.ೃ࿐ 𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 ´ˎ˗
“you were just so pretty, and his mom always said pretty things were made to be admired.”
—Conrad Fisher x fem!reader
—summary: it's a shitshow of a summer, and Conrad Fisher has the prettiest eyes you've ever seen.
—word count: 10k
— tw: alcohol, abuse, smoking, brief panic attack, attempted sexual assault (nothing happens), homophobia, makeout session, lots of fights and crying, cancer (oop, sorry!!), conrad is conrad and connor is toxic bf, apologies for any confusion but the names contribute to the storyline!! pls lmk if I left anything out, its a long ass fic and there's a chance I'm missing something.
—a/n: this is the longest fic i've ever written, and if you see the word count and decide against it, i urge you to rethink your decision!! i promise, if you're a conrad lover, this fic is WORTH IT!!
You were never one to back down from a party, and this was something everyone in Cousins knew.
You came to Cousins every summer with your family, your summer house being just across the street from the Fisher’s. You grew up alongside Belly, Steven, Conrad, Jeremiah, and your own brother, Tate. Every summer you were constantly at each other’s houses, surfing, swimming, barbecuing, the six of you did everything together. And now that you were all older, you partied together.
Ever since the summer Belly and Jere turned 16, you all looked forward to the first bonfire of the year. You and Belly would get ready together while she gushed about whatever boy she was crushing on and she’d ask you when you and Conrad were going to finally get together. You would always shake your head and blush, insisting that Conrad could never see you that way. Then you’d meet up with the boys, take a couple shots, snap a couple of photos then finally be on your way down to the beach. It was a night you always held dear to your heart.
Until this summer, when you brought your boyfriend to Cousins, and you did everything in your power to turn down the bonfire this year.
“What’s this about the bonfire?” Conrad entered the room and you froze. God, how could you ever forget how fucking pretty he is?
“Y/n’s not coming.” Steven huffed.
Conrad furrowed his eyebrows as he made his way over to you, pulling you in for a side hug and planting a kiss on the top of your head. You hadn’t seen each other since last summer, and he was absent when you and your brother first made your way over to the Fisher’s.
“Probably because she wants to suck face with her new boyfriend.” Tate rolled his eyes before throwing an almond in the air and catching it between his teeth.
Conrad immediately took a step back and the other 2 boys looked at you with wide eyes, “BOYFRIEND?!”
You rolled your eyes and turned on your heels to grab a glass from the cabinet before filling it up with water from the fridge. “Chill out, we’ve only been together for a couple of months.”
“Tell Connor that. Boy’s obsessed with her.” Your brother said.
“Tate-” you warned. If the boys knew how your boyfriend was, this summer wouldn’t end well.
“Literally never lets her go anywhere without him, it’s so-”
You cut him off by throwing an almond at his face, “Quit it.”
“Wait, and he’s here?” Jeremiah asked, eyes brightening.
You nodded, sipping on your water. “Bring him!”
“Bring who?” Belly’s voice rang through the kitchen, having missed the conversation because she had to use the restroom.
“Y/n has a boyfriendddd.” Steven sang in a mock tease, making kissy faces while Jeremiah joined in.
Conrad stayed silent.
“Wait what about-”
“Shut, Belly.” You cut off the younger girl, shooting her a glare.
She closed her mouth immediately.
“Yeah, (Y/n/n), bring him.” Conrad finally broke his silence, cocking his head at you with a lopsided smirk.
“I don’t think–”
“Come onnnn, we do this every year! Boy toy can tag along for one night!” Jeremiah pleaded, putting on his puppy dog face again, and how the fuck werw you supposed to say no to that?
The kitchen erupted into cheers and whoops of victory, both Steven and Jeremiah standing from their seats to throw their arms around you and jostle you back and forth. You smiled, but you couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, or the way Conrad’s eyes hadn’t left yours.
“Connor, they’re practically my family, can you please just be a normal boyfriend for like 2 seconds?!”
The two of you had been at it like this for almost an hour now, ever since you told him you were both going to the bonfire. Of course Connor was insecure about the 3 incredibly handsome boys you considered your best friends, but Connor would be insecure about anyone with two legs touching you with a 10 foot pole.
“Well, I’m sorry if I’m not particularly keen on 3 guys making googly eyes at my girlfriend all night!”
You let out an exasperated grunt, covering your eyes with your hands. “Steven has a girlfriend, Jeremiah’s been seeing someone, Tate is literally my brother and Conrad may as well be my brother too! He’s barely even talked to me all year anyway, probably has some girlfriend that he’s been hiding.”
“None of that means anything, I know how guys are! I am one!”
You laughed, but there was absolutely nothing funny. “Okay, so you’re saying, since you’re a guy, even though you have a girlfriend, if a prettier girl walked onto the beach for the bonfire you wouldn’t care about me?”
Connor shut his mouth, refusing to respond. You nodded, and crossed your arms, chuckling to yourself. “I’m late getting ready with Belly. I’ll see you there, asshole.” You made sure to bump his shoulder with yours as you passed, which you regretted.
He grabbed your wrist in his large hand, “Hey.”
His voice was low, almost a warning, as he squeezed your wrist harder, yanking you towards him, his face dangerously close to yours.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Don’t speak to me like that.”
“Say you’re sorry.”
“Say,” He tightened his grip and you whimpered, “You’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry.” You tried to keep your tone even, but the words came out like a broken whisper.
He let go suddenly, causing you to stumble backwards. “Good girl. I’ll see you there.”
The walk to the Fisher’s was a quick one, and luckily your tears had dissipated by the time you arrived at the front door. There was never a need to knock, not with you.
You turned your head to see two of the most radiant women you’ve ever known, gossipping over their glasses of pinot grigio no doubt, both smiling at you with open arms.
You smiled and made your way over, gladly accepting the embraces of the two women, and thanking the Universe that you wore a long sleeve to hide the marks on your wrist.
“Oh it is so good to see you, baby!” Susannah gushed, planting her hands on the side of your face and planting a big kiss on each cheek.
“You’ve gotten so tall, my goodness!” Laurel said, practically looking up at you since you towered over the much smaller woman.
“I know, we’re all growin’ up!”
Susannah covered her ears, “No, no, no! You’re all still my babies!”
You giggled and pulled the blonde woman in for a side hug, resting your head on her shoulder.
“I just can’t believe it. You, Connie, Steve and Tate are all old enough to buy your own wine now!” Susannah said.
“Yup, we don’t have to fill up your vodka bottles with water anymore!”
Laurel and Susannah gasped and you rolled your eyes, “Like you guys didn’t know.”
“Yeah, well we had a feeling, but Jeremiah and Belly better be staying away from you four while you buy your own now!” Laurel said, waving her finger at you, but you could hear the humor in her voice.
You nodded and saluted her, “Scout’s honor, Laur.”
Of course the two moms knew what you kids got up to when they weren’t around during the summer, but they trusted you, and they knew the babies of the group were in good hands as long as you were around.
“Well, get upstairs! Bell’s been eagerly waiting for you to curl her hair.”
You made your way upstairs, pausing when you heard multiple voices coming from Belly’s room, and you took a deep breath, putting on your best smile before you opened the door.
“Finally!” Belly exasperated as soon as the door creaked open. “I need you to curl my hair, Jere keeps fucking it up.”
Your heart swelled at the sight of poor Jeremiah just trying his best to help out his best friend, curling iron in hand.
Steven laid on the bed, cradling a six pack of Coronas as he handed one to you, but not before popping the top off with his teeth.
“You’re gonna lose all your teeth before you’re 40.” You teased.
You rolled your eyes and took a swig from your beer, stepping over the discarded clothes on the floor so you could gently take the curling iron from Jeremiah.
“I’ll take it from here, babe.”
“If you would’ve given me like, 5 more minutes I could’ve gotten it down.”
Belly giggled as you got to work on her hair, taking a break every couple of minutes to sip your beer or take a hit from Steven’s vape while he wasn’t looking.
“So, where's the boy toy?” Jeremiah asked.
You flopped on the bed as you were done with Belly’s hair. “He’s gonna meet us at the party, I think he wanted to take a nap or something before, he was pretty tired from all the driving.”
“You two drove separately?” Steven asked with a raised eyebrow.
You nodded. “Tate went with my parents.”
“Awee I miss your parents! Why haven’t they been over yet?” Jeremiah asked.
“They went straight into town for groceries and errands, they’ll come by tomorrow I’m sure.”
The curly haired boy nodded and went to reach for another beer.
You and Steven locked eyes, “Nose goes!”
Both your fingers whipped to your noses at the speed of light, but you were too slow.
“I don’t wanna go alone!” You complained and Steven situated his hands under his head, getting comfortable. “Well you’re gonna have-”
“I’ll go with you.”
You all looked up at Conrad, who was suddenly in the doorway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
You nodded and stood, telling everyone you’d meet them there with more drinks.
You smiled at Conrad as you passed by him, but of course he didn’t return it, simply just pushing himself off the wall to follow you down the stairs.
You prepared to pull your keys from your purse but Conrad had already grabbed his keys from the hook by the front door.
You decided against arguing with Conrad, knowing it wouldn’t do any good, so instead you nodded and gave him a weak smile.
“How’s your mom, Con?”
“Better. One year cancer free.”
You smiled. You remembered the summer that everyone found out, it wasn’t an easy summer. Conrad had told you early on about what he knew, and made you swear not to tell, and of course you didn’t, which caused a nasty fight between you and Jeremiah. He didn’t speak to you until the next summer.
“That’s really good to hear.”
You rolled your eyes. “That’s all anyone cares about.”
Conrad looked at you for a moment before fixating his eyes back on the road. “Maybe. Is it so bad we all care about who you’re dating.”
“What’s his name?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged and continued to drive.
You both sat in silence the rest of the very short drive to the liquor store, and both exited his car in sync once you’d arrived.
The bell on the door chimed when you walked in and you smiled, for some reason that chime made you think about how this is only the beginning of the summer. There was so much time left, and you just couldn’t help the small smile that played at your lips.
If Conrad noticed your smile, he didn’t say anything about it, staying quiet, as usual, as he browsed all the beer and seltzer options.
But, of course he noticed the smile. How could he not? That same damn smile that’s made his heart race for his entire goddamn life, the smile that always made him blush and go speechless. Of course he fucking noticed.
Conrad was snapped from his trance when you bumped his shoulder, that captivating smile adorning your face while you held up a bottle of titos and a bag of red solo cups.
Conrad shook his head, “Jesus Christ.”
“Grab the lemonade?”
“You tryna get me hammered?”
You smirked, “I don’t know. Maybe.”
You readjusted the items in your arms, making your sleeves roll up, and you had completely forgotten about Connor until you saw Conrad’s eyes glued to your wrist.
“What is that?”
“It’s nothing, I- I tripped.”
He raised an eyebrow.
You tried to walk away, but Conrad stepped in the way.
“Who did that to you?”
“I told you-”
“Who did that to you.” This time the words tumbled past his lips as a statement, not a question. He knew who did this to you, and he wanted you to say it.
“Was it Connor?”
“I’m not doing this with you right now, Con.” You said, and spun on your heels the opposite direction to pay for the things in your hands, leaving Conrad alone, holding 2 liters of lemonade.
As you parked on the beach, alcohol and red cups in hand, you saw Connor reach out to shake Jeremiah’s hand and it almost felt like everything happened in slow motion, and you’ve never gotten out of a car faster in your life.
You ignored Conrad calling your name and rushed to where your boyfriend was introducing himself to your friends, panic rising in your chest at what he could’ve said in your absence.
“There she is!” Jeremiah grinned when he saw you, pulling you in for a hug by the waist, lifting you up and spinning you in the air.
You could practically feel the heat from the steam blowing out of Connor’s ears.
“Hey, guys.” You smiled. “I brought the goods!”
“Lemonade and Titos?! Oh man, Y/n/n, you’re gonna kill us.” Tate laughed as he pulled the contents out of the bag.
“That's our girl!” Steven smiled, wrapping a hand around Shayla’s waist.
“Shayla!” You smiled once you noticed her presence.
You both laughed as she pulled you in for a hug, rocking you back and forth.
“So good to see you!” She said. Her cute accent had faded more and more over the years, but it was still there.
“You too! This is my boyfriend,” You decided you should acknowledge him, not wanting to deal with the consequences if you didn’t. “Connor.”
Shayla stuck out her hand with a smile, but all she got from Connor was a head nod, before he focused his attention elsewhere. Shayla smiled awkwardly and stepped back into Steven’s embrace, and your cheeks burned red.
“Connor.” You scolded under your breath, but he didn’t acknowledge you, continuing to sip on his beer.
You let your gaze wander when you felt a pair of eyes on you. Conrad was only a few feet away, his blue eyes staring straight through you over his red solo cup tucked between his lips.
The kind of stare that could make any girl's knees buckle and pupils turn to hearts. It felt like you were the only girl on earth, the only girl to ever exist.
And he was looking at you like that.
You looked down after what felt like an eternity of locking eyes with Conrad Fisher, and busied yourself with making a drink, pouring a larger amount of vodka into the red cup than you normally would, only topping it off with lemonade, and immediately downing the cup before quickly pouring yourself another one.
Connor kept a firm grip on you all night, so firm you were sure there were bruises forming on your hips and shoulders, and the drunker you got, the more tired of it you became.
Conrad kept a close eye on you. Physically, he kept his distance, but his eyes never tore away from you. He saw your grimacing, your uncomfortable cringing and the frown that etched itself onto your face anytime you thought no one was looking.
You tried your best to loosen up, especially when Jeremiah brought his new boo over to meet everyone. You fixed your hair and put on your biggest smile as you shook hands with the boy.
“I’m Hayden!” He smiled, “It’s so nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so much about each of you!”
“Trust me, we’ve heard a LOT about you.” Belly teased, earning a sharp look from Jeremiah.
“All good things, Hayden, we promise!” You reassured him, lightly pinching Belly on the arm, but the girl just giggled.
“Wait a second, Y/n, you have the same tattoo as Jere?” Hayden asked, pointing to the small stingray on your side. You forgot since your long sleeve shirt was so cropped, it was visible.
“Oh, yeah! We all do! Got it the summer baby Bells turned 18!” You smiled, gesturing to the rest of the group, who all slowly revealed their own tattoos on their sides.
“Y/n got stung by a stingray and forced us all to spend a whole week with her on the couch instead of, like, actually doing fun stuff.” Tate explained.
“Hey!” You scolded, “It turned out to be a lot of fun! We made margaritas everyday, and we went outside! I sat on the chair while you guys swam in the pool.”
“Oh, yeah!” Steven laughed, “Conrad was basically her nurse for the week, wouldn’t leave her side.”
“Oh, Y/n, does it hurt? Do you need ice? Oh Y/n, don’t walk, let me carry you!” Jeremiah said in a high pitched voice, hands clutched over his heart, pretending to be a lovesick Conrad.
You looked down at the sand as the rest of the group laughed, not daring to look in the direction of Conrad or Connor.
You were starting to understand the humor in their names.
“Anyway, it turned out to be a memorable week for all six of us, we all got a hell of a lot closer, which we all thought was impossible. So we got stingray tattoos a couple summers later, all thanks to our Y/n!” Jere said, trying his best to break the tension that only he seemed to notice.
“We need to talk.” Connor growled, immediately walking away from the circle, kicking sand in the direction of everyone else as he walked and your heart sank.
Belly shot you a concerned look but you shook your head, urging her to stay out of it, before you pushed your drink into Tate’s hands and followed after Connor a ways down the beach, closer to the water.
You missed the way Conrad’s eyes followed you.
“What’s up?” You asked, seemingly nonchalant as you stuck your hands in your pockets.
“What’s up?” Connor scoffed, shaking his head. “What’s up is that I want you to stay away from Conrad, and Jeremiah for that matter.”
“You’re kidding me, Connor.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” His face was hard as stone, his teeth clenched and you thought the red solo cup he was clenching was seconds away from turning into dust.
“But nothing, Y/n. Conrad is basically eye fucking you and I don’t like the way Jeremiah is touchy with you. You show up, alone with Conrad who is obviously into you, and matching stingray tattoos?! You have to be fucking kidding me, this is all so ridiculous.”
“That’s just Jere! He’s like that with everyone, besides, he’s with someone!”
“Who’s a guy! You really think that’s gonna last? What’s he supposed to be, bisexual? He’s just doing it out of boredom and a need for attention. If you think otherwise you’re an idiot.”
You thanked the Universe that Jeremiah was all the way up the beach, just imagining the look on his face if he heard that broke your heart, but barely a second passed before you were fuming, and all you saw was red.
“How fucking dare you?” You seethed.
“You only defended Jeremiah, why not Conrad?” He asked, completely dodging the blatant homophobia he spewed from his mouth just a second before.
“You need to leave.” You said, your voice low. “You need to go back to my house, pack your things and go home.”
“Like hell I am. You need me. You’re not gonna leave me ‘cause you’re scared, aren’t you, princess?” He spat, and your face fell.
“I hate you.” Your tone faltered as tears began to fall down your face.
“You love Conrad, don’t you?”
You didn’t respond, only choosing to wrap your arms around yourself and continue to cry, wishing this was just a nightmare.
Connor pushed you and you stumbled back, losing your footing and falling into the water, lightly gasping at the cold.
Conrad was up in a second, being the only one watching you from the group’s spot on the beach, storming towards the two of you, but not making too much of a scene so the other friends wouldn't follow him, but he knew they were too drunk anyway.
He downed the rest of his drink, crushing it in his fist and throwing it in the opposite direction. He’d pick it up tomorrow.
Before he knew it, he had Connor by the neck of his tee shirt, nearly lifting him off of the ground.
“Touch her again, and you’re fucking dead.”
“Con…” Your small voice shook him, and he let go of Connor, but not without a forceful push, who immediately tried to take steps toward you.
“WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY?!” Conrad’s voice boomed and your boyfriend raised his hands in surrender, taking his steps backwards.
“It was an accident-”
“Shut up.” Conrad’s breathing was becoming uneven, and you could tell he was getting angry.
“Connor, just go home, okay? That’s enough.”
Connor grumbled and rolled his eyes but eventually turned away, walking down the beach in the complete opposite direction of your house.
“Come on.” Conrad gestured for you to take his hands, and you did, allowing him to help you up.
“Will you take me home?”
“Mine or yours?”
“Yours. Please yours.”
Everyone decided to just come home with you guys, all of their eyelids heavy with sleep and brains fogged over from the alcohol.
Tate decided to stay over as well, claiming he was too tired to walk all the way back to your house across the street, but you didn’t blame him, it sounded like a pretty far walk to you too.
Belly let you borrow clothes and use her shower and face wash, and when you were done the poor girl was already fast asleep in a starfish position in bed. You smiled and shut the door as lightly as you could before making your way down the stairs, the couch would suffice for one night.
But there he was, Conrad Fisher, in all his glory, sitting on the couch and staring out the window, wide awake.
“I have to tell your family, you know that don’t you?”
Your heart sank.
The boy turned to look at you, sadness heavy in his ocean eyes.
“Why wouldn’t you want me to?”
“That was only the first time something like that’s happened-”
“I swear I’m not just some pathetic girl that lets a guy throw her around like a ragdoll-”
“I just- I can’t breathe, Conrad.”
Conrad was up off the couch in the blink of an eye, immediately in front of you with his hands firmly holding the sides of your face.
“I know.” He whispered, taking deep breaths in hopes that you’d subconsciously copy them.
“You got it.” He praised, his thumb lightly stroking your cheekbone.
You shook your head, eyes wide with fear, but Conrad only nodded.
“Keep following my breaths, you’re halfway there.”
You did as he said, because you’d do just about anything Conrad Fisher said.
“Y/n/n, what is going on?” He asked once you’d calmed down, his hands still not leaving your face.
You sighed and brought your own hands up to hold his wrists closing your eyes.
“Hey.” He said, shaking his hands just slightly so you’d look at him. “I won’t say anything, if you just tell me.”
So, you took a deep breath, and you told him everything.
It had only been a couple weeks since the incident, and Conrad kept to his word. You told him everything, trying your best to keep your tears at bay while Conrad wiped the few stray ones that escaped from your eyes. You told him you just needed some time, if you broke up with Connor now, the summer wouldn’t end well, and you were terrified of what he’d do if you left. Conrad tried to convince you that so many people had your back, and there was nothing to be scared of, but you just shook your head. You had to do this on your own time, and eventually, after hours of talking, Conrad agreed to keep your secret.
And Connor had kept it civil since then as well, staying calm for the sake of not getting the shit beat out of him by your brother, and things were almost perfect. It was just like old times, volleyball at the beach, taco night every Tuesday, and of course, Belly’s birthday.
You and Tate helped Laurel, Susannah and Steven set up the kitchen for breakfast and presents, trying your best to be silent as to not wake everyone else in the house, but of course you all ended up giggling a bit too loudly anyway, because Conrad and Jeremiah came trudging down the stairs, rubbing sleep out of their eyes.
“Oh, I’m sorry boys! Did we wake you?” Susannah cooed, pinching both of their cheeks, getting the boys to smile.
“Nah, it’s Belly’s birthday! ‘Course we’re awake.” Jeremiah said with a sleepy smile.
You always adored the love the two boys had for Belly. Jeremiah would throw her over his shoulder and exclaim “This is my best friend!” Making other girls go green with envy, but he never cared, she was his best friend, and he wanted the world to know it.
Conrad was more subtle, you always noticed how his eyes searched for her at parties, and once he had eyes on her and saw that she was safe and smiling, he’d visibly relax and get back to whatever conversation he was having.
It was precious.
“There she is!” You beamed when Belly came down the stairs, hair and makeup already done, with a smile on her face.
“Happy birthday Bells!” You bounded over to her and everyone else followed, pulling the birthday girl in for a big hug, swaying her back and forth.
“I just want my pancakes!” She groaned, but you could see the smile and blush that overtook her face.
Laurel rolled her eyes and brought her daughter in for a solo hug, kissing the side of her face, “Alright, alright, missy. Let’s get to it then!”
Belly happily ate her minnie mouse pancakes and opened each present, giggling like a little girl over how much she loved all of them and giving everyone separate hugs, thanking them a thousand times over.
“Where’s Connor?” Susannah asked as the two of you were putting discarded gift wrap and tissue paper into trash bags. Belly and Jeremiah left, going for a morning birthday swim with Hayden, Laurel went to take a nap, and Tate, Steven and Conrad were playing video games in the other room.
“He, uh, wanted to sleep in.” You said, faking a smile.
Susannah paused for a moment, before continuing to pick up trash. “Well, you tell that boy if he wants to be a part of this family then he has to join all the traditions next year.”
You laughed and nodded, “I will.”
Susannah set the trash bag on the floor and patted the couch next to her, you obliged.
“You can tell me anything, you know that honey?”
You nodded, “Of course.”
The blonde woman kissed your head and smiled. “Alright. Well, this mama needs a nap. Too much excitement for one morning.”
You nodded and bid her a “goodnight”, then went to check and see how the boys were doing with their video game.
“Little sisterrrrr!” Tate exclaimed as you walked into the room, plopping yourself down next to Conrad, who didn’t seem to want to look at you.
“What are you guys up to in here?”
“Killin’ zombies.” Steven answered, not moving his focus from the TV screen.
“What’s the plan for today?”
Steven shrugged and you gasped. “It’s your sister’s birthday!”
“Then we’ll do whatever she wants to do when she gets back, jeez!” Steven said, still not moving his gaze from the TV.
The boys got back into the flow of the game, and you took your opportunity to look at Conrad, who, unbeknownst to you, was extremely aware of your eyes on him.
How could he not when he felt like his skin was on fire every time your eyes graced his frame?
He took a chance and looked at you out of the corner of his eye and you could feel your cheeks heat up as you tried to hide a smile, suddenly very interested in whatever was going on in their video game and Conrad could feel his heart swell. He did that.
But his heart only deflated once more when your phone lit up with a text from Connor.
It was gonna be a long fucking summer.
“Uh, Connor just texted me, he wants to know the plans for the day, should I just tell him to meet us here?”
“Hell yeah, tell Con to come on over.” Tate said.
Conrad felt an angry bubble in his stomach, that was his nickname.
Ever since you were little, everyone’s nickname for him was Connie, but you decided to call him Con, you claimed it was different, it set you apart from everyone else. He didn’t have the heart to tell you it really wasn’t that much different, because there weren’t many nicknames for his name, but he liked that it made you happy that you had a special one.
And now Connor was coming in to take that from him.
“Hey guys.” Connor greeted as he entered the room, a small smile on his face that quickly faltered when he made eye contact with Conrad. You told Connor that he was going to keep your secret, but he still felt uneasy in his presence.
Which is exactly what Conrad wanted.
“What’s the plan for today?” Connor asked, taking a seat next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulders.
“There’s a party tonight somewhere, I don’t really remember where, Shayla texted me about it.”
After a couple more minutes of awkward silence, the only noise being the sound of zombies dying and guns firing from the TV, the morning swim trio appeared in the living room, all already showered and dressed for the day.
“Hey, happy birthday Belly!” Connor said, digging through his pockets and handing the younger girl a small envelope. You were completely taken back, you hadn’t expected Connor to get her anything, let alone even acknowledge her birthday.
It was a silly card, a giraffe wearing a party hat, and inside was a messily scribbled, “Happy birthday Belly! -Connor” and a $50 bill.
“Connor.” You said, your voice light, impressed by the boy’s actions.
“Wow, thank you, Connor!” Belly said before running up to her room to stash her cash.
“You didn’t have to do that, babe.”
“She’s like your little sister, of course I did! I know how special her birthday is around here.” He said before kissing your head and you smiled.
“You’re alright, Con.” Steven said, pointing to him.
Lord help Conrad Fisher.
The day had gone by agonizingly slow, you had a new found likeness for Connor and were attached to him all day, holding his hand and giggling at his dumb jokes, and Conrad felt like he was going to vomit. By the time the sun went down, and the group decided to head to the party, Conrad was ready for a drink, or 10.
And of course, Connor offered to be the DD.
Conrad disappeared upon arrival, looking for the alcohol and a random girl he could at least makeout with to get his mind off of you and Connor. Just drink, makeout and get the fuck out, that was the plan.
But of course, this was summer in Cousins, and it was the Fisher’s, Conklin’s and Y/L/N’s, nothing ever went to fucking plan.
Usually, you never let yourself get too drunk, especially around Belly and Jeremiah, because you swore to their moms you’d always look out for them, but you were feeling especially carefree tonight, and Connor was actually being sweet, so you started chugging.
“So, you all smitten for Con now?” Conrad asked as he approached you from behind at the drink table, and you turned to look at him cocking your head.
“Come on. You cry to me about how much you hate him and now you’re all up on him.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Yeah, maybe I wanna give the relationship that I have a chance, would that be so bad?”
Conrad clenched his teeth. “He pushed you, Y/n.”
“Like a month ago.”
“It’s been 2 weeks.”
“God, same thing! He was drunk and frustrated, it hasn’t happened since!”
“And your wrist.”
“Fuck you, Conrad.”
Conrad laughed, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What did I do? Huh? Fuck that guy-” He pointed to Connor, who was taking a shot with Belly while exclaiming Happy Birthday, “Who put his hands on my girl.”
You raised an eyebrow and Conrad cursed under his breath.
“Your girl? Seriously?”
Own up to it, Con.
“Forget it.” You spat before walking away, and “accidentally” stepping on his toe, causing Conrad to grimace, but he kept his mouth shut.
You maneuvered your way through the party, double fisting two drinks since one was for Jeremiah but you decided to walk in the opposite direction, desperately needing to cool off before you rejoined your friends.
You felt a hand around your waist and you groaned, quickly whipping around to who you thought would be Conrad.
“Conrad, I swear-”
“Conrad?” The stranger inquired, a playful smirk on his lips. “I’m way more handsome than that punk.”
You swallowed as you stared at the guy, perfectly gelled blond hair, blue eyes, and fucking boat shoes. You were screwed.
“Excuse me.” You said, trying to move past him but he held his grip tight on you.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Yeah you’re not just anything, sweetheart. Come on.” He said, beginning to pull you up the stairs.
Conrad. You wanted Conrad. No, fuck that, you needed Conrad.
“CON!” You screamed without thinking, and the stranger that had you in his hold groaned and let go of you, he figured you were yelling for Conrad Fisher, and he knew better than to get in that guy’s face.
You were left alone on the stairs, breathing heavily with your hand clutched to your chest, tears threatening to spill when Connor appeared in front of you.
“Hey, babe. I’m right here, what happened?”
“That guy-” You pointed in his direction, but you were cut off upon seeing Conrad right behind your boyfriend, out of breath.
Connor thought you’d called for him.
And they both came.
“Let’s get you home, okay?” Connor said and you nodded, not breaking your eye contact with Conrad, who’s pretty blue eyes were piercing right through you.
You let Connor lead you to his car, assuring everyone that you were fine, just didn’t feel good, and after Shayla told Connor she could take everyone home, that she hadn’t been drinking either, you were on your way home.
You woke up to what looked like about a million text messages. The first one you saw being from Conrad.
Con: text me when u get home safe.
Con: i’m sorry.
You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head, you’d deal with him later.
Then you scrolled more.
Tate: Come to the Fisher’s when you wake up.
Mom: Hi honey, call me when you wake up.
Bells: Please come over as soon as you’re awake.
Bells: Don’t bring Connor.
And a million more missed calls from Belly, Steven, Tate, your mom, and Laurel. You were concerned about the lack of notifications from Conrad, Jeremiah and Susannah.
What the actual fuck? You were in a full blown panic now. Ripping the blankets off of your body, not bothering to put on any actual clothes, or shoes, and running straight across the street to your friend’s house, yanking open the door.
You hurried further into the house, rounding the corner into the kitchen, and you were greeted by a very distressed Jeremiah, sitting on a stool at the kitchen island.
“Jere? What the fuck is going on?”
The boy turned to look at you and your heart broke, the pain was written all over his face.
“It’s back.” He said, his voice cracking.
“Oh my god…”
“The cancer’s fucking back.” He broke, his body slumped over the counter and he gripped his hair in his hands so forcefully you were afraid he’d rip it out as his body racked with sobs.
“Fuck, Jere.” You exhaled, moving quickly to pull your best friend off of the kitchen counter and into your arms, which he did willingly, and he held onto you tighter than he ever had.
You stood like that for along time, Jeremiah still sitting with his face buried in your shoulder, heart wrenching cries falling past his lips as your tee shirt started to get so wet it stuck to your skin, but you really didn’t give a fuck.
You weren’t sure how long Susannah had been standing there, you weren’t even sure how long you had been standing there, but when you looked up to see the blonde woman in the doorway, she was smiling sadly, wiping a stray tear.
“Suze…” You said and held an arm out, still holding Jeremiah close, not wanting to be the one to let go of him first.
She joined the embrace, and only then did you allow yourself to cry. You wanted so badly to be strong for Jere, but it was hard when the woman you considered a mother, sometimes even more than your own, was so sick, once again.
“I love you.” You said, trying your best to keep your voice even, even though it was uncontrollably shaking.
“I love you so much more, baby.” She said, kissing the top of your head.
“Let’s go outside with the others, Jere.” She said once she pulled away, helping up her son and smiling when he wrapped an arm around her, assisting her to the backyard.
“Connie’s in his bedroom.” Susannah said, squeezing your hand. “I think he really needs you.”
You nodded and wiped your tears. The last thing you wanted was to let Conrad see your tears, he’d immediately close his emotions off so he could be there for you. That was just who he was.
If you thought Jeremiah had broken your heart, Conrad had completely shattered it.
He was laying sideways in a fetal position on his bed, his head where his feet would normally be, his hand clutching the comforter beneath him as he sobbed and you wasted no time laying down with him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. You replaced the comforter with your hand, letting him squeeze the shit out of it while you held him close, leaving chaste kisses on his shoulder and the back of his neck.
“This is bullshit.” He sobbed, “That’s my fucking mom!”
You tried so hard to resist crying with him, but it was too hard to keep in, and before you knew it the tears were flowing down your cheeks and onto your neck.
“I’m so sorry, Conrad.” You whispered and he didn’t respond. What was he supposed to say? That it’s okay? It wasn’t. It was far from okay. The world was cruel and it was never okay.
“I’m right here, I’m here.” You said, your words were barely even breaths, so gentle against his skin as you tried your best to hide your tears.
When he felt the gentle shake of your body he turned in your arms and wrapped his own around you. Of course, he knew how much his mom meant to you, she’d been there for you since the beginning. The 3 summers that your mom didn’t join because she decided to pack up and leave you, your brother and your dad, Susannah made sure she stepped up for all the mom duties. The first summer your mom rejoined the family and you refused to stay in a house with her, you stayed at the Fisher’s. The summer when your migraines got so bad you could barely leave the house for a week straight, Susannah let you sleep in her bed, because you claimed it was the comfiest one you’d ever been in the summer before.
“I’m so sorry about-” Conrad started, but you immediately shook your head. “Doesn’t matter.”
Conrad nodded, and the two of you held each other for a really long time, so long that you must’ve fallen asleep, because next thing you knew, your eyes shot open, and it was dark outside.
Did you sleep all day?
You were still wrapped up in Conrad’s arms, and your heart melted at the soft breaths that escaped from his lips.
How could you ever even consider working things out with Connor?
After the way he talked about your friends, the things he said about Jeremiah, the way he put his hands on you, how could you ever even have thought about choosing him over the boy whose arms you were currently wrapped up in?
You reached up and ran a finger across his cheekbone, smiling when he nuzzled closer to you under your touch, and placed a soft kiss on his jaw.
The answer was clear, but you could only wish it was that simple.
“Yo, Connor! Wanna be my pong partner?!” Jeremiah enthused, running up to you and your boyfriend like a puppy dog.
You nudged Connor, encouraging him to go and he said yes, clapping Jeremiah on the back and calling him “buddy”. It was going to be the two of them, vs Conrad and Tate, the two people that Connor should never fuck with.
It was the 4th of July, and usually, all of the adults were present for the barbecue and fireworks, but apparently Susannah had a new boyfriend, who owned a yacht, and he invited all of them onto his boat for the day.
After the news of her cancer coming back, everyone was really shaken, but she assured everyone she was going to fight even harder this time, and no one deserved a tipsy day on a boat with a handsome man more than Susannah did.
You sat on a lawn chair, sipping on a vodka lemonade with Hayden and Belly, giggling at their friendly banter of who they thought was going to win. You glanced at Steven and Shayla across the pool, smiling to yourself as you caught a sweet kiss between the two of them.
Connor would never kiss you like that.
“Earth to Y/n!”
You snapped out of your trance and fixed your eyes on Jere, who was looking at you like he was waiting for an answer.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Jeremiah just giggled, “Who do you think made it in first?? Connor or Conrad?”
You looked between the two boys, contemplating your decision.
Connor and Jeremiah both yelled in victory, hands up in the air before they hugged, jumping up and down.
You sneaked a glance at Conrad, who was already looking at you. Eyes squinted.
It was gonna be a long fucking summer.
You ended up having to put Connor to bed up in Steven’s room, who told you he wasn’t even going to be staying there tonight anyway while he winked at Shayla.
Your boyfriend had probably had a little bit more than one too many shots, considering the fact that he was mostly taking them by himself, so everyone else still had energy for at least another 5 hours, Connor was down for the count.
You tucked him in and left a glass of water and a bottle of tylenol on the nightstand, and a bucket on the floor just in case, then you turned out the light and shut the door, bounding down the stairs with a grin.
You were more than happy to get rid of Connor for a few hours.
You approached the group, all standing in a circle outside, playfully arguing about something and stood on your tippy toes to wrap an arm around Conrad’s shoulders and rest your chin on his shoulder.
Conrad smiled and gripped your wrist in his hand before leaning forward, bringing you up off of the ground and readjusting you so you were fully wrapped around him, before standing straight again and locking his arms around the back of your knees.
“Hi Y/n/n.” He said, turning his head to try and get even a small glimpse of you.
“Hi, Con.” You whispered, and his legs felt like jello.
For a second, Conrad forgot anybody else was even there, it felt like just the two of you. It was cheesy, of course it was, but sometimes cheesy is just reality. You were the only other person there.
“Looks like Y/n chose the wrong Con!” Tate teased and just like that, the moment was ruined. You frowned and slid off of Conrad’s back, the boy already missing the feeling of you around him, your soft cheek squished on his shoulder.
“Way to make it weird, Tate.” You muttered under your breath and Tate rolled his eyes.
“It was a joke! Come on, the sun hasn’t even set yet. Another round of shots?” Your brother asked, slowly walking backwards towards the kitchen, waiting for everyone to follow him.
Belly was the first, then Shayla, then Steven, then Jeremiah and Hayden, and eventually it was just you and Conrad outside.
“You wanna join them?” Conrad asked and you shrugged.
“Come on.” He encouraged, gesturing his head inside and you rolled your eyes, but still had the ghost of a smile on your list.
“Shots?” He asked.
“Yeah, yeah.” You playfully shoved him and he snatched your wrist, pulling you into his side and throwing his arm over your shoulder.
You did a round of shots, then you did two, then eventually three, and before you knew it everyone was laughing their asses off about some story Jeremiah was telling about how the two of you got hammered last summer and woke up on a random guy’s boat in the middle of the bay.
“I’m pretty sure Jere was still drunk.” You giggled, wiping a tear from your eye that had formed from your laughter.
And surprise, surprise, Conrad couldn't take his eyes off of you the entire time.
You were just so pretty, and his mom always said that pretty things were made to be admired.
“You guys.” Jeremiah said, slamming his hands on the counter, eyes wide, causing everyone to slightly jump.
You turned your head to look out the french doors, the sun did indeed go down, and you could already see a couple stray fireworks in the distance.
Everyone shared a look then ran out the door to get to the beach and start the fireworks, but before you could make it out the door, someone grabbed your hand, and you turned to see Conrad, his eyes shining.
And how could you say no to that face?
You nodded and laced your fingers through his, allowing him to lead the way out to the docks and giggling when he picked up the pace, running like a little kid to jump in the water with his childhood crush.
It was perfect.
As soon as you arrived on the edge you threw off your shorts and tossed your phone on top of them, already in a bikini, and jumped in, Conrad not far behind you.
You emerged from the water and smiled, covering your eyes with your hands to rub out any water that had made its way in, and when you opened your eyes to find Conrad, he was already in front of you, looking at you with those fucking ocean eyes. Fireworks exploding in an extraordinary glow right behind him.
“You’re so pretty.” He breathed out, as if the words had been caught in his mouth for so long, and relief washed over his body when he finally released them.
You looked away, shaking your head as you curled your toes into the rough sand below you. You were barely touching the bottom, still having to halfway keep yourself afloat.
“You’re drunk, Con.” You said, looking down at the black water.
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what, Conrad?”
“Use the fact that I’m drunk to deflect. I may be drunk but I have eyes.”
You looked up from the water and sighed. “Really pretty ones.” You said, your voice faltering towards the end of your sentence, trying not to cry.
He really knew how to do it, hi and those pretty blue eyes and pillowy lips.
You were in love with Conrad Fisher.
“Why’re you crying?” He asked, wading closer to you, causing the water around your shoulders to slosh.
“You can’t what, pretty girl?” His voice was soft as a feather, and God, his lips were getting dangerously close to yours.
“I can’t love you.”
“You love me?”
“I can’t.” You cried. “I can’t just kiss you and pretend like it means nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.”
You shook your head, biting your lip.
“Y/n, I love you.”
He secured his hands on either side of your neck, just below your ears and you wanted to pull away, but you couldn’t. How could you when he’s looking at you like that?
“I still have a boyfriend, Con.”
“I don’t care.”
He inched forward just barely, but it was enough to make the butterflies in your stomach erupt, you felt like they were trying to crawl up your throat.
“I just need your lips on mine. Even if I never get them again. Please, just this once. Y/n.” He was begging. He breathed out your name at the end of the sentence like a prayer and before you could even think about it, you nodded. And as fucking cheesy as it was, the firework show finale began,
And his lips were on yours.
You could’ve cried from the feeling of Conrad’s lips on your own.
His hands traveled down to your waist, then your hips and to your thighs before he lifted you up, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist and you did, immediately tangling your fingers in his hair, not once did the two of you disconnect your lips from one another.
It was desperate and messy, but it was perfect. His hands splayed across your back and squeezed your sides, and your hips before he pulled away, not even sparing a glance up at you as he planted kisses down your throat and shoulder, and that little spot right under your ear that made you whimper.
His lips came right back to yours in one last sweet kiss before he lowered you back into the water, his eyes glued to yours.
“I love you, Y/n. Please.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but was immediately interrupted by voices coming from the house.
“Under the dock.” He said, pulling you with him as you both swam underneath the wooden surface.
He immediately brought his hand up to cover your mouth, bringing up his other hand to put a finger to his lips, signaling you to be quiet.
“Where the fuck did they go?” Jeremiah’s muffled voice sounded from above you, footsteps pacing back and forth.
“Maybe they’re finally confessing their undying love for each other.” Belly said.
“Don’t think Connor would like that too much.” Steven responded.
“Who cares, that guy’s a dick. I say, ‘dump his ass’!” Hayden joked and everyone laughed, footsteps fading down the dock, giving up on finding the two of you out here.
Once you were sure they were gone, you pulled away from him. “You dummy!”
“What? I just saved our asses.”
“We could’ve just said we decided to go for a night swim, the fact that we’re gonna show up completely soaked with no explanation is going to be way more suspicious!!”
Conrad just smiled and cocked his head as you rambled.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like you’re in love with me.”
“Would that be so bad?”
Things had been terrible since the kiss. You could barely look at Conrad or Connor. And your constant bickering with Connor started back up again, he was back to his old self. You should’ve known that sweet facade was going to fade soon. He was just jealous of Conrad, but he couldn’t keep up the act anymore.
It was nearing the end of July, and the whole group was lazing around the Fisher’s house. You all spent the whole day at the beach yesterday, and you were tuckered out, all agreeing to just chill around the house. Laurel and Susannah had been gone all day, doing God knows what (edibles on the beach), so you were able to roam the house freely.
Until Jeremiah suggested a game, which turned into a drinking game, which turned into a mini party outside with just you and your friends. It was honestly nice, some summer beach playlist was playing through the speakers, the boys set up a game of pong (you even got to beat Steven and Jeremiah’s asses in the game with Tate), and half eaten snacks littered the outdoor table.
And of course, everyone was hammered by the time the sun began to set, but all you could focus on was Conrad’s eyes lingering on you.
“Babyyyy…” Connor stumbled over to where you were standing, leaning your weight against the side of the house.
“Hi.” You said, amusement in your tone.
“Let’s go inside.” He slurred, trying to push you towards the french doors.
You looked around, everyone was still partying and having fun. It hadn’t gotten to the point where everyone was breaking off into their respective couples with locked lips yet. Jere, Belly and Tate were having a handstand contest, which Conrad, Hayden and Steven were judging, Shayla was facetiming one of her friends, no doubt gushing to them about Steven.
“Not right now, everyone’s still having fun.”
“But we could be off having more fun.”
You shook your head. “Maybe later, okay?”
“Come onnnn.” He tried to persuade you by leaving kisses down your throat and exposed chest, only barely covered by a black bikini top.
You couldn’t help but close your eyes and sigh a bit, your hand coming up to tangle your fingers in his hair, your mind playing flashes of your kiss with Conrad under the fireworks at the dock. The way his hands explored your body, the way he confessed his love for you with so much passion and emotion–
Connor immediately disconnected from you, pulling back to stare at you with wide eyes.
“The fuck did you just call me?”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Conrad? Are you fucking serious?”
“I- I’m drunk, and your names are so similar.” You panicked, trying to clean up the mess you just made but it was too late, you were pushed up against the wall with Connor’s hand around your throat. Your instinct was to try and pry his hands off of you, but he was so much stronger than you, and fighting wasn’t doing you any good.
He was squeezing hard, and you tried to use your voice to call for your brother, Conrad, Jeremiah, fucking anybody, but you couldn’t. The only sounds coming from you were strangled cries and choking.
“Hey!” You heard a voice call from the pool, and the sounds of water sloshing and panicked screams rang through the air, and suddenly Connor was ripped off of you by Tate and you gasped for air, your hands immediately flying to your throat as wet coughs erupted from your chest.
“That’s my fucking sister!” Tate roared, his fist flying through the air and hitting Connor across the face, sending him flying backwards onto the concrete. He was picked up off of the ground by Steven and Hayden only for them to push him into Jeremiah’s awaiting fist.
“Guys please-” You tried but no one was listening except for Belly and Shayla, who were trying to usher you inside.
Finally Conrad stepped in, grabbing Connor by the collar of his shirt once again as he leaned in, his voice so low and menacing it sent a chill down your spine.
“What did I say would happen if you touched her again?”
His eyes were dark, so dark that if you were looking at them for the first time, you probably wouldn’t even know they were blue, and his chest was heaving so rapidly you were worried he was gonna get dizzy.
You wanted to intervene, but you were so overwhelmed and overcome with panic you couldn’t speak as Conrad slammed your boyfriend into the ground, only to pick him back up and Slam him into the wall, his large hand around his throat, in the exact same position he had you in.
“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?” Conrad all but growled.
“I didn’t mean-”
“Shut up.” His tone was flat as he stared at him, and Belly reached for your hand. You took it and squeezed, pulling her behind you. Steven had already done the same with Shayla.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” He said, “You’re gonna go across the street with Tate or Steven or whoever the fuck else, you’re gonna pack up your shit, and you’re gonna leave. Do I make myself clear?”
“DO I make myself clear?!” He barked and you flinched. Conrad was broody and intimidating, sure, but he was gentle. This was a side of him you were sure no one else had ever seen before.
Connor nodded and Conrad let him go, turning to you. His demeanor immediately softened when his eyes met yours, and a wave of relief washed over you so forcefully you began to cry, Belly was quick to pull you into her arms, ushering you inside.
Steven assured Tate and Jermiah that he and Hayden would take Connor across the street to pack his things, and that you probably needed them more than ever now, and they’d be back soon.
“Tate I have to tell you–”
“Did you know, Con?” Tate asked slowly, almost as if he didn’t want to ask, because he didn’t want to know the answer.
“‘What did I say would happen if you ever touched her again?’” Tate quoted Conrad’s words to him, and he wanted to throw up.
“You knew that piece of shit was hurting my sister, and you didn’t fucking say anything?!”
“No, fuck you!” Tate spat. “That’s my sister, man. That’s Y/n.”
“Let him talk, T.” Jeremiah said, placing a hand on Tate’s shoulder but he jerked himself away.
“Fuck that.” He turned to storm away, opposite the direction of the house but Conrad stopped him.
“That’s your sister, Tate. Are you gonna storm off in a fit of rage or are you gonna go inside and hug your sister, who’s scared shitless?”
Tate just looked at him, eyes empty.
“I wanted to tell you. I almost did. She insisted she was going to do it herself, she didn’t want to turn it into something it didn’t need to be, alright? She just took a little longer than expected.”
Tate didn’t respond, only gave Conrad a curt nod before continuing to walk away from the house. “I just need a minute.”
Tate walked out the back and onto the beach, digging his hands in his pockets.
“Is it too soon to ask what you guys were doing during the fireworks?”
Conrad huffed out a laugh and clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“Under the deck, dickhead.”
Conrad nodded and Jeremiah threw his head back, pretending to be disgusted. “Rascals.”
The pair stopped right outside the french doors, taking in a deep breath before they entered the house. “Y/n’s a badass.” Jeremiah said, glancing at his older brother, who nodded, before putting his hand on the doorknob and pushing, allowing the two to walk into the house.
You sat at the kitchen island, Belly and Shayla both on the other side of the granite, staring at you with concerned eyes.
Jeremiah moved first, pulling out the stool next to yours and positioning his head so he was eye level with you, a small smile on his face.
“Hi.” You rasped and his smile sank.
The curly headed boy brought his hand up to wipe a fleck of dust off of your eyebrow before placing a kiss on the top of your head, and you sank into him.
“That was kinda scary, huh?” Jere asked and you nodded.
“First of all, I never want you to apologize to me again.”
“And second of all, why?”
You sighed and shrugged. “I feel like an idiot. I ruined everything. I scared you.”
Jeremiah shook his head, wrapping his arms fully around you, resting his cheek on top of your head. “You didn’t ruin anything, alright?”
You nodded and sniffled, a tear rolling down your cheek, which Jeremiah was quick to wipe.
“No tears, alright?” Even though he was blinking back his own. He kissed your head one last time before disconnecting himself to you, and gesturing his head to the stairs, signaling for the girls to follow him upstairs. He couldn’t wait to tell them about the dock.
You and Conrad were left alone, and his presence was not easy to ignore.
He slowly made his way over to the stool Jeremiah had just been in and sat down, his eyes taking over your frame and wincing.
“Can I?” He asked and you nodded. He brought his hand up to brush your hair out of the way and he whined when it revealed the angry bruise covering your neck.
“I know, baby. I know.” He said, pulling you off of the stool and picking you up bridal style so he could take you up to his room.
Neither of you missed the hushed whispers from behind Jeremiah’s closed door.
Conrad pulled back the covers and laid you down, quick to follow and pull you close to him.
“I’m really scared, Con.” You said, your voice small as you cuddled impossibly closer.
“You’re safe. I promise you are. I’m right here, okay?” He assured you, his hand cradling the back of your head and the other lightly trailing the skin of your back.
“I love you.” You said, and Conrad visibly relaxed at your confession.
“I love you more, my girl.”
Those damn ocean eyes.
Conrad smiled at you from across the bonfire and you blew a kiss back. Which he pretended to catch and put in his pocket.
Conrad Fisher. Catching a kiss and putting it in his pocket. Who would've thought?
It was mid August. The summer was coming to an end, but you still had a couple of weeks left, and you were all soaking up every last second of it.
Conrad had, of course, asked you to be his girlfriend as soon as the water settled, and of course you said yes. Tate and Conrad made up, giving each other a big bro hug, and your brother finally talked to you once he calmed down, giving you that big, comforting, big brother hug as you cried. And of course he swore to kill Connor next time he saw him. Susannah found an amazing program that had a huge success rate, and everyone was hopeful.
Your boyfriend made his way over to you, wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you into him before he planted a kiss on your lips.
“Pretty girl.” He mumbled, a tipsy smile pulling at his lips.
“My blue eyed boy.” You responded, throwing your arms around his shoulders, an open invitation for him to pick you up and spin you, that melodic laugh of yours that he just adored sang from your lips.
“We’re you callin for me that night at the party?” He asked, a teasing smile on his face.
“Not funny, Con.”
“‘Course it isn’t. Just wonderin’.” His words were slurring and he was just so beautiful.
“Yes.” You admitted, rolling your eyes.
“Knew it.” He said, peppering your face with kisses while you giggled and tangled your fingers through his hair.
He swore he’d never be happier than he was at that moment.
But they had a whole life ahead of them,
And the story of Conrad Fisher and Y/n Y/l/n had just begun.
I love a cheesy ending.
taglist: @colbysbrocks @prettysummerbaby @sortagaysortahigh @hpboysslut2707
heaven is a bedroom || c.f. x reader
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: smut (fingering, oral (f receiving), penetration), kinda angst, little bit of fluff, fwb relationship, alcohol, mentions of cancer/death, conrad fisher has abs of steel, some religious references?? figurative language
Request: being jere's best friend but also fwb! with conrad and him having to sneak you in at night? + some prompts
a/n: canon compliance is a state of mind, and it's not one i have today. did i watch the show? no. did i read the first book? yes. that's what is carrying this fic, and it is my first conrad fic so be gentle. pls lmk if i missed any warnings!!
Not for the first time in his life, Conrad thought the world must be against him. Because — like just about everything else — this was not the plan.
“You’re staring again,” Jeremiah whispered. “Murder Eyes.”
“Shut up,” he mumbled, but his eyes didn’t leave their target, watching the hand that was curled around your waist, five fingers digging into the supple skin there. They slipped under the loose fabric of your top, and the Solo cup in his hands felt the aftermath, crushing with ease. Not the plan at all.
But Jeremiah was decidedly not done yet, the alcohol in his system giving him too much confidence for Conrad’s taste. “She looks like she’s having fun.”
“Shut up,” he repeated, averting his gaze when you caught his eyes. For fuck’s sake, it was like you’d never heard of a room. The bonfire crackled in his peripheral, shooting sparks across the darkened sand under his feet. You were wrapped up in the arms of someone he didn’t know, didn’t care to know. Lips grazed your throat, and his cup suffered.
“She’s a pretty girl,” his brother continued, “you’re not the only one looking.”
Conrad turned, seeking solace in the bottom of a drink and finding none. After all, his beer had disappeared quickly when he saw you, saw him. “That’s your best friend.”
“Doesn’t matter who she is. But if you’re going to spend all night eye-fucking—”
“Nobody is eye-fucking—”
“I might as well enlighten you.” Jeremiah stood proud, as if this was him being charitable. But the grin on his face — the exact one Conrad would punch off if it were anyone else — was as clear as ever. He thought it was funny.
“Enlighten me how?” Conrad, on the other hand, was unamused.
His brother began backing away, but not without a few parting words. “It could be you.”
Conrad scoffed. He dropped the crushed plastic to the ground unceremoniously, searching for a new distraction. This was not the plan.
This was not the plan because you were supposed to be friends (hell, he’d call you acquaintances for how little he acknowledged you in public), and friends didn’t act the way the two of you did.
No, all Conrad does is fuck his brother’s best friend until she’s stupid, speechless, and shaking, and then he packs up his things and pretends it never happened. And he sure as hell doesn’t treat the rest of his friends like that.
And perhaps he could reconcile with the fact that what you shared was not friendship. Perhaps he could cope with the fact that your relationship was a pure canvas coated in shades of debauchery, where you drink and smoke and fuck because what are summers for? That he could permit.
But what he didn’t like, didn’t plan for, was the burn of jealousy that accompanied finding you doing those same things with another. You were not exclusive by any means, and he had not kept himself bound to you in any sense. The blonde making her way onto his lap could attest to that.
Still, when he looked at you, when he found you biting your lip and smiling at someone else — the same way you did to him — that smarting sensation returned full force. His chest constricted at the sight, and when eye contact was established once more, he forgot all about the touch now trailing down his chest.
He swallowed (albeit with some difficulty) as you watched, eyes flicking between him and the stranger whispering words he did not care to discern, then returning to his. He kept himself passive, face devoid of emotion, and when some feeling flickered in your features (one close to disappointment), he did not react.
You returned your attention to the man actively working to earn it. Conrad pretended nothing transpired at all.
But, even an hour later, in a bed that wasn’t his and fucking a girl he barely knew, he was still thinking about you.
It was late when you received the text, and you read it with bleary eyes.
You turned your head to watch…John? Jim? James? Regardless, the boy you followed home (despite your low expectations for the evening) was washing his face in the bathroom sink. You were tired, and you were certain Conrad was as well, judging by his own company.
(You knew he took her home. Would he be Conrad if he didn’t?)
You typed back, Not tonight, just finished.
You snorted to yourself. He wasn’t exactly wrong. Not tonight, you repeated. You couldn’t handle him tonight.
Aren’t you already…occupied?
She’s gone. Curt, simple.
You smiled. Poor thing.
And it was like he was right beside you when he responded, She wouldn’t agree. You could feel his attitude. When you didn’t respond, he said again, Come over.
Not a question. You peaked your head up to find Justin (that sounded right) on his way back. It was about time you left anyway. You stood quickly, and smiled at him kindly as you grabbed your bag.
He pushed one out, just for the sake of it, and tracked your movement toward the hallway. He opened his mouth to say something, but you were out the door before he could get a word out.
You were lucky you drove yourself. Once in the safety of your car, you checked your phone again.
Conrad waited for a response.
No, you said again.
His response was instantaneous, and you laughed to yourself. Why?
You sobered yourself. You were better than this, better than him. Aware of your hypocrisy, you answered, Because you never stay.
You didn’t get a text back.
You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it started. Maybe somewhere amongst the late-night swims and whispers of comfort, you found him. It wasn’t pretty, but it definitely wasn’t ugly.
Not when Conrad Fisher was involved.
And staying away from him, for all intents and purposes, only made you miss him more.
Two weeks. You lasted two weeks.
Honestly, all it took was a couple more lame hookups with Jason (you eventually learned) for you to break. You craved something, an emotion or a rush or even just that look on his face when Conrad finally let go, and there was only one person that could give it to you.
So, yeah, you were parked outside the Fisher’s beach house at 2 AM, your blood thrumming in your veins at the prospect of what was soon to come. The only light on in the house was Conrad’s, and you turned your car off before the headlights accidentally woke up the rest of the household.
You liked to think that you learned how to read Conrad over the years. You had spent countless summers in Cousins, and more often than not found yourself at the Fisher’s. Jeremiah was your best friend, Conrad was his brother. It was all sorts of wrong, but perhaps that’s what made it so desirable.
When he met you at the door, the first thing you noticed was his eyes. They were quieter than usual — a shade of brown so dark they were nearly black. Nearly, but not quite.
It was fitting, you supposed. Because for a man who appeared so cold — so blank — to so many, if you looked hard enough, you could always find a discrepancy.
Today’s was his forehead. It was wrinkled with the thoughts that pooled there, the current of them that tangled itself up, one knot of heartbreak and loss and deep, unending hurt. You knew he was mourning someone who hadn’t left quite yet, and you thought that that was worse than having already lost them.
He said nothing, his lips pressed together, but you detected a slight tremor in his hand when it found the small of your back. He led you up the stairs, and you followed.
The impatience was building at the bottom of your stomach, and with each step on the staircase that felt longer than usual, the clashing of emotions rose to your ribs, climbed them like rungs. Your lungs felt useless, and desire, worry, lust pressed relentlessly against your sternum.
You needed him.
You needed him okay.
His bedroom was at the end of the hall, you knew it well. Conrad didn’t have to guide you, you made your way there quickly, glancing at him as you fell onto his bed. It felt just as you remembered: the pillows like clouds that could make up heaven, for the two of you would be canonized there.
“Making yourself at home?” He questioned, locking the door behind him.
Letting your head hang off the edge of the bed, you gave him a lazy grin. You wore an old crewneck and some sleep shorts, but the way he was looking at you made it feel like the most opulent lingerie. “Don’t be mean.”
He was upside-down in your eyes, and you knew you broke through some of his walls when he crouched to be level with you. “But I thought you liked it?”
You rolled your eyes. “Prick.”
His voice lowered, conscious of how close you were to the rest of the household. “That’s no way to address a friend,” he said, faux-hurt.
A laugh loosed itself from your chest. “We’re not just friends and you know it.”
He looked ready to argue, mouth parting in the way that only promised trouble, but you moved before he could get a speak, pushing up to lay properly against the pillows instead. Conrad stood, but whatever comment he was going to make remained unsaid.
Instead, he was positioning himself over you, your body caged by his own, forearms landing on either side of your head. He smiled.
Absently, you ran your thumb over a dimple. Something in you ached.
His eyes shuddered, and you eyed the tangle of thoughts that decorated his forehead. You held back the instinct to smooth it out. He was not yours to solve.
Finally, his mouth landed on yours. You sighed at the relief, at the familiarity of the act. There was an air of control to it, something sourced from jealousy and too much sober thinking. He was rough, bruising, his teeth meeting yours by accident, then catching on your bottom lip.
A sound — something he would call pathetic — reverberated in your throat, and you could taste the satisfaction in his smile.
And yet, despite the anger and the aggression and the aching, the hands that held you in place, thumbs parentheses on your cheekbones, were as gentle as ever. Your noses never bumped, his weight was never overbearing, and he tasted like he always did.
Sea salt, cinnamon, the last dregs of beer accompanied by the lime he kept in there. The flavors never clashed, they were just him.
If there was one thing you could rely on, it was this: his edges, sharp as they were, fit perfectly against your own.
His lips formed a path to your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses, sucking when they deigned. You closed your eyes and settled against his ministrations. Real or not, you were certain this bedroom beat heaven any day.
Your back arched, nipples scratching against fabric, and Conrad swallowed your moan at the first point of contact — his thigh right between your own. Your hips twitched up, desperate for more, but he held back, not yet done with you.
Your throat was his first focus. One hand kept him propped up, while the other held your jaw. He tilted it however he pleased, permitting himself access to expanses of skin, sensitive and tender. It was as if he was playing with you — you were art, created for and by him, his medium the lips that traveled and touched and tasted.
“Conrad,” you whispered as his tongue circled your pulse point. In other circumstances, you might have been embarrassed by how fast it was racing.
He paused, eyes flicking up to yours. His pupils were all you saw, irises a thin line of afterthought, and his lips were red, swollen, betraying just how alive he felt. “Hmm?”
You carded through his hair, then pressed your own kisses: the corner of his mouth, his jawline, tracing down to a spot — one you knew well — that elicited a soft groan. “Did you bring me over to tease me,” you whispered, “or to fuck me?”
He let out a breathless laugh, then slid his fingers under the hem of your sweater, pulling it up with no further preamble. His hands grazed your sides as he did so, slow and steady, while his lips paid overdue attention to the rest of your body; he traced the tops of your hips, your stomach, greeted each rib as they revealed themselves to him. He tsked, “Impatience isn’t a good look on you.”
“And jealousy isn’t a good look on you.”
His teeth glinted in the moonlight, and digits unclasped your bra with practiced ease. “What do I have to be jealous of, sweetheart? You can fuck whoever you like.”
You hummed thoughtfully, relishing the tongue that circled the peak of your breast. “You say that, and then you give me Murder Eyes all night.”
Conrad nipped lightly, then soothed the hurt with a kiss. He finally divested you of the fabric, unceremoniously throwing it to the corner of the room. “You can hardly blame me.” He pinched your other nipple, and you squirmed. “I didn’t like that guy.”
“You don’t like any guys, Con.”
He elected to ignore that observation.
After all, with your legs pressed together, seeking friction, and those sounds coming out of your mouth, he had other priorities. Priorities he quickly fulfilled, dragging down your cotton shorts and letting them join their predecessor in a place that felt miles away from this haven you’d found.
Your breathing picked up, courtesy of the lips that moved from one hip bone to the other, then down. Lower. Shudders were left in his wake, and you had just enough sense left to have your fingers stay tangled in his hair, the locks curled and soft from saltwater.
His thumb brushed over the scrap of lace you called panties, and you jumped at the sensation, still needing more. Conrad took his time though, learning your anatomy and the sounds it could create when given the right sort of attention.
His lips were next, taking their course, sloppy kisses in all the right places, but the damned fabric preventing him from much more. The thing was soaked, for fuck’s sake, not doing much for concealment, but you wanted it — like every other fathomable barrier — gone.
“If we get caught,” you whispered with no small amount of difficulty, “I’m killing you.”
He didn’t move from his perch, but his eyes met yours, and you almost came from the sight alone. “You ought to stay quiet then,” he murmured, and backed away just to get the panties (ones you picked out specifically for tonight, damn him) down your legs and thrown to the side, that easily forgotten.
With half a mind, you tugged on the sleeves of his own shirt, and he obliged you, losing the old t-shirt and giving you no time to take in the view, much to your chagrin. For he was already wrapping two biceps (large ones, you had to note) around your thighs and pinning your hips down.
He started carefully, gentle presses to the surrounding area, kitten licks that made your fingers tighten their hold. He moaned, and you could have laughed. Who knew Conrad Fisher liked his hair pulled?
The tone shifted. What once was delicate could no longer be called such; he licked a broad stripe, not caring for the subtleties when his objective was nothing so pure. But if nothing else, he had a sense of duty, and that was what dictated his next moves.
His tongue massaged your clit for a moment as he relearned (he was always relearning, looking for details he might have once missed) what made you tick. And when one palm left his hair in hopes of muffling your noises in lieu, you knew he was pleased.
He closed his lips around the bud and hollowed his checks, and your teeth dug into the back of your hand, hips bucking up. Your attempt to close your legs was pitiful at best — Conrad was keeping you open for him without issue.
“Fuck,” escaped your attempt at stifling yourself, and the vibrations that followed from his chuckle had a coil tightening in the bottom of your stomach.
He was vibrant like this, painting you in pleasure until you were the picture of euphoria. Those colors were bursting across your closed eyes, a reminder that Conrad could be quite the artist when he wanted to.
Two digits circled your entrance, then slid in to the third knuckle easily. His free forearm draped across your hips, and he broke just to whisper, “You taste divine.”
Before you could manage a retort (if you were even capable), he was working you with just as much fervor. Your hips rolled as he discovered nerves and their endings, setting them alight until your entire nervous system was compromised of him and his eyes and his tongue and his fingers when they curled and found the spot that made you see stars.
He would be the death of you. That was for certain.
It was somewhere between the teeth nipping at your clit and his fingers pumping and curling at a renewed pace that your orgasm hit you. It consumed you, set you on fire and made you believe in everything holy because God, there was nothing mundane about this.
It was hard and blinding and there was his tongue lapping up the fruit of his labors like it was so sweet. Your legs were shaking, and the tremors had crawled up to encase your whole body in such ecstasy. It was like release and shooting up at the same time.
You opened your eyes, and Conrad was looking at you like you belonged in a museum.
He straightened, but didn’t bother to school his face, giving you all his truth. Sweatpants hung low on his hips, his arousal evident, and you reached for him without a second thought.
He only paused to remove the rest of his clothes and find a condom in the drawer of his nightstand, and then he was propped over you once more.
“Could you be any louder?” he joked.
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re one to talk — I recall quite a bit of noise from you a few weeks ago.”
Conrad loved a good blowjob and you knew it. And you were sure a few members of that house party knew it too. Thin walls and whatnot.
He grinned, and you swore your ribs reorganized themselves just to make room for that specific smile right beside your heart. His forehead was blissfully clear of misshapen thread.
Still, a part of you ached when he entered you. This place you were in, tangible or not, would not last much longer. By the time you were done, you’d be leaving on shaking legs and he would leave the porchlight on just long enough for you to reach your car. No goodbye’s, no I’ll see you tomorrow’s, nothing that said that the oxygen shared between the two of you at night would be the same one shared in the morning. All you could count on was that it wasn’t him. Not when others were involved.
“Get out of your head,” he murmured, voice low. “Feel me.”
And you did. Every inch and the slight curve that you fit you perfectly. You followed his instruction, letting the sensations engulf the sting of overstimulation until mind-numbing pleasure was all you were left with.
That, and the groans that accompanied your own. Quiet curses reminded you of where you were, who you were with, and you hooked your legs around his waist, bringing him deeper.
Your nails left scratches down his back, ones you knew he loved, and when his thumb circled your clit, you had to turn your head into the nearest pillow. It was too much.
Conrad paused, and your breath stuttered. You rolled your hips, desperate to reach the climax that was steadily building.
“Let me see your face,” he said, forceful enough that you listened. “I want to see you.”
“Please,” was all you could manage.
His tempo resumed, increasing, and you thanked every deity you could think of for quiet bed frames. You were feeling him, all of him — his hips stuttering, his breath quickening, the sinful slap of skin.
Your nails carved into his scapulae, the vertebra of his spine, the muscles formed through hours of dedication. He was massive, but you knew you had control. Even if only when shrouded in shadow and under the cover of darkness, he would bend to you.
“I’m going to cum,” you whispered, his thumb the final piece. Your thoughts disappeared as he took care of you, brought you to the edge and let you break over it.
You felt his eyes watching, taking you in, and he fucked you through your orgasm, incurring wave upon wave until you were numb, blissed out.
Your name was on his lips when he finished, a strong few thrusts followed by his own trembling muscles revealing it all. You could drink in that sound for eternity, you thought. You could sip it like wine and gorge yourself on it like it was all you needed to survive.
For the seconds after, you kept your lids closed, unseeing. So, you were entirely surprised to find soft kisses being pressed to your neck, your cheek, your temple. Even after he pulled out, his lips remained to savor something you thought didn’t exist.
They were indolent, not at all like his earlier markings. This was him taking his time, appreciating you, worshipping you. He was kneeling at the altar, and you were his goddess. Without words, without articulation, but clear enough.
Your breathing was heavy, but you were cautious. Things seldom lasted this long, and you didn’t move in fear of the moment ending. This was a different sort of vulnerability, one that had never before existed between the two of you.
“Conrad?” You said, testing the waters.
“Yes?” He met your eyes, and the knot was back.
Without thinking, you ran your thumb between his brows. It disappeared, if only for a few minutes. That was enough. “Are you alright?”
You both knew the answer, the circumstances of his situation. Alright was a far cry from anything he could be. “I don’t know.”
The two of you needed to clean up, to wash yourselves of the transpired events, but you couldn’t help but hold onto this period of peace. “What do you need?”
He sat up, and pulled you with him. He didn’t answer the question, not as you wished, but this was Conrad, and you had a gift at reading between his lines. “Do you want to watch a movie?” he asked, his voice wrong. Different.
You smiled at him. “Yeah—Yeah, that sounds great.”
Something in him — hiding in his set shoulders, his clenched jaw, his shaking hand — relaxed. Utter relief. He presented you with another smile, and you thought you might start a collection.
He helped you stand on weak legs, a bit of cockiness returning at the sight, but he kept his mouth shut, opting to lead you to the adjoining bathroom instead. The mirror revealed the disheveled states of you both, remnants of things — people — that would never get old.
He met your eyes, and you made your only stipulation. “I’m picking though.”
He shook his head, but accepted. The two of you wouldn’t be able to agree on a movie if you tried. “Only if I choose next time.”
The words warmed something in you, something that told you this was not just an excuse to go another round. This wasn’t a tease, or pity, or any other motive disguised as affection. No, this was something akin to staying.