Aub_321
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Summary
He is incapable of pulling away, incapable of not kissing her.
The train is moving. Not just moving, flying, really—Amtrak Northeast Regional this is not—and it is quickly becoming clear that the engineer of this railroad did not design it with romance in mind. Because sometime during minute six or seven or ten of kissing Belly, it begins to feel like an extreme sport. When they round a particularly sharp bend, Conrad has to steady himself on a seat back with one arm so that he can use the other to hold Belly upright and continue to kiss her like the world is ending.
Honestly, he feels like it actually is, in some ways. Or maybe it ended five years ago and this is some post-apocalyptic fantasy. Either way, it all feels so terrifyingly good and new that Conrad is not about to tempt fate by letting her go.
*****
A series of canon-compliant vignettes about a post-E11 Belly and Conrad. While each chapter can be read on its own, there is a cohesive storyline from one to the next. That storyline is mostly that they love each other a lot (and have sex a lot).
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 33,495
- Chapters:
- 5/5
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 219
- Kudos:
- 894
- Bookmarks:
- 216
- Hits:
- 25,967
Bookmarked by Aub_321
18 Jul 2026
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So maybe they are having mega hot sex multiple times a week. Belly is still pretty sure it's casual.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 33,032
- Chapters:
- 10/10
- Comments:
- 425
- Kudos:
- 2,011
- Bookmarks:
- 389
- Hits:
- 55,247
Bookmarked by Aub_321
18 Jul 2026
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Conrad is working on understanding what it feels like to go an entire day and not actively think about Isabel Conklin. He’s pretty conflicted about it, truthfully.
(Conrad doesn't see Belly in the airport, and Belly doesn't say anything to him before she boards her flight. He flies back to California that night assuming the wedding went on without him.)
Bookmarked by Aub_321
18 Jul 2026
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The double doors open with a thwack as she pads into the kitchen, humming a song in French off-key. And there, standing at the kitchen island in seersucker swim trunks and a white tee, is… a man. A stranger. Belly feels sort of like a fucking idiot, because she sees this stranger and it’s like a chorus of angels starts playing in her head. Or, like, at least a Taylor Swift song.
(Newly home from Paris, Belly decides to take a job babysitting a rich family's mansion on Cape Cod for the winter. She expects nine months of studying for the GRE, watering plants, and watching old movies. She does not expect their
very hottwenty-four-year-old son to start showing up.)- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 62,815
- Chapters:
- 6/6
- Comments:
- 613
- Kudos:
- 1,602
- Bookmarks:
- 365
- Hits:
- 48,854
Bookmarked by Aub_321
18 Jul 2026
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Perhaps it is this lack of touchstones, perhaps it is the always-liminal quality of the damp, gray time between golden leaves and snow, perhaps it is the two glasses of red wine on a mostly empty stomach or the way the green glow of the signal light catches in Benito’s dark eyes for a moment as he walks her home from the bar, but when he leans in to kiss her in front of her apartment building after their third proper date, Belly thinks about Conrad.
She has thought about him before, of course, but in the way people say to focus on something else when someone is facing a fear of heights: an unrelenting, all-encompassing devotion to not thinking about it that you cannot falter in for even a moment—or you will look down and be hopelessly lost.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 248,610
- Chapters:
- 39/?
- Comments:
- 552
- Kudos:
- 1,516
- Bookmarks:
- 162
- Hits:
- 64,092
Bookmarked by Aub_321
18 Jul 2026