oops another oc :: carolina 'caro' carlton in 'daylight'
( tsitp season three )
Carolina Carlton didn't know what to expect when she met Conrad Fisher. She'd heard whispers around campus of a new transfer who had all the girl's heads turning, but what she actually sees when she meets him is someone in need of something beyond romance or a quickie before class.
With sad puppy dog eyes and a heart still hung up on his ex, Caro takes it upon herself--with the help of Agnes of course--to fulfill one goal by the end of the year: force Conrad Fisher to have some good old fashioned California fun.
Of course, her plan came with unintended consequences four years down the line.
Mainly, being invited to his family home as emotional support when he decides to surprise his family at a luncheon honoring his late mother. Where his then ex-girlfriend decided to announce her engagement to his brother to the shock and horror of everyone there.
So when he loses his job and suddenly uproots his whole life, Caro can't exactly abandon him, so what does she do?
Pretend to be his girlfriend of course.
It's only until the end of the summer, after all, how hard could it be?
( shout out to @come-along-pond for being my spite oc buddy )
Gus could have said “No” when Conrad Fisher asked her to come to his late mother’s garden dedication at Cousins Beach. She knew he needed the moral support though, with the whole “his brother dating his first love” thing.
Besides, Conrad was one of her closest friends. He was even one of the few people who knew the real reason she wanted to be a lawyer after originally wanting to be a simple teacher in undergrad.
The only problem being Gus was hopelessly, tragically in love with Conrad.
She would do anything for him though- even if that meant meeting the girl that broke his heart and the remaining family members that never quite understood him.
OC HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE 2025 ; day sixteen - caught in hd
When Shiloh Hughes met Conrad Fisher, they bonded over multiple things. They hadn't realized another thing they shared was childhood summers in Cousins, a now abandoned and rumored to be haunted ghost town on the beach. A house that Conrad still has access to, even if he hasn't been since his mother became one of the many supposed ghosts, so they grab a group and decide to go, filming their vacation for proof of haunting. But the rumors may not just be rumors, and there may be more than just Susannah Fisher roaming the town
Warnings: emotional manipulation, heartbreak, unrequited love, cheating (kissing), emotional breakdown, vulnerable intimacy, referenced past sexual content
Tessa didn’t expect to see him there. Not in Conrad’s room. Not sitting at the edge of the bed with his hands clasped between his knees like he was waiting for her.
But he was. Jeremiah Fisher—golden boy, heartbreak artist, the walking memory of everything she used to want—looked up as she opened the door and froze.
Her stomach twisted. Her fingers curled into the hem of Conrad’s sweatshirt. She hadn’t even realized she was still wearing it.
“I don’t think—”
“Please,” he said. Just that. And for a second, he looked like the boy who used to sit next to her on the dock at Cousins, swinging their legs over the water and brushing her pinky with his. She stepped inside.
The door clicked shut behind her, soft and final. Neither of them moved. The air between them was thick, all the words they never said crammed into the space like insulation. She leaned against the dresser. He stayed on the bed.
“You look…” He trailed off, eyes flicking over her. “Different.”
“I am different,” she said, not bothering to soften it. “That tends to happen when someone breaks your heart.” Jeremiah winced. Visibly. Good.
“I didn’t mean to.”
Tessa gave a hollow laugh. “You never do.”
He blinked, clearly not expecting her to hit back so fast.
“I just…” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I heard you were here and I thought maybe—I don’t know. We haven’t talked since—”
“Since you decided I wasn’t enough,” she cut in. Her voice was calm. Too calm. “Yeah. I remember.”
Silence. She watched the way his jaw clenched, the way he looked down like maybe the floorboards could tell him what to say.
He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Then finally: “I missed you.”
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t breathe. Just looked at him like he was a pop quiz she hadn’t studied for—something she used to care about. Something that didn’t matter anymore.
“Don’t say that,” she said. “Not until you’re ready to hear what I really have to say.”
And then she pushed off the dresser, crossed the room, and sat down on the opposite side of the bed. Not close. Not anymore. Just enough to look him in the eye when she broke his heart back.
—————————
Flashback
It started on the water. Late July. That thick, syrupy heat where the air shimmered above the dock and the world felt soft around the edges, like a secret she wasn’t supposed to know yet.
Tessa was half-draped over a giant neon-yellow float, her fingertips skimming the surface, eyes closed beneath the sun. Meghan was next to her in a matching tube, legs dangling off the side, laughing at something one of the boys had said—Trey, maybe, or Max. One of Jeremiah’s other summer friends, the ones who showed up tan and charming and always slightly too confident.
She didn’t care. She was here. Floating. Warm. Happy. Jeremiah had been in and out of the water all afternoon, diving off the side of the boat, flipping his hair like a golden retriever, flashing grins that made the girls giggle and Tessa’s stomach knot in ways she never quite knew how to name.
She’d spent years loving him quietly. From a distance. From the seat beside him at bonfires, from the other end of the couch during movie nights, from behind her sunglasses when he was chasing waves or girls that weren’t her.
But that day felt different. She didn’t know why. She just knew she couldn’t stop smiling.
“God,” Meghan said, tossing a wet arm over her face, “if I die right now, bury me in the sand and tell my ghost to chill.”
Tessa laughed, loud and unfiltered, leaning into the float and kicking her feet lazily. Her hair clung to her shoulders. Her cheeks ached from smiling. It was the kind of happiness that didn’t need explanation.
“You’re sure happy,” a voice said behind her.
She startled slightly—didn’t realize he’d climbed onto the float until she felt the weight of him shift behind her, one knee brushing hers underwater, his arm slung loosely along the rim of the tube. Jeremiah. Of course. She turned her head, heart stuttering.
“I’m at my favorite place,” she said softly. “With my favorite people. How could I not be?”
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That include me?”
Her breath caught. The answer sat right on her tongue—obvious, reckless, true. “You’re not not on the list,” she teased, aiming for breezy, but it came out quieter than she meant.
His gaze dipped to her mouth, and her stomach flipped so hard she almost lost her balance. He was closer now. So close she could smell sunscreen and lake water and the faint burn of his last beer.
“Good,” he murmured.
And then—he kissed her. No hesitation. No audience. Just him and her and the hush of the lake around them. His lips were soft, careful at first. A question. Then firmer. A promise. His hand found the curve of her hip, anchoring her like he’d always meant to.
The float bobbed gently beneath them. Someone yelled from the boat, but it felt a thousand miles away.
Tessa kissed him back like the answer was always yes. Like she’d been waiting her whole life for this exact moment on this exact float with this exact boy.
It was everything she’d ever wanted. Her first kiss. Her first real kiss.
She remembered the way her heart raced, wild and giddy. How her fingers curled in the edge of the float so she wouldn’t float away. How he looked at her afterward—like maybe he’d just figured something out, and she was part of it.
She remembered Meghan’s grin when she finally climbed back onto the boat. The way her mouth opened in silent surprise. The way Tessa smiled so hard her face hurt for hours.
She remembered thinking, Maybe this is finally my summer.
What she didn’t know—what she couldn’t know—was that Jeremiah Fisher was a master of firsts. Not of forevers.
—————————
Jeremiah looked like he was trying not to break. But not for her. For himself. And that said everything. He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping in front of her like it physically hurt to stand still. “I never meant to hurt you.”
Tessa blinked. Slow. Controlled. A practiced burn behind her ribs that didn’t let her cry anymore.
“You keep saying that,” she said flatly, “like it makes any of this better.”
He shifted. “I’m just trying to be honest.”
“No,” she snapped, voice low but deadly. “You’re trying to absolve yourself. There’s a difference.”
His shoulders dropped a fraction. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” she said, stepping toward him now, arms crossed tight over Conrad’s sweatshirt like it was the only thing holding her together. “Because from where I’m standing, this is exactly fair. You want me to say it’s okay. You want me to say I forgive you, that it didn’t ruin me. That I’m fine.”
Her voice cracked—barely. She bit it back before it could bleed.
“You want me to make this easier for you,” she whispered. “So you can keep being the guy everyone loves. So you can sleep at night without thinking about me.”
“Tess—” She stood straighter. Taller.
“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t say my name like you still get to.” He flinched. Actually flinched.
“I didn’t know how to handle it. Us,” he tried again. “It was complicated—”
“There wasn’t an us, Jeremiah,” she cut in. “There was never an ‘us.’ There was me. Loving you. Waiting for you. Letting you kiss me when it was convenient. Letting you call me when you were lonely. Letting you have pieces of me without ever offering anything back.” She paused. Swallowed hard. Met his eyes dead-on.
“There was me, giving you everything I had. And you—” her breath hitched, a dry sob stuck in her chest—“you taking it like it was nothing.” Jeremiah looked stricken.
Like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the words. Like maybe—for the first time—he finally understood. She let the silence stretch. Let it sting.
“You were my first kiss,” she said, softer now. Not gentle—just broken. “My first real heartbreak. My first everything.” Her fingers dug into her sides.
“I let you have that. I wanted you to have that.”
Her eyes burned, voice trembling even as she fought to hold it together.
“And it didn’t matter,” she whispered. “Because I was never anything to you.” He opened his mouth.
She shook her head, stepping back like the space between them was the only thing saving her now. “No,” she breathed. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say you cared.”
—————————
Flashback
She wasn’t even supposed to be at the party. It was late August, the end of everything, and she only came because Meghan begged. Because some part of her—some pathetic, stubborn part—still hoped he’d notice she was there. That maybe he’d smile at her across the room like she was still his favorite secret. And for a little while, it felt like maybe he would.
Until she saw him on the porch. Kissing someone else. It was quick. Sloppy. The kind of kiss that didn’t mean anything—except it meant everything to her. Because she had never gotten that version of him. Never public. Never simple. Never claimed.
And now he was giving it away like it cost nothing. Her chest cracked open. She didn’t wait. She turned and walked out—fast, pushing past people, not stopping when someone called her name.
But this time? This time, he chased her.
“Tessa!” he called, shoving past a group of guys on the steps. “Tess—wait!” She didn’t stop until she hit the curb. “Tessa, please.”
She whipped around, her face burning. “Don’t.” He froze. “Don’t come after me now,” she snapped, voice shaking. “You don’t get to do that. Not after that.”
“It wasn’t—” He broke off, panting. “It didn’t mean anything. I swear.”
“You kissed her,” she said. “Right there. In front of everyone. Like it was nothing.”
“It was nothing.”
“Then what the hell does that make me?”
He looked stricken. Wrecked. Like he hadn’t thought that far. Like it hadn’t occurred to him that she might’ve seen it and still come undone.
“You matter,” he said. “Tessa. You matter.”
Her laugh was wet and sharp. “Then why have you never treated me like I do?”
“I didn’t know how,” he said. “Okay? I didn’t know how to want you the way you deserve. I didn’t know how to be good at this.”
“Then why now?” He stepped closer.
“Because I saw your face when you looked at me,” he said. “And I realized I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t lose you. Not like that. Not because of her.”
She blinked back tears. “You don’t want me,” she whispered. “You just don’t want to feel guilty.”
He shook his head. “I want you. I’m choosing you.”
She wanted to believe him.bGod, she did. And when he kissed her, desperate and apologetic and shaking, she let him. Because for one night, she needed to believe he meant it.
—————————
“You never gave us a chance,” Jeremiah snapped, like it was a defense. Like it was a truth. Tessa stilled. A beat passed. Then another.
And she laughed—sharp and wounded, a sound that splintered in her throat and bled down her face.
“You don’t get to say that,” she whispered, the words barely holding together. “You know that’s not true.”
“Tess—”
“All you had to do,” she said, louder now, breathless, “was stay. That’s it. I didn’t ask you to love me the way I loved you. I didn’t ask you to be someone you weren’t. I didn’t need fireworks or love letters or a label—I just wanted you.” Her chest heaved.
“Why wasn’t that enough?” Her voice broke hard, and she pushed a hand into her sternum like she could physically hold the pieces together. “Why wasn’t I enough?”
Jeremiah took a step forward. “It wasn’t you—” She let out a strangled sob.
“Don’t do that,” she begged. “Don’t lie to me just to feel better about what you did.”
“I’m not lying!”
“Then say it,” she demanded. “Say it out loud. Say why you kept me hanging on. Why you kissed me like I was everything and then left like I was nothing.” He stared at her, mouth opening and closing.
“I gave you everything I had,” she said, voice rising, splintering. “And you took it like it was yours to keep. You let me love you. You knew I loved you—and you let me. Because it was easy. Because I was safe. Because I would never leave you, and you knew that.”
He looked stricken. “Tessa—”
“Just admit it,” she choked out. “You tolerated me. You kept me around because I made you feel better about not having her.”
He didn’t deny it. And that told her everything. “I was in love with Belly,” he finally said. Quiet. But not quiet enough. She flinched. Like it burned.
“I know.” Her voice cracked so hard it barely came out.
“She was with Conrad. And I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was angry and stupid and I thought…” He trailed off.
“No,” she said, backing away. “Finish it.”
“I thought maybe I could make it work with you.”
She laughed again—shaky and broken, her whole body trembling with the force of holding everything in.
“So you used me,” she said. “Got it. We’ve established that. But that can’t be it, Jeremiah. That can’t be the only reason you stayed. That can’t be the only reason you touched me like that.”
He looked down. Couldn’t meet her eyes. “You’re right,” he said, finally. “It wasn’t just that. It was more. You were more. And it scared the hell out of me.”
“Then why didn’t you stay?” she whispered. “Why didn’t you try?”
He looked up at her then. And said the thing that shattered her: “Because I didn’t love you that way.” The air left her lungs. Just gone.
“I know,” she whispered, shaking. “I know you didn’t. But you knew I did.” She pressed her fists to her mouth, but the sob ripped through anyway. “You knew, and you let me believe it could mean something. You let me think you might change your mind. You let me fall in love with you and you knew the whole time you couldn’t give it back.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her voice dropped to a breath. “You used my love like a safety net.”
Jeremiah stepped forward, slow. “Tessa—”
“No,” she said. “Don’t. Don’t come near me. Don’t say my name like it’s yours to say.”
And then—quieter. Hollowed out.
“You don’t get to miss me.”
He didn’t try again. Because he knew. Because finally—finally—he knew what it was like to lose her.
—————————
Flashback
The worst part was how normal the day had started. It was hot—mid-August, cicadas humming in the background like white noise. Tessa was in a tank top and cutoff shorts, holding a half-melted iced coffee and arguing with Conrad about frozen grapes in the snack aisle.
He insisted they weren’t worth the hype. She told him he had a broken palate. It was easy. Comfortable. Almost fun.
They were walking out of the store—arms full of snacks and sunscreen, the smell of plastic pool floaties clinging to her skin—when it happened.
She stepped off the curb. Turned toward the lot. And stopped breathing. Jeremiah was there. So was Belly.
They were tucked behind the vending machines, just barely out of sight, like they hadn’t expected anyone to catch them.
He kissed her. Not drunk. Not joking. Not accidental. It was soft. Familiar. The kind of kiss that didn’t need an explanation. Like it had been building. Like it had already happened before.
Tessa didn’t make a sound. She just stood there. Conrad stepped up beside her, stopped short when he followed her line of sight. His entire expression shifted. Jaw locked. Shoulders tensed.
“Tess—” Conrad started, quiet. But she was already moving. Not fast. Not loud.
Just… gone. She didn’t run. She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream his name or storm over and demand answers. She just walked. Because there was nothing left to say.
She waited, in some small pathetic corner of her chest, for him to come after her. He didn’t. He didn’t even look.
—————————
“I left because I needed space,” Tessa said quietly, arms wrapped around her waist. Her voice was steadier now. Not because she wasn’t hurting, but because she’d already said everything that needed to be said.
Jeremiah looked at her. Really looked at her. Like maybe for the first time, he understood just how much he broke.
“You promised it wouldn’t change us.”
She smiled—tired, soft. A little sad. “You had to know it would.”
He didn’t answer. The silence stretched between them, thick and real and too full of everything they couldn’t take back.
“Are we ever going to be friends again?” he asked. She looked down. Her fingers clenched around the hem of her sleeve.
“I don’t know, Jer,” she said honestly. “Are you going to finally let me be happy?”
That stopped him. He stared at her for a long moment. Like the question reached deeper than anything else had. And maybe it did.
Then he nodded. “Yeah. I will.” He said it like a promise. “I’m happy with Belly,” he added, voice soft. “And you should be happy with Conrad. That’s all I ever wanted for you. To be happy.” Her throat tightened.
She stepped forward, closing the space between them, and wrapped her arms around him.
He hugged her back immediately. Familiar. Gentle. Like muscle memory.
“Jer,” she whispered into his shoulder. “You were my best friend. And I can’t just go back to that like it never happened. Like you never happened.”
He didn’t say anything.
“But I can try,” she said. “Okay? I’ll try.”
His voice was low. Rough. “I’ll take it.”
And for the first time in a long time, they just stood there. Not as what they were, or what they could’ve been—but as something else entirely. Not healed. But healing.
—————————
Jeremiah left with a quiet goodbye and a ghost of a smile. The door clicked shut behind him, and Tessa was alone.
She didn’t move for a long time. Just stood there in the silence, her arms folded tight across her chest like she could keep the rest of herself from spilling out.
The quiet wasn’t peaceful. It was echoey. Every word she’d said, every tear she’d cried—it was still hanging in the air like fog she couldn’t shake. She sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor, chewing at the inside of her cheek until it tasted like blood and regret.
Had she said too much? Had she ruined it? Was Conrad going to look at her differently now? Like she was too complicated. Too messy. Too full of feelings meant for someone else.
The door creaked open. Her head snapped up. Conrad stood in the doorway, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows, a glass of water in his hand like he’d just come from the kitchen.
Her throat tightened. “Please tell me I didn’t fuck it up.”
He blinked. “What?”
She rubbed at her face with both hands. “Us. This. You. I just… I said a lot. I know I come with baggage, and I know I’m kind of a lot sometimes—”
“Tessa,” he said gently. “Of course you didn’t.”
She blinked at him, all shaky breath and damp lashes. “Okay. Good.”
He walked over, setting the glass down on the nightstand before sitting beside her on the bed. Their shoulders brushed. Neither of them moved.
She leaned into him, cheek to his shoulder, one of her hands brushing lightly against his thigh like she needed the contact. Like she needed him to anchor her body back to her bones.
“I’m overstimulated,” she murmured. “And over-emotioned. And my brain’s doing that thing where it makes everything worse.”
Conrad didn’t say anything. He just tilted his head, resting his chin lightly on top of hers. Warm. Steady. Present.
“Let’s get some sleep,” he said after a minute. She nodded against him, but didn’t move.
“Wait…” she said quietly.
He looked down at her. “What?”
She didn’t meet his eyes. Just whispered, “Can you…?”
He didn’t ask what she meant. He already knew. “Yeah,” he said softly.
And then he kissed her. Not rough. Not rushed. Just a slow, careful kiss that said I’m still here. That said I know it’s been a lot—but you’re safe now.
Tessa kissed him back, her hands fisting lightly in the hem of his t-shirt like she needed to hold onto something solid. Something real.
And then he was guiding her down gently, pressing soft kisses to the corner of her mouth, the edge of her jaw, her collarbone. She let him move her back against the pillows, the sheets cool under her thighs as he settled above her, careful and sure.
He was between her legs, not pushing, not asking for more—just there. One elbow braced beside her head, the other hand ghosting over her ribs as if to say, I’ve got you.
She blinked up at him, dazed and quiet. And then she really looked. His hair was messy. His shirt was bunched from where she gripped it. His eyes were full of her.
And his arms—his biceps flexed above her, holding his weight, every line cut and warm and tense. The soft fabric of his sleeve hugged the muscle like it was trying to kill her.
“You’re so pretty,” she whispered before her brain could stop her.
Conrad smiled, slow and crooked. “You’re literally killing me right now.”
She huffed a small laugh, burying her face in his shoulder for a second. “Good.”
He kissed her again, deeper this time. But not faster. Not heavier. Just right.
They found a rhythm together, breathing the same air, letting their hands explore in slow, quiet movements. Her legs stayed around him, not to pull him closer—but to keep him with her. Just like this.
It wasn’t sex. It wasn’t sleep. It was something in between. Something safe. And for the first time in hours, Tessa let herself exhale.
Lilli was always bigger than the girls she hung around with, especially at Cousins Beach. She tried to stay positive about her body- but it could be hard at times, especially in a place where it always seemed everyone was half-clothed.
She never thought that her close friend, Conrad Fisher- of all people- would take an interest in her.
But he did.
Suddenly, Conrad was actively pursuing Lilli, wooing her.
This would be everything she dreamed of- if it wasn’t their friend, Belly’s worst nightmare.
Now, Lilli was torn on which to follow- her heart or her head.
All she knew was that while she was the moon, Conrad was the sun.
