21+ | Also @adoringanakin I read instead of sleeping because I’m an insomniac with an utter lack of self-control <3 Making sure authors are getting the love and attention they and their works deserve!!
This alas is not a masterlist of some kind as I do not know how to do the whole link thingy 😔
To find all the fics I’ve reblogged featuring specific characters (and/or fandoms), simply search for their name on my blog :D
‼️IT IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY TO READ THE WARNINGS AUTHORS PROVIDE AT THE TOP OF THEIR POST, PRIOR TO READING THEIR STORIES‼️
‼️MOST OF THE FICS REPOSTED ARE NSFW AND STRICTLY 18+!!! -> MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT‼️
PS: I gravitate more towards long-ish/very lengthy fics (with a few exceptions, of course!) -> Generally, the word count for reblogged one-shots is from 2k to 20k+ & reblogged series is 100k+
Names in italics indicate that I've reposted a minimum of one story about them
- The Last of Us: Joel Miller (HBO and Game version) and Ellie Williams (Game version)
- Marvel Cinematic Universe: James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, Robert ‘Bob’ Reynolds, Reed Richards, Johnny Storm, Peter ‘Spider-Man’ Parker (Andrew, Tom, and PS4/5 version), Matt ‘Daredevil’ Murdock, and other miscellaneous characters that I rarely read about (including: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Loki Laufeyson, Logan Howlett, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanov, Yelena Belova)
- DC Universe: Dick ‘Nightwing’ Grayson, Clark ‘Superman’ Kent, Adrian ‘Vigilante’ Chase and Bruce ‘Batman’ Wayne
- Star Wars: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin), Anakin Skywalker, and on rare occasions Obi-Wan Kenobi
- Red Dead Redemption 2: Arthur Morgan and John Marston
- Bridgerton: Anthony Bridgerton and Benedict Bridgerton
- Harry Potter: James Potter, Sirius Black, and Regulus Black
- The Boys Universe: Soldier Boy, Billy Butcher, and Jordan Li (both male and female version cause godDAMN)
- Other Miscellaneous Characters (only if I’m majorly hyperfixating): Paul Atreides (Dune 1 & 2), Harry Castillo (The Materialists), Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds), Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, Bob Floyd, and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin (Top Gun: Maverick), Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto (The Bear), Rhett Abbott (Outer Range), Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester (NEVER WINCEST CAUSE WTF) (Supernatural), Steve Harrington and Billy Hargrove (Stranger Things), Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer), Javier Peña (Narcos), Conrad Fisher (want to emphasize JUST Conrad, NOT Jeremiah) (The Summer I Turned Pretty), Scott Miller (Twisters 2024), etc… most likely will add others later
Are you now or have you ever been masterlist Amnesia, grief, post-Gadreel Sam, set in season 9, some reader x Gadreel. 12 chapters. Finished.
Blackbird masterlist Historical Western AU with madam!reader x outlaw!Sam, plus a whole gang of misfits, heavy on the found family. 18 chapters. Finished.
I thought there weren’t anymore amazing and long Sam series out there, like I read all of them, but HOLY SHIT?????????????????? I cannot begin to express how happy I am that I found @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth!!!!!
Deadass I spent this entire morning reading the first series (check previous post) and thought to myself, “this can’t get any better.” AND I WAS PROVEN WRONG BECAUSE OMG BLACKBIRD?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!?
As both a Red Dead Redemption and Sam girlie, this fic is such a beautiful masterpiece. The concept and storyline are so compelling, and the writing is amazing (like the dialogue is literally so authentic and you can tell that it was written with a different century in mind which is something a literature student like me appreciates so fucking much)
Since I have a lot of memes that I barely use in my camera roll, I’ve decided to include some that accurate represent my thoughts while reading Blackbird 🫶
My two Sam series are some of my favorite things I've ever written (also, can we talk about the fact that as a self-identified Sam girl I've only written two Sam series and four with Dean? need to remedy that ASAP 😄). So yeah, this moved me BIG TIME. Thank you so so so much! ❤️
And for those interested in Blackbird, I've just finished two more companion fics, one for Benny, and one for an amazing little filly named Baby...🐎
Now you’re back among the living, granted a second chance by the fallen angel Gadreel.
But there’s one problem: you have no memory of who you are, what happened… or who Sam is.
Prologue - On the night it happens
Chapter 1 - The Angel
Chapter 2 - Kilgore
Chapter 3 - Leaving
Chapter 4 - The Wall
Chapter 5 - Memories
Chapter 6 - Scars
Chapter 7 - The Stranger
Chapter 8 - Lessons in Storytelling
Chapter 9 - Fight or Flight
Chapter 10 - Re-orientation
Chapter 11 - Days and Days
Epilogue
CWs Sam Winchester x reader, Gadreel x reader, angst, romance, memory loss, implied/referenced violence, grief & depression, canon divergent, set in season 9
I can’t even begin to express the amount of gratitude I have for you and all the other wonderful writers on this platform (and all the other platforms as well)!
Are you now or have you ever been masterlist Amnesia, grief, post-Gadreel Sam, set in season 9, some reader x Gadreel. 12 chapters. Finished.
Blackbird masterlist Historical Western AU with madam!reader x outlaw!Sam, plus a whole gang of misfits, heavy on the found family. 18 chapters. Finished.
I thought there weren’t anymore amazing and long Sam series out there, like I read all of them, but HOLY SHIT?????????????????? I cannot begin to express how happy I am that I found @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth!!!!!
Deadass I spent this entire morning reading the first series (check previous post) and thought to myself, “this can’t get any better.” AND I WAS PROVEN WRONG BECAUSE OMG BLACKBIRD?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!?
As both a Red Dead Redemption and Sam girlie, this fic is such a beautiful masterpiece. The concept and storyline are so compelling, and the writing is amazing (like the dialogue is literally so authentic and you can tell that it was written with a different century in mind which is something a literature student like me appreciates so fucking much)
Since I have a lot of memes that I barely use in my camera roll, I’ve decided to include some that accurate represent my thoughts while reading Blackbird 🫶
Now you’re back among the living, granted a second chance by the fallen angel Gadreel.
But there’s one problem: you have no memory of who you are, what happened… or who Sam is.
Prologue - On the night it happens
Chapter 1 - The Angel
Chapter 2 - Kilgore
Chapter 3 - Leaving
Chapter 4 - The Wall
Chapter 5 - Memories
Chapter 6 - Scars
Chapter 7 - The Stranger
Chapter 8 - Lessons in Storytelling
Chapter 9 - Fight or Flight
Chapter 10 - Re-orientation
Chapter 11 - Days and Days
Epilogue
CWs Sam Winchester x reader, Gadreel x reader, angst, romance, memory loss, implied/referenced violence, grief & depression, canon divergent, set in season 9
-> when you agree to go to javi's holiday/company launch party, you don't expect to end up in bed with his cofounder, the most aggravating man you think you've ever met.
☆ on call — mr argumentative pt2 (🌶️):
-> you realise detaching from scott while pregnant is gonna be a little harder than you think
☆ indecent proposal (🌶️ ):
-> scott comes over one day with an interesting proposition
☆ just friends? (🧸, 💌):
-> scott gets a little offended when you refer to him as "just a friend" after running into some of your friends on a family day out.
☆ perfect little valentine (🧸) :
-> scott takes your daughter out for valentine's day
☆ big green monster (🧸, 💌):
-> Scott finds himself consumed with jealousy when Lacey lets slip that she heard you talking to a mysterious guy
☆ special prize (🌶️):
-> when your five-year-old daughter asks for a sibling as a reward for her good behaviour, Scott wastes no time in making sure she gets what she wants
☆ you've got mail! (🧸):
-> Scott takes you and your daughter out to his parents' cabin for her winter break.
🏷️ if you'd like to be added to my scott miller taglist please go this post 🩷
Hi, I wrote Days Are Gone a few months ago and just saw your nice note. Thank you so much! I put a lot of effort into that and it's heartwarming to see people still engaging with it!
Thank YOU for writing this masterpiece!!! You can tell just how much effort, time, and dedication was put into this story (even the actors you picked for your OCs were SO FUCKING ACCURATE)
Genuinely, one of the things that made the story so enthralling was the fact that it was completely different from other Conrad fics I’ve read, with it being set in a different place with a whole new group of characters (that are extremely well written)!!
Conrad Fisher x Summer Roommate!Reader
Rating: M
Summary: After nearly ruining his brother's wedding last year, Conrad decides he's going to spend the summer at a different beach house with a group of 20-somethings he met at Stanford. That's how he meets Y/N.
Word count: 25K! -- YUPPP. Buckle up.
Warnings: Smut, drinking, cursing. Smut includes missionary style and oral (F receiving). Also mentions of a character death and cheating. There are also a bunch of OCs in this story, because I wanted to truly give Conrad a fresh start.
Author's note: All of the events, up until about episode 8 continue as normal in this story. Though, Jeremiah and Belly end up still going through with the wedding, and that's where we split from the canon.
I cannot believe this is finally out and done. I've had this story in the back burner for a few weeks now, and I've been sporadically coming back to it while working on my other fics. I'm so happy it's out in the world now.
If it helps you lean into the story, here's how I imagined some of the OCs:
- Emory Goldman looks like Mason Gooding
- Hale Barlow looks like Tariq Withers
- Lexi Martin looks like Olivia DeJonge
- Theodore (Teddy) Patton looks like Jack Mulhern
- Margot Rodriguez looks like Paulina Chávez
- Tess Todd looks like Savannah Lee Smith
- Anastasia (Stassi) Fitzgerald looks like Hannah Kepple
Enjoy!!!
When Conrad first spotted her, he was immediately mesmerized by the bright look in her eyes as she weaved her way through the crowd. A cover band had been playing “She’s a Rainbow” by The Rolling Stones as she wrapped one of his friends in a bear hug.
“Y/N!” Emory exclaimed. “Took you long enough dude!”
She was beaming as Emory started to introduce her to others in the group that Conrad had showed up at the bar with. And that’s when it clicked – she was the last person who would be joining their house for the summer.
A few months ago, Emory had approached him with a pitch. He wanted to get a group together to rent a house for a few weeks in North Carolina.
Conrad was skeptical at first. He’d only ever spent his summers in Cousins Beach, much further up the East Coast. But Emory, who was from D.C., insisted it would be worth it. He explained that the group would be mostly fellow Stanford graduate students and some of his friends from high school – nine people total. The more he explained, the more it sounded compelling.
Conrad was in desperate need of a reprieve. He wasn’t sure if he had the courage to go back to Cousins Beach and see his family, after all the events from last summer – the wedding, Jeremiah saying he never wanted to see Conrad again, and so much more. Agnes said the summer could work as a fresh start for him in some ways. It’d be a chance to get out of his head and get out of the tunnel vision all those summers at Cousins Beach had given him, she said. It was enough to convince Conrad.
So he packed his bags and flew home to Boston to pick up his car. He picked up one of his summer roommates, Teddy, and they took off at 5 a.m. to drive along the shore. They finally arrived around dinner time, and even though they were both exhausted, Emory persuaded everyone into kicking off their summer by getting drinks at a nearby dive bar. Only eight had left.
Y/N must have been the ninth.
It was Conrad’s turn to meet her. Emory had been nudging Y/N along from friend to friend. He clapped Conrad on the back and bellowed, “And this is the golden child of our group. Really the prodigy of our class. Conrad Fisher.” Conrad chuckled, shaking his head.
“I’m not the golden child,” he said, reaching out his hand to shake Y/N’s. She surprised him by leaning in and giving him a hug instead.
“My name is Y/N,” she said, leaning close to him to speak. “I know Emory from undergrad at Stanford.”
“Oh, I go there now for graduate school. I mean, I went for undergrad for a bit too.” He was mentally kicking himself for stumbling over his words like this. It was like his tongue was tied. He had never been great at flirting. “What do you do now?”
“Well, normally I work in an art gallery, but I’m going to go to graduate school this upcoming year,” she explained. Conrad was getting goosebumps from her proximity.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“I said where are you going for grad school?” He spoke louder this time. It was hard for them to hear each other over the live guitar and drums.
“Oh! Brown.”
“ I used to go there too. I transferred from there,” he yelled.
“No way! You’ll have to tell me about it.” She squeezed his arm gently. “I’m going to get a drink. But it’s nice to meet you.”
She practically pranced as she weaved her way through the crowd again and headed to the main bar. Conrad watched, even noticing other men’s eyes briefly flicking toward her. She was like a burst of sunshine in the dark bar.
Conrad already knew he was fucked.
***
When they got home at around 2 a.m., most of the group had been stumbling, but despite that, Emory still somehow had energy. He connected his phone to a speaker and started playing a remix of “Pursuit of Happiness,” slurring as he said, “C’mon guys. It’s the first night of summer.”
Meanwhile, the housemate Conrad drove with, Teddy, looked like he was about to fall asleep any minute. He gave his girlfriend a kiss and headed over to his room, presumably to fall asleep.
This experience was entirely different from his previous summers. He was used to the occasional party, but usually, he had to sneak back in after and try to hide how drunk he was as he went up the stairs. And last summer, he was so occupied trying to take care of everyone that he didn’t have the time to let loose.
And plus, most of his housemates were girls. That, already, was a huge shift.
As Emory recruited others to dance with him in the living room, Conrad headed into the kitchen to get a snack. He wasn’t sure if he had any more energy left over. The group had ordered pizzas for the first day and there were still several slices in the fridge. He had just started eating a cold slice of pepperoni when Y/N walked over.
“Ooh, need that,” she said, pointing to his pizza. “Where?” Conrad wordlessly lifted open the box he had sitting on the kitchen’s island and Y/N also started digging in.
“Okay, Conrad, so do you know the lay of the land here? What’s the room situation? Like where am I supposed to put my stuff. I think Emory is too drunk to know what to do.” Conrad swallowed his bite of pizza quickly.
“Shit, yeah, so I think we all started claiming rooms. So, Lexi and Margot – the two girls who go to Stanford with us – offered to share a room. They’re upstairs. Teddy and Tess claimed the master suite downstairs to share, since they’re dating. There’s two other rooms on the first floor, but those are taken by Emory and Hale. I took a room upstairs, but I didn’t know if Stassi claimed one of the last two up there yet. I think both of them have a connecting bathroom though, so I hope that’s not a problem for you. I guess the bonus is that you’re on the balcony. I can show you the rooms … if you want.”
She nodded her head. “Oh yeah, I need help carrying my bags too. Is that a problem?”
“No, no. I can do that. Just show me which ones.”
When they had finished their slices, Y/N pointed to two suitcases. She tried grabbing one of them to help carry, but Conrad insisted on lugging both bags up. He wheeled them over to one of the doorways of a remaining empty room. “Hopefully Stassi hasn’t claimed one yet, and if she has, it’s not this one,” he said, as he gently nudged the door open with his foot.
Y/N wrinkled her nose. “Which one is Stassi again?”
“She is the one who went to high school near Emory. The super tall blonde.” He flicked on the lights. “Looks like this one is open, if you want it.”
Y/N flung herself onto the mattress. She spread her limbs out to make a “X” shape. “Oh yeah, this is the one.” Conrad laughed, as she then sat up. “You think you’re going to be okay up here? Being the only man among a whole army of girls?”
“I don’t mind it. I used to do a summer share house with my friend Belly. Honestly, it might be easier this time since I used to have to share a bathroom with her and that caused the most fights, but I have my own bathroom in my room. Besides, I don’t really know a lot of the people here, so it doesn’t really make any difference to me.”
Y/N cocked her head. “Really? Who do you know?”
“I know Emory. My friend Agnes introduced us. And I know Teddy because we’re in the same program, but that’s pretty much it. I don’t know a lot of the Stanford people Emory hangs out with, so I haven’t really met Lexi or Margot. I’ve only met Teddy’s girlfriend Tess a handful of times. And no idea who Emory’s high school friends are.”
She sighed. “Well that makes me feel better. I thought it was just me who didn’t really know anyone.”
“How did you get pulled into this?”
“Oh, Emory and I went on a beach trip together my sophomore year of college. And we already said we’d run it back, but just never got to it. Well, until this year, obviously. He texted me and it just was the perfect time in my life. What about you?”
Conrad shrugged. “He kinda just pulled me aside randomly one day at school and asked me. I was a little unsure at first, but then he gave me the full pitch. Literally had a Powerpoint that outlined the costs and everything.”
She laughed again. “Sounds just like Emory. We always made him the ‘CEO-’” she made air quotes with her hands, “of our trips. Even though for half of it he’s drunk.”
Almost as if on cue, there was a series of hooping downstairs as the bass of a song dropped. Conrad heard Emory yell, “Oh HELL yeah Hale.”
Y/N grinned up at Conrad. “We’ll see if we get any sleep this summer.”
***
On the first night, Conrad didn’t. He was busy tossing and turning, trying to get adjusted to sleeping in a new place. While he was awake, he thought of the girl just right down the hall from him and the way she glided through the bar. If he hadn’t known the song playing was a Rolling Stones song written years ago, he would have thought it was made just for her.
She shoots colors all around like a sunsight going down. Have you seen a lady fairer?
Conrad didn’t think he had.
***
After achieving a few hours of sleep, Conrad got out of bed at 8 a.m. to go for a jog. He ran along the shoreline in their neighborhood and stopped to take some photos of the beach to send to Agnes. After a five mile run, he headed back to the house.
Teddy was the only other person up, and it seemed like he had just gotten back from a workout of his own. He dapped Conrad as he walked into the kitchen.
“Hey man, I was going to get started on some breakfast. You in?” Teddy asked.
“Sure man.”
Conrad started cooking some bacon while Teddy focused on making a batch of eggs. As they were cooking, Teddy and Conrad talked about how they rested during their first night in the house and their workouts that morning.
Teddy was just a nickname; his full name was Theodore Patton. Conrad met him a few years ago during undergrad, since they were both pre-med students at Stanford. They quickly got along, since they were both reserved and grew up along the East Coast. Conrad later learned his mom was a cancer survivor, and they both talked about their experiences as kids watching their mothers fight a disease.
Conrad was always struck by how Teddy moved with integrity, and it was that trait that solidified their friendship. Teddy had met his girlfriend, Tess Todd, during their junior year at Stanford, and he’d sworn then and there that was the girl he was going to marry. It took him a few months of shyly approaching her for him to finally confess his feelings, and now, they were one of the most secure couples Conrad knew.
He liked that about Teddy — that he was willing to be so vulnerable. Compared to some of the other friends he met at Stanford, Teddy was one of his favorites.
They were nearly done cooking, but no one else in the house had woken up yet. Teddy had popped some biscuits in the oven. As the two of them leaned against the countertops, Teddy asked, “So, anyone caught your eye yet?”
Yes.
“I don’t know. Feels a bit too early to tell,” Conrad answered. “All the girls are nice though.”
“Yeah? Have you really gotten to talk to any of them yet?” Conrad shrugged.
“I talked to Y/N a little yesterday when we came in. She was cool.”
“Ah man yeah, I only met her a handful of times during undergrad. She’s always been nice though. Anyone else?”
Conrad shook his head. “Nah, I met the other girls but I haven’t really talked to them much.”
“I know Lexi and Margot a little. I know Margot a bit better, but they’re both cool. Pretty much glued at the hip though. I don’t know Stassi at all, but she seems nice.”
Right then, Tess wandered in the kitchen, clad in shorts and a big t-shirt. She yawned as she walked in, then greeted, “Good morning guys.” She gave Teddy a hug and a kiss. “Who else is up?”
“I think just us,” Teddy answered. They then heard a, “Oh FUCK!” and glanced at each other. “I guess not just us.”
Emory came barreling out of his room toward the front door. The three watched as he swung the door open and came out with a bag full of Taco Bell. He promptly threw it in the trash. “Morning fellas. Sorry, I drunkenly ordered Taco Bell and fell asleep before I picked it up. Oh shit, are you guys cooking bacon?”
Emory’s outburst seemed to awaken the whole house. Hale trickled out of his room shortly after. And then, Y/N came in. She’d apparently been awake and doing yoga on the balcony connected to her room. She was glowing in the same way she did at the dive bar.
“Wow guys, it smells so good in here,” she said as she walked in. She walked over to Emory and gave him a hug immediately. Conrad felt his heart tug at the sight.
Once Lexi and Margot joined, the group decided to eat breakfast outside together. Conrad was seated right across from Y/N. He was trying not to keep looking at her the whole time.
“So, what’s our vibe for today?” Emory asked the group. “Because I’m just saying, it might not be a bad idea for a beach day. The weather is looking great. We can toss a football around, maybe some beach volleyball, or something else.”
“Emory, I’m just amazed you’re not hungover right now,” Tess said, as she passed down a plate of bacon.
“Oh this guy is a tank,” Hale said, high-fiving Emory. “In our Georgetown Prep days I would see him shotgun several beers in a row like it was no problem.” Conrad noticed Lexi scrunched up her nose and Stassi was grinning as she rolled her eyes.
“He wasn’t a tank when he threw up at prom,” Stassi joked.
Emory pointed at her. “Hey, we agreed as a group never to talk about that again!” Hale and Stassi laughed. Conrad just smiled.
“I think the beach sounds awesome today, for what it’s worth,” Y/N said. “I want to take a dip in the ocean.”
“I’m down for the beach,” Conrad added.
Emory grinned. “Okay, that’s three for the beach. Any other thoughts?”
It didn’t take much convincing for everyone to agree.
When Conrad was done eating, he offered to collect some of the group’s plates and some of the bigger dishes to ease the clean up process. His years of working as a server and busboy were taking over. As he was washing some of the dishes, he heard Y/N’s voice right behind him.
“You know, I’ve noticed you’re a big act of service guy,” she said as she walked up to his side. “Want any help?”
Conrad looked over at her and shook his head. “It’s okay.”
“Aw, c’mon, I know you’re saying that to be polite. What can I do?”
Conrad hesitated. “Want to dry some of the dishes?”
And that started the system. He washed, she dried.
“So, you want to talk more about Brown – now that we’re not in a crowded bar and I can actually hear you?” she asked.
He chuckled. “There’s not much to say for me. I was there for a year or so, before I transferred to Stanford for the rest of undergrad. But I liked it. The campus was great and easy to get around. I was only an hour from home, so that was nice for me at the time.” He passed her a plate. “I wish I could give you more, but honestly, I kind of had a lot going on at the time so I feel like I wasn’t really present when I was there.”
She cocked her head as she dried the plate. “What do you mean?”
“Well, my mom had a cancer recurrence, so she wasn’t really doing well throughout that year.”
Y/N frowned. “Yeah, I’m sure that was really hard. I don’t blame you. How is she doing now?”
Conrad hesitated for a second. It was always hard to figure out how to bring this up to someone. For one, he didn’t want to hear the pity that was associated with it and deal with the awkwardness of having to give the assurances of no, I’m okay, it’s been a while. But grief was a nonlinear feeling. There were spurts where he very much wasn’t okay, and it felt like it completely consumed his day. He’d have these moments where he’d start just thinking of his mom and tearing up. Objectively, he’d been doing much better than previous years. Therapy taught him some self-regulation tactics. But there was no concise way to describe all those feelings to someone you just met – much less, someone you wanted to like you.
“Well, she passed away later that year so,” Conrad finally said. It was quiet for a minute. He knew Y/N was watching him carefully. She reached her hand up to touch his arm, but she didn’t say the typical I’m sorry to hear that or anything else. He looked over at her, and her eyes were focused on him. “She’s still with me all the time, though. I see her in everything, so it’s not like she’s really gone.”
“I understand,” she said. “Well, I’m proud of you for making that leap to Stanford after. I know I just met you, but I’m sure that must have been a big move.”
Conrad had just finished washing the last dish. He turned around to lean against the counter as he passed it to her. “Well, thanks, Y/N. That’s nice of you to say. I know you’ll have a great time at Brown. Providence is awesome. And I’m from Boston, so if you ever need someone in an emergency situation or anything, I know a lot of people who can help you out.”
“You know, given the way you’ve acted in the past 24 hours, I know you mean that, so thank you,” she said. She smiled over at him. “Very chivalrous vibes going on here with you.” Conrad laughed, blushing a little.
“I don’t know about chivalrous.”
She kept smiling at him. “No, definitely chivalrous.”
***
When it was time to go to the beach, Conrad offered to drive part of the group in his Range Rover. Emory volunteered to drive the other half. He felt a tug on his heart again when he saw Y/N go into Emory’s car, but he was happy when Teddy hopped in his car again. Usually with Teddy also came Tess, and he was always relaxed being around the two of them. He was most surprised, though, when Stassi jumped into his car too. She hopped in the passenger seat, while Tess and Teddy sat in the back.
As they drove over, Tess started off the conversation. “So Stassi, tell us more about you.”
Stassi giggled. “What do you want to know?”
Tess shrugged. “Anything you think people just getting to meet you should know about you?”
“Okay, so I knew Emory and Hale when I was in high school, but we didn’t go to the same school,” Stassi said. “We met because our parents were friends. Right now my big thing has been trying to tap into having some proper R&R. I’ve just been traveling way too much, and I need to be in one place for a bit.”
“Oh, where have you been going?” Teddy asked.
“All over the globe. I travel with bands for work.”
“You might just be the most interesting person in our summer house,” Tess said. Stassi smiled. Conrad noticed her eyes glance over at him for a minute. Her gaze seemed to linger for a beat longer than usual.
“What about you Conrad? Want to tell us your story?” she asked.
Conrad felt he was 16 again, talking to the coolest girl at the party and not knowing what to say. It’s not that he was into Stassi romantically, but she was intimidating.
“There’s not much,” Conrad replied. “I’m a medical student at Stanford. That’s how I met Emory, Tess and Teddy.”
Tess and Teddy shared their own stories of how they ended up on the trip. Teddy explained that he knew Emory from being in the same fraternity in undergrad, and how he met Tess his junior year. Tess told her own perspective of how she knew some of the other girls, like Margot and Lexi. As they shared their own stories, Conrad felt Stassi’s gaze consistently flicker over at him. It made him nervous – and not in a good way.
He was relieved when the 10 minute drive was over. The other car was about eight minutes behind them, since they made a Publix run on the way to grab everyone’s sub sandwiches for lunch. Y/N was the one who was carrying the bag with everyone’s order. She was holding it up with pride, with her beach chair slung over her shoulder. When she got to their set up, she set her chair right next to Conrad’s.
“Long time no see,” she joked to him. Conrad’s heart fluttered.
“Want me to take those?” he asked, pointing to the bag. “I can get them set up in the cooler.”
“Don’t worry, I got it,” she said, as she walked over to the cooler and tucked them in over their cans of beer and soda. She grabbed two beers and handed one to Conrad as she plopped back into her chair. “You’re such a savior.”
Conrad laughed. “I am trying to be a gentleman.”
“And it’s very sweet of you.”
Each time she said something complimentary like that, Conrad felt like he was on fire. But instead of verbalizing that, he just flashed her a smile and lifted his beer can to cheers. “What are we gonna raise our cans for?”
She tilted her head in thought. “Let’s cheers to having a summer of new beginnings.” They both clinked their cans and took a long sip of their beers. “So, Conrad, what are the chances I can convince you to play a game of beach volleyball with me?”
“I could go for that, but we have to be on the same team.”
***
They played a few games of volleyball against some of their other housemates. Conrad learned quickly that the most competitive of the bunch – besides Y/N and himself – was Margot and Lexi. They played the most games against them, and it was tight each time. Margot and Lexi won one round, but Conrad and Y/N won two.
“Okay, so we have to buy you guys drinks when we go out tonight,” Margot said, after they finished their third game.
“We’re holding you to it,” Y/N replied.
Conrad wanted to put his arm around her. Over the past few hours, he felt so in sync with her – so confident that there was something there in between the two of them. It wasn’t some infatuation, but genuine chemistry. Speaking to Lexi and Margot, he said, “She makes the call on our drink of choice,” and pointed at Y/N.
The four of them walked back over to their beach chairs. But before Y/N could plop back down next to Conrad, Hale called her over to ask if she wanted to swim.
Conrad couldn’t help noticing how Hale looked at her as she ran over to the shoreline. His gaze was lingering in certain areas, with a small smirk on his face. It made Conrad clench the chair.
“Conrad,” Margot said, snapping him out of the moment. “Do you want your sub?”
Conrad shook his head. “No, I’m good. Thanks though.” He got out of his chair. “I’m going to go for a swim too for a bit, and I’ll be back.”
He ran toward where Hale, Stassi, Emory and Y/N had gone for a dip. Y/N cheered as he started treading into the ocean. He tried not to wince as the cold water hit his back.
“Hey, welcome Fisher,” Emory said, grinning as he swam toward the circle. “You know Stassi right?”
“We met, Emory,” Stassi replied. “Conrad drove me over here when you refused to give me room in your car.”
“Oh, well if you want, I’m willing to switch with you on the way back. I didn’t know you wanted to ride with Emory,” Y/N then said. Conrad’s heart lurched.
Stassi’s face seemed to drop. “Oh, no it’s okay. I was just joking.” The group all jumped as a big wave came in. In his head, Conrad was screaming. He tried to keep his face neutral.
“So what’s the plan for tonight Goldman?” Hale asked Emory.
“I think we all go out for dinner and then maybe hit another round of bars,” Emory answered.
Hale looked over at Y/N. “Would you want to do that?”
“I’m always down to go out,” Y/N replied. “What kind of bars are we thinking?”
“Maybe a round of cocktails at dinner, and then we go to some of the beach bars? What do you think? I’m going to pitch it to the group when we’re back in.” Hale and Stassi agreed. Emory looked over at Conrad.
If Conrad was being honest, he would have preferred to do something a little more laid back. They had been out for a bit last night, and the fatigue from drinking yesterday was still hitting him. But seeing the way Y/N was enthused about the plan and knowing the way that Hale had been looking at her all day, he ended up saying, “I’m in.”
***
After they got back from the beach, Conrad took a brief nap for about 30 minutes, but he woke up to a knock. He groggily opened his door and saw Margot on the other end.
“Wait, oh my god, were you sleeping? I’m so sorry,” she said. Conrad waved it off.
“It’s okay. I probably needed to get up anyway. What’s up?”
“So there’s a divide of what everyone wants to eat, so we’re thinking about splitting up for dinner. Emory wants tacos, and I personally am wanting to get seafood instead. Do you have a preference?”
He thought for a minute. He wanted to ask which restaurant Y/N was picking, but that would make his interest too obvious. “I could go for some seafood.” Margot grinned.
“Correct choice. We’re going to leave in like an hour or so, is that okay?”
“Fine with me.”
“Good, because even if it wasn’t we were going to do that anyway.” Conrad laughed. “I just had to pretend to make it seem like you had a say.”
“Who’s coming with us?”
“Lexi, Tess, and Y/N.” Conrad felt a wave of relief go through him. “Stassi, Teddy, and Hale chose to go get tacos.”
“Okay, great. Well, I’ll see you in a bit then.”
Conrad knew it would take him fifteen minutes at the most to get ready. He showered, put on a pair of khakis, a linen button down and his watch. He was about to head downstairs to wait for the group, but as he was out in the hallway, he heard Y/N call his name. He spun around. She was standing at her door frame.
“Would you mind helping me out for a second?” she asked. “I need someone to help straighten the back of my hair and the other girls are getting ready.”
“Sure.”
Her flat iron and makeup were set up in the corner of the room by her full-length mirror. She sat criss-cross in front of it and grinned at Conrad as she handed over the flat iron. He kneeled behind her. “You know what you’re doing? Need any help?”
“I’m good. I used to do this for a friend a ton. Did you put on heat protectant?”
“Yup, it’s all ready,” she said. He lifted the flat iron and started running it through the hair at the back of her hair. Conrad couldn’t help noticing how soft it was. He wanted to run his fingers through it.
He remembered some of the tricks Belly taught him, like how to curve the flat iron toward her when he got to the bottom to make sure the ends didn’t seem spiky. It only took a few minutes to fix the section of her hair.
When he was done, he set the flat iron back down and glanced up at her in the mirror. “You look great,” Conrad said.
“Really? You don’t think the eyeshadow is too much?” She was wearing a pink eyeshadow that glimmered on her eyelids. Conrad shook his head.
“No, it’s really pretty. You look really pretty.” She turned around to look at him.
“That’s so sweet of you, Conrad. Thank you. You also look pretty.”
He laughed. “Pretty?”
“Yeah, do you not like being called pretty?” He shook his head.
“No, it’s not that. I just laughed because no one has said that to me before. But I like it.” She smiled again.
“Good.”
Someone knocked on the door. The two of them glanced over at Tess, who was standing in the doorway. “Hey guys, just wanted to know if you were close to being ready? I think Lexi and Margot are almost done.”
“Oh yeah, we’re good,” Y/N said.
Tess gave a quick nod. “Okay, then I’m going to call us a car.” She gave Conrad a quick look, and he knew immediately that she had listened to part of their conversation.
He turned back over to Y/N, who was looking directly at him. “I think we should go downstairs,” she said.
“Yeah, of course,” he replied. He stood up and reached out his hand to help her up. He felt a jolt of electricity when she grabbed it, and he tried his best to act normal.
***
The five of them sat near the water at the restaurant they picked. Conrad was thrilled when Y/N sat next to him. They put in orders for bang bang shrimp and drinks. Conrad originally was going to order a beer, but the girls insisted he should join them and order an espresso martini instead.
“Conrad, I think you’re one of the girls,” Margot said after their drinks were dropped off. Tess giggled.
“Oh he’s soooo one of the girls,” Y/N chimed in. “He helped me with my hair today, and he knew how to handle the ends.” All the girls said wowwww in unison. Conrad laughed.
“I really didn’t do much,” he said.
“You’ve done more than most men would have done,” Lexi said. “Has Teddy ever helped you with your hair Tess?”
“He helped crimp my hair today actually,” Tess said, twirling one of the strands around her hair.
“I don’t know how to crimp hair,” Conrad said. “So he’s doing better than me.” The group of girls giggled.
“We’ll teach you, Conrad,” Margot said. “I actually should teach my boyfriend how to do that. It’s always so hard to do the back pieces.”
“Margot, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Y/N said. Conrad did, since Emory told him every person who was single in the house before the summer started.
Margot nodded her head. “His name is Austin. He was originally thinking about coming for the summer, but he got a job in California so he’s staying right now. But he might come up for the summer. We’ll see.”
“They’re a really cute couple,” Lexi chimed in. “I approve of him.”
“And it takes a lot for her to approve of someone,” Margot added.
“Wait, so do you have a boyfriend too Lexi? Or are you single?” Y/N asked.
“Oh, I’m single,” she answered.
“But I really want her to date Hale,” Margot said. Lexi laughed. “I think they’d be so cute together.”
Lexi shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I could see it,” Tess said.
“Have the boys said anything Conrad? About who they’re into?” Margot asked.
“I haven’t talked to Hale or Emory about it,” he answered. “I haven’t really gotten to know Hale all that well.”
“Which of the guys would you say you’re closest with that’s here?” Lexi asked.
“Probably Teddy.” He noticed Tess smile. “I don’t know if he’s gotten any intel either.” Tess shook her head.
“Yeah, they haven’t talked about it yet,” Tess said.
“Boys are so crazy. I feel like girls would have talked about this already,” Margot said.
“Speaking of which, are you looking for something this summer Conrad? Or do you have a girlfriend?” Y/N asked. She took a sip of her drink.
“Oh yeah, tell us about your dating life, Conrad,” Margot added, leaning forward.
He shook his head. “There’s not much to say. I’m not dating anyone right now, but yeah, I’d like to have a girlfriend.”
“When was the last time you were in a relationship?” Lexi asked.
Conrad hesitated and grew flustered. “Uh, maybe seven years ago.”
“Have you seen other people since that? Like on dates?” Y/N asked.
“Here and there, but med school is so busy and I don’t want to waste anyone’s time,” he said. “After my mom died, I wanted to be alone for a while. I was too depressed, and I ended up ruining things with someone I really care about. Now that’s a whole other problem, and I didn’t want to drag anyone into my mess while I was getting over that, especially because I can’t exactly avoid my ex.”
“What do you mean?” Lexi asked.
Conrad hesitated again. This was always an awkward history to talk about. It almost always ruined dates when he explained.
“After we broke up she started dating my brother, and now they’re married,” he explained. Tess choked on her drink and started coughing. Lexi’s jaw dropped. He really didn’t want to look over at Y/N’s reaction.
“Are you serious?” Margot asked. Conrad nodded his head, shrugging. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That is so fucked up. How long were you guys together?”
“Only a few months,” he said.
“And when did she start dating him?” Lexi asked.
He winced. “Like a month after we broke up.”
“I cannot believe that,” Tess said. “Who goes from someone to their brother?” Conrad again shrugged, but he was trying to avoid saying something even slightly negative about Belly. It felt good to talk about it, though. For so long, Conrad restrained his feelings, mostly out of embarrassment.
“Seriously,” Y/N added. “How did they tell you they were together?”
At this point, he already opened up the flood gates. “They didn’t exactly tell me. I was finishing a final at Brown and they were going to drive me back to Boston after. I caught them making out.” They all audibly groaned.
“God, Conrad, this is like a horror story,” Lexi said. “I feel like I need to buy you a shit ton of drinks tonight, and I already owe you one from volleyball. This is awful.”
He gave a low laugh. “Yeah, I won’t lie. It sucked.” It was nice to be able to say that out loud. He tried to stop his mind from running through the memories, like he did every time he started thinking about that period of his life. His mind would play glimpses of all the summers like a film reel. He’d always spiral after, wondering how the outcome could have been different if he was better.
He was about to start doing that, but Margot spoke and pulled him back to the present. “I need to get on whatever SSRIs you’re on,” she said.
“Seriously. And maybe whatever therapist you have too,” Lexi said.
The way they were reacting with ease — with such support — gave him the courage to glance over at Y/N. She was studying him in a way that made his cheeks feel flush. He wanted to ask her so badly, “What are you thinking right now?” But instead of either of them saying anything, she lifted her hand and gently squeezed his arm. He smiled at her, and it felt like so much was being said in that moment between the two of them.
It felt intimate in a way that Conrad hadn’t experienced in years. For so long, he convinced himself that Belly was the only girl for him because of the way they were capable of nonverbally communicating with each other. Yet somehow, this woman he had known for not even 24 hours was able to do the same thing as a girl he had known for decades.
When they finished dinner, they started walking over to the bar they were going to meet the rest of their housemates at. Y/N had been walking ahead with Margot and Lexi, but Tess hung behind to walk in step with Conrad.
“So, I noticed you seem to be vibing with Y/N,” she commented. Conrad looked over at Tess.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding her head and grinning. “Do you think you’re interested in her?”
Conrad lifted up his pinky finger. “Swear you won’t say anything.” She lifted her pinky up and hooked her finger around his. “I think she’s really cute and cool. I like her.”
“I knew it,” she said. “When I walked into her room today and you were helping her with her hair I knew something was going on. I told Teddy about it and he was like, ‘No, Conrad just said it’s so early.’” She had slightly lowered her voice to mimic Teddy’s tone, and it made Conrad laugh. “But you also looked like you were about to murder Hale at the beach today each time he was flirting with her.”
“Am I that obvious?” he asked. Tess shook her head.
“Not really. I feel like I picked up on it because I’ve known you for a while, and I’ve never seen you act this way toward a girl. You barely look at other girls when we’re at parties. Oh, and for what it’s worth, I think she’s into you too.”
He cocked his head. “What makes you say that?”
She gave him an incredulous look. “Really? No girl would willingly ask a guy to help her with her hair. She wanted to get close to you. And she keeps sitting next to you or by you every time we’re hanging out as a group. But… I could also ask her if you want?”
“You’d do that?” he asked. Tess nodded her head.
“I’m actually a pretty good wing woman. Just trust me.”
“Well, thanks, Tess.”
“Stassi is into you too, just so you know, if you’re interested in her. She told me when we were out on the first night and she was a little drunk.” Conrad hesitated, and Tess giggled. “Yeah, I didn’t think you were.”
Their group ended up in front of the bar. Emory had spotted them from inside and ran over to the window to scream, “Hell yeah! Let’s party!”
“Well Emory is definitely already drunk,” Lexi joked.
They got their IDs checked and walked inside. Emory practically tackled Conrad in a hug. “Broooo, we missed you at guys' dinner.”
“Guys dinner with Stassi?” Conrad teased. Emory waved it off.
“You know what I meant. Dude, we are going to do a shot of tequila.”
“Nope, we owe Conrad and Y/N a proper drink first,” Lexi said, cutting in. “Shots later. C’mon Conrad, we’re about to go order.” She started guiding Conrad over to the bar. As they walked over, she whispered, “You looked like you really did not want to do that shot.”
“Yeah, thank you.” They joined Margot and Y/N at the end of the bar. Margot handed him another espresso martini.
“Ladies choice,” Margot said, pointing over at Y/N. “Cheers girls.” They all lifted their drinks, clinked their glasses and sipped.
The espresso martini had almost a chocolatey taste to it. “That’s really good,” Conrad said. Stassi wandered over to their group, holding a regular martini.
“Hey guys,” she said. “Conrad, you look good. I like this button down on you.”
Conrad thanked her. Y/N piped up, “Yeah, green is your color.”
“You think so?” he asked her.
She nodded her head, smiling up at him. “Definitely.” His heart lurched.
“So you think I should wear more green?” She shrugged.
“Well I think you could look good in blue or even like a maroon. I think you could look good in anything.”
Stassi seemed to get a hint that there was something going on, because she then quietly stepped away and turned back to Emory and Hale. Lexi and Margot had gotten distracted by their own conversation, but he had barely noticed it. He was too focused on Y/N. It was hard to look away from her.
He took a step closer to her. “You look great tonight too,” he said. “You looked good yesterday too, when I saw you.”
“Yeah? You thought so?” she asked. Her lips were curling up slightly.
It had been a while since Conrad had tried to flirt. He wasn’t positive, but he thought that Y/N may have been picking up on that charge in between the two of them too. That feeling, and the conversation he just had with Tess, gave him enough courage to say, “I really did. I noticed you as soon as you walked in.” She looked at him for a second, and he felt that electric current course through his veins that he always managed to feel around her.
“I noticed you too.” His heart palpitating.
Whatever could have been said next was interrupted by Tess and Teddy, who had wandered over to the two of them. “Hey guys, we’re going to go upstairs to dance,” Teddy said. Conrad could tell by the smirk on his lips that Tess had told Teddy about their conversation already. “You guys want to come?”
Conrad looked over at Y/N. “Yeah, let’s dance,” she said.
He followed the three of them up the stairs. He could feel the heat and humidity of the dance floor once they reached the top of the staircase. There were dozens of people upstairs, grinding on each other as a song Conrad didn’t recognize played over the speakers.
“Oh my god, I love this song,” Tess exclaimed. She grabbed Teddy’s hand and started pulling him closer to the crowd, singing along, “Touch me then say you need me.”
Conrad felt an arm sling around his neck and glanced to his side. It was Emory, who had wedged himself in between him and Y/N. He was beaming, and his other arm was slung around Y/N’s shoulders. “You ready to dance bros?”
“Oh yes,” Y/N said, as Emory started pulling them toward Tess and Teddy. The rest of the group had also come upstairs. They formed a very loose circle near one of the edges of the crowd, and Emory released both Y/N and Conrad.
Y/N shimmied as she sang along. Conrad leaned over to her, “What song is this?”
“It’s Good Time by the Dare. You’ve never heard this?” she asked. She had to speak loudly so she could be heard over the music. He shook his head. “That’s crazy.”
Hale, who was wearing his sunglasses upstairs, belted the lyrics. Lexi was giggling looking at him, and he took off the sunglasses to place them on Lexi. The two started singing the song practically to each other.
As the night went on, the DJ started playing some music that Conrad knew, and Emory did manage to get Conrad to take a tequila shot. The drunker the group got, the more they started bouncing and making exaggerated moves on the dance floor. Conrad was practically folding over with laughter at how amped up Emory had become.
He hadn’t let loose like this in ages. The past 24 hours had been better than the entirety of last summer at Cousins Beach.
By the time it was 11 p.m., he realized how drunk the group was. He poured some water in as many cups as he could hold in his hands. He first walked up to Margot, who was taking a photo of something and giggling to herself. When she spotted him, she was still bright with delight. “Hale and Lexi are making out,” she said, lifting her phone to show him a photo of the two of them kissing in the corner. Conrad glanced over in the direction Margot had been taking a photo in, and spotted Lexi against a wall, as Hale kissed her. They looked like they were barely coming up for air.
“That didn’t take long at all,” Conrad said.
“Chemistry doesn’t lie baby!” Margot exclaimed.
“What are we looking at?” Emory yelled. His words were slurring a little from all the drinks. He looked at Lexi and Hale. “Oh, damn.”
“Your buddy is doing great, Emory,” Margot said, as she sipped her water.
“I feel like I’m watching softcore porn,” Stassi said, as she walked up to stand beside the three of them. Conrad realized he hadn’t seen Y/N in a minute, and glanced around the room to find her. He saw Teddy and Tess, drunkenly dancing with each other by the DJ, but there was no Y/N in sight.
“Hey, does anyone know where Y/N went?” he asked. Stassi shrugged.
Emory spun around. “She was literally- Oh. I guess not.”
Conrad passed Emory and Stassi two of the waters he had in his hands. “I’ll be back. I’m going to go look for her.” He walked over to Tess and Teddy, and asked them similarly if they knew where she went, but they shook their heads. How had anyone lost track of her?
He walked toward the bathrooms to see if she’d been in line, but she wasn’t there either. So, he decided to go back downstairs, just to check.
She was sitting at the bar, deep in a discussion with some blond guy. She was smiling as he was talking, and Conrad felt his heart wrench just like it did when she hugged Emory. He paused, uncertain if he should interrupt. He watched as she giggled at something he had said to her.
“You okay man?” He glanced over. Teddy had apparently followed him, and he now stood on Conrad’s right.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Conrad said, nodding his head.
Teddy glanced over at Y/N, and gave a short nod. “Ah, I see.” He clapped one hand on Conrad’s back. “C’mon, I’ll go up with you.” Conrad was about to protest and say it was fine, but Teddy had already started walking toward Y/N. Conrad reluctantly followed.
“Hey guys,” Teddy said, once he approached Y/N and the mystery man. “Sorry to interrupt. We just wanted to come check in on you, Y/N. Everything okay?”
She nodded her head, smiling. “Yeah, I just needed some air. It was getting hot upstairs.”
Conrad felt awkward as he stood there, saying nothing. He realized he still had a cup of water in his hand, and practically jittered as he offered it to her. “I got you some water.”
She smiled up at him. “So chivalrous.” Conrad’s heart skipped a beat.
The guy sitting next to her was staring at her, but didn’t say anything. Teddy reached out his hand toward the stranger. “What’s up man? We’re friends of Y/N’s. I’m Teddy.”
“Ryan. Y’all got a nice friend here,” he said, as he shook Teddy’s hand. His drawl was thick. Y/N giggled and Conrad felt a flash of jealousy flare up.
“Conrad,” he said, also reaching out his hand to shake Ryan’s.
“Ryan is going to introduce me to his girlfriend,” Y/N explained. “She works at a yoga studio and apparently they have some teacher openings.” Conrad felt some relief wash over him.
“Yeah, sorry if I seemed like some creep coming up to her,” Ryan said, chuckling slightly. “It’s not like that.”
“All good,” Teddy said. “Y/N, do you want to come back upstairs with us though?”
Y/N sighed. “I’m actually thinking of calling a car. I’m kinda feeling out of it and ready to go home.”
“I’ll go with you,” Conrad offered. “I’m kind of ready to head out too.” She smiled at him.
“Oh yeah, we’re going to have to say our byes soon anyway, so you have time,” Y/N replied. She turned to Ryan and gave him a hug. “It was nice meeting you.”
The three of them went back up the stairs. Lexi and Hale were now on the dance floor, and his hands were resting on her waist. Margot was now wearing Hale’s sunglasses from earlier. Tess, Stassi and Emory were also a part of the group, still dancing.
“Hey, we’re going to go,” Conrad said, already giving Emory a hug. “We’ll see you guys at home.”
“You’re acting like he’s going to war,” Stassi said, laughing.
Everyone else decided they were going to stay for a bit longer. Conrad called a car, and the app told him it’d arrive in less than four minutes. He and Y/N quickly booked it down the stairs and outside.
“So, did you have a good night?” Y/N asked, as they waited for their car.
“Yeah, you?” he replied.
She nodded her head. “It was good. I think I was exhausted since I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m so ready to go home.”
“Oh, me neither. I only got a few hours of sleep. It’s always hard for me to get adjusted to somewhere new.” The car they called had pulled up right in front of them. Conrad gestured toward it. “That’s us.”
He opened the door for her, and she slid into the car. He quickly jogged around the back to get in on the other side. She propped her head against the window, as the car started driving back home.
“Did you know Hale and Lexi kissed tonight?” Conrad asked.
“Holy shit, really?” Y/N replied, yawning as she spoke.
“Yeah, I think you might have been downstairs at that point.” He chuckled. “Margot was there taking pictures of the whole thing. There was a point where I didn't think they were breathing.” Y/N giggled.
“This is so crazy. Remember at dinner when she said she didn’t know about him?”
“I know, right?” He looked over at her, and Y/N was yawning again. Her eyes kept fluttering shut, and then snapping open. “Hey, don’t worry about staying awake. I’ll make sure you get in okay.”
She looked so precious as she nodded her head and softly said, “Thank you.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window.
By the time they got back to the house, Y/N was almost completely out. The driver asked if Conrad needed help getting her in, but he shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I got her.” He walked over to the side of the car she was sitting on and slowly opened the door. Her head hung, now that it was no longer leaning against the window. Conrad unbuckled her seatbelt, and shifted one of his arms underneath her knees, and the other around her back.
He picked her up bridal style and took her out of the car. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked up at him. “Conrad,” she said breathily. “I can- I can walk.”
“Shh, it’s okay. I got you,” he said. She wrapped one hand on his shoulder. She was still blinking rapidly, as if she was fighting to stay awake. He fumbled a little when he got to the front door and unlocked it, but somehow managed to get the key in and open it. He carried Y/N up the stairs, toward her room, and when they got inside, he gently set her on her bed. He pulled off her shoes for her, and set them by the door, while she curled up sleepily into a fetal position. “Hey, where are your makeup wipes?
“It’s in the first drawer on the right in the bathroom,” she replied. He stepped into her bathroom, grabbing one from the package and walking back over to her bed. He started removing her makeup, and she giggled.
“Thank you,” she said softly again.
“Course,” he said, as he finished removing foundation from her chin. “I’m gonna get you some water from downstairs.” She nodded her head.
By the time he brought her a cup, she’d already crawled another the covers. He set the cup on her nightstand and turned off the lights in her room. He closed her door as quietly as possible.
As he climbed into his own bed that night, he wondered what it’d be like to spend the night with Y/N – to feel her head rest on his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair.
***
Conrad slept in about 45 minutes longer than he intended to the next day. He saw a missed call from Steven. As he stood up to start getting ready for a run, he called Steven back.
“Sup Fisher,” Steven said. It was nice to hear his voice. In the past few months, they’d put in a lot of effort to fix their friendship. It took a lot of apologies on both of their ends, but now, Conrad felt like they were back to normal. It was nice to have that with someone from his summers in Cousins.
“Hey, sorry I missed you earlier,” he replied. “What’s up?”
“Eh, you know, Tay and I are packing for our move right now, so get ready for us to be West Coasters with ya soon,” Steven said. He then whispered, “But holy shit does she have a lot of clothes. I keep thinking we’re close and there’s a whole other drawer!”
Conrad laughed. “Aw man, I bet. When do you guys take off officially?”
“In two weeks, technically. We’re mostly just getting the winter stuff out of the way now.”
“Wow, it felt like just yesterday you guys found out.”
“I know, it’s happening so fast, but I’m ready to get the move done. How’s North Carolina?”
“A lot different from Cousins. There’s like, nine people here in the house, and most of them are girls. My floor is pretty much entirely only women.”
Steven let out a low whistle. “Any girl catch your eye yet?”
“Uh, there’s one girl who seems really cool, but… I don’t know. I feel like I completely forgot how to date.”
“No offense, dude, but you didn’t really know how to do it to begin with.” And the two of them laughed. “What’s her name?”
“Y/N. She’s friends with the guy who set up the trip.” Conrad ran his hand through his hair. “I think she might be into me, but I dunno. I can’t really read her.” He paused. “Wait, well, can I ask for your take on something? I told her yesterday when we were out that I noticed her immediately when I first met her, and she said she noticed me too. Do you think she was just being nice, or do you think that’s a green light?”
Steven groaned. “Dude, that’s like one of the most clear green lights ever. She’s literally telling you she’s paying attention to you.”
Conrad’s heart swelled. “You really think so?”
“Yes! Hold on, lemme ask Tay. TAY!” Conrad heard her reply back, “What?!” before Steven explained that Conrad needed girl advice.
As she picked up the phone, Taylor said, “I never thought I’d see the day Conrad Fisher was asking me for love advice. What’s going on?”
Conrad explained the same detail he told Steven, and he added a little more. He mentioned that she’d asked him to help her with her hair, and that he’d carried her to bed last night.
“Oh, she likes you,” Taylor said. “You should make a move. You should ask her on a date or something. Well, wait. Do you want this to be a fling or do you think she could be girlfriend material?”
“Girlfriend material,” Conrad replied. “I, uh, I’m bad at doing the hookup thing. Actually, it might be a bad idea, because she’s going to Brown and I’m moving back to California after all this-“
“Well, slow down a little,” she said. “You don’t have to figure that out now. Just ask her out for drinks and see where it goes from there.”
“I agree with Tay,” Steven said. “Just try it out man.”
The three of them chatted for another ten minutes or so. Steven mentioned that by the end of the summer, they wanted to come down to North Carolina to see the house Conrad was in. When they hung up, Conrad grabbed his headphones, readying himself to at least a five mile jog today.
As he stepped out, he noticed Margot’s door was wide open, and he heard giggling. One sounded distinctly like Y/N’s laugh. He approached the room, knocking lightly on the door frame to announce his presence. Sure enough, Y/N was sprawled across the end of the bed, and Margot was under the sheets.
“Hey, just wanted to say good morning,” he said.
“Conrad!” Margot exclaimed. “Come in! We’re debriefing about last night.” He walked further into the room, opting to lean against the dresser instead of plopping on the bed. (When he was a kid, Laurel taught him to avoid sitting on a bed in his day clothes, and it stuck with him.)
“What time did you guys get home?” Conrad asked.
“I got home at like maybe 3 a.m. Stassi, Emory and I went to this hot dog stand downtown after the bars,” she said. “I don’t know about everyone else. I think Tess and Teddy left 20 minutes after you two.”
Conrad raised an eyebrow. “And what about our new lovebirds, Lexi and Hale?”
Margot smirked. “No idea, they disappeared, and Lexi did not come into the room last night.”
Y/N started, “Do you think they… you know…” She raised her eyebrows, clearly alluding to them having sex.
“Oh, for sure,” Margot said. “They were all over each other last night. Wait, I literally took a photo.”
“I watched you do this,” Conrad added, laughing a little. Margot giggled again, as she pulled up her iPhone. She held up a somewhat blurry, dimly lit photo that showed Hale making out with Lexi against the wall last night. Both Conrad and Y/N cackled.
“Wait, oh my god, I heard something so crazy last night after you guys left, but it cannot leave this room,” Margot whispered. “Do you guys promise?” The two nodded their heads. “Conrad, shut the door.”
He snickered, as he walked over to the door and gently closed it. Once it was shut, Margot continued, “So when we were at the hot dog stand last night, Stassi was like, drunk drunk. And she was like, angry at Hale.”
“Wait, why?” Y/N asked.
“I guess this past winter, the two of them hooked up while they were both home, but Hale was very much like, ‘I’ve liked you my entire life, but I don’t feel ready to have something with you right now.’ And they both agreed ahead of this summer that they’d talk about it. And then yesterday, he was making out with Lexi.’”
Conrad and Y/N’s jaws both dropped.
“So, they never talked about it?” Conrad asked.
“Apparently not,” Margot replied.
“I’m so confused. I thought Stassi liked Conrad,” Y/N said, gesturing over at him. “Am I crazy?”
“No, I think she does, but I think she has more of an established history with Hale but is trying to be cool girl about it,” Margot replied. She looked over at Conrad. “Sorry Conrad.” He waved it off, and the three of them laughed.
“Wait did Emory even know any of this?” Y/N asked, but before Margot could answer, the door opened. Lexi came in, still wearing her clothes from last night and with her heels in her hands. She still had mascara on, and her hair was tousled. She smiled wryly as she walked in.
“Hey guys,” she said, giggling as she walked toward the bathroom. “Don’t mind my walk of shame.”
“Well, was it good?” Margot asked. Lexi had a smug grin on her face, and she gave a quick nod. “Love that.” Lexi giggled again and then closed the bathroom door.
Conrad stretched. “Well, I was going to go for a run, so I’ll catch you guys for breakfast?”
“Wait, where are you running?” Y/N asked.
Conrad shrugged. “Just around the area.”
“Do you care if I join?”
Conrad tried to hide how elated he was. “No, not at all.”
“Okay, wait for me, I’ll be downstairs in like, five,” she said, standing up and walking to her room.
Conrad trekked down the stairs. He spotted Emory, who was also still wearing his clothes from last night and passed out in one of the living room chairs. Conrad walked over to him and nudged him awake.
Emory woke up with a jolt, confused at his surroundings. “Oh shit, hey.” Conrad laughed. Emory blinked several times. “What time is it?”
“It’s like almost 10 a.m. dude,” Conrad replied.
Emory groaned, and then slowly stood up. “Fuck. My head hurts so much.” He stretched his limbs and started padding toward the hallway and his room. Conrad shook his head to himself.
Y/N made it downstairs at that point, a bright smile on her face. She had changed into a tank top and running shorts. “You ready?” she asked.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
After they both stepped out of the house, Y/N took the lead on deciding which direction they’d run. She pitched finishing their run near a coffee shop, so they could get some caffeine and pastries as a treat. They didn’t speak much as they jogged, but Conrad was enjoying her company as is. They both moved at a similar pace naturally; it felt like they did this together a million times already.
Y/N pitched sprinting for the last mile, and they both gunned it for the end. By the time they reached their end zone, they both leaned over, panting a little at all the movement they’d done that morning.
“C’mon, let’s walk to cool down,” he said, patting her back. He didn’t even care that she was a little sweaty. She nodded her head, straightening herself up, and they walked slowly toward the coffee shop they agreed upon.
Once they were there, they ordered together, and Conrad offered to pay. As they waited for their coffee and breakfast sandwiches, they both chugged at least two cups of water. He noticed one lock of her hair had been sticking up, and he reached out his hand to smooth it out. Her hair was just as soft as he suspected.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling up at him. “And, I meant to tell you, thank you for yesterday too. I know I was a little sloppy at the end.”
He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. “I would not describe you as being sloppy. You were just tired, and it was okay. We all had a long day yesterday.”
“I know, but still, you really did so much for me – taking off my makeup and helping me get into bed.” She reached her hand up to lightly touch his arm, and there was a bright look in her eye. “You really are a real life knight. I’m convinced.”
Something about the way she looked at that moment caused a shift in Conrad. Maybe it was the way the sunlight seeping through the tall window illuminated her hair. Maybe it was the way her lips curled up as she touched his arm, or the way the brightness of her eyes kept reminding him of “She’s a Rainbow” by the Rolling Stones. Whatever it was, he knew he couldn’t hide his feelings anymore.
But then his brain screamed at him to stop. His mind wandered back to his own experience dating a housemate. Similarly, Steven had told him to go for it, and then mere minutes after he got off the phone, he saw Belly making out with his brother. And even last summer, when he really put all his feelings out there and told Belly how he felt, she shut him out again.
He knew that he should open his heart again, but he still wasn’t sure if he was ready.
So instead of asking her out, he just said, “I don’t know if I’m much as a knight as you think I am, but… you’re welcome. I was happy to do it.”
***
He felt defeated when they got back to the house. He was mentally kicking himself for being a coward, but there was an internal blockage he couldn’t seem to lift. He headed into the kitchen to grab a cup of water and ran into Tess and Teddy eating at the island.
“We were literally just talking about you!” Tess exclaimed. Normally, Conrad would get anxious from a statement like that, but there was delight in Tess’s expression. “How was the rest of your night? What happened?”
“Uh, one sec,” he said, holding up his finger. He poked his head out of the kitchen to see if Y/N was anywhere in sight. She headed up the stairs when they walked in, but he needed to double check. Once the coast was clear, he turned back to Tess and Teddy. “Nothing happened last night, but this morning, we went on a run together. And I- I chickened out. I was so close to asking her out and I just-“ He let out a long sigh. “I don’t even know.”
“That’s normal. It took me forever to finally get the courage to ask out Tess,” Teddy said. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, man.”
He looked over at Tess, whose eyebrows were scrunched together. “I think I talked to her last night,” she said. “But I can’t remember. It’s kind of a blur.”
Teddy spun his head toward Tess. “What do you mean? Talked to her about what?” Tess gestured toward Conrad.
“What did she say?” Conrad asked, eagerly lurching forward.
“I can’t remember,” Tess mumbled, grimacing. “I feel like I- OH.” She then pulled out her phone. “I wrote it down, because I knew I was going to forget it.” Teddy leaned over her shoulder and started chuckling.
“What does it say?” Conrad asked. He was fully aware of how desperate he sounded, but he couldn’t take the suspense. Teddy gently grabbed his girlfriend’s phone and handed it over to Conrad.
Y/N says Cornad is cute. Says not sure on vibe. Would kiss.
“I was dancing, so that’s why your name is misspelled. I was trying to multi-task,” Tess said.
“She really said that?” Conrad asked, passing the phone back.
Tess shrugged. “Unless my notes are completely wrong.”
“Her notes usually aren’t wrong,” Teddy chimed in. “I think you’re in a good place to ask her out.”
Just then, one of the back doors opened. Conrad immediately dropped the conversation as Stassi walked into the room. She was quiet, simply giving the three a small smile and muttering a greeting before walking up the stairs.
“Is something going on with her today? I can’t tell,” Tess said.
Conrad knew the truth, but he figured it was best to hide it for Stassi’s sake. So instead, he shrugged. “I think she’s just hungover.”
***
Later that afternoon, Conrad was studying on the back patio, but his thoughts were occupied with Y/N. He was trying to figure out how he would even ask her out. He was chewing on the end of his pen, deep in thought, when he heard someone sobbing. The sound was coming from the balcony above him – the balcony that was connected to Y/N and Stassi’s room. He froze, wondering what could have happened.
He contemplated what he should do. Should he call out her name and acknowledge that he was there? Or let her have the privacy of the moment?
He chose the former. “Y/N? Is that you?” The sound stopped suddenly, and he cursed at himself for making the wrong choice. She probably wanted to be alone, and he ruined it.
But he saw a form awkwardly shuffle toward the end of the railing. It wasn’t Y/N, though. Instead, it was Stassi.
“Uh, sorry, it’s me,” she said. “I didn’t mean to disturb what you were doing.”
He felt uneasy. He didn’t know Stassi – or really anyone in the house – well enough to know what to say. But his heart broke for her. He knew what it was like to be in Stassi’s position.
“You didn’t,” he said with finality. “Hey, do you- Do you want to go out on a drive? Or go to the beach?” Stassi let out a long exhale and then nodded her head. “I gotta put my stuff up in my room, but we can walk out together?”
She nodded her head. “Sounds good.”
He shuffled his notebook and textbook together, before heading back inside and upstairs. He set his books down and picked up his keys, before walking over to Stassi’s door to gently knock. She opened the door quickly. Her eyes had a pinkish tinge to them.
“You ready?” he asked. She nodded her head.
The two of them walked quietly down the stairs. It was a little uncomfortable as they headed toward his car. When they were inside, he asked, “Where do you want to go?”
She sniffled. “Honestly… I kinda wanna go to Cookout.”
He had no idea what that was, but he typed it into his GPS and a million locations popped up on his phone. He picked the closest one and pulled out of their summer house’s front loop, right off onto the highway.
They were quiet for most of the car ride. He glanced over at her every now and then, only to see her staring at the window. Her demeanor was different, and he started to wonder if maybe he got the wrong impression of Stassi. Now, as he was witnessing her in the car, he was realizing that she wasn’t as intimidating as he initially thought. If anything, he was starting to think that Stassi might even be a little like him – guarded, but secretly, eager to connect with people. As they pulled into the parking lot, he asked, "Drive thru or do you want to go inside?”
“Umm, drive thru,” she said. “I probably look like a wreck.”
He shook his head. “You don’t look like a wreck, but we can do the drive thru.” He drove up until he was right behind a car. “Uh, so, confession. I have never been here before, and I don’t know what it is.”
She laughed. “You don’t have Cookout in California?”
He shook his head. “Or in Massachusetts.”
“It’s fast food. Like, greasy fast food, but it was my favorite thing as a kid when we’d come to North Carolina,” she said. “There’s only one near D.C., and you have to drive like an hour out to get to it, so it always felt like a treat when we’d come here. They have these milkshakes and cheese bites too. Or you can get cheerwine.”
“Cheerwine?” he asked. “What’s cheerwine?”
“Oh my god, you’re such a Yankee,” she said, widening her eyes.
“You’re from D.C.”
“Which is in the south, mind you,” she replied. “Unless you didn’t pay attention in your history class.”
He laughed. “I paid attention in my history class. I just wouldn’t consider D.C. now the south.”
She raised one of her eyebrows. “And when was the last time you were there?” Conrad hesitated. “Yup, yup, I knew it,” she cackled. “You haven’t been in a while. I knew it.”
“Okay, okay, sure,” he said. “Now are you going to tell me what cheerwine is?”
She laughed again. “It’s kind of like if you mixed cherry flavoring with Dr. Pepper. Do you like Dr. Pepper?”
“Not really.”
“Well, you should try it anyway,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “That and the cheese bites.”
It was finally their turn to order. Stassi rattled out what she wanted, and he did as she asked – requesting a cheerwine and just an order of white cheddar cheese bites. He wasn’t that hungry, but he knew it would lighten her mood.
After they picked up their food, Conrad pulled into a parking spot so they could sort through what they grabbed. He took a sip of his cheerwine and winced. “Too sweet,” he said. Stassi laughed. Usually, Conrad didn’t like when people ate in his car, but he chose to ignore it this time.
“Thanks for doing this,” she said quietly. “I- I don’t think I could take another second in the house today.”
“I get that,” he said. “Do you want to talk about what’s going on?” She bit her lip and glanced away from him for a minute. “We don’t have to.”
“No, no, it’s just… I don’t know,” she said, pausing. He kept looking at her, waiting for her to continue. “I have had a crush on Hale for forever, and for years, I just didn’t think it’d go anywhere. Over winter, he and I hooked up, and I thought maybe it’d be time.” She sighed again. “I guess he didn’t think he could get his hopes up over me again, since for years, he felt the same way but I took off across the globe. We said we’d talk about it this summer, right when Emory invited us both to the house, but… then I showed up and he acted like nothing happened. I kind of did this toxic thing, flirting with you and hoping that’d nudge him, but it didn’t even work. Next thing I knew, he was hooking up with Lexi. It sucks… feeling expendable like that.”
Conrad knew exactly what she was talking about.
“I understand, and I… I don’t think it was right for Hale to do that, for what it’s worth. I know I don’t know the guy, but he should have tried to talk to you,” Conrad said. “But, I was kind of in your position once last summer, and I learned the best thing to do is to be direct. It sucks to have to put yourself out there. It’s the most embarrassing thing in the world, and I can’t promise it’s going to end well. But once I did, I felt so much peace after. I could at least say to myself, ‘There. I did everything I could.’ That’s what you want for yourself – to be able to tell yourself you tried.”
Stassi looked at him. “Do you think I should tell him I still like him?”
Conrad shrugged. “I can’t be the one to tell you what you should say. I think that’s where you have to listen to yourself. If I have any advice, it’s to say what comes to your mind.” He paused. “I mean, think about it before you say it, but you usually know what you need to tell someone.”
She giggled. “Thanks, Conrad. And thanks again, for this.” She waved up her milkshake.
As they drove back to their house, he mulled over his own words and the lessons he learned. Maybe it was too late with Belly, but that didn’t mean he had to make the same mistakes with someone else. It finally gave him the courage to do what he needed to do.
So, after they pulled in, he marched up to Y/N’s room. Her door was open, and he knocked lightly on the frame. She set her book down, waving him in, and he stepped further into her room.
“Hey,” she said, eyes brightening. “We were all wondering where you ran off to.”
He fumbled with his fingers. “Oh, yeah. I- I left for a bit with Stassi. She was kind of upset about, you know, what Margot told us, and I thought she could use a friend.”
“That’s sweet of you. How’s she holding up?”
“She was upset, but I think she’s better now,” he replied. “Hey, listen, I’m sorry to change the topic, but I wanted to ask you something earlier today. I was wondering if- I was wondering if you’d be open to going on a date with me.”
There. He said it. Finally. He felt his anxiety seize in his chest, but at least it was done.
It felt like minutes before she replied, but then a huge smile stretched across her face and she vigorously nodded her head. “Yeah, I’d really like that. Whenever.”
“Really?” he asked, lighting up. “Great. I don’t know a lot of places here, but is there something you’d like to do? Drinks? Dinner? I don’t think there’s an art gallery here, but I could look.”
“There’s actually a place that Ryan – the guy from last night – told me about, and I really wanna go,” she said. “It’s a cocktail bar. Would you be open to that? Maybe tomorrow night, if you’re not busy?”
He nodded his head. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s do it.”
When he was back in his room, he texted Steven. I asked her out. She said yes.
His phone chimed with a reply minutes later. Hell yeah dude.
***
The next day, Conrad was once again struggling to focus on studying. His mind was buzzing with excitement thinking about his date with Y/N. He told Tess and Teddy about it the next morning, and soon, Margot was knocking on his door congratulating him and asking if he knew what he was going to wear. (She ended up digging through his closet and drawers, and picking out something for him.)
Somehow, even though they lived right across the hall from each other, he hadn’t seen much of Y/N that day. They had passed each other briefly as he was coming back from his run in the morning, and she was heading off to a yoga studio. So, he was nervous as he approached her door.
It was shut this time, so he knocked on it. When she opened it, Conrad’s breath was taken away. She was wearing a pink dress and gold hoops, and she looked even more radiant than the first time Conrad saw her.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you,” she replied, stepping out of her room. “You look handsome.”
“Not pretty this time?” he teased.
She smiled. “No, pretty too.”
They made small talk as they walked down the stairs toward his car. He opened the passenger seat door for her, and then slid into the driver seat. She typed in the place on his phone, and as his hand brushed hers, he thought about how much he wanted to hold her hand.
When they arrived, he helped her out of the car. He felt his heart practically gallop when he saw how delighted she looked as they walked into the bar and toward the table he reserved.
She ordered a strawberry sayonara, and he ordered a manhattan that had some kind of twist to it. He wasn’t usually a dark liquor person, but he felt like he had to upscale his order. He was nervous about not seeming like he was into this – the uppity cocktail bars and eccentric menu. Though, in truth, he tended to stick to ordering beers at dive bars with Agnes, Steven and Jeremiah.
He felt his heart weigh down again as he thought of his brother, but he shoved those thoughts aside and looked at Y/N. She was practically glowing in the sunlight as she sipped her dark pink drink.
“I couldn’t focus on studying today,” he admitted. “I was thinking about our date all day.”
“Really?” She seemed genuinely surprised.
“Yeah, have you met you?” he replied. “I’ve been practically fumbling ever since I saw you the first time.”
She slowly shook her head. “I didn’t notice that.” She set down her drink. “You know, I was getting really nervous around you too.”
This time, he was in disbelief. “Really? I didn’t pick on that. At all.”
“I feel like over the past few days I’ve been doing some silly things to get to know you better,” she said. “Like, why do you think I found you to help me figure out where to place my bags? Or when I asked you to help me with my hair? I easily could’ve done that.” She paused. “Well, not easily, but it would have gotten done.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I think I was so excited you were asking me to do it that I didn’t catch onto anything else.”
Her smile grew bigger, and Conrad felt himself practically melt. She had one of the nicest smiles he’d seen. He recalled how it felt like to see her beam for the first time and question whether she was the epitome of the sun herself.
“You’re such a gentleman,” she said. She picked up her drink again and took another sip. “I kind of want to know. What red flags do you think you have?”
He weighed on how to answer that. “I can be avoidant, but… I’m trying not to be. Any time I’m anxious about something, I pull away from it. And at the same time, I’m a bit of a people pleaser.” He shrugged. “At least, that’s what I’ve been getting out of therapy.”
“I think you’re a little hard on yourself too,” she said. “Carrying everyone’s burdens.”
“Okay, now you sound like my therapist,” he joked, and his heart skipped a beat when she laughed. “What about you?”
“Well, I’m the opposite of you. I’m definitely an anxious attachment type,” she said. “I also overthink everything, but like you, I also people please.” She cocked her head. “It’s funny though, because I definitely haven’t thought you’ve been avoidant the past few days. If anything, I feel like you’ve been direct and open with me.”
He shook his head. “It’s been there. I chickened out yesterday for a bit. I meant to ask you out that morning, right after our run. Hell, probably even earlier than that.”
“What convinced you to do it?”
“Honestly, a lot of pep talks and talking with Stassi yesterday,” he said. “When I was wit her, I was reflecting a lot about things I’ve learned, and one of my biggest lessons has been to open up and say how I feel. I can’t always promise my delivery is perfect, but it’s getting me out of avoiding.”
She paused, digesting his words. Then, she reached her hand across the table to graze over Conrad’s. He felt a jolt. It was the first time they intentionally did that. “I think that’s wonderful.” He noticed her gulp. “I want to be in something that I feel sure of, that I don’t feel like I have to constantly ask to be reassured. I know some of that means I need to release a fear I'm going to be left in the dust.” She squeezed his hand. “You know, I usually would have spiraled if I saw you and Stassi run off together for a few hours, knowing she likes you, but I didn’t yesterday. I was surprised when you told me and I didn’t even feel an inkling of anxiety. It felt… good to not have that.”
“I’m glad. That’s the last thing I would want – for you to spiral.” He squeezed her hand back. “I can’t promise I’m perfect when I’m dating. I can’t say I’ll always get it right, but… I’m trying.”
She nodded her head. “I’m trying too.” Then paused. A lightness reached her eyes. “Maybe we can both try being secure together.”
***
They talked for hours. Conrad was surprised by how much his anxiety dissipated after they started talking. It was nearly 11 p.m. by the time they figured it’d be time to go home. She was meeting with the owner of a local yoga studio in the morning to pick up a teaching job, and he had to spend more time studying for his USMLE Step One exam. He paid the tab, and they started the drive back home.
As they pulled into the driveway, he started to feel nervous again. He realized he hadn’t kissed her. He hadn’t even tried to yet. His hands were feeling jittery as he pulled the key out of the ignition.
“You ready to go back in?” he asked, jutting his chin toward the house.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, nodding her head. It felt awkward to try to kiss her now. He knew he would be clumsy if he tried to lean over the center console and take all the romance away. So instead, he hopped out of the car and jogged over to her side to open the passenger door. He reached out his arm to help her out, but even after she exited his vehicle, she traced her fingers further down his arm and held onto his hand. Conrad hoped his hands weren’t sweaty from his nerves.
“I’m really glad I stopped being a wimp and we got to do this tonight,” he said. “It was nice to talk to you.”
“Me too,” she said, smiling again. He was about to reach for the door handle, but stopped himself. Y/N stopped too. “You okay?”
This was it. The time to try again. “I- Can I kiss you?” he stuttered out, turning to face her. Their hands were still intertwined.
Y/N took a step closer to him, giggling and nodded her head. “Yeah, yeah, you can.”
He released their interlocked fingers to cup her face, and he leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were pillowy. He moved gently, but didn’t want to push things so far. So after a few seconds, he pulled back just to look at her and a smile curled up on her lips. Her eyes were glimmering under the outdoor light.
“Wait,” she said. This time, she was the one who propelled herself forward to kiss him. He kissed her back, moving his hands from around her face to rest instead on her hips. She rested her hands on his sides too, as they pressed toward each other.
When they pulled away, he briefly fixed one of her strands of hair. “I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t try to kiss you.” He spoke softly. He had this feeling that the moment was fragile, and if he was too loud, he might break it.
“I was hoping you’d do it,” she said.
They walked back into the house, still holding hands. Conrad didn’t even care if his housemates saw it. All he cared about was this feeling that existed in between him and Y/N.
The house, though, was quiet when they walked in. Most of the lights were off. They heard the sound of giggling down the hall, which Conrad suspected was Tess’s laughter, but that was the only hint of a presence. Y/N and Conrad walked up the stairs, only breaking their hold once they reached her bedroom door.
“Well, goodnight,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good luck with the chat tomorrow with that yoga studio,” he said. “Let me know how it goes.”
She gave him a quick peck again on his lips, before she opened her door and disappeared inside. Conrad was walking toward his room when the door at the end of hall cracked open, revealing Margot. She lifted her thumb up, then down, and Conrad knew she was asking how the date went.
He immediately gave her a thumbs up.
***
The next week moved slowly. He was burying himself in studying again — only taking breaks to go for a swim or chat with some of housemates over meals.
Y/N had started subbing for some yoga studios, and she was applying for some barista and bartending jobs in the area for the summer. Sometimes, she would join him out on the patio or at the dining table while he was studying. She’d quietly work on her applications or whatever other task required her attention.
They tried at first to keep their relationship discreet, but there was no point. Conrad had told Tess and Teddy, who then told Margot. Margot told Lexi. Lexi told Hale, who told Emory. Emory told Stassi. They were subject to teasing, even more than Lexi and Hale. On one of their first weekends out after, Emory got them bottle service and had the billboard say, “Congratulations Y/N and Conrad!” like they were engaged.
Weeks started flying by in a familiar rhythm. Y/N got a barista job in addition to teaching yoga classes. He spent most of his days studying. When she got home from work, they’d sometimes lay out in the lounge chairs by the pool or go out on a date in town. On the weekends, the group of housemates would eat meals together and head over to the beach. Sometimes, they’d follow up with rounds of bars or drinks at home.
He’d noticed that Stassi had started withdrawing more in the house. When they were out as a group, she was acting completely normal, but he still had this sense it was a performance. He wasn’t sure if she ever talked to Hale directly or decided against it all together. He tried his best to check in on her, but she was often absent from the house all together.
Amid all of that, he had still not spent the night with Y/N – not even after a drunk night out, a date, or anything. He wasn’t sure how to approach asking if that was something she wanted to do. They’d made out in her room or his room a few times, but more often than not, one of their roommates would make too loud of a noise that would disrupt the mood.
About a week before July 4th, Emory made a big pitch for the house. He asked for the house to throw a July 4th party, complete with grilling, swimming and fireworks. Some people in the house had started making friends around town, and the group from the D.C.-area knew plenty of people who spent their summers in North Carolina.
A few hours after the house made the decision to do it, Margot approached Y/N and Conrad while they were swimming in the pool.
“I have a favor to ask you guys,” she said, as she crouched right by the edge of the pool.
“Okay,” Y/N replied, swimming over to her. “What’s up?”
“So, my boyfriend, Austin, wants to come for the week of July 4th for a few days. The problem is, I’m sharing a room with Lexi,” she said. “She doesn’t think she could handle sleeping in Hale’s room because it’s still casual and she doesn’t want to stir up any more tension with Stassi. So, I was wondering if either of you would be willing to share a room with Lexi, or if you two would be willing to share a room with each other so Lexi can crash in one of your rooms?”
They both glanced at each other. It’d be a big step for both of them. In a way, it’d feel like solidifying they were a couple in the house, but he wasn’t sure how open Y/N would be to that. He couldn’t read her reaction, and he didn’t want to put her in a weird spot in front of Margot.
“Could you give us a minute to talk about it?” he asked.
Margot nodded her head. “Take all the time you need. Well, actually, please let me know today, if you could, so Austin can buy tickets.” Conrad and Y/N giggled as Margot back into the house.
“What are you thinking?” he asked Y/N.
“I’d be okay with it, if you are,” she said. “But I don’t mind sharing a room with Lexi either, so it’s up to you.”
“I don’t mind sharing a room,” Conrad said. He then realized how that sounded. “Let me fix that, I want to share a room.”
She grinned. “Okay, then deal.”
***
On July 3rd, Y/N started moving some of her clothes and toiletries into Conrad’s room. He cleared some room in the closet and the dresser for her. And to be extra safe, he deep cleaned his bathroom and put on a fresh pair of sheets.
He’d never gotten to properly share a room with a girl before. He and Belly were both too young to get an apartment together when they dated, and since then, there hadn’t been anyone else.
But he quickly realized he liked seeing his toothbrush next to hers in his bathroom. He liked that there were strands of her hair already lingering on his floor. But he knew by far that his favorite part was going to be sleeping next to her.
They hosted a welcome dinner for Margot’s boyfriend, Austin. He was a bit standoffish, but Conrad figured it was likely nerves from meeting so many people at once.
They all had to be up early in the morning to help set up for the party, and Y/N was planning on teaching a yoga class at 9 a.m. So, by about 10 p.m., Conrad and Y/N decided to call it a night.
He was nervous as he followed her up the stairs. What if she hated sleeping next to him? What if he snored and didn’t know it? Or maybe he accidentally kicked in his sleep? He hadn’t shared a bed or room with another person in years.
When he pushed his bedroom door open, Y/N flung herself on the bed. “M’exhausted,” she murmured. He laughed as he walked next to her, looming over her sprawled out form. He started pulling her shoes off and setting them in the closet. When he turned around to face her again, she propped herself up on her elbows to look at him.
“I’m going to brush my teeth,” he said. “Do you need anything?”
She stood up. “No, I’ll join you.”
They both walked into his bathroom and picked up their respective toothbrushes. Conrad squeezed some of the toothpaste on her brush, then his. It made him feel giddy to be able to do such small domestic things with her like this. He was trying not to giggle as he looked at the two of them in the mirror. They took turns rinsing out their mouths. And then, took turns washing their faces. She flicked water at him while he was waiting for her to wrap up.
When they were back in his bedroom, he felt his anxiety begin to stir up again. Y/N started shuffling in one of her drawers and pulled out a nightslip. Conrad gulped.
“You don’t mind if I change here? Do you?” she asked. There was a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Not at all,” he said, probably more breathily than he intended to. He cleared his throat. “Do you care if I do?” She shook her head.
Y/N peeled off her shirt, revealing a lacy black bra underneath. Conrad did the same, and the two kept eye contact as they peeled off each layer of clothing. When they were both standing in their underwear, there was a pause as they both looked over. Suddenly, Y/N strode up to him and kissed him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his hands went to her thighs, immediately scooping her up. He began carrying her toward his bed as they continued to kiss. He gently set her down and hoisted himself on top of her. His lips immediately pressed against hers again, as he ran his fingers along her side.
“I want you,” she whispered as they broke apart briefly for air.
“I want you too,” he said. “You look so pretty underneath me right now.”
She smiled and tugged him closer to her to kiss him again. As they kissed, Conrad cupped one of her breasts in his hand and she whimpered. The sounds she was making were just so pretty, so perfect.
His hands traced down her back until he found her bra clasp. “Can I?” he asked. She nodded her head.
He unclasped her bra and slowly pulled it off her. He studied her in the dim lighting for a second. It was different to see her chest lift with every inhale like this. He cupped the other breast – the one on her left side – and slowly moved his hand up to her heart. He could feel her heart beating rapidly, and he smirked to himself knowing he was the one giving her that reaction.
He leaned down to kiss her again, as one of his hands slipped underneath her underwear. He heard her let out a small gasp as his finger lightly touched her clit. He let two of his fingers move up and down her folds, as she writhed underneath him. He forgot what it was like to be so close to someone – to have that yearning take over the senses completely.
She moaned again as he inserted one finger inside her and began to slowly pump it in and out.
“You have to be a little quiet,” he reminded her. “We can’t have Margot and Austin hearing us.”
“I’m sure they’re up to the same thing,” Y/N replied, as she kissed his lips again.
He started to kiss along her jawline, then gently kissed one of her ear lobes. He moved back down her neck, all while he stroked her with his fingers. He noticed that her skin smelled like flowers.
He swirled his tongue around one of her nipples, as he switched his fingers attention back to her clit and began rubbing her there. Her hips slightly bucked up, and he chuckled.
“You’re so reactive,” he said.
“Is that a problem?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s… ridiculously hot.” He focused again on her breasts, taking the other nipple gently into his mouth. He sat up briefly, just to pull her underwear off her legs and throw that off to the side too. She looked so angelic laying on his bed, with her hair splayed out around her head. He kissed her lips again before shifting his attention to her core. He lifted her legs over his shoulders, as he leaned down to kiss right at her center. He inserted a finger back inside her, as his tongue began to lick her up, savoring every taste of her.
She tasted mostly sweet, with just a hint of a saltiness. He was obsessed with it as his tongue worked her clit. While his fingers pumped inside her, his other hand held her down so he could focus on making sure she kept making all those pretty moans. He was growing harder in his boxers by the minute just listening to her and watching her squirm.
“Conrad,” she breathed. “I’m close.”
He tried not to let his smile disrupt the rhythm he’d started as he flicked his tongue on her clit. She twitched up slightly and her breath started picking up, until suddenly she was slowing down. Conrad knew he’d gotten her off, and he was trying not to let his smugness show as he sat up.
“Want to taste yourself?” he asked. She nodded her head. He removed her legs from his shoulders and leaned over her again so he could kiss her on the lips. He was going to pull away after a brief peck or two, but her arms circled around his neck and he kissed her deeply.
“I want you inside me,” she said. “Like desperately. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
“All day? Really?” he asked, grinning.
“Well, maybe even longer than all day. Maybe since Margot asked us if we’d want to share a room.”
“I have too,” he said as he pulled down his boxers. He watched as her eyes flickered down to his cock.
He didn’t want to make it too intense the first time. There’d be other occasions when he could try all the things he wanted to do with her. So, he nestled himself in between her legs and lined up his cock with her entrance. He gently pushed inside her, and this time, he was the one who let out a moan.
He propped himself up with his hands as he thrust into her. He couldn’t stop looking into her eyes. Her hands reached up to cup his face, and he kissed her wrist. If this was her altar, he wanted to worship at it every day.
“You feel so perfect,” he told her. “So perfect for me.”
“I could have you inside of me forever,” she said back. Conrad grinned and leaned down to kiss her.
He started quickening his pace, and he could hear himself slapping against her. He didn’t care at this point if his roommates heard. All he cared about was Y/N. He felt a knock inside of his stomach and he knew he was getting close.
“Do you want me to pull out?” he asked. She shook his head.
“You’re okay,” she murmured. “Are you close?”
“Yeah baby.” He kept up his quickened pace, until he felt himself snap. He practically collapsed on top of her, but managed to keep himself slightly propped up by his forearms and kissed the side of her face. He was panting as he sat up and pulled outside of her, before laying on his back next to her.
He grabbed two tissues, passing one to her to clean up. They both kissed again. He heard Y/N giggle, and his eyes flickered over to her.
“What?” he asked.
She shook her head, still smiling. “Nothing, I’m just so happy that I can’t stop giggling.” Her words made him grin.
Conrad stood up and grabbed both of their tissues before tossing them in the trash. He pulled his boxers back on, then offered Y/N her underwear. She slipped on her panties and asked Conrad to hand her the nightslip she never got to put on. As she slipped the dress over her head, he pulled down the covers and helped her shuffle underneath the sheets. He slipped in next to her and wrapped her in his arms.
He pressed a kiss on her forehead and ran his hand along her back. He could feel her heart beating again, as her head rested on his chest.
“You know, the Romans had this odd idea about the heart,” he started. “They believed there was a vein that ran from your heart to your fourth finger. They called it vena amoris, which means vein of love. Before physicians had a greater understanding of the human body, they believed placing a ring on that finger would cure any ailments. Or even just pinching that finger would do the job.”
She looked up at him. “You’re telling me about the cardiovascular system just right after having great sex with me?”
He blushed. “I– Uh- Sorry, I just thought-”
“No, it’s really hot.”
***
The next morning, Y/N was the first one up. She slipped out early to go teach a yoga class. Conrad was struggling to convince himself to get up for a run, but after staring at the ceiling for 15 minutes, he eventually got up.
It was already sweltering, even though it wasn’t even 9 a.m. yet. Conrad didn’t last as long as he normally would on his runs just because of how intense the heat felt. He booked it straight to the kitchen and chugged water as soon as he walked back in, then headed to his room to shower.
By the time he was out, Y/N was walking into the bedroom. “Jeez, it’s so hot outside today. I felt like my car’s AC couldn’t keep up,” she said. She was flinging off her yoga pants and sports bra, and throwing it into Conrad’s hamper. He liked how comfortable she felt around him.
“I didn’t even finish my full run,” he admitted. “It was too hot.”
“I’m going to be in the pool for most of this July 4th function.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips, then walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
As she got ready, Conrad headed downstairs to see if Emory needed any help setting up. Emory had gone all out for the event, ordering tons of alcohol and even a mechanical bull. It would be one of the most extravagant July 4th parties Conrad ever attended.
His heart ached as he thought of his previous Independence Days in Cousins Beach with his mom, Jeremiah, Belly, Steven and Laurel. He yearned for his mom’s cake. Hell, he even missed the pomegranate margaritas that Belly’s dad’s girlfriend taught them one year.
Jeremiah still hadn’t responded to any of his texts since the wedding, but that didn’t stop Conrad from trying. He found a photo in his camera roll from 10 years ago, when they were still awkward teenagers. They had posed for a photo with their mom out by the pool. Everyone was smiling brightly, and he could even see his dad grilling in the background.
He sent the photo to Jeremiah with a text that read: Happy 4th. Miss you Jer. Hope you’re having a good time in Cousins. Wish we could be there with mom.
Conrad sighed as he shut his phone. It was always odd trying to contact Jeremiah. He tried to see his brother at Christmas, but he bailed at the last minute. On the anniversary of their mother’s passing, Conrad only saw his father and Laurel. He chatted with Steven on the phone for a bit, and even though Steven felt like a brother, it never replaced the grief he knew that Jeremiah understood the most.
Conrad had harbored this deep-seated sense of isolation for years. Sometimes, he swore it clung to his bones – it was as much a part of his DNA as all of the nucleotides.
He was about to text Laurel, too, but then he heard a, “YEAHHHHH BUDDYYYYY!” and remembered his original intent of walking downstairs.
Emory was standing in front of the front door, which was cracked open. There were cases of beer, seltzers and some liquor outside. Hale was on his left, also grinning.
“Holy shit,” Hale said.
“This is for today?” Conrad asked, finishing his walk down the stairs.
“Yup,” Emory replied, glancing over at him. “We need to put it in the coolers in that bar in the back. I got some ice back there already. Then, Conrad, I’m gonna need you and Teddy on breakfast duty while Hale and I work on getting everyone to help set up.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Hale said.
Conrad laughed to himself, thinking of the time Y/N called Emory the CEO of their trips. He’d never seen Emory so functional. They moved like cogs in a well-oiled machine, as they hauled the cases of alcohol toward the backyard. They each cracked open the cases and placed the cans into the bar one at a time. They set up the liquor on shelves behind the bar, so the bartenders Emory hired would have an easy time grabbing drinks.
From there, Conrad knocked on Teddy and Tess’s door, and explained that he and Teddy were responsible for cooking breakfast. The rest of the house was in the backyard, helping blow up pool floaties and balloons. Some of the girls were coordinating decorations around the pool house, and Emory was on the phone with the people he hired to bring a mechanical bull. Conrad was chuckling to himself as he observed the group and flipped bacon.
“Crazy to think we barely knew these guys a few weeks ago,” Teddy said. “Remember when we were talking in this kitchen and you were telling me about how the only girl you really talked to was Y/N?”
Conrad chuckled. “Remember when I said it was too early to say if I was into someone and Tess immediately picked up that I had a crush on Y/N later that day?” They both laughed.
Conrad looked out the window to see where Y/N was. She was sitting criss-cross on a lounge chair and working on blowing up a hot dog pool floatie. He reminisced on what it was like to hold her as they fell asleep last night.
When they finished cooking breakfast, Teddy and Conrad brought dishes full of food out to set on their big outdoor table. Conrad placed a jug of orange juice and pitcher full of iced coffee out.
Emory was the first one to get to the table. He was thrilled the mechanical bull was on its way. The rest of the group trickled in, and it was unspoken among all of them that Y/N would sit next to Conrad. As they ate breakfast together, Conrad occasionally squeezed Y/N’s leg under the table.
“God, if this is how hot it’s going to be for most of the party, I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” Stassi remarked.
“Aw, come on, that’s what the pool is for,” Emory replied.
“I was just telling Conrad this morning I’ll be in the pool for most of this party,” Y/N said. “We might have to get some sprinklers out too, just because of how bad the heat is gonna be.”
“I agree,” Teddy said, as he turned his phone toward the group. The weather app was pulled up. “It’s gonna be in the upper 90s in the afternoon. We’ll have to make sure people are drinking water and coming inside to cool down.”
“Okay, Dr. Patton,” Tess teased, nudging him slightly. Teddy grinned at his girlfriend.
“Guys, I kind of scheduled another surprise for us too,” Hale said slyly, leaning back in his chair. “Emory, you’re going to love it.” Emory raised an eyebrow. “I got us a dunk tank that’s on the way.”
Emory beamed, and Lexi laughed. “What even is the budget for this party?” she asked. “Like how much did you have to pay for that?”
“It’s only $250 for eight hours,” Hale said. “I just have to be the one to fill it, but it should get here right before our party starts.” He looked over at Emory. “How much was the bull?”
“Like, over $1,000,” Emory said. “But I got my parents to pitch in.”
“Your parents are going to help us pay off our mid-20s July 4th party?” Margot asked. Austin sat on her right side, and his arm was slung around her shoulders.
“Yeah,” Emory said, shrugging. “We gotta have a good July 4th.”
Stassi shook her head, mostly to herself, as she took another bite of her hashbrowns. Conrad glanced over at Y/N. She was already looking at him. They both smiled at each other and turned back to their food.
***
After breakfast, Conrad focused on washing the plates and utensils with Teddy while the rest of the group finished decorating. They heard Emory holler and watched him dap up Hale as the mechanical bull came in.
About an hour before the party was supposed to start, some of the girls went upstairs to get ready. Teddy and Conrad started placing some of their snacks in bowls and on platters. They both joked with each other that they were the unofficial chefs of the day. (Though Hale and Emory pledged they’d take on grilling to kick off the party.)
Y/N walked downstairs in one of Conrad’s linen button downs. It was completely open, revealing a white bikini with printed cherries all over it. She was wearing cut off denim shorts, presumably over her bikini bottoms. Conrad couldn’t stop looking at her. He walked over to her and grabbed her by her hips.
“You look amazing,” he said, eyeing the way his shirt hung off her shoulders. He gave her a quick peck on the lips.
“Thank you baby,” she said.
Tess had come down the stairs shortly after, similarly hugging and kissing Teddy. “We got the rest of this,” she said. “Why don’t you guys go upstairs to change so everyone’s ready once people start showing up?”
Conrad went up to his room to change. He slipped on a pair of navy swim shorts and a white t-shirt. He put on one of his old pairs of beach loafers that his mom used to insist he wear for July 4th instead of flip-flops.
When he got back downstairs, Emory was hauling a large speaker outside. Apparently, a DJ would come later in the evening, but for now, they were going to rely on a playlist curated by the house. Conrad had added “Boys of Summer” by Don Henley, since his mom and Laurel used to play it every July 4th while they were grilling. He remembered how he used to jump around with Belly, Jeremiah and Steven when they were all in elementary school. Sometimes, his mom would run over and twirl him around.
“Chocolate” by The 1975 came on, and the sound of the guitar opening up the song snapped him back to the present. Hale was trying to convince Emory to be the first one to go into the dunk tank, while Stassi was egging it on. Y/N was sitting by the edge of the pool with Margot, Lexi and Tess, while Teddy and Austin were in a deep conversation.
So, he grabbed a few water bottles and walked over to the edge of the pool. He handed each of the girls one.
“Wow, thanks Conrad,” Margot said as she twisted the cap off.
“He and Teddy will be like this for the rest of the party,” Tess said. “They turn into a pair of dads, especially if we’re having a darty.”
He rolled his eyes playfully. “I just worry about you guys, okay.”
“At least someone is,” Margot remarked, as she took a sip of her water. Conrad could detect the slight huff in her tone, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Did something happen?” Conrad asked.
“Austin has just been acting a little weird since he showed up,” Lexi explained, glancing over at Margot’s boyfriend. “He’s not normally so… withdrawn.”
Conrad looked over at Austin, recollecting how quiet he had been over the past 24 hours. “You don’t think it’s just nerves? It’s a big house and he’s meeting a lot of people at once.”
Margot shook her head. “Something just feels off about it.” She cocked her head as she studied her boyfriend from afar. “I feel like he’s avoiding looking at me, and I don’t know why. I don’t like this insecurity I’m feeling.”
Conrad wasn’t sure if he should pry more, but before he could put much more thought into it, Emory had started welcoming people into the house.
After about an hour, the party was in full-swing. Hale ended up being the first one to go in the dunk tank, and he eventually flew into the water after Stassi made a good hit. The two of them were giggling as he walked out of the tank. Austin, Teddy, Emory and Lexi were all gathered by the grill. Conrad chose to hang out with Tess, Margot and Y/N in the pool. He noticed Lexi glance over at Stassi and Hale laughing together.
“Ugh, I feel like I need to apply more sunscreen every five minutes,” Y/N remarked. “I cannot believe how hot it is today.”
“Yeah, I’m surprised our A/C is even remotely able to keep up,” Margot said. “I keep feeling so parched, even though we’re in the water.”
“It’s probably because you need electrolytes,” Conrad said.
“Okay, Dr. Fisher,” she said. “I’ll go get some Gatorade.”
“I think I could use a break from swimming to get some water,” Y/N said, as she started moving toward the ladder to climb out.
They all decided to get out to take a break. Conrad walked toward his towel. He heard his phone chime with a text and picked it up. He froze when he saw it was from Belly. It was atypical for her to reach out to him. Happy Fourth of July, it read. Missed you in Cousins this year.
It was the most she’d said to him in about a year. He almost couldn’t believe it was on his phone. He quickly replied. Thanks Belly. Hope you’re having a good holiday with Jer and your family.
He let out a long breath. He realized there was a chance his brother may have texted him while he was in the pool and scrolled through his notifications to see. Still, there was nothing. But Conrad remained optimistic – if Belly was feeling comfortable enough to talk to him again, maybe Jeremiah felt that way too.
“You okay?” Y/N asked, walking up to his side and squeezing his arm. She had a large water bottle in her hand.
“Oh, hey, yeah,” he said. He set his phone back down.
“Are you sure? You just looked a little… out of it,” she said.
He shook his head. “No, no, it’s okay,” he insisted. “Don’t worry about me. I’m okay.” He knew she didn’t believe him based off of the way she was searching his eyes. “Hey, why don’t we take a spin at the mechanical bull? We haven’t gone over there yet today. Then maybe eat after?”
“Okay, okay,” she agreed. “Let’s go do that.”
***
After a few more hours of partying, Conrad walked back into the house to grab him and Y/N a beer. He spotted Hale and Stassi talking on the couch. Her eyes were bright as she giggled at something he said. Margot briskly walked in and went upstairs, likely to her own bedroom. Conrad was about to walk back toward the pool when he heard his phone ring.
Jeremiah was calling him.
He set down the two beers and moved toward the front of the house. He swung open the front door and stepped into their driveway, grinning as he picked up the phone.
“Hey man, happy fourth, it’s good to hear from you,” Conrad said. “What have you guys been up to today?”
“Well, Con, let me tell ya about it,” his brother replied. His words were more drawn out than usual. “I thought I was going to hang out with my wife all day today, but last night, right before we even left for Cousins, she tells me that she doesn’t think we should be together anymore.”
“Well you know what the worst part is? She mentioned she’s been thinking about the stuff that happened last year with you. Apparently, on her bachelorette night, she started freaking out thinking about how the only person she pictured marrying was you. Taylor witnessed it, and on our wedding day, Taylor tried to convince Belly to call off the wedding. All because of you.”
Conrad’s heart was hammering in his chest. He didn’t know Belly had any doubts about the wedding. She’d been so adamant about marrying Jeremiah, even kicking Conrad out of the event to appease her now-husband.
“Jer, look, I will apologize every day for the rest of my life if you need me to,” Conrad said. “I feel awful. I’ve always wanted to protect you and make sure you’re happy. Look, I’m sorry that things are over between you guys now, but … I don’t think this is entirely on me either.”
“Oh fuck off,” Jeremiah said. “You were waiting all of last summer for just the right time to sneak your way back in. You chose that over caring about your brother.”
“Jeremiah, that’s not fair and you know that.”
“You are one of the most selfish people I know,” Jeremiah said. Then, he promptly hung up.
Conrad stood there for a second, feeling dumbfounded. He had somehow managed to ruin everything – again. His phone was shaking in his hand. His mind was consumed by thoughts that he was just as selfish as his brother said he was. Suddenly, the heat felt too much. He was trying to breathe deeply, but he couldn’t get enough oxygen while inhaling.
He saw as the first firework went off, flashing a bright burst that illuminated the whole driveway. He watched as an array of colors lit up the sky. He could vaguely hear people from the party cheering as they watched the show, and he struggled to steady his breath.
“Conrad!” he heard Y/N call out. She grabbed his arm. He could barely register her face as he kept hyperventilating. All he could focus on was the way her hand felt as it pressed on his chest. Her other hand rested on his right shoulder. “Breathe with me,” she said. “We’ll start with inhaling.”
She started exaggerating long inhales and exhales, all while looking directly into his eyes. He reached one hand out to cover her own heart, as he tried to even the pace of his breath with hers. He kept focusing on the way her soft hands felt on him, and how her warmth felt inviting rather than suffocating.
Eventually, his breath steadied out. Y/N immediately moved in to hug him, and he felt himself collapse against her. He watched as streaks of light burst in the sky, and he breathed into Y/N’s neck.
“What do you need?” she asked him.
“Nothing, I’m- I’m fine,” he said. He stepped out, taking a deep breath in again. “Sorry, I think I need to go inside for a minute, and just relax.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding her head. “Do you want me to come with you?”
He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I just need a second.”
He crept up the stairs. As soon as he stepped into his room, he collapsed on his bed. He stared up at his ceiling, watching as the fireworks briefly lit up his bedroom. He didn’t know how long he laid there – if it was 10 minutes or an hour – but he didn’t get out of his funk until he heard people thundering up the stairs. He sat up.
“You need to leave right now!” It sounded like Margot. “I don’t ever want to see you in this house ever again! Don’t talk to me ever again!” Conrad flew to his door. He peered out from beyond the doorframe, only to see Margot throw her bedroom door open and grab a bag that had been on the ground. She threw the bag at Austin, who was chasing after her.
“Margot, I’m sorry! It didn’t even mean anything!” he said. She had been pulling cords out from the walls and throwing some of his shirts at him.
“No, fuck you. Fuck off. Go home,” she growled out.
“Margot-” Austin started. Conrad stepped out fully into the hallway and cleared his throat. Austin spun his head around.
“Hey, she asked you to leave,” Conrad said. “So I think you gotta go.”
Austin looked back over at Margot, whose lips were pressed tightly together. She simply shook her head at him. Austin let out a deep sigh. “All right, I’ll go,” he said. “I’ll- I’ll call you tomorrow.” He picked up some of the charging cables and clothes that had been thrown at him, and he shoved the items in his bag. He lifted the bag up his shoulders and walked down the stairs. When he was out of sight, Conrad spun around to look at Margot.
She was still standing in front of her bedroom. Her face was completely flat, but he could tell she was angry based on how heavy her breaths were.
“What happened?” Conrad asked.
She opened her mouth, then promptly closed it after letting out an exhale. She threw her hand over her face and just said, “He is such a motherfucker.”
Lexi flew up to the top of the stairs. Her eyes were wide as she took in Margot. “Stassi told me that you looked pissed. What happened?” she asked.
Margot shook her head. “Austin fucking cheated on me. I got a DM from a girl after I posted a photo of the two of us on Instagram together. Apparently, he hooked up with one of her friends four weeks ago, and they’ve been seeing each other while he’s been in California.”
“What the fuck?!” Lexi exclaimed.
“Shit, Margot, I’m so sorry,” Conrad said. He shoved all thoughts of Belly and Jeremiah aside, as he moved toward Margot. He and Lexi wrapped their arms around her. Margot cracked immediately, and she started crying. She was practically dry-heaving as she wracked out her sobs.
After a few minutes of them holding her up, her tears slowed down. She stepped away from both of them, then wiped underneath her eyelids, slightly smiling. “Now that’s the last time I’ll let myself cry over him or think about him,” she said. She threw her hands out. “Fuck him forever.”
“Are you sure?” Lexi asked. “It’s okay if you want to cry about it again.”
Margot shook her head. “No, it’s July 4th. I’m going to focus on having a good rest of the night.”
“Okay,” Lexi said, nodding her head and shooting Conrad a look.
They both walked down the stairs with Margot. When they reached the living room, Margot beelined to go get another drink at the bar.
“I got this,” Lexi said to Conrad, then followed after Margot.
He stood still in the hallway and took a minute to get readjusted to his surroundings. He could hear the bass drop as some Kesha song played in the backyard. He watched as the DJ bounced in the makeshift booth Emory assembled, and a crowd danced around him. Emory was deep in a conversation with a girl on their patio. He glanced further to Emory’s left, and he could make out Y/N near a lounge chair talking to Tess and Teddy.
A door opened down the hall and he glanced to his left. Stassi was walking out of Hale’s room. She gave him a small smile, before going upstairs. He noticed she was wiping tears.
It seemed like everyone was having a bad night.
All of the events from the summer hit him at once. He thought of telling Stassi to talk to Hale about how she felt, and how it motivated him to finally make a move on Y/N. He reminisced on how hopeful he got after his first date with Y/N. But then he would hear Jeremiah’s voice in his mind telling him, “You are one of the most selfish people I know!”
Maybe it wasn’t a permanent feeling of isolation that was interwoven in his DNA. Maybe he had been the problem all along. His grief rendered him into a person he didn’t even know anymore.
He started instinctively cleaning up the empty cans and cups in the backyard. At least the cleanliest of the house was something he could control.
***
At about 1 a.m., the last batch of people were clearing out of the house. Conrad had stopped drinking, and he was instead focusing on making sure the backyard was clear of any food items that would attract racoons or other animals.
Y/N walked up behind him and gave him a hug, but he felt numb to it. He simply gave her a smile, before finding another piece of trash to toss away.
“Hey, Lexi is going to stay in Margot’s room tonight, so my room is open again,” she said. She seemed slightly nervous as she was talking to him. “Do you still want me to stay in your room tonight? Or should I go back to my room?”
Conrad let out a long breath. It felt like too much to be around her at that moment. “I- I think you should stay in your room,” he said.
Her face fell. “Oh, okay,” she said.
“I’m sorry, I just- I think I’m gonna need some space for a while,” he said. “It’s- It’s nothing to do with you, I’m just gonna need a break.” He noticed there were tears glimmering in her eyes.
“It’s okay, I get it.” She promptly went back inside.
“Y/N,” he called out. It was too late. Conrad watched as she trudged up the stairs.
They didn’t say goodnight to each other that night. As Conrad climbed into his bed that night, he noticed the pillow on the left side of his bed smelled like Y/N.
***
The next morning, Conrad was one of the first ones awake. He was in the kitchen making coffee when Emory’s door swung open. The girl Emory was talking to last night stumbled out, and she gave Conrad a polite smile as she walked out of the house. Conrad laughed to himself, then flipped some of the French toast he was cooking. As he cooked, Jeremiah’s call replayed over and over again in his mind.
He just finished plating a whole stack of French toast for the house when Margot walked into the kitchen. She looked composed, though her eyes were puffy, likely from crying last night. She greeted him as she opened the fridge to grab some orange juice.
“Hey, I’m making some French toast, if you want some.” Her eyes brightened and she walked over to the stove to grab two pieces. “Feeling any better today?” he asked.
“Out of sight, out of mind,” she replied, as she walked over to a stool by the kitchen island. “At least, that’s what I’m going to keep telling myself.”
“Did you block him on social media?”
Margot shook her head. “Nope, I’m going to let him see what he fumbled.” He looked back at her, and she was grinning. “I’m determined to pull myself together. If not today, maybe tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to push yourself to be okay.”
“I know, but… I don’t want to spend the rest of our summer here groveling over a man who did me dirty like that,” she replied.
Conrad and Margot moved over to the couches to watch “Practical Magic,” Margot’s comfort movie, while the rest of the house slowly started waking up. He watched as his summer roommates stumbled into the kitchen. They were all quiet, especially Hale and Lexi. He noticed Lexi sharply inhale once Stassi walked into the room.
He glanced over at Margot, who was eyeing the interaction out of the corner of her eye. She made eye contact with Conrad and mouthed, “I’ll tell you later.”
He avoided looking at Y/N as she walked downstairs. He couldn’t bear to see the pain in her eyes. Margot was rambling about how she should never have dated a man.
He wasn’t paying attention when Stassi first started opening the bottle of the prosecco. At least, not until he heard a loud pop and Lexi yelp. Both he and Margot spun around, and saw Lexi clutching her side. The bottle of prosecco was fizzing onto the tile. Everyone had their mouths agape. Hale’s eyes were wide.
“Holy shit, are you okay?” Stassi asked, setting down the bottle and running over to Lexi.
“Did you do that on purpose?” Lexi demanded.
“No, no, I would never-”
“I’ve had it up to here with your shit, Stassi,” Lexi said, jutting her hand up. “And now you fucking bruise me?”
“That’s not-”
“You are such a fucking-”
By then, it was nearly impossible to discern what either of them were saying. They were yelling over each other, and it didn’t help that their voices sounded so similar.
“Whoa, whoa, WHOA. ENOUGH!” Emory called out, stepping in between them. The whole house was silent. No one had ever heard Emory raise his voice like that before. Conrad didn’t even think he’d ever heard Emory sound that serious before. They all stared at Emory as he clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut. He let out an exhale, then slowly opened his eyes. “House meeting, living room, everyone.”
They all quietly shuffled to sit with Margot and Conrad on the couches. Lexi plopped next to Margot, but Y/N sat on the opposite couch – right next to Tess and Stassi.
Once everyone was settled, Emory cleared his throat. “Everyone in this house has been weird and tense this morning. There’s whatever is going on between you three.” He gestured toward Lexi, Hale and Stassi. “Margot’s grumpy – and I get why. And Conrad and Y/N haven’t looked each other in the eye once all morning. This is not what I wanted this summer to be for any of us. This summer should be fun. It’s going to be one of the only summers we get to do this. Conrad and Teddy are going to be buried in their clinical rotations next year. Y/N is going to Brown. And who knows when we’ll be able to see Stassi again, since she’s always traveling the world?” He stood up and walked over to pick up a light up cowboy hat that had been on one of the bookshelves. “So, here’s the rule. Whoever has the cowboy hat gets to speak. Everyone is going to listen, and we’re not going to come for each other. Because, whether you like it or not, for this summer, we’re a family.” He lifted up the hat. “So, who wants to take it first?”
There was a beat of silence. Everyone stared at each other. Then, Margot lifted her hand.
“Okay, fuck it, why not, go ahead Margot,” Emory said, passing the hat over to her.
She placed it on her head. “I regret encouraging Lexi to pursue Hale, because the fight between Stassi and Lexi feels ridiculous. I’m sorry to my friend, but the problem is clearly Hale,” Margot immediately said. All three of them spun their heads around to face Margot.
“How am I the problem?” Hale scoffed.
“Hey,” Emory called out. “Only the person with the hat is allowed to speak.”
“Because you’re playing these two girls. I saw you at the party yesterday,” Margot continued. “You barely talked to Lexi, and the whole time, you were flirting with Stassi like you didn’t just toy with her heart a few months ago. And I get it, they are beautiful girls. I would want to be around both of them as much as possible, but it’s creating this divide in the house that’s so pointless.”
Stassi shook her head and raised her hand. Emory reached his hand out for the cowboy hat, and then handed it to Stassi. She cleared her throat. “I think that I messed everything up.” Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes. “Oh you know what, actually fuck off because-”
“OKAY!” Emory called out, plucking the hat off of Stassi’s head. “We’re going to come back to Stassi, Hale and Lexi.” He held out the hat toward Conrad and then Y/N. Neither of them leaned forward to grab it. “C’mon, it’s gotta be one of you. Everyone can tell something is off.”
Conrad still kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t sure where to even begin talking about what happened last night, and how it impacted his relationship with Y/N.
“Okay, I’ll go ahead and do it,” Y/N said, reaching out her hand. Emory passed her the cowboy hat. After it was on, Y/N said, “Conrad told me he wanted to go on a break last night. So, I don’t know, we decided we’re taking a pause on seeing each other. I don’t know if it means that we’re over.”
Conrad was surprised. He didn’t think of their encounter as a break up. He shook his head. “No, no. That’s not what I-”
Margot scrunched her eyebrows together, then looked over at Conrad. “Why did you do that?”
“I didn’t-” he started again.
“Okay, HAT! HAT ONLY,” Emory exclaimed again. The room was silent again. He waved to Y/N. “You may continue now.”
She shrugged. “That’s really all. I understand either way, and I just want him to be happy.” She took off the cowboy hat and passed it back over to Emory.
Emory held it out to Conrad. Conrad gulped. He looked over at Y/N. She appeared defeated as she curled up in her chair, staring at the hat.
“Conrad, c’mon, you know we wouldn’t judge you,” Margot said. His eyes snapped to her. She was lightly nudging him. “For some reason, you act like we’re all going to pull away at any moment, and none of us are. You can tell us what’s going on.” Teddy gave Conrad a quick nod.
So, he took a big inhale in, and he put on the hat. He started telling the group everything. He talked about his breakup with Belly, and how after watching Jeremiah and Belly kiss, he decided to pull away from his family. He told them about how he found out his dad cheated on his mom, and his brother continued that cycle. All the words he wanted to say over the past few years seemed to pour out of him, and his roommates sat there, listening attentively.
He started building the narrative of last night – seeing the text from Belly, and the subsequent phone call from Jeremiah. When it was time to talk about his panic attack, he was stuttering the words out. He tried to meet Y/N’s eyes, but she was looking at the ground.
“Y/N, when I saw you last night, I wasn’t trying to break up with you,” he said. “I’m sorry. I was overwhelmed and I needed to be alone. That was it. I wasn’t trying to end things at all. I don’t want to end things.”
Once he was done, he felt his shoulders sag. Margot was staring at him, frowning. It was different to be able to share everything he felt, without having someone yelling at him or berating him immediately after.
When he set the hat back down on the coffee table, Margot picked it up and placed it on her head.
“I don’t think you’re the selfish one, Conrad,” she said. “I think if anything, the problem is that you’re too selfless. You’re taking on too much of your brother’s pain to let yourself be happy. I think it’s your brother’s fault his relationship failed, because he literally cheated on her. Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have told her you loved her right before the wedding, but I think she still would have left him anyway.” She glanced over at Y/N. “I don’t think because of any of that you should have shut Y/N out. This relationship is something new that has nothing to do with your brother or your ex, and you have to think of it that way. It’s not fair to you or to her to let your past have such a hold on what’s going on with you now.”
Conrad nodded his head, digesting Margot’s words. He knew she was right. His therapist had told him as much over the years – that he needed to do a better job of opening up rather than quickly putting his guard up. He glanced back over at Y/N, who was now looking directly at him.
“Do you need the hat back, Y/N?” Emory asked. Y/N shook her head. He glanced back over at the trio that had already started arguing this morning. Lexi was still glaring at Stassi. “Okay, not getting to that one yet. Teddy, I’m gonna give you the hat.”
Teddy chuckled as the cowboy hat was placed on his head. “I don’t really know what to say. I want everyone to figure their stuff out. I truly think Conrad is into Y/N but he’s a really reserved person. I don’t know what’s going on with Lexi, Hale and Stassi at all, but I don’t think Stassi was intentionally trying to hurt you this morning, Lexi. Someone was fucking around with that bottle yesterday at the party. Uh, other than that, I love my girlfriend and I think she’s beautiful. I’ve had fun with you guys so far this summer, and I hope like Emory said, we can all keep having fun.” He handed the cowboy hat back to Emory.
“Okay, I-” He let out an exhale. “I think we’re ready to try one of you three again, but let’s like, try to talk to each other this time.”
“Remember what I said,” Margot said. Emory shot her a look as he offered the hat up.
Hale was the one to grab it. “I don’t actually think that this is all my fault. I tried to pursue Stassi years ago, and she rejected me and moved away. So, suddenly she tells me she has feelings for me and we hook up, but I’ve never known Stassi to stay and truly date someone. I didn’t think that was anything that would change anytime soon, and I don’t think I can take having my heart broken by Stassi again. Okay? Does that please everyone?” He practically flung the hat back toward Emory.
There was not one mention of Lexi. Conrad tried not to audibly wince.
Stassi reached for the hat. She glanced over at Lexi. “I wasn’t trying to sabotage your relationship.” Lexi scoffed. “No, Lexi, I swear. I have liked Hale for such a long time. It had nothing to do with you, and all of this started before we even got here.” She sighed. “To catch everyone up, last night, I told Hale that I was in love with him. I was talking to Conrad a few weeks ago, and he was talking to me about how he learned how important it is to say how you feel. I’ve been thinking about how I feel about Hale, and yesterday, after we started talking at the party, it really hit me that I don’t want to be away from him. I’m sorry. I should have talked to you, though, privately, or at least tried to form some bond with you. I get why you don’t like me.”
She took off the hat and handed it to Lexi, who already had her hand out expectantly.
“Look, I want to like you,” Lexi started. “I just have felt like you’ve been coming for me in some way or another all summer. First, I hear from Margot that on the night I kissed Hale, you were talking about how upset you were about it. You and I never talk about it once. Instead, it’s like talking to a brick wall every single time we even try to have a conversation. And then, last night happened. If I would’ve known you guys have such this intense crazy history, which evidently, doesn’t seem to be done either, then I wouldn’t have gotten myself involved in it in the first place. I don’t want to be some backburner choice, and honestly Hale, with what you just said, that’s kind of how you’re making me feel.” She took off the hat.
Tess cleared her throat and reached for the hat. “I think we’re starting to phase into the part where everyone has their own private conversation, rather than us all talking about it as a group. I think Y/N and Conrad should talk in private. And then the three of you guys have some stuff to figure out.” She pointed to Lexi, Hale and Stassi. “But I think Emory’s right that we should all get this hashed out, so we can move forward this summer and have some peace in the house.” She looked around the group. “Does everyone feel okay with that?”
“I definitely do,” Hale muttered, already standing up.
Margot nudged Conrad and jutted her chin toward Y/N. She was heading upstairs, likely to her room. So he stood up and started following her.
Her bedroom door was wide open. He knocked on the frame, but noticed she was sitting out on the balcony attached to her room. He mulled over whether he should walk out there, given he’d have to walk through her space to get the balcony. But he reflected on the advice he’d given Stassi earlier this summer – that it was always better to just say how you felt – and now, he’d witnessed through her situation the outcome of withholding those feelings. It gave him the courage to walk out to the balcony.
He opened up the door. Y/N was curled up on one of the outdoor couches. Her head quickly turned to look at him.
“Hey,” he said, giving her a small smile. She greeted him back, and he took it as permission to approach her cautiously. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you a little bit more about yesterday.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Listen, I meant what I said out there. I really wasn’t trying to end things with you.”
She nodded her head. “I- I know. I’m sorry. I think I just got freaked that you were leaving and I was a little drunk. After you said all that stuff today, I was going over our conversation again, and I realized that wasn’t what you were trying to say.” She sighed. “But I don’t know. Sometimes, my brain gets into this anxious state and I started writing this narrative in my head that we were over. I know I shouldn’t have assumed that. I should’ve tried talking to you. I think it was tougher, because after we had sex, I really felt like I was certain we were going to move toward being girlfriend and boyfriend officially. And then, after you said we needed a break, not even 24 hours after that, I kind of got scared.”
“Can I- Can I sit next to you?” he asked. She nodded her head, and he plopped down. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you question any of that. That night with you meant a lot to me, and I still want to be with you.” He cleared his throat. “I want to be really clear about this with you, because I don’t want you to guess what I’m thinking. And I tend to do that a lot – put people in positions where they’re guessing how I’m feeling. I really, really like you, Y/N, and not just in some summer fling way. I don’t want to let any of the stuff from my past compromise me from being happy anymore. And when I’m with you, I’m truly happy.”
She smiled. “I really like you too, and not just in a summer fling way either.”
He leaned back and started playing with his fingers. “Would you still want to be my girlfriend?”
She nudged him. “Is that your way of trying to ask me?”
He shook his head. “No, no. Sorry. Let me try that again.” He shifted his body slightly so he could face her. “Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”
She smiled. And then, she leaned forward and kissed him. He took the kiss as a yes.
***
They were giggling as they walked down the stairs later that day, hand in hand. Teddy raised his eyebrow as they entered the living room.
“You guys are good?” he asked. They both looked at each other and nodded their heads.
Both Stassi and Lexi walked out of Hale’s room. They were both beaming and joking with each other. It was such a shift from their behavior this morning. They also stopped in the living room.
“So, it looks like everyone figured their stuff out,” Conrad said, smiling at the two of them.
Emory popped out of his bedroom. “Wait, really? I can’t believe that worked. What happened?”
Lexi and Stassi looked at each other. “Well… we’re a throuple now!” Stassi said. Conrad’s jaw dropped, then he quickly shut it.
“Wait, what? What did you just say?” Emory asked. The two girls were giggling.
Lexi eventually shook her head. “We were kidding,” she said. “We all kind of decided to put things on pause and focus on being friends for a bit. It’s the best thing for everyone, at least until we all move out of the house.”
“So… should we have drinks tonight to celebrate?” Emory asked. “Like everyone being good?”
Half of the group groaned. “Emory, we’re still hungover,” Teddy said.
Emory shrugged. “So? It’s the best way to get over it.”
After enough convincing, they all agreed. So, later that night, the nine of them sat out in the lounge chairs in their backyard, clad in their swimsuits and with spritzes in hands. Emory grabbed the speaker again and started playing “She’s a Rainbow” by The Rolling Stones as a way of referencing the first time the group all hung out together.
Y/N was sharing one of the lounge chairs with Conrad. She was curled up on his chest while the group all chatted and joked with each other. He looked down at her, reminiscing on how taken aback he was when he first saw her. He pressed a light kiss to her forehead and held her tightly.
He surveyed his house full of roommates. Margot was in the middle of telling a story about how she should have known Austin wasn’t her person, while the rest of the group was listening closely. For the first time in weeks, Stassi and Lexi were seated next to each other, giggling as they listened to Margot talk. Hale cracked open a beer, and he clinked it against Emory’s glass as he sat back down on one of the lounge chairs. Tess and Teddy were also cuddling, giving small glances at each other as they listened to the story.
For the first time in a long time, Conrad felt like he was truly a part of something. He belonged. Maybe his brother was still mad at him, and maybe he still wouldn’t be able to go back to Cousins Beach next summer. But this moment, with Y/N and the rest of his roommates, was enough.
YouTube Shorts (yes, I’m a loser like that) decided to show me a few clips of tsitp and my Conrad love came back with vengeance.
Needless to say, this beautiful work of art greatly helped quench the urge to read a Conrad fic (it also greatly affected my sleep as it is now almost 6 am)
✦Clark Masterlist - Read on a03! - Main Masterlist✦
✦pairing: Clark Kent x female!reader✦
✦summary: You meet Clark Kent and Superman within the same week. Fall for them at the same time. Then put two and two together, and realize that maybe for once, you can have a good thing.✦
✦warnings/tags: civilian!reader, friends to lovers, insecurity, light angst, fluff, pining, shenanigans, love confessions, shameless smut (dry humping, slight body worship, dirty talk, fingering, p in v), no use of y/n✦
✦author's note: This takes place in a alternate world where Clark and Lois just never happened, because I will not stand for girlboss slander. Enjoy!✦
It’s one of those warm night that makes everything wet. Sweat sticking under your clothing and hair to your brow. The ground slick with dew and making you trip every five steps. The fog so dense that seeing more than a foot in front of you is nothing short of a miracle. The city buzzing around you, but in nothing more than a hazy, neon glow.
It’s rarer, in Metropolis, for these kinds of nights to happen. It’s something you’d expect from Gotham, or the upstate country sides.
But it’s here, and you’re going to punch a brick wall.
Walking alone is already something that sucks. Everyone tends to let their guard down and fuck around like idiots, thinking that Superman is just going to fall out of the sky and save them.
And he probably will.
But being saved by Superman is always a whole thing. People post a video of the rescues online if they can get one, and then suddenly you’re getting an exhaustive, unwelcome fifteen minutes of fame. The news wants to talk to you. Brands are reaching out to be sponsored by “Superman”—or at least someone who’s touched him, which they think is enough—and people are recreating your rescue as videos for clicks and likes.
It sounds like a fucking nightmare. At least if you get mugged you only have to talk to insurance.
And you’re not a helpless baby. You’re prepared, and alert, and lived in Gotham. Once a Poison Ivy burst into apartment, told you that your landlord had been secretly using doing illegal things with energy—either stealing it or using it too much, you hadn’t really been paying attention—and for some reason you had to die about it.
Compared to that, one person with a gun and shine of desperation in their eyes wasn’t much to be afraid of.
You’d be fine.
So you walk home from work every night—a hand tight on your bag and eyes scanning around the dark—and it hasn’t gone wrong yet.
But you also haven’t had a night like this one.
And when you hear the click of a gun, from a darker alleyway to your side, you’re more disappointed than anything else.
“Give- Lady, hey-“ A skinnier kid—with his hair ragged around his face and his fingers shaking slightly—slides out of the dark. “Stop walkin’, and give me your money.”
You turn with a sigh, tilting your head at him and squinting through the dark. “Just my money?”
The kid blinks at you. “Yes?”
That’s easy then. “Alright.”
“Alright? You’re just-“ The kid frowns. “You’re going to give it to me?”
“Well, what happens if I don’t?”
“I shoot you through the head and take it anyway?”
You give him a pointed look, and the kid scowls, cocking the gun.
“Are you trying to get smart with me, lady? That what this is? Some fucking mind trick?”
“Me?” You point at yourself in mock innocence, and shrug. “I would never. Do you want the coins as well?”
“I- Yeah.” The kid spits on your feet, and it seems more like a defensive mechanism than anything else. “Yes. Give me everything you’ve fucking got.” Then, as a last afterthought, he adds, “Bitch.”
“Hey.” You frown at him, hand stuck in your purse. “That’s pretty fucking rude. I’m being cooperative.”
The kid stares at you for a second, then shakes himself, raising the gun higher. “You got like a fuckin’ death wish, lady?”
“Not right now, no.”
“Jesus fucking- Stop being a bitch, and just give me your fuckin’-“
You never get to know exactly what the kid wanted you to do, because a lot of things happen at once.
Superman drops out of the sky, landing between you and the kid.
You grab your pepper spray out of the bad, using it liberally on the air and stepping off to the side, behind Superman’s back.
The kid fires his gun with a shout of pain as the chemicals hit him, hand blindly following your path behind Superman.
The shot echoes through the alley, making you wince slightly, but the bullet just crumples against Superman’s chest. The kid has ended up shaking and crying on the ground, the pepper spray quickly dissipating into the thick fog, and you sigh, tucking the empty container back into your bag.
“Alright, buddy.” You step out from behind Superman with a frown, kneeling down at the kid’s side. “Let’s see who you are.”
You roll him over as he whines in pain, and makes a weak attempt to shove you away that you dodge.
“Hey.” Superman’s voice cuts through the air, and it’s somehow deeper and higher than you thought it would be, all at once. You’ve heard him give interviews, in those on the street videos when someone gets lucky enough to corner him and ask for his favorite soup or whatever. In person, it feels slightly different.
Less god-like.
When you look up at him with a frown, he looking between you and the kid like he’s not quite sure what to do.
“That’s pretty rude, trying to hit someone who’s helping you.” He says, taking a step forward towards the kid. “And you,” he turns, his eyes seeming to shine in the low, misting light as they land on you. “Pepper sprayed me.”
You shrug. “And? You’re fine.”
“You didn’t know I would be fine-“
“I didn’t know you’d be here.” You look back to the kid, who seems to have resorted to just curling into a little ball. “And he shot you, if we’re keeping count.”
“We’re, uh- Not.” Superman clears his throat, and you can hear him walking closer behind you. “You can go, ma’am. I’ll take it from here.”
“I’m okay, thanks.” You keep rolling the kid until he’s on his side, and you can pull out his wallet.
Superman freezes. “Miss, if you’re stealing from him I have to-“
“I’m not stealing from him.” You roll your eyes, and Superman pauses, before muttering-
“It sort of looks like you’re stealing from him.”
You hum, pulling out the thick card of the kid’s driver’s license, and holding it up to the light. “That sounds like a you problem.”
Superman coughs, not taking off into the night to look for more crime, for some reason. You’re not really sure what he’s still doing here at all.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step back, please. This man is in medical distress, and I need to get him to a hospital.”
“Don’t take him to the hospital.” You mutter, and Superman frowns, kneeling down across from you.
“Listen, I understand that he just did something that caused you distress, but he’s still a person. He deserves the same care as anyone else, even if he’s made mistakes-“
“Yeah, I know that, dummy.” You roll your eyes, dropping the ID back into his wallet. “But this is a fake. And he doesn’t have an insurance card.”
Superman stares at you. “And?”
“He won’t be able to afford the hospital. This Fake ID is shit, he probably can’t even afford the pudding in the hospital cafeteria.” You tuck the man’s wallet back into his pants, then wrap your arms around his torso. “There’s a shelter, three blocks down. He should go there.”
You grunt, trying to drag him up, but you barely get him an inch off the ground before Superman’s jumping in, grabbing the man and pulling him into his arms, bridal style.
“Three blocks down?” He asks you, and you nod, wiping your hands on your legs.
“Yeah. Don’t tell them the mugging, though.”
“Why-“
“They’ll legally have to hand him over to the cops after.”
“And you… don’t want them to?”
“No.” You look up at Superman with a tight glare. “Do you?”
He’s not glaring at you. Superman is looking at you with an open, almost curious expression, his head titled to the side and lips in a strange sort of pout.
It hits you a little like lightning, how he does look like only a man—he’s got all the fearless humans have—but there’s something more. His skin is clear, posture perfect, and in the glow of the streetlamps, there’s a strange sort of angelic halo around his body.
And he’s handsome.
You’ve seen photos. You watch the news. You’ve been at work and listened to the interns fawn about how hot Superman is, and how they hope they need help because they’d love to be saved by him, but it’s just different in person. Striking, a little mind numbing, and making your skin buzz because he’s staring at you.
You wish he’d stop. It’s making you dizzy.
“No.” He says softly. “I don’t.”
“Alright then.” You cross your arms, raising your chin at him. He doesn’t just get to make you feel gooey with his eyes. “We’re in agreement.”
Superman chuckles, and that just makes your face heat more. “Yeah, I guess we are. Would you like an escort home, ma’am?”
“A- What?”
“May I walk you home.” He holds your gaze, and you might be about to burst into flames. “We can drop this man off together. I don’t think it’s that safe for you to be walking alone at night, even in a city as nice as ours.”
You swallow. “I have pepper spray.”
“You have empty pepper spray. That can will be useless, and I think you know that.”
“Well, I-“ You scowl, adjusting your jacket and standing up a little. He’s so fucking tall. It’s hard to intimidate someone so stupidly tall. “I don’t live very far. I’ll be fine. Goodnight, Superman.”
He blinks at you, opening and closing his mouth once, then bows his head. “Goodnight, ma’am.”
Part of you wants him to stop calling you ma’am. You’re not a fucking ma’am, even if the gentleness and respect in his voice is making you feel even more lightheaded.
So you turn on your heels, and march out of the alley like nothing ever happened at all.
But you can still feel it.
Superman’s gaze.
When you glance over your shoulder—because you’re an idiot—he’s watching you walk away, the fog almost seeming to part just long enough for your eyes to connect, before he vanishes into the dark.
———
“You can’t say that.” One of your co-workers mutters, crossing out something on the paper before looking up at you with a sigh of your name. “You know you can’t say that. Last time Ms. Lane had to stop you from saying it. Do you know how bad it has to be for her to do that?”
You shrug, rocking the chair the chair your foot is resting on back and forth. “That’s not my fault, I didn’t make her.”
“You’re dodging the question.” Your coworker gives you a flat look, and you just smile in return.
“I’ve never dodged a question in my life.”
She sighs your name again, and shakes her head. “Just- don’t say it. We’ll get sued into the next century, you know that, and Luther doesn’t fuck around-“
“I don’t fuck around.” You mutter, spinning your pen in your hands. “And you know we’d win if we tried. It’s not defamation if it’s true, and his reputation is already so damaged he’d have no proof that my remarks caused his stocks to tank lower than hell-“
“Just don’t say it. Please.”
You roll your eyes. “Fine. I won’t say the factually correct thing about how Luther is such a pathetic man-baby he’s been keeping a harem of ex-girlfriends, and everything he says about Superman is just what’s true about himself, he just can’t see it because whenever he looking in the mirror because he only sees the glare of his bald head.”
Your coworker sighs, right as the door pushes open. “Thank you for not saying it.”
“Listen, I’m so sorry I’m late.” A large, dark haired man with glasses and sharp jawline drops across from you, chair spinning as he gives you an apologetic look. “I just lost track of the time, thought this floor was the next floor, and- Gosh, I’m so sorry, I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”
You frown at him, opening your mouth, but your words die as he stares at you. He’s acting like he’s looking at a ghost, with wide eyes and a startled flinch. He’s still holding his briefcase, grip white-knuckled, and your frown deepens.
Your co-worker clears her throat, and the man’s attention shoots away from a second.
It leaves you oddly cold.
“We haven’t been waiting long at all, Mr. Kent.” She gives the man a sweet smile, and he returns it in a second. “You actually just gave us enough time to finish our briefing.”
“Oh, well, that’s good, isn’t it?” He looks to you with another nervous expression, pushing his glasses up his nose, and your frown deepens. “Are you ready then, miss?”
“She’s all yours.” Your co-worker beams, shooting to her feet, and right before she leaves the conference room, you get a firm glare and a mouthed don’t fucking say it.
You ignore her. You’re not going to say it. And if you do, it will be naturally in the conversation, wherever it may come up.
The man is fumbling, across the table. Pulling out his notebook and laptop with clumsy hands, clearing his throat and straightening his tie, shooting you an nervous look every few moments, as if you’re going to jump across the table and bite him or something.
You lean forward, tilting your head, and he sits up straight.
“It’s nice to meet you, miss-“
“You’re not Lois.” You say, voice flat, and his ears turn red.
“Lois is, uh- She’s busy.”
“Busy?”
“Sick.” He mutters, pushing up his glasses again. “She caught something, in that bad weather we’ve been having. She’s very sorry she can’t make it, though.” He gives you a small, charming smile. “Gave me a whole speech about how you’re her favorite, and if I mess this up, she’ll strangle me.”
You hum, scanning over him wordlessly. It’s a strategy that works with almost everyone, staying silent until they get uncomfortable and blurt something. Something that, usually, tells you enough about them to sketch out a picture that lets you color in the lines how you want. When you’d used it on Lois, she’d stared back at you before asking if you were trying to intimidate her. When you’d met the Boravian president, he’d asked if they’d sent a mute to interview him and make him look like some sort of fool.
This man—Kent, your co-worker had called him—is just staring at you right back. Not uncomfortably, but silently. He’s fiddling with his pen and holding your gaze, waiting for you to break the silence.
You never break the silence. That’s losing.
Kent doesn’t seem like he’s trying to win, though. He just seems like he’s trying to be polite.
And after about five minutes of staring at each other in silence, he clears his throat, and frowns at you.
“Do you want some water? Or to call Lois? She can vouch for me, I promise.” He chuckles. “Actually, she’ll probably say I’m an okay journalist, and that I’m asking the questions she wrote.” He pauses, then holds up his notepad. “I am asking the questions she wrote. If that makes this better.”
It doesn’t.
But now you know what Kent is like.
Polite, gentle, kind.
You can work with that.
“I’m good, thank you.” You give him a sweet, slightly mocking smile, and he returns it with the same charming grin from before.
It’s throwing you off. You can’t be cool and collected and sharp, here. With Lois it’s like sparring.
With Kent, it’s just making you feel like a bitch.
“Great, then are we ready to- Oh shoot, Wait-“ He reaches back into his bag, then pulls out a tape recorder with a sheepish grin. “Almost forgot. Gosh, Lois would’ve killed me.” He places the recorder between you, and gives you another nervous grin. “Now, are you ready to get started?”
You nod, and he hits the record button. You’re silent as he rattles off the date and time, who you are—top human right lawyer, heavily involved in negotiations with the United Sates government about aide to Jarhanpur and immigration protections of Jarhanpurian refugees—and who he is.
Clark Kent. Reporter for the Daily Planet, sitting down for a conversation about the recent developments with Lex Luther using surveillance technology to tip off Immigration authorities about illegal refugees.
He gives you another handsome smile, before he asks the first question. You just stare at him. He doesn’t get to use his pretty face to throw you off your game.
“So,” he glances down at his notepad, then back to you. “You’re suing the United States government for unconstitutional detainment of Jarhanpurian journalist, claiming they were both complicit in and knowingly funded the unlawful imprisonment that goes against their first amendment right to free press. Is this correct?”
You nod. “Yes, Mr. Kent, it is.”
“Great. Um-“ He flips his notepad, squinting at the words. “The United States had claimed that they had no knowledge of Luther’s methods, and says that they never once paid him to contain a private American citizen. They also stated that, if they did use Luther to hold someone, they were not aware that their funding for his research was helping him to contain people for other countries. So…” He gives you another nervous smile. “What do you say to that?”
“I say that the government is not known for being truthful about their dealings, Mr. Kent.” You raise your brows at him. “At the very least, we know they paid to have Luther contain Superman. That alone indicates that they were aware of the security of his pocket dimension. And I also happen to have several victims of the holding, all legal immigrants from Jarhanpur who were critics of Boravia, who were kept in Luther’s harem jail.”
Kent frowns at you. “Harem jail?”
Shit. “There have been allegations that he used it imprison ex-girlfriends.”
“So you…” Kent’s lips twitch. “Call it a harem jail?”
“Yep.” You give him a challenging look. “And?”
“Nothing.” He looks down at his paper again, ears red. “Just sort of graphic, I think.”
“Graphic-“
“But funny.” He gives you a small grin, pushing up his glass again. “I think it’s funny.”
There’s a fuzzy, warm feeling, over your skin. You don’t fucking appreciate it. “Oh. Thanks.”
He grins. “No problem. Uh- Right. There we were-“
Kent keeps asking you Lois’ questions, and while he doesn’t really have the edge that works you both up until she asks a hard hitter and you knock it out of the park, he’s not the worst to work with. He doesn’t fuck up the questions. He asks a few follow ups about crime rates and the responsibility of the United States to regulate business’. He even asks a pretty good question about the ethics Luther using federal funding when he’s a billionaire, and seems to have come up with it himself.
He’s certainly better than almost any male journalist you’ve worked with. He doesn’t talk over you, or question your qualifications, or do anything but listen and nod like you’re saying something fascinating. You’re really not. You’re using words that are too big and talking too fast and discussing the constitution, one of the most boring topics of conversation.
But he’s still looking at you as if you’re doing Circe de Solie tricks in this bland little conference room.
He laughs at a few of your jokes, and it makes you buzz again.
At one point, you go to the bathroom, and when you get back he’s gotten you both cups.
You lean over it, then look back up to Kent. “What’s this?”
“Uh- Water?” He glances down at the cup, then you. “I figured after going to the bathroom, you might need to stay hydrated.”
That’s such a strangely fucking good thing to do. It’s making your heart beat too fast. “And if I say I just took a shit?”
Kent blinks. “I can get you a snack?”
You snort, and that seems to make him relax again. His shoulder slump and his eyes fucking sparkle like a cartoon character, when you take a sip of his water.
He’s like a fucking puppy turned into a human. You might be able to see his tail wagging.
“Alright, Kent.” You set the water down. “Let’s keep-“
“Clark.” He says suddenly, wincing to himself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you but- Clark is alright. You can call me Clark.”
You stare at him, and he turns a little red.
“It’s my first name.”
“Yeah, I figured out that one myself.”
“Oh. Okay. Good.” He looks back down to his notepad, adjusting his tie like it’s burning him through the suit. “So- Next question is- Oh this is a good one. I mean, it’s rougher, but Lois told me you’re… Uh-“ He turns red again. “Never mind-“
“No.” You cut him off, leaning forward. “You don’t get to say Lois called me something then not tell me. What.”
He won’t look you in the eyes. “Just that you’re a little bit of a masochist. And that you were going to be… vulgar enough to make me blush.”
You laugh, soft and through your nose, and Clark looks at you nervously. “That’s it?”
“Uh- Yeah?”
“That’s nothing,” you wave him off, leaning back in your chair. “I thought you were going to say she called me a cunt or something.”
Clark gapes at you. “Gosh, no, she adores you. Told me she’d strangle me, if I messed it up-“
“I know.”
He frowns. “How?”
“You told me earlier.”
“Oh. I did, didn’t I. Darn it.” He gives you another nervous smile. “Sorry about that. Did I tell you about how she also said she’d dump boiling soup on me? And that it was the soup I made her.”
You smile, and it feels a little too wide and toothy, but Clark doesn’t move away. “No, you didn’t.”
“Well, she did. And I don’t think she’d ever call you a- That. You don’t seem like one at all?”
You raise your brows. “I don’t?”
“No, you seem like a… Ah- A really lovely lady.”
It’s hard not to laugh at that, even if Clark looks genuinely confused by your reaction.
“Okay, Kent-“
“Clark.” He corrects with a mumble, eyes bright and almost curious on yours, and now you feel warm.
“Clark.” You keep it together. He does not get to fuck you up. “What’s the good questions.”
“Right. Sorry, um-“ His eyes dart down to the notepad. “A lot of people are worried that by letting Jarhanpurian citizens and journalists into the country, we’re taking away jobs away from American’s and giving these immigrants shelter when they only bring danger. What would you like to say, to American’s who believe that?”
“That our country is built on the backs of immigrants.” You answer smoothly. “And the idea that they only bring danger is a frighteningly xenophobic myth that’s simply easy to believe. Lex Luther is an American citizen, and he nearly split Metropolis in half. Superman is, in all essence of the law, an illegal immigrant, and he’s saved countless lives. It’s the person, not their origin or government, who decides what they are. And the Jarhanpurian refugees have come here to be the good, strong and kind people they want to be. It is our job to protect them, and so far, we are the ones who have failed.”
Clark stares at you for a long, strange moment as your answer hangs in the air. For a second, you think he’s going to argue, or offer a counter question.
Instead he just clears his throat, turns off the recorder, and smiles at you.
“Thank you for talking to me,” he says your name with a warm smile, and the air feeling strangely light, when you take his hand.
It’s big and warm.
You have to bit your tongue as he smiles, because it’s making you want to smile back.
And when Clark walks away after a few more formal pleasantries, you’re just standing in the center of the room. He’s said your name in a deep, rich way that made your heart skip and breath hitch. He’d grinned and you’d felt warm, like a fucking idiot. Your goddamn knees feel sort of weak, because you’d been able to feel his heat from across the table.
Or that’s just still in you. Burning up from where your hands had connected, and through your whole body.
It’s a good thing you’ll probably never have to see him again.
You never want to feel that soft and dizzy, for a long, long time.
———
There’s a thud on the pavement behind you, and you don’t think before you react.
Your hand shoots into your purse, wrapping around your pepper spray, and you turn on your heels.
Right before you spray it, a big hand wraps around your wrist, and Superman takes the can from you with a small frown.
“Sorry.” He lets go of your wrist. “You just got it replaced, and I didn’t want you to use it for no reason. I’ve heard those things are expensive.”
They are.
You still scowl at him.
“Are you stalking me?”
He blinks, eyes widening. “No, I’m not. Swear on it. Superman’s honor.”
He places a hand over his heart with a grin, and you frown at him.
“It’s scouts honor.”
“I was never a scout, miss.” He gives you a small grin. “I don’t want to dishonor their badge.”
“Their scout badge?”
He nods, and you huff in amusement, shoving the pepper spray into your purse.
“Sure. Why not.”
“Well, those boys work very hard-“
“Most of them are rich kids whose parents can afford scouts.” You say dryly, and Superman frowns at the air.
“Huh. I suppose you’re right about that.”
“I know I’m right about it.” You wrap your arms around your stomach, frowning at him. “If you’re not stalking me, what are you doing here.”
“I’m… checking on you.” He gives you a bright, charming grin. “Just making sure you’re holding up well, after last week. Seeing if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
“To help me.” You narrow your eyes, and he keeps grinning.
“I think so. Doesn’t seem to be anyone else.”
You hum, staring at him, and he just stares right back.
It’s too long, that it takes him to break. And he breaks just like Clark Kent did, yesterday. Not with a nervous expression or uncomfortable shift.
Just with worry. Which makes you feel fuzzy.
Jesus fucking Christ, you can’t handle doing this twice.
“Are you feeling safe, walking home? Would you want- Maybe have a driver?”
“Could you get me a driver?”
“No.” He gives you another smile, and now you feel gooey. “But I could walk you home. To make you feel safe.”
“Hm.” You raise your chin, and he quickly adds. “Do you do that for everyone whose muggings you crash?”
“I mean, normally people call it saving.” He frowns, and you scoff.
“You didn’t save me. I was fine.”
“No- I mean, yes, you were, but I still helped.”
“How?”
Superman blinks at you. “I carried the guy. He’s okay, by the way, in case you were worried-“
“I wasn’t.” You shrug, holding his gaze. “I checked on him in the morning.”
“Oh. Good. Of course you did.”
Of course you did.
He says it like it’s a fact. He doesn’t even fucking know you.
“What does that mean-“
“Do you want me to walk- Sorry.” Superman sighs as you speak over each other, bowing his head. “You first.”
You stare at him, scanning over handsome features in the dark, and there’s something. It’s scratching at the back of your head, and it doesn’t have a voice yet, but it’s there. He’s being too kind, it’s odd. And he’s making your head feel a little light, and maybe you need to call the Metropolis facilities department, because there must be something in the water if you’re feeling this way twice in a week.
“Are you actually going to walk me home?” You ask, trying to make your voice venomous, the kind of predator’s warning that makes people back away and leave you to keep walking, alone in the dark.
If you succeed, it doesn’t seem to work on Superman.
“If you want me to, yes, I will.” He smiles at you, and it seems to light up the whole street.
You can’t look at it too long. Your knees will start to feel weak.
“Alright. Fine.” You turn on your heels, not looking back. “Let’s go.”
“Let’s- Okay. Let’s go.” Superman echoes your words, quickly catching up to walk at your side.
You walk in silence for a few minutes, and it’s the kind of silence that leaks. That makes everything else feel bigger and quieter, until your breathing is shallower and your skin is prickling, and if there’s not something to fill up the creaks and horns of the night, you’re going to lose your fucking mind.
Superman isn’t even doing anything to make it worse. He’s just walking at a respectful distance next to you, looking around the streets like it’s all the most interesting thing he’s ever seen, and you want to punch him in the face.
“Is this all you do?” You blurt, and he looks at you with a curious expression.
“No? I mean, sometimes I fly-“
“Not walk.” You sigh, looking back out into the night. “Like- Aren’t there robberies and murders for you to be stopping?”
He pauses, tilts his head, then clicks his tongue. “I can’t hear any, no.”
“Can’t hear any.” You mutter under your breath, and he shrugs.
“Well, I have super senses, including hearing, and-“
“I know about the hearing, Supes. I just think it’s ridiculous.”
Superman blinks at you. “I- Ridiculous seems like a strong word-“
“It’s just- It’s not ridiculous. Well, it is, but-“ You sigh, glaring down at your nails like it’s their fault you’re fucking up your words around the pretty alien. “It’s crazy. To be able to hear a robbery across the city.”
“I can’t control it-“
“I know.” You shrug. “It’s just hard to imagine. I think it would overwhelm me, and I’d put a screwdriver through my head.”
“Oh.” Superman chuckles, and it’s a deep, low sound that feels like it fucking rolls through the night, and vibrates in your chest. “It can get overwhelming, I suppose. It’s just how I always am. Always have been.” He pauses, and you can feel his attention. “For me, not being to hear everything sounds terrifying.”
You hum. “Have you ever heard people have like- The loudest fucking sex?”
He coughs, and when you look over, his ears seem a little red. “Yes, but- I’ve sort of learned to tune out the grosser things.”
“Right.” You pause, then frown at him. “Do you poop?”
“Do I poop?”
“You’re Kryptonian, I don’t know how your bodily functions work.”
“They’re mostly similar to humans.” He says, amusement obvious in his voice. “Almost entirely similar, actually.”
You nod, looking back ahead. “So you do poop.”
“Yes. I poop.”
“Fascinating. I have a reporter friend.” You grin to yourself. “I’m going to sell that fact to her for a million dollars.”
Superman laughs again. He needs to stop doing that. “Something tells me she won’t be interested in that scoop.”
There’s a long beat, and you look back to see him grinning at you, wide and proud.
You groan.
“That’s fucking horrible.”
“You smiled-“
“I did not-“
“Yes, you did. I saw it. It was on your face, and it was a smile.”
“On my face is where all smiles happen- And it wasn’t a smile.” You glare at him, stopping in your tracks. “That was an awful joke. Zero out of ten.”
Superman mock flinches. “Ouch. That low?”
“Yeah. You should be sent to space jail.” You glance behind you. “And- This is me.”
“Oh.” He looks at the building, then back to you. “And you’re not just pretending it’s your building because of what just happened?”
That time, you do actually smile. “No, I’m not.”
He nods, then gives you another one of those knee-weakening smiles. “Well then, have a good night…”
There’s a long silence, and you never told him your fucking name.
You do, with your arms crossed over your chest, and he echoes it back.
Your stupid heart skips.
And he waits for you to go inside, before he takes off. Waits all the way until you’re in your apartment, and you lean out the window to wave at him mockingly, because he can hear you. He knows you’re inside.
He waves, grins at you, and shoots off into the night
You stand stupidly at the window, for a moment.
It’s just bad luck, twice in one week. Kent and Superman, making your breath hitch and body warm. It probably really is just something in the water.
So you close the curtains, and just pray this isn’t the kind of thing that comes in threes.
———
Someone shouts your name, and you’re not fast enough to dive behind the potted plant and make them think you pulled a magic trick.
You don’t want to talk to anyone. It’s too early to speak, too public to have to play nice about everything, too loud to do anything but press yourself against the wall of the little cafe and drink your coffee.
They haven’t even gotten your muffin yet.
You just want your fucking muffin.
Instead you have to just stare at the floor, hoping your lack of acknowledgment will make whoever knows you here think you have headphones in or something.
It almost works.
The person says your name again, then pauses. “I think she can’t hear me?”
“I, uh- I’m not sure.” Another voice—this one sending warm little shivers through your body, and Jesus Christ not again—mutters, a little lower than the first. “I think she just doesn’t want to be bothered, Jimmy.”
“Really? No, I think she can’t hear me.” Jimmy repeats your name, touching your shoulder lightly, and now you have to pretend you never heard him in the first place.
You look up with what had to be a horribly fake expression of surprise, your fingers curling on your coffee cup. “Oh. Hi, Jimmy, when did you get here?”
Fuck, that’s such a bad fucking lie. Somehow, Jimmy, with his million-dollar toothy grin and sweet freckled face, is buying it.
The guy standing over his shoulder, who gave you those stupid shivers, looks a little less convinced. Mostly nervous, like he’s caught the lie but doesn’t really want to fucking do anything about it.
And the good news is, these things don’t come in threes.
The bad news is, they come in two that just keep fucking popping up in your life. Like tall, hot weeds with puppy faces and deep voices and probably abs, given how he’s filling out that shirt.
You stare at Clark Kent.
He stares back at you, face a little red and mouth hanging slightly open.
“Hi.” You say, voice a little blanker and awestruck than you wanted—it doesn’t crack, but it does have a breathlessness that you don’t really fucking appreciate—and his smile is small, but genuine.
Which is really fucking annoying.
“Hey. I, uh- I like your pants.” He pushes his glass up his nose, still smiling at you, and Jimmy groans.
“Jesus, Clark, we gotta work on your compliments, Buddy.” He gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, he was raised in a barn. He only knows how to flirt with like, cows. I’m working on it.”
Clark turns a shade of red that’s almost impressive, right as your face heats, and before either of you can protest, Jimmy’s pushing on.
“We have so much to catch up on, I was going to ask Lois to have you come out with us, but then she went and got herself sick. Which was really annoying because I had to deal with Clark’s twenty questions about interviewing, something he’s supposed to already know how to do.”
“I don’t usually do high profile people.” Clark mumbles, and Jimmy gives him a flat look.
“You interview Superman, dude.”
“Well, uh- That’s different? He’s a chill guy, all he does is like, save squirrels, that’s different than law stuff.” He grins at you again, and it’s still charming and attractive and dumb. “Your stuff is smarter. Above the Superman league.”
You can’t stop from smiling back. It’s not fair, how he does that. Maybe he’s a secretly meta with the ability to make people smile.
“That’s a little better, buddy.” Jimmy claps Clark back on the back, and it somehow manages to make the tower of a man stumble slightly. “See, my classes are working! Soon we’re going to have you on these streets, picking up ladies left and right.”
Clark sighs, shooting you a nervous look. “Jimmy, I’ve told you I don’t- That’s not what I’m trying to-“
“You don’t have to try, Clark. I mean,” he says your name, and it can’t take this long to get you a muffin. “Look at this face. I know I’d kiss it-“
“How do you get your interviews with Superman?” You raise your voice over Jimmy—this really isn’t a conversation you want to have right now—and Clark stares at you.
“What, uh- What do you mean? I just- We’ve built a relationship, that’s it-“
“Like how do you find him.” You keep our voice steady and bored. “Does he just appear on the street next to you? Or have, like- A key to your apartment?”
Jimmy snorts. “I don’t think Clark is dating Superman, if that’s what you’re getting out. Our guy is way out of that Kryptonian’s league.
Clark blushes again “Well, I- Uh- I don’t think that’s true-“
“Do you call for him? Does he have a phone number?” You keep pushing, and Clark shakes his head.
“No- I mean- Yes-“ He sighs, running a hand over his face. “He doesn’t have a phone number, but I just sort of call for him, and he hears me and shows up.”
Jimmy’s eyes widen. “Oh, cool. Can I be there next time you call for him?”
“Well- He doesn’t like other people being there. For security. One at a time.”
You frown. “He’s bulletproof, why does he need security?”
Clark stares at you. “That’s- A really good question. I’ll be sure to ask him next time.”
There’s a long silence, as you and Clark stare at each other, ended only by the barista calling your name for your muffin.
You promise Jimmy that you’ll go out for drinks with him, before you walk away.
You can feel Clark’s warm, curious stare, all the way until you walk outside.
And it might be branded on you, because you feel it a long while after as well.
———
“Superman?”
You call up to the sky, and you’re met with only whistling wind and the distance sound of car horns.
“Superman!” You raise your voice, wrapping your arms around your stomach to stop the chill of the wind, and still nothing.
You’re alone. You’re calling him, like Clark does. And unless he’s already forgotten you, he has to be at least curious what you’re doing on the roof, calling his name.
But there’s nothing. Not even a whoosh or streak of red in the distance, showing you that he’s busy or circling around you like a bird or something.
“Superman, can you please-“ You sigh. This is so fucking stupid. “Can you come here, please?”
Silence.
You walk slowly to the edge of the roof, frowning out over the city skyline, and nothing’s even attacking right now. It’s not like he has a fucking day job to be occupied with, he’s Superman.
And it’s pretty fucking rude that he’ll show up for Clark and not you.
Your gaze slowly falls down, to the people rushing past on the pavement below you, smaller than ants. And you have an idea. It’s bad idea, and he’ll probably be really pissed at you, but it’s also an effective idea.
You drum your fingers on the railing, trying to weigh how important this is. In the grand scheme of the universe, not worth throwing yourself off a building for. In terms of all the people relying on you to win this case, absolutely worth throwing yourself off a building. And it’s not like you’ll die. Superman will save you.
“Please don’t do that.”
You whip around, squeaking in surprise, and stumble a step back. There’s a split second where your balance is gone, and you’re falling backwards, and God, that was a horrible idea and now you’re going to die because you’re a dramatic idiot-
But there’s a whoosh.
And a strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you quickly upright before you can topple off the edge.
Superman grins down at you, keeping you pressed against him, and your hands somehow ended up flat on his chest. He feels strong, under the suit. And you’re really not cold anymore, because he’s like a person fucking furnace.
A furnace with a nice smile and kind eyes and a little curl falling over his forehead that makes him look like an old movie star.
You’re staring at him. Your heart is going to fast, and there’s the buzzing feeling again, and you’re not sure you’re going to be able to keep your balance by yourself. His proximity is making you drunk, and it’s not fair-
“Who’s stalking who now?” He says, voice rumbling through your chest, and you flush.
“Shut up.” You push him away, and he releases you in second.
His hand lingers on your forearm. To help you get upright.
Only to help you get upright. Nothing else.
He does not get to turn you into a fucking idiot, any more than he already has.
“I need to talk to you.” Arms cross over your chest. Chin raised. Voice firm. You’re going to win this conversation.
Superman just nods, still smiling. “Yeah, I think I figured that out myself. You know, you really don’t have to jump off a roof, I was on my way.”
Shit. “I wasn’t-“
“I think you were, but if you say you weren’t, okay. I believe you.”
“Well- I wasn’t.”
“Okay.” He shrugs, still fucking smiling, and he needs to stop being so kind. It’s making you feel more things you don’t have time for. “What did you need me for, so badly you weren’t going to jump off a roof?”
You flush. “I want to ask you questions. About being an immigrant.”
He raises his brows. “Oh? Like what?”
“Your experience. What it feels like not having a home to return to, or being divorced from the governmental ideals of your home. What you’re grateful for, what you’re not grateful. What you wish would change, what you think America needs to improve on. Why you stay here, when you of all people could feasibly go anywhere in the world.”
Superman blinks. “Well, for the last one, this is my home. And it’s not perfect, but I have no wish to be anywhere else.”
“I know that. But a lot of other people are in similar shoes, and having Superman echo their thoughts and sentiments would be good to hear. Plus you hold a lot of public sway.”
“I didn’t know you were a journalist,” he says your name with small laugh, and you shrug.
“It’s testimony. Are you going to answer my questions, or do I need to jump off the roof.”
“I’ll answer them. They’re smart questions, and anything to help people in my position. But…” Superman pauses, watching you with a strange expression, then lets out a long breath. “You never need to jump off a roof for my attention.”
It’s like he punched you in the fucking gut. You blink, pressing your lips in a tight line as your heart stumbles and your breath becomes shallow, the heat moving down to your lower gut. He can’t just say things like that while looking at you and being so kind. You’re not going to jump off the roof, you’re going to do something stupider, like trying to kiss Superman on his pretty, full mouth that says such sweet things.
You need to calm the fuck down. You’ve met him three times, and this is nothing more than a professional interview.
You can’t kiss Superman.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” You drawl, pulling out your phone to record.
He just nods, and takes a step forward. If you wanted to, you could reach out and poke his chest. There’s heat, radiating off his body again.
Calm the fuck down.
You’re not going to make a habit of calling for him. If this goes well, you’ll have everything you need from Superman, and you can go back to living a quiet, long, focused life.
Alone.
Without any stupid, kind puppy-men making you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’d like to let everything crumble down and just be warm.
———
You turn the corner too fast. Slam right into a large, broad chest with a squeak.
A strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you quickly to your feet. There’s a strangely familiar feeling to it, that your slightly addled brain—a little from shame, a little from drinking—can’t quite place.
Then you look up, and it would be nice to burst into flames, or melt into the ground.
Clark Kent is blinking down at you, and he looks almost unfairly good in a suit. You don’t know why a journalist works out so much—and he doesn’t seem like the type to be a gym rat—but his muscles are almost pushing out of his dress shirt, and you can feel them under your fingers where you’ve grabbed his shirt, and why are his eyes so blue.
“Hi.” He says your name, glancing down to where your bodies are pressed together, before back to you with a small blush. “You look nice.”
You do look nice. You spent three hours today, making sure you looked nice for the fancy gala. At least five people have told you that you look nice since you got here, because you’d put so much fucking effort into it, it’s a little impossible not to notice.
For some reason, it wasn’t the appreciative look from Bruce Wayne and smirk—his hand brushing over your lower back and eyes hooded with desire—that got your to feel like you were glowing.
It’s Clark, and his stupid, honey-like voice that’s getting under your skin. You look nice. He thinks you look nice. Enough to say it so truly, as if it’s just a fact of the universe. With a gentle element of kindness, like he’s acknowledging all that work it took you to get here.
With his red ears, like you look so nice it’s doing something to him.
Which isn’t fair.
“You look nice, as well.” You manage to get out, and he grins.
“Thanks. I mean, it’s nothing really. Less expectations for me, I think.” He helps you to your feet, before taking a carefully step back. “I’m not giving the big speech tonight.”
“Oh, well- Yeah.” You try to smile back. It’s too easy. “Do you think you could, though? In my place?”
Clark laughs, and there it goes again. Making you feel like you’re fucking shining. “I would, but I don’t think I can trick people into thinking I’m you.”
“Not with that attitude you can’t.”
“I think it’s a little more than the attitude. I don’t have your gravity.” He gives you another small smile, and before you can ask what the fuck that means, he’s holding out your champagne flute. “I caught this, by the way. But- If you’re giving your speech, maybe go easy?” He blushes, shaking his head. “Not that I’m telling you what to do. You- If this is like, your process. Do your process.”
You blink at him, then the champagne. You’re not sure how the fuck he caught it and you, without spilling a single drop.
And when you take it back, you’re fingers brush, and fucking electrically shoots through your whole body.
You down the rest of the champagne in one swig, and Clark gapes at you.
“It is my process.” You mumble, carefully wiping your chin. “It’s called get buzzed so I forget people are looking at me.”
Clark chuckles, glancing at your glass. “Do you, uh- Do you want me not to look at you? While you’re talking? If that helps?”
“Yes. Close your eyes for the whole speech.” You sigh, spinning the flute between your fingers, and Clark nods.
“Okay. But- I think you’re going to great no matter what. You’re good at talking and- Um- Captivating.”
Melting is back on the table. You feel a little dizzy. “Captivating?”
Clark nods, fidgeting with his tie. “I mean, you’re passionate. Makes me- And, uh, everyone else- Makes us like listening to you.”
“Oh.” You swallow. “Okay.”
This is too nice. You’re going to fly out of your skin if you don’t shift it. And Clark is opening his mouth, probably so say something else that’s sweet, so you blurt the first thing that comes to mind.
“Do you have any pets?”
“Uh-“ Clark blinks at you, then nods slowly. “Not really, no. My cousin has a dog that I watch sometimes, but that’s about it.”
You nod, looking down to your shoes. Looking him in the eyes feels dangerous. “Is it a cute dog?”
“Yeah, but he’s also….” Clark pauses, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Rowdy. Do you have any pets?”
“No.”
“Oh. Okay. Um- Do you like pets.”
“Of course I like pets.” You frown at him. “My apartment just doesn’t allow them, so- I mean, I guess I sort of do have a cat, but she lives with my mom.”
Clark’s face lights up slightly. “You have a mom?”
“Yes? Most people do, I think, even if it’s just like a donor-“
“No, I meant like- Do you get to see her a lot?” He clears his throat, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. “Like, does she live in the city?”
“No, but- She’s not far.” You pause, and either the drinks or Clark’s presence are loosening your tongue, because you add, “I’m from Gotham. And I’ve told her to come here like- A lot. But she doesn’t want to leave home.”
“Oh.” Clark nods. “That makes sense. Not her refusing to leave but- I mean, that makes sense as well, it is her home, and I don’t think you could drag my parents from their farm. But they don’t live in Gotham, they’re in, uh- Kansas. I’m from Kansas. And you’re from Gotham. Which is what makes sense.”
You stare at him, and he coughs, giving you a smaller, slightly ashamed smile. It’s impossibly fucking endearing.
“It makes sense that I’m from Gotham?” You finally say, and he nods.
“You’re tough.”
That makes you flush. Which isn’t fair. “What’s your cousin’s dog’s name?”
“Kr- Oco.”
You frown. “Kroco?”
“Coco.” He says quickly, taking a small step forward. “What about your cat?”
“Godzilla.”
Clark laughs again. “That’s a good name.”
“Thank you.” You’re smiling again, and you can’t even bring yourself to look at your shoes. “I came up with it.”
“I bet you did.”
You don’t get to know what that means. You want to. So fucking bad. You want to understand why Clark is saying so many nice things and why he’s so handsome and why he’s still talking to you. At no point has he tried to end the conversation and escape. He just kept grinning and talking and saying nice things, right up until one of your co-workers comes up behind you and drags you away for the speech.
And when you’re giving it, it’s impossibly easy to find Clark in the crowd.
Towards the back, somehow shining to through the glare of the spotlights.
Eyes squeezed shut the whole time.
———
You have the willpower of a sheep on cocaine.
Already easy to herd.
Very easily baited by more cocaine.
Cocaine being a handsome superhero, who you haven’t been able to shake since you shouted for him on a roof.
It started the night after the Gala. You’d walked home you with skirt hiked up and jewelry left upstairs in your office—because you’re not a fucking idiot—and Superman had dropped out of the sky with his stupid smile.
“Do I need to wait for you to get mugged again, to say you shouldn’t walk alone at night?”
You’d laughed softly, and kept walking right past him. “Are you going to let me get mugged?”
“No, that’s why I’m here now. Offering my escort services to ladies in need.”
That had gotten you to stop. You’d had to.
You’d started laughing so hard that if you didn’t, you would have fucking fallen over.
Superman had stared at you with a bemused smile, taking a half-step forward, like he was worried you’d been hit with something.
He’d said your name slowly, and you’d shaken your head, still giggling.
“God, that- That’s-“ You’d snorted, and he’d reached for you carefully.
“Are you-“
“I’m fine, dude, that’s just- I can’t believe people thought you have a harem.”
He’d frowned. “Well, I don’t-“
“Yeah, I know.” You’d laughed again, and he’d frowned.
“I’m sorry, I just- I’m not quite sure what the joke is.”
You’d drawn back up, giving him an amused look. “What do you think an escort service is?”
Superman had blinked. “I’m going to walk you home.”
“Wrong. You handsome, sweet alien, that is so wrong.”
He’d—impossibly—stood a little taller. “Handsome?”
Shit. “Yeah, pretty boy. You’ve got a nice face.” You’d doubled down like it was nothing, and it had seemed to be an effective strategy. “You know that. People make thirst edits of you on the internet.”
“They do?”
“Oh.” You’d beamed at him. “I have so much to show you.”
And every night after that, he’d walked you home. It’s an effective system. You show him the online form that’s dedicated to trying to convince to actually form a Harem, and he gets to make sure you’re never mugged. You wave to him from the window—which is far too romantic, yet you can’t stop doing it—and then he grins at you, and blasts up, up, and away. There are a few nights that he misses, but there’s always a sticky note on your fire escape saying dragon trying to burn down the harbor, see you tomorrow, with a little smiley face.
You’re keeping them in your nightstand. And it’s not like anyone is going to find them anyway, so that’s not pathetic.
But it might make you a bad person.
Because you’re putting them right next to the other thing in your nightstand.
The second dose of cocaine.
Clark won’t stop popping up either. And it doesn’t start in the same seeking you out way that it does with Superman, but it builds faster. Into something more. Something bigger than you might be able to handle.
It starts shows up for drinks, with Lois and Jimmy. Which should be nothing.
But the universe is out to get you. So it’s everything.
“I’m so glad he didn’t scare you off.” Lois said with a dramatic sigh, setting down her beer. “You’re my favorite person to interview.”
Jimmy had frowned. “Why, because you don’t get to interview a lot of women?”
“No, Jimmy, I interview plenty of women. It’s just- The unfortunate thing about most of the women in power right now is-“
“They’re all fucking cunts.” You’d finished for her, and Clark and Jimmy had choked on their beers with impressive comedic timing. “Which is mostly an unfortunate byproduct of the system. It’s hard to be in a significant position of power and be a good person.”
“I don’t know.” Clark had frowned. “I mean, there must be a lot of pressure. And I’m sure they’re not happy with compromising their morals, it just- It must be hard.”
Lois had shrugged. “Or they’re all just cunts.”
“That’s- Seems like a harsh word-“
“Once I was at a congress hearing.” You’d said dryly, and Clark had looked at you with his full, unwavering attention. It had made you more drunk than the beer. “And one of the congresswomen asked why I was betraying American women by supporting bringing such violent rapists into our country. Her husband isn’t allowed within a hundred yards of schools.”
“Oh.” Clark had frowned. “Well, I hope she realizes she can divorce him. Or- Maybe something will get her to turn around? Like an- Intervention?”
Lois had snorted. “What, from God?”
“No, not God, but- I don’t know.” He’d looked at you, his tone so fucking sincere. “I’m sorry she said that to you.”
You’d had to look down to hide your flush. “It’s okay. Happens.”
Clark had frowned, like it shouldn’t.
But you hadn’t scared him off.
He’d come to another night of drinks. Then another. Then five more, until Jimmy got sick and Lois had an article due, and it was just you and him, sitting across from a booth so small your knees bumped, and hands brushed with every gesture.
“So, why journalism?” You’d asked. “You don’t seem to have the same passion for it that Lois does.”
He’d chuckled, pushing up his glasses. “No, I guess I don’t. And I don’t know, I like talking to people. Hearing their stories. Nice, stable career, you know?”
You’d opened your mouth, but barely spoken before Clark has shaken his head.
“Wait, you probably don’t know, do you. You’re passionate about everything you do.”
“I- Yeah. I am.” You’d swallowed, and he’d kept saying those things like they were obvious. Looking at you like you’re fascinating. Like he could see right through you, and whatever was in there, he liked. “I mean, I like what I do, but I do it because I want to do more.”
Clark had nodded, taking a slow drink of his beer. “Bigger ambitions, huh?”
“Yeah. Do you just-“ You’d frowned. “Not have those?”
“I hate to break it to you,” he’d said your name with a small grin. “Most people don’t. Almost all the folks I know aren’t necessarily happy with what they got, but they’re not lookin’ to make the Earth spin clockwise.”
You’d blinked at him. “What?”
“Sorry, that’s just- Something my Pa says.” He’d blushed, looking down to the table. “I’m trying to say it’s admirable. To want to change things and actually, uh- Do it.”
“Thanks.” You’d whispered, and he’d grinned.
“No problem. Mind if I guess your ambition?”
Normally, you would’ve minded. But it was Clark. And you’d sort of been desperate to know what he thought of you. “Be my guest.”
“President. Or- Actually.” He’d examined you, slowly and with an element of light, playful amusement that had made you giggle. “United Nations, but maybe still Congress?”
You’d laughed, shaking your head, and Clark had raised his brows.
“Am I close?”
“Maybe.” You’d hummed, holding his gaze as you take a drink. “But I’d rather eat glass than go into politics.”
“Ah, right. Sorry.” He’d grinned. “Just got caught up in the idea of you showing that rude congress woman what a good person looks like.”
Your grip had tightened on your bottle. “You think I’m a good person?”
“Yeah.” He’d shrugged. “Of course.”
Of course.
You let the conversation keep going. Clark had told you about some game he and Jimmy went to, and how he’s pretty sure Jimmy’s sick because a supermodel was slobbering over him all afternoon. You’d told him about how you’d won a big litigation about your case, and smiled at your fingers when he’d made a big, happy deal about it. And the night had flashed by until it was almost two in the morning, and you’d been kicked out the bar.
And Clark had asked if you wanted him to walk you home, and you’d said no.
Not because you hadn’t.
But you’d wanted to see Superman.
Because you aren’t a good person.
That night, Superman had landed on the sidewalk next to you, and you’d smiled at your fingers.
“You’re late.”
“Sorry,” he’d fallen into pace so fast beside you. “Got busy.”
“If people need saving-“
“No, I was just talking to someone important.”
You’d hummed. “Oh? Can you tell me, or is it classified super business?”
He’d laughed. It had been a few months, and it wasn’t making your heart skip any less. “Super business, I’m afraid. Actually, I have a question for you.
“I might have an answer.”
“Alright, well- If you could be a meta, like me-“
You’d mock gasped. “You’re a meta? Why did you tell me?”
“Very funny.” His voice had been flat, but you’d been able to hear the amusement, and it had made you shine. “I just want to know what kind of powers you’d want to have.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I’m curious, is that not allowed?”
“No.” You’d squinted at him in the dark, he’d stared right back, and your heart had skipped a beat. Shit. “It’s allowed. But it’s suspicious.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be less suspicious in the future.”
“Thank you.” You’d paused, thinking about his question, and you’d been walking closers and closer lately. Almost as close as you’d been to Clark, in the bar.
And you’re a horrible person.
“I think I’d like to be able to speak any language.” You’d told Superman, speaking slowly. “But like, any language. Plants and computers and animals, too. Understand and talk to all of them. If it’s communication, I’d be able to do it.”
“Ah. That’s one of the best ones I’ve heard.” Superman had smiled at you in the dark, and you hadn’t even needed to ask. “I might know someone who’d like his power to be knowing the weather.”
“Knowing the weather, like-“
“Just a weatherman. With total accuracy.” Superman had smiled to himself. “I know it’s ridiculous, but it makes him happy.”
You’d kept walking, and talking, and laughing until you reached your apartment. Then you’d waved to him from your window, and he’d vanished back into the night.
The next day, there had been a knock on your door. You’d opened it to find Clark, shifting on his feet with a book in his hands and a nervous smile.
You’d frowned at him. “How do you know where I live.”
“Oh, uh- I-“ He’d cleared his throat, something like alarm flashing over his face. “You’re not going to like it. I, um- I sort of stole your contact from Lois. And she had it, so- Now I have it.”
He’d been beet red, and you might have pushed it if he didn’t look like he was about to make himself pass out.
So you’d just nodded, watching him carefully. “And… Why are you here?”
He’d let out a sharp breath, holding up the book. “Just want to give you this. I don’t know if you have time to take care of a plant- You’re so busy I’m guessing you don’t- Which isn’t bad, but-“
“Clark-“
“They’re pressed flowers.” He’d said quickly, opening the book for you to see. “My Ma taught me how to make them. To celebrate winning your case.”
You’d stared between him and the flowers, your eyes starting to sting because that was so fucking sweet, and you want to sink teeth and claws into his pretty face, or maybe just let him tear you apart, or-
Just keep growing. Up and up, into whatever kinder, softer thing Clark is made of.
That had terrified you.
“I- I won a litigation of my case.” You’d whispered, voice breaking, and Clark had shrugged.
“Still worth celebrating.” He’d said softly, and that had felt like a dose. You never wanted him to go too far, where you wouldn’t be able to find him.
You’d put his flowers in your bedside drawer. And the sticky notes Superman’s been leaving keep building up.
Bar night after bar night, you lose track of time with Clark, because you don’t want him to go, but you still let Superman walk you home.
You stare at the flowers and notes in your drawer, and you might be forgetting how to not smile at either of them.
And worst of all, you don’t really want to remember at all.
———
The world is spinning.
And you giggle to yourself, because the world is always spinning. Always going round and round and right back to where it started, but a million miles away, and now you can just feel it.
Either because of the many, many drinks you’d slammed down in an attempt to soften some sort of self-sharpening edge, or because of Clark’s proximity.
“Oh, gosh.” He catches you around the waist, as you walk up the stairs, and you giggle again. “Let’s slow down, I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Aw.” You smile, wiggling around to face him. “You care about me.”
Clark frowns. “You know I care about you. I don’t think I’ve made that a secret- Woah-“
You fall forwards, right into him, and press your face into his neck.
“You smell good.” You mumble. “Like… rain.”
Clark pauses, hand splayed on your back. “Is that good?”
“I like it.” You whisper, fingers curling on his sleeves. “This jacket is nice.”
“I mean, it’s alright.” He frowns at the jacket, then you. “Do you want it?”
You nod, mostly because your drunken, addled brain isn’t connecting one and one to mean two.
Clark had asked if you wanted it. You’d been staring at where his button up was slightly undone, as if you’ve never seen bare skin before.
Yes, you want him. So bad it’s making your stomach flip, although that might just been the liquor.
It’s a heavy, crushing disappointment like titanium, when he just props you carefully against the stairwell wall, and helps you into his jacket. You pout at the floor, trying to savor how it’s warm and smells like him, but now you’re chasing a painting of a ghost that’s haunting you from a foot away.
You turn, pout deepening, and try to march up the stairs by yourself.
You trip, because the world is spinning and you don’t have any balance.
Clark catches you, because the world is spinning and he’s Clark, so it’s just one of those things that happens.
You fall. He’s there, strong with an arm around your waist.
This time though, he picks you up with a small grunt.
Something distant and vigilant in your head is wondering why he grunted picking you up but never while carrying you up four flights of stairs.
It’s drowned out by how warm he is, and how much you want him.
“Why do people call them guns?” You mumble to yourself, poking his biceps, and Clark frowns.
“Well, if you asked my Pa, he’d make some joke about them being lady killers, then say that we shouldn’t be killin’ ladies. Should be treating them well.” He chuckles, and you stare up at him because in the florescent light of the hallway, he somehow looks like an angel.
“I like it when you talk about your parents.”
Someone needs to put a muzzle on you, before you say anything else truthful and dangerous.
But stupid, perfect Clark always wants to hear what you’ve got to say.
“Why?”
“I dunno,” you play with the folds of his collar, as he sets you down on your couch. “Makes you seem real.”
Clark’s brows furrow. “Do you no think I’m real.”
“I think.” You grab the lapels of his shirt, yanking him down to your eye level. “That you are too good.”
“…To be real?”
“Yes.” To be yours. “And no. Can you tell me your cow’s name again.”
“Bessie. What do you think I’m too good for, if it’s not being real-“
“Shhhhhhh.” You press a finger to his lips, frowning out your window. “Oh. No.”
Clark tenses. “What’s wrong.”
“I can’t tell him I’m busy.” You whisper, tears starting to sting at your eyes, and Clark reaches up to carefully brush them away.
“Tell who, sweetheart. I can, uh- I try to pass on a message. If this guy is important to you.”
You don’t understand the frown in his voice. “No. You can’t find him. It’s Superman.” You whisper the last part, and Clark blinks.
The world is starting to get fuzzy. Everything feels heavy, and it would be nice to maybe go to sleep.
But Clark says your name, so you slump forward into him as your body demands that you listen.
“You- Um- You know Superman?”
“Yeah.” You mumble against him, pulling his jacket a little tighter. “Walks me home. Why I don’t go with you.”
“Oh.” Clark pauses. “And you’d rather have him? Walk you home, I mean?”
“I dunno. But don’t worry.” You yawn, the world slowly falling down into black. “He’s not real either.”
———
It had hit you, with the splitting headache of a hangover. You’d stared at yourself in the mirror, and been unable to get it together expect to form one conclusion.
You love Clark.
And you open the drawer, and see the flowers and the sticky notes, and know that he deserves far better. Not you.
Never you.
Someone good like him. Who does it so easily, and trusts like he does—with everything in him—and can hold his heart in both their hands.
You can’t.
Because you might be a really bad person.
Leaning over the roof of your apartment, breath fogging up the air, you wait. For an answer, that only one person can offer you, even if he doesn’t know.
You’re not sure if either of them know. It would make it a lot easier if one didn’t, and was just friendly.
Or if one felt nothing, and you’d been reading too much into it all.
That would split you in fucking half. But that feels like it’s going to happen no matter what.
At least if neither of them want you, you’ll have both pieces to stitch yourself back together.
But first, you need to know.
“Do I need to tell you not to jump?” Superman says from behind you. “Or are you just trying to talk to me again?”
You smile into the dark, voice a little too soft. “I’m just trying to talk to you.”
“Okay.” You can hear the frown in his voice “And were you going to jump?”
“No.”
“You know, that time I actually believe you.”
You turn to look at him in the dark, and it never fails to stop your heart, when he smiles at you. You thought you’d get past it. Get used to how it seems to light up the dark.’
But there it is.
The little skip that you get high on now, because it means he’s looking at you, and there’s never been anything better.
Or maybe just one thing better.
Or the same.
Jesus. You look away, bowing your head to stare at your hands, and Superman clears his throat.
“Are you feeling okay?” There’s a beat. “Anything I can help with?”
“No. Nothing you can-“ You sigh. “Can I just ask you something?”
“Always.”
You run your fingers over the rough rock of the roof wall, keeping your eyes fixed on everything below. There are shadows moving down there, people walking the streets alone through the dark. That’s where you belong, not up here. Not where the sun would hit you, golden and bright, when it breaks the horizon.
Superman mutters your name, and a warmth heats over your skin.
You push it out, before you can think better.
“Do you think I have bigger ambitions?”
He’s silent for a moment, then, “What do you mean?”
“Like- With my life. I- I know someone who’s happy with everything he has, he- He knows everything he wants to be, and-“ You swallow, your voice starting to hurt. “I don’t know if I am.”
“Is it your job? Or someone doing something-“
“No, it’s me.” You turn to look at him, pressing your lips tight together, because you won’t cry. “I’m doing too much and I- It’s still not enough, and I- I don’t- I don’t know where I’m going. I feel like I’ve been in the same orbit for so, so long and it was fine but now it isn’t and- I don’t- I’m tired.” Your voice cracks, and Superman takes a small step forward. “I’m barely doing anything, and I’m so tired, and I don’t want to be tired anymore but I don’t know how to- I’ve never-“
Your voice dies, because it’s cracking and if you don’t pull it the fuck together soon, you’re going to cry.
Superman moves forward in a blink. Wraps his arms around you, and cradles your head to his chest as the tears start to silently roll.
He just holds you in the dark for so long, and there must be better things for him to be doing, but he’s not trying to move. It’s not until you’re breathing him in at a steady pace, that he loosens his grip enough for you to push back.
And when you do, he holds your face between his hands, wiping the tears slowly from your eyes.
“I think you do enough.” He murmurs, and you sniff. “Don’t argue with me about this one. You do. You tell me about work, and you do good things. Thing most people are afraid to, because you don’t seem to have that setting. Whatever rest you want, you deserve, because you,” he says your name, his gaze locked onto yours. “Do more than most anyone I know.”
You wipe your nose with your sleeve, mumbling into the cloth. “Everyone you know probably penguins or something, with where you live.”
“In the Arctic?” He laughs softly, attention on you still so affectionate and tender. “Yeah, I guess I know a few penguins. They’re good guys. One of them got me an icicle for my promotion.”
You frown at him. “Your promotion? You have a boss?”
“I’m my boss. I gave the promotion to myself.”
“That’s so stupid.” You smile at his shoes, and he slowly tips your gaze back up, right onto his.
“Yeah, but it made you laugh. I’d say it was worth it.”
You take a long, deep breath, and it’s too easy to get lost in him. In this moment. You don’t want to get swept away in it.
So you press your face to his neck, and just breathe.
He smells a little like rain. Feels a little like a home.
And it’s not a question anymore. You have your answer.
You know.
———
You’re clinging to the walls of the room. Gripping your glass like a lifeline and scanning over the crowd, trying to calculate when it’s going to thin out.
When you’re going to be able to escape.
It’s not life or death. You just really don’t want to be here. At the big, important event Metropolis is throwing for the new Bavarian president. You’re not sure if they’re trying to make amends—or a new plan—but you know you’re only here so they can say you’re here. So in the morning they can talk about how they have nothing to hide, and how the tattered relationship of Boravia and Jarhanpur are healing, all because of America.
You’d told your boss that going was a stupid idea.
He said you had to, or he’d replace you on the Jarhanpurian refugee case.
So now you’re standing on the edge of the party, watching it move around you, and trying not to think about anything at all.
If you think about things, you think about ways out of here. Ways like sneaking up to the roof, and asking Superman to get you out. If you’re not thinking about that, you’re thinking about how the buffet table has the exact type of bread rolls Clark likes, because he’s told you about them multiple times.
No matter what, you end up feeling like you want to cry. And you don’t, because you’re a fucking professional, but fuck if you don’t want to.
It’s mostly just lonely. You had a plus one, but you can’t bring yourself to ask Clark if this is anything—not when you’re sort of always looking out the window—and you ended up going alone.
That’s probably how this is going to end anyway.
Might as well get in some fucking practice.
Someone calls your name from across the room, and you brace for the impact of some Boravian diplomat about to berate you or an ambassador who’s going to make stunted conversation trying to convince you that you’re a bad person. You don’t need them to do that—you’re already so fucking good at doing it yourself—so they’re just going to be wasting everyone’s time.
But it’s not a cruel, taunting diplomat.
It’s Jimmy, pulling a nervous looking Clark behind him.
“Hey!” Jimmy stops right in front of you, and it takes a Herculean amount of effort to look at him and not Clark. “Why are you here, I thought they’d be trying to stop you from knowing this is even happening.”
“I think it’s a weird chess move.” You turn your glass in your hands, and measure out the perfect amount of time to wait before you look up and give Clark a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He responds so quickly, he looks a little surprised with himself. “I- Uh- Are you at least liking the food?”
“It’s fine.” You shrug. “They have the bread rolls you like.”
Clark blushes, fidgeting with his tie. “I know, we- Uh- We’ve been here a bit-“
“Clark ate a whole basket of them.” Jimmy tells you, and you can’t stop your soft laugh. “Then he got upset because he thought he might have taken them away from everyone else-“
“But I didn’t.” Clark jumps in quickly. “They put another basket out- I can go get you one. Do you want one?”
You don’t give a fuck about bread rolls. “Yes, please.”
Clark stands a little taller now that he’s got a mission, and smiles at you before he vanishes into the crowd. He’s left you tapping your nails on your champagne glass, giving Jimmy a tight smile.
“What are you guys doing here?” You ask, and Jimmy shrugs.
“Lois wants this and the protests about this covered. She decided to do the protests, gave me the event. I,” he holds up a press badge. “Am working.”
“You and Clark?”
“He’s interested in this kind of thing.”
“He is?” You frown at the crowd, and Jimmy nods.
“Guess he doesn’t talk about it with you. Invasions and genocide aren’t romantic at all.”
Your heart moves into your throat. “They aren’t- What-“
“Hey, has he asked you his power question yet?” Jimmy cuts you off, mostly looking out at the crowd, and you frown.
“His what?”
“Past few months he’s been asking like, everyone we know what power they’d want as a meta.” Jimmy shoves his hands in his pockets, giving you a curious expression. “Started when he was talking to Lois about if she thought Superman being able to hear everything is weird. Then he asked her what power she would want, then he asked me, then he called his parents or something- I don’t know what’s up it, but it’s a pretty good question.”
“It… is.” You frown, and there’s that thing in the back of your head. The one that had been drowned out by liquor, then pain, but now how nothing but noise around it. And it’s getting louder. “What’s Clark’s answer?”
“Um- I don’t think he’s actually said.” Jimmy shrugs, then gives you a winning grin. “But I’d know the weather. If you want to know.”
“You’d know the weather.”
“Yeah, like a weatherman, but I’m always right.”
“That’s pointless, Jimmy.”
“To you, maybe. I would figure out how to turn it into a fortune.”
You open and close your mouth, the something in your head getting louder, but it doesn’t turn into words before Clark reappears through the crowd, holding two of the not small bread rolls in one hand.
“I got them.” He says you name, and your stupid stomach does a happy, traitorous little flip. “Here, I got you butter as well, in case you want to use that.”
He shoves the rolls into your hands, holding your gaze, and your fingers brush. He’s standing so close, he doesn’t need to be this close, but you never want him to move away-
“Clark,” Jimmy mock gasps. “Did you get two so she could give you one?”
“I- No, of course not-“
“I’m just teasing you, man.” Jimmy claps him on the back, scanning out over the crowd. “Alright, I gotta go do my job, or Lois is gonna crucify me.”
Clark wrinkles his nose. “I think that’s a little dramatic-“
“It’s not dramatic enough, and you know it.” Jimmy grins between you and Clark. “Be safe, kids. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
You want to grab him, before he disappears into the crowd. Not because you don’t want to be alone with Clark, but because you do. More than almost anything. So you need a buffer, before you do something stupid.
But Jimmy vanishes, and you have to stuff a bread roll into your mouth to occupy it. Clark just stands next to, still far too close, making your head fucking spin.
He clears his throat, voice low enough that only you can hear, and you might be leaning into his gravity.
“You must hate this.” He mutters, and you swallow.
“I don’t like it.” You mumble, and—because now there’s no bread to block your sappy feelings from spilling out of your mouth—add, “It’s better now, though.”
Clark raises his brows. “Yeah?”
You nod, shoving the second bread roll into your mouth, and Clark won’t stop looking at you. Like you’re the sunrise, as your cheeks push out like a chipmunk and your lipstick smudges slightly.
Even his voice has a kind of soft reverence, when he speaks. “Do you like them? The bread rolls.”
“They’re good,” you try to say through the mouthful, but it comes out more of a wordless grumble, and you stare at Clark for a moment before you both start laughing.
It shatters whatever strange tension had just bene in the air. Everything flows smoother, as you talk about the food and drinks and how made up this whole thing is. Clark compliments your dress and you’ve never felt warmer. You think you could go out into the dead, winter night and still feel this warm.
The air is getting lighter and lighter. You might be in danger of floating away.
“So,” you give him a curious look, and he mirrors it.
“So?”
“Jimmy says you’re interested in all these events.”
“Oh. Well- I guess I am, yeah.” He’s watching you carefully, words slower than usual. “I just like to know what’s going on in the world. Part of my job, right?”
You hum. “Aren’t most of your articles about Superman?”
He coughs. “Yeah, well, he’s interested in this too. You know how everything went down, with Boravia. He likes to keep tabs on it. And I like to know what I’m probably going to talk to him about.”
The thing is starting to ring in your ears. “How often do you talk to him?”
“I don’t know, every few nights?” Clark smiles, but it’s more taut than usual. Almost nervous. “How often is too often?”
He’s saying it like it’s a joke.
You’re not sure it is.
“I mean, you talk to him. He’s a great guy to talk to. Right?” He gives you a strange look, and you sigh.
“He is, yeah. But I don’t interview him.”
“Yes you- I mean, you interviewed him for your case, right?”
“Maybe.” You shrug, narrowing your eyes, and Clark coughs.
“Well, I don’t get why it’s a big thing, right. I’m interested in things. He’s interested in things. You’re interested in things. And- Yeah. We’re all interested in the same things, and we talk about them, and- I mean, he must have mentioned to you as some point how he talks to me all the time. Mutual friend.” He pauses. “I’ve told him about you.”
You tilt your head at him, lips pressed tight together. “You have.”
“Yeah? I mean, after we talk shop, sometimes he asks how life is, and- I’ve told him about you, and he- He also really likes you-“
“You really like me?”
Clark’s ears go red, and you feel a little guilty—you’re sort of treating him like a hostile witness—but the thing in your head is so fucking close to piecing itself together, you just need to push a little more.
“Yeah, I like you.” He gives you a small grin, pushing up his glass. “But- Superman does to. You’re the best, and- We talk about you all the time.”
You just keep staring at him, because that should make you feel sick. The two men you love, talking about you without you there, when you don’t even know which one you’d want forever.
But it’s just making you suspicious. Because there’s something so slightly fucking off.
“Superman has never once mentioned you, Clark.” You say carefully, and he winces.
“Ouch. I mean, all is fair in- You know-“
“Love and war?” You finish, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him more nervous. “Which part of this is which?”
He stares at you, mouth hanging slightly open, and right before you’re about to find the words, the world finds them for you.
Clark’s head shoots up, drawing up to his full height, and pushes his glasses up his nose as he looks over the crowd. And there’s this smallest fucking shift in all your thoughts, as if a veil is being lifted.
They have the same fucking face.
You don’t know how you missed it, but they have the same fucking face.
Your mouth barely opens to tell him that you know, before the first gunshots ring through the air. Clark grabs you around your waist, and the world turns into a rushing, cold blur. You’re not even sure what’s happening, besides your arms wrapping around his neck and the air being knocked from your lungs.
Then you’re outside, in the freezing cold. Clark steadies you with wide eyes, pulling off his jacket and dumping it into your hands.
“Put this on and go home.” He mutters, words so fast you almost don’t catch them. “Take a cab, don’t walk. I’ll pay for it, I just- I can’t go with you tonight- I’m sorry-“
You gape at him. “Go with- Clark, what the fuck-“
“I’m sorry.” He repeats, and shoots off into the night.
Flies off into the night.
Leaving you alone, on the cold street, with his jacket strangled in your hands and the world upside down.
———
You’re pacing outside his door. You have been for almost an hour, waiting for him to get home.
He’ll have to be back soon. It’s past five, you don’t think he has plans tonight, and even if he doesn’t he’d probably have to stop back home to get something.
It’s okay.
You can wait.
You have the week off, because your boss feels back for putting you in the middle of a terrorist attack. When he’d told you, he’d looked at you like he expected you to protest.
Normally, you would have. Slowing down wasn’t the thing to do, not when you were so close to the finish line—even if it kept moving further and further away—and a single faltered step or second to breathe might lead to you falling so far behind.
But this isn’t a normal week.
And Superman said you deserve some rest, so you’re listening to him.
It’s just that rest might not mean the same thing to you that it meant to him. Rest meant answers. Rest meant three days combing over older Superman reports, and drawing out a timeline of Clark’s life to see if things lined up, and writing down everything either of them have ever said to you, to see what lined up.
And it did.
Of course it did. It all falls together an avalanche, leaving you standing in to rubble and looking to the sky and wondering how you ever fucking missed it.
He says your name, and you turn to see Clark staring at you from down the hall, grip white-knuckled on his bag.
“Clark.” Your voice sounds faraway and cool. You don’t want to be a bitch to him.
You don’t know how else to be.
“Are you alright?” He takes a half-step forward, and you wrap your arms around your stomach. Of course he’s just worried about you. Asshole. “I wanted to come check on you, I promise. There’s just been a lot to deal with, and- I wasn’t sure if…” He clears his throat, watching you nervously as you just stare at him. “You’d want to see me?”
“Really?” You raise your chin. “Why wouldn’t I want to see you, Clark?”
“Um...” He glances around the hallway. “Why don’t you tell me, and we can see if we have the same reasons?”
“No, I think you should tell me first.”
“It’s just- I don’t think I should, because what if our reasons aren’t the same and mine sounds crazy-“
“Is your reason that I know?” You snap, narrowing your eyes. “Because I know.”
Clark stares at you for a long, wired moment, then lets out a long, defeated breath. “Can we do this inside, please?”
You nod, and step off to the side so he can open the door. Clark gives you another one of his small, nervous smiles as he brushes past you, and it doesn’t feel any different from before. When he’d sat too close to you at the bar.
Or stood to close, on the street.
That’s the worst part of it. Is not you’re not angry, or bitter, or heartbroken. You just feel stranded. Like you’re hanging over a pit and trying to work out if it’s worth falling, or trying to claw your way back out.
Because if you’re right—and you are—you could have something. Everything. What you’ve spent so much time on, convince yourself that it really wasn’t going to matter.
But once you have it, it’s real. Something you can lose. Something you can fuck up or neglect or break.
It’s a good thing.
Clark—taking your jacket because he’s a stupid gentleman and brushing warm hands on your upper arm—is a good thing. He’s the good thing, the one that everyone looks to for hope, that everyone wants. The god among men, who leaves you little sticky notes and fumbles all his words and makes you trust his every compliment because he always says them like they’re just obvious truths.
And you can’t figure out how to hold that in your hands, even if you get to use both.
You don’t know how to wrap your head around the idea that you could just have something good.
“So.” Clark takes a step back, as if he’s trying to offer you space. “You, uh- You know.”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“And I’m guessing you figured it out after…” He trails off, and you sigh.
“After you flew me outside, then took off like a rocket? Yeah, Clark, that kind of gave it away.”
He frowns. “You didn’t know before?”
“I had a theory.” You mumble, and his brows furrow.
“But you didn’t know.”
You shake your head, and he groans.
“Darn it, I- I was really sure you knew. Wouldn’t have done that if- Shoot-“
“Clark.” You raise your voice, hugging yourself tighter, and he freezes. “Am I right?”
“Uh-“
“Are you Superman?”
“I-“ He lets out a slow breath, and nods. “Yeah.”
Clark seems to lock your gaze to his as he reaches up, and slowly pulls off his glasses.
It’s such a small shift. He stands a little taller, even as his features remain nervous and weary, and his face seems to almost shift. It’s the same face—you know, logically, that’s it’s the same face—but it’s like your head couldn’t fully connect the two into one, couldn’t hold them at the same time.
But you can now.
And your mouth falls open as Superman stares at you with an almost fearful expression.
“I- How?”
“The glasses?” He glances down to them with a frown. “Well, they’re hypnoglasses, so-“
“No, I mean- How did I not know?” You take a step back, shaking your head. “I- I talked to you every day and every night and it took me months to put it together, and that was only after I realized- Fuck-“
“Don’t- Wait-“ Clark takes a large step forward, arms twitching like he wants to reach for you. “The glasses make sure you don’t know, that’s the point of them, and it’s not like I told you-“
“Why?” Your voice is rising, and you take another step back. “Why are you telling me now, why- Why did you keep coming to me as Superman when I was talking to you as Clark, why- Which one of you is the real one-“
“Both. Both are real, there wasn’t- I’ve always been both- And I just wanted, I guess any reason to talk to you, so I sort off just indulged both, and-“ He takes another step forward, and you take another one back. “Can you please stop walking away? I know that you’re mad at me, and I- I understand, but- Please, just listen-“
“Why didn’t you hate me?” You blurt before you can stop yourself, everything rising so fast up your throat like an eruption, and Clark freezes.
“I couldn’t hate you.”
You shake your head, your back hitting the wall. “No, I- I was talking to both you and- You at the same time, and- I was-“ You cut yourself off, pressing further back, and Clark takes a smaller step forward.
“Are you worried that I was jealous of myself?”
You nod weakly, and Clark sighs.
“No,” he says your name, voice firm, and takes another step. “I mean- No. I mean, I thought about it. Which one would make you happier. But I kept finding that you were always happy, and I- I thought maybe if I told you, you’d be happy. And we could laugh about it, and you’d say something- Uh-“ He stops, barely a foot away. “I mean, it’s kind of stupid now.”
“What?” You whisper, and Clark frowns.
“Do you really want me to say it?”
You nod, and he runs a hand over his face.
“Just maybe- Like- I love you either way. Both ways. I want you both ways, and wow, what a great way this worked out, that I get to love both of you, because you’re the same person. How convenient.” His ears are a little red, and he mumbles. “Most of it was just going to be you saying you love me.”
You swallow. “How do you know I love you?”
“I- uh- I don’t? I mean, I do have a reason, but it might be not- Sound. And if I’m wrong, that’s fine and we can forget the whole thing, but-” He takes a half-step forward. “Your heart. It goes really fast, when I’m near you, and, uh-“ He coughs, eyes darting down your body. “I can- Sometimes- Not that I’m trying to, but it just- It happens, and I can’t control it-“
“Clark-“
“I can smell you.” He mumbles, and your eyes widen. “So- I know there’s something. Might be wrong about love, though.” He looks at you under hooded eyes, and your face might be burning. “Am I wrong?”
You want to tell him that he’s not wrong. To tell him that he’s not wrong, that you’ve loved him for longer than you care to say aloud, and fell for both version because it was him. It wasn’t just a craving not to be alone anymore, it was him. Your heart moved in the same rhythm because it was playing the same song. Love for Clark.
But you don’t want to mess it up. Say it wrong. Open your mouth and just start crying, because it’s so sweet and embarrassing all at once.
So you just push out, in barely a breath. “Do you want to be wrong?”
“No.” He answers so fast, and your nails dig into your sides.
“And- What would you have said?” You blink at him slowly, choosing every word so carefully. “In your… dream scenario?”
“That I love you, too.” He takes another step forward, and you don’t flinch away. There’s nowhere to run anyway. No reason to. “That I’ve wanted to tell you the whole time, because I don’t like lying to you but- I just wanted to make sure.”
“Make sure?” You frown. “What, that I wouldn’t- Turn you in?”
Clark’s eyes widen. “What? Gosh no, I- I just wanted to check that you felt the same and that- I don’t know, it would be worth it. Not that you’re not worth it. That me telling you would just- End in nothing. That I wouldn’t be putting you in that danger just to have gotten caught up in my feelings.”
You swallow, scanning over his open, handsome features. He means every word he says. He always does.
And you have to ask.
“Is it worth it?”
Clark nods, giving you a small grin. “Yeah. I’d say it is.”
You nod, staring at each other in the dark, and the moment maybe drags on for a million years. Or only a second. It doesn’t matter, because you’re here. With Clark standing over you, one of his arms braced next to your head and the other slowly, lightly tracing up your arm. And he loves you.
So you could waste away, and it would feel like you were drowning in daylight the whole time.
“Can I kiss you.” Clark whispers, and you nod.
“Yes, please.”
His hand trails up, sending shivers through your body and making your knees weak, and ends up resting on your face. He stares at you with such open affection and reverence, it’s going to put you in danger of crying again.
When he dips down, he just brush a soft, warm kiss over your cheek, and you grab a fistful of his shirt.
“Sorry.” He tries to lean back, eyes wide. “I- Uh- I should’ve asked you what you wanted, sweetheart, I’m sorry-“
“Clark.” You hold his panicked gaze, feeling his muscles flex as his breathing grows heavy. “I want you. Just- Touch me.”
His eyes dart down to your lips, voice hoarse. “Touch you?”
You nod, and his throat bobs.
“How much?”
“All of it.” You try to sound commanding, but it’s just sort of coming off needy.
He doesn’t seem to mind.
“All of it.” He echoes, and slowly leans down to ghost his lips over you. It makes your whole body light up, just from such a light touch, and you try to yank him down but he’s stronger. Doesn’t even budge an inch.
“Clark-“
“Are you sure you can take all of it?” He murmurs, lips still brushing over yours, and it’s not a challenge. It’s just a question of pure, true concern. “I mean, we can try, but if you want to stop, during any of it, you can just tell me and I’m never going to take it personally. Okay?”
You stare at him, and Jesus, you might be about to fall over just from that. He’s so close. He can’t be this close and just do nothing.
“Can you, uh- Just say that you want it, please?” Clark looks a little worried, his thumb tracing over your lower lip, and you smile.
“I want it.” You give him a small smirk. “Please.”
He stares at you for a moment, eyes flashing with something dark, and his voice drops to an octave you’ve never even heard it before.
“Alright.” He murmurs, and you suddenly realize exactly how pinned you are between him and the wall. “Whatever you want, baby.”
You barely get a second to process what that means, before Clark’s pulling you up into a long, deep, hot kiss. It’s consuming. Sets of every nerve in your body with how carefully he moves, how deliberately he holds you. How you feel both weightless and burning, in his arms and under his attention. His mouth works quickly against yours, like he’s been starved for it, all as his hands find a respectful place to rest on your body—under your thigh and around your back—and seems to be carefully holding back his weight over you.
It unravels you so fast. Lights a fire in your gut and makes your legs spread. Your hips grind for more friction, broken sounds of need falling from your lips. Clark dips down to kiss your neck and shoulders, and you yank on his hair when his hand on the back of your thigh slowly starts to rub higher and higher.
“Clark- Oh-“ You gasp as his knee pushes up between your thighs, and start to fuck yourself desperately against him. “God, please-“
“I know.” He mumbles, pressing a soft kiss over your lips. “I’ve got you, I’ll make it feel good, just-“ He grabs your hips, starting to drag them as a slightly different, rougher angle, and your head falls back with a moan. “There you go.”
His voice is gentle and deep in your ear, and he keeps kissing you almost anywhere he can reach, as you keep chasing release against him.
A loud, broken whine falls from your lips when he pulls away, right before your release.
“Sorry.” Clark kisses you again, groaning when you try to bite on his lower lip. “Just give me a moment, baby don’t want to do it here, and- Come on-“
He scoops you fully into his arms, bridal style, and you squeak as the air rushes past you. There’s barely a moment to register what’s happening before you’re flat on your back in a soft bed, and Clark is kissing you into the mattress.
His bed.
You’re in his bed.
But somehow, everything that’s happening feels like yours.
Clark is so sweet. With everything he does, he’s just good and sweet, and it’s going to drive you out of your mind. He asks again, before taking off your clothing, and when you nod feverishly, he kisses you again with a smile on his lips.
“You’re so pretty.” His hand rests carefully in your hair, and he pushes the kiss a little deeper. “You’re going to look even prettier when you cum, sweetheart, probably like a painting.”
You flush, a small moan escaping your lips, because somehow Clark just saying something like cum is dirtier talk than anything you’ve heard in your life.
He catches it. Of course he is.
He’s paying such good attention to you, rubbing a hand on your hips and letting you grind up against his bulge. Every few moments, his hand will trail up your side right as the need in pussy starts to unbearably ache, and it will offer a brief respite that just falls into more need.
It’s like he’s trying to learn everything, with almost nothing.
And worst of all, it’s working.
Clark leans up, watching you with a curious expression. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
Your mouth falls open, his words rushing straight into your dripping cunt, and Clark’s nostrils flare.
“Yeah?” He leans down, the hand on your waist slowly moving to draw big circles on your hips. “Do you like it when I say dirty things?” He says your name, voice still so gentle, and you like to sink into the sheets forever.
“Maybe.” You whisper, trying not to squirm as his hand moves slowly between your legs, rubbing against your inner thighs without ever touching where so you desperately need him. “But- I you don’t want to-“
Clark leans down, silencing you with a deep, hot kiss, and devouring your moan as his palm finally presses against your cunt.
He groans over you, starting to rub it back and forth at such a tortuous pace, and your mouth falls open in a long plea.
“Oh my god- Please- I- I can’t- I need more-“
“Relax, baby. I’ll give you more.” He mutters, and when you try to wiggle below him, all it takes a deeper press of his palm, and you’re trapped. “I’ll give you anything, don’t worry about me.”
You hum, and his words are like a drug. You don’t have to worry. You can just relax, because Clark says to, and he doesn’t say anything that isn’t true.
“Do you like your clothing?” He kisses a spot below your ear, words rolling through your body, and you barely shake your head before you hear the rip.
There’s not even a second to feel cold, before all of Clark’s heat is over you. He seems to have taken his clothing with yours—cock pressing against your pussy, back strong beneath your hands as you try to map out his body—and you’re so quickly lost in the feeling of just being close to him. Kisses over your face as he ruts against you and holds you with such care.
You’re going to implode, though, if he doesn’t touch you properly. And you’re about to start begging when suddenly Clark is pulling you both upright, so you’re falling over his chest and sat in his lap.
Clark grunts, as you writhe above him, and your eyes flick down.
You might be drooling. He’s palming himself with strict, controlled movements, his face pressed into your neck as he sucks dark marks on your throat.
“Is it…” You trail off, words broken up by a moan as Clark finds a sensitive spot. “Do- Is that part of Kryptonian- Fuck-“
Your back arches, as Clark’s hand moves to your dripping pussy, slowly sliding two fingers inside and crooking them right against that deep, hyper-sensitive spot.
“Don’t know.” He mumbles. “Never checked. Shit, you’re so soft, and-“ He grunts as you clench around his finger. “I’m going to wreck you, sweetheart, going to play this sweet pussy until it’s soaking my cock-“
“Clark-“ You whine. “Fucking- Don’t just say that-“
“Why not?” He smiles against your skin, starting to kiss his way back over your face. “You like it, don’t you. Want it all.” He pulls his finger out, and before you can grab his wrist, he spanks your pussy. Just once, lightly, not enough to cause more than a sting. But enough to make you yelp a prayer of his name.
“Oh- I-“ You go limp as he does it again, and you meet his hooded, arduous gaze with a soft whine. “Yes, Clark, God-“
He just keeps watching you. Grinding and rolling above him as he traces his thumb around your clit, then drags his fingers through your dripping folds.
He brings you arousal, gathered on his fingers, up to his mouth.
Licks it clean, with a low, guttural sound from his chest.
“So damn good.” He mutters, before pressing his thumb lightly to your mouth. “I swear I don’t think you’re real sometimes, sweetheart, you’re so- God-“
He groans as you suck on his thumb, moaning at the taste of your own need for him, and Clark drags you into a long, rough kiss. Falls flat on his back and starts to jerk his hips up into you, cock brushing torterously on your clit.
“Clark.” Your fingers scratch at his chest. “Please-“
“Right. Uh- C’mon.” He grabs your ass, shifting you so that he can see your puffy, soaked cunt, and nods to himself. “That’s good, yeah- Hold on, baby. Relax.”
You nod, but no amount of sweet words could’ve prepared you for this. How fucking good it feels as he lifts you up like it’s nothing, and slowly drags you down onto his cock. He’s splitting you open and moaning as he does it, looking up at you like you’re an angel while filling you up so good you can’t remember your own name.
He gives you a long moment to adjust, both your breathes ragged, an almost growling noise escaping his lips when you flutter around him.
You pout down at him, trying to drag yourself back and forth for a little friction, and that’s all it takes to get Clark moving.
He’s not going to let you do this yourself. He holds you by your hips and guides you back and forth on his cock, hitting every single spot inside of you, rutting up every few moments to kiss your cervix, and- Fuck-
“God, yes-“ You moan, throwing your head back as your dragged right up to the edge. “Clark- Yes, fuck- Feel so fucking big-“
He groans your name. “Don’t- If you keep talking I’m gonna- Fuck-“
“What?” You giggle breathily, and Clarks hands are going to leave bruises on you in the morning. It’s still not feeling him enough. “Fill me up? Fuck me stupid?”
Clark groans, twitching inside of you. “God, you got fuckin’ how much I- I wanna-“
“You said you’d give me everything.” You whisper, looking at him with your best glossy, needy eye. “I want all of you, Clark, please- Make me feel it, show me how much you- Oh-“
He flips you like you’re nothing, drawing out fully before slamming back in, and swallows the scream of his name with a harsh kiss.
“I’ll make you feel it, pretty girl.” He mutters, setting a rough, unforgiving pace. “Love you so much, I wanted to go slow, but- You want to get cockdrunk, don’t you. Want to stop using that big brain and just feel good.”
You moan, already so close to the edge. “Clark, please-“
“I told you, baby.” The kiss he gives you is almost taunting, with how he’s wrecking your cunt. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
And he does.
Clark fucks into you like he’s trying to leave a mark. Every kiss on your lips and face and neck seem made to brand you, and his hand worship your body with such care, but every touch is firm and certain. He maps your body with his hands and thrusts into you with such borderline fervor, you don’t think you’re ever going to feel anything but Clark again. It’s the only word you know. The prayer that falls from your lips, over and over until you’re shaking and burning like a live-wire, desperate for just some release.
Before you can even beg for it, Clark’s thumb finds your clit, and starts to rub it at an inhuman speed.
“Cum for me, darling.” He almost growls in your ear. “Show me how good it feels, fucking say my name-“
You scream, just as he wanted to, and almost white-out as your orgasm wrecks through your body. Your pussy squeezes around Clark, overwhelmed and dripping with his perfect abuse of your pleasure, and he moans in your ear as he cums. You might have passed out for a second, from the feeling of him holding you so tight, fucking you through both your orgasms and muttering your name, over and over as you float down.
He helps you clean up. Of course he does. Uses a warm cloth on the mess between your thighs, before carrying you to the bathroom. Starts the shower as you pee, then coaxes you into the warm shower, because you’re going to be sore in the morning.
You have to convince him to get in with you. You’re pretty sure trying not to make assumptions, or take advantage of you.
So ask him if you can stay, and try not to feel too big when he nods eagerly.
But you have him.
All of him.
And you’ve maybe never felt more peaceful than when you’re folded back in his arms, just resting in his bed.
“Was that good?” He mutters in your ear, and it’s not fair. How perfect he is.
You nod weakly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Yeah, did you-“
“It was amazing.” He turns his head to kiss your cheek, warm breath fanning over your cheek as he laughs. “Probably should’ve told you sooner, if this is what it got me.”
“Maybe.” You whisper. “But we’re still here, right?”
“Yeah.” Clark hums. “And I- I think I’m just happy I get to love you at all.”
You push on his chest to look at him, and when he smiles, you smile right back.
“I’m happy, too. And I- I do love you.” You lean down, letting your nose bump against his. “So much.”
Clark grins, pulling you down into a full, slow and lazy kiss, and you bask in it. The warmth on his body, and the light, happy feeling in your chest. Sinking deeper and deeper in, making you know that you don’t really need to see through the dark of Clark’s room.
You have him.
And that makes everything clear.
✦End note: Superman brainrot got me. guys✦
✦If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3✦
✦Buy me a coffee!☕️✦
✦Taglist (Fill out this form to be added!)✦
Summary: After your first time, you and Clark stay wrapped up together and talk :)
Word count: 3k+
Warnings: fluff
Request: i loveee your work!! can you please write some talk after their first time and it’s like clark’s favourite thing cause the readers always like yapping or always feels like she’s on a high or smth and he thinks it’s adorable or something similar? honestly i’ll love anything you write with clark :))
A/N:
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
It was quiet.
Very quiet.
Not the kind of quiet Clark was used to.
Not the faint rhythm of a city that never really let him forget it was alive. Not the layered, constant awareness he carried every second of every day.
This was different.
This quiet was small. Close. Intimate.
It wrapped around him instead of stretching endlessly outward.
Because the only thing he could hear now… was you.
Your breathing, still trying to find its rhythm again. A little uneven, a little soft, like your body hadn’t quite decided whether to rest or stay suspended in that lingering warmth.
And your heartbeat.
Just a little faster than normal. Not racing anymore, but not settled either. It fluttered in a way that made something in Clark’s chest tighten, something warm and almost disbelieving.
After sleeping with him.
For the very first time.
Clark felt… giddy.
It was such a strange, boyish feeling, so out of place with everything he was supposed to be. Grounded. Controlled. Steady.
And yet it bubbled up anyway, quiet and bright, like he couldn’t quite contain it.
Like he hadn’t been part of it himself.
Like he hadn’t been there with you, hadn’t felt every moment of it just as deeply.
His mind replayed it in fragments, not sharp or overwhelming, but soft, glowing at the edges.
The way you touched him. Careful at first, then more certain. Curious.
The way he touched you, slower than he’d ever moved in his life, like he was afraid of missing something if he went too fast.
The sounds you made. Quiet, breathy, honest in a way that made his chest ache.
How soft your skin felt beneath his hands. Warmer than he expected. Realer than anything he had ever held.
Every single detail felt etched into him, not just remembered but kept.
Like something he would carry for the rest of his life.
Clark lay on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other resting loosely around you. His fingers traced absent patterns along your arm, slow and careful, like he was still grounding himself in the fact that you were right there.
Still here.
That this hadn’t disappeared the moment it was over.
Like if he stopped touching you, even for a second, he might wake up and find it had all been something he imagined.
You were half draped over him, cheek pressed to his chest, your breath still uneven but softening. Your hair was slightly messy, warm against his skin, and every so often your nose brushed him when you shifted, small and absentminded.
There was a kind of lightness in you.
Clark had noticed it before, in quieter moments, but it felt stronger now.
Like something inside you had loosened.
Like your thoughts weren’t lining up neatly anymore, just spilling out, soft and unfiltered.
“I think,” you murmured, voice a little dreamy, “if I tried to stand up right now, I’d just… fall over.”
Clark huffed out a quiet laugh, the sound low and warm, vibrating beneath your cheek. His hand smoothed up and down your arm instinctively, soothing, affectionate, like he couldn’t help but take care of you even in the smallest ways.
“That so?” he asked softly.
“Yeah,” you said, tilting your head just enough to look up at him. Your eyes were bright, a little unfocused, and Clark felt that familiar, fond realization settle in.
You were about to start talking.
“Like my legs forgot how to be legs,” you continued, very serious about it. “Which feels unfair, considering I need them. Usually.”
Clark’s mouth curved into a soft smile, his gaze warm as it settled on your face. “We can file a complaint later.”
You snorted, the sound quick and unguarded, then immediately softened again like it melted out of you. Your hand drifted lazily across his chest, fingertips brushing over him in slow, wandering paths.
It wasn’t purposeful.
Just… curious.
Like you were still discovering him.
“You’re making jokes,” you murmured. “That’s not fair either.”
“No?” he asked gently.
“No,” you said, squinting at him slightly like you were trying to make a point but couldn’t quite keep your thoughts lined up. “You’re supposed to be… I don’t know. Serious and mysterious.”
Clark’s brow lifted just a little. “Is that what I’m supposed to be?”
You nodded, very solemn for about half a second before it softened again. “Yeah. Brooding. Definitely brooding. You’ve got the face for it.”
“I do?” he asked, amused.
“Yeah,” you said, reaching up and lightly touching his cheek like you were demonstrating. “Strong jaw. Thoughtful eyes. Very broody potential.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Clark said, though the smile tugging at his mouth betrayed him instantly.
He could never quite manage brooding around you.
Not when you looked at him like that.
Not when you touched him like he was something worth exploring.
Silence settled for a moment, but not the kind that felt empty.
Your fingers traced over the faint line of his collarbone, then up toward his shoulder, then back down again, slow and thoughtful. Like you were mapping him out, memorizing the shape of him through touch alone.
Clark let himself relax into it.
Into you.
Into the quiet miracle of this.
Your weight against him. Your warmth. The way your breathing was evening out little by little.
The way you stayed.
He wasn’t used to that part.
People didn’t usually stay like this with him.
Not knowing everything. Not feeling everything.
But you did.
And then, softly, like a thought you couldn’t quite hold in anymore, you spoke again.
“You know what I was thinking about just now?” you said, your voice softer this time, but no less full, like the thoughts were already lining up behind your lips, waiting their turn.
Clark shifted slightly beneath you so you were more comfortable, his arm tightening around you without even thinking about it, instinctive and careful all at once. His hand slid a little higher along your back, thumb brushing slow, absent circles there.
“What were you thinking about?” he asked, his voice low, steady, like he didn’t want to disturb whatever quiet little world you were in.
“How weird it is that this is real.” You gestured vaguely between the two of you, your hand brushing his shoulder, his chest, lingering there like you needed to confirm he was solid. “Like, you. Me. This whole… thing.”
His gaze softened further, something warm flickering behind his eyes. “Weird?”
“In a good way,” you added quickly, your nose scrunching a little. “In a ‘how did I get this lucky’ kind of way.”
Clark went still for a moment.
Not frozen, just… quiet in a different way. Like something in your words settled deeper than he expected, somewhere under everything else.
“You think you’re the lucky one?” he asked softly.
You blinked at him, then broke into a small, incredulous smile, like the question itself was ridiculous. “Clark.”
“What?” he asked, but there was something vulnerable there now, something quieter than before.
“You’re…” You waved a hand again, your thoughts clearly moving faster than your ability to organize them. “You’re you.”
He tilted his head, amused despite himself. “That’s a compelling argument.”
“No, I’m serious,” you insisted, pushing yourself up just enough to look at him properly. Your hair fell around your face, a little messy, a little perfect, and Clark had the sudden, overwhelming urge to just… look at you for a while.
“You’re kind,” you continued, counting it off slightly on your fingers like you needed structure to keep going. “And you’re patient. And you look at me like I’m… I don’t know. Important. Like I matter in some big, cosmic way.”
Clark’s hand came up to rest against your cheek without hesitation, like it belonged there. His thumb brushed lightly along your skin, slow and grounding.
“You do matter,” he said quietly. “More than you know.”
The sincerity in his voice made something in your chest ache in the best way. For a second, it almost stole your words.
Almost.
“I feel like I’m floating,” you admitted, your voice dropping softer now, like you were letting him in on something fragile. “Like everything’s a little brighter and a little slower. And I can’t stop thinking, which is probably annoying, I’m sorry, I just… I keep noticing things.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Clark murmured immediately, his thumb still moving gently against your cheek.
“I know, I just…” You exhaled, then continued anyway, because of course you did. “Okay, listen.”
He smiled faintly. “I’m listening.”
“Like your heartbeat,” you said, settling your cheek back down against his chest as if to prove your point. “It’s really steady. I noticed it earlier, but now it’s like… I don’t know, it’s calming. Like if I just stayed here long enough, I’d start matching it.”
Clark’s fingers stilled for just a second at that, something in your words catching him off guard, before they resumed their slow tracing along your arm, even gentler now.
“And the way you held me,” you continued, voice softer, more thoughtful now, like you were replaying it in your head. “You were so careful. Like… not in a weird way. Just… like you were making sure I was okay the whole time. Like nothing bad could happen.”
Clark swallowed quietly, his hand shifting slightly on your back, holding you a little closer without even realizing he was doing it.
“I was making sure you were okay,” he said, just as softly.
“I know,” you said, smiling a little against his chest. “That’s what I mean. You didn’t rush anything. You kept checking on me without making it feel like… I don’t know, like a checklist or something. It just felt… natural.”
Your fingers traced a slow line along his chest, thoughtful, absent.
“And safe,” you added quietly. “I felt really safe with you.”
That landed somewhere deep in him.
Not loud, not overwhelming. Just… solid. Like something locking into place.
“I’m glad,” he said, his voice low, steady, but there was something more in it now. Something fuller.
“And your hand,” you continued, like your brain had already moved on but your heart hadn’t quite caught up. You took his hand and guided it again, pressing it more firmly against your side. “It fits perfectly here. Like it was supposed to go here. Which sounds dramatic, but I’m right.”
Clark let out a quiet breath, his fingers naturally settling where you placed them. “I think you might be.”
“And earlier,” you went on, clearly not done, “when you pulled me closer like this—” you nudged yourself closer to demonstrate, even though you were already very much there “—that was unfair.”
“Unfair?” he echoed, a hint of a smile returning.
“Yeah,” you said, very serious about it. “Because how am I supposed to recover from that? You just… did that. Like it was nothing.”
Clark huffed out a soft laugh. “I didn’t realize I was causing lasting damage.”
“Oh, it’s permanent,” you said immediately. “I’m never leaving now, by the way. Just so you’re aware.”
“I’ll start clearing some closet space,” he replied, just as easily.
You hummed approvingly, then continued, because of course you did.
“And your apartment smells like you,” you added, very seriously.
Clark blinked. “It does?”
“Yeah,” you said, nodding slightly. “Like… clean laundry and something warm. I don’t know how to explain it. But it’s nice. It makes me feel safe.”
That did something to him.
Something quiet and steady that settled right under his ribs, heavier than before but not uncomfortable.
Good.
He swallowed softly, his hand shifting again at your back, holding you just a little closer. “I’m glad.”
You relaxed more fully against him, like that single sentence anchored you further into the moment.
“And I don’t want to move,” you went on, your voice turning softer, almost sleepy now, but still carrying that bright, wandering energy. “Because this feels too good. Like if I move, it’ll… I don’t know. Break the moment or something.”
“It won’t,” Clark said gently.
“I know,” you said, even as you shook your head a little. “But it feels like it might. So I’m just going to stay here. Forever.”
“I don’t think I’d mind that,” he replied, a small smile in his voice.
You tilted your head up again, studying him like you were trying to memorize his face this time, your gaze lingering on every detail.
“You’re really okay with me talking this much?” you asked.
Clark let out a quiet breath, something warm settling in his chest as he looked at you.
“It’s my favorite part.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “What is?”
“This,” he said simply. “You talking. Just… being like this. Letting me hear everything.”
Your expression softened, something a little shy flickering through before your usual warmth returned.
“Really?”
“Really.”
He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear with slow, careful fingers. He let his hand linger there, thumb brushing your cheek again, softer this time.
“You don’t hold anything back,” he continued, his voice softer now, like he was choosing each word carefully, like this mattered more than he knew how to fully explain. “You say what you feel, even when it’s messy or doesn’t quite make sense yet. I like that. I like knowing what makes you happy. What you notice. What you think about.”
He paused just slightly, his thumb still tracing slow, absent circles against your skin, grounding himself in the feeling of you.
“It feels like I get all the important parts,” he added quietly.
You smiled at that, small and warm and a little dazzled, like something in his words settled somewhere deep and unexpected.
“So you like that I ramble,” you said, tilting your head just enough to look up at him, a hint of teasing slipping back in.
“I like that I get to hear what’s going on in your head,” he corrected gently, his gaze steady on yours.
There was no hesitation in it. No hint of tolerance.
Just… fondness.
You studied him for a second, really studied him, like you were trying to figure out if he meant it as much as it sounded like he did.
Then your smile grew, softer, deeper, something a little more touched.
“That might be the nicest way anyone’s ever said ‘you talk too much.’”
Clark chuckled, the sound low and warm, his chest moving slightly beneath you. His hand slid down to rest at the small of your back, his thumb brushing slow, steady circles there, like he couldn’t quite stop touching you.
“For the record,” he said, “I don’t think you talk too much.”
You narrowed your eyes at him slightly, playful but suspicious. “You don’t have to say that just because we—”
“I’m not,” he said quietly, cutting you off before you could finish, not sharp, just certain.
That made you pause.
“…okay,” you said, softer now.
He held your gaze for a second longer, like he wanted to make sure you believed him.
Then you let yourself relax again, settling back down against him, your cheek finding its place on his chest like it belonged there, like it had always belonged there.
“Good,” you murmured. “Because I’m not done.”
“I figured,” he said, closing his eyes briefly, just to feel you there, the weight of you, the warmth of you, the way you fit so easily against him.
You let out a content little sigh, your fingers continuing their lazy, wandering path over him, tracing nothing in particular. Just… feeling.
“Okay,” you said softly. “Next thought.”
Clark smiled to himself, eyes still closed, his arm tightening around you just a little, instinctive, protective, like he was holding something fragile and precious all at once.
“I’m listening.”
You paused, like you were sorting through everything in your head, your fingers slowing slightly as your thoughts tried to line themselves up.
Then you spoke again, softer this time.
“I think…” you started, then hesitated just a little. “I think this is my favorite version of you.”
Clark’s eyes opened.
He looked down at you, something in his expression shifting, quiet and attentive.
“Yeah?” he asked, just as softly.
“Yeah,” you said, your voice a little more grounded now, though still warm, still floaty around the edges. “Not the reporter. Not… anything else.”
Your hand moved slightly against his chest, like you were anchoring yourself to him as you spoke.
“Just this,” you continued. “You being… soft. And close.”
You hesitated for a fraction of a second, like the next word mattered more.
“And mine for a little while.”
Something deep and steady in Clark shifted at that.
Not sudden.
Not overwhelming.
Just… certain.
His hand came up again, cradling the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair, holding you there like something precious, something he didn’t want to lose.
“I’m always yours,” he said before he could overthink it.
The words left him easily.
Too easily.
And for a second after, he didn’t move at all.
You went very still.
Not tense.
Just… still, like everything in you paused to take it in.
Clark felt it. The way your breathing hitched just slightly. The way your fingers stilled against him.
For a brief moment, he wondered if he’d said too much.
If he’d gone too far.
Then you smiled against his chest, softer than before, something quieter and more certain in it now.
Your fingers curled slightly in his shirt, holding onto him in a way that felt instinctive.
“Okay,” you whispered, like you were tucking that away somewhere safe, somewhere you could keep it.
Clark let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his hand smoothing gently over your hair.
A small pause settled between you.
Comfortable.
Full.
Then, very quietly, already drifting but still you, still full of thoughts that refused to fully settle:
“Also… I think I’m definitely not walking anytime soon.”
Clark let out a soft laugh, the sound fond and a little breathy, his lips brushing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
“That’s alright,” he murmured. “You don’t have to go anywhere.”
“Good,” you mumbled, your voice already softer, sleepier. “Because I wasn’t planning to.”
Your hand shifted slightly, curling more securely against him, like even in your half-drifting state you wanted to make sure he was still there.
Clark’s arm tightened around you in response, instinctive, protective, his hand resting warm and steady against your back.
And you stayed.
Exactly where you were.
Tangled up with him, your quiet rambling slowly fading into softer, sleepier murmurs, your words blurring into half-sentences and little hums of contentment.
Clark didn’t interrupt.
He didn’t move.
He just listened.
To every word. Every pause. Every small, drifting thought that slipped past your lips.
summary: it's not your fault you think soldier boy's just adorable first thing in the morning
pairing: soldier boy x reader (gn) | genre: fluff | word count: 1.5k (this is short, sorry !!)
warnings: soldier boy (language, mostly. sexual innuendos), implied morning-after (implied past sexual acts), probably ooc ben (i have not watched the boys, i just know he curses a lot and looks hot)
notes: clem's idea !! @clemeowntine
Sunlight streams through the window, a faint breeze fluttering the curtains. The shadows of them dance across your back, rippling like waves in the ocean over the sheets twisted between your legs. It’s peaceful, quiet in the way the world gets when you get a moment to breathe. There’s a faint smell of laundry detergent in the air, and you wrinkle your nose, unsure how the scent made it into your bedroom. It’s not a bad one, just a little out of place.
You blink your eyes open, stifling a yawn in the crook of your elbow. You’re on your stomach, a pillow turned vertically under you, wrapped up in your arms. There’s a dent in it from where your head’s been laying, and you note you must have been asleep for a while. Hauling yourself upright, you rest your weight on your forearms. Somewhere, tangled around your legs, in the sheets; hooked around one ankle, one foot exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. You give a half-hearted tug on the quilt, not surprised when it doesn’t give. You settle back into the quiet, turning onto your side and savouring the gentle ache in your lower stomach.
You smile sleepily, recalling last night. For once, it was strangely gentle at your insistence. Something soft, relaxed, no rush. For once, there was nothing coming after you, and you needed to have a night with him that wasn’t a blaze of touches. Not that it wasn’t intense, because it was, but it was intense in the softest way, where emotions and careful touches do the talking. He’d still been Soldier Boy last night, because that façade rarely slips, even around someone he trusts as much as you.
This morning is different. The man beside you in bed isn’t Soldier Boy; not some renegade patriot symbolizing the ghosts of a nation’s war dreams from eighty years ago. No, this morning, it’s Ben who sleeps soundly beside you. He’s sprawled on his back, one bare leg hooked around the blankets, which explains why you can’t move them. One arm is stretched out, and you distantly remember it being under your head when you’d fallen asleep against him. You may have moved, but his arm didn’t, still reaching for you even though you’re right there.
You slide across the mattress, curling yourself into his side and resting your head back on his arm. You move slowly, not wanting to wake him. He grunts once in his sleep when your head hits his pillow, but that’s it. Exhaling slowly, you throw your leg over his, toss an arm over his waist, and let yourself soak in the hush of morning.
You don’t know if you fully fall asleep again or not, but the next thing you take note of is that Ben’s turned in your grip, letting himself curl into you. His arm is still under your head, your leg still over his, but he’s made himself smaller. His head rests just in the crook of your neck, soft breathing tickling your shoulder. He’s warm, as always, the serum in him making him a constant space heater; something you’ve taken advantage of many times during the colder months. You smile faintly, thinking of all the times he’s teased you for wrapping yourself around him on the couch despite being in a sweater, eagerly seeking out his warmth.
You reach a hand up to run it through his hair, taming in the wild strands and smoothing them back from where they curl against his forehead. Each pass is careful, teasing out the knots without waking him up. Slowly but surely, his hair untangles beneath your touch, until your fingers pass through it unburdened. Your lips brush his forehead, feather-light and so soft he’d barely feel it if he was awake.
You turn your attention the rest of him, tracing your fingers over his brows, the ridge of his nose that’s crooked from one too many breaks, the ridges of his cheekbones that dip to his jaw. You spend extra time on his cheeks, fingertips touching the freckles that dust his face; there’s a collection of them on his right cheek near his nose that look like an ‘M’ that you find particularly interesting.
“Whatever the fuck is it you're doin', quit it,” a husky voice says, lazily swatting your arm away.
“Ask nicely,” you tease, kissing the tip of Ben’s nose as he grumbles something under you.
“Yeah, yeah, fuckin' please or whatever.”
“Please what?”
His eyes aren’t opened yet, but if they were, you’re certain he’d be rolling them right now. “Quit it.”
“Ask nicely,” you say a second time, giggling lightly at his frustration.
“You’re a pain in my ass,” he mutters.
“And yet, you’re not stopping me.”
You’re right, he’s not stopping you. Your fingers are back on his face, softly tracing along his jawline from one sideburn to the other. The short beard he’s sporting is rough under your hand, but you don’t mind the friction. Then, almost imperceptibly, he sighs through his nose and inches closer to your hand, pressing your full palm to his cheek. Your eyebrows raise in surprise.
“What’s this all about, mister?” you say, attempting a half-sultry tone.
“Oh, lay off it with the fuck-me voice. Ain’t a good look, sweetheart.”
You give him an exaggerated frown, already getting way too much joy out of riling him up. It’s not going to result in anything, and you don’t intend it to. Just ticking him off enough that he pins you under his weight and gives you his undivided attention is all you need. And it’s working.
Ben leans in to kiss you, and you turn your head, shoving your hands against his chest. He blinks, stunned.
“The fuck was that about?”
“Oh, nothing. Just not in the mood.”
His eyes narrow. “You were about to climb me like a tree ten seconds ago.”
You have to try way too hard to hold back your laughter. “And? That was ten seconds ago.”
If it were anyone else teasing him like this, they’d be a hole in the ground by now. But there’s something about you that makes him hesitate. Maybe it’s the way you look like one insult might kill you (it won’t, he very quickly discovered. You can take it just as well as you can dish it). Maybe it’s the gentleness you have whenever you do anything. Ben’s convinced you could look like an angel even taking someone’s head off.
What it really is, in all honesty, is the way you look at him like he’s human. Like he’s more than just a washed-up sex symbol. You look at him, and he sees a future in your eyes, where he’s a person with a face and a name that isn’t tainted by patriotism. Maybe it’s the softness you bring into his life, the chances at all the things he never knew he could have, that make him okay with letting you push him around. Anything to make you stay. And apparently, that includes letting your teeth nip his bicep.
He winces just a touch; not from pain, but the unexpectedness of it. Your teeth nip gently once, twice, three times at the skin on his bicep, and he cocks his head in confusion.
“The fuck’s that for?” he says, voice rough and low.
“Just felt like it.”
“You just felt like it?” he mocks, pitching his voice in a poor imitation of yours.
You laugh airily. “You’re cute in the mornings, that’s all.”
He huffs once. “Alright, that’s enough outta you.”
In one smooth movement, he flips you onto your back, spreading himself out over you and pushing you into the mattress with his weight. You laugh in that pinched way you do when something’s pressing on your chest, like the air rushes out faster than it can get back in. He kisses you deeply, tongue sweeping into your mouth for just a second before he lets you go.
“Ben, get off me,” you whine breathlessly, pushing at his chest.
He doesn’t move, just winking at you and quirking his mouth up in a smile. “You had it comin’, sweetheart.”
You bite his arm once more, just because you can, and his brows furrow. “Quit that too.”
“Why? You’re cute.”
You smooth a thumb between his brows, the furrow dissolving against Ben’s will. “I am not cute. Dunno where the fuck you’re gettin’ that idea from.”
“You are cute. You’re always cute.”
He huffs against your neck, sucking a hickey onto your skin in retaliation.
“Ben!” you squeal. “Someone’s gonna see it!”
“Good. Let ‘em know you’re mine. Even if you do weird shit to me.”
The morning drags on, soft sunlight and gentle heat, sleepy warmth tangling up between your bodies. You do nothing more than lay there, letting Ben’s weight on you ground you, reminding you of how lucky you are to get this with him. This is the life he deserves, cuteness aggression and all.
Some fluff where Bucky and Reader always spoon, but one day Reader decides she wants to be the big spoon. It gets comical cause of the size difference but in the end Bucky realizes he likes being held just as much as he likes being the holder.
Bucky had always been the big spoon.
It wasn’t something you’d discussed, not really—it just happened that way, naturally, inevitably, like gravity. He fit behind you like he was designed for it, long body curved around yours, one arm heavy and warm across your middle, chin tucked over your shoulder. Some nights his metal hand rested against your ribs, cool at first before it warmed to you; other nights he kept it curled around your waist like he was afraid he might crush you if he relaxed too much.
You loved it. You loved the way he breathed against your neck, the way his chest rose and fell at your back, the way his thumb traced slow, sleepy circles over your stomach until you drifted off.
It was always like that.
Until one night, it wasn’t.
You woke up sometime past midnight, the room washed in soft blue from the city lights outside. Bucky was asleep behind you, breathing deep and even, his arm anchored around you like a seatbelt. You lay there for a moment, listening to him, feeling that familiar swell of affection that always hit hardest when he was like this—unguarded, peaceful.
And then the thought hit you, uninvited but persistent.
What if you held him?
You shifted carefully, lifting his arm and rolling just enough to face him. He grumbled in his sleep but didn’t wake, face slack and soft in a way only you ever got to see. His hair was a mess, lashes dark against his cheeks. He looked… smaller, somehow. Not physically—he was still Bucky, still broad and solid—but emotionally. Vulnerable.
You swallowed.
“Okay,” you whispered to yourself. “We can do this.”
The problem became apparent almost immediately.
You scooted closer, trying to maneuver yourself behind him, but his shoulders were wide. Like, absurdly wide. You pressed your chest to his back and stretched your arm around his middle, only to come up short by several inches.
You frowned.
“Nope. That’s not right.”
You tried again, wriggling closer, nearly kneeing him in the thigh. Your arm barely made it halfway around his torso. Your cheek pressed between his shoulder blades instead of against his neck like his usually did with you.
From behind, Bucky let out a sleepy sound—half hum, half grunt.
“Doll?” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep. “You okay?”
You froze, arm still awkwardly draped across him like an afterthought.
“Yep,” you said quickly. “Just—uh. Adjusting.”
He shifted slightly, muscles flexing under your cheek, and you almost gave up right there. But then he settled again, relaxed, unaware.
Determined, you tried a different tactic. You hooked your arm higher, over his chest, fingers splayed against his sternum. It wasn’t quite a spoon—more like you were clinging to him from behind—but it was closer.
You tucked your face against his back and smiled, proud of yourself.
For exactly three seconds.
Bucky shifted again, this time more fully awake. He blinked, frowned, then stilled.
“…Why does it feel like I’m being attacked by a sleepy raccoon?” he asked.
You snorted, pressing your face into his back to muffle your laughter. “I’m spooning you.”
There was a pause.
“You’re… what?”
“I wanted to be the big spoon,” you said defensively. “Just for once.”
Another pause. You felt him process it, felt the way his body went very still beneath you.
“…You’re too small,” he said finally, not unkindly. Just factual.
“Rude.”
“I’m just sayin’,” he added, shifting slightly so he could glance back at you. One eyebrow lifted. “You’re more like… medium spooning a very large knife.”
You huffed. “Turn around. Let me try again.”
Amused now, he rolled onto his other side, facing away from you again. “Alright. Have at it, Sergeant.”
You scooted closer, this time wedging your knee behind his, chest pressed to his back. You wrapped both arms around him, fingers just barely meeting at his middle if you strained.
“There,” you said triumphantly. “See? Perfect.”
“Mm,” he murmured, voice softer now. He shifted back just a little, settling into you. “You’re shaking.”
“That’s because I’m holding up you,” you said. “You weigh like a thousand pounds.”
He chuckled quietly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your arms. “You don’t have to—”
“No,” you said firmly, tightening your hold. “Let me.”
He went quiet after that.
Minutes passed. You expected him to wiggle, to tease you, to turn back around and pull you into his chest like always. But he didn’t. Instead, he relaxed—really relaxed. His shoulders dropped. His breathing evened out again, slower this time.
You felt it when he leaned back into you, just a little.
Your heart squeezed.
“You okay?” you whispered.
“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Just… didn’t realize how nice this feels.”
Your grip softened, arms resting more naturally around him now. One hand slid up to his chest, thumb brushing over his heartbeat.
“You’re allowed to be held too,” you murmured.
He swallowed. You felt it.
“Guess I forget that sometimes,” he admitted quietly.
You pressed a kiss to his back, right between his shoulders. He reached back then, metal hand covering yours, anchoring it there.
“Don’t get used to it,” he said, voice rough again. “Tomorrow night I’m stealing you back.”
You smiled into his skin. “Deal.”
But when he shifted closer to you, when his body melted into your hold like he’d been waiting for permission, you knew he’d remember this.
M.I.R.A: Turbulence detected! Classified as sonic disruption of codename: Superman. Initiating descent to troposphere; handoff protocol engaged for final homeward guidance. Welcome home, traveler.
Divider by me :)
K25-FILES: Even heroes need a little… diversion. Five extra adventures await in the Kinktober log, don’t keep them waiting.
Off the record - ♠
A healing touch - ♠
Where love lands - ♡
Between love and hate (ft. Lex Luthor) - ♠
Bombshell: Attorney at law - ♡
Superfreak - ♠
Three inches from heaven - ♠♡
Good girls swallow - ♠♡
Clark Kent: $ex toy connoisseur - ♠♡
Arguments worth moaning over - ♠♡
Twice the man - ♠♡⚠
Deleted scenes from a movie night - ♠♡
Pt.1 A-Lister in the making - ♡
Pt.2 Starstruck - ♡
Not quite a trustfall - ♡
Tears (at friendsgiving) - ♠♡
A heart at flight risk - ♠♡
Distant lover - ♠ ☹♡ NEW!!
The secret life of Miss Honey:
As a devoted teacher, you never expected to stumble into temporary parenthood or to find Clark stepping naturally into the role beside you. Caring for your student brings you and Clark closer than ever, blurring the line between friendship and something achingly tender. Fostering her might be temporary… but the family you're forming feels anything but.
Chapter 1 - ♡
Chapter 2 - ♡⚠
Chapter 3 - ♡
Chapter 4 - ♡⚠
Chapter 5 - ♡
Adventures in cape-wearing childcare:
M.I.R.A: Alert!! We’ve stumbled onto an infinite timeline, traveler. One without a clear beginning or fixed end. Expect minor continuity blurs as files are generated on request. Logs are arranged here in loose chronological order, with new entries surfacing as your signals arrive. Safe travels!
As I’ve mentioned before on my blog, I usually don’t read unfinished stories (I’m an impatient reader, sue me), but The Secret Life of Miss Honey?!?!?!? I just spent my morning reading this and oh my god?????
Not only is it such a unique storyline, it’s soooo wonderfully and beautifully written, I cried a lil bit while reading chapter 4
The cutest friends-to-lovers, parents before getting together, story ever and everyone needs to read it asap!!!
Series Summary: Unable to control your abilities, you’re stuck in the present with Billy Butcher, his team, and America’s first asshole. At this point, you’ve become Soldier Boy’s personal punching bag. But when an accident leaves you stranded in 1942, you run into a familiar face and suddenly rely on your future tormentor’s help as your only hope.
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x supe!Reader
Warnings: 18+ due to language and mature themes, reader is a supe with chronokinesis (time manipulation), a lot of time travel talk, set partially in 1942 and the present (alternate S3 ending), PTSD, Soldier Boy before Soldier Boy (aka no powers yet, plus meet his childhood home and parents), slight Beauty/Beast vibes, enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff, humor, angst
A/N: Been wanting to write about time travel again since this fun one-shot. Got the idea while writing Bad Reputation years ago but never got to it. Felt challenged again after rewatching the Community episode where Dean Pelton whines, "Time travel is really hard to write about." Welp, challenge accepted 😂🤍
Main Masterlist || Soldier Boy Masterlist || Tag List
Chapter 1: Of All the Gin Joints…
Chapter 2: Is This the 40s?
Chapter 3: I’m Going To Be a Lady If It Kills Me
Chapter 4: After All, Tomorrow Is Another Day
Chapter 5: We'll Always Have Paris
Chapter 6: I Don't Mind a Reasonable Amount of Trouble
Chapter 7: Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!
Chapter 8: Frankly, My Dear, I Don't Give a Damn
Chapter 9: As Time Goes By
Chapter 10: Here's Looking at You, Kid
Chapter 11: When You’re Slapped, You’ll Take It and Like It
Chapter 12: You’re Not Just a Man, You’re a Monument!
Chapter 13: It's Alive! It's Alive!
Chapter 14: I'm Going to Have a Lot of Drinks
Chapter 15: I May Be a Thief, but I Am Not a Cheat
Chapter 16: I Don’t Care What the Papers Say!
Chapter 17: The Stuff That Dreams Are Made of
Chapter 18: Love Means Never Having to Say You’re Sorry
Chapter 19: You’re Gonna Need a Bigger Boat
Chapter 20: What We’ve Got Here Is Failure to Communicate
Chapter 21: Round Up the Usual Suspects
Chapter 22: There’s No Place Like Home
Chapter 23: The World Is Not a Pleasant Place to Be…
Chapter 24 – …Without Someone to Love
Epilogue: Until It Ends, There Is No End
|| SERIES COMPLETE ||
One-Shots & Drabbles:
A Study in Emerald (1942)
Headcanons, Imagines & Other:
💌 15 Questions about creating TAT
💌 Headcanon: Would Ben sacrifice himself for you in a worst case scenario?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
If you have an AO3 account and have watched Lucifer, you NEED to read this fic as soon as possible!!!!! Not only is it a POC!Bi!reader (also writer of Honeybun), it has all of my favourite tropes: enemies to lovers, fake dating/marriage, fwb, all while still being considered a slowburn (feelings-wise). Not only that, but it’s freaking huge, 45 juicy chapters, 200k+ words.
I’ll be honest, I don’t read Lucifer fics (I hate how Chloe is often portrayed as the bad guy, though no shade to anyone!!!) but this story is an exception as it is so much more. It is simply a genuine love story between two very hurt individuals who try to overcome obstacles thrown at them together.
Here’s a quote from it just to show you guys how beautifully written this is: “The devil was a creature without God, a puppet without strings, a moon without a sun. He was without a purpose. A puppet can bring great joy in the hands of a skilled and benevolent marianette, but a puppet without strings can only lie there, collecting dust, heavy in some dark forgotten corner. A moon without the light of the sun is just a rock in space, orbiting around some planet too distant to touch. It was alone and cold in the soundless vacuum of space.”
HOW BEAUTIFUL IS THAT MY DUDES??????
I’m in the process of rereading it for the third time and I completely forgot how captivating it is! As someone with ADHD, I often end up not finishing long as fuck fics because I get easily distracted and go on to read other stuff, but this one has kept me sat for the last 3 days. I kid you not, my mother was concerned about me because I hadn’t left my bed in 4 hours (I was too invested in the plot!!).
Needless to say, it will forever remain in my top 10 fics of all time.
Summary: You’ve had your eye on Ellie for a while, so when the two of you finally hit it off at a party, you dive head first into romance with her. Navigating the unhealed wounds from both of your pasts, and the growing pains of adulthood isn’t always easy but you find a way to work through it with Ellie.
Warnings: Eventual smut (quick to romance slow to fuck), Incredibly fluffy and romantic, TW: drugs and alcohol, a little bit of dealer!ellie sprinkled in, Dina x Jesse, disaster lesbians navigating their first big girl relationship, Ellie is an awkward nerd most of the time
A/N: This is an exercise in literally just writing what I want, even if only a handful of people see it. This is cross-posted to ao3
Y’all, this right here is the one of the greatest fics I have ever read. As a POC and someone who is a part of the big titty committee, I had never related to a fic as much as this one. Definitely one of the greatest things I’ve read (multiple times)
