It’s my fault. It’s because of who I am… If you had had her with someone else… Someone normal… You wouldn’t be going through this right now.” The setting sun glistened on the tear that rolled down his cheek, a tear that you quickly wiped away as you shook your head.

“I wouldn’t have wanted to have her with anyone else. You’re an amazing father… And I know that you love her. You love her more than any father could ever love a child… That’s why I know we’re going to find her, and we’re gonna get her back.” Your palm rested against his cheek for a moment as your thumb brushed along his tear-dampened skin. “We’re gonna bring her home.”

///

It had been two days since your daughter had been taken. The police were involved, trying to trace every single phone call that came through, but it all seemed to lead back to nowhere. The calls were always untraceable, and every time the number was called back, it would say it was out of service. The only thing giving you and Jeongin hope anymore were the untraceable calls where you’d both get to talk to your daughter, it was the only time that you knew she was still okay.

“We’re starting to believe that whoever did this, might be someone that she knows.” The cops explained as they listened back to the recording of the phone call. “She doesn’t sound scared, she doesn’t sound like she’s being forced to do or say anything that she’s saying. As crazy as it might sound, this might be someone closer to you both, or one of you… But I don’t think that this person, whoever it may be, I don’t think they plan on hurting her.” And while that was a massive weight lifted off both of your shoulders, it now begged the question of, who the hell was doing this?

“Are you able to hear if there’s anyone in the background talking? Are you able to isolate the sound? Maybe we can hear someone, or something that would give us a sign of who she’s with or where she’s at?” Jeongin asked, running low on ideas of things to do that would help. He didn’t want to just sit around and wait though, he wanted to help, he wanted to get his little girl home as soon as possible.

The front door was pushed open as you and Jeongin leaned around the computer that the officer was working at, trying to listen back to the call as the sound was edited and then re-edited to try to pick up any kind of background noise. “What the hell is going on here?” The voice asked from the doorway, and when your head whipped around, you were met with the sight of the guy you had been seeing for the past 2 weeks standing in the corridor with flowers in his hand.

“Minjae, I told you that right now was not a good time.” You hissed, and from the corner of your eye you saw Jeongin make a face of both annoyance and disgust. “I’m really busy right now, there’s an emergency, and I don’t have the time for this.” You tried to explain as you got up from your chair and went over to stand in front of him. “I’ll explain it all when I have the time to, but… I just really don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“If it’s so important then why didn’t you tell me? I thought I was your boyfriend… I mean… Why would you tell him and not me?” He motioned to Jeongin who was getting more and more irritated with each passing second, his long fingers drumming on the table top, and you knew that if you didn’t get Minjae out of the house soon, Jeongin would end up going off on him.

“I really think that you should just go and I’ll talk to you about it later. Please…” You whispered, trying to keep calm, but you were getting more and more upset, especially considering every second wasted on him was a second that could have been put towards finding your daughter. “I need you to go now.”

“Why? So you can have date night with your baby daddy?” Minjaes voice raised in volume and he threw the bouquet of flowers down at your feet causing you to jump back. “You’re just a bitch! You used me! Well… See if I care! He’ll just use you again! Don’t try to come back to me either! He can have your used up, pathetic, single mom, trashy ass!”

Behind you, both the officer and Jeongin had stood up from their chairs, ready to move at any second just in case this guy put his hands on you, and for the most part, other than his ranting, things were fine. Jeongin knew well enough that you could hold your own, but when this guy started insulting you, Jeongin didn’t care for the officer that was still in the room, he didn’t care about the charges that might be placed against him. Anger coursed through him as he walked across the room and pushed Minjae up against the door, his forearm pressed against Minjaes throat as he pinned him against the door.

“You don’t talk about her like that! Never talk about her like that! You don’t know her! You don’t deserve her!” Jeongin screeched into Minjaes face, his arm pressing deeper and deeper into the man’s neck. “You’re not worth the time that’s being wasted on you! You’re not worth anything!” The whole time he was shouting, Jeongins other hand was raised in a fist, and the officer had rushed over to attempt to pull Jeongin away, but it was proving to be pointless. “I don’t want you around her! Don’t come here!”

Through it all, the man simply laughed in Jeongins face, although the sound came out strained due to the pressure on his throat. “You’ll see me again…” Minjae said, the sneer on his face far more menacing and downright eerie than you had ever seen on anyone before. “I’ve already gotten what I wanted from her anyway, she’s useless to me.” And those words in themselves had Jeongin reaching a point of wanting to commit murder, and the only thing keeping him from actually doing it was the fact that the officer was right there and he wanted to find his daughter.

When the officer was finally able to pull Jeongin off of Minjae, he was practically pushed out of the door, leaving you and Jeongin alone momentarily as you waited for the officer to come back. “What did he mean by that? Did you fuck him?” He asked, his eyes narrowing at you and if you weren’t so shaken up by the previous interaction between him and Minjae, you would have been defensive, but instead you were just upset at the accusation.

“No! I’ve never slept with him! I haven’t been with anyone in that way…” You pleaded, trying to declare your innocence, although you weren’t sure why it really mattered to Jeongin in the first place. “I thought he was trying too hard… He would always bring gifts over for Jeongsoo… And he’d tell me that he was really excited to be her dad one day…” Your head shook, but Jeongin was deep in his thoughts, weirded out beyond belief by what he was hearing.

Before Jeongin could even respond though, the officer returned, motioning for the both of you to follow him over to the computer. “I have officers following him to wherever he’s going right now.” He said, and you wondered if it was because he heard what you had told Jeongin, but then he pulled the headphones out of the port so the three of you could listen to the audio file from the very last phone call you had gotten. “The voice in the background… There’s two, but listen… It sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” He asked, and then he started playing the file, and you felt your heart drop as you listened to the conversation that sounded so faint, but so clear through the laptop speakers.

“You said that he’d come here to get her! Why is it taking so long?! Where’s the money at? When are we supposed to get it!?” The female voice that came first was screaming, although during the phone call you hadn’t heard it at all, and it seemed like Jeongsoo wasn’t phased by it either. You could only suspect that it was happening from a couple rooms over and Jeongsoo wasn’t too worried about it.

“Well I can’t tell them to just bring the money here! Do you want to go to jail?! Cause’ I sure as hell don’t!” The man shouted back, and it didn’t take more than a second for you to place the voice, to envision a face with it, especially after what had just happened. Your eyes widened as you looked to Jeongin who seemed to be going through the five stages of anger and grief all at the same time.

“Well you’re the one pretending to date the bitch, and it’s been two nights since we took the spoiled brat and you haven’t even attempted anything. You haven’t even gone over to see her! At least pretend like you’re interested still. Maybe you can help them find the kid!” The woman continued, and you felt sick, physically sick. You pushed yourself away from the table, running to the kitchen sink and practically flinging yourself over it. You hadn’t eaten much the past two days, so you just heaved, and it was the most painful thing.

“It’s not your fault…” Jeongin whispered, his sudden appearance beside you had gone unheard, but he was rubbing your back soothingly as he held your hair away from your face. “I don’t… I’ll never blame you for this… No one would have thought this would happen…” He continued to murmur to you as you tried to catch your breath, and once you did, you fell against him. His arms wrapped around you tightly and his lips ghosted across the top of your head as he continued. “We need to go now though… We need to get our baby back…”

Both you and Jeongin were far too worked up to drive, so you had opted to ride in the back of the officer's car as he raced through the streets to get to where your daughter was found. The ones that had been sent to follow Minjae had been led straight to the house where she was being held. The radio in the car had constant updates crackling through the speakers, and while you were just barely listening, focusing more on the thought that you’d soon be reunited with your daughter, you had heard them say that Minjae and a female had been placed into custody.

When the car pulled up, you were practically blinded by the lights of the multitude of other police cars on the street, but through the lights, you spotted the silhouette of a man holding a little girl, and you knew that it was your little girl. Jeongins hand that had been holding yours the entire car ride was pulled away as he jumped out of the car before it had even come to a complete stop, and you did the same, both of you running to the officer to see your daughter.

“Daddy! Momma!” Jeongsoos voice was filled with excitement as she wiggled free from the officers arms and ran across the sidewalk towards you and Jeongin, and the only reason you didn’t pick her up was because Jeongin had reached her first, and now she was being held tightly to his chest and spun around by him. “Why you take so long?” She asked, and Jeongin simply shook his head, refusing to put her down as he looked at you, his smile both sad and relieved at the same time.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie…” You whispered, running your hand over her hair, trying your best to hold it together in front of her. “We’re gonna go home, and everything is gonna be okay… You’re okay now, sweetie.” You continued, and as if you were the one who needed to be comforted, Jeongsoo held out one of her arms and pulled you closer to her and Jeongin.

“It’s okay, Momma… You not have to cry. I’m okay.” She reassured you, patting your shoulder and sighing softly. She didn’t know how scared you and Jeongin had been, she probably didn’t even know what was going on at all. She was sassy, she had a fiery attitude when she needed to, but she was also selfless and sweet, she was an angel in the eyes of you and Jeongin.

The officer that had been with you and Jeongin almost the entire time finally came over to where the three of you were after the other patrol cars drove off, carrying with them the two people that had stolen your entire world. “There’s going to be a court date, we do not expect Jeongsoo to be there, we don’t expect the both of you to be there, but at least one of you have to show up. Jeongsoo already very kindly told one of the other officers everything that happened, and I want you to know that she is okay. This was simply a scheme to make money, which is awful, but it could have been far worse.” You and Jeongin nodded your heads, but neither of you wanted to think about what you knew he was talking about. “I’ll get the three of you back home, and I’ll be in touch with you to let you know when the court date will be, okay?”

///

Jeongsoo was fast asleep in her room, and you and Jeongin stood in the hallway just outside her door, neither of you wanting to have her out of your sights. The fear of losing her would stay with the both of you forever, but for now, it was like you needed that constant visual reminder that she was home, that you did get her back.

“I know… It’s not my place to tell you that you can’t date anyone.” Jeongin mumbled, leaning against the wall of the hallway, his head hung low as he crossed his arms over his chest. “But, at least let me meet him or something… Before he meets Jeongsoo. I can’t handle something like this happening again… I just can’t.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding your head. “I don’t want to date anyone else… I don’t want to be with anyone else… I can’t go through something like this again either and… and you don’t deserve to go through this again just because of me.” Sniffles sounded out so softly they almost got lost in the drifting sound of Jeongsoos quiet snores, but Jeongin heard it, Jeongin heard you.

“It’s not your fault, baby…” He cooed, but the pet name had you slowly lifting your head to look at him, and usually he’d back track, say you misheard him, or he’d just change the subject completely as his entire face turns a bright shade of red. Not this time though, he was tired of losing you, and he had gone through this entire shit show because he was too much of a coward to ask you before. Not again. “I love you, and I love the perfect little girl that we made together. I don’t want to lose her again, and I don’t want to lose you to someone else. I know I made mistakes, I know that I’ve been the biggest piece of shit in the past… But seeing you with those other guys… Seeing you walk out that door to go out on those stupid dates… I can’t take it anymore. So just… Kiss me once and maybe you’ll feel something. Maybe you’ll feel the way I’m feeling. But if you don’t, we can forget about it and everything that I’ve said and-“

Your fingers gripped his shirt as you pulled him towards you, your lips crashing together in a kiss that it felt like you had been waiting forever to have. “You talk too much…” You murmured against his lips, the corners of yours pulling up into a little smirk. “So is this you asking me out or…?”

Jeongin rolled his eyes, his hands roaming along your curves until he stopped at your hips, giving them a light squeeze that had you wiggling and your body burning up. “If I had a ring I’d be asking you to marry me right now, so yes… I am asking you out…” He stepped closer, his body pressing against yours and basically pinning you against the wall. “Are you saying yes?”

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godsfavdarling · 1 month

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How could you? (pt.2)

my masterlist, part 1

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (established relationship)

words: 1,8k

summary: You're still hurt but you don't think you can let Spencer and your love for him go so easily.

warnings: angst, hurt, spoilers for season 15!

a/n: i'm so happy you guys liked the first part!!! i was asked to write part 2 and I was so flattered! thank you for all the love <3

The following days felt like walking through a dense fog, each step heavy with the weight of pain. You couldn't shake the image of JJ cupping his cheeks, and pressing her lips against his. It was a scene etched into your mind, haunting you like a relentless specter.

His lips. Lips that had whispered sweet nothings to you, that had traced patterns of love and affection on your skin. Lips that had promised forever in each kiss, now tainted by another's touch.

You couldn't comprehend how it had come to this.

How could he allow someone else to invade the sacred space you had built together?

His lips for years had only ever kissed and worshiped yours. But now, everything felt ruined, tarnished by the image of her lips on his.

The questions swirled in your mind, each one more agonizing than the last.

How could he betray you like this? Did he ever truly love you, or was it all just a lie?

The memory of Spencer's confession played over and over in your mind like a broken record, each word etched into your heart with painful clarity.

You knew about his past with JJ, how he had loved her long ago, only to have his feelings unreciprocated. He had moved on from that chapter of his life, leaving behind the pain and heartache to build a future with you.

But seeing them together, so close, her hands on his beautiful face, her lips on his, it was clear that his feelings had not been one-sided.

He had bared his soul to you, laying bare the events of that hostage situation, recounting every detail with a raw honesty that left you reeling.

You remembered how he sat close to you with his hand on your lap as you cleaned his wound. Tears in your eyes as you played with his fingers and soaked in saline solution gauze. Staring at his hand you listened to every word, as he reassured you of his unwavering love. He had made it abundantly clear that his heart belonged to you and you alone.

But did it?

The doubts crept in like tendrils of darkness, twisting and coiling around your heart with suffocating intensity.

Had he truly moved on from his past with JJ? Or was it merely a facade, a carefully constructed illusion meant to shield you from the painful truth?

The thought gnawed at you, clawing its way through the layers of your defenses until it settled like a lead weight in the pit of your stomach.

What if he still harbored feelings for her, buried deep beneath the surface of his professed love for you? What if JJ's sudden confession had reignited the flames of their past, offering him a chance to finally grasp the love he had always longed for?

The thought was like a dagger to your heart.

You wanted to believe in Spencer's love, to cling to the hope that his heart truly belonged to you and you alone.

But what if it didn’t?

As you grappled with the pain and confusion, a part of you yearned for answers, while another recoiled from the truth you might uncover. But one thing was certain: the image of her lips on his would haunt you for a long time to come.

Could you ever forgive Spencer for what he'd done? And more importantly, did you even want to?

You couldn't help but wish for a sign of remorse from JJ. Spencer had reached out, extending an olive branch of love and reconciliation, despite the weight of his own guilt and regret. He had shown humility, acknowledging his mistakes and expressing his desire to make things right.

But JJ remained silent, her absence a stark contrast to Spencer's efforts to mend the fractured pieces of your relationship. Perhaps she was too embarrassed to reach out, too ashamed to face the consequences of her actions.

How could she have the audacity to remain silent, to act as though nothing had happened?

It felt like a slap in the face, a cruel twist of fate that only served to deepen the wound.

The silence between you and Spencer was deafening, each moment stretching into eternity as Spencer waited for you to reach out. He knew he had hurt you, betrayed your trust in the worst possible way, and the guilt gnawed at him like a relentless beast.

He wanted to explain, to make you understand that it wasn't what it seemed. But every time he reached for his phone to call you a wave of uncertainty crashed over him, freezing his fingers before they could dial your number.

Spencer watched helplessly as you withdrew into yourself, your walls rising higher with each passing day. It tore him apart to see you in pain, knowing that he was the cause of it all.

He longed to reach out to you, to hold you close and beg for your forgiveness. But he knew that he had to give you space, to let you come to terms with what had happened in your own time.

As the days turned into weeks, Spencer found himself consumed by a sense of desperation. He would do anything to make things right, to earn back your trust and rebuild what you had lost.

But deep down, he feared that it might already be too late.

Spencer's heart leaped with a sudden surge of hope as he saw your name flashing on his phone screen. Without hesitation, he snatched up the device, his fingers trembling as he answered the call.

The sound of your voice washed over him like a soothing balm, filling him with a sense of relief he hadn't realized he was craving. Your words, a simple request to meet and talk, sparked a glimmer of optimism within him, a flicker of hope that perhaps all was not lost.

But even as excitement bubbled up inside him, a familiar pang of doubt niggled at the edges of his consciousness.

What if this meeting was merely a prelude to the inevitable, a final farewell before you walked away for good?

He pushed aside the nagging voice of uncertainty, choosing instead to focus on the warmth and sincerity in your tone. Maybe, just maybe, this was his chance to make things right, to lay bare his soul and beg for your forgiveness.

With newfound determination, Spencer agreed to the meeting, his heart pounding. He knew the road ahead would be difficult, but for the first time in days, he allowed himself to hope that perhaps, against all odds, you were willing to give him another chance.

The air was heavy with unspoken tension.

As you walked in, your eyes were immediately drawn to the spot where JJ and Spencer had kissed. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't look away.

You settled into the silence, your gaze drifting constantly to the spot where they stood. Where they stood when they kissed. This was the spot you saw them in as you walked through the door, the image of Spencer and JJ still burned into your mind's eye. Her lips on his.

Spencer noticed the direction of your stare, the weight of your gaze heavy upon him like a silent accusation.

With a gentle touch, he reached out and took your hand in his own, the warmth of his touch a soothing balm against the ache in your heart. Surprisingly, you didn't pull away. Allowing him to touch you, to bridge the divide that had grown between you, sent a rush of warmth through his veins, making his heart flutter with a glimmer of hope.

In that simple gesture, there was a silent reassurance that you were still willing to give your love a chance.

"Hey," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that mirrored your own. "I know things are... complicated right now. But I want you to know that I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right."

The sincerity in his words washed over you like a wave, eroding the walls of doubt.

Despite the pain and betrayal, a flicker of hope ignited within you, a tiny spark of belief that perhaps, against all odds, you could find a way forward together. You loved him too much to let go without a fight.

When you looked into Spencer's eyes that night, the night of the kiss, even then you saw not just the hurt and the regret, but also the love. Just as you do now.

Your mind was racing, your heart heavy with pain, but even then, you knew deep down that this couldn't be how your love story ended. It wasn't over yet. There were still chapters left to be written. And you still believed.

With a steadying breath, you squeezed Spencer's hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the midst of the swirling chaos of your emotions. "I want us to be okay," you confessed, your voice trembling with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "I believe you. I just... I don't know what to do, Spencer."

Spencer's gaze softened with understanding, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "I know," he murmured softly.

You could see the turmoil in his eyes, the fear of losing you etched into every line of his face. And as much as you wanted to hold onto your pain and anger, you couldn't deny the love that still burned bright within you.

"But... I love you. Only you. And I don't want this to be over. If you don't want this anymore... I'll understand. Well, I don't, but I'll try to. But I don't want to. I love you too much. I want us to be okay too. And I'll do anything..." Spencer's voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes.

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around Spencer tightly, pulling him close in a silent embrace. You could feel the tension melting away with each passing moment, replaced by a sense of warmth and security that only he could provide.

"I'm sorry," he choked out between sobs, his voice heavy with regret. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you."

You said nothing, letting your actions speak louder than words. Gently, you brushed away the tears on his cheek.

You couldn't walk away, not when his love still held you captive, not when you knew deep down that you couldn't bear to be apart from him.

You couldn't walk away. His love had woven itself into the very fabric of your being.

As much as your mind raced with questions and uncertainties, a quiet voice within you whispered that you believed him. You believed in the sincerity of his words, in the depth of his love, and in the possibility of you two being okay.

With every fiber of your being, you clung to that belief.

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piichuu · 8 months

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♡ TREATING HIS WOUNDS

ft. levi ackerman, reiner braun, jean kirschtein, erwin smith, eren yeager

WARNINGS: mentions of blood and wounds, broken arms etc, fluff, gn!reader

LEVI ACKERMAN

“you shouldn’t worry about such small scratches. it’s not a big deal,” your boyfriend speaks as he’s sitting on a chair in the medical tent. initially, you had planned for doctors to take care of his wounds, but as there were much more severe injuries to take care of, you took things into your own hands and pushed him onto the nearest chair before you began searching for a medical kit you could borrow.

he has just come back from a mission together with the survey corps and as soon as you saw the small wounds on his arms and how he could barely walk properly, you grabbed his hand to pull him towards the medical tent. “these are not scratches, they’re wounds. you’ve obviously hurt your knee as well, stop trying to deny it,” you speak with tears in your eyes. he may be the strongest soldier of them all, but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t constantly worrying for him.

you begin to clean the small wounds on his arms, making sure there is no chance they’ll get infected before bandaging them. meanwhile, levi is looking down at you, now with a softer gaze than the one he previously wore as you practically forced him to walk here when he himself didn’t think he needed any help. seeing the tears in your eyes however do cause him to frown slightly, not enjoying when you worry so much.

“hey, i’m okay. it could have been a lot worse-“ “don’t say that! i don’t want to think it could’ve been worse. if i got to decide, you wouldn’t even be on the survey corps anymore,” you mumble while pulling up the leg of his pants to check his knee, gently touching it which causes him to let out a pained groan. “i’ll ask a doctor to look at this when they have some free time, i don’t think you’ll be able to walk properly for a while…”

that’s enough. he can’t handle seeing that sad expression on your face when realizing that he has been injured, even if it isn’t as severe as so many others. “look at me,” he cups your face, forcing you to look at him. “i’m alive. i won’t die during a mission, that’s a promise. you can trust me, as long as i have you by my side, i will always fight to survive,” he speaks while looking into your eyes.

you nod and quickly wrap your arms around him even if it looks a little awkward with you now standing up again as he sits on the chair. he strokes your back gently and sighs. “i’m so happy you’re back again,” you mumble and he nods, continuing to stroke your back. “me too. i guess i’ll be stuck here for a while as well with this knee, so we’ll have to make the best of it.”

REINER BRAUN

you’re quiet while inspecting his face, touching the small bruises you can find. as he doesn’t react to your touches, relief spreads throughout your body, but as you notice that he’s bleeding through his shirt by the arm, your heart instantly sinks again. reiner notices where your gaze has headed as well and sighs, knowing he has once again caused you to worry. “i promise it doesn’t hurt too much, baby. don’t worry, please?” he strokes your hair gently, but only for a short while before you take hold of his hand and lead him into the bathroom.

“what happened, reiner?” you ask while helping him hop onto the counter as you rummage through the cupboards to find the med kit. “was out training and went a little too hard. i fell on a tree branch, i won’t be training outside next time,” he mumbles, watching as you finally pull out a few paper towels to try to get rid of most of the blood.

he doesn’t know what to say as you treat the wound on his arm. the disinfection you carefully put onto his wounds does sting, but it is bearable. you’re always so careful with him when he’s been injured, no matter how severe it is. something he hates is worrying you but it is still something he often succeeds to do. “i’m sorry, darling. i know you’ve told me to be careful when i’m training outside,” he mumbles while leaning his head back against the wall. a day full of training with friends does become exhausting after all.

“it’s okay, i just don’t like to see you hurt,” your voice can barely be heard as you speak, focusing on taking care of his arm that receives a bandage from you. but you still aren’t finished as you once again go quiet to check if his arm is broken. “it doesn’t hurt that much, and it’s not broken, don’t worry. we already checked that after i fell.”

you sigh and nod, putting the med kit back into the cupboard as reiner gets back on his feet and goes to wrap his arms around your waist. “you worry about me too much,” he whispers, placing a soft kiss to your cheek as you put your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder blade. “i know, but after all those years of you fighting titans and humans, i never know what will happen when you’re out and about…”

“that was years ago, darling. the worst that can happen to me is something like this. i’m not risking my life like that anymore, okay? don’t worry about me, this wound will heal in a second. you’ll get a heart attack if you worry every time i leave the house,” you nod in agreement and close your eyes. reiner then opens his mouth to continue speaking. “i do worry about you too though, so i guess i can’t say much, but i want you to be happy, not to worry about me. i’m always gonna come back home to you.”

JEAN KIRSCHTEIN

“you need to be more careful, jean,” you mumble while cleaning the few wounds that are covering his face. it had been hit by tree branches as him and the rest of the survey corps were out on a less dangerous mission, but he had still succeeded to get hurt. he himself told you that he forgot to cover his face as they rode in the middle of the woods where most of the trees were.

he pouts slightly, getting scolded by you for probably the hundredth time during your relationship as he’s often out on dangerous missions and is risking his life. “i didn’t know it would be so crowded with trees. connie got hit too!” “neither you or connie are the smartest, so don’t use that as an excuse.”

jean sighs but wraps his arms around your waist. “don’t be mad at me, please,” his pout grows and you roll your eyes, but a small smile slowly appears over your face. “i’m not mad, i was just worried that it would be more severe. connie wasn’t really making it sound like it was something small, i thought you’d almost gotten eaten by a titan or something,” you explain which now causes your boyfriend to frown.

“he’s so dumb, i’m sorry that he made you worry so much,” he cups your face and looks at you with a soft smile playing at his lips while you’re putting bandages onto his cheeks and forehead. “it’s nice though, knowing that you worry so much about me. it makes me feel loved even if i don’t want you to feel so worried all the time.”

you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to give him a quick kiss. he looks at you with sparkling eyes and pulls you closer to him. “thank you for always taking care of me, i love you so so much,” he whispers, kissing your cheek before burying his face into the crook of your neck. “i love you too, jean. let’s go cuddle now.” “sounds good to me.”

ERWIN SMITH

“don’t cry, darling,” erwin speaks as you’re currently changing the bandage on his shoulder, right where his arm was bitten off by one of the many titans. it’s only been a few days since then and he’s supposed to change bandage every few days as it may still bleed a little. seeing the large wound does however cause tears to fill your eyes, how can it not? he’s your boyfriend after all and knowing the pain he must’ve felt as he lost the arm hurts your heart.

erwin strokes your hair gently and tilts his head to the side. “hey, it’s okay. it doesn’t hurt as much anymore,” his voice is soft just like his eyes and you meet his gaze as you finally look away from his arm with tears running down your cheeks. “i’m sorry, it just makes me so sad to think about it. i wish you didn’t have to go through so much pain.”

“don’t apologize, darling. it’s gonna heal soon and we won’t have to change this bandage as much. it’s a shame i only have one arm though, but it will stop hurting, i promise,” he smiles sweetly while moving his hand to your cheek, just wanting you to look at him at the moment, not wanting you to focus on his shoulder for now. “i’m okay, don’t worry about me. i’m still alive, that’s what matters.”

you nod and wipe your tears away, giving him a slight smile before you go back to bandaging his large wound. meanwhile, erwin is trying his best not to let out groans of pain as he doesn’t want you to worry even more. instead, he keeps a smile on his face and kisses your cheek as you finally finish treating the wound. “thank you, my love.”

he puts his arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your forehead. “i have to do some paperwork now. if you want, you can keep me company, but i’ll try to finish in an hour so we can do whatever you want later,” the two of you smile at one another and you nod. “i’ll keep you company, i promise i won’t try to distract you.” “i doubt i can believe that, but i’ll be happy to have you there.”

EREN YEAGER

eren watches as you’re cleaning his wounds even if you’re aware of the fact that they will heal by themselves. he is a titan shifter after all, but does that matter to you? no. you still can’t trust the process and therefore continue to treat his wounds every single time he’s hurt, even if the wounds will heal in only a minute or two.

“your really don’t have to worry, baby. i’m gonna be completely fine, it doesn’t even hurt,” he speaks as his arm with all the wounds finally begin to heal and he allows you to look at the arm so you can see that it’s actually healed. “look, completely fine. there’s nothing to worry about.”

you nod and sigh before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him, as close as you can get. “but thank you for caring about me. i’m happy i’m the one who gets hurt all the time and not you. i don’t know what i would do with myself if you were injured,” he kisses your cheek and hums contently, happy to be close to you after many hours out on a mission.

“but i don’t like it when you’re hurt, even if you heal quick by yourself. even if it doesn’t hurt for long, i don’t want you to be in pain at all,” you pout, getting a chuckle out of him as he leans in to kiss the pout away. “i guess i won’t ever get you to stop worrying, but just remember that i will always come back home to you and allow you to treat my wounds, because that’s always better than me dying. i love you, baby, okay?”

“i love you too eren. just try not to get hurt so often, please?” you look at him with pleading eyes and he nods, smiling softly. “okay, i’ll try my best. i promise that i’ll try my best.”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Dirty Work 41

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: it's thursday and i'm thirsty.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You have no tears left. When you’re still and silent, standing in Odin’s arms, slumped against him, the birds sing a little louder and the sun shines a little bright. You feel almost cleansed despite the hollow at the pit of your stomach. You lift your head and wipe your damp cheeks as he slowly lets his embrace fall away from you.

You sniffle and peer back through the garden, towards the house. You’e not ready to face them all, not with puffy eyes and a heavy heart. Odin pats your shoulder gently, rubbing your arm as he coos your name.

“I have something else to show you,” he says and offers his hand.

You take it and gulp down the last of your grief. He turns you away from the great Odinson manse and leads you around the fountain. Leaves rustle softly and the water trickles soothingly. He guides you down a path hidden behind a cluster of bramble, overgrown with moss and ivy, littered with winged samara and sprouting blooms.

The noise of the fountain fades behind you as you enter an archway formed by outstretched maple branches, canopied in the spring leaves. There’s a small structure ahead shrouded in purple wisteria. A gazebo, smaller than that on Laufeyson’s property, forged in stone with rounded windows upon each side. Within, the walls have benches jutting out, another doorway opposite the entrance, looking out into a shadow swath of untrimmed foliage.

“It is old, a bit unkempt, much like myself,” he chuckles as he lets you go.

“It’s beautiful,” you preen as you admire the neat lines between each stone block, “wonderful… I… I love it.”

“It’s a perfect hiding place,” he muses, “a perfect place to have one’s breakfast without disturbance.”

You turn to him, a question stitches between your brows.

“I will fetch you tea? Yes? Perhaps some fruit and something more substantial?”

“I…”

“Dear, you think overly much of others and not enough of yourself. Sit, enjoy your solitude while you can, and I will return with all you need,” he insists.

“I can’t, Mr. Lauf–”

“You let me worry for my son,” he interjects. “I’ve no doubt his part in your despair.”

You don’t argue further. You wouldn’t dare. You lower your head and sit along the stone bench against the wall and turn to peer out the window. It is wonderful there. Like a little world of your own.

You glance over but he’s already gone. You barely even heard him with the buzz of insects and scratch of sneaky critters all around. You turn back to the long window and watch a dragonfly skim along the ground, whizzing up, down, and back and forth. It’s as if you escaped into a book you read as a girl, where everything was magical and spectacular. You don’t think you’ll get a happy ending though.

Your mind wanders through the greenery and back to the house. The bedroom, dark in the small hours of the night, laying awake, staring at the wall, Mr. Laufeyson’s warm breaths puffing into your neck. Those moments when he doesn’t seem so intimidating but remains perplexing. One moment, wrapped around you, the next toying with you like a puppet.

Your core tingles and you bend your legs on the bench, squeezing them together. The sensations swirl in your mind with the shower steam. As delightful as it all was, your heart rents with shame. The way he left you on the tile, the expectation you would get yourself up and go to him, ready to be used again. As always, you have a duty.

Mr. Laufeyson does not care for you as a person, you doubt you’ll ever be that in his eyes. You are just another possession, like his records on the shelf, or that telescope he polishes so vehemently. Just another number in his collection.

You hear a snap and blow away the anxiety as best you can. You can’t worry about it so deeply, you know what you agreed to. He has given what he’s promised; you’ve been fed, clothed, and housed. You need him more than he could ever need you.

You turn to the doorway as Odin appears again, a tray in his hands. He brings it to the next bench and sets it down. There’s a cup of tea and a stack of square waffles beneath a dusting of sugar and heaps of berries. It smells delicious as your mouth waters for a taste.

“I’ve brought this as well,” he stands straight and takes a book from under his arm, “I hope it will keep you entertained.”

“Oh?” You watch him set it down.

“Today is for you, dear, you won’t be disturbed, I will see to it,” he declares, “Walpurgisnacht approaches and we all must be ready for the spring. Lay the past behind so we can start again.”

You lower your eyes, “thank you, Odin.”

“No need for that,” he says, “I only ask that you do one thing for me,” he nears and pets your head. You peer up at him as you heart seizes. “You will be kind to yourself.”

“I… I’ll try.”

“You should take care of her,” he points to you, “I rather like her a lot and I hate to see those I care for suffer.”

You smile, “I will.”

“Better,” he grins and retreats, “I will be in to check on you periodically.”

“Thank you,” you call after him and he gives a half-salute before he’s off, whistling into the air.

You exhale and let the last of the tension slake away. You drag the tray close and cut into the fluffy stack. You remember how you always wanted a waffle maker. Instead, you always had the frozen waffles you slid into the old overheating toaster. These are much better, they’re sweet and oh so yummy.

Sitting there, in the small gazebo, amidst the wilderness, you feel like a bird in a nest. Safe, cozy, and alone.

✨

You lose yourself in the pages of the book. The sun shifts as you move with it, keeping the ink in its light as you imbibe every word like sweet nectar. It’s like staring in a mirror as you feed on the tale of one, Jane Eyre.

Your literary meditation is splintered by the sudden ripple of a shadow and the clearing of a throat; gentle, almost reluctant to tear through the serenity. You look up at Odin as he stands in the archway, a small curve amidst his thick white beard.

“Apologies,” he says as he comes forward to gather up the tray, “I’m afraid it’s time.”

You deflate and close the book. You stand and hold out the book, “I can get all that.”

“No, no, I can manage,” he assures you, “and that is for you, dear. Keep that as your own.”

“I couldn’t–”

“You have some to go, haven’t you?” He eyes the book, “please, I have enough books.”

You look down at the book and hug it. It’s like a new best friend. You just want to spend all your time amidst its pages.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever you need,” he backs out of the gazebo, “come with me now. Let us put our masks on.”

You giggle and follow him. He says it so well. It’s like slipping back into a costume. You feel the peace chipping away and the tension once more has you rigid. Back to the real world.

“Now, we cannot give ourselves away,” he halts just out of sight of the veranda, “I shall go ahead and you will follow that path,” he turns and nods behind the row of hedges, “follow it around the front and you may slip in.”

“Oh, uh…” You blink and look over your shoulder, “that way?”

“Yes, it will take you right around to the front door.”

“Right, thank you… again.”

He bows his head and steps forward. You turn off in your own escape as the slippers on your feet clap against the ground. You come out in the golden sunshine and tramp across the stonework of the arced drive. As you come up the steps, the door opens from within. You stop at the middle stare and gape up.

“There you are,” Mr. Laufeyson greets, almost an accusation, “where’ve you been off to?”

Your brows pop up and you peer around, “reading.”

“Reading? You couldn’t do so in your room?” He challenges.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson. I broke the rules.”

“You broke the rules– get inside,” he points you inside as he steps back. You obey and he snaps the door at your entrance, turning towards you with a finger in the air. “Is that all you have to say?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I’m very sorry.”

He sighs and drops his hand, gripping his hip, “where were you reading?”

“Outside.”

“Outside– be straight, where?”

“In the garden,” you say plainly, lips down turned, “I only wanted to watch the butterflies.”

You look up at him, a pout in your lower lip, and bat your lashes. You clutch the book tighter and his eyes fall to squint at it. He reaches and curls his fingers around the top, wiggling it free. He flips it over to read the spine.

“This is a first edition,” he states as he examines, “where did you find this?”

The disbelief in his voice makes you nervous. First edition?

“Is it very old?” You ask.

He winces and looks at you, his green eyes lit, “1847… I’d say so.”

“Oh?” You bat your lashes.

“Not in its original form,” he turns it over, “it’s been rebound into a single volume. The first print was in three parts and this cover… it can’t possibly be so ancient.”

You gulp and purse your lips.

“So I have to wonder, where you found this,” he sneers at you.

“Well, I… your father gave it to me.”

“Gave it to you? To read? He lent it to you?”

“Um, he just said… to keep it as my own,” you shrug.

“Do you--keep it? A first edition Bronte?” He sounds ready to explode, “so that is where you’ve been? With my father?”

“I saw him, Mr. Laufeyson, but I was mostly alone,” you sniff, “I shouldn’t have gone out. I’m sorry. Again.”

“Is that all you’re going to say? Sorry, sorry, sorry?”

You nod, “sorry.”

He closes his eyes and pinches his nose, “you will stay close.” He offers the book back to you, “put this away and put on some proper shoes,” he looks down at the oversized slippers, “I’ve some errands to run for mother and you will come along. Do your duty.”

✨

Mr. Laufeyson is quiet throughout the drive. So are you. You accept your penance and roil in the thick silence, fingers twiddling and twining restlessly. His sighs make you flinch as you await further reprimand.

He pulls in before a shop front of white trimmed in red. He gets out without waiting and you follow after him. You trail him inside as he strolls across to the counter where women in red aprons and caps smile back at him.

“Hello, I’ve come to pick up an order for Odinson,” he declares flatly.

“Frigga? Oh yes,” the shorter of the pair flits into the backroom.

“You don’t remember me?” The other woman asks. Laufeyson’s eyes shoot darts at her and his brows arch.

“I recall you spilled vodka on my wedding shoes, yes,” he scoffs.

“Oh,” she makes a face, “I thought maybe you’d forgotten that part.”

“Mm,” he hums and taps his fingers on the shining countertop.

The other woman returns and slides over a large white box, a red seal stuck along the corner to keep it firmly closed. Laufeyson takes out his wallet, “how much then?”

“Paid for,” the woman proclaims, “all yours.”

“Right,” he slides the box off and pivots smoothly.

You peer back before you scurry ahead of him to the door, opening it as his hands are full. That woman was at his wedding? Did she know Sif? Was it a big event? Did everyone go? You don’t ask any of the questions that flood your head. You’d rather not know.

He balances the box in one hand and reaches into his pocket for his keys, unlocking the trunk. He tucks the box firmly against the emergency kit to keep it in place.

“Whatever it is, it should be kept cool in here,” he shuts the lid, “though I wonder why mother couldn’t have it brought with tomorrow’s delivery.”

You don’t say a word. You wouldn’t know either. He strides back along the side of the car and dips into the driver seat. You mirror him as you get in on the passenger’s and he presses the button to turn the engine. He sighs and rests the heel of his hand on the steering wheel. He glances in the rear view.

“I’ve another stop to make.”

That’s all he says. It isn’t a question, just a statement. Though you wonder why he even made the declaration. You don’t need to know, you just go along.

He backs out and rolls out of the lot into the street. You distract yourself with the other storefronts and the veneers of city buildings. He drives onto an avenue and slows along the curb, shifting to a stop before he once more shuts off the engine.

Again, he gets out without instruction. You follow. That’s all you can do. He heads up to the grey brick house. Where are you? It isn’t until you’re at the front door that you notice the metal placard mounted on the wall; Bragi Skald, Antiques and Artifacts.

Laufeyson clangs the large knocker on the door and checks his watch. You wait. It’s quiet. You see no light through the windows but the curtains are drawn flush to the windows, as if they’ve been sealed.

The hinges whine suddenly as the door swings inward, “Ah, Loki!” A blond man at least head shorter than his visitor greets, “wonderful to see you again. I did have it in my ear that you were about, I was curious as you when you should darken my doorway.”

“Bragi,” Laufeyson replies tersely.

“And who is this gorgeous creature,” the man’s crystal blue eyes surprise you as the bow in his lip deepens. He sends you a wink and offers his hand, “forgive me, sweetheart, I nearly missed you there, and how could I overlook such a ravishing woman.”

“Enough,” Laufeyson girds.

“I haven’t even introduced myself–”

“This is Bragi,” Laufeyson introduces the man then utters your name pointedly in return.

“Ah, beautiful name but that hardly answers my curiosity. Who is she? Oh, don’t tell me, you’re marrying again–”

“Hardly,” Laufeyson swipes away the thought with his hand, “I only need to be away from my family.”

“Yes, yes, of course. With Walpurgisnacht, I can only imagine–”

“Be glad you only have to imagine it,” Laufeyson scowls. “Are you going to welcome us in or shall we continue to stand on your porch like tramps?”

“Come, come,” Bragi opens the door wider, “Lady, please, don’t mind the clutter.”

Laufeyson waves you ahead of him. You enter and hold back your shock at the interior. You can hardly see the walls for the stacks of books all around, many with sheaths of paper jutting out. It smells like cinnamon and hint of dust.

“What are we in the mood for? Tea? Or something stronger? I’ve some absinthe–”

“Don’t be mad,” Laufeyson rebukes, “tea will do fine. Just tea, none of your tricks.”

“You speak to me of tricks?” Bragi hums, “is that a sense of humour I sense, oh, dour Loki.”

You lock your jaw to keep from gaping. You’ve never heard anyone talk to Mr. Laufeyson like that, not anyone outside his family, and even Thor did not mock him so lightly.

“Do you want tea?” Laufeyson looks over at you.

“If it isn’t any trouble.”

“Tea,” Laufeyson snaps his fingers at Bragi.

“Do you like scones, lady?” Bragi turns his attention to you.

“I’m not very hungry, thank you–”

“Lady!” A squawk makes you jump, drawing your attention to the flutter of blue feathers that descends to perch on the banister post. A great blue parrot tweaks its head and repeats the word.

“Oh, hush,” Bragi shoos away the bird but only receives a nip of its sharp beak, “don’t listen to Fossegrim. He talks too much.” Bragi shakes his head and retreats down the hallway, “tea, tea, tea…” he chants as if he might forget.

Laufeyson tuts, “he speaks of talking too much…”

You stare up at the blue parrot as it stares back at you. Around its eyes and mouth are bright yellow strips. It’s a pretty creature.

“Lady,” it bawks again and hops off the banister, winging around the space to land on your shoulder.

You gasp as Laufeyson takes a step back. He just sends a troubled look to the bird and glances around, “in here,” he points you through the doorway behind him.

“Um…” you move carefully, trying not to disturb the bird.

In the next room, a large harp stands in one corner, a piano the other, and a litter of various instruments on shelves mounted on the walls. There’s a twelve-string guitar on the sofa, leaned against the armrest as if it was left there haphazardly.

“Be very careful,” Laufeyson returns, “it bites.”

“Bite!” The parrot squawks and snaps in Mr. Laufeyson’s direction. He sighs and once more eludes the bird’s breadth.

“Wish he’d lock that thing up,” he mutters.

You stand like a statue, nervous. You turn your head slowly to look at the parrot. It leans in and nuzzles your hair. You stay as you are, paralysed as you fear it might snap at you too. A grating chitter rises from its throat, softer than its former screech. It continues the purrlike noise as it rocks on your shoulder.

“Is it singing?” You ask as Laufeyson stares with arms crossed.

“I have no idea. Let’s hope it’s not growling.”

You frown and clasp your hands tight. If the bird keeps Mr. Laufeyson away, it can’t be so bad.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #dirty work #series #au #maid au #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

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misscinnamonroll16 · 2 months

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Brozone headcanons

Clay and Floyd are the stunt men now that they're adults. Clay's always been a little bit of a daredevil, Floyd already died once, why not live a little.

Clay is nocturnal, like the rest of the Putt-putt trolls. His bros throw his sleep schedule off so when they're hanging out, it's not unusual for Clay to just be passed out somewhere or on someone. If they can, they get Clay to bed so he can properly sleep. If not, everyone's volume goes low.

Both Floyd and John Dory took bartending classes. And by took I mean, Floyd just so happened to be sleeping with a bartender who taught him some things. When making drinks, John's proper about it, Floyd is kind of messy. Floyd's over pouring and spilling.

Clay's handwriting is like a nice print. It's easy to read and looks good on paper.

John Dory is good at photography. He mostly uses this skill for taking nature shots but he's gotten good at candid shots of his brothers. He doesn't let them know about these pics bc they don't look the most photogenic but they look like themselves and that's what John loves to see.

JD has dimples

John Dory almost always has at least one weapon on him.

The brothers think JD has a death wish bc he's constantly going after animals that could literally kill him. "John! Don't touch that, it'll tear you to pieces!" "Psh, whatever. If we weren't supposed to pet it then why does look so fluffy?"

Floyd doesn't go into detail about his past. He'll tell snippets here and there but avoid questions. For one, because he's a bit embarrassed about it. He did a lot of things he isn't proud of, drugs, sleeping around, and drinking. For two, he knows that his older brothers still see him WAY younger than he actually is (like how they still see Branch as a baby) and it would just shatter that mentality. And he doesn't want to do that. For three, it's WAY more fun for him if they don't know and have to keep guessing. Floyd has heard them trying to figure out what he spent the last twenty years doing and starts fucking with them.

John Dory definitely has pictures from even when he was a baby and such. Even ones with their parents but he tries to keep those ones tucked away. Branch is going through them when he finds a picture that has been folded in one of the sleeves of the photo album. It's a picture of John and Bruce and their parents. JD quickly snatches the photo and shoves it his vest. Those people looked like strangers to Branch, that picture probably being the first time he's seen them

The brothers know they didn't have a good childhood but John did his best, despite being pretty much a child himself.

John Dory man spreads no matter who he is sitting next or if he's just sitting in a chair.

John Dory wears the one glove to hide an incredibly deep scar. He got into some trouble with some bounty hunters and needless to say, they drove a knife through his hand. He doesn't want his lil bros to know or worry about it so he hides it.

All the boys (like most trolls) are fuzzy. JD and Bruce have the most prominent facial hair and chest hair. They all have leg hair, arm hair, under arm hair, and a happy trail.

Clay and John have the Blond™️ gene (that's how I'm referring to it) where their hair goes through changes. That's why their hair is so much different from when they were kids. In the summer while spending a bunch of time outside, JD and Clay's hair gets lighter, Clay being a light yellow and John being a soft teal. The others convinced them to do one of those 'take a picture every day for a year' things and make it into a flip book to show how their hair changes color.

The boys really wanted a sister. John jokes that they kind of got one with Floyd

Floyd and John Dory are good gardeners. JD briefly grew his own food and Floyd just has a natural green thumb (not that John doesn't)

Floyd gets random nosebleeds

#trolls #brozone #trolls john dory #trolls floyd #trolls clay #trolls bruce #branch trolls #trolls headcanon #trolls headcanons #brozone headcanons #brozone hcs

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months

Text

HCs: Spot meeting a Spidey!Reader who takes him seriously as a villain

Been having brainrot for Spot lately and thought that he deserved something nice,,like a Spiderman who’s like “bro my bad guys are boring but you’re really cool” and so this happened-

First time writing him, but hope y'all enjoy!

......

Spot’s first fight with Miles only made him feel like one thing..

A loser. An unworthy opponent. A mere “villain of the week”.

It’s downright humiliating knowing that the Spiderman who (intentionally or not) was the catalyst of the collider accident that turned him into this freak..didn’t seem to take him seriously anymore.

So he goes to hide in another universe for sometime, questioning wtf he’s doing and if anyone in this vast multiverse will see him for what he is--a real villain and a real threat.

Then he overhears on a police officer’s radio chatter that a spider person was several blocks away, stopping a robbery.

He sees this as his chance to shine and throws on a sloppy disguise.

And he arrives just you have already apprehended the crooks, all four of them webbed up as the store owner shakes your hand, expressing immense gratitude for saving her small business.

“I get it..living’s hard enough around here. I just do what I can to make it easier for folks.” You smile behind your mask.

Then Spot leaps out of hiding, demanding to know where the safe is.

The store owner looks at him, rolling her eyes like “oh boy, another villain for you, kid.”

Immediately, he’s pissed off.

Just “another” villain???

He would have damn near sent this mean lady through a hole and not care where she went had you not intervened.

“Woah, woah, woah...okay..you’re actually the coolest villain I’ve seen yet! I-If that’s what you are. Are you a villain or do you consider yourself one because I don’t wanna be rude-”

He’s thrown off by the questions, and your compliment. He's tripping over his own words.

“Yes. I uh..think so..? Now will you let me rob this store or-?”

“Not a chance, bud.”

And so the fight begins, branching all across the city as webs are swinging and holes are being thrown.

Judging from your voice, you sounded no older than Miles..and yet here you are actually engaging in the fight instead of texting on your phone and brushing off his attacks, not treating him like a nuisance to get rid of.

It genuinely made Spot emotional when you’re throwing hands on the rooftops and he makes you punch yourself in the face..to which you say “WOW that’s pretty amazing ngl”.

He’s glad he can’t really cry anymore but his voice stays high-pitched and wobbly during the rest of the fight and you even pause to say “are you okay, man?”

He just feels so validated here.

Even as you defeat him and web him up for the cops, he escapes back to his dimension, still wanting his revenge.

But from time to time, he’ll return to yours and demand a “rematch”, with you being more than happy to oblige.

#marvel x reader #spiderman across the spider verse x reader #across the spider verse x reader #atsv x reader #atsv spot #the spot #spiderman reader #teen reader #platonic #headcanons

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euniveve · 4 months

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞 — k. ayato

pairings: ayato x reader tags: christmas, modern AU, angst to fluff w.c: 839 a.n: this is a very very very very late christmas present for @fuoon as part of the @2023gisecretsanta event! I never back down never give up (also i was technically sick so i can latch on to that reasoning hahahhahah I'm still very sorry tho) merry christmas, happy new years, hopefully you like your gift!

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry but there’s an emergency meeting that can’t be delayed. I’ll be home as soon as it’s finished.”

You let out a sigh of defeat, looking at the bare Christmas tree in the corner of your living room. The spruce sits there, dreary and gloomy, void of life and celebration, just like your heart. The corner of your lips twitch and you swallow the growing lump in your throat, your eyes shifting back towards the fireplace.

“It’s alright,” you reply, your voice shaky before clearing your throat, “hopefully your meeting goes well.”

“Again my love, I am so sorry, I’ll try to make it up–”

You press the red button before you can hear him say anything more, sparing you the inevitable disappointment it would bring.

Ayato always does this; business before family, or perhaps in his mind it is one and the same. After all, the man has been brought up for the sake of the company, his parents burdening him with the knowledge that it will all be his responsibility someday. That “someday” came 3 years ago and it has been weighing heavily on your relationship.

Last year you were stuck with his sister, Ayaka, and housekeeper Thoma while the head of the Kamisato Corporation ended up coming home after the celebration was finished and the leftovers from the feast stored away. They aren’t bad company per se, you could even say their presence is enjoyable, but they aren’t him.

They are not Kamisato Ayato.

Granted, the previous years he had returned home in time, but this year is no different than that one. The only difference is that Ayaka and Thoma were busy this time of the year, something about helping with the business, so it seems like you will be celebrating alone.

You suppose you are being selfish, seeing that his enterprise is the one managing the cultural aspect of the Tri-Commision, therefore they would be busy in the time of holidays, it is given. A sacrifice you would have to make, a taste for the coming years undoubtedly.

Wishing for it to change is a childish dream; you are only his fiancee after all. You ought to understand.

You look around the boxes, spotting your headphones before putting them on and arranging your favourite playlist to keep your mind off things, humming along to the tune of a familiar song.

With absentminded singing, you pick up the tinsel and begin to wrap it around the tree, arranging tiny lights in between the branches. Your fingers twirl the ornaments before placing them in a neat and florid manner.

Staring blankly at the now fully decorated tree, you took a couple of steps back, trying to admire your own work; that is, before your back pressed against something… warm?

You furrowed your brow, your lips pressed together as your heart began to beat faster in a panic. You quickly contemplate many possibilities; did an intruder manage to get past the property’s tight security? Are you going to get mugged? Will Ayato be sad if a bunch of stuff is missing?

You shook your head; the fiancee of the richest man in Inazuma shouldn’t be scared of such things– so you bite the bullet and turn around, only to be greeted by those dreamy blue eyes and an aloof smile, one you have the pleasure of witnessing every morning.

Ayato reaches over to you, his gaze soft as his hand gently grabs onto your headphones and removes them from your head, your heart beating out of your chest as you watch his every move.

“Ayat-”

Warmth engulfed you both as you felt his soft lips against yours, his arm wrapped around your waist, a tender touch shared only between couples; the happiest couple you know.

“But you said you wouldn’t?” You whisper with bated breath, “How.. why?”

“I will not miss another Christmas with you,” he softly replies before letting one of his mischievous smiles slip in, “After all, there are worse nights to miss than this one.”

“Pfft…”

His blue eyes shift away from your face, that smirk still sitting on his lips before his sights landed on the fully decorated Christmas tree, except for arguably, the most important part. “Where is the star?”

He slightly bent down, resting his chin on your shoulder, kissing your jaw before whispering into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your earlobe almost making you shiver. “Were you waiting for me to put it, darling?”

“As if!” You stifle a chuckle, eyeing the golden star on one of the boxes before tugging the fabric of his suit. “But could you perhaps do it?”

Ayato hummed, his arm’s grip tightened on your waist, peppering kisses on your shoulder before finally loosening and walking over to the boxes, picking up the star and placing it on top of the tree effortlessly. He then suddenly turned around, taking a mistletoe out of his pocket and holding it high up.

“Shall we complete the ultimate Christmas tradition, my love?”

#gixrsecretsanta2023 #☁️◝ the holy codice: little musings #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato angst #ayato fluff #kamisato ayato

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tojigasm · 1 year

Note

SAM PLS FEED US MORE JAKE ANGST💘

I was a little evil with this one, I admit 👩‍💻

Sometimes it's still vivid in his memory. How cold it was that day, the ash, and harbored screams. He could remember how hard it was to breathe through the thick chunks of grey that littered the forest and how raw his hands and wrists felt. Had Pandora ever had a cold day? He can't recall.

Neytiri doesn't come to him in times like this. Where he sits by the stacked forest flowers and pretty stones that you'd collected. She knows na'vi and human grief is settled differently in some, Jake is one of them.

You're still there, in his memory. He can make out your pretty smile and hair, the shape of your lips when you talk – though he can't hear your voice. He'd forgotten the sound of it some time ago.

In the past several days he finds your face foggy, clouded by blurs and features he can't quite make out in the midst of his memory.

Hes terrified of losing you again.

He still remembers how you were laughing and smiling right before the troops showed up and how quickly that changed everything.

The two of you had gotten separated when Eytukan and Mo'at had tied he and Grace up. Forced to watch you and Neytiri run into the forest in pure horror of your mate.

And he still remembers the way Neytiri looked at him in fear when he'd found her. Asking where you were.

You were so cold in his arms, a bloodied wound sunken deep into your side, your skin turned a shade of purple almost. You had died alone and cold and afraid. Without your mates and anyone to soothe you.

Jake doesn't think he's ever cried harder than when he lost you. He and Neytiri had sat with your body for hours, hoping maybe it was a shock spell and you'd wake up and he could get you to Norm and the healers.

You didn't wake up.

He hasn't seen you in the spirit of Eywa. The thought of seeing you so close and so far away might ruin him. Though he knows you must miss him, especially when all who visits is Neytiri.

So it's on a whim, when Neytiri and the kids have gone to sleep that he goes to the spirit tree. Stroking his hands over the delicate branches and letting himself bask in the gentle air.

When he does connect, he sees you. Not the foggy memory he's made, but you.

He recognizes this memory. The sounds of the creak and the cooes of animals in the forest. It was the day you'd found out you were pregnant.

Your giggles are what draw him in, pulling him to kneel beside your seated form.

"Jake!" You squeal when you notice him, wrapping your arms around him, "Where have you been? I have something exciting to tell you!"

Jake tears at that, stroking a hand down your soft back, "m'sorry, kid. I've been busy." He pulls away to cup your cheeks in his hands.

"Oh... well that's okay," you're back to smiling, holding your small hands over his large ones, "why're you crying?"

Jake shakes his head for you to continue and you do, but not with out the signature eyebrow raise you'd give him whenever you'd think something was off.

It makes him chuckle momentarily, softening in the warmth of you, "you gonna tell me what's so exciting or am I gonna have to wait ti'll I'm fifty?" He jokes and you giggle, pulling one of his hands off of your cheek to rest on your tummy.

"M'pregnant." You look up at him so excitedly he feels his throat hitch with a sob. You were so happy and you had it ripped away from you only a few days after.

"you are?" He struggles and he knows you can tell. He blinks hot tears that roll over his striped cheeks and his hand shakes beneath yours.

"Are you okay–"

He cuts you off by pulling you into his arms, holding your heart over his own to hear it beat once more. Settling to keep you as close as he can before he has to leave. He feels you relax under him, pressing kisses to his skin.

Jake holds you like that for a while longer before pulling away and looking you over. Stroking his hands over your cheeks, he kisses the top of your head.

"Be good while m'gone, m'kay?" He keeps his hand on your chin and you nod with that pretty little smile. And he can't help but kiss you once more, whispering "that's my sweet girl." before he's disconnected from you and left in the cool forest again.

He doesn't go back to the tree of Eywa for a while after that and he doesn't tell Neytiri. Though a part of him thinks she knows. Knows in the way she's more gentle with him, she's more relaxed about pushing him to go see you.

He settles on your memory again, thinking of you in small moments and letting the soft memory of your lips settle him.

And it's not until Jake and Neytiri pack and leave for the Metkayina that he wonders if he'll see you again and when a sinking feeling settles into his stomach it's that he realizes he probably won't.

#jake sully #jake sully x reader #dilf jake sully #avatar

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dominophile · 3 months

Text

💙🍃Branch Dating Headcanons🍃💙

Character: Branch

Warnings: small talk of abandonment issues, nothing major

Nsfw?: none

This is for a friend. The reason I ever actually got into Trolls was because she told me all about how hot Branch was.

I also very much want to headcanon this guy I have so many thoughts.

Note: My headcanons will always include my species headcanons too, which includes but isn't limited to different types of tails, claws, hair, etc.

Now for the man of the hour, Branch!

Branch is the perfect man

I mean kind of

From the first day you started dating, this man has been super protective of you

He doesn't want anything bad to happen to you, even if you're definitely safe already, this guy is taking zero chances

Probably at some point tried to keep you in his bunker for "precautionary reasons"

Look it's the thought that counts, he loves you

Now let's not forget the abandonment issues

He's got a genuine fear that people he loves will all leave him, one way or another

Reassure him you're not going anywhere, please, he needs it

You don't have to be with him 24/7 of course

He understands more than anyone the need to be alone or do your own thing, trust me

If you want to hang out with other Trolls, I doubt he would mind

He doesn't like groups much, but he might appreciate the sentiment of you inviting him regardless

Say "I love you"

You might just have to he the first to do so

He loves you so fucking much, but "What if that scares them away??"

Just tell him how much you love him every so often, it helps

On a similar note, communicate!

Communicate how you feel, and encourage him to do the same

Keeping secrets and emotions from him could easily come back to bite you

Even if you don't have bad intentions, he might assume you do

It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just assumes the worst sometimes

That said, he's not sure how to share his own emotions sometimes either

This guy has spent a long time avoiding every other living being and doesn't often understand the difference between talking to himself, and talking to you

Social cues too, don't assume he knows what you're feeling, because as much as he tries with you all his new friends, he still gets it wrong a lot

Work with him, you'll get there

Branch enjoys spending time with you, but he's wary about physical touch

Ever met someone who hates being touched but is also touched starved? That's Branch!

If he wants physical affection or something of the sort, he'll come to you

You can also ask him. He loves and cares about you and even if it's not his favorite, if it makes you happy he'll allow it

He will absolutely protectively wrap his tail around you though if you guys are sitting next to each other

Who cares if you're all alone? Feel safe damn it

You're the only person who can do that, he knows you won't hurt him

If you also dislike physical affection, you two can just vibe in each other's company

Branch overworks himself sometimes, and normally would fight through exhaustion, but if you're around, he wouldn't mind a quick nap

You'll watch his back won't you?

He wouldn't mind if you fell asleep with him too

All in all though, he's a good boyfriend

He's thoughtful

He's caring

He's protective

And he really really loves you so much

He thinks you make him a better person

Like he was incomplete before you came around

"Meeting you was like finding the last missing piece of a puzzle."

Man that's cheesy. But sweet.

Oh maybe that was just a set up to get you to do a puzzle with him

Eh still sweet

I also think he would appreciate if you made him coffee in the mornings sometimes

If you're a coffee person, have some too!

Tea person? Or anything else? He'll stock up on what you like once he realizes you like it

He sleeps in late sometimes though, if you're a morning person you're fending for yourself with drinks

Other Trolls are happy seeing you with him during the day also

Especially Poppy

"So happy to see you branching out!!"

Bunker Bucket List: Learn to love again

Check ✅

#trolls #fanfic #headcanon #writer #writers on tumblr #writing #trolls x reader #trolls branch #branch #dating headcanons #I took inspiration from both the movies and the series #reauests are open #writeblr #branch x reader

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sokkadora · 20 days

Note

Protective/ knight in shining armor Wrecker that’s fluffy with a bit of steamy. Like with a regular civilian reader who he has a soft spot for.

too sweet — wrecker x reader

summary: you can handle yourself quite well, but when a handsome clone comes along and protects you and your business without question; who are you to refuse?

a/n: hope this lives up to your expectations anon! <3

wc: 647

warning(s): rude man 💔, a bit steamy (i’m not great at smutty stuff yet so pardon, me projecting my hate for customer service as a girl working as a waitress 🙏

︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .

“We quite literally have a minute until we close, sir,”

The Rodian before you continued to ignore common courtesy, still trying to force his way into your restaurant on Ord Mantell. You held a hand out and it stopped him for a moment, but he brushed past you. You groaned, following him back into your establishment.

“One minute more to serve!” His voice booms through the empty lobby as he walks to the cash register. You rub your forehead, placing a hand on your hip.

“Sir, I have to tell you again that we are now officially closed,” You inform him sternly, unaware of the presence looming in the doorway. “Everything’s been washed and put away, I’ve sent my employees home with their tips, and just took note of today’s earnings. We’re not accepting any more customers now that we’re closed.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” He scoffed, eyes narrowing at you. “I’m here, offering you money, and you turn me away?!”

“If you come back tomorrow before closing, I’d be more than happy to serve you,” You offered out some sort of olive branch, hoping he’d just take it and leave— but of course; he does not.

But before he can say anything else, his gaze lands on something behind you; eyes widening.

You try to turn your head to see what he’s seen, but a large, warm, and familiar hand lands on the small of your back and a kiss presses to your temple. The potent smell of sweat, smoke, and vanilla creeps into your senses, and you turn to see your gentle giant.

“There a problem ‘ere?” Wrecker asks the much shorter man, voice loud and firm enough to cause him to flinch. His stare moves to you and he glares sharply right into your eyes.

“Your spouse here just lost a customer, is all,” The Rodian straightens up, finally walking over to the door. “Good night.”

Huffing out a sigh, you yelp as Wrecker lifts you by the waist and spins you. You begin giggling happily before he pulls you down into a warm embrace. His large hands dug into the fabric of your work shirt, but you could care less; your love was home and that was all that mattered.

“You alright, mesh’la?” He gently sets you back onto your feet, hands engulfing your head gently as he caressed your cheeks softly.

“Better now that you’re here,” You admit softly, turning your head and planting a kiss to his callused palm. His heart fluttered at the sight of your vulnerability. Wrecker was well aware of your ability to fend for yourself, and it made him so happy that you were willing to trust him enough to catch you if you really needed his help— with absolutely anything. He’d do anything for the most important person in his life. “It’s good to see you in one piece.”

“Had to get back to my girl,” He grinned down at you, leaning down and planting a kiss to your lips. His grin grew even wider— something you didn’t think was possible, —- as he leaned down and wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting and setting you onto the counter. He pecks you once more, “My riduur,”

Your thighs tightened around his hips in a knee jerk reaction as he let his head fall to the crook of your neck, kissing upwards. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be used to him calling you that— not that you were complaining.

“Missed you so much,” He slides his hands down your sides, settling them on your hips as he rested his forehead against your own. “I hate being away from you. Makes me miserable.”

“I missed you too, love,” You swallowed thickly, resting your hands on his shoulders. “Thought about you every second of every day.”

His right hand rose to rest on the side of your neck, thumbing your bottom lip softly, “Every second?”

“Every second.”

He grinned, picking you up and beginning to walk to your office, “Let’s make up for lost time then.”

#wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #wrecker tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #zoe’s works #my works

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ninjaturtlemaniac · 9 days

Note

Do you have some groppy (grey branch x poppy) headcanons? how did they meet? first invitation poppy gave branch?

Hello Gorgeous 💖 Let's do this.

Groppy (Grey Branch x Poppy)

Branch knew that the new baby princess existed of course, sometimes seeing her during announcements from the King.

Poppy learned of the little grey trolling when she was older. Being told by Peppy "Have patience and be extra kind to him if they ever crossed paths."

Branch lived in a Trolling group home. (Trollstice understandably would have resulted in a lot of orphans)

All the Kismet Trolls lived there too, but they were eventually adopted and fostered out, leaving Branch alone again.

Branch didn't go to school with the rest of them. He was already a smart kid and taught himself what he needed to.

His days were spent digging.

Other Trolls had given up on him by this point, not knowing how to help and just letting him do his own thing.

The first time Branch officially met Poppy was her 13th birthday. 🎂 This one was particularly big because Poppy was officially a teenager and she had organized this one herself.

This was the first of her hand made scrapbook invitations.

While he didn't attend the party, he happened to be nearby. This one was especially loud so he had come to warn people about the noise. (Very Trolls 1-ish)

And he finally met her. 💖

The first thing she did was smile that smile at him and say that she was soooo happy that he was here. 🩷

He told her to keep the noise down, and he left.

Whilst at the time he was annoyed, he remembers it being the first time in a long time that he felt someone had genuinely been excited to see him. They didn't look at him with pity or frustration or guilt. ❤️

Everyday Branch heard Trolls say that they thought Poppy was perfect. (He agreed) He already had a rough history with 'perfection' so he was more sour towards the princess than he intended. "I hate that you're perfect" 😔

Poppy originally thought Branch didn't come to her parties because he happened to be going to other parties at the same time. 🎉

When she found out he was being invited to parties but not attending, she was fine with it, it was his choice.

When she found out she was the only one still inviting him to anything, it broke her heart. 💔

She was determined to invite him EVERY.SINGLE.TIME

Even if he never ever ever came, she wanted him to always know that there was at least one Troll who wanted him around.

#dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls movie #trolls branch #branch x poppy #poppy trolls #trolls poppy #princess poppy #branch trolls #groppy #broppy #trolls broppy

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kokomos · 10 months

Text

𝗠𝗬 𝗙𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗬 𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗘

au! no apocalypse abby anderson relationship headcanons

tags: no outbreak, college student abby, fluff

+ The beginning of Abby's life started out like one from the movies. For a while, life for the Andersons was perfect, until her mother tragically passed away. It was a shock to the whole family, but Abby barely remembered the woman by the time she had turned four and those few memories were now lost for good.

+ Since Jerry raised her by himself, practically since birth, Abby evidently lacked a mother figure. There were the other kids' moms but not one she could call her own. The fact that she had no mother hadn't bothered her much before, actually she rarely ever thought about that part of her life. Until middle school when she hit puberty and Jerry realized that no amount of effort he put in could match that of a woman, someone who knew exactly what Abby was going through. Consequently, Marlene started coming around more to help out; Jerry regarded her as his closest friend and believed she would be a good role model for his daughter.

+ Abby went on to pursue medicine, more specifically surgery but she's still wondering which branch. It's leaning towards neurological surgery, the same as her father.

+ Aside from her medical studies, she plays for the college's lacrosse team. Needless to say, she's the best on the team. Teammates love her, coaches, student fans... Hell even the other team can't help but practically swoon over her. She's just so naturally charismatic and considerate, it doesn't matter if she's on the field. You can catch her checking up on the other players to ask how they're feeling or to give them borderline unwarranted praise. It's just a game at the end of the day, and although she wants to win, enjoying the sport with everyone is more important.

+ You and Abby literally run into each other when meeting for the first time. She's rushing to class because for the one time ever she's late; when suddenly she turns a corner and bumps right into you. For some reason, she disregards all previous efforts in favor of asking you out.

+ She lives at home with her dad, opting to commute rather than dorm. Given that it's been just the two of them for so long, leaving Jerry behind would fill her with too much guilt. Abby doesn't care about living away from campus, especially since Jerry respects her and every part of her life, even the parts he may disapprove of.

+ Don't let Jerry catch you with Abby when she's skipping class. Once or twice is a lapse in judgement, but any more is a pattern and it'll make him think you're a bad influence. He'll scold her in front of you, no shame.

+ Jerry secretly enjoys your presence in the house, noticing how it seems more full of life when you're over. Try to study with Abby, medical terminology is the easiest to help with being that it requires nothing but a term and definition to teach. A couple flashcards later and Jerry will practically give you his blessing.

+ Speaking of, she can't wait to get married. It's something she's dreamed of since she was a little girl; to be so in love with someone that you decide you'll be together for the rest of your joint lives... It was a cute belief until she learned about divorce. Still, she remains overly optimistic in terms of love, believing that whoever she's meant to be with will find her.

+ And you, you really make her happy. She's always been a joyful individual but you've taken that tendency to new extremes.

+ Abby uses old-fashioned dating moves like the ones she's observed from all the classics her dad made her watch in order to 'educate' her. Out of the blue, she'll show up on your doorstep with flowers and chocolate; it's a timeless gift. Takes you on surprise dates when you let her. One time she took it too far and surprised you with dinner to some high-end restaurant you've been wanting to try. Thoughtful idea with an awful execution since you didn't dress for the occasion at all. She didn't even notice until you pointed it out, she was too busy looking at your pretty face to care about anything else.

+ Does not let you pay for stuff! Jerry gave her a card under his name when she turned 18 because he wanted Abby to have total focus on her education and extracurriculars (alongside an active social life). He trusts her completely and knows she's not the type to abuse his kindness by making useless and/or expensive purchases.

+ Dates with you are a necessity, though; it's a weekly thing the two of you committed to within the first month of getting together. Abby thinks it's crucial to set aside one night to eat together face-to-face, she finds the whole ordeal intimate and domestic in an unexpected way.

+ It's probably a month or two in the relationship that she asks if you want to spend the night. In the morning she's almost begging you to sleep over again that night, telling you she'll order in your favorite food and the two of you can watch a movie before a fuck cuddle sesh.

+ The smartest gf ever, she likes keeping you informed on the subjects she's learning about in class. It actually helps increase some of your medical knowledge just by being around her, she's a natural teacher after all.

+ She tries to see you as much as she can around her busy schedule. If she can't see you that day she calls and texts when she's got a second to be on her phone; And she always makes up for lost time. After a quick reunion, she'll lock the two of you in her room for hours, letting you know exactly just how much she missed you.

+ Abby has a bright future ahead of her in this world, one she plans on sharing with you.

— ♡☆

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x you #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us x reader #the last of us imagine #the last of us fluff #the last of us headcanons

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grapejuicestyless · 7 months

Note

i’m rlly sad summers gone but like I have a winter request for conrad so we good !!

fem reader (conklinnn ofc) and conrad used to date but then had a messy breakup so now everyone is in college and yn doesn’t have anywhere to go because everyone is off doing something for winter break so she takes stevens car and drives down to the summer house and conrad shows up a day later and she’s freaking out. They both stay there the whole week and romantic feelings and nostalgia builds up again 🤌🏻

you can add some of your own stuff too because your soooo creative and your work is golden!! thank you:)

Peace.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Angst to fluff!

Summery: After a hard loss, both in a relationship and with the severing of the ties of her past, Y/n must learn to let go in order to gain what she so desperate wants back.

Snowfall is always overlooked. People see it as more of an inconvenience than as a gift. Each little white flake falling from the sky seems like nothing more than a mushy ball of frozen water made to block the roads and keep kids out of school, but the closer you look the more complex they are.

What was once so horrible becomes something beautiful, something unique. There is no other thing like it, each flake is different even by one branch in the pattern. It’s sad how many people are so quick to dismiss it and pout out their windows. White was never their favorite color and the cold was never their favorite temperature.

At this time of year, I usually considered myself lucky. I had a family who cherished each snowfall and a mother who would have hot-coco ready on the table for when our red cheeks and icy hair would become too much and we would finally come back inside to melt and warm up again. Each winter break my younger siblings, Steven and Belly would be attached at my hip. Having an older sister who only grew more and more, our time together always felt limited. So we spent each day in the living room. Playing the Wii with Steven and Barbies with Belly. I would read with my mom and cook with my dad. It was all so perfect. My favorite time of the year.

I used to joke with Conrad that college didn’t hold the same amount of excitement around the season because people were just as bitter and cold all year round. I called him cold hearted too because he thought it was funny. He laughed and kissed me then. I wonder if he would laugh now. Even if we no longer shared a stocking and cozied up by the fireplace impossibly close declaring our quiet loves for each other. I wonder if he still thinks fondly of the winter like I do now that it’s tainted with old memories of us.

Usually, during the winter I would drive down to Boston. It took some convincing for Laurel to allow her daughter to drive so far in such intense weather, but she knew where my heart belonged. It was the holidays and she was just as jolly as the rest of us, so she would always agree. There, I would bring gifts for all the Fishers. I didn’t have enough money to afford gifts and college, so everything was homemade. Every year I would apologize, but Susannah and Conrad always claimed to love it. Jeremiah wouldn’t say anything, but the smile on his face was always genuinely happy, so I think he liked them just as much.

Conrad would take my mitten clad hands after. Even covered in thick wool he managed to clasp his hands fully around mine, eager to get me alone. We’d slip away into his room, my cheeks red and eyelashes covered in snowflakes and his eyes wide and smile full. Behind closed doors, we could be as affectionate as we wanted without gags of jealousy disguised as disgust from Jeremiah or swooning from Susannah over how cozy we looked.

I remember how I believed my hips were made with dips so his hands could fit perfectly in them. How his arm rested on my waist so tight, I didn’t need a blanket because he kept me warm. No fireplace or layers of coats could light the flames in my heart and keep me warm in the coldest winters like Conrad could.

He said summer was his favorite season when he met me, but now he favored winter because it reminded him of me. I asked what would happen if something were to happen to us, just to tease him then. He got serious, I still remember the look on his face when he told me I would always be his favorite thing. How winter would forever remind him of me and no matter what, nothing could change that fact.

It was our own little secret oasis. A utopia of our own confined within the four walls of his childhood bedroom. When it snowed, we’d play in the snow like children and when it stormed we’d make forts to watch our favorite winter movies. It was a dream I never wanted to end, I was foolish to think it wouldn’t.

By spring, it felt like he was tired of me, of who I was. No amount of effort could keep Conrad beside me. I became someone he wasted his time on rather than someone he begged to be around. My skin was like fire to his touch, his eyes avoidant. It all came to a head when I broke down in late May.

“Why, why am I not enough?” I begged him then, I wanted to know what my problem was. Why I couldn’t be more than what I was now. Why we couldn’t go back.

He shrugged his shoulders, looking past my left shoulder. He looked distant. He knew it just as well as I did, we were walking on eggshells.

“Because you’re just not.” His words were bitter, knives stabbing me through the heart and ripping out. There was no reason, he didn’t even try to make the gashes in my heart better.

“Bullshit. I do everything for you! I give you everything!” It came out more as a question than a statement. I wasn’t as sure about what I once believed so firmly now that Conrad was showing how he felt.

“I guess it wasn’t enough then.” His eyes were watering. We were already talking in the past tense, we were over. He didn’t have to say it, neither did I. It was as clear as the freckles on his face, there was no amount of mending that could pull us back together.

In my mind I could only remember those final words we spoke to each other. The first hour of our long argument was washed from my mind for my own sake. What should’ve been tattooed permanently in my brain was gone the second we were over. Maybe if I could remember it fully, each insult and every word he used to put me down and make me feel small, I would’ve been able to feel justified in my anger. I could talk shit with my friends, shit on him to my mother. But even in my heartache, I couldn’t find reasons to be mad at him.

Conrad always went through so much on his own. It would be selfish of me to believe that he was completely okay when things ended. It was messy and sudden the way it happened. He was the biggest dick to me, but I couldn’t blame him for what he did. Not then, not now. Part of me still loved him. Part of me would still die for him in secret. He was my first love, all I knew when it came to my feelings. I let him rule my heart, my decisions. I didn’t show up to Cousins that summer.

Now that it was over, no ties binding us together, no overbearing reason to drive down to Boston for the weeks leading up to the holidays where we’d all finally be together again, I have no where to go. Steven was old enough to be on his own now, a freshman at Princeton. One of his rich friends had dropped by within the first twenty four hours to drag him off to his families vacation home. I hadn’t even set up the Wii yet. Belly, my littlest sibling who I adored more than anyone else I knew was more distant than Steven. The stress of deciding between Finch and Jeremiah or some state school with the guarantee of being on volleyball was eating her alive. Back then, I would’ve told her not to lose sight of her dreams and life because of some boy, but here I was doing the same thing. I stayed quiet and let her decide what she wanted.

My mom was gone just like Steven. Away to talk about her book with other critically acclaimed writers and producers. My dad was out of the picture. He wouldn’t be back until Christmas morning. He was never really present after the divorce, but he’s a good man and he tries his best. He just works a lot. It hurts to not be able to enjoy the holidays like I used to, but I can respect why everyone’s away.

Somehow, I end up in Stevens drivers seat. I’ve never had a car of my own. While Steven spent weeks searching the internet for a cheep car, I spent my time studying for finals and applying to colleges. I never had the time. He gave me his keys before he left. He said I could take his car anywhere I wanted as long as I didn’t ruin it. Each dent in it, I would owe him ten bucks. It wasn’t much, but to a struggling college student, ten dollars in my bank account might as well have been him asking for hundreds.

“Belly, I’m heading out. Call me if you need me, okay? I might not be back for awhile.” The words I chose were ominous. I didn’t tell her where I was going, why I was going or how long I’d be exactly, but she didn’t care enough to ask. So I climbed into Stevens car and let my playlist shuffle. I imagine myself in the situations my favorite artists write about and sing along like I can relate to their upper class parties and juvenile activities. It keeps my mind off of where I’m going.

It’s not like I got in the car set on heading to the one place that once swore to never step foot near again, but when I recognize the signs on the highway pointing me in the same direction, I’m suddenly set on it.

The sting of the breakup lingered like a tattooed kiss, a reminder of something so special that was now gone. I wouldn’t let him ruin the place that was once so special to our families.

Pulling up to that driveway, I remember how the weeds would grow over the gravel by July and how Steven and Jeremiah would stay out for hours plucking at them to make Susannah happy. How the grass held the imprints of our small bodies rolling around the hills and daffodils. The sand was forever glued into the fabric of our favorite t-shirts and the salt air is what we smelled of until December washed it away.

We were always so close here. Despite the rifts and the problems that happened between us. Not blow out fight or silent treatment could ever separate the Conklin’s and the Fishers from each other for long.

I looked back on how I felt at home. How together was something that I never even questioned. Steven would be by the fireplace yelling at the television and Belly would be begging him to quiet down. Laurel would be curled up in the corner scribbling things into a notepad and dad would try to sneakily move the elf on the shelf.

We were older now. The wii wasn’t all that special and Belly longed for the chaos she once hated. Steven preferred his friends and mom and dad fell out of love so mom could learn to love her work more.

I pulled into the large house through the garage. I knew the code by heart, it was my phone passcode. I figured that if I wanted to stay attached to homeliness so badly I could be where I learned what love was the best.

In my head, even now I always believed that no matter how long it would go untouched, the summer home would always be bright and warm. Smelling of Susannah’s candles and Belly’s sticky iced teas.

Stepping through the front door, it was dark and cold. My breath was less visible than in the outside, but the light and heat didn’t bounce from wall to wall like it always did.

It took me a few minutes to find the correct switch to turn up the heat. I cranked it until my socks burned on my feet and a sweat covered the top of my forehead. It was comfortable, I could sink into my own chunky sweater.

It was my mothers, the blue and white striped sweater I wore. She was gifted it by Susannah in their late college years but it never quiet fit her because she was so short. It fit big, but it didn’t sag at my knees or gather at my wrists as much. It smelled like my mom and reminded me of Pennsylvania skies.

The warmth from the heat and the comfort from my clothes set me in a slump, my eyes drooped. I hadn’t even turned on any lights yet, hadn’t gone up to my room to make the bed. I was sat in place on the permanently indented couch. Though my body curled into the spot where I always laid during movie nights, my head fell where Conrad’s lap would’ve been. To imagine we were all just as happy, as close made me feel fuzzy. If I tried hard enough I could even hear his voice. Calling for me, like a dream.

The sun peaked through the windows and the dust that collected on the once neatly kept glass projected tiny shadows and spots across the hardwood floor. The couch was warm with my body heat and other than the faint whisper of the wind, it was peaceful.

A melodic whistle blowed through the open gap between the living room and the kitchen. It was smooth yet broke when the song grew too high for the deeper voice that carried the tune.

Rubbing at my eyes, my feet swung out from under my thighs, I wiped away any drool or signs of slumber. Still, clearing my complexion did not rid my body of the tired achey feeling and the small blurring of my vision. My brain was following behind my body, every caution sign to who was here at this time thrown to the wind.

Mugs clanked together clumsily, my nose burned with the strong scent of coffee beans. It was chillier in the morning here than how I had left it at night, I could feel the tip of my nose turning red and growing colder.

A taller boy stood hunched over the countertops, a spoon clinking around softly as he stirred around something in the mug. His shirt hung loose on his body but his pants fit just right.

His hair was wavy, but only just at the ends. Under the strong smells of early morning caffeine, I could faintly still pick up the scent of sea salt and a spice I couldn’t name. It was vanilla like but also had a lingering smell of oak and woods. It was my favorite smell.

“Conrad..?” It clicked in my brain that the handsome boy hanging around the summer home wasn’t some pick me up sent from heaven. The reason behind my instant admiration for such a simple, domestic task was because of how well I knew and once loved the boy. The name fell from my lips quietly, like I couldn’t believe it was true.

Spinning around, I met his blue eyes. I watched his lips twitch, fighting against some kind of emotion from spreading across his face and the light in his eyes falter. He looked blank, unaware of how his lack of enthusiasm of our reuniting was crushing me inside.

“Figured you’d want coffee.” He was right. He still knew me like the back of his own hand and that was the worst part. I hadn’t changed, I never would. He would always know me and it hurt to know I trusted him like that at one point just for him to leave. He even made it in my favorite mug.

A light blue ceramic mug that still had Belly and Conrad’s fingerprints in the clay and visible brush strokes across the top. They made it for me when we were still little. It was my favorite gift from her because they made it as an apology. For breaking my old vase I made for my mom in art class. They meant to harm and felt horrible, I cherished their kindness more than anything.

“No…no. I’m all set.” Crossing my arms and clearing my throat, I set my eyes on the ground and leaned against the doorframe on the wall. We didn’t speak after that, he didn’t move. Sucking in his lips, I heard him sigh almost disappointedly.

“So…” He tried to start, I was too scared to listen. Not of him, god I could never be scared of him. But of what he could want to say.

My eyes flicked over the dents in the floor, I discovered marks I hadn’t seen before. Just when I thought I had everything memorized. When I thought I knew everything, when I thought I knew him.

“You know, uhm…I think I’m going to settle in.” Nodding at him quickly, I all but ran to the stairs. My hands gripped at the banister so quickly, I felt skin pull skin. It tore just under my fingers beginning, the top of my palm. I swore I heard him call after me, but maybe it was the ringing in my ears.

I came here to get away. In search of some solace, I grasped at the tattered strands of my childhood to find that I had held on too long. In my own journey, by some sort of fate, I dragged along a deeper part of those memories with me.

I spent that morning stowed away in my bedroom. I left the door ajar. The air was chilly still, and the air dusty. The heat had rarely been used. Only on the rare occasions in which Susannah would find reason to escape down to the beautiful town of Cousins. Simply to watch the early snowfalls or sparkling lights decorating the center of the town. Usually when I would get settled into my own room in the summer home, each knickknack would be thrown carelessly over the bureau top and shoved in the forever empty bedside table drawers. I would procrastinate making my bed last. I hated the damned fitted sheets and the wrinkles I couldn’t flatten for days. I hated the way that the corners never stayed. My body stretched as far as it would go, yet I could never quiet hook the fabric far enough to keep it settled.

Today was no different. My blood boiled the same, but it mixed with an unfamiliar warmth. How endearing it was to be able to relive such a memorable moment of my summers again even after tragedy struck the once uniting household.

“Fuck.” The sheets flipped up. The full sized mattress was far too wide to allow my arms to stretch across the full width of its body and hook the corners over far enough to where they wouldn’t slip. Each move resulted in a different kind of release with the bedsheets. Each time I ended up wrapped up in the thin cotton sheets.

The clock ticking on my bedside table taunts me. Reminds me of how long I’ve been tangled around in my bed. If it weren’t so humiliating, I would’ve asked for help. But I created a mess. My feelings, one’s that Conrad had so clearly buried as he was able to be kind and cordial towards me while I panicked like a fish out of water. So I hop around from corner to corner desperate to finish my task.

“Y/n?” The name burns the way it rolls off of his tongue. Like even with me gone, he had practiced pronouncing it in the mirror, whispered it to himself each night. It was like we’d seen each other the day before, the way it came out. Breathless and light.

The moon hung over the house, illuminating thin strips of shine through the windows that led from the floor to the very bed I was sprawled across.

Sighing heavily, I threw my head back. Hair fell in front of my face, tickling the bridge of my nose. I saw Conrad hesitate. His hand flinched out from where it was tucked behind the doorframe. He set it on the white wood frame.

“Can I help?” It was innocent enough. Maybe he was sick of the sound of my knees rubbing against the mattress. Or the way I grunted every few minutes. I stumbled around my room all day fixing it up, I almost forgot how loud it could’ve been.

It felt sour to accept it. Even if it were as innocent and kind as it seemed. Conrad had a glimmer of hope in his eye and his lips upturned. He looked so handsome still, nose pinker from the slight chill and eyes still just as deep blue.

“No thank you.” I huffed. I tried to sound annoyed, something that was hard to do when you weren’t really all that annoyed at all. Resistant was the only similar thing I could place a name to. I saw the wag Conrad’s smile faltered, his eyes looming with a dark shadow, masking the vibrant sparkle.

“Come on, don’t be so stubborn, please? You’ve been at it for hours, just let me help.” Stubborn. Just like my mother and his. Each of us were always set to do things on our own. But this was far more than just genetics at this point. This was my own grudge I was holding. This was my pride and my responsibility over my emotions acting. No matter how nice the gesture, I still refused, gnashing my teeth.

“Oh, so suddenly you care?” It was a lot more mean than I meant it. I know how much Conrad cares. How much he always has. He doesn’t have the best way to show for it, but in the end you always know it. It was a mistake, an instant regret. I watched how his face contorted. He wasn’t just disappointed now, but genuinely hurt by my own dig at his insecurities.

His whole life, Conrad always feared he wasn’t enough. He couldn’t give enough, couldn’t be enough. He always talked himself down, creating a false standard in which everyone else was above him, out of his league. He was insecure. He didn’t need reassurance, he knew what kind of love was real and what was fake, but the fact that maybe I had thought the same crushed him. I could tell.

His silence hung over us so heavy, a knife could slice it. His jaw stuttered and his eyes blinked slow. A loss for words. I wish he could just yell at me. Fuel my fire, make me feel less bad about what I said. Less guilty about the fact I couldn’t get over us when he could. Conrad didn’t deserve my emotional daggers directed at his heart simply because we split. I know Conrad, I always have. His method of leaving was cruel, but the boys heart was in the right place always.

“Fuck!” The sheet snapped back. I had enough. In all seriousness, I should’ve stopped to talk to the boy who was so clearly hurt by the door. A girl, a guest in a house that once felt just as much as hers as his was there in a now occupied room throwing insults unprovoked when he was trying to be nice.

Standing, I stumbled past him clumsily again, taking a spare blanket that hung off the end of the bed with me. I couldn’t take it. His stares, the silence, the sheet, my own guilt, my thoughts. I needed to be out of that sickened room.

“Y/n…” Again, the call was faint. A whisper in my head whose only goal was to make me stop. I didn’t turn. It was unfair, the whole thing. To me, to Conrad. I decided to sleep on the couch.

My back ached. The plush cushioning under my back too soft, too worn in. A good remedy, a great place for a quick nap. But it hurt after more than a few hours. The fabric rubbed harshly, the pillows sunk in. My hips popped when I stood.

The sun was shining through the windows, air crisp. Heat finally reached all corners of the large house and the cob webs were finally swept away. The magic of summer wasn’t there, but it felt homely. A good alternative to the sad loneliness of my own bedroom at home.

The house was still, the kitchen untouched and an empty mug in the sink. It was stained in a ring from where the old drink had been and had little brown streaks from where the coffee dripped off of the sides. The counter tops were cold, despite the heat inside. The floor was quiet, there was no shuffling. It led me to believe that the only other occupant was still asleep.

Heading up the stairs, I picked at my old clothes. The discomfort came from multiple things. The way my clothes stuck to my body, my teeth didn’t feel right in my mouth. My hair was knotted. I looked fine, but nothing felt right. The only way to describe it was that when waking up after a rough couple of nights, it felt like my skin didn’t fit right over my bones.

My door was wide open. The hinges bent all the way back, the light bled through the curtains. My already slow steps came to a halt when the threshold fell behind my legs. My bed was decorated with the same blue floral design it always had during the summers.

The pillows were placed where I always had them, and my blankets were hung so neat on the bottom of my bed. My fingers ran over the soft fabric like it wasn’t really mine. Like I was admiring a sample from a store, wishing it were mine. It was always so pretty.

My thumb hooked over the folded edge very carefully. I didn’t want to mess with the perfectly made bed. More importantly, I didn’t want to crease the remaining hand prints that laid in the center of the bed.

The plushy duvet left residue from bigger hands. Spread along the bends, from the center down. Proof that someone had truly tried their best to perfect it.

Looking under the top, not only had each layer been placed, but the fitted sheet. I could see it now with all its layers peeled back. The thought that even after my initial attempts to push away, to be mean, to hurt him, that Conrad had still wanted to help me made me feel warm. I wasn’t sure why my heart was fluttering for a boy I swore I hated. But my cheeks were red and my knees felt weak. I always did love his acts of service.

I didn’t plan on showering, but my skin was sticky with sleep and my heart was pounding too fast. I hated the fact that Conrad was too good for everyone in his own special ways. I hated the way he still cared and the way he remained so observant even in our absence. Most of all, I hate the way I reach for his shampoo in the shower. Longing for the scent of him to linger on me for just a little longer. How funny it is that we’ve changed so quickly and yet not at all. We used to share our hair products. He kept a hair tie for me in his bedside table. I had a drawer of clothes in his room, he had some in my closet. He went from my everything to just something in my life. Yet, with all this change I still reach for the familiarities of what we once had. My hand still searches the shower for his conditioner. My feet still take me to his door to find a shirt I like. What we had is gone, crushed under the weight of our separation, but my muscle memory pulls me back. The heart is a muscle, one that forever beats for Conrad Fisher.

I sit in the corner for longer than I lather the soap across my skin. My body is curled up against the cold tiles. I feel pathetic doing so. How small I’ve made myself. Not only mentally, but physically. I feel weak at how little self control I have. I think back on the past year of my life and I regret each decision I’ve made leading me here suddenly.

Was I not enough for Conrad? I know it’s not his reasoning behind his leaving, but I feel like the theory becomes more and more plausible the longer I think back on how lonely I’ve been. So stuck on my own problems, I forget how little I see my family. How Belly has grown without me. Her friends, her lovers. She is independent, she knows her path. Steven has matured. He understands feelings, he’s valedictorian. His brains lead him through life, he no longer comes to me at midnight to ask for help with math. I no longer review his essays or read his made up stories in the living room. We are two different siblings who once spent every moment together. My mother is nose deep in her own promotion with her books. She is succeeding while my father is going on dates and moving on. I am stuck in the same spot, forever thinking of the past, I can not move on.

I am scared by the knowledge that my family is no longer dependent on me. A scab is forming over the wound of the fact that Conrad has left, I am not needed. I hope the warm water fading into a cooler drizzle will hide the way my eyes are puffy and red. The streaks of water on cheeks will become streams of the shower. I am strong and resistant like my parents, but I am scared to admit that I have real fears. Ones that control my life. I will never tell them how I breakdown, how my heart is breaking and I am falling off the pedestal.

It’s more lively now then it was just an hour ago. The birds are gone, on vacation away in the warmer weather while the cold covers New England in a chilling blanket. I hear the mugs clattering from the hallways and the soft humming passing through his pink lips. He hears me before he sees me.

“Coffee?” He motioned to the brown liquid, steaming while it poured into the glass pitcher. Rubbing beneath my eyes, I could feel the weight of my eye bags heavy on my skin. My throat was coarse, hands aching from how hard I had grasped onto the shower walls. I hid behind the island counter on the stool. My body curled up into the baggy clothes covering my body, my knees hugging into my chest as close as possible.

“Yes, please.” I mumbled softly, trying not to show any weaknesses. Conrad knew me better than that. The way my lip twitched into a fake smile, how my eyes were more avoidant that usual. Even in my heavy feelings, my eyes were always drawn to him. I was closing myself off.

A beat passed. Conrad’s attempt at conversation had fallen short, right by my feet.

“How’d you sleep?” He turned to me, freshly brewed coffee sloshing around in the same mug as yesterday. He placed it in front of me, but he turned away again to pour his own cup. It wasn’t to further distance himself, creating a divide all while I was shutting down, but to give me room to breathe in a space I was so clearly suffocating in.

“It was okay.” I sighed, hand holding my head, my eyes closed. I imagined myself laid with my back pressed against plush pillows and my childhood bedroom fairy lights hanging over my head. It was still winter, but the atmosphere in my daydream felt of summer.

“I’m glad, then. That it wasn’t so bad, I mean.” He corrected himself, afraid of a wrath inside of me that didn’t exist to him anymore. It never really had, my emotions had only been misplaced yesterday.

Often I’ve been told that my words shoot to kill when I’m mad. I insult and belittle myself more than others, but my mother has no problem with bringing up the few times I targeted my feelings at Steven or Belly. How little I made them feel, how guilty I felt. I threw up once, after yelling at Steven. He hadn’t cared for it, fighting was what siblings did. But remembering how I tried to hurt him made me sick. I felt the same after insulting Conrad.

Nodding my head, I pursed my lips into a thin line. My eyes blinked away any dryness, I inhaled a deep breath.

“Hey, uhm…thank you, by the way.” I pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, hovering over the cup of coffee to revel in the hot steam hitting my face.

Conrad turned around, leaning against the counter. His hands pressed up behind him, firm but his face was soft, glad.

“I shouldn’t have…you didn’t deserve that.” My eyes flickered between the floor and the folding of my sleeves over my thumbs. My skin was cold, my hair wet on the back of my neck. I had a lump in my throat.

“Y/n?” His voice was gentle, closer than before. I saw his elbows press against the counter top, just mere inches away. I felt even more awkward, littler than before somehow.

I hummed. But the coarseness in my throat made it come out as more of a rumble. I choked on the growing lump, my nose burned.

“We don’t have to avoid each other.” He said it like that was so easy. Like everything was resolved by him simply stating that he didn’t want to face the consequences of our actions.

“I know.” I brought the edge of the mug to my lips and blew. Steam clouded my vision, the wet heat felt nice on my cheeks.

“Y/n.” He said more firmly.

He wasn’t angry, but he wanted my attention. My eyes flickered up to his. They were darker now. Swarmed with so many emotions, it was hard to grasp onto what he was feeling. I set the mug down.

“Please don’t avoid me.” He begged more softly, his hand hesitated to reach out to me. Once they clasped around mine, it was almost relieving. Having something familiar to ground me while I was only working myself up. “I miss you, I miss us. We were best friends and we haven’t even spoken in…I don’t even know how long. This, this is stupid. To be running in circles like this?”

“That’s easy for you to say.” This time, my words weren’t angry. They broke apart when I spoke. The sentence was raw, the lump in my throat broke through my clenched teeth and my nose heated up in an intense burn. My eyes were heavy, working hard to keep any tears at bay. Again, here I find myself in a different spot, practicing the same habits. I stand in front of Conrad angry, ready to hurt his ego and pierce a hole through his heart just to ease my own mind.

I wanted exactly what he did, to be as close. I missed him more than anything in my life ever, but it wasn’t so simple. He pleaded my name again, I pulled my hands out of his. His fingers were like a barbed wire. It suddenly stung to have him touching me.

“I just wish you would’ve acknowledged it, you know? I mean look at me, look at us. You’re fine, you’re happy. I can’t even look at you without wanting to cry.” When our hearts broke, they broke uneven. Conrad was left with a bruise why I was facing the pain of a bleeding scar across my own. He had been the one to cause the rift, he had been the one to bring up everyone’s insecurities, use them against our relationship.

“Y/n.” He whispered, reaching out to me again. I stood from the stool, keeping my distance. My tears were hot, they burned into my skin.

“You couldn’t even stand me, Conrad! And I couldn’t see it before, but I can now. You couldn’t even text me, no. No, but that’s not the worst part. Maybe it’s the fact that you couldn’t even show up to Stevens graduation because I was there.” He sighed, ready to defend himself. I look back on all the disappointed faces, I remember the way Steven frowned at that empty seat beside me and I feel angry.

“Do you know how hard it is to tell your baby brother that his hero couldn’t make it to his graduation because he can’t even stand to be around me? Do you know how sad he was when he started to walk up to the podium and saw your seat was empty? I recorded it and sent it to you, did you know that? I wasn’t going to, I didn’t think you deserved to have a part in one of the most important parts in Stevens life, but he begged me to. Tried to make me send it twice so you’d get it.” I took a deep breath, wiping away the tears by my eyes, more spilled. My face was wet with salt water and red with anger.

“So why don’t we go back to how things were before after you’ve fucked it all up!”

“It’s really fucking unfair of you to act like this hasn’t affected me at all either!” He finally shot back. He was never one to yell. Conrad always had some sort of control over his composure. He never yelled, he hated yelling.

“How, how can you say that after you’ve done nothing to fix anything!” Walking closer to him, I saw how he turned away to grip the counter between his fingers.

“People deal with shit differently, Y/n. Grow up!” He yelled. His eyes were wild, it should’ve scared me. But god, him telling me to grow up after all he put me through only made me angrier. I was fragile already. But not as a flower, but a bomb.

“Fuck you, Conrad.” My voice was shaky, but firm. I didn’t yell, my lack of volume was almost scarier than my inevitable rage. He looked up at me, it was like watching him realize how his words had betrayed him. He hadn’t meant for us to fight, to talk like this. He wanted to fix things. He wanted me back.

“Y/n.” He shook his head, walking closer to me, he bent away from the edges of the island to reach me quicker. His voice was laced with pity

“Stop saying my name!” I backed away, feet catching on the threshold, I slowed myself down. Each time he said it, it pulled on my heartstrings. How could he be so selfish to not even be able to see all the pain I’ve been put through!

“I’ve missed you ever since I left you! You think I don’t regret the way I treated you? I’m not naïve to my own stupidity, I know my mistakes, I’ve owned them. You were my everything, god you might as well have hung the stars!” He waved his hands around to animate what he was saying. It only stresses me out more.

“Then why? Why did you throw it all away!” My body began to crumble beneath me, my knees wobbled.

“Because I was scared! I was scared of losing you. I thought if I let myself become too obsessed, that if you decided to leave me I would never be able to get back up. I had to do it!” He confessed. It all made sense then. All my unanswered questions, all my insecurities of not being enough. Conrad hadn’t left because I couldn’t give him what he wanted. He left because he was scared of what would happen when I was gone. That he wasn’t enough.

“I wouldn’t have left you, Conrad. I wouldn’t have.” My palms hit my eyes, my knees started to give. A sob ripped through my throat. It hurt to breathe.

His arms were like a blanket. His hands still fit perfectly around my back. When he held me, it was tight. I knew it then that he wouldn’t be letting me go, not now. His shirt was wet with my tears, mine was wet with my hair. I felt stupid, naïve to think of Conrad in such bad ways when he had only been doing what he thought was best to protect his heart after loss after loss.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I repeated it like a prayer, I didn’t mean to be so mean. I didn’t want to be rude to him, I wanted him to be close to me always. His heart was beating out of his chest when he nodded. He knew I never meant to fight him. We were both entitled to our feelings, there was no reason in trying to apologize for how we reacted.

His hand lifted to my head, brushing through my hair. He gathered a chunk in his palm, his knuckles gripping at it. It didn’t hurt, he didn’t intend for it to. He was breathing me in, holding onto me in every which way possible.

“It’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.” My sobs were muffling themselves, quieting down into soft whimpers. It took a lot to even nod my head against his shirt. It smelled like him, and it was homely. I felt safer now than in our argument. Our words held no value anymore, I just hoped that what he said was true.

Holding her like that almost made things feel normal again. Having her hair in between my fingers and her waist pressed against mine. I wanted to revel in it, selfishly. But her sniffles and uneven breath only made me remember why I even got the privilege to hold her again.

Again and again, I watched her breakdown over a mistake I made. To protect myself. I swore it to her last winter, promised her that it would always be my favorite season because she was my favorite thing. I built up this trust and a love between us. It was when she left that I freaked out over what my mom said.

“I’ve never seen you so happy.” She had said, poncho bc my cheek between her fingers. Playfully, I pulled my face away.

“Yea?” I mused, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and watched the steady snowfall on the final night of winter through the window.

“The love bug’s got you.” She was right. I was so undeniably in love with Y/n. I would change everything in my life just to be with her always.

“What?” My eyes squinted from the way my eyebrows furrowed. She was still looking out into the snow.

“It’s okay to be in love, Connie.” She quickly turned to me and smoothed out my shirt. She sensed my confusion and stress. I knew I was in love with her, but the fact that it was that obvious, that clear made me worry.

“Everyone has their first love at some point.” With that she left. At some point. The words rung through my head. I knew that the first love was always the strongest, but this was not my first love. I had fallen for an ex-girlfriend in freshman year. She broke my heart. Why was the thought of Y/n leaving shattering mine completely?

The more I thought of us together then, the more I worried about her leaving. She was perfect for me, maybe. But could I even measure up to her perfection? Could I give her everything?

I was able to push that feeling away for a few weeks. But as winter turned to spring and the leave began to regrow, I couldn’t shake it. Distance was a thing I was only growing between us. Space, something I created so there was no way we could get hurt. I thought it was the right thing, then. I thought it was the right move for me to let her leave so easily. To watch her fight for me one last time and not react. I was giving her the chance for someone more, someone better. I didn’t know I was only breaking her heart in ways I worried I would break my own.

It was a guilt I lived with all these months. When she didn’t come up to cousins because she wasn’t feeling good, I knew why. I had avoided her like the plague after our last conversation, our first real fight. I couldn’t even show up for her family in one of their most important milestones. Now it seemed like we only fight now, or at least in these past couple hours.

My neck was stiff from how it leaned against the back of the couch. I hadn’t watched past the hour mark of the black and white movie Conrad had put on. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I no longer liked it.

The movie was all I watched when I was at my absolute worst. Not to say I wasn’t still there, I felt rock bottom beneath my feet, but I felt myself getting better slowly. I no longer spent each day rewatching the same film over and over to ease the pain and remind myself of a happier time. I hated the way they talked. I once found it romantic, but the old cracking in the sound and the fancy accents made me angry. None of it was real.

To Conrad, he only did what he thought I would like. He had no way of knowing of my new distaste to the movie. One I used to rave about for hours. Then again, he never asked.

Yawning, I felt a set of eyes on mine.

“Tired?” He asked, a small smile on his face. I waved him off.

“Nope.” I popped the ‘p.’ It was an easy lie, my dark circles and slouchy posture gave it away. There was no way to sell it. I was surprised when he didn’t push me on it. My eyes drooped, my cheek pressed to my lonely shoulder. I had no one to lean on. I curled into myself a little, all while silently telling myself I was awake.

A pillow hit my lip, I bit down a little but it didn’t hurt me. My eyes were wide open now, hair messed up around the top. My fly aways were all over the place, my eyes squinting.

“Hey!” Grabbing the corners of the pillow, I swung as hard as I could towards Conrad, the culprit. It his his chest, he groaned out in a heavy breath. The pillow was soft, I was sure it didn’t hurt. But he entertained the idea that it did by rubbing circles in his chest, wincing and hissing through his teeth. I rolled my eyes.

“Seriously?” I leaned back against the cushions again, placing the pillow comfortably over my lap. I heard him laugh. A real, genuine laugh. It felt like weight was lifted off of my back.

“What! That was one of my best performances.” He punched my shoulder. I shot him playful glares. He pushed at me again, begging for a reaction. I folded already, giving into his games and retaliating against his childish attacks. But I would not crumble so easily. I would not let him tease me and play me until I opened up again just hours after yet another fight. I worried that another would ensue.

Sitting up, I tossed the pillow back at him. The sound he made confirmed it had hit him in the face.

“Come on, where are you going?” I could hear the smile in his voice. It made me smile too, knowing he was happy.

“To bed, I am tired.” I didn’t look back, but I felt him watching.

I swore I heard words die on his tongue. A soft stutter to a dead silence. Like he wanted to protest but stopped himself somehow. He never saw me look back, but when I was turning to the stairs, I allowed myself a glimpse.

His eyes were spacey, lip pulled between his front teeth. His eyebrows furrowed. He was deep in thought, but I could see the disappointment in his face. He didn’t seem as full of life, as cheerful. We were rebuilding a childhood, best friend bond that was lost with in cracking of our foundations in the spring.

“Goodnight, Conrad.” I still hadn’t had the ability to carry a joke with him. To keep a conversation flowing without my emotions dying inside of me before I could get them out. I whispered my goodnight. I wanted him to know I still held a place in my heart for him, but part of me wanted to reserve that knowledge to only myself.

I was scared to be more than what was being proposed. The door was open, we were almost friends. It was an odd spot. We’d act like friends, joke like them, but we both knew what we had done, what had just happened. I would walk through the entrance if Conrad would allow it. If we could at least be close, even if his lips weren’t mine, even if his body wasn’t there for me to lean on anymore. I would live happily, I’d be able to put on a brave face and call myself his friend. I would stand by the alter, watching him find another love, burying the hatchet of our love for good and I would be okay, I decided. As long as I still had him. As long as I never had to feel as alone as I did this morning.

“They’re saying borderline blizzard conditions, Con. You don’t think we’ll need to go on a supply run, do you?” His back was turned to me, hands working over the pot of coffee skillfully. His thumb brushed against the glass, he hissed quietly and shook his hand off.

“I think you’re just overthinking it.” He payed my worry not attention. He knew this house better than I did. It would hold, that wasn’t the worry. We had no shovels, nothing to dig us out of snow were to block us in. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. I made my way around the island, pushing myself off of the counter and into one of the stools perched under it.

“Coffee?” Conrad asked, ignoring my questions again. I gave into him, playing his game and being stubborn.

“What kind?” My fingers drew circles on the cold marble.

“Black.” He set the cup down in front of me, letting it come to a halt right in front of me. My eyes flickered to the coffee, a smirk fighting it’s way onto my cheeks.

“Like your soul?” Like your heart, is what I wanted to say. Something that used to come so easy, meaningless insults directed at him not to make him sad, but to make him smile. I still hadn’t answered by question, though. If I were to direct a remark at his heart, would it weigh too much under the cracking foundation of our recovering friendship? I still wondered if he would laugh at that and go along with it.

Conrad laughed, looking out the window and admiring the sky. He didn’t respond, but he never really had when I’d make those jokes. Usually he would laugh or tell me it was a good one. He sighed lightly.

“I walked right into that one.” He smiled down at his coffee now, holding the mug loose with the handle dangling between his fingers.

When silence took over the room, it wasn’t uncomfortable. We welcomed it. We were alone with our thoughts and for once, they weren’t twisted and heavy. Only happy memories and thoughts of old habits.

In my mind, I dreamed of times where I knew what to say after making a joke. What I could do to counter a snarky remark and his laughter. I always knew what to say to him, when and why. I knew what made him tick. I still knew how to set him off, I believe that once you have the ability to get under someone’s skin, you never truly lose it. Either you continue to poke at the wounds that hurt them so, or your presence is able to remind them of it. Yet, with all the loss in my every heartbeat, somewhere along the way I forgot how to keep him happy.

Conrad’s footsteps snapped me out of my clouded haze. My eyes snapped up from the counter to his face. He didn’t look at me, but stayed focused on his coffee.

“Glad to know you still got it.” His eyes flicked to me, I swear I saw him wink. It was so quick, my words died in a pathetic stutter. I smiled stupidly at him, I couldn’t even pretend to be snarky. It caught me off guard, somehow. My walls were torn down now, the barrier of anger and sadness I kept up around him to keep us apart gone with our last fight and heart to hearts. The devils in the details, but somehow it didn’t feel as deep, as life changing anymore.

It was like he knew I couldn’t think of something to promise to him. To keep us going. He surely hadn’t lost it.

I tried to rationalize everything recently. But it felt like it took over my life. I’d almost forgotten about Belly and Steven. How they’d been so quick to shut me out simply because someone had offered me a place to be wanted for a moment. Conrad always knew when to swoop in to save me. I could help but talk myself down every so often and convince myself that Conrad is not made of Angel dust. He simply is a man, and a smart one at that. All of this could be just to butter me up, I know it’s always an outcome. A way to win me back, but never want me the same. It poisons me to think about him that way, I know him. He would never play me to become the good guy.

My mind has no middle line. Constantly wavering between my lover, the man I see as the sky and the seas. I see him as a perfect lipstick stain to a white collar, uggs in the fall, hot chocolate in the winter. He is all things I love and yet I still fight. The other part of me fights my heart to keep my distance. How just hours ago I told myself the hate I had for Conrad was always going to be just that, irreversible hurt that he caused. It’s the sweetest torture I could bare in the fact that really, by the end of it my mind is set on just getting to be with him again. No matter what his games are.

It’s pathetic, but my heart strings pull a little whenever I hear his footsteps upstairs. When I can tell if he’s coming to see me or not. I like knowing he likes to be around me once more. It almost covers up the fact that he hurt me so bad. I’m not idiot, however. I wish I were in some cases, but I’m not blinded completely by my love. With every advance, I find a way to make it platonic. He’s my friend.

He said he missed me, our friendship bond. I know that he is a man of his word. I should not work myself up, I shouldn’t expect so much. I shouldn’t jump into his arms because he says go. I think rationally, I use my head. I let my heart race and my cheeks flush but ultimately my brain will stop me from messing about again. So part of me finds it sad when the power goes out later that day. For both the house and myself. It’s childish how quickly I jump in search of Conrad. I have to remind myself not to hold onto him, not to yell I told you so.

I call for his name quietly through the halls, feeling the chipping paint under my finger tips. It’s still fresh, but bumpy. A previous project of Susannah’s from when her paint brushes never seemed to dry out. It’s hard to tell if she never finished her projects that summer. Or even if she never finished any.

In the dark, it’s almost more clear to see where her brush strokes end. Where the moonlight illuminates the white and blues, you can see the divides between old and new. God, if she were any less attentive it would surely be the end of this house. It was in great condition, but some things were out of place, uncared for simply because Susannah’s mind went a mile a minute.

Smiling, I let my hands run over the wall, feet planting on the cold wood. I could feel it through my socks, with the lights out and the heat stuttering to a halt.

“Y/n/n, hey.” He sounded breathless, coming up from behind me. I hadn’t even noticed the stomping of his feet up the staircase as my fingers danced along the wall. So caught up in the past I find it that sometimes I forget that I’m living in my present. Looking around my metaphorical room in my mind, I see my chosen family. I see his brother as mine, his mother as mine. I see myself as a child again running through the sand and tracking mud through the dining room.

I know deep down I can not keep holding on, keep on keeping myself back. I can never give Conrad peace, but I can give him my sunshine, my best. He would always have a friend in me. I set my heart free then, fingers stuck to the wall, eyes flickering to my feet. I let go of my heart break and my solemn silences I throw at my loved ones for guilt. I let my walls down, I take Conrad’s hand, and I shake my head. His smile is warm, his eyes loving. He still needs me, he always has. He still loves me and my heart is racing. I finally feel like I have him back.

“You okay?” Back in reality, I’m aware that I’m not actually holding onto his hand, and Conrad isn’t really smiling at me. My heart is still in its cage and I have fallen victim to my own mind again. Conrad is not mine.

Clearing my throat, I lick at the corners of my lips. When I shake my head this time, I know it’s real because Conrad is looking at me questioningly. He is not in love with me, he is not drooling over me. The power is still out and our muddy footprints mean nothing to him anymore.

“We blew a fuse, but the generators dead. We’re just going to have to stick it out.” I nodded again, looking up at him with doe eyes. My lips were glossy with a sheen coat of spit from how much I licked them, but at them nervously. Yet, he didn’t even spare me a glance. It was almost like he was waiting on something.

“You can say it.” He finally sighed.

“Say what?” His eyes caught mine, seeing just how intently my eyes focused on his dimples and the bridge of his nose decorated with delicate freckles. I cleared my throat.

“You told me so.” He smiled, punching my shoulder playfully. He could tell my mind was drifting, he could see it, I saw the way his eyes softened. My gentle smile turned into a shit-eating grin.

A beat passed, he continued waiting on me in the dark room. I liked it in some odd ways. Enjoyed having him waiting on me for once. It wasn’t the same. How my heart waited for his apologies for so long, how I expected it because I knew one day he would come back to me to make things right in his own way. But somehow, his desire for my once overlooked jokes and brushed off comments made my cheeks warm. Like more than me in this moment, he wanted the normal us back.

“Are you going to…” He voice trailed off, my feet picked up against the cold wood floor.

“Why don’t you start the fire? I’m going to get some blankets.” I tucked the hair behind my ear, practically running to the staircase. He nodded, not that I could see it, but the silence confirmed that he had forgotten that I couldn’t truly see his nod. That along with a soft hum of approval from him.

“Oh, and Conrad.” He hummed again. His eyes glistened in the moonlight, shining brighter than any other object standing in the hallway. He waited on me patiently, slowly inching closer.

“I told you so.”

The best of blankets and pillows sprawled put along the living room floor helped to further nestle us against the foot of our white couch. The snowfall and the storm felt less like an inconvenience but a gift.

I was reminded of my childhood. Of first snowfalls and broken ice skates. Red noses and icy hair. I remember how even after the facade of perfect holidays and new years kisses faded into nothing more than a dream, how my heart still soared with excitement each coming fall. How I couldn’t wait to see the snowy powder decorating my front lawn. I get reminded of why I drove so long to see Conrad. Of his warm hugs and his soft mittens. Wearing his hats and stumbling around in the backyard. I feel less hurt by the company than I once did a few days ago. I feel blessed that by some miracle, fate had string Conrad and I back together. That his hands would forever paint my hands in a gentle love we only held, and his whispers of senseless jokes he mumbled tiredly were only mine to laugh at.

The fire crackled, roaring feverishly through the night. The snow and wind pounded against the sides of the house, and despite the chills running through my toes and my fingers, I felt warmer inside than before, rekindling our inside jokes and fueling ourselves for even more.

Soon, our soft laughter and ongoing conversations died out. Our eyes glued to the flames, I tried to catch a glimpse into Conrad’s eyes. I wanted to know what the fire would look like reflected into his blue eyes. Instead, I caught his gaze locked onto my face.

I felt embarrassed, in a way. Vulnerable under his gaze. I felt my cheeks heat up and my body tingle. I felt like a school girl again.

“Y/n/n.” He called for me softly. The only way I was sure that he’d even said it was the fact that my eyes were so trained in his pink lips. I nodded slowly.

“Why did you come down here? Why now?” Even though the question was serious, I couldn’t help but to smile at his curiosity in my life.

Taking a deep breath, I watched his flat face turn into a welcoming grin.

“Lately, I’ve just been caught up in the past, I guess. I’m just so used to coming home every winter to Steven and Belly in the living room already fighting. And my dad and mom arguing about what decorations playfully.” Conrad laughed like he could picture it. He’d never really been in my house during the holidays. Sure, the Fisher family would stop by every few months when the distance became too much, but holiday’s were usually spent apart.

“I guess when I came home this year and that wasn’t there, I kind of freaked a little. I mean, Steven just left, Belly was too caught up in her own life to care about what I wanted to do, how much time we had left. My dad was too busy to stop by and…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I almost allowed the words to slip, how the final straw was that even with the mess of my family, at least at one point I had Conrad. I had his gentle hands and his quiet promises to hold onto. When everything went to hell, it was like losing the last bit of peace. “I wanted to be somewhere I wouldn’t feel alone, I guess.” I replaced my words with this. Hoping he’d understand how much he meant to me, how much all of it meant to me.

The single puff of air coming harshly through his mouth in a sigh reminded me just how close we were. How I could feel each word falling from his lips fanning over my shoulder. We were sharing a blanket, so close yet our bodies so far.

“Y/n.” He sounded more serious. During my confession, I found a home in the floorboards. Feeling safer confessing to the air than to a man who destroyed me not so long ago. My eyes hesitated to meet his, but I could see just how serious he was.

“I regret what happened between us more than anything I’ve ever done in my life. I know I can’t reverse that, but please never say you are alone. I swear to you, no matter what, I’m there.” It was rare to hear such thing from Conrad. Maybe a grunt of a hug to assure my feelings were always appreciated. But I could see the sincerity in his face, his voice was dripping with guilt. He meant it, every word.

Nodding my head, I silently thanked him. I watched his eyes search my face. How his lips parted but shut quickly. He decided against continuing, but it was like an unspoken apology was being said between us in that moment.

With gravity pulling us together, it was only in my nature to protect my heart. I had to rip us apart before I gave in without knowing if we’d ever be the same. If I kissed him and it was just a winter fling, I couldn’t take another heartbreak.

So, in our silence, I moved my hand between us. The pad of my thumb brushing away the charcoal from the fire dusting just under his cheek. I watched how he shivered and backed away, eyes fluttering shut. All while I bit at my lip, delicate in the way I rubbed away the dust.

“Are my hands cold?” I remained focused in on him, my lips curled into a smile seeing his reaction to my touch, how he shivered but didn’t complain. He nodded his head slowly, but his eyes were still closed.

I saw how his eyebrows furrowed, it wasn’t from discomfort, but in the low light it was hard to tell. My hand curled away, ready to ease the coldness off of his skin. I didn’t expect his own hand to cover mine, holding it against his now rosy cheeks.

“Feels nice.” He mumbled almost drowsily. His eyes still hidden behind his eyelids, his other hand found mine aimlessly, gently pressing it to his other cheek. I felt his weight sink into my palms, reveling in my touch.

The band suddenly snapped. All the tension, all the build up. He was right there, so eager, so gentle. I had to know if he was still the same boy I loved not too long ago. He had set me up for an old joke.I always wondered if I could still joke with him like this. It still gnawed at me some nights.

“It’s because you’re cold hearted.” I expected him to laugh, I hoped he would. But instead, he smiled just as genuine as his old laughter, melting into my touch more than I thought he could ever. I hadn’t been able to predict what he would tell me. Couldn’t have read his lips even if I could see into the future.

“For everyone else, maybe. But not for you.” He was as honest as a man could be. With his eyelashes fluttering open, I could see it in his eyes now. How they looked back at me wide and awake. I felt my stomach flip. There was something there I had previously missed. Dancing along with the glowing of the fire in his irises, was the same spark he once carried when I was his and he was mine.

I didn’t even get to challenge it, teasing him and making him repeat his confessions. My lips stuttered on the first syllable, just before his hands smushed my cheeks with the force of how he grabbed me. He was firm, but not aggressive. He could never hurt me.

His lips molded against mine perfectly in my mind. He tasted like mint and hot chocolate. My hands tangled in his hair, his palms flat against my waist. With so little space between us, so much fever and pent up frustration, air became harder and harder to get. With each touch of his fingers, it was like tiny fires being sparked across my body.

He hadn’t even had to tell me what he felt then. Neither did I. In that moment my walls crumbled beneath my feet. All resistance was gone. In Conrad’s grasp, I felt less alone.

I knew it then. To Conrad, my mind games I played on myself, my temper and the storms that would inevitably cloud up my sunniest days, the fact that I could never give him peace did not matter. We would always be enough.

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