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[writersblockedx]

Challenged Expectations

Pairing - Loki x Fem!Reader Summary - When Loki joins the Avengers team, he certainly isn't given a warm welcome. Until one night, he opens up to yourself. Warnings - Some violence? Words - 2.5K

Masterlist

It wasn't up to you whether it was a good idea or not. Frankly, if you were sat at the head of the Avengers table, you might have suggested against it. And Tony Stalk certainly had done, but he wasn't the one at the head of the table (despite what he wanted to think); Nicky Fury was. What he said went and you weren't stupid enough to pick a fight with Nick Fury.

Tony, however, Tony was that stupid.

"He's the bad guy Fury, we put him in that prison cell in the first place!"

"It's called rehabilitation."

You glanced at Nat: head in her hands. You weren't wasting your time sat in that seat any longer. Without a word, you took your papers which you attended the meeting for and headed for the door. Your attempt to escape didn't go unnoticed; you were stupid to think that it would.

Tony's glare swapped to you, his fingers snapping before your hand could even reach the glass door which separated the meeting room from the rest of the quarters. "Hey, hey, where do you think you're going? We're in the middle of something."

"No," You gestured between him and Fury, "You two are in the middle of something and I'm not in the mood to be listening to it anymore." Just before you slipped away, you made sure to add, "And just so you know, you're wasting your breath."

You wished Tony had believed you. But he was more naive than he cared to believe.

He made it quite known to you all when the papers had been signed, that he was pleased he wasn't living in the compound. Truth was, everyone was apprehensive. Even Fury's fingers itched as the move-in day crept closer and closer. His bedroom was being made. You watched as emerald bed sheets were covered across the once blank slate of the spare room, specs of golden decor and the thing which confused you most: a bookshelf. It was never your first assumption that ex-super-villains were bookworms.

When the day finally arrived, New York was quiet. The news had broke to the public and suddenly all eyes were on the team, watching as they welcomed someone who was once such a foe to them all.

You had been watching from the training room's floor-to-ceiling windows. A beam of light shot to the entrance and there he stood, amid Asgardian and Avenger security. His wrists were cuffed, stopping him from hugging his brother as Thor welcomed him. Though, you did wonder, even if the man wasn't cuffed, would they have even wanted to hug? Thor had always spoken fondly of his brother but accepted his faults and quite brutal mistakes. To him, however, rehabilitation was an excuse he could get behind. The rest of the team still weren't fully convinced.

You would remember the next moment for the rest of your life. Just as you were staring down from the window, fidgeting with the blade between your fingers you had been practising with, the man below turned his head. And his eyes met with yours. He didn't blink, nor did he make any expression. He just stared and you could never forget the feeling of shivers which crept up your back.

It was an hour later, after you had finished training and freshened up when you met the man for the first time. Well, when he re-introduced himself.

The two brothers sat at the breakfast bar, sharing some Asgardian liquor you were far too human to even. You were, however, on the hunt for dinner. The second you stepped foot into the kitchen, their casual conversation slowed and eyes flickered to you. Ones of which you attempted to ignore. But then he stood and you had almost forgotten how tall he was when he was standing over you like that.

Your eyes had widened, his sudden stance having taken you aback. He offered a hand, "Loki," He grinned as if you didn't already know.

You shook his hand. But it was light, quick and futile. "We have met before." You muttered, opening the fridge door and trying to spot what would be the quickest to make: noodles.

 "Under much different circumstances, of course." He went on.

You glanced to him. He was still standing; why was he still standing? "Which is why it's going to take much more of a handshake to just move on."

Loki accepted that, took one look at your turned back and moved to sit back with his brother.

To be fair to the man, he didn't create much fuss about his unwelcoming welcome. In fact, he seemed to have already accepted that to be the case before he ever even stepped foot in the compound. And the rest of the team were happy with that; letting him get on with things silently. Not that it had lasted for long.

A certain heist mission had made Loki tip. He, you, Natasha and Tony were to retrieve a piece of alien tech that had fallen into the wrong hands. Some warehouse off the Amalfi cost was looking to trade said piece of technology into even worse hands. Easy job. One of which at least three of you had done several times before. Now should have been no different. But now you had Loki. Even before you stepped onto the jet, things were tense.

It got even worse when the warehouse had a better defence than any of you had imagined. "Where the hell are you guys?" Stalk chimed into your earpiece.

You and Natasha were practically back to back, protecting the few citizens who populated the small island (living right next to criminals they didn't know existed). Your blade was swirling across a soldier's throat before you dared to answer Stalk, "Me and Romonoff have our hands tied right now."

"Doing what? Kissing each other's asses." He sneered.

Your elbow hit the gut of another soldier, "I wish." Natasha huffed.

"We're at the back of the warehouse." A punch to his chin. Another. He went down after the third. Though, you weren't certain he was dead. "There's citizens we didn't know about."

Tony paused and then you heard a sigh through your ear. "Well I've got the bloody hydro-whatever it's called and I've also got a huge group of soldiers 30 seconds away from man-handling me for it!" There was an anger laced in his tone.

You glanced to Natasha who had just pulled the trigger of her gun; another five soldiers awaited their turn to fight you both. "We're tied up Tony." You admitted as you readied yourself for the bruises to come. 

There was, of course, one other option. An option of which Tony refused to ask for. So, for what you thought must have been the first time, you heard Loki's voice come through. "I'm right around the corner from you."

You never saw it happen. You just heard their voices. In the midst of keeping the soldiers in front of you at bay, you heard their argument unfold.

"What are you doing?" Said Loki, a panic growing in his tone that made it hard to concentrate and instantly raised the question: what was Tony doing? "Stalk! I'm here." A moment passed. "Pass it me!"

It was quiet when it came but each of you heard it loud and clear: "Not happening."

The travel home was mockingly quiet. Tony navigated the jet back to the compound, you and Nat sat across from one another in silence and Loki scoured the corner of the ship, as far from Tony as he could get. For once, you didn't blame him. You had failed this mission because Tony refused to work as a team. And now God knows where that piece of Tech was heading.

But even that travel home could not compare to the wrath Fury had been waiting to give you all.

"The three of you," He glared between Tony, yourself and Natasha. You had all been seated on a sofa while Fury paced the room. "Are some of my top agents-"

Tony raised his hand, "I'm not one of your agents."

"I wouldn't even start, Stalk." Fury's tone cut through the atmosphere like a knife to butter. "You're the reason we got into this mess." He made clear. "Teamwork. That's what the Avengers are, it's what we strive to create. Which was why I was certain bringing in Loki would work, his skills are what we need right now and I had my confidence in all of you that you would accept that."

Discreetly, your head turned to the dark-haired man. He was sat at the edge of the sofa while the three of you seemed huddled together. He didn't seem smug, nor did he seem upset. If anything, he was just disappointed to be sat in front of Fury this way. "You," Fury was looking only at Tony now, "It's your responsibility to make this right now. Get that tech before it blows up a European country."

The failed mission had hit all of the team. The air was thick and any words spoken between the Avengers did little to clear that. You didn't dare address it. Rather, for most of that week, you secluded yourself in your room, or the training grounds, doing whatever you could to ignore the memory of what had happened.

One night, your mind simply wouldn't shut off. It was tossing and turning around the idea of where that tech was right now and what they were planning to do with it. And as much as you repeatedly told yourself it wasn't your fault and that Tony was tracking the tech, it didn't help much with your insomnia. So rather than wallow in your bed, you crawled from it and wandered into the kitchen. A drink might just help you.

You thought you were alone. It was dark and quiet. So why ever would you think that there was someone watching you from the sofa adjacent from the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

You had practically jumped from your skin, "Jesus!" You turned, mug gripped in your hands as you faced the black-haired God. "What the hell, Loki!"

He slid from the sofa, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Your head clocked to the side, unimpressed, "Really?"

"Really." For once, he seemed sincere. "I'll ask again, what are you doing?"

"Couldn't sleep." Your gaze followed him as he slowly gained closer to you. "Thought a drink might help."

He didn't say anything, only looked back at where he was sitting. There, by the sofa he had been lying on, was a half-empty glass and a bottle of wine. "Suppose I had a different sort of drink in mind."

You don't know what pulled you to your decision but suddenly, you were putting back the mug and instead, taking out another wine glass. The man across from you smirked before leading the way back over to the living area. "I'm only doing this because I think it will help me sleep." You made clear.

"I wouldn't expect anything else." His words had given a slight tinge in your chest. One of which you chose to ignore. Anything that resembled sympathy for Loki was something you were always going to ignore, but it was something which had become more common recently. "Is it the mission?" He questioned, seemingly without a beat. "Or failed mission as everyone makes sure to name it." 

You looked to the red obis that swirled in front of you. That was easier than staring into the curious eyes of Loki, "Ding, ding, ding." Your laugh was hoarse, "I just can't stop thinking about what else I could have done."

"Nothing." His words cut through you like a dagger. Your eyes shot up; his were already trailing across you. "You and Romanoff were miles away. This failed mission was one person's fault and everyone knows that." 

Suddenly, his eyes weren't so intimidating. Perpahs they were even inviting like a warm bath ready to engulf your skin. "Are you enjoying this? Proving Tony wrong, being praised due to his downfall."

His head shook lightly, "No, I haven't enjoyed causing others embarrassment for some time now." Certainly hadn't been the answer you expected. "But I can't say I'm not happy that people are finally waking up."

His words caused your brow to quirk, "Waking up to what?" 

He chuckled into his wine, "Oh, come on, I don't need to spell it out for you." The look that you shot back at the man suggested that he did in fact have to spell it out. "Ignoring me, pretending as if I'm not there, that's only going to cause problems. In this case, a big problem." With that, he took a long sip from his glass, not breaking eye contact with you.

For a moment, you were unsure what to say. Suppose that's what you get for agreeing to sit down with the ex-villain; things were bound to get awkward. "I'm sorry we-" You stopped yourself and your gaze dropped to the floor. "I made you feel that way." You made sure to correct yourself. 

"It was to be expected."

Your eyes gazed back at him; silence. But not so awkward any more. It seemed that barrier had been broken now. A huff fell from your lips as you threw yourself further into the sofa, shoulder to shoulder with the God himself. You needed only turn your head now, only slightly, and suddenly there were only inches between the two of you. "And you don't want to be king anymore?"

He laughed ever so softly it seemed to tug you closer, like you were a fish on a hook, ready to dangle from Loki's fingertips. "No, no, my royal days are over." He seemed sure of such.

A second or so passed until you became curious again, "Then what do you want?" Why else was he here?

You were staring up at him; them inches between you were slowly getting smaller. "I'm not sure." His voice only a breathless whisper hitting your skin, erupting goosebumps. "I think I'm-" He paused as you both became ever so aware of what was about to follow. "I'm figuring things out-"

His lips hit yours. All patience was lost, the need to finish his words left him and suddenly his mind was engulfed by the thought of your kiss. And when you pulled from it, your pupils lingering on his, you should have been regretful. You should have been thinking about what Stalk was going to say, or the consequences fury would make sure fell to you or even the teasing Natasha and Steve were sure to make. Instead, all you could think about was how at peace you felt and how you were already desperate for more. 

#loki #loki x reader #loki season 2 #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fic #loki oneshot #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #natasha romanoff #steve rodgers #tony stalk #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu x reader #x reader #fanfiction #imagine #oneshot #loki laufeyson

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I just finished if it was a preference! It was so good! Omgoshhh the tension at the end THEN THEM GETTING INTERRUPTED ahahaha so cute. 🩷 Do you plan on making a part 2??

I may do if I get around to it! It might be a week or so before I get a second part out but I'll try my best :)

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If it was a Preference

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary - You had your own history with the Winchester brothers, in particular, Dean. So when the two bumped into you, accompanied by a new hunter partner, jealousy can't help but grow. Warnings - Alcohol use, mentions of violence. Words - 2K

Masterlist

Dean didn't just like you because you were a hunter. Rather, he was much intrigued by your blunt, frankly reckless approach to hunting. You weren't afraid of the monsters you faced - or at least you certainly didn't show it. He had heard of your name before. He knew that not only his dad, but fellow hunters spoke highly of you. While he was doubtful at first, he came to realise that your approach was one he was envious of. And from the few times Dean had the privilege of working a job alongside you, he came to the conclusion that you were one of the few people he actually respected.

And so bumping into you while on a hunt was a pleasure rather than a burden. He and Sam and just rolled into town, following the trail of bodies across the state to a small town. It was that night as he wandered to the bar, his eyes caught sight of someone familiar. "I'd say it's funny seeing you here, but I think we must be chasing the same thing."

Dean was surprised to see two heads turn to him: you and one of whom he didn't recognise. A man, rough around the edges and drinking a beer. He was a hunter, Dean could guess that within a second. Your lips lifted into a smile, "Dean," You were already leaning over to give the man a welcoming hug. Yet he didn't ease into it, instead, his gaze was caught onto the hunter behind you. "It's good to see you."

You pulled from the boy, "Yeah, you too." His eyes had barely noticed you.

You followed his gaze and found the source, "Sorry, this is Jamie."

The fellow hunter held out his hand and Dean shook it cautiously, "Y/n has mentioned you before, Winchester, right?"

Dean nodded, "That would be the one." He settled by leaning onto the bar, a nagging feeling clawing at his which he could quite rationalise. "So erm, how do you two know each other?" He questioned.

"We've been working together," Jamie answered, glancing to you with a smile Dean wished he could slap off him; suddenly that nagging feeling was consuming him.

"Like a month now" You added so casually as if it were normal. "Just been helpful, fiances haven't been so easy this year so we've been travelling together." 

Dean attempted to keep up his chill facade but it was breaking and you could start to see through the cracks. "Together?" He laughed at the word. "That's funny cause I thought you only ever worked alone." He was making a dig and you couldn't quite understand why.

You glanced to Jamie who was just as confused, "Like I said, money's been more difficult. Fuel and food costs less when you're splitting it." 

"Well, when I last saw you, you swore you would neve-"

"Y/n?" The taller Winchester brother busted in, cutting Dean's snarky comment short. "What are you doing here?"

The two old friends embraced, smiles licking their lips as they retracted, "On the same job as you two it seems." She answered. 

Sam shrugged and unlike Dean, when his eyes met Jamie, they didn't scowl, "And who's this?"

You never got the chance to answer Sam; "This is Jamie." Dean interjected, "These two-" His index finger wiggled between yourself and your partner. "-are working together. Because Y/n apparently doesn't just work alone anymore."

Dean's brother could tell something was itching him. As if it wasn't already written on his face, his tone had voiced his irritation. Rather let such continue, Sam sort to deescalate the situation. "Maybe it's best we head back to the motel?" His hands grasped his brother's shoulders. "Get an early night and regroup on Monday." He flashed a forgiving smile your way before pulling Dean away from the bar.

"Sounds like a plan." You nodded your head to Sam and he continued to drag his brother out of the bar.

Your eyes followed the siblings that you had grown ever so close to. Never had something like this occurred. Of course, Dean would flirt - sometimes recklessly - but you had gotten used to it. You had started to see every word that came from his lips as just his personality. He treated any woman (or sometimes man) with the very same cheeky smirk and quick pick-up lines. But this reaction, dare you admit it, but it was almost protective. Something Dean only showed when someone's life was on the line; not when bumping into an old friend at a bar. 

Nothing changed the next day. In fact, things seemed to have heightened for Dean. His brain had latched onto his envy; to have someone stand where he had always wanted to be. To have you at his side, Sam at the other, partners. It begged the question; why did you pick someone random over him?

"There's been another one." You chucked the newspaper onto the booth the four of you had been seated in.

The morning had been spent in a rustic diner, comparing theories over coffee. When the daily newspaper came out, you made sure to be the first to purchase. And as to be expected, another dead body was printed across the pages. "They're not slowing down." Said Jamie as he observed the paper. 

"We don't know if it's vampires yet." Dean warned with a stern tone littered over his tongue.

Sam shrugged, "It's our best bet." He took the newspaper, reading further into the local news. "We are, however, on the right track. Says here this happened to the town just over."

The paper dropped back to the table where you could all see it. The blood, the lifeless body, the monster that was calling out to you. "So what now?" Jamie asked, his eyes flickering between the other three. 

"Get our fake IDs, get into this crime scene." You decided.

There followed nods of agreement before Sam added, "I'll stay here, do some research, see if I can find where they're heading next."

"I'll stick with you." Jamie offered. "I'm sure Y/n can tell you, I'm not the best at the lying and acting, especially not to authority." Such was true and had almost landed you in some bad, illegal places; and people wonder why you did all this alone.

"Well then," Your eyes caught Dean's like you were in a crossfire. "Looks like it's just us two, agent."

You crawled from the booth where you gathered the fake FBI badge from your coat pocket. "Agent Johnson, really? How imaginative." Dean read the name as he stood in front of you, ever so close your chests could have brushed against one another.

"Better than some random guitarist's second name." You grew a smirk which Dean didn't dare break.

Instead, he smirked back, "They are not just random." With that, the two of you started walking towards Baby, digging deep into Dean's facades on all his IDs.

The crime scene was as to be expected. Suburban house; police tape; nosy neighbours. You and Dean were used to wriggling your way into the scene. Pushing through with ease, dressed in the smartest clothes which couldn't say any lounder that you were someone of importance. And when you finally reached the front of the crowd, the officer noticed it too.

"Excuse me," You called to the cop who was already on her way over. "We're with the state, if you don't mind we'd like to take a look around, following up on some other leads." You explained as you had done numerous times before.

With a flash of your badges, the tape was moved for your entrance, "Thank you." Dean muttered to the cop before the two of you made a B-line for the porch. "So, you're certain this is vampires?"

He opened the door and you followed him, "I never said certain." With a scan of the hallway, you deemed it safe from any wondering eyes and grabbed the EMF reader. "We've still got some things to cross off the list."

A static noise was sounded from the small machine, but no beeping; you were safe for now. "Well I just thought that because Jamie said-"

"Jesus, Dean!" You weren't even halfway down the hallway before he was bringing up the subject. "Would you just drop it? I can form my own opinion and usually, my opinion is right about a hunt."

"I'm just checking miss 'I only ever work alone'." He made quotation marks as his feet stood firmly in the midst of the hallway. He did so on purpose, blocking your way further into the house. "Who knows, maybe having a partner will change how you work." He suggested.

Your expression moulded into one of offence, "You doubt me?"

Dean could have shivered, "No." He seemed sure of that. "I doubt him. I don't know who he is and I certainly doubt he's good enough for you...to be your partner I mean." The boy added in case there was room for misunderstanding.

A sigh fell from your lips and suddenly, in the face of Dean, you couldn't keep it in anymore. "Look, I'd be lying if I said Jamie was a good hunter. He isn't. He almost got us arrested because he forgot the name on his FBI badge. He can't aim for shit, he doesn't know lore about basic monsters. I was explaining vampires to him last night right until you bumped into us." The words started pouring and you weren't stopping them. 

"So why work with him?"

"He's not just anyone Dean. He comes from a rich, very loaded, family. The only reason he knows anything supernatural is because one of their houses had a vengeful spirit which I got rid of for them." You explained. "Like I said, it's practical, not preference."

You watched in a passing moment as Dean's gaze faltered and the cogs in his brain started to turn. When he looked back at you, something seemed to be flickering within his pupils - you just couldn't work out what. "And if it was up to preference?" His voice was low as if whispering a secret.

You shrugged, suddenly unsure of where Dean was headed. "Alone, you know that."

"But if you had to?" He jumped in before you could take another breath.

Uncertain, you chuckled, "Dean, if you're wanting for me to say-"

He took a step closer, trapping you between himself and the wall. It was a small hallway, even smaller with Dean pressing your back against the wall. And it was safe to say your breaths were uneven, your heart was struggling to keep up with your thoughts and you couldn't break your stare with Dean. "I want you to mean it."

You attempted to take an easy breath in a way that didn't show Dean how obviously crumbled you were by his words. "Dean, if I had to pick anyone to work with, of course, it would be you." Never did you blink. "And I mean that so much so that I can't believe you have to question it."

Suddenly your eyes broke from one another. Only to flicker to the lips. You took a breath and before you realised, there was no more space in between you. Caught up against the wall, breathless, you were moulding your lips against Dean's; the only hunter you could ever see yourself working with.

"I thought you guys were checking the place out?"

You jumped and then froze. In the door way stood the policewoman; one way to ruin the moment.

Of course, Dean slurted out his usual, "Yeah, just checking out these walls here." His knuckles knocked against the wall by your head before the two of you sheepishly continued into the house.

Maybe the job wasn't over and maybe you had just come close to breaking your FBI facade, but you would never regret the words you spoke or the actions you made in that very moment. 

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester imagine #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfic #supernatural imagine #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #x reader #fanfic #imagine #oneshot

[writersblockedx]

Just finished Protecter of the Party, love the story. Any chance you’re continuing it?

Possibly, I keep meaning to go back to it but there's nothing planned for the immediate future.

[writersblockedx]

time for bed !

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Bookshops and Baking

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader Summary - Forced onto a muggle trip with his family, Fred finds entertainment in your bookshop. He can’t help but thinking that maybe he likes you more than most muggles.  Warnings - Fred not undertstanding basic text speech, Mentions of alchol Words - 2.2k

A/n - Possible part two ??

Masterlist

Fred was never fond of the muggle world. It was all waiting. Waiting for them to turn on a light switch rather than casting the words of 'Lumos'. He thought they lived in apathy without the ability to create pranks and joke boxes. To him, most of them went to an office and came back and that was their day. They went through education, settled down with the most practical partner, had kids they were learning to hate and then got buried in the ground. It was ever so simple yet ever so dull.

It wasn't until his dad dragged him out on a muggle trip, that he met you, and his opinion started to change.

Mr Weasley had taken all the kids on a trip to a city in the North of the Country. The weather could only be described as damp and when it started raining, Fred split from the group. He hadn't paid much attention to the building he entered, all he cared for was that it had a ceiling that would protect him from the rain. Wasn't as if he could cast a spell to protect him; strictly no magic in front of muggles and strictly, by his dad's rules, no magic on muggle trips. He liked to think his kids got the full muggle experience.

Fred opened the shop door, a ping sounded from above his head. At first, he was met with books. Many of them. Shelves of them. A library, he presumed. He barely visited them at Hogwarts, never mind a muggle library where you had to search for the very book you wanted rather than call it into your hands. But it was dry and that's all he cared for.

"Hi!" A voice called. He turned, facing the till where you were standing, a customer service smile slapped onto your lips. "Welcome," You grasped a tray from the side of you and offered it to Fred. "Take a brownie, browse, enjoy the plenty of books." Your smile never faulted.

Fred gazed at the baked goods on the tray. Traditional, non-magic, brownies. No love potion mixed into them, or fake-sickness to get you out of class. It was just a brownie. Fred took one, "Thank you." He took his first bite and could have sworn something so good, so gooey, would have to be magic. "This- This is amazing." He spoke, still with a mouthful of chocolate swirling around his mouth.

You smiled but questioned his enthusiasm, "It's just a brownie." You assured.

You weren't sure about the ginger stranger who had walked into the bookshop, but he certainly intrigued you. "Do you have the erm recipe?" He questioned before taking another gulp of the treat.

"It was just on good foods." You answered him, not hiding the amused smile that wouldn't leave your lips.

"What- What is that?"

He really was a strange man, "A website." You told him. Fred almost cursed himself for not remembering about the muggle's favourite invention of the internet; his dad never shut up about it.

"Oh, right, yeah." He mumbled, taking his final bite.

You stepped around the counter and came to face the redhead. "Here," You said, taking his crum cover hand into your own. You took the lid of a pen and started writing the name of the website and then, with a push of confidence, you started writing your own number. "If you've got any more baking cravings, you can always message me." You stopped writing and looked up at him. His eyes were clung to you, wide-eyed as if you could do no wrong as if he could trust you to hold his heart for a lifetime. "I do more than just brownies."

He nodded slowly before realising he should probably say something, "Right," He suddenly couldn't think straight. Maybe it was the brownie. Maybe he was just confused. He had liked pretty girls before but never had one made him feel like this. So flushed, so nervous to even take a breath. "I don't have a phone." He suddenly realised.

Your head dipped to the side, "Oh." You let out.

"I'll get one." He cut in before you could reject him. "I've been meaning to for a while." Well, his dad had really wanted one of the muggle's phones; they called them apples? So he thought they did.

"Well, when you do, I'll be waiting for the message." Your words caused another grin to fall on his lips. "It's Y/n by the way."

"Fred." He returned.

And like that, the two of you had become acquainted. Possibly he was strange, perhaps a little old-fashioned, or maybe he was the first to use not having a phone as a way to reject someone. Either way, Fred ended up lingering in your mind. Dates came in and out of your life, but you found him, just a boy who liked your brownies, yet he had made you feel more than any other date.

Fred was the same. His mind was infatuated with the idea of you...a muggle. It was odd to him. He had nothing against muggles, of course, but he had never seen himself befriending one - never mind it being possibly flirtatious. But as he left the bookshop (without any actual books) he went to one of the muggle 'Apple' stores. There, he finally picked up a phone and would spend the next night trying to figure it all out and swearing on muggles for making everything so difficult.

Now, the thing was Fred had never sent a text. He had sent letters. So when he was faced with typing, he assumed the two were no different.

To Y/n, I can't stop thinking about them brownies. From, Fred.

He became even more confused when only an hour later he received a message in return:

I'll make them again for you sometime - lmk when you're free.

He stared at the muggle message for a while. When he couldn't figure out what you meant by 'lmk', he resorted to going to his dad. He and the rest of the family were awaiting Molly's dinner, lingering by the table when Fred stormed through. His eyes were on the phone until he met his dad and handed the object over.

"What does this mean?" He demanded to know simply because he was so eager to message the girl back.

Arthur flicked his glasses over his eyes and inspected the message. "Is this your muggle girlfriend?" Yelled George who was setting the table.

Fred flicked his head to his twin brother, telling him to, "Shut up," before turning back to his dad.

"Don't tell me he's back at it with that muggle phone." Ginny commented.

"Back at it?" George laughed. "He hasn't put it down. He won't stop talking to someone called Siri?"

"Is that the girl?" Asked Ron, finally looking up from the piece of bread he had been eating.

Fred looked to his siblings for one last time, "No, it's not the girl." He said with a stern tone woven through his words. He finally looked to his dad, "Do you know what it is?"

He nodded and put the phone on the table, "It's one of the muggle text abbreviations. They get lazy when they text on their electronics." He explained.

"Okay, so what does L.M.K mean?"

Arthur shrugged, "Oh, I've no idea."

Shit, Fred thought, but knew he shouldn't say it. He couldn't understand these text abbreviations but the idea of not responding was torturous. So, he did the next best thing.

Without his dad or his siblings, Fred took it upon himself to visit the muggle world by himself. He travelled through the streets, luckily this time they were dry streets, right until he came across the same bookshop.  He took a breath like this would take a lot out of him. Then, he put his firm palm on the door and pushed. That same bell rang, addressing his entrance to anyone close.

His eyes went straight to the counter which was empty, only occupied by a tray of cookies. The boy wandered further down, slipping into the maze of the bookshelf before, finally, he caught sight of you. Your hands reaching up, pushing books into their respective positions. You hadn't noticed him at first, completely wrapped up in your own world. He walked towards you, a smile plastered on his lips when he breathed and spoke, "Hi."

You finally turned, your expression moulding into a curious one, "Fred?" You almost giggled. "Didn't think I'd see you here after you ghosted me."

His brows narrowed, "I'm sorry?"

Then you did giggle, "Doesn't matter. How can I help you?"

"I was thinking about you and what you said. And you're right, I am old-fashioned. Completely." He started, not daring to tear from your gaze. "Which is why I'm here and it's why I'm offering to take you out...on a date." He pushed out his hopeful smile, watching your eyes carefully as they filled with some emotion he couldn't pinpoint.

"Okay, Mr old-fashioned." You agreed as if you hadn't been thinking about it since you last saw the boy. "My shift finishes in an hour."

Fred didn't move, "Right."

"So I'll meet you at a restaurant afterwards." You planned. "You choose, message me the address."

That was the worse thing you could have done. But, at that moment, Fred agreed. He spent at least half of that hour scouting for a restaurant. One that was quaint enough to be intimate, but one that was also expensive, somewhere you could wear a nice dress to and you could share a bottle of wine. And when he finally found one, he ordered himself the bottle of wine and sat there waiting until you showed up.

You arrived on the dot. Nervous, but trying to hide it well enough, and once your gaze hit his, a smile grazed your lips. He took you in an embrace before the two of you were seated across from one another. Conversation started flowing as soon as you had a lick of wine. You learnt of the wacky Weasley family, from his twin brother to his parents and all the other siblings in between. He owned a business - one of which you had never heard of - but it certainly did impress you. He claimed he hadn't had much time for dating and that running into yourself was just perfect timing.

So, of course, when the brownie dessert you were sharing started coming to an end, and Fred offered a second date, you agreed. And, on that date, you agreed to a third.

For that one, Fred had arranged every single detail. He would greet you in a shirt and tie, a bouquet of flowers waiting in his hands. You would thank him and accept the flowers before taking his hands and entering the theatre. At half-time, you would go in-depth about the meaning behind the play. Before, at the end of the night, as he dropped you off on your front steps, he would finish the night with a kiss.

Everything would go to plan - so Fred hoped anyway.

What happened instead, ruined everything. Fred was waiting outside the venue, doing his once-over for everything. He made sure his shirt was perfectly ironed and that the flowers were-

He suddenly looked down at his palms and realised they were empty. He had left them on the back seat of his car. He almost swore aloud before his wizard instinct stepped in. He retrieved his wand from his blazer pocket, shuffling into the shadows. He picked up some small daisies from the ground that lined the building. From there, he mumbled the words of, "Engorgio" and the small petals tripled in their size until they resembled some proper, store-bought flowers.

It was bad timing. When Fred gazed back up, he wasn't met with shadow, he was met with you, staring at him and the flowers that had just magically grown at his will. How could he explain this? "Y/n," He spoke your name in a breath that he had been holding. "I can explain." No, he couldn't.

You shook your head, already taking some steps back. "I- I can't-" You couldn't get the words out; your mind was too focused on trying to figure out what you had just witnessed.

Before Fred could say much more, you turned your back to him and slipped away. He should have been more worried about the fact a muggle had witnessed magic, that the very being of all witches and wizards had suddenly become endangered. He should have been worried about how much this mistake was going to cost him - if the Mystery of Magic would send him to Azkaban for this? But all that swirled around in the boy's head was whether he could fix the sudden wedge he had put between himself and you.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley fanfic #Harry Potter universe #harry potter fanfiction #hogwarts imagines #hogwarts fanfiction #george weasley #ron weasley #imagine #x reader #fanfic

[writersblockedx]

night swims w conrad?

Pairing - Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader Summary - Conrad interrupts your night swim, leading to all the words you hadn't said spilling out. Warnings - Jealousy? Mentions of alcohol use Words - 1.3K 

Masterlist

Night swims were always enjoyable. To dip your legs in first, for the bitter water to creep up your skin ever so slowly until you submerged your whole body. Goosebumps covered your skin, reminding you that you could feel something. Once your shoulders were in the water, it suddenly wasn't as cold. It was weightless. And it carried you as you floated on your back, staring up at the stars as if they were staring back at you.

Night swims were for the days that were too much. After going to a bonfire with all the boys (plus a surprise visit from Belly), tonight was one of those nights. Maybe it was just the people, or the amount of alcohol you consumed, or perhaps, as you deep down knew, it was about the fact you had to watch Conrad and Nicole the whole night. She was the newest hookup of Conrads. Not quite girlfriend, but she was certainly under the belief it would happen one day.

It was torture. She was nice and kind and she only wanted the best for Conrad exactly as you were. A part of you was seething with guilt in that you still hated her a little bit. She had stolen everything you wanted to be. But, by now, it had become a feeling you were all too familiar with. Every few months, a new girl. Before her, there was Arbury who was lucky to make it to girlfriend status - not many ever had done.

Wrapped up with these thoughts, you just wanted a moment away from the chaos. Like you could pretend that, for a second, it didn't bother you. That what Conrad did - who he did - didn't actually bother you. When your eyelids lifted, you almost thought you were hallucinating. The very person who had captured your thoughts was looking down at you.

At first, you didn't move. Because, at first, you weren't completely sure if he was real. Then you jumped back to reality and that pit in your stomach returned. You adjusted, going to stand rather than float. Still, you turned to find Conrad who had his legs dangled in the water, letting his gaze wander over you, every corner of your skin as if you didn't notice what he was doing.

"It's late." So you assumed anyway. You hadn't even checked the time when you came in, but the bonfire had dragged on for a while - or maybe it only felt that way because you were forced to watch Nicole flirt with Conrad the whole night. "What are you doing out?" You finally added.

Conrad answered by retrieving a cigarette from his jacket pocket; a new hobby he had taken up this Summer. "Been a long night." You were glad he felt the same.

"Susannah's already mad at you, you think that's gonna help?" You had one brow raised at him.

But it didn't seem to do anything, "I don't need a reminder." There was a snap in his tone that you had tried to ignore. "And anyway, she's fast asleep." His eyes dwindled at that, going to focus on the abyss in the distance.

You swam closer to him, forcing the boy to move his gaze back to yourself. "What's with the smoking anyway?" You'd noticed it since you first arrived. He would wander off and come back ten minutes later smelling of either smoke or some illegal substance. "Just last year, you hated it. I remember when you found Jere vaping and you gave him the silent treatment for almost two whole days."

He thought about that memory for a moment before he shrugged it off. "Things change." He excused.

Without being able to stop yourself, words started spilling out, "I thought you wouldn't." He was Conrad. He wasn't meant to change, especially not like this.

Your eyes lingered on his, watching as his pupils dilated and his expression moulded into one you couldn't read. "You're upset with me?" He finally asked as you took a few steps back.

"Like you said, things changed." You reiterated. "You changed. You're more distanced from everything, quiet. You don't have that playfulness you did last year-"

He cut in with a scoff, "Playfulness? Really?" You could feel your heart sinking. "You mean because I don't play your's and Jeremiah's and Belly's childish games?"

You knew there was no point in arguing with him. "It doesn't matter." You shook your head. And this time, you turned your back to him, swimming to the other end of the pool when you weren't forced to stare at Conrad Fisher.

Only a few minutes had passed when you heard the shuffling of movement. At first, you thought Conrad was getting up to leave, but the sounds continued until a soft splash came from the other side of the pool. That noise prompted you to turn. Conrad was already looking at you, shirtless and getting used to the temperature. Then, once he was close enough, he flicked his hand passed the water, letting it splash in your face.

"Conrad, what the hell!" You snapped, squirming at the feeling of bitter water hitting your skin.

"What?" He questioned as if he was innocent. "You told me to be more playful." 

He shrugged it off as if it were nothing, gaining closer and closer until you only had to whisper in reply. "I'm not in the mood." Your tone was flat.

But Conrad hadn't let that stop him. He splashed you once more. "Conrad!" You snapped again.

"Oh come on, you not gonna fight back?" Your head shook and he took another step towards you before there was barely any distance left between the two of you. Before you could stop him, his hands took a grip around your waist. Within a moment, you were swirling around at Conrad's will, and as much as you hated it, laughter was trickling from your lips. "That's not the Y/n I know!"

You started hitting his side, letting out a, "Conrad, put me down!" Only just heard through the giggles to two of you shared.

Soon enough, he slowed and your body entered the water again. But Conrad's touch didn't leave you. His hands lingered around your bare waist and you swore you could get drunk just off his touch. He was so close. Yet, there was a distance between the two of you still. There felt more distance now than before you had arrived at Cousins. You just sat wishing the boy would break that distance.

"I'm sorry I've not really been around as much as you had expected. Or that I haven't joined in on any of your games or even watched a movie with you." His eyes clung to your own. "But, trust me, I'm trying."

This time, your hand reached out, brushing his cheek as he fell into it. "That's all we need to know." You assured him. "I'm here for you Conrad, you know that?"

He nodded, "I know." And before you could reply, he closed that distance. His lips leaned into your own and you were caught in his trap.

It was sweet but short-lived as you pulled away, too shocked to deepen the kiss any further. Conrad's eyes were frightened and yours were curious. "Why did you do that?" You asked, without moving away from his touch.

He thought on it for a second before answering, "I think I've been meaning to for a few Summers now." Them words had only made you lean into another kiss. One of which you were sure now wouldn't be your last.

#conrad fisher #tsitp season 2 #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher oneshot #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher angst #tsitp #tsitp x reader #tsitp fanfic #jeremiah fisher #belly conklin #imagine #x reader #fanfic

[writersblockedx]

If I’m Not Mistaken

Pairing - College!Conrad x Fem!Reader Summary - When you mistake a boy for the local drug dealer, he ends up offering you some help anyway. Warnings - Drug and alcohol use Words  1.7K

Masterlist

You didn't know his name. You didn't know what course he was doing. You didn't even know if he was a student or not. But, considering he was always on campus, you came to the conclusion he was either a student or looking for customers. He sat on the brick wall right outside your lecture building, a joint between his lips. Sometimes he read. Sometimes he was on his phone. Sometimes he was doing nothing at all.

For a long time, you thought about asking him for some of his substances. But it wasn't until you were hosting a party, you finally pushed yourself to ask. That Friday, you came to the lecture 10 minutes early just so you could catch the mystery boy beforehand. As per usual, he was sat at the wall, lighting the joint in his fingertips. Before the flame could catch alight, you took a grip over his lighter.

That sparked his attention as he looked up at you. His eyes were blue and they seemed to be piercing into your soul. "What do you sell?" You questioned before he had the chance to ask what the fuck you were doing in front of him; he certainly didn't seem like the talkative type. "I've got a party and I could use quite a bit."

His brows furrowed and you almost doubted that he hadn't heard you correctly. "I'm sorry?"

You pointed to what he was about to smoke. To which, he was still acting oblivious too. "Look, if you don't want to sell to me, fine, I'll find someone else that does." Like that, your eyes rolled and you went to leave, cursing yourself for the man's rude behaviour.

"Hey, hey, wait." He stood from the wall, reaching his free hand out to grab yours. With no other choice, you faced him. "What? Did- Did you think I was a dealer?"

Now you were the one with narrowed brows, "You're not?"

He almost laughed but settled on just shaking his head at your assumption, "No." He took a breath and let his grip on your skin fall. "I'm Conrad," He put out a hand for you to shake.

You thought about it. Looked him up and down before accepting, "Y/n." He took a grip on your hand, shaking it and then letting you go. "Sorry, I thought you were a dealer." You spoke after an awkward moment of silence had passed. "You're just like, always here, always smoking so I just, I don't know, I assumed."

"No, I get it, it's alright." He offered a smile which you returned. "You said a party?"

You weren't sure where he was going with this, you weren't sure why either of you were still here, but you didn't plan on moving any time soon. For some reason, this boy already had you stuck. "Erm, yeah, just something before we all go away for Christmas break."

"On White Lane, right?"

How he knew where you lived was concerning, "Yeah, there." You confirmed.

"I've got some friends going is all. They go to every party pretty much. Most of them are on the college Football team so it's sort of their duty. Or they think it's their duty anyway." Oh, you knew them. Everyone knew that group. They played beer pong, preyed on girls and screamed the lyrics to songs.

But as you thought about it, you became curious, because the boy in front of you certainly didn't seem like that type. Now you thought on it, you had never seen Conrad at any party before. "You don't go with them?" You asked.

His head shook, "Oh, no. I like it when the dorms are quiet." Suppose that was a pro of being introverted.

"Well, you should definitely come to this one." A smile grew on your lips. "There will be drinks and hopefully, I'll find some weed from someone."

"I can give you the number of my dealer if you want." He offered.

You were already nodding, "That'd be great, thank you." You shuffled through your pockets before pulling out your phone, handing it over.

Conrad started typing then he paused and said, "I'll erm put mine in, just in case you need anything from me." He added, not daring to look up from the screen. "I know someone with a sound system and all that."

When he finally did look up, there was a flush of pink across his nose. You couldn't be sure whether that was his nerves or just the cold hitting his skin. "I've got that covered but, erm, I'll let you know if I need anything else." Your smile didn't fade.

Conrad shoved his hands into his pockets, "I'll see you around then."

"Definitely." Like that, you were walking to your lecture with a pretty boy's number saved in your phone - as well as a drug dealer's.

It hadn't taken long for your house to fill up. Fellow students swarmed your floor with kegs and bottles and a demand to not remember the night. And you had been right there with them; cup in hand, swaying to the music that blared in the background, mingling between the different people. But the whole time you had been waiting to run into a certain not-drug-dealer.

It had been a few hours, the party was in full swing and Conrad had yet to show up. By that point, you were beginning to think he wasn't going to at all. His 'friends' had been the first people here, swarming the kitchen counters with beer. With the drink swirling around in your system, you caved. You took your phone and messaged the boy before you had any time to regret it.

You Are you coming?

It wasn't long before your phone pinged in response.

Conrad Here.

A part of you was nervous, the other was reminded of the fact you had had one conversation with the guy. Sure, he was pretty and yes, you had seen him almost every single day before going in for your lecture. But you didn't know him. Up until today, you were under the belief he was a dealer.

When Conrad arrived, he paid no attention to what else was going on. He headed through the crowd, ready to find the very reason he had shown up tonight. "Conrad!" You yelled over the music. His eyes caught yours in the crowd, prompting a grin before you gestured for him to follow you into the kitchen where things were a little quieter.

"I can't believe you're cool with all these people in your house." He started.

You shrugged, gathering a bottle of beer for him. "It's not too bad when you're just as drunk." You offered the boy the drink.

To your surprise, he rejected it. "I'm driving." He excused.

"You're at a party!" You pointed out as a giggle fell from your lips. "Why are you even here if you're not gonna drink?"

Conrad shrugged, "You wanted me here." And like that, your giggles stopped and it felt as if your heart had too.

Maybe it was the drink or the spark of confidence but your hand reached out, holding onto his bare elbow where his shirt was rolled up. "Thanks for coming." His eyes traced your lips as you spoke. "And thanks for that number."

"More than happy to help. I'm guessing you were a very happy customer?"

"I don't know, you're better asking the pot-heads in the dining room."

He leaned in closer and suddenly goosebumps were growing on your skin - when did it get so cold? His hand sat firm on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "I've got a joint with me if you wanna go somewhere more private." When he leaned back, you nodded.

The party was nice, sure, but the idea of escaping it was even nicer. You laced your hand within the hand of someone who was a stranger not even 24 hours ago, weaving through the drunken college students as you headed for the stairs. The music became nothing but a lull background noise as you entered your own room, shutting the door.

Conrad headed straight to the bed, retrieving the joint that was in his pocket. Without asking, you sat next to him. "Are you sure you're okay mixing?" He had one brow raised at you as your shoulders brushed against one another.

You shrugged, "As long as I don't have too much."

From there, the shaggy-haired boy raised the joint, placing it between his lips and lighting it. You watched as the flame flickered and the smoke hit his throat. He inhaled in before pulling away and letting the smoke fill the air. By the time he turned to look at you, you were already fully staring his way. You almost doubted yourself; did you look like you were staring too much? What else were you meant to do?

All your worries evaporated when his hand offered the joint. You took it without a word, doing the same as he, letting the smoke fill your lungs like it was air. When you pulled it away from you, Conrad was already speaking, "Where did you come from?"

You didn't know what else to do so you smiled. "I could say the same thing about you."

His hand soon reached the side of your face, trapping you in his stare, "Well I'm glad I found you." Maybe it was the smoke, but your throat suddenly felt choked, unable to let any words come out. Before it could concern you, you found Conrad much closer. So close, in fact, he was able to press his lips into your own.

You tasted the smoke on his lips, making the kiss even more intoxicating. The need for air was desperate when you finally pulled away. For a moment, you could only stare. You weren't sure if it was the drink, or the drugs, or the kiss, but you had never felt this high. All you could think was that you didn't want to ever lose this feeling.

#conrad fisher #tsitp season 2 #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher oneshot #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fic #tsitp x reader #tsitp imagine #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty #jeremiah fisher #belly conklin #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #x reader #imagine

[writersblockedx]

Jealous? C.F.

Requested -  Maybe like a jealous conrad? or conrad comforts you after a fight with Jeremiah (you're bestfriends in this case) @nomorespahgetti I tried by best to do both, hope this is okay!

Pairing - Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader Summary - You’re uncertain if your feelings for Conrad are one side, so you hatch a plan to see if he’ll get jealous. Warnings - Violence, use of alcohol Words - 2.5K

A/n - I’m writing more for The Summer I Turned pretty so send in some requests here

Masterlist

You had been friends with the Fisher boys for a long time. And for a long time, you had done practically everything together. As you went into high school, parties became a more frequent activity you did together.

Another house was swarmed with teens. Flashing lights, blaring music, enough to reel everyone in. Jeremiah pulled into a spot on the road as the three of you glared at the scene. It was thrilling and it was a promise of a good night. Quite frankly, none of you could wait to join in all the fun.

Jeremiah turned around in the driver's seat, his eyes jumping between you in the back seat and Conrad in the passenger seat. "You guys know the rules alright?" Said Jere, stern in his expression.

The older brother laughed, "Of course we do." He replied. "You do realise you're barely ever the sober driver?"

"I am!" He argued as the brothers did. "There was Abi's party! I was the sober driver then."

You joined in with Conrad as you gave a giggle, "You do realise that was almost a year ago, Jere."

His expression moulded into one of disbelief, "What? No, no, it wasn't, I-" He came to realise you were in fact right. "Just, please, both be ready to leave at one." That was always the rule: one out of the three was the sober driver and the other two would always have to be ready at 1 am on the dot to leave.

Of course, it didn't always go to plan. But it was the plan you always followed. "Yes, understood."

Conrad's hand was on the door when he added, "Make sure Alec knows as well." It was a sly comment, similar to all the others he had been making for the past month.

You glared at him but he wouldn't look back. "He knows." You assured before being the first to exit the car, eager to slip away from Conrad's grumpy exterior.

Alec was another Summer hookup. One of which was made on the basis of no-strings-attached. It was meaningless, but thrilling and fun, a way to burn time when you had nothing else to do. And the moment you walked through the front door, he was by your side. And, only a moment later, you came to realise it was because he wanted to trace his hands around your waist, wanted to see if you would end up staying another night in his bed.

Instead, your hands tore his from your clothing, "Let's get a drink, hm?" You suggested.

His expression was hiding a scowl as he forced a nod. "Sure." He sighed, trailing behind you as you took his hand, dragging him through into the kitchen.

All night you had Alec's hands clawing at you and Conrad's gaze piercing into you. It was torture. You knew Conrad didn't like Alec, he didn't like any of your hookups, but it was beginning to get on your nerves. So, rather than stay put, you waited until it got to half past midnight when you downed the rest of your drink, grabbed Alec's hand and pulled him upstairs.

You shut the door, finding yourself in what you hoped was only a guest bedroom; very beige, very empty. You rushed towards the window, looking outside to spot Jere's Jeep. If Conrad thought he could make comments like that, stare as much as he pleased, you would make it as worse for him as you could do. Or maybe you just wanted to see what he would do - not that you would admit that to yourself. Deep down, you were truly just wanting to see how he would react if he would dare to be jealous or show any sign that he felt something romantic for you. Maybe it was an unfair way of doing things, but it had been years now, and never did he make a move.

"Finally," Came the voice from behind you. One of which you had almost forgotten. "Was beginning to think you weren't going to spare me some time tonight."

You turned, brows knitted, "What?"

He took a step closer, letting his eyes gaze across the lines of your body like it was his. "You've barely given me any attention tonight." He pointed out.

He went to go closer before you put out your hand. Your palm hit his chest with a thud that sounded through the whole room; his demeanour altered. "And you're making me not want to give you any more." His hands were sticky, once they touched your skin they seemed to never leave. And you were planning to make sure tonight, he never got to even brush a fingertip against you.

It was fun while it lasted, you thought.

"Come on, don't be like that." Alec critiqued.

"You're just pissed because you're not gonna get any tonight." It came out of your mouth before you could stop it, but you weren't exactly upset about it.

The boy across from you simply scoffed, "Don't pretend as if you're not in this for any other reason." You couldn't argue about that.

"You know I don't even think I've got any more reasons to continue this." You huffed. Tonight had seemed to put you completely off the boy.

"So, you're ending this?"

Your arms folded around your chest and you came to shrug, "Yeah, I guess I am."

There: the door swung open. You and Alec, meters apart, scowls on both of your faces. And in the doorway stood Conrad Fisher, him too wearing a scowl.

But rather than another sly comment about why you were late to the car, he found the scene cause for concern. "What's going on?" His eyes were burning into Alec, only daring to give you a glimpse every now and again.

You thought then it was best to screw your plan. It wasn't as if Conrad was getting jealous. In fact, he seemed more protective over you, worried by the state Alec was in. "Nothing." You huffed in an obvious lie, grabbing your bag and heading to the door. "Let's go."

Conrad was right behind you. He was turning, ready to leave whatever had happened behind him. But then, of course, Alec had to go and open his mouth. "You know I should have believed what they said about you!" He yelled, the door open for everyone outside to overhear.

Both you and Conrad came to a halt. And you both turned to face him. His skin was burning, his fists clenched and you were scared if you got any closer, you would be leaving with a black eye. "Everyone makes mistakes." You flashed a weak, sarcastic smile, more than ready to fleet this scene you had caused.

"Every week, a different boy right? I'm surprised I lasted this long!" He chuckled so sinisterly.

Conrad started walking over. The second his foot moved, your hand reached for his, so unlucky that his fingers slipped from yours like butter before you could get a grip. "What you gonna do, Fisher?" Alec tormented.

Like that, he invited what was coming for him. "This." Before he had even finished his before, the fist was thrown.

"Conrad!" You snapped but it was no use.

Alec stared back at him, fury written within his pupils. Before you could do anything, they were wrapped between limbs, fighting to leave bruises, a punch here and there. By now, half of the party was crowded around this small doorway, cheering the two boys on like it was a boxing match. It took a good few minutes before Conrad finally got Alec to stay down - not without a few lingering bruises and cuts himself though.

He was staring down at Alec like he was meat. And before you came over to him, you weren't sure he was going to snap out of it. Your hand wrapped around his forearm, "Conrad," You whispered his name like it was fresh air. He almost jumped as he stared back at you. Your finger came to his cheek, brushing at it, "Let's go."

The boy nodded, letting you lead him towards the Jeep where Jeremiah was still waiting for you. As you weaved your way through the party, neither of you dared to let go of the other. You weren't sure why Conrad was so pulled to punch Alec, and you weren't saying it wasn't deserved, but you knew them bruises weren't going to be painless. For that, you would feel a tad guilty - you were the reason he had even come up to the room, why Alec was so angry in the first place, you just wished you could have stopped him from breaking out that fight.

You wandered out to the car where Jere jumped out from the driver's seat. He was readying some lecture to you both but when he took in the state of the two of you, he was taken aback. "Jesus," He huffed as you and Conrad stumbled towards the back door. "What the hell happened to you guys?"

Conrad stopped for a moment to address Jere, "Long story." And with that, he got into the car and you followed him.

It was silent until Jere started driving, his eyes flickering to the rear-view mirror to catch glimpses of you two tangled in the back seats together. Finally, he had to ask, "This didn't have something to do with Alec, did it?"

Conrad glared at his brother, "He just doesn't know when to shut up." The boy grumbled, going back to staring mindlessly out the window.

"So you started a fight with him?" The younger brother quipped.

And before an argument could spark between the two you jumped in, "I tried to stop it alright." You didn't realise that was only going to start an argument between you and Jere instead.

"Really?" Jere shook his head and it prompted a pit to grow in your stomach. "The only reason he was up there was because you weren't at the car when you were supposed to be. And by the sounds of it, you were hooking up with your little boyfriend while we were waiting for you!" That guilt only grew with every word that fell from Jeremiah's lips.

You sat further back in your seat, "I'm sorry," You said like a scolded child. "I lost track of time."

The rest of the car journey was silent. There was thick tension between each of you and when you returned to the Fisher house, it finally started to settle.

Jere went straight to his own room. And Conrad was about to do the same before you reached out your hand, taking a grasp of his wrist. He stopped ad slowly spun to face you. A good few silent seconds passed before you said anything, "You can't go to bed like that." You pointed towards the black eye that was forming on his face. "Come on," You nodded your head toward the kitchen and he started following you.

His fingers came to interwind with your own as you wandered towards the bar stool, guiding Conrad to sit on one of them. From there, in the silence and the dim light, you gathered frozen pees and returned to the beaten boy. Your eyes locked onto his. It was as if the whole world stopped when you looked at Conrad. For that one moment, you were completely encompassed by his blue pupils, forgetting why you were here, why he had a swollen eye and why you had a pit in your stomach.

When the moment passed, it all came flooding back. You took a step forward and ever so quietly pressed the packet towards his eye. "I'm sorry you got hurt." You finally broke the silence.

Conrad shrugged, "It was worth it, knowing he's hurting more." You could have predicted he would say that.

"Jere's right though." You said, the guilt laced within your tone. "The only reason you were there was because of me."

Conrad stepped up abruptly, forcing you to retract the frozen pees, "Don't let him get to you like that, he was just pissed. If he was in that room too he would have done the same thing too." A part of you faulted at that. If Jere would have done it, then maybe Conrad's actions didn't come from a place of deep-rooted romance, more just like protecting a younger sister.

"Yeah, maybe." Your eyes fell to the floor.

It sparked something. Before you could move, Conrad's finger was under your chin, prompting you to look back at him; there you were, locked. "He was a dick anyway." He offered a smile.

"That's what you say about everyone I get with."

Conrad couldn't deny that but he could excuse it. "Because they'll all dicks and don't how to treat you right."

That urged a grin of your own, "Okay then, find me someone who isn't and maybe you'll have one less black eye." Your own hand reached out this time, tracing the yellow patches which were already forming.

"That might take a while." He shrugged.

You didn't move your hand from his skin, "Maybe not."

You watched as his expression moulded into one of confusion, "What?"

"Conrad," Your voice had a sudden shake to it, "You're the only person I know who treats me right, who knows exactly what I need, how I feel, you're like a mind reader." You were beginning to pour your heart out. "You've been by my side since I can remember. And you are always the one to pick me up after the dickhead guys leave me behind, and you're always the one to fight them for me - when it's needed of course." Conrad was following your every word as you tried to forget this could be the be-all and end-all. "What I'm trying to say is that I really like you and I don't want to go through any more hookups or stupid boys. I just want you."

You took a breath like it was the first time. Like now you had said that your breath was fresh, it was weightless. When you looked at Conrad, you felt like you were hanging onto a thread and he was holding the scissors. His hands came to cup the sides of your face and you became weak at his touch, "I'm glad you finally came to your senses." And with that, he sealed the words by leaning into your lips.

Sure, the night had been chaotic, but somehow it had ended in the dim light of the Beach House kitchen, whispering sweet nothings and confirming the feelings that you had been holding in for years.

#tsitp #tsitp season 2 #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher oneshot #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fic #conrad #conrad x reader #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty season 2 #tsitp x reader #tsitp fanfic #jeremiah fisher #belly conklin #x reader #oneshot #imagine #fanfic

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I’m wanting to write more for ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty’ so send your requests ⇨ here ⇦

#the summer i turned pretty #tsitp #tsitp x reader #tsitp season 2

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Sparks

Pairing - Jeremiah Fisher x Fem!Reader Summary - Jeremiah goes to you for everything, and when you give him a vital piece of love advice, it dawns on him that he is, in fact, in love with you. Warnings - None? Slight mention of underage drinking. Words - 2K

Masterlist

As was common, Jeremiah was at a loss for his several hookups. And, as was even more common, he went to you to debrief and to ask for advice. While he had hookups and situation-ships way more than you did (or anyone in Cousins for that matter), he struggled with how to manage them. At least he did until he started asking you for advice.

He threw himself onto your bed, forcing you to shut the book you had been deep inside. There, staring up at the ceiling, he let out a huff. "What, or should I say who, is it this time?" You raised your brow at him, watching as Jere's wide pupils stared up to the ceiling as if he were replaying some memory over and over.

"Luke." He let the name out in a sigh. "And, And!" He suddenly added as if he had almost forgotten in his daydreaming gaze, "Abi."

He finally sat up, staring at you with them puppy eyes you could never resist. "Two?" You questioned.

"Yes." He said, barely embarrassed by such fact; at this point, it was to be expected. "Reframe from any criticism please."

"I'm not gonna criticise you, Jere." You told him, a sweet smile gracing your lips. "If anything, I don't see what the problem is here."

He took a second before shrugging, "I just- I feel wrong, you know? Guilty." He explained. "Like I'm going behind their backs."

"Okay then, well you either need to tell them both the truth or pick one."

Jeremiah thought about the options for a moment and ran both scenarios through his head until making his decision. "I have to pick one." He said before looking at you, uncertain, "Right?"

"If that's what you want." You comforted him.

At that, he let himself fall once more. This time, right into your lap as he made a dramatic sigh as if this decision was a life-changing one. "What if I don't know what I want?" He questioned, gazing up at you, his sea-blue eyes catching you into his trap.

You let a sniffle of a laugh as you looked down at him, "Oh, trust me Jere, you've no idea what you want. But, that's okay too, sometimes you have to experiment with different people until you know what you want." You went on.

That seemed to spark another question for him, one of which wouldn't leave his head for the next few weeks: "How do I know? Like, how do I know that this is someone who I want a relationship with? A proper relationship, not just a hookup."

For that, you needed to think. As much as you gave Jereimah advice after advice, that was a question he had never asked. "I suppose it has to be someone you feel that spark with. But not just a sexual spark." As you were certain Jere sometimes mistook it for. "A spark that reaches to a deeper, emotional level. Where you feel safe but excited at the same time. A balance, I guess." That was what you assumed anyway. You hadn't had many successful relationships yourself.

But your words had seemed to prompt something for Jere. His eyes washed away, his mind sucking him into his thoughts. Until, after a long moment, he sat back up and with furrowed brows, asked, "How do you know all this? It's not as if you're happily married."

"No need to remind me." You giggled, slapping the side of his forearm.

Of which he chuckled at and defended himself, "I'm serious! You talk all this wise shit and can't even get yourself a date."

You could have scoffed, "I can get myself a date, thank you."

"Really? When was the last time you went on one?"

Then you did scoff, grasping the pillow from behind you and chucking it at Jeremiah's head, only erupting more laughter from the both of you. "You are so rude!"

Only once your mini pillow fight died down and Jeremiah returned home, did that question take over his whole mind. He strolled into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of milk as he thought over it: how did he know? The only time he felt a spark that wasn't sexual- well, he couldn't quite remember. Everything you had described, the safety but excitement, the emotional connection (and the sexual), well the only person he could ever even suggest he had felt that for was you.

"What's up with you?" His brother's voice broke him from the glare he had been giving the countertop.

His eyes widened, "Huh?"

Conrad and Belly, who had been trailing behind him, both giggled. "You're just a bit...out of it, you know?"

"Thinking."

"That's a first." Conrad laughed.

Jeremiah snapped, "Hey!"

"Go on then," Belly pushed, "What is it you're thinking about?"

The boy sighed, replaying your words once more. "A spark."

"Why's a hookup causing you an existential crisis?" Questioned Conrad, watching his brother in such a focused state that it was becoming a concern.

"It's not a hookup." Jere admitted. "It's Y/n."

Suddenly, that name peaked Belly's interest. She leaned closing, placing her elbows on the kitchen island as she watched the boy carefully, "What about her?" She prompted.

"I went to her for advice, as I always do, and now I can't get it out of my head. She was explaining how for love, you need a spark, an emotional connection, safety..." He stopped there, ever so stunned by his recent realisation.

"And?" Belly pushed on, one brow raised.

Jeremiah sucked in a breath, not making eye contact with either of them as he said, "She basically just described everything I feel for her."

He looked at his brother and his best friend. It was silent. At least for a moment as he took in their unreadable expressions; were they stunned? Embarrassed? Futile? Then, breaking the silence came Conrad's laugh. "You have a crush on Y/n, great." He shook his head. "It took you long enough."

Jere's brows instantly furrowed as he straightened his back, "What? How did you-" He couldn't get his words out.

Conrad looked to Belly, "Come on, back me up. It was obvious."

Jeremiah looked to his friend and Belly could only shrug. "It sort of was." She agreed. "But, now you know, you can ask her out!" Excitement was painted on her words. Belly had been waiting for this for almost longer than yourself.

"I can't do that. She's- She's Y/n. She's my best friend. It'd be weird." The idea was so foreign that it was unbelievable.

"She's your best friend who you're in love with!" Belly argued. "Think about it, please."

With that, she and Conrad left Jeremiah to his thoughts. Once more, you never left his mind. He had been trapped.

For weeks, it was all he could think about. He'd gaze across the other side of the pool at you. Shades covering your eyes as you bathed in the sunlight. There he was daydreaming of everything you would do as a couple. Granted, it was pretty much the same as how things were now, only littered with kisses and hugs and greater smiles than either of you had ever made before.

It came to the point where he was just bursting to tell you. But he waited. He had to wait until the right moment. He couldn't do it by the pool, with Steven and Belly watching. He would wait for the perfect moment. And when the group of you arrived at a local party, he knew maybe tonight would be the night.

A few drinks down, he caught you by yourself. You had wandered to the backyard, sitting on the stairs that led to the porch. He lingered by the patio door, watching you as you sat alone for a moment. Your curious expression was emphasised by the fairy lights which tangled over the wooden fencing, flashing pinks and purples across your cheeks.

You didn't even know Jeremiah was there until he came and sat next to you, your shoulders nudged up against the others. "Enjoying the party?" A smooth smile hung from his lips as he grasped the red solo cup in his hand.

You nodded and glanced over at him, "Yeah, yeah, just needed a break." You excused.

Jere smiled, looking back through the patio doors and the booming party he could still overhear. "That's understandable." He gazed back at you and fell, once more, into your eyes.

"What about you?" You nudged his shoulder playfully. "You're never one to miss a moment from a party. Shouldn't you be looking for Luke? Or, or Abi!" You spat out their names as they flooded back into your memory. You had lost count of all the people Jere had hooked up with.

His smile faulted at the mention of their names, "Erm, no, no. I actually ended things with both of them." He admitted.

"Oh, why?" You raised a brow. "Ended up telling them the truth?"

"No, no." He answered before he looked to the ground, licked his lips and questioned if this was the moment. Something in his mind said fuck it, and he did. "But it was actually because of something you said." Jeremiah couldn't tear his eyes away from you as that curiosity built on your expression once again. "When you were explaining it to me, everything that love made you feel, all the sparks and the connections. That you should feel safe with them but it should be exciting all the same. Well," He took a breath and ran with it. "You're the only person that makes me feel that way."

The air soon became thick with Jeremiah's words as they floated around your mind. This was Jere, your friend, your best friend. The one who had talked non-stop about her and him all while you were nothing but a bystander. Yet, here you were, sitting away from the party the boy was usually the centre of as he professed his love. And you could never deny your feelings in that it wasn't reciprocated.

This time, it was your turn to look to the ground, lick your lips and say: Fuck it. "Jere, I can't deny that you aren't utterly brilliant. I mean, you're incredibly beautiful, and you know it. You're charming and comedic, you bring a room to life. And I love being at your side for all of that, I want to be there in the future too." You took a breath, wondering if your next words were about to ruin that smile that was glued to his lips. "But, it's because I want that, that I want to be your friend. Just your friend." Like that, the smile dissipated. "I can't be some other hookup that you start complaining about because they get too attached, or too clingy. I won't let that be me."

He jumped to take your hands in his. What used to be a simple gesture between the two of you, had suddenly become complicated and you questioned if you should let go. "That's not what you are to me. I would have already tried that on you if that was what I wanted, trust me." He admitted. "This isn't me asking you to kiss me, or to have sex with me or whatever I do nowadays. I'm sat here asking you to be my girlfriend."

The word had been said. It was in the air and it was up to you what you did with it.

And so, you tightened your grip on his fingers and said, "I want you Jere and I trust that you want me to." From there, you leaned in before he could respond, securing a yes with a kiss.

#jeremiah fisher #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher x you #jeremiah fisher x y/n #jeremiah fisher imagine #jeremiah fisher fanfic #jeremiah fisher oneshot #jeremiah fisher fic #jeremiah x reader #tsitp #tsitp 2 #tsitp x reader #the summer i turned pretty season 2 #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #belly conklin #x reader #imagine #oneshot #fanfic

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Dependency Problem

Pairing - Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader Summary - When you return to Cousins this year, you find that Conrad has picked up similar bad habits you once had. Warnings - Use of drugs and alcohol, good bit of angst, NO SPOILERS FOR S2 Words - 2.6k

A/n - Possible part two if people want? Let me know!

Masterlist

Every Summer was spent in Cousins. And every Summer, it was spent with the Fisher and Conklin clan. It was always refreshing, that slow drive back up to the house. The air was sprinkled with salt and the skies seemed always clear, a blue-painted ceiling that you could bathe in all day if you so pleased. But, the most important part of the drive was the reunion.

To see them little differences that had changed in everyone in between the last ten months. For Susannah, she had chopped a good bit of her hair off as her golden locks hung close to her shoulders. Laurel had started wearing less make-up, settling into a more comfortability with herself. Your mom had been the opposite, she was experimenting with makeup and style like she was a teen again; you blamed it on a midlife crisis. Belly had hit puberty, no longer plagued by a pair of glasses. Steven even more relaxed that he had been the year prior, and slightly taller. Jere's hair had grown, giving his curls the space to spiral over his forehead. And then there was Conrad - you noticed it instantly.

It was a familiar essence that was loitering over him. The unironed hoodie he had crowded his more lean figure into. His eyes were dragged down by the black bags, irritated with patches of red within the whites of his eyes. His posture was low, tired, aching. And his expression, while uplifted with a smile of welcome, was a facade. You caught it in a moment.

"Finally!" Jeremiah called as he rushed over to his friends, capturing Steven in a bro-hug first, then Belly and leaving you for last. "Good to have you back." He told you as his head sat on your shoulder before pulling away.

From there, you met Conrad's gaze.

You ignored the way your heart felt heavy. You weren't sure what had happened between now and when you had last said goodbye, but you felt far than enough sympathy. "Hi," You breathed, trying to not let out your surprise at the changes the boy had made.

He greeted you in reply with a, "It's good to see you." And took you into an embrace. It was loose and short-lived, leaving you desperate for more once he finally pulled away.

As the first day back went on, it soon all started coming out. Conrad had left football, barely sailed anymore and, as of this moment, wasn't doing anything at all. Compared to Steven and Jere who already had part-time jobs lined up. Something was wrong and you were beginning to wonder about would you could do. Such was confirmed after dinner came to an end. The boys rushed to play video games and Belly went upstairs to catch up with her friend, Taylor.

Which left you and the mums, clearing up the plates from the dining room table and taking them into the kitchen to be washed. For a moment, you stood alone at the kitchen sink while the others grabbed what was left at the table. And there, your eyes wandered to the window which looked upon the pool. There sat Conrad, legs dangling in the flickering water that reflected the moonlight. His eyes were down, his back facing you but even so you caught the cig he placed between his lips, lighting it and letting his lungs inhale the smoke.

It was there you felt that sympathy, that desperation with the lingering feeling of betrayal. The same exact thing Conrad had felt all of last Summer; it was a role reversal.

"He could really use you right now, you know?" That sweet voice almost made you jump.

A part of you felt flushed as you turned to face Susannah who was standing in the doorway; you'd just been caught staring at her son. "Hmm?" You resulted in responding.

The blonde let a smile grace her lips for a moment, "You two bring out the best in each other." She stated like the wise woman she was. "I think he could really use that right now."

You nodded in understanding, "I'll talk to him." That was a promise.

Once the table was cleaned up, the moms travelled towards the living room, wine glasses and blankets in hand. It hadn't taken them very long to get comfy as they switched the tv on. Though, it was made for only background noise, as their chatter rose above it. It left you with that nagging curiosity, the question that you hadn't stopped asking yourself since you had arrived: what had changed?

Before you could stop yourself, your feet were dragging you to the outside, where Conrad had thought nobody was watching. He didn't care enough to jolt when he heard the back door rattle open. Rather, he simply turned his head and huffed before looking back at the pool and the joint in his hand.

You didn't say anything. Not for at least two minutes as you occupied the space next to him, dipping your bare legs into the water below, almost close enough they could brush along Conrad's. "Theres about a hundred things I could repeat that you told me last year." You didn't look at him when you spoke, you didn't dare glance at the expression you were sure painted his face.

"But you're not going to?" He questioned, brows raised, plucking at his never-ending wonder when it came to the girl he had grown up beside.

You shrugged, swallowed the lump that was growing in your throat and finally looked over at the boy you had known since childhood. "What's the point?" You said, almost with a laugh you ended up suppressing. "You know it's not good, you know everything wrong with it. You're making the decision to do it anyway."

His expression was blank. It didn't seem as if there were many thoughts being processed. "Then what are you doing sat here?" There was a snap in his tone, a way to protect his bad habits from any helping hands.

The answer for you was simple: "Because I care for you, Conrad." As easy as that.

But such statement had prompted an incentive you hadn't meant it to. Rather than something thoughtful in reply, Conrad had started leaning in. You were too close and he was too fast for you to stop it. Within a moment, the sentiment you had just said had been cut off by the boy's lips as he met your own in a deep, yet rushed, kiss.

One hand reached his shoulder, tearing his lips from you. You breathed like you had been gasping for it and looked him in the eye. All that stared back at you was a regret that wasn't fading. "You're high." You reminded him.

"I didn't mean to-" Your other hand took the joint that was still caught between his fingertips. An action which made him shut up as he followed your hands quickly. "What are you-" Once in your grip, you chucked the substance into the pool, making it impossible to smoke again. "What the hell Y/n!"

When you stood, so did he. "Please, just go to bed." You advised him. Though, you highly doubted he would listen. You never did.

"You're not my mother!" His voice rose.

And you didn't step down, "No, but I'm sure she'd tell you the same thing." You took a breath to fight off the fury that was bubbling within the pit of your stomach. "If you can't go the rest of tonight without smoking the rest of that joint, then maybe accept you've got a dependency problem."

He scoffed as he took a step closer. "You can say all you want, I'll just call you what you are: Hypocrite." His tone was laced in more than just a snappy manner, now it was toxic, it wasn't a tone you ever saw Conrad use and it pained your heart to have it aimed at yourself.

You sucked up the tears that were brimming at your eyelids and made your last statement of the night, "What have you turned into?" You left him with that, turning your back before he could spit any more insults your way, making a B-line for your room again.

There, you let the tears fall. You wondered yourself, who had replaced the gentleman, sweet boy you once knew? You wondered if he was okay, if he would go back to normal? Truth being, you couldn't be sure. The year before, Conrad asked himself the same things. You had been just as angry, just as snappy, with a bad temper that could blow at any given moment. It was like living with weights on your back that tired you into a shell of a person until you felt utterly transparent in this world.

You didn't much talk to Conrad after that encounter. To be fair, Conrad hadn't really been talking to anyone other than the odd grunt if you were lucky. It wasn't until Belly's birthday when things got shaky again. This year, the birthday girl had taken the decision for everyone to go to Nicole's party. Nicole who also happened to be Conrad's not-girlfriend.

As much as you lied to yourself, being in her home felt wrong. Being on her territory knowing what Conrad had done two nights prior. The lingering ghost of his lips had never felt more prominent than right in that moment as you stepped foot into her house. You felt guilty being there. And not just because of the kiss, but because you had been yearning for Conrad to kiss you for a long time now. You just hated the fact such a big moment was ruined by the stench of weed on his mouth that soon caught onto your own.

Steven budged your shoulder, "You alright?" He asked, a sweet smile hanging from his lips, breaking you from the oblivious stare you had been making.

You nodded forcefully, "Yeah, yeah I'm good."

Steven wasn't convinced but a feminine voice broke him from his concern, "Steven!" His head spun around and his lips twisted even further upright like a Cheshire cat.

"Shayla." And like that, the boy was gone.

With a sigh, you followed in Taylor's footsteps to get a drink. She filled herself a cup of some red beverage and then grabbed one for you too. She huffed and you watched as her eyebrows raised, "Well look how quickly we've been forgotten." You would have been annoyed if she hadn't been right. Belly had left her for Nicole as had Conrad left you for her too.

You raised your red solo cup, "Cheers to that." Your tone was flat but Taylor clinked your cup anyway.

You weren't sure what the night had planned, but you could tell something was brewing.

Three or four hours later, a good few drinks down (you had lost count) and you were on the hunt for another one. The night was still lively, music blaring through the house, struggling against the volume of eccentric, drunk teenagers. When you reached the kitchen, you became hungry for something that wasn't tequila and juice. Thinking the kitchen was empty, you waltzed in. Only then to find yourself face-to-face with the one person you were avoiding.

You came to an abrupt stop as your gaze clung to one another. He was leant against one of the counters, his own glass in his hand, so casual in his checkered shirt and wavy hair. A thousand pictures ran through your head. You almost became nervous that Conrad could see you replaying that kiss in your mind. It was all you had been able to think about all night with the booze and having him dancing around you all night.

It took resilience for you to tear your eyes from him as you continued around the kitchen, searching the cupboards for something that suited your tastes better. It took a minute of you shuffling through cereal boxes and plates before Conrad spoke up. "Top right." He nodded to the cupboard he was talking about and you dared to catch a glimpse of him.

You nodded and pushed yourself from the floor to your tip toes as you opened the cupboard. A selection faced you of liquors and beers. You took the bottle of your choice and poured it into your red solo cup. Conrad didn't let his eyes leave you. "You're not gonna say anything this time?" He pushed.

You thought about whether it was best to reply or whether he was just picking another argument. "Why? So you can yell at me?" You raised your brow at him, and let your hip fall to lean on the counter as you faced Conrad, a good three meters between the two of you. But you cut it short, taking a step as your eyes narrowed with your next words, "Or so you can kiss me again?"

As if he were scared of the very word, he stepped from the counter, "Don't-" His finger was lingering towards you as he bit down on his tongue.

"What? Scared your girlfriend's gonna overhear it?"

"She's not- my girlfriend." He almost couldn't say it. "I didn't mean to do that." Once again, you found you lied to yourself thinking you weren't hurt by that fact.

You swallowed that pain and looked him right in the eye, "I'm not gonna argue with you if that's what you want. But, if you ever just want to talk, you know where I am."

You stared at him, waiting, willing, for him to say something. To do as you had offered and talk to you like a human being, to open up about whatever was driving him to make all these reckless decisions. The moment fell and you realised he wasn't going to say anything. You accepted it and went to leave, "Okay, I'll see you around Conrad." Said so disinterested.

You were almost out the door when his voice stopped you again, "Wait." It was hesitant but, somehow it was sure it was the right decision to make. When you met his eyes, they were like a child's. Somehow filled once more with innocence, but mostly, desperation. "I don't wanna talk, I just-" His gaze flickered to the floor for a second. "I just want you to be there...please." This time, he was the one on the edge of tears.

Once that left his mouth, you were in front of him, taking him into your embrace. He had never hung on so tightly to you like he didn't dare let go like you were keeping him afloat. Partway through the hug, you heard him sniffle, causing you to rub his back. "It's okay," You soothed. "It's okay."

"Conrad?" The voice cut through your's and Conrad's bubble like a blade.

You spilt from one another, turning to the doorway to find Nicole standing there. There was a familiar look on her face; the same one you had been wearing all night. You could only imagine what she must have been thinking.

Nicole left, taking half the girls with her. And, not long after, so did you and Conrad. Maybe you were drunk and he was drunk, or high, or both, but it didn't matter. He had let that shell open only slightly and because he had asked for you to be there, you would be. That night, you found yourself in his bed, soothing him as he fell asleep in the crook of your neck. It pained you to see him with the same habits you had once plagued yourself with. And, as tonight had shown, it had only gained him consequences. Ones of which you would worry about another day. For now, you would be there for him.

#conrad fisher x reader #tsitp #tsitp season 1 #tsitp season 2 #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher oneshot #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fic #conrad x reader #conrad imagine #tsitp x reader #tsitp fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #jeremiah fisher #belly conklin #x reader #imagine #fanfic #oneshot

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The End of What Could Have Been

Pairing - Jaskier x Fem!Reader Summary - Jaskier finally gives in at trying to flirt with his favourite barmaid - something that only makes her fall harder for him. Warnings - alcohol, mention of a brothel? Words - 2.1K

A/n - Hi, I’m back! I know I’ve been gone for a little while; writers block has been killing me. But I’m back at it again, hopefully back at posting regularly again.

Masterlist

It had become the cycle of the night. As the stragglers of the Inn began to make their way back to their own beds - or hay stacks for some of them - he would appear. Far too wide-eyed for this time in the night, lute strapped over his shoulder and a glistening smile most female bar keeps had never been able to resist. Well, most expect for yourself.

Jaskier was sweet, that was true, but he was equally greedy. And the whole town knew of it. The stories of his lewd behaviour with his several different partners were laced throughout his lyrics, right alongside the fantastical story of the Witcher and the many creatures the two fought off together. Though, with that very bard in front of you now, you struggled to believe he had the same strength of a Witcher.

"Same as always, Y/n." His elbows leaned against the wooden bar as he slid a couple of coins across for you. Always a couple extra for your own pocket.

You simply nodded your head in an act to show your acknowledgement of him before turning to gather a pint of beer for the bard. "Not in the mood for conversation tonight?" He questioned while you had your back turned.

You only said anything when the cup that was brimming with frothy ale was in your hand. "Not with you. Not tonight." Ever so bluntly, that snap in your tone slipped from your tongue as you placed the drink down in front of him with a thud.

He flashed his puppy eyes; he had gotten good at doing that. "And whys that?"

Your expression never faulted. You didn't dare. You had told yourself for almost a month while Jaskier had been playing at this pub that you wouldn't be one of the many to fall prey to his sweet smile and his even sweeter words. "Because the only conversation you want to have is one where it ends with you getting into my pants." You said it so sternly. So casual. Without a lick of embarrassment as if it were a passing comment, lacking any source of meaning.

But Jaskier's response had proved different. He stiffened and struggled to swallow the ale that lingered on his tongue. "Can't blame a man for trying." His response came a second too late - attempting to get over the initial shock that had stunned him too much to speak straight away.

"I can when, despite getting your answer, you're still trying." You didn't break. With every word, you lean slightly closer, till there were only inches between you.

"Well," He sighed lightly and leaned back, "I still haven't heard you tell me to stop."

You couldn't help but laugh, "I know you're a bard, but you're not stupid, surely."

"You didn't have to go there."  He quipped. "I personally don't think you want...this to stop." His words were as cautious as one in a sword fight. One wrong move and he was frightened you were about to stab him in the back.

For the first time, you became hesitant. You were uncertain. Of course, you could admit Jaskier did have that sweet smile and the charm to accompany such. He also was easy on the eyes, had a slick manner and was, as much as you hated to admit it, the type of bachelor you could see yourself spending the night with - or several. But he was infamous for such behaviour. He travelled from town to town, bed to bed, and you were not about to the 90th woman on his list. That of such, was what you refused.

So you shifted, and slipped back into your stern facade as if nothing had ever happened, like there had never been a blink of uncertainty. "This," You pointed between the two of you, "Never even started." Words so sharp they cut through Jaskier's heart like a knife to butter. While the man was fine to break others' hearts, his was too just as fragile and sensitive. And to hear such from a woman he had grown to admire over the weeks shook his core. With the words written out in front of him, he knew he could no longer ignore them.

And so you straightened your back and stared at the boy you were forced to resist. "You finish your ale, I'll close up." You announced, without any input from him. Normally, he would last at least another three drinks. But tonight, neither of you wanted the company of the other. The air between you had become tense and rigid. Air of which you were not in the mood to breathe.

So you took it upon yourself to make that decision. You started stacking the chairs around the pub, cleaning the sticky tables and making sure everything was as it should be. The only thing left was Jaskier. He took his final sip. He placed the cup back on the bar and let out a deep breath; he knew this was the end. This was the point in which you had drawn the line, you had told him no once and for all. And you had given him no choice but to listen.

There as he stood, he turned to you. At first, he looked you up and down, taking in the last of what remained—this night marked the end of what could have been. He locked eyes with you. Neither of you moved. Neither of you said a word. After that moment of acceptance passed, he provided a nod. With that, he left the Inn without a trace. That night, in your lonely bed, you struggled to sleep, plagued by the ever-yawning question of if you just made a mistake.

By the next morning, you came to face the consequences of your own actions. You strolled in for your shift as you always did to find the Inn relatively empty. In fact, more empty than it ever had been in the past month. The only ones to occupy the Inn were the same stragglers which never seemed to leave. It didn't take you long to figure out why; the lack of strumming music in the Inn was likely the culprit. And, after that conclusion, you came to assume that it was partly the fault of yourself and a certain encounter from the night before.

"No bard today?" You queried your boss, the Innkeeper, as he stood cleaning the wooden bar.

"No bard anymore." He answered. A part of your brain was tugged with curiosity, the other knew that you shouldn't want to know. You cut the ties. You were at fault. You should leave things as they were. "Get used to how things used to be. Just the regulars again." That was one, if the only, good thing about Jaskier: the customers he brought. You could never deny his lyrical beauty and the lull of his lute. So brilliant, in fact, it almost brought you a pay rise.

Your head dropped in thought. No matter how much you wanted to accept this, a part of you wondered if this decision came from a reaction of the night prior. "Where is he staying?" You spat the words out before you could stop yourself. "The bard?" You added, suddenly aware of how strange that question may sound to your boss.

To be expected, the man raised a brow, "I'm not sure," He shrugged his shoulders lightly. "That cheap Inn up the road probably. Or a bench." With that, the grumpy old Inn keeper turned his back to you, going back to sort out the several types of ales.

For a moment, you stared. But the thought nagged you too much; Why not? He was leaving, what else was there to lose? He was sweet, admirable and you couldn't help yourself. You had only wished you had realised such fact the night before. Without thinking twice, you left. You took off without another word and headed to that cheap Inn your boss had pointed to.

By the time you arrived, you came to realise it was perfect timing. Jaskier was getting ready to depart. He had a couple of bags hung over his shoulder as he slung them over a horse. His expression was, until you came into his sights, set into a stern hold. And then, a glint of wonder reached his face, and the very corners of his lips twisted upright just slightly. He wouldn't admit it yet, but he was happy to see you had come back to him.

"And the barmaid returns." He gleamed, trying to not let that smile on his face grow any more than it already had done.

You tilted his head at him, "You didn't tell me you were leaving last night." You stated, choosing it best to ignore his greeting.

"You think that would have changed how things went?" There. You caught it right as it happened; that flirtatious speck in his pupils that never seemed to leave him - sometimes, no matter who he was talking to. When he received only a stern expression in return, he sighed and changed his tone as if he had never made that comment. "I didn't know I would be leaving until after I left." He answered, honestly.

A moment of silence passed as you settled in the realisation. You only needed confirmation: "Was it what I said?"

Another grin graced his face. But not flirtatious or cheeky, rather bittersweet. "I know you're just a bard maid,  but you're not stupid." He reiterated your own words from last night.

For that, you swallowed the lump which had suddenly grown in your throat. Then, with a breath, you replied, "You don't have to leave, the money's good here, no?" You knew your boss must have been paying him a decent paycheck.

He shifted on his feet, "I don't like staying in the same place for too long." The boy admitted.

"Then why did last night change your mind?"

He took a moment and fought himself so as not to repeat what he had said prior. "Most of the time, I can find anyone to entertain myself with, no matter where I am. But," He paused, thought on his words as if they were of utter importance, "But just the way when I walked into your Inn-"

You cut him off, "You mean when I told you to piss off because we didn't like silly lute music being played?" Saying that now was laughable.

And Jaskier had let out a chuckle, "Yes, then. I thought you were a shell I wanted to break and I found myself not bothered with anyone else. Not even with the mistresses at the Brothal. I wanted to get to know you and, I don't know, I looked forward to every night when I'd finish my set and it would be just the two of us in the bar." He explained, him too going off the idea of what else was there to lose now? "You didn't want me and it made it all the more enticing. To fight with the idea of hatred boarding on love was something intoxicating and it only made me want you more."

And, honestly, you were at a loss for words. It wasn't often many people spoke to you in such a poetic way, with such romance trickled into their words as it rolled right off the tongue like smooth butter. Most of the time, you were only met with drunk stragglers, boarding their words on sexual harassment. So this was only a breast of fresh air and you were indulging in it like it was some sort of drug.

When you looked back to Jaskier, you were at a loss for words. You weren't quite the lyricist he was. "I think-" You took a breath as if it were giving you the courage needed in that very moment. "I think I did want you. Oh, I know I did. But a bard who, as you said is always on the move, wasn't something I could get involved in." Like that, a weight slipped from your shoulders like melting ice.

Jaskier took a step forward, cautious in his action. When you showed no sign of disregard, he settled. "You've no idea what I would change just so you would get involved with me." There, his flirtatious smile return. And, this time, you couldn't resist it.

He started leaning in and rather than stopping it, so did you until your lips met in a soft embrace. It was long overdue and you could see how addicted you could get to that feeling if you weren't too careful. But a part of you had started to put trust into Jaskier - you just preyed the bard would never break it. As now, this was the start of something. Something neither of you wanted to ever end.

#the witcher #the witcher season 3 #jaskier #jaskier x reader #jaskier x y/n #jaskier x you #jaskier imagine #jaskier fanfic #jaskier fic #jaskier fanfiction #the witcher imagine #the witcher fanfic #the witcher x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #yennefer #the witcher season three #witcher #x reader #fanfic #imagine #oneshot

[writersblockedx]

anyone else's tabs filled with multiple half-read fics like some sort of tragic fanfic cemetery because a new hyperfixation grabbed hold of you with an iron grip and refused to let go or is it just me??

[writersblockedx]

Crashing

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - It just so happens that girl's night is taking place at Y/n and Spencer's favourite restaurant. Warnings - None, I don't think! Words - 1.2K

Masterlist

Spencer wassn't one to be cocky. He wasn't one to show off to those around him. He also adored the idea of privacy. Something which was difficult with his nosy co-workers who craved every speckle of his current life activities. So, somehow, somewhere along the lines, his new girlfriend had slipped through their attention.

Derek had made a quick jab at some of the marks which painted his neck, but he never asked many questions other than mocking the young boy. So you had been kept a secret. Something of which Spencer was silently grateful for. As much as he would adore for you to meet Garcia and the rest of the team, to have something so tranquil separated from the violence and chaos which encompassed his work was nice. And he strived to keep it that way for as long as possible.

A weekend following a tough case had been in need of time together. Something of which had involved a fancy restaurant, an even fancier dress, two chairs facing each other, plates of expensive food and captivating conversation. "And then, of course, the printer had to break." You had huffed, in the middle of a very mundane story that the FBI agent across from you probably couldn't relate to.

Specner was about to let out a chuckle, his drink hovering over his lips when such a tranquil atmosphere had become bombarded. "Spencer?" A squeaky voice called, excitement written in their tone.

The boy tensed. He could barely glance to you before he turned in his chair, spotting Garcia as she rushed over from the bar side of the restaurant. Of course, he recalled, girl's date. They had been getting ready for it all week...only they failed to mention they were going to be drinking at Y/n and Spencer's favourite restaurant. And now any idea of privacy and keeping such a solace situation away from his other life seemed impossible.

"Garcia," He pushed out a smile that came off just as awkward as he felt. "Hi."

Her eyes were straight over to the girl sitting across from him. You were sat like a bunny in the lions den, a slight grin which was nothing compared to the smile that was shining across Garcia. "And who is this lovely girl?" The woman asked.

You leaned over, offering your hand for her to shake. "Y/n," You introduced. Garcia took it in a rush, an exaggerated shake following. "You must be Garcia," You glanced to Spencer and raised a brow, "Right?" You wanted to be certain. From the description Spencer had given you of all his team, the pretty, bright lady in front of you did best to fit it.

Spencer had given you a nod. And just as Garcia was about to open her mouth again, start to nag at you to find out who you in fact were to Spencer, the other two girls trailed along. In a similar fashion, they stopped, took a glance at the couple in the midst of a date and their eyes widened. "Oh," Slipped from Emily's lips first. At least you assumed it was Emily with her straight black hair.

You let out a breath like it were fresh air. "Hi," You sighed as if the tension around the group wasn't building.

Finally, Spencer stepped in. "Erm, this is Y/n," He looked between you and the girls who were all just as shocked as each other. "My girlfriend."

That had really left them stunned. They each could barely mumble words. At the time, a jumble of hi, nice to meet you, was said, ignoring the very thick tension which was suffocating the air around them. And so, just as quickly as they had crowded the table, they left. Their voices muttering and whispering, each asking if the other was aware. The three girls came to the quick conclusion that Spencer Reid had in fact been keeping this girlfriend of his a secret from them.

The Monday after followed the consequences of Spencer's actions. No one had said anything so far. For that he was partly grateful, but he assumed this was the calm before the storm. He assumed right. By the time he made it into the conference room, he knew he was in for it. He made sure he was the last in. And for the very first time, the whole team was sat around the table in silence.

Spencer didn't say anything at first. Rather, he wandered into his own seat, glancing at the file in front of him. Still, no one said anything.

The boy peered up, finding all eyes on him. A huff escaped his lips, "What?" He questioned, thinking maybe he could play this dumb.

Another moment of silence followed. One of which could only be broken by Penelope Garcia. "You have a girlfriend?" She was drooling in offensive, a sort of sense of betrayal that had evoked some sympathy from Spencer.

He looked over at the rest of the team who were just as eagerly waiting for an answer as Garcia was. "You weren't really meant to find out." He muttered, avoiding eye contact at any moment.

JJ leaned forward, her brows twisting, "You weren't going to tell us?" She scoffed.

Spencer seemed to only be able to shrug, "You never asked." And like that, he seemed to sink back into his seat.

Another awkward moment passed before Emily finally spoke up, "Well I say it's about time."

Spencer's head turned to her, "What?" He asked with furrowed brows.

"It's about time you finally get a girlfriend." She reiterated.

Morgan, who Spencer had been most anxious over, finally added into the conversation. "I thought it was a joke when Garcia told me."

"Hey!" The young boy snapped in response.

"What was her name again?" He questioned, ignoring the irritation laced in Spencer's tone.

"And what exactly does she do for a living?" Emily added.

Something which seemed to start a trend in the piling questions, "Do she live with you?" Garcia had said, sitting upright in a sudden excitement for him.

"How long have you even been together?" JJ asked.

And with the many questions, Spencer seemed to not even be able to answer one of them. Luckily for him, just as they had been asked, Rossi came to save him the stress. "How about we just be happy for the kid?" He suggested, leant back in his chair with one brow raised at the rest of the team.

That within itself had done well to shut them up. And, for the first time since Spencer had entered the room, Hotch finally spoke up. "Now, Garcia?" The woman tensed, expecting some comment about personal and work lives. "The case?" She relaxed - as had Spencer. The privacy of his own life would return to the backburner as the woman stood, ready to lead the meeting.

By the time she had started talking, everyone had long forgotten about the grilling they were giving him. And when Specner caught glance of Hotch, he gave the younger man a wink, silently telling him that it was okay. Maybe it hadn't been ideal, but suppose this was one way to introduce his co-workers to the girl in his life.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #imagine

[writersblockedx]

The Things we do

Pairing - Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader Summary - When Kaz finds out a rivial gang has taken you hostage, he'll stop at nothing to find you again. Warnings - Angst, violence, torture, wounds, blood, hurt/comfort vibe Words - 2.8K

Masterlist

Kaz didn't know where you were. And, even worse, neither did you.

What you did know however: your head was pounding, the room was dark and you were tied to a chair. Your head dragged up, blood trickling from your cut lip as you faced your captor. She was a mean face. Her eyes flooded with fury that you doubted ever left and she bred the sense of vex with every step she took. If anyone was to be a psycho kidnapper, it would have been her.

"Y/n Y/l/n." A voice called your name like it was illegal, like it was something to be dragged through the dirt.

Your captor took a step back, revealing the man who was sitting in the chair behind her. In no way was he rough around the edges like the girl was. In fact, he wore a suit to fit, his lips moulded into something he seemed to use as a weapon. And despite her cut lip and likely bruised features, her head tilted and she pushed her luck. "Nice to know you know, because I've got no idea who you are." Maybe had you not just been kidnapped, you might have been more composed.

The man stood and she felt herself lean as far back in her chair as she was able. "It doesn't matter who I am." He said; his voice so monotone for the context of the situation. "I just need to know about you."

You weren't so sure where this was headed. Your mind was still trying to catch up with the punches you had just endured, attempting to understand where you were and how you were in fact going to get out of it. "Me?" You reiterated, flashing some puppy dog eyes you knew weren't going to work. But it was worth a try in this situation.

He nodded and then a word slipped from his lips. Just one word and that was all you needed to know you were in the shit now. "Crow." Them puppy dog eyes slipped away as easily as they had settled. Suddenly, you came to realise the severity of the situation and you questioned if you would be able to get out of it. The suit man looked over to the captor, nodding his head as if giving a silent command.

Like that, just as he turned his back and started walking away, a fist came flying. The knuckles of the woman's palm cracked against your cheeks with a thud. You had groaned but didn't dare say a word. You glanced back up at her through the lingering bruises. "Are the rest of you crows at the crow club?"

"Why do you want to know?" You should have known where speaking back was going to get you.

Just as quickly as them words had left your lips, another punch came crashing at your jaw. And you struggled with that one. It erupted a groan as you settled within the pain that plagued you. "What about Kaz? He's the boss right?" She continued to interrogate.

You gazed over at her through stern, mean eyes. "You can punch me till I'm bloody, I'm not telling you anything."

This time, a punch didn't follow. Instead, you watched as the woman wandered around the chair you were glued to. She walked over to a side table, retrieving a small box. It wasn't until she opened the box that you grew nervous. There were several tools. Many of them rusty and blunt but in the hand of your kidnapper, still rather painful. She took one of the bluntest knives, one that had rusted so much it was burnt and brown. With that in hand, she wandered around once again.

"Anything you went to get off your chest now?" Asked the woman.

You could feel your breath itch in your throat, feeling her shadow hover right over your shoulder. It was daunting but didn't stop you as you quipped back, "Do your worse." And she certainly did.

She took the blade. At first, it brushed over the prickles of your skin, then, within a flash, you felt it jab into your shoulder. With that, you let out a piercing scream. The metal seeming to have shot so deep into your body it felt as if it were scraping against your bone. You didn't have to look to know it was bleeding. By the time the weapon had dug into your skin, the blood was dripping down towards your elbow.

The woman took a firm grip over the blade. With every single, slight touch it was painful. Just the brush of her fingers against the metal had felt agonising. So when she took a hold of it, a groan escaped your lips. She leaned over the bleeding shoulder, "You're gonna tell me what I need to know." Her voice was a whisper but it felt deafening in your ear.

Your breath was uneven and, just as you were about to catch it, she shoved the blade down further. Another scream erupted from your lips. This one louder and much more of an echo. And once more, she leaned over your shoulder, "Where does Kaz keep the money?"

Once you let out a sigh, you looked over at her, "I'm not telling you." You were stern in your words even if everything in your body already wanted to give in.

This was what being a crow was. It was criminal. It was getting beating up and getting bloody, but it was dealing with that. And so you would. At least, you would try. Because when she even grasped the metal, you were regretting your decisions. "Wait, wait!" She stopped; so did the pain. You took a breath, trying to gather your thoughts that the pain had cut through. "Please..." You couldn't imagine anything worse than another touch from that blade.

She asked the same question: "Where does Kaz keep the money?"

A long moment followed. One in which you knew you were going to give in, even if it killed you to betray Kaz like that. Your fellow crow, your boss, the man who had took you in when you had nothing. "There's a safe. It's under his desk in the office. The office is upstairs in the crow club." Like it was nothing, you spilled everything.

"See," She paused and in one swift movement, tore the knife from your skin. Another scream erupted. But it was the last one you would have to endure. "Wasn't that difficult, was it?" She had no idea what you were in for with Kaz now. "Now, when's this office left empty?"

You knew this plan was so this gang could get their sticky fingers on Kaz's money. And maybe you should have cared more to not spill all this information considering Kaz paid your wage. But alas, the fear of the pain was seeming to pull the words from your lips, "When there's-"

You didn't know why or what had happened at first, only that your kidnapper had fallen right in front of you. Then you spotted the knife in her back. You almost couldn't believe it at first. Well, not until your head snapped up to figure that was wandering from the doorway. "Inej?" The woman removed the scarf that masked her face as she rushed forward without another word.

She went around straight away, her hands reaching out and untying the rope which bound you. "Where is she?" Came another voice which boomed through the building. A wave of guilt passed you as you came to recognise the voice: Kaz.

"In here!" Replied Inej.

And like that, the man came through. His eyes pooled with sympathy, completely unaware of how you had just betrayed him. Not that he had noticed. In that moment, Kaz had never felt such relief. Over the period you had been lost, he hadn't felt himself breathe. He sent Inej and Jesper left, right and centre until finally, they got a hit. A rival gang that barely hand enough bullets to take down the three of them. He couldn't care who had taken you. It could have been the king himself and he would have still swug through battlefields, explored every inch of this world, whatever it took just so it could get to you.

Now, with your eyes interwinding with his, he rushed to you. Inej had only just let the rope fall from your body and it was suddenly being engulfed by Kaz. At first, it had shocked you. Then you soon settled into the comfort which was ever so familiar. With your head situated on his shoulder, your gaze glanced to the doorway, finding Jesper stood there. He too just as relieved, taking in the sight of his boss and his friend tangled within the comfort of one another. Jesper knew that Kaz needed that hug just as much as you - if not more so.

When he pulled away, you were met with that worrisome gaze which seemed to devour you. "Can you stand?" Kaz questioned.

And while you couldn't exactly give him a reply, you nodded and that was enough. His hands came around, taking a hold of your own as he helped you to your feet. He guided you towards the exit, not daring to let his touch fall. About half way there, you both stopped. There came the sound of a thud from behind you. It wasn't until you turned, finding that Inej had pulled her knife from your captor's back that you came to realise why. Of course she taken her knife back. No one chose to comment. Instead, you found that it was normal and continued walking, following Jesper.

By the time you made it home, the Crow Club was empty. It wasn't until later that you would come to realise Kaz had closed the club, needing the empty space to focus on finding you. Something he was thankful for now he had you in his arms.

Once you got home, Jesper pulled a chair up for you, forcing you to sit down as he tended to the wound plaguing your shoulder. Inej was sat on a table across from you, sharpening a knife while Kaz was standing behind you. And for a moment, it was all silent. All their attention was focused on you and the wound which was buried deep into your skin. Yes, it felt as bad as it looked. "You sure you're okay?" Inquired Jesper as he pulled your shirt down for easier access.

You didn't bare look at any of them, knowing the pity you were likely to receive. "I'll be fine, Jesper." You replied without much emotion in your tone.

Jesper gave a concerned look to the man standing behind you. Something of which you had missed, too busy replying the memory of the knife in your shoulder to take note. "Okay, okay." Jesper said. "But just know," He paused as he gathered his needle and thread, "This isn't going to be pretty."

You didn't look to him as you answered, "Just clean it up, will you?" You weren't so much in the mood for Jesper's playful mood like you normally were. "I don't want an infection and a stab wound."

And like that, Jesper's lips stayed sealed as he gathered his items, staring at the wound as he attempted the best way to tackle it without hurting you so much. "What were they asking you?" Inej spoke up as her head lifted to meet yours. "Did you tell them anything?" That question made you wince.

Jesper scoffed, "It doesn't matter anyway, you killed em'." He did make a good point there, something you were silently thankful for.

"And by the looks of things," At the sound of Kaz's voice, you finally turned, meeting his gaze which seemed attached to the wound sitting on your shoulder. "You didn't tell them anything either."

Had it not been for the groan that came with the needle making contact with your shoulder, you might have said. Instead, you sucked in a breath before letting out a, "Jesper." in a snap.

"Sorry," He apologised. "I did say its not gonna be pretty." And with that, he started to thread you skin back together like it were clay.

"Do you know who it was?" Inej continued to interrogate.

You thought on it for a moment but with your pounding head, you couldn't come up with much. "No." You said first. "He wore a suit like he was trying to be more fancy than he was."

"That's it?" Critiqued Jesper from behind you, his snooty tone prompting you to gaze over at him. "He was too fancy for a suit? That's what you gathered?"

Your glare turned deathly, "I was a bit preoccupied with the fact they kept punching and threatening me...obviously." You agrued.

"Careful," Said Jesper. "Don't forget whose holding this needle." The small prick of metal glistened in his hand before your eyes rolled, turning back around.

"So we have no idea who these people are." Kaz concluded as his gaze jumped from you, something which had only enhanced that ever-heavy feeling of guilt which burdened you.

A loud exhale, almost loud enough to be classed as a sigh, came from Inej, "Suppose it's a good thing you didn't tell them anything the-"

"Ouch!" Your voice shot through the club.

All eyes came to you and your burning stare that was being pointed at Jesper. He had slipped. Only the smallest of bits but still, you had snapped at him like that. And what was worse, your anger didn't die down. Instead, you stood abruptly, tearing the needle from further patching up your wound. "Y/n-" Kaz started but you were already walking away.

And without even looking back at him, you said, "I'm fine." And continued on, eager for some privacy where the guilt of spilling your guts didn't linger.

You escaped into your room, taking in the air like it was fresh, like it wasn't intoxicated like the rest of the club was. The room was lonely, and it was empty, free of anyones opinion and judgement. With tears pricking your pupils, you wandered over to the mirror. Your shoulder took all your attention. Sure, Jesper had sewed up about half of it but the wound was still sharp and deep into your skin. It's edges ridgid and screaming to be tended to.

With a huff, you pulled your t-shirt back up, groaning at the pain which came with the contact. And you continued on with shakey legs and even shakier breath as if you could continue on. You soon came to realise it wouldn't be that easy.

The door clicked open and you tensed, suddenly appreciating your back was facing the door. The tears were easily about to slip from your eyes and that was something no one needed to see. "I told you I was fine." You said, sucking in a sharp breath that you preyed gave you the air you needed to not let those tears fall.

"You're not meant to be." Only then did you come to realise the intruder in your room was none other than Kaz Brekker. And his voice was enough to prompt you to turn, meeting his soft features which made you weak. "Whatever you went through, it was always going to be painful."

He had no idea what was truly the cause of your pain. "I've been beaten before Kaz." You argued.

He took a cautious step into the room, knowing you could force him out at any given moment. "None of us expect you to be okay, this wasn't just any normal beating, Y/n." He went on, providing comfort which would normally be accepted. But considering he didn't know the full story, it was a struggle to accept it.

Until, in a rushed decision, you gambled your whole relationship with Kaz. "I don't care that they hurt me, that they punched, stabbed, bled me like I was a doll. I couldn't get less." That part was true. "But I just- I had to."

Kaz's brows knitted, "Had to what?" He queried.

"I had to tell them." Like that, the words hung in the air. "I had to tell them everything." The tears finally started slipping until they were streaming down your cheeks.

The moment Kaz caught sight of that, he rushed over. And just as needy as before, he engulfed your body into his own. "Hey, it's okay." He assured. "All that matters is that you're safe."

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker oneshot #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker fanfiction #freddy carter #freddy carter x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #fanfiction #imagine #x reader

[writersblockedx]

will you keep making your “Savior complex” with soldier boy? i’m invested and want to see where it goes

Hi !! Really sorry but I can't see myself writing another chapter in the near future, thank you for reading though!