#jeres chest appreciation

[where-pain-is-so-pretty]

My bestie @snaketattoo69 drew me and Jere (RBFH) for my birthday 😭😭😭😭

I'm so in love with all the details, I have no words 🥺😭🖤

[s-brant]

Make It Better

my masterlist (gif: @conradfiisher)

After getting into an argument with his brother, Conrad seeks out the comfort of a close friend.

8k (18+)

Warnings: smut, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, strong language, and slight angst.

-

For every girl in Cousins, there was something about Conrad Fisher that made them go a little crazy. And for Y/N, a girl who grew up with the Fishers and Conklins next door every summer, it was the fact that he decided to choose her of all people to be with. Even if Belly had him first, it was all worth it to her.

With Conrad, it's all soft-spoken praises, feather light brushes off his fingertips against forbidden places, and sensual kisses. It's all she can see when she closes her eyes to sleep at night or merely blinks during the day. It's hard to keep it a secret when her mind refuses to stop recalling the memories at a constant rate. Still, she has to be on her best behavior seeing that it is the last night they have together before the house is officially sold by Aunt Julia. And to honor their summer house, they collectively decided to throw a goodbye party.

The vibration of the bass thumping within the walls of the house is strong enough to rattle her eardrums as she takes a shot with her arm interlinked with Cam Cameron's. He, of course, is drinking a can of soda, but she was quick to assuage his insecurity when he mentioned it. It was the thought that counted.

She and Cam have been friends since they were in middle school, so, when he joined their circle of friends through Belly last year, it made her happy to have him around in the way Jere, Steven, Conrad, and Belly always were. When he and Belly ended their fling, she was there for both of them. She hugged Cam for a minute straight before letting go and offering to cheer him up with ice cream. For Belly, she told her she did the right thing by not leading him on and told her to follow her heart, wherever it may lead her, as they swam in the pool.

How was Y/N supposed to know it would lead her straight into the arms of the boy she's always loved?

"Okay," Cam rips her from her thoughts as he speaks, shoving his hydroflask filled with ice water into her hands, "You are officially cut off for the night until I see you drink some of this. I think your blood may be fifty percent tequila at this point."

She frowns at him.

"You're no fun, but I appreciate you looking out," she says.

She stays with him to swallow a few generous mouthfuls of water before handing the bottle back to him with a quiet, "Thank you. M'gonna go find Connie and Steven."

The last she checked, the two of them were taking pictures with the Polaroid camera they bought at the store earlier. They called her and Belly over to take turns taking pictures together. One of them all together, one of Y/N and Steven, then Belly and Conrad, and, finally Y/N and Conrad.

It was hard to watch Belly pose with him considering their extensive history together, but he knew that, and when it was her turn to pose with him, he wrapped his hand around her waist and entwined his fingers in hers to give it a reassuring squeeze. This made it extremely difficult for her not to smile too hard as she looked at the camera lens.

After the flash went off, Steven, the only person to know the details of their recent, days-old affair, says, "Wait, one more! One more! You'll thank me later, I swear."

With Belly having skated off, Taylor doing God knows what, and Jere lingering not far from wherever Belly went, they didn't feel too worried when they were directed to hug for the camera. Her cheek squished against his, their chests rising and falling to meet one another like matching puzzle pieces, and the scent of his body wash—the proximity to him was intoxicating.

"Okay, smileee—"

The flash off went off, and they stayed together for a few seconds longer than necessary before reluctantly pulling apart.

Steven handed each of them one of the pictures with a wink before saying, "Alright, Taylor wants me to do shots with her. I'll probably be back soon."

Conrad got the first one and she got the second. They couldn't help how they smiled as they stood side by side to admire them. His was carefully placed in the back pocket of his pants, which then made her realize that she did not have any pockets herself.

"Can you keep it safe for me?" she asked with a bright, moony-eyed expression. Her hands then slid down the front of her dress to feel for any place to store the photograph only to come up empty. "It's my own fault. Shouldn't have worn a dress."

His eyes softened as they looked up and down the length of her body, then settled back on her eyes.

"No," he said before he could stop himself, "it's perfect."

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she was about to open her mouth to speak when Cam and Skye called her name from across the room.

After a second, he spoke again, "I'll catch up with you later, Padme."

When he turned to walk away, he heard her giggle from behind his back at the inside joke shared between the two of them.

As she searches through the house for him now, she smiles to herself at the thought of it. It originated when they were mere children. After finishing a marathon of the Star Wars franchise in release order—the only correct way to watch it according to Susannah and Laurel—one summer, they all became obsessed with playing pretend with sticks as lightsabers. A week later, once it became apparent that it wasn't a fleeting phase, Susannah surprised them with toy lightsabers.

Somehow, they decided amongst themselves who was who, and it just so happened that Y/N was Padme and Conrad was Anakin. Jere and Steven made a deal to take turns playing Obi-Wan Kenobi since they originally both wanted to be him, and Belly, the youngest of the bunch, was so happy to be included that she would play whatever character they wanted her to for the day. The only roles that never changed were Anakin and Padme. Even when they got to the main trilogy in their game of pretend, Conrad played Darth Vader, and Y/N let Belly be Princess Leia while she played as Darth Sidious. One way or another, they were always paired in some way. Fated.

They much preferred playing as the star-crossed lovers as opposed to the pair of evil Sith Lords. It pleased her more than she ever let on that she and Conrad were together, even if it was just pretend. They've always teasingly called each other by those names ever since.

She peeks into every entryway when she walks by in hopes that she'll spot Conrad or Steven, but neither of them appears. It isn't until she steps out onto the front porch after searching the whole lower level of the house that she finds one of them. Well, actually, she hears one of them. Conrad.

"Jere, you know for a fact that I came home every second I could—"

"But it wasn't every day!"

Jeremiah, she notes as she stands with her back against the front door. Neither of them sees her.

"Okay, okay," Conrad retorts. "What do you want? A medal?"

What Jere says next makes her have to look away in the direction of the neighbor's yard, not wanting to see the heartbreak written across his brother's face as he calls him a coward. Her jaw tightens with every vitriolic word spewed at him. It isn't her place to interrupt, but it kills her to stand by and listen.

"You're not someone to look up to. You're not even someone I wanna know."

The universe must have a cruel sense of humor, because the second these words are said, someone trying to swing the door open against her back sends her stumbling forward into their line of vision. The sound of her falling to her hands and knees brings their attention away from one another instantly.

Her eyes meet Jeremiah's first, then they immediately switch to lock eyes with Conrad, and the first thing out of her mouth is, "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop or anything. I just came out here cause I couldn't find you guys. I'll go back inside." Despite her anger at what she overheard, she makes sure to look at both of them when she says, "I'm sorry."

She's already on her feet and facing the front door, abandoned by the guy who tried to walk out only to be greeted with this shit-show, when Jeremiah says, his tone harsh, "Don't. I was already leaving."

This makes her stop in her tracks, her hand frozen in place where it grabs the door handle, and, after she listens to Jere's footsteps gradually disappear, she turns back around.

Conrad is closer now than he was a second ago. Rather than remain in the driveway where he and his brother argued, he stands on the porch with his hands in his pockets. The look on his face...it's heartbreaking. His eyes are glassy, his lips downturned into a slight frown he tries to keep at bay, and knows based on the look he gives her alone that he will never forget what Jere said to him tonight.

She says softly, "Connie," unsure of what else to say to him, but that's all it takes to open the floodgates.

Silent tears start to fall down his cheeks as she closes the distance between them to take him into her arms in a comforting embrace. He bends down a little to allow his head to rest on her shoulder. Her hand cups the back of it to cradle his face into the soft crook of her neck, giving him the shelter he needs from the rest of the party to cry it out. The arms wrapped around her waist squeeze tightly enough to push the air from her lungs, but she never complains. To be in his arms is a blessing regardless of the reason and circumstances behind it.

They remain this way for the better half of a minute before he has the courage to break the silence. The hand on the back of his head brushes through his hair in a repetitive motion in hopes that it will soothe him.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" he asks. "I just"—he shakes his head—"I can't think straight right now..."

She nods.

"We can go to my house."

The Fishers and Conklins aren't nearly as familiar with her family's summer house as she is with theirs, but they have been inside a few times. On days when he didn't feel like being around everyone last summer, Conrad would come over and sit in the chair in the corner of her room, blowing the smoke from his joint out of the window while she cleaned, folded laundry, or read whatever book Laurel had recommended to her at the time. It was domestic in a way that made her heart skip a beat. It made her imagine how it would be in the future if they were together. If they truly ended up getting married as they pretended to when they were children while playing as Anakin and Padme.

She reaches down and entwines their fingers in order to lead him away in the direction of the house next door. It's a short walk over the fence gate that connects their yards. That was Susannah's doing. Five years into her friendship with the kids in her house, she and Y/N's parents agreed to install a new fence with a gate between their two properties to allow their children to play without having to leave the yard.

With everyone busy partying, no one should come back to sleep until way later. It wasn't until after they arrived back from their night at the country club that she remembered where her mom kept the spare key, so the others may forget their plans to sleep there. If they do, she'll shoot them a text in the group chat to remind them rather than allow them to sleep on the floor.

The door is already unlocked from when she went inside to shower and get ready with Taylor and Belly before the party, so all it takes is her turning the handle to allow them access.

She drops his hand once the door is kicked shut behind them and looks over her shoulder to say, "I think there's frozen food in the garage freezer if you're hungry," as she walks toward the kitchen. "And there's still my mom's Diet Coke in the fridge. We could always mix it with my dad's whiskey if you wanna keep drinking."

From behind, she can hear his footsteps on the freaking hardwood floor, getting closer and closer until his hand wraps around her arm to spin her around to face him.

"What—"

The question is cut short by his lips crashing against hers.

Kissing Conrad is something she doesn't think she will ever get used to or grow tired of. No matter how many times it happens, which, so far, has been at least three times since the night they spent at the country club, it takes her breath away the same as it had the first time when they were just children playing pretend.

Her arms are thrown around his neck in less than a second to pull him closer, and she doesn't hesitate to kiss him back. Not even for a second. At first, she is too intoxicated with the thrill of having him touching her to remember why they came here in the first place. Every thought revolves around him—the taste of the alcohol on his tongue, the feeling of his chest pressing against hers, and how confidently his hands find their place on her waist.

A second later, the memory of the fight he and Jere had comes back to her, and she forces herself to push him away.

"Wait," she says with her hands flattened against his chest to create some distance between them. "Wait, Connie."

When he opens his eyes, they're overflowing with concern for her. She already knows that he is assuming he made a mistake or that she doesn't truly want to do this with him, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. In fact, she is the one who is concerned for him.

"Are you okay? You and Jere just..." Her expression softens a little. "I don't wanna do this unless I know you're sure you're alright."

The confusion evident on his face disappears by the time she's finished speaking. In his mind, he anticipated something much worse than her wanting to check in on him to make sure he was okay. As the seconds passed between her telling him to wait and him looking at her, he feared she'd take back everything they shared in the past few days. All the secret kisses, gentle touches, and giggles. He wasn't sure he could take losing another one of the girls he grew up with in that way.

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and stares at her without saying a word. If it were anyone else, it would be uncomfortable, but it never is with them. That's part of what keeps bringing him back to her. Of course, it can't end well seeing that he dated Belly, she's friends with her, and they had such a messy break-up, but what is he supposed to do? Ignore his feelings? Pretend not to want her when he clearly does? He can't do it. He won't. Now that he's already had a taste of her, he can't resist any it longer.

His chest rises with a deep inhale, then—

"I fucked everything up, and I knew Jere must have resented me for it, but I didn't think it was that bad," Conrad says. "I'm sad and angry, of course, but that doesn't mean you'd be taking advantage." He lets the tip of his nose brush hers with how close he comes. His voice is hardly a push of air when he speaks again. "You make everything feel better. You always have."

She doesn't allow him to kiss her again. Instead, she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck and keeps her eyes on his, not giving in even when their noses bump together and the heat of his exhales cloud on her skin. The kitchen table he has her pressed up against digs into her back, keeping her pinned in place exactly where he needs her.

"So, that's what you want?" she asks in a hushed tone even though they have the house to themselves. Every breath they take is pulled from the little pocket of air between their faces, and they can both smell the liquor on each other's breath every time they exhale. The hands on her waist slowly descend until they settle on her hips. "You want me to make it better?"

The moment she says the words, Conrad seems to melt into her touch. That is all it takes to turn him to putty in her hands, and he nods in response with his face pressed against hers.

"Is that okay?"

In other words, is that what you want? Have you been dying to get your hands on me the way I have been dying to get mine on you? It feels like a lifetime since they first hooked up in a secluded room at the country club, but it hasn't been more than a day.

In lieu of a verbal answer, she closes the inch of distance between them and connects their lips in a tender kiss.

He reciprocates with a passion that ramps up the intensity in a matter of seconds, quickly turning it from its initially timid and gentle nature into something more desperate and needy.  Those hands on her hips squeeze hard to keep control and steady her body as he presses her further into the table, making her back arch a little. Her hands wander to explore every part of him now that she knows he wants this again, and she slips them up underneath his shirt to feel his bare skin beneath her palms. But when her hands make contact with his nipples, he shivers.

Their lips disconnect, shining from the saliva they share, for him to murmur, "Cold hands," as explanation before reaching down for the hem of her dress. She helps him shimmy the tight material up from where it gets stuck around her breasts until it is pulled free and tossed somewhere on the kitchen floor behind her, leaving her in only her undergarments. And he is quick to dispose of those too. Nimble fingers fumble with the clasp of her bra for a few seconds, then it finally comes loose around her back.

But, that's the last thing she lets him take off of her before she puts a hand on his chest to stop him.

Without saying a word, she grasps the bottom of his shirt and starts lifting it up to reveal his bare chest to her. He takes the hint without a second of confusion, pulling it the rest of the way off. It drops from his grasp the second it's off his head and abandoned in favor of aiding her in her attempt to undo his pants with those soft, trembling hands.

In a way, it feels similar to their first time. It was against a wall at the country club the other night after they became bored looking for a place to sleep. All they knew was that they needed to make it quick, so they did. His hand disappeared down the front of her panties to help her along, the pressure of his fingertips rubbing her clit bringing a wetness that soaked the cotton fabric concealing her from view, and that was all the preparation they took before it happened. He asked, voice quiet and low, if she'd done it before when she began tugging on his shirt as they made out, so once she said she had, all bets were off.

The thought of it slows him down for a second.

That time, they had to get it over with quickly. If they hadn't, the others likely would have gone looking for them and found out what was going on in the office room they snuck into. It was rough and quick and passionate, and he liked that, he truly did, but recalling that now makes him want to do it differently this time. Especially considering what happened before they came into this house.

"Slower, slower," he murmurs into her mouth.

The adjustment is made instantly, and she allows him to take back full control of the kiss. With his hands pulling her hips flush against his, he surrenders to the urge to rut against her to relieve the aching of his hard cock through the material of his boxer briefs and unzipped pants. He invades her open mouth with his tongue and kisses her slower, deeper than he had the last time. His teeth nip playfully at her lower lip in the second he takes to pull back for air.

His hands cup her face on either side to keep her in place as he dips down to kiss the underside of her jaw. He doesn't dare to leave any marks behind where anyone could see them, but he does take his time and suck gently on the sweet spot on the gentle slope where her shoulder and neck bridge together. Faintly, they can both hear the music from his house next door over the wet sound of his lips on her neck.

The other day, they didn't have the time to do everything he wanted to with her, but tonight they do. Tonight, he has her to himself for the first time in months, and he isn't going to take that opportunity for granted. Everything with her happened too fast for him to process. Last week, he'd been caught up on Belly, and part of him still is, but, then, Y/N came into the picture in a way he never expected. Despite the fear of ruining their lifelong friendship, to be with her felt as natural a process as breathing.

The hands on her face slip down the sides of her neck and down the front of her body until they find the band of the thin little thong she chose tonight for the sake of not having panty lines through her dress. Part of it also had to do with the possibility of this happening again, but she'd never give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

It appears, however, that he already knows when she finds the end of his mouth tipping upwards in a slight smirk as his fingers hook around the fabric. Seeing that they just hooked up yesterday and that these are a decent step up from the boy-short panties patterned with flowers he saw her in before, it isn't too difficult to put together.

Conrad sinks down onto his knees to tug it down her legs, and before her cheeks can begin to burn with embarrassment, she warns him, "Don't even."

This draws a giggle from him, his head tilting back to let him look up at her. Even in the midst of their playfulness and laughter, the sight of him kneeling before her makes her go weak in the knees. The strands of hair hanging in his eyes frame his face with an effortlessness she has envied him for her whole life. His beauty is classic, statuesque, even. He is the specific type of attractive that never falls out of trend or becomes less shocking over time. At least, not for her.

"I didn't say anything."

She counters, still laughing, "You didn't have to!"

At this point, she is grinning from ear to ear, and it's difficult to be self-conscious about being laid bare in his presence when he's looking at her like that. Her left leg is lifted off of the ground for her underwear to slide off of her ankle, but he doesn't put it back down. Instead, he turns his head to kiss her sensitive inner thigh, leaving her with nothing to do except watch while the anticipation of what he plans on doing eats her alive.

Unlike her neck, he has no qualms about marking up her thighs. It may be mildly uncomfortable to forgo wearing shorts in the summer heat, but it's doable. She can wear some of the bottoms she has stored in the dresser upstairs to keep the others from seeing if need be. His other hand grips her right hip to keep her steady while his other has her bent leg propped over his shoulder. Soon, his kisses have made a path up the length of her thigh, and she can't help but breathe heavier when she feels the heat of his exhales at the apex of her thighs.

"Connie..." she breathes out.

This brings his attention up, eyes fluttering open from where they'd been closed as he inched closer and closer to where she wants him most. And when she finds him looking up at her, pupils dilated and lips swollen from kissing, she can hardly breathe.

He asks, "You nervous?"

Words fail her. All she can do is nod.

"Don't be," Conrad whispers, the hand on her hip reaching to take hers in it for the sake of comforting her. "It's just me."

To this, she chuckles a little and tries not to shift in place with the sheer discomfort of the need she feels for him in this moment. No one has ever done this specific sexual act with her before, so the nerves are strong, but not quite as strong as her curiosity or desire.

"That's exactly why I'm nervous."

Her free hand comes down to brush the hair out of his face, and he leans into the touch like a cat brushing up between your legs. His eyes shut again for a second to appreciate the sweet gesture before looking up at her again, a slight grin begging to come to fruition on his face.

"Let me make it better, then," he says softly, in that charming, distinctly Conrad way that could take any girl's breath away with ease.

The first flick of his tongue against her is gentle, a mere glimpse of what's to come, but it stuns her all the same. Never having experienced this before, she is extremely sensitive to anything he does to her, and she finds that she's far more sensitive when it's his mouth pleasuring her as opposed to his fingers. Every soft brush of his lips against her in teasing kisses makes her hips press forward into his face in a silent command to continue without her noticing that she's doing it. He is quick to notice it, though, and he doesn't continue to tease her any longer.

This time, when he spread her open on his tongue, he gives her what she wants.

Sparks of pleasure shoot through her the second she feels him lapping at her aching clit, soft and gentle at first until he feels her grinding herself forward against his face for more. With her soft sighs and stifled moans as encouragement, he dips his head between her legs and eats her like a man starved. The remaining leg she stands on is quickly guided over his other shoulder, and his hand slips out of hers in favor of taking hold of her hips. The supple flesh of her ass is soft where it is squeezed beneath his fingertips and used as leverage to bring her as close as possible.

"Mm," she whines, "Fuck..."

The ability to speak evades her in the heat of the moment, but they both know how much she's enjoying this without her having to come out and say it. If the sounds she's making weren't enough, the hand she has gripping the back of his head to keep his mouth on her would prove it.

She knew from conversations overheard between the boys that Conrad was no stranger to this kind of thing. It may have made her heart sink into the pit of her stomach to hear it back then, but, right now, she's thankful for his experience. Every lick, kiss, and caress is placed exactly where she needs it as though he's able to read her body without having to open his eyes. The pleasure he's giving her far outweighs the jealousy she feels when she remembers that he's done this with other girls, one of them possibly being Belly.

The taste of her arousal, slick on his lips and tongue, has him humming in contentment into her as though he is the one being pleasured by this. In a way, he is. There's something intoxicating about being surrounded by her in every sense like this—her weight on his shoulders, her hands in his hair, and her thighs clamped shut on either side of his face. His dick strains against the fabric of his underwear as well as his unzipped pants, pulsing with the desire to sink into her and find his release.

She cants her hips to grind down on his face in pursuit of something closer, something deeper that they can't manage like this. And it isn't long before she starts to pull gently at his hair, reaching down and trying to pull on his arm to get the message across.

Conrad's lips part from her soaked pussy with a wet sound. When he looks up at her from between her thighs, she can see how his lips and chin are smeared with her arousal. It glistens under the moonlight coming in through the kitchen window. In seconds, the moment is already gone. The hands gripping her hips slide down to take hold of her thighs in order to guide them off of his shoulders, and when he sets her back down onto the ground, her muscles are trembling.

He's standing back up at his full height with his body slotted perfectly between her legs in the time it takes her to blink. Their next kiss is hungrier, much more aggressive in nature, than the last they shared, and she can taste herself on his lips.

In the gaps between their fervent kisses, she says, breathless, "I know you wanted to go slower this time, but I can't." His tongue invades her mouth again, pushing past her soft lips to allow the taste of her lip balm to blend with the semi-sweet taste of her pussy. It's only when his tongue retreats to give him the chance to bite down on her bottom lip that she can speak again. "Please," she whines and juts her hips out until she feels him hard against her. "We can go again after, I just want you now."

This sends him into a bit of a frenzy.

He has had his fair share of hook-ups���not nearly as many as Jere but plenty—yet there's something about her that thrills him in a way few others ever could. No girl has ever said anything like that to him. With Belly, it was her first time, so everything was tender and experimental due to the nature of the situation. With Y/N, it's different in the sense that they cannot be fairly compared. How could anyone compare a gentle, sweet first time with what may end up being the best fuck of his life, surpassing the quickie at the country club that left them both breathless and weary.

Conrad is panting for air when their lips part, their mouths hanging open and brushing as he hefts her up onto the table with little effort. Beneath her hands, she can feel his biceps flex with the quick lift. Taut muscle contracts and pushes back against her fingers before relaxing again once her ass is planted on the tabletop, but if it weren't for her hands gripping his arms for support, she wouldn't have noticed it had any effect on him. It's strangely arousing. She never gave his casual strength much thought until he utilized it in this context for the first time. A thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead when he had to keep her lifted against the wall at the country club as he thrust into her, but he didn't struggle.

Please. He hears her whining the word on a loop in his mind as he aids her in shoving his pants and underwear down his lean thighs. We can go again after. She wraps her hand around his length and pumps a few times despite the fact that he's already hard enough for it to ache. All the while, he's still stuck on the things she said. We can go again after. Not only does she want him now, she already knows she'll want him again. I just want you now. That crucial part gave him the answers he'd been seeking for the past twenty-four hours since he pinned her to the wall at the country club and fucked her hard enough to make the framed paintings shake on their hooks. I just want you now. It was life-altering for her too.

As he angles his hips just right to guide the broad tip of his cock into her, his fingers dig into her hips so hard, she'll be shocked if it doesn't bruise by tomorrow.

She uses the legs wrapped around his hips to push him further into her, and they both gasp at the sensation it brings them. Her heels press into the backs of his thighs, urging him to take whatever he wants from her whenever he wants it. It doesn't matter that the stretch she feels the further she urges him inside of her almost makes her have to bite down on her lip to contain a wince. Nothing matters to her except for getting as close to him as physically possible.

He lets out a low, drawn-out, "Oh fuckkk," under his breath as he sinks the rest of the way into her.

Their noses bump with every slight movement made or breath taken in, and she refuses to look away from his eyes. There's something inherently vulnerable about holding unwavering eye contact with him while he is buried in her to the hilt. The hands on his biceps slide up slowly until both of her arms are wrapped behind his neck to keep him from shying away from her at any point. This is the closeness she craved more than anything. Nothing else would do, not even having him on his knees for her.

It's a wonder that he doesn't come right away with how tightly the soft, warm walls of her pussy are squeezing around him. And when she bucks her hips up in a wordless request for him to move, he shakes his head.

Eyes clenched shut, Conrad murmurs, "I just need a second."

He feels her nod against his face, her nose nudging his cheek. For the next thirty or so seconds, he remains as still as possible. It's torture for him to stay this way and resist doing what comes naturally. Although it's for his sake, not hers, he struggles to keep a firm enough hold on his self-control. He keeps his eyes shut because he knows that if he looks at her, he won't stand a chance.

It isn't until the fire that blazed in the pit of his abdomen has calmed that he allows himself to look at her again. When he opens his eyes, she's already watching him. Her fingers twirl strands of his hair absentmindedly, and when she sees him open his eyes again, she closes the gap between their lips again.

This time, as his lips slot against hers, he draws away from her, pulling out until it's only his tip inside of her.

"You don't have to be gentle," she murmurs. "I can take it. I won't break."

His response comes in the form of him snapping his hips into her until he's gone as deep as she can take him. Despite her urging him to get rougher with her, she still gasps at the sudden intrusion and looks up at him with a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. Her past hook-ups were meaningless and unfulfilling. It happened during her freshman year at Trinity College while Conrad and Belly were dating. Considering what was going on at the time, she didn't plan to talk to either of them about it afterward, and, once it was as over, she didn't want to.

It was horrible.

It was the polar opposite of her first time with Conrad. Not only was it with an uncaring frat boy she met at a party her roommate dragged her to, it was uncomfortable. He didn't do anything other than get himself hard and stick it in, and with her nerves being so bad, it was already hard for her to get aroused. But it couldn't be any more different now. It couldn't be any more different with him.

It's rougher than it was initially, yet still slow and sensual. The hands on her hips guide her into a cadence to match his movements each time he thrusts into her, stifling the sound of his own low moans by smearing his mouth against hers. It's a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues brush, saliva coating their lips, and he makes sure there isn't a single part of her left un-worshiped tonight. Whether it be her neck, her collarbone, or her jaw, he pays every part of her the attention it deserves, partly for her sake and partly because he cannot help himself.

Their lips pull apart with a loud smacking sound, and he keeps his forehead pressed to hers as he looks into her eyes, head tilting just slightly to the side. One of his hands abandons its place at her hip to slide up the length of her torso. Her stomach flinches inward at the contact of his knuckles brushing her skin on the way past, but it's when he lets his hand flatten over her breast that she lets out a shaky exhale, He doesn't spend too much time there, though. After teasing her with a gentle squeeze, his hand wraps around the back of her neck for the sake of having control of where she looks, and, right now, he wants her to look at him as he admits something to her.

"I've dreamt about this," Conrad whispers.

He delights in her slack-mouthed expression when he ruts into her a touch faster and harder for the sake of seeing the expression on her face shift.

Somehow, she finds her voice and manages to stammer out, "I"—she is interrupted by the need to take in a sharp breath of air—"I thought..."

The hand on the back of her neck squeezes harder at the implication of her unfinished statement. It isn't necessary for her to continue the thought, he already knows what it means. I thought you dreamt about Belly. He did. He dreamt of Belly every night last summer, but it was Y/N who he dreamt of first.

She was the one who awakened these feelings within him for the first time. Being the oldest alongside him, she was the first to develop, and he didn't know what to do with the feelings that surfaced the summer she came back looking less like a girl and more like a woman. She was the first person he kissed, albeit for a game they played together, not Belly. Surely, he thought she had to know that it meant something to him too, but when he looks at her now, it's clear that he thought wrong.

His brows pinch together at the sensation of her tightening up around him, but his eyes are soft. Tender. Honest. He shakes his head. Just once.

"You were first," he says it so quickly, she almost misses it. "It was you."

That doesn't mean what he had with Belly meant nothing. In fact, it means the opposite. What he had with Belly was unlike anything he experienced before, but so is this. There is no way for Conrad to compare the two because what he feels for them is so solid yet different.

With Belly, he knew what he meant to her. He knew she put him on a pedestal her whole life and believed every word he said, so it was difficult not to feel an added pressure to live up to that standard. His heart broke when he ruined prom for her, but he did it because he thought he didn't deserve her.

With Y/N, they've always mirrored one another. Both the eldest in their respective families, gifted children, and sensitive in a way that troubled them more than most of their siblings and friends. Where everyone else misunderstood Conrad, she understood him. And it was never something that had to be acknowledged out loud or spoken of. It was a law of existence.

The summer before last, when Conrad got into reading as a result of Laurel gifting him a few of her favorite classics, he ended up insisting that Y/N read Wuthering Heights shortly after he finished it. Never having read for pleasure before, she thought she'd find it difficult to devote herself to it, but she should have known. She should have known that if he wanted her to read it, there were good reasons for it. Belly and the boys were having dinner with their moms when she finally got to his favorite line.

It was underlined in red ink, she noted, not pencil. Never to be erased or undone in any way. When she read it, she knew immediately that he'd done it for her. On the page, it read, "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same," and that was the moment she knew she loved him.

Right now, as he kisses her and reaches down with the same hand that held her neck to rub her clit, it's all she can think of. So, she says it. She takes the vulnerable confession and offers one of her own in return.

"You were first for me too," she says breathlessly.

The contact of his fingertips brushing her most sensitive spot has her jolting against him in equal parts shock and pleasure. It instantly makes the feeling of him rocking into her at a steady pace all the more gratifying. What she said is fuel to the fire for him. It urges him on, chasing the weightless, stirring feeling inside of him with reckless abandon. He decides to trust what she said about being able to handle him not being gentle, because, truth be told, he can't control himself.

Conrad, lost in the haze, starts sucking at her neck after he leans down to kiss it. Everything outside of this house no longer exists to either of them, so it doesn't occur to them that they'll have to answer for the marks left behind on her come morning. No, all he can think of is what he feels for her and how he can possibly show her the full extent of it without telling her. This is the only way, he thinks. When he talks, he fucks everything up, but she has to know how he feels through this. After all, she's always had a sixth sense when it comes to him. Why should it be any different now?

Her fingers card through his hair and tug gently on the soft strands as she tips back her head and arches her body into him, gasping into the dark, empty kitchen. Even when he kisses his way back up to her lips, he remains trapped in the trance she put him under, taking every part of her for himself. It takes her crying out in bliss at the combined sensations of his fingers on her clit and the smooth, wet drag of his cock inside of her for him to meet her gaze again. This time, he doesn't dare look away. Neither does she.

Their eye contact never wavers as she murmurs, face twisted in pleasure, "Fuck, I think—"

Her sentence can't even be finished before she's coming undone from the next caress of his fingers against her.

The arms wrapped around the back of his neck pull him in as her body tenses up with the onset of her climax. Not only does he watch and listen as the euphoria washes over her, he feels it. He can feel her spasming around him, clenching and unclenching, through every powerful wave.

Her jaw has fallen open in a gape that allows every beautiful moan, gasp, and whine to escape into the space between their lips. And it's the sensation of her coming around him that threatens to send him over the edge, but he holds out for as long as he can. Both for the sake of helping her ride it out and prolonging his own orgasm.

He pulls out quickly out of fear of finishing inside and withdraws the fingers that were rubbing her clit to wrap them around his cock, stroking himself once, twice, three times until he comes with a breathy moan. Watching it drip down her trembling stomach heightens the swift pulses of pleasure, and when his body jerks involuntarily from how good it feels, the next rope of cum lands across the hickeys on her inner thighs. It's downright filthy, but he'll be damned if it isn't the most erotic thing he's ever seen in real life.

For a second, time is suspended to allow them both the chance to catch their breath and enjoy the comfort of each other's embrace. Her arms are still linked around him, trapping him in, and he lets his face fall forward onto her shoulder with a tired sigh. It's impossible for either of them to find words in the midst of their post-orgasmic bliss, so they don't bother trying. Much like how it has been for their lives preceding this moment, the silence is comfortable. There is no misunderstanding, awkwardness, or trying to fill the space with meaningless small talk.

Once the rapid rise and fall of their chests have evened out, Conrad pulls away from his cherished spot in the crook of her neck and kisses her one last time before coming back down to earth.

He's already pulling his pants back up before moving to get a few paper towels from the kitchen counter, telling her, "Stay there, I got it."

The sound of the tap turning on reaches her ears, then vanishes as quickly as it appeared, and it isn't long before Conrad is back in front of her. Every swipe of the damp wad of paper towel is gentle on his skin, carefully minding where she's particularly sensitive in the aftermath of what they did. As he wipes his release up from her stomach and thighs, he folds the towel in half to clean her again, then, once he's finished, he leans down with one hand cupped underneath her thigh and presses a kiss to one of the marks he left behind.

Her face burns hot at this, but she tries not to let it rattle her brave face.

"You're lucky I like you so much," she says, tilting her head to show him her neck, "cause this is gonna be impossible to hide."

He can't even stop the smirk from crossing his face at the sight of her freshly bruised skin. Yet, he doesn't answer right away. He simply continues to smile to himself and walks around the island she's perched on, digging in the freezer for something for the next moment or so. When he returns, he's holding up a bag of frozen peas as though it is a coveted trophy.

"This will help," he says and gently presses the cold bag over the spot on her neck. "Thank you, by the way."

She blinks at him.

"For what?"

His shoulders pull up in a shrug as he tries to find the right way to word it without it sounding like he's only talking about the sex.

"For everything." He says softly, rubbing the edge of her jaw with his thumb. "Sometimes, I feel like you don't know what you mean to me."

The room has been plunged into silence since they stopped moaning, panting, and joining their bodies together. All that can be heard over their voices is the music next door, as well as loud voices speaking in the back and front yard. In here, though, it's just them, and he can hear how her breath hitches in her throat at what he said.

"It was confusing last summer, but ever since you underlined that part in the book you gave me, I've known. At least to some extent," she admits. "I knew you did that for me."

He nods.

"I did."

There's a long pause, then—

She breaks her gaze with him and looks down at the floor, smiling like an idiot at the thought of what has transpired in the last forty-eight hours. Seeing her clothes in a pile on the floor prompts her to take the frozen peas from him and jump down from her seat on the counter.

As explanation, she says, holding the bag to her neck, "We should probably get back to the party before anyone notices we're gone."

He casts a quick glance to the counter where they fucked for a second before looking at her again.

"And probably clean that."

A giggle escapes her when he says this.

"Yeah, we definitely should."

-

Hello! Finally wrote a Conrad fic! If you enjoyed it, I'd love to hear your thoughts. If you want to be added to a tag list for future Conrad fics, let me know as well. Thank you.

[mint-ty]

rewatching all the Nordic Tour craziness and remembering how Bojan completely lets it go when in Finland (aka when with Jere), makes me think how Jere must feel the same <3

I might be projecting, but Jere strikes me as a person who loves doing things for others. He is very much a giver in whatever form it can be. And generally sometimes it can get overwhelming for the receiving person because even good things can be too much. So it's important to tone it down and keep it to appropriate level so that the other person doesn't have to feel guilty like he has to match the giving and to match the excitement.

But I imagine that with Bojan Jere feels completely safe to go all out without a risk of being misunderstood. He can book the best food for a middle of a road delivery, arrange best parties, talk Bojan's ears off with all the possible topics that could come into his busy mind and just generally try to climb into Bojan's skin 😂 Jere is like a velcro cat that glues to your chest the second you sit down, and Bojan very much loves and accepts and appreciates that <3

[cutebodyhorror]

Trick or treat? <3

Joost pauses and leans back, taking a moment to appreciate his work. Jere opens his eyes with a shuddering sigh and looks in the mirror they’re standing in front of. He looks like a wreck: there’s not a single inch of skin left on his neck that’s not painted over with smudged lipstick. Black lipstick kisses are scattered across his chest and stomach, marking every spot where Joost’s lips have pressed possessively against his skin.

“Done already?” Jere asks, and there’s a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Joost laughs and grabs his lipstick from the counter to reapply. He locks eyes with Jere, his painted lips curved up in a mischievous smirk, and he sinks to his knees. “Not even close.”

[hotcat37]

deaf! Jere x Tommy concept drabble i wrote for @gigshoe <3 (for details, they're in their early 20s here and the setting is in Finland)

Tommy was admittedly already in a pretty cranky mood when he woke up that morning. He's got another day of long unpaid hours for his internship waiting for him. He knows it's a great opportunity and it's the experience that counts but still. Knowing that he's got another two months of hard unpaid work ahead of him isn't exactly motivating.

So when the Estonian feels a gentle tug at his sleeve while waiting for his train, his first instinct is to feel annoyed. He'd been minding his own business staring off into space and hoping no one would bother him. No such luck it seems.

Tommy turns his head towards whoever has disturbed him, not attempting to hide the scowl he knows he has on his face, ready to hit the unsuspecting person with a "I don't speak Finnish." But his eyes meet big blue ones and the brunette momentarily forgets all about his plan. He stares into the winter pale face of a man whose jet black eyebrows furrow together in concern at whatever look is on Tommy's face.

Oh crap. The stranger looks a bit intimidated, fiddling with the yellow phone in his hands, clearly too nervous to say anything now that he's been scowled at. Tommy's eyes involuntarily soften at the sight of the other man. Poor guy. He probably just spend a while working up the courage to approach him and here Tommy is fixing him with his resting bitch face.

"Hello." He greets the guy in English, trying to encourage him with a smile. "What's wrong?"

Big eyes stupidly blink back at Tommy for a second before they redirect their focus to the phone screen. The Estonian raises an eyebrow when the stranger starts to delete and re-type a text but otherwise uses the moment of distraction to get a good look at the man. The guy appears to be around Tommy's age, youthful face flushed slightly with a blush.

Pretty.....

The next thing he notices is the somewhat silly haircut the young adult is sporting. Tommy can admit that he somehow makes it work, though. And even if he didn't, the brunette would appreciate the eccentric hair anyways. Then he spots specks of neon green in between the black and when Tommy squints he realizes that they must be hearing aids. Aha. The man's behavior makes more sense now.

Is this train to Joensuu? Sorry if is a weird question, I never go there 😅

The deaf Finn still looks rather timid and Tommy surprises himself with the overwhelming feeling of wanting to comfort this cute guy. Must be the oversized black coat making him look extra small. As if Tommy could easily scoop him into his arms.

"Yeah, man. It's the third stop. I'm actually going there too." Tommy confirms, hoping it's enough to reassure the other man that there's no need to feel intimidated.

The small Finn seems....weirdly surprised. As if he didn't expect Tommy to actually answer him. Damn. Is his bitch face that bad? How many hot folks has he scared off with just his expression alone without even knowing it?

But then the stranger beams at him with such a sweet smile that Tommy involuntarily mirrors it, feeling his chest buzz with something warm and happy.

Thank you so much!! :D You are going to work in Joensuu?? :0

And where usually Tommy hates random small talk, with this guy he's very much eager to keep the conversation going.

"Eh, kind of?" The Estonian shrugs. "I mean, it is work but I'm not getting paid."

At the concerned frown on the stranger's face, Tommy hurries to clarify.

"It's an internship so-" The man doesn't seem to know that word, cocking his head to the side like a confused dog. "Ah, uhm, so I do work for a company but I'm not getting paid at the moment 'cause I'm not a real employee. It's just for experience, y'know?"

The small Finn makes a little noise as if to say oh. It's the first sound he's made so far and Tommy can't help but soak it up like a sponge. This guy is fucking cute, he can't deny it.

Experience is good yes yes but is shit that you not get money 😢

Tommy quirks a grin at that, amused by the stranger's bluntness. "Yeah, it is shit. But are you getting paid or you a poor intern like me?"

Delicate fingers fly across the keyboard, Tommy very much endeared by the other man's enthusiasm to conversate. He can't remember the last time he's had such a fun interaction with a random person.

I get paid! ^_^ Today is my first day as photo man 📸🔥

For a guy who doesn't speak, he sure is expressive. Tommy is quite enjoying the use of emojis.

"You're a photographer?" At the other man's nod, Tommy beams. "That's so cool!"

For a split second the deaf Finn looks genuinely surprised again, staring back at Tommy with wide eyes, before his lips also split into a wide grin. It's kind of funny how quickly things have progressed between them in less than 10 minutes. Just as Tommy is about to pipe up and say more, a distant honk alerts him that their ride is headed towards them.

"Train is here." The Estonian informs as he points to somewhere behind the guy.

The man turns his head, just for a second, and Tommy is painfully aware of how he immediately misses having those big blue eyes focused on him. There's just something about this stranger that draws him in.

The Finn in question seems oblivious, turning to face Tommy with that infectious smile of his.

Let's go!! 🏃💨

He dutifully follows after the shorter man as they head towards the train. People are steadily streaming into the wagons and Tommy tries not to smile when he feels the stranger press against him to avoid being shoved in all directions. The Estonian spots an open seat in the back and doesn't hesitate to sit down. His companion does seem a little unsure, though, likely wondering if it's okay to sit next to Tommy. If their interaction was just a one time thing.

The brunette pats the seat beside him with an inviting smile and it's enough to get the Finn to finally move.

Their shoulders brush against each other and it's rather surprising that Tommy doesn't immediately feel the urge to pull away like he always does whenever he has even the slightest physical contact with a stranger. With this guy it's very much welcome.

"Hey, what's your name?" Tommy gently nudges the smaller man by extending his hand once the chattering on the train has settled down. "I'm Tommy."

The stranger seems quite relieved by Tommy's introduction, eyebrows knitting together into a hopeful expression. He types something at lightning speed, holding up his phone so Tommy can read the message with one hand while the other takes the hand extended towards him. Very soft, the Estonian notes.

I'm Jere! :D

[gayashelljatp]

Jeremiah Fisher x Steven Conklin | Hush now, i know we're a little too fucked up to stay still, love

Tags: Drunken Shenanigans, One Shot, Flirting, Drunken Flirting, Underage Drinking, can be read as platonic or romantic, Jeremiah is responsible for the first time in his life, Steven is a drunk flirt, They kinda in love but kinda not, I was having fun writing this, Not Beta Read, Fluff, Short & Sweet.

Summary:

Steven has had a little too much to drink and Jeremiah is trying to get him to bed. Drunk shenanigans ensue. or Jeremiah and Steven drunk fic.

Content Rating: Teen and Up.

Wordcount: 1,076 

READ THIS FIC ON AO3

Notes (Same as On AO3):

Hi, it's my first fic in this fandom! I'm really excited to share all of The Summer I Turned Pretty fics I've had in my vault. I'm Ace I write mostly for Julie and The Phantoms on this account. But I'm branching out posting and writing gay shit for other fandoms.

In honor of season 2 of The Summer I Turned Pretty being out!!! Here's a cute fic where typically, Jere is the drunk one, but I decided to be unique and reverse the roles of Jere and Steven.

This was made around Valentine's Day, so I felt the cute vibes. Here are the songs that inspired this fic: 'Everytime' by Ariana Grande, 'The Night Is Still Young,' and 'Lowkey' by Niki are the biggest influences in this fic. The title of the fic is from 'Lowkey' by Niki.

(Here’s a Spotify playlist of this fic)

Enjoy the fic & Remember to give feedback!!! It is always appreciated.

Extra Notes (Tumblr Exclusive):

Present me so this my fanfic that has done really well on AO3. So I decided to post it on my Tumblr first. I don't know how to use this platform very well so a little help could go a long way.

It was a normal summer night in the Fisher's beach house: the Conklin and Fisher teens were split: into two groups. Belly and Conrad are at the pool talking for hours. Meanwhile, Steven and Jeremiah, both boys, we're getting drunk off their asses. Both enjoy each other's company.

Jeremiah, who has been trying to blackout less, was holding his mojito in his hand, trying not to down it in a second. Meanwhile, the Asian teen in front of him was drinking that up like water.

“Okay, buddy, that's enough,” Jeremiah says sweetly before grabbing the bottle off the table trying to get it out of Steven's reach.

“Jere, give it back,” Steven pleads as he tries to snatch the bottle back from Jeremiah's grasp. Steven pulls out all the stops and grabs Jeremiah's waist trying to get him still. Steven's face was not not situated underneath Jeremiah's chest.

That action alone stopped Jeremiah in his tracks. Soon redness starts to creep into his face. It covers the tan face: of the blonde boy. If this couldn't get any worse for Jeremiah he decided to look down. He locked eyes with Steven smiling dumbly at him. His eyes pierced through Jeremiah's soul, and his lips were parted, showing a few of his teeth. It was the most beautiful sight he's seen.

Jeremiah stutters, not knowing what to do or say next. He's never seen Steven smile at him like that before, and it was doing something to him. “Steven, it's time to stop drinking and get you to bed,”

“No!” Steven exclaimed loudly. Clearly, the boy was intoxicated to the point that he lost control of his volume. “Jere, I don't want this night to end,” Steven begs. He soon gets off Jeremiah and then stumbles back down on the couch. He reaches for his phone and starts playing random dance-pop music.

Steven then clumsily gets up and starts dancing offbeat to the song. He flailed his arms and shook his hips; it looked like he was in pure euphoria. “Dance with me,” Steven invites Jeremiah with the most intoxicating smile.

Jeremiah couldn't deny the invite. Maybe dance a little, then tuck the guy into bed. He puts away the bottle. Jeremiah takes Steven's hand, and they start rocking out. They laughed as their bodies intertwined. Jeremiah tried to dance more to the beat of the song. but his drunk best friend was still dancing to the rhythm of his own beat. Jeremiah couldn't lie, he looked kinda cute.

A few songs later, Both of them were tired of dancing. Steven decided to sit down: on the floor. Jeremiah then plops down on the floor to join him.

“Okay, I think that's enough fun for you,”

“There's never enough fun for me. Jere, don't be a buzzkill, please,” Steven pleads in a whiny tone. Steven desperately tried to convince the blonde boy to stay with that frowning face. But it was time for Jeremiah: to be the responsible one for the first time in his life.

“Steven, I’m serious, you need to go to bed,” Jeremiah whispers, trying to soothe the teen as he grabs the other boy's hand. Maybe if he was gentle enough, he could get Steven in his bed before sunrise. But that was going to be a challenge.

“The night is still young,”

“Steven, it’s almost 2. That’s not very young,” Jeremiah playfully says both of them laugh in tandem “Besides, you have a shift in the afternoon, So, time to get your ass to bed,” Jeremiah added with a frustrated huff. Jeremiah hated being the responsible one, but for Steven, he will gladly be the buzzkill.

“I don’t care about my job right now,” Steven says, slurring a few words before announcing very loudly, “Come and catch me!” Steven ran out of the living room like a maniac entering the backyard.

Jeremiah had no choice but to start chasing after his drunk best friend “Steven, come back!” He exclaims loudly. Damn Steven was faster than Jeremiah expected, He guessed being lean did pay off for something.

Jeremiah chased after him all around the massive Fisher’s backyard. Steven the whole time was spewing out random words while running. Jeremiah trailed him all the way back to the living room.

“Thanks for the workout buddy,” The blonde let out breathlessly. Steven hasn’t acted this rowdy since the first time he got really wasted, But when that happened they had the whole summer gang to deal with him.

“Like that one song ‘The Scripts’ sang, ‘I'm not moving.,” The boy added as he crossed his arms and stayed sat down. Only a drunk Steven could reference a song from 2008.

“Okay, Mr. I don’t care about my job. You don’t care right now, but Laurel will kill me if she sees you wasted in the living room,”

“The only way you're getting me off this floor is if you drag me out of here, I’m not budging,” Steven challenges. He knew there was no way Jeremiah was gonna do anything. But much to Steven’s surprise: Jeremiah got up and did start dragging Steven against the hardwood floor.

Steven was making the loudest noises and groaning while being dragged by Jere, but that all stopped. Because all of a sudden, Jeremiah picked him up bridal style and carried him up: to his room. Jeremiah didn't want to manhandle his friend, but he knew that nothing was gonna happen if he didn’t do it.

Jeremiah plops his best friend onto the carpet and proceeds to: fix the bed for him to lie in. After Jeremiah: was done preparing the bed for him. Jere pats the bedsheet and watches as Steven clumsily climbs onto the bed.

He then tries to tuck Steven into bed. Then the other boy wraps his arms around him. “Steven this is nice but let go I'm trying to tuck you in,”

“Stay please,” Steven croaks out. He sounded really desperate. Jeremiah couldn't really deny his best friend.

“Good night Steven,” Jeremiah whispers before he turns around and kisses Steven on the cheek. He didn't know why he did it but it just felt right at that moment.

Steven's face warms up. His drunken state didn't help but he was very flustered by that but he manages to say “Good night Jeremiah,”

The blonde boy closes his eyes and accepts his fate. Jeremiah lets Steven be the big spoon and cuddles him to sleep.

Post Notes: Hope you enjoy the fic & Remember to give feedback!!! It is always appreciated. I don't know how to use tumblr hope I used it correctly.

[greensolsikke]

Excuse me!! We moved on way too quickly on this! 😳😏

- the little wave and sassy head-tilting, side-eyeing the crowd and smirking (we cheered like crazy for him during his taping session before the gig)

- getting down on one knee, offering Jere his water

- drinking some before eventually handing the bottle to Jere

-edit: Slapping him on the chest/titty (how did I miss that on the initial post??)

- kissing his hand, planting the hand kiss on Jere's hand

- Jere's appreciative nod at the end

Jesse helping with a water bottle

Berlin 16.10.23

[kolsmikaelson]

hi can I request a Jeremiah fisher head canon for just like a soft movie night or smth with cuddling and snacks and yeah just a lot of fluff

movie night with jeremiah fisher headcanons

gif is not mine. full credit to owner.

follow my library blog, @rodrickhefley , to see the rest of my works.

word count - 476 | join my taglist | warnings - tooth rotting fluff + mentions of making out. not proofread.

a/n — this was such a cute idea, thank you for the request!!

do not copy or repost my works, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

— if it was going to be just the two of you, say you had a bad few days he’d make a big deal out of it to surprise you and hopefully cheer you up.

— he definitely has belly and conrad take you out to the beach for a few hours to make sure everything is perfect.

— he’d be so cute about it, he’ll set up all kinds of snacks and things for you and him.

— would have a pile of blankets and pillows and make a little fort for the two of you to cuddle up with.

— when you arrive back at the house, he’s waiting by the door with a goofy grin on his face.

— “c’mon babe, i’ve got something waiting for you.” you can hear the excitement in his voice.

— jere leads you up the stairs, hand in hand, before opening his bedroom door allowing you to see the makshift fort and snacks sprawled across his room, computer lying on his bed, with your favorite movie already opened, ready to be started.

— without saying anything you wrap your arms around his waist and utter your thanks into his chest.

— keeping his arms around you, he pulls you towards the fort, letting you get comfortable.

— if you weren’t feeling like watching your favorite, which you definitely were, he’d offer to let you pick a different one.

— definitely keeps his arm around you or his hand in yours the entire time.

— you stay cuddled up with him for so many hours just watching different movies.

— the two of you switch between picking movies, even if jeremiah does pick movies he knows that you’ll love.

— during some the two of you spend most of it giggling and making out.

— and you spend some time trying to throw skittles into each others mouth’s, mostly missing but having fun while doing it.

— “oh c’mon babe, you can do better than that.” he’d tease you when you missed.

—being thrown into a laughing fit after having to stop a movie to pick up the bowl of popcorn jeremiah accidentally knocked over.

- “jere oh my god, how did you even do that?” you’d ask through your laughter.

— and when you inevitably fall asleep, hours after starting the first movie, he turns the computer off, setting it out of the way, turns the lights out and pulls you impossibly close to him.

— he’d fall asleep with a smile set on his face, knowing he succeeded in cheering you up.

— it’s definitely not a night either of you would be forgetting.

— the next morning, you wake him up by peppering his face with kisses, “jere, wake up.” you poke at him.

— when he wakes up you thank him again for the night before, already making a plan in your head to do something similar for him the next time he was feeling down.

taglist — @hopexargent @liltimmyst @prettysummerbaby @madisontaxarn @pronsletss @fictionalho @ssprayberrythings

if your username is bolded that means i cannot tag you.

© joelsfarabees 2022

[oh-puffle-cakes19]

My Girl

Pairing - Jeremiah x reader

Summary - Jere getting hit on by his Ex, the reader is there to protect him!

Warnings - Angst (Swearing, fighting, Drinking)

A/N - Requested by @gillybear17 I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for all your love and support, I really appreciate feedback on my blog 🥰

Word count - 1K+

Late at night you, Jeremiah, Conrad and Belly all sneak out the house to this beach party every summer along with Steven.

The thrills of drinking, dancing and just having fun with other teenagers your age is amazing.

“Here, Babe,” Jere pasts you your first drink of the night, he wraps his arm around your shoulder as you both talk to others.

“Thanks,” giving him a kiss on the cheek, as you take a sip. Belly comes up giggling as usual.

“Oh, hey Belly, are you having fun?” You grin at her.

“Yes,” She giggles more as Conrad rushes to her wrapping his arms around her waist, “Oh, my Conrad you have to stop scaring the crap out of me,”

“I like to scare you,” he teases back, kissing her.

“You nearly, made her drop her drink,” You laugh harder, Jeremiah joining into the conversation.

“We should go on another double date,” you smirked at Belly knowing it was so much fun.

“Yh, it was so much fun last time,” The boys groan, playfully at your girl gossip.

“Hey, you try to be me, Jeremiah,” you playfully smack his chest. He laughs holding you tighter.

“Mm, gladly Darling,”

“Are you excited for the volley ball tournament, next week!” You exclaim to Belly.

“Yh, it’s going to be lit,” she nods, taking another sip of her drink.

“I just know that these boys are going to be,” You start off, playfully rolling your eyes.

“competitive,” You and Belly giggle together.

“Says you two,” Jeremiah and Conrad gush.

“Just remembering when we play chicken, gives me a headache. They be screaming so much,” Conrad complains, Jeremiah agreeing.

“Or when They had that outfit competition,” Jere shares back another time.

“Do not get them started on that one, they were at it for days!” Conrad chuckles, shaking his head as he sips on his drink.

Jeremiah nods, drinking too.

You and Belly making sure to get back at them later, but right now just want to hear their playful banter about you two.

“We aren’t that bad,” You and Belly pout but breaking through with a snort.

🧋

Conrad and Belly go somewhere else on the beach mixing with other people, as you and Jeremiah do the same.

Jeremiah and you start to dance, laughing spontaneously to the beat of the music. It’s quite fun to dance with Jere, he can pop his hips up and down in no time.

It didn’t last for long as a certain someone among the crowd of teenagers got super jealous. The girl approached Jeremiah like he was single, not even dancing with someone.

“Hey, Jere,” She try’s to get his attention, “You look hot tonight, mind if I dance with you,” she winks, patting his shoulder.

Jere turns around to this “unknown girl” looking at him. “Um, do I know you?” Jere acted dumb, “I’ve got a girlfriend,” he walked away, leaving his ex shocked. He notices you haven’t even seen her because your now talking to Belly.

You always got distracted, especially when belly brings gossip! Jeremiah finds it quite adorable, he walks up to you wrapping a shoulder around you.

“Hey, stranger,” Jere teases, kissing your cheek.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, you know how I am.” You giggle, sipping another drink, “I would of told you but you was having fun dancing,”

“No, it’s totally fine,” he giggles back.

“I’m gonna find Conrad again, Let you be love birds,” Belly teases, waving bye as she walks off.

You and Jeremiah getting interrupted as a girl, you know about being Jere’s ex walks up.

“Hey, you didn’t dance with me! Hot stuff,” she try’s to wrap her arms around his shoulders, but you intervene.

“Hello, what the fuck! Do you think your playing at?” You shake your head, clearly mad, “Get your hands off, Bitch,”

You now standing in-front of Jere, holding his hand. you trying to hold back and not to push her but it’s difficult!

“I’m just getting back what is mine, honey,” she smirks, “You think your the one he wants,”

Before Jeremiah could have any say in this chaos. Your jumping in to smack her around the face, her falling to the ground.

It was the last straw, all the things she could say to you! She choose her words/actions the consequences follow through. 

Jeremiah’s eyes widen, “Enough with your bullshit, just because you are a jealous Bitch don’t mean you have to act ignorant!” You shout to her, she try’s to fight you but you got the upper hand.

Blocking all her weak attempts at tackling you. You try to hit her again but Jeremiah stops you.

“Stop, babe honestly! It isn’t worth the hassle with this bitch, E/N just stay away from me! I want nothing to do with you, I love Y/N,” Jeremiah defends you and him, taking your hand walking along the beach shore away from everything.

🧋

You look back seeing she gave up, walking off in another direction. Jeremiah and you walk in peace along the coast thinking of the chaos that just went down. It wasn’t too bad, could of been worse!

“Hey, are you ok,” Jeremiah asks, squishing your hand to comfort you, “I know that you got pissed because my shitty ex but honestly, I turned her down. For some reason she came back,”

“I’m ok, I know you did. Thank you for defending me too! Are you?” You cut him up, sighing.

“Yh, Thanks to! If it was your ex then I would of protect you too,” Jeremiah gives you a smile, you giggle.

“What, Pretty girl?” He laughs

“Nothing, just your adorable,” you smile

Jeremiah stops, taking your hand in his. Looking at you in your gorgeous eyes, “Your adorable too, Darling,” He leans in kissing you passionately on your soft, tender lips.

You wrap your arms around his neck as he does the same but around your waist. You pull him more deepening the kiss, slipping your tongue in his mouth.

“Mm, your such a good kisser,” Jere flirted, in between kisses giggling.

“So,” kiss, “are,” kiss, “You,” kiss, giggling back!

“Let’s go home, I’m so down for cuddles with you!” You nod, getting into his Jeep going back home.

🧋

You sneak back into the house, guessing the others at still at the party. It’s around 1 am, which is still early. It’s nice to have time with Jeremiah like this thou, all cuddly and cosy with you.

Your now under the covers with Jeremiah, giggling.

“You know, Your My Girl right?” Jeremiah kisses you, pulling you closer into his arms.

“Yes, your My Man,” you tease back, kissing his nose.

“Did you mean it?” You questioned to face him, “when you said you love me?”

“Of course, I love every inch of you Y/N,” Jeremiah confirms, kissing away at you.

“Mm, I love you too Jeremiah,” You kiss him back harder.

Jeremiah softly strokes your hair as you fall asleep on his bare, toned chest, he thinking of only you.

“Goodnight, sweetheart, sweet dreams my love,” Jere whispers, kissing your forehead.

“Night Jere Bear, Sweet dreams,” you mumble, smiling at his words.

The others coming back from the party, wondering where you were. As they thought, they see you and Jeremiah tucked up asleep in bed together.

Happy for the both of you!





[nowimyurdaisy]

Can you write where Fem reader and Jere together and she came out of an abusive relationship so when they are taking things further she panics and he comforts her?

so, i'm not sure if this is what you wanted but. enjoy! (and this is actually the first thing i've been able to write in a while so thank you anon!!) ❤️❤️❤️

 -✧⬝✧⬝✧⬝✧⬝✧-

he knew about your previous relationship and that asshole ex-boyfriend of yours. so he took things slow, not wanting to rush you into anything, always so cautious which you appreciated.

and he never means to push you or go outside your comfort zone. but one day jere started using the word "we" when he talked about their weekend plans then even through in a "we" when he said something about the 2 of yours future. and you panicked. panicked thinking about how this relationship is taking a serious turn. sure your only 18, young for a relationship.

all these thoughts flooding through your head that you had kind of zoned out. "babe? babe?" jere asked concern written on his face.

"oh yea fine, totally what were we talking about?" you asked, unaware of the very panicked look on your face.

"just what pet we would get if we..." he trailed off. a beat of sweat ran down your forehead. "ohmygosh, this is too much isn't it?" his voice panicked now, "oh i hadn't even thought of that." jere let out a faint nervous chuckle.

"no, no, i'm fine really" you gave a nervous smile.

"no, you're not, y/n/n. i'm so sorry i wasn't even thinking about how frightening this kind of conversation could be for someone" jere rushed out. then he pulled you into his chest. you inhaled the smell of his cologne, the perfect mix of mint, flowers, and the salt air from the beach.

"we don't have to keep having this conversation, we can talk about the beach or school or something stupid" jere suggested nervously, tracing his fingers along your arm in a heart shape.

you smiled to yourself, jere isn't anything like your ex, he is someone you could actually see yourself with in the future and a future with him didnt scare you like it did with your ex. "no jere, I actually really do like this subject of conversation" you smiled.

jeremiah smiled back, "okay. I love you y/n l/n"

with no hesitation you responded back, "i love you too jeremiah fisher" you laid there in his arms and said, "now, if we got a pet it'd have to be something exotic! or oooo a penguin!!"

he laughed, such a sweet sound, and you laughed with him. "i think keeping one as a pet is illegal" you pouted, then burst out into laughter.

damn you jeremiah fisher, you thought, smiling. \

 -✧⬝✧⬝✧⬝✧⬝✧-

taglist: @http.ily @http-ilysm @peneluvsprongs @bigassnocash @buckys2thicc @xtom-darling-x17darling @crazylokonugget @a-nyds-stuff @almostcontentcreator

[saucyjothoughts]

You rang, dearest?

(Hockey jersey saga here, here, and here.)

(nsfw under the cut)

So firstly, we're all picturing Bojan in the Pasivision jersey that Jere gave him in Liverpool, right? The one he used to wear for their facetime dates that he now sleeps in whenever he's missing him and makes Jere wear every time they meet up so that it smells of him all the time? The one that reminds him their bond was never only about Liverpool and never only about music, as well as reminding him about Jere's sportsman's thighs and slamming/getting slammed against walls? That one?

He always brings it when they get the chance to meet up in person hoping Jere will rub it on his pits and spray it with his cologne. But that isn't what Jere wants. Jere wants to see Bojan wearing it, to see his own name across Bojan's body, to see how small and precious and soft he looks in his clothes. It's not just a gift, but a way of marking his Bojan with a little bit of his team, a little bit of Finland. It's about ownership. When Bojan wears that jersey, he belongs to him, even if only the two of them know it. Even if it's only for a few hours.

With time so short and schedules so packed, maybe Jere's hair and chest and belly are still wet from his stage performance, he's still in his leathers and boots when Bojan finds him in just the hockey jersey and a pair of sweatpants. If Jere won't wear it, he can make it smell of him by rubbing their bodies together. Good enough.

So he forces Jere to sit and climbs into his lap.

Jere begs to be allowed to go and shower, feeling hot and disgusting after his performance, but - even with his makeup smudged - those bright blue eyes and wide smile give away what he really wants.

Bojan is in his lap, rolling his body against Jere's bare torso, lifting his arms to force Jere to hold him, to run his hands over the contours of Bojan's broad shoulders, muscular back, his slutty-soft little waist, all underneath the smooth fabric of his jersey.

He gets more forward every time they're together. Gone are the days where he tried to hide his interest, tentatively pushing at boundaries, every touch accompanied by a joke and a giggle. Now, his hips grind as an automatic reaction to being so close, his body remembering how good Jere feels against him, all over him, inside him.

Clothes are in the way but Jere feels it too - remembering the excitement and intimacy of having Bojan underneath him, making him pout and plead, watching his expression warp when he's desperate to get something in his mouth, and listening to the noises he makes when Jere touches him like that. These are the details that they pray will never fade no matter how long they have to be apart; the details that keep them feeling close to each other when two thousand kilometres stand between them.

Jere pushes his hips up against Bojan's, still in his leathers, still sweating. His hands are on Bojan's thighs now, delicious and powerful under his sweatpants. Jere would very much like to throw those thighs over his shoulders. But for now, he'll just appreciate how Bojan's cock strains against the fabric as the two of them roll and grind together.

Ok, just one more and I'll go to sleep.

✨Hockey jersey and dry humping✨

😮‍💨

Paging @saucyjothoughts this is above my pay grade jfc

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 10 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter ten 

~|Emily Fox|~

I see Charlie again on Thursday and Friday. He sorts the invoices since he’s the pro at deciphering Ash’s handwriting while I clean up anything that’s askew and sweep the floor. We steal glances every now and again, but neither of us says anything. We just smile at each other, knowing exactly what we want to do, but not daring to do so. Maybe for now, the knowing is enough. On Saturday evening, he brings the boys with him, just as he promised on Wednesday. It’s an hour before closing time, so they have to keep themselves busy while I handle the very last few customers. Which they do by keeping their eyes on me and laughing at my customer-service-tactics. Balling up the fists, the fake laughs, the straining against the eyeroll. “There you go,” I say to a middle-aged man, shopping with his son for some essentials for his guitar. “Have a nice day. Bye!” My smile immediately vanishes as soon as the customers have turned their backs to me, which sends the boys into a laughing fit. Now I don’t hold back rolling my eyes. “Can you guys not? A girl’s working!” They immediately shut up, trying to keep straight faces. “You might want to tell her the same,” Jeremy says, pointing to the guitar section where a young girl is reaching for a guitar that’s way too high up for her, meaning she’ll probably drop it from five foot high. “Don’t touch the instruments without supervision!” I yell, causing the girl to turn her head. Her eyes widen, like a deer in headlights. When I approach her, I recognize her as Kayla. The girl who’d asked me for piano lessons. “Oh, hey Kayla!” I greet with a smile. “Changing instruments?” I reach for the one she wanted. “Yeah, he said he was going to teach me,” she points at Jeremy who’s now the one that looks like a deer caught in headlights. I raise my eyebrow at him while he slowly collapses in shame. “Jeremy, really? This is a fourteen-year-old girl!” He now raises his hands, going for the defense. “It was meant to be purely professional!” “Nothing is ever professional with you,” Charlie chimes in, agreeing with me. I glance at him, and we exchange smiles, the ones we’ve been sharing for an entire week now. “Kayla, sweetie,” I turn back to the young girl when I’ve recomposed myself, “Don’t take guitar lessons from complete strangers. Especially not when they’re named Jeremy Shada, okay?” Kayla nods her head ferociously and leaves the shop at once. “A fourteen-year-old, Jere? Really?” Owen asks now that the little girl’s gone. “You guys are acting as if I’d do something bad to her. I swear I was going to teach her how to play the guitar,” his bandmates stare at him with raised eyebrows. “And I didn’t know she was only fourteen…” The words come out in just above a whisper. I shake my head at the boys and then check my watch. Closing time. Perfect. I walk over to the door and turn the little board at the window. “So, Emily…” Owen starts as the three boys hop off the piano they’d been sitting on. “When are you going to join our band?” I instantly glare at Charlie, telling him off for telling them. “I didn’t say anything, I promise,” he says, hands up. “Say what?” Jeremy wants to know. I take a deep breath and let it out into a sigh. “That’s she’s thinking about joining the band,” Charlie admits. The boys erupt into cheers, and Jeremy even wraps me up into a hug, almost the same way Charlie did earlier this week. Only less “I want to kiss you” vibes. “I’m thinking about it. Don’t get your hopes up,” I warn them but can’t help smiling either. It warms my heart to see how excited they are to have me in their band. “There’s one way to try and convince her,” Charlie suddenly says with a teasing smirk on his face. He walks past me and towards the electric guitars where he grabs one. “Cables?” he asks me, and I point to a wooden chest behind him where we keep all of our cables for amps and stuff. He sets up his guitar, tunes it a little, then plays a sick riff I’d heard before. I go to grab all the other equipment from the back, three microphones and stands for each of them, while Jeremy grabs a bass and Owen takes a seat behind the displayed drums. They help me set up the microphones and they’re good to go. Charlie plays the riff again, then Owen counts them in and they’re off singing Now or Never again. I watch them while I start cleaning up what’s left to clean up. I sing along every now and then when I remember the lyrics from the Open Mic Night. By the time they hit the bridge, I’m sweeping near Jeremy, and decide to surprise the boys. “We ain't searching for tomorrow,” Owen sings, and I take this as my cue to move closer to Jeremy – and his mic and sing the echo with him. “Tomorrow,” All three the boys look at me with surprise, but that doesn’t stop us. “'Cause we got all we need today,” goes Owen again. And then Jeremy and I echo together, “Today.” “Living on a feeling that's been running through our veins” Charlie sings without taking his eyes off me and without wiping that smile off his face. Jeremy now steps aside, leaving me to have my favorite line in the entire song. “We're the revolution that's been singing in the rain!” For the last chorus, all four of us begin clapping, like they did on Open Mic night. To finish it off, Jeremy, Owen and I take care of the backing vocals for Charlie.   “Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we Hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never It's now or never” The three boys pant a little after giving their all while I continue sweeping as if nothing even happened. Although, I can’t hide the smirk that’s tugging on my lips. “Wow, that girl can sing!” Jeremy compliments me with a little smile. “Emily,” Charlie’s voice beckons me to look up, “Please, join Sunset Curve?” “Still thinking about it,” I tell him, but I already know I want to. Jamming with these boys feels amazing and I’d do it forever if it wasn’t for my uncle. I need to figure out how I’m going to be okay with singing and writing music with other people. Until I do, I’m going to keep them in a little bit of agony. “Come on, Emmy?” The nickname rips my heart out, even if it’s coming from Charlie’s mouth. “Don’t call me that,” I snarl, startling him a little. I shut my eyes for a second. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s my default reaction to hearing that nickname when it’s from the wrong person. “Sorry, but please, don’t call me that. Anything but that.” I send him a knowing look, hoping that’ll say enough about the why. “Sorry…” he whispers, then wets his lips before continuing, “But Ems, we just rocked that with you. Have we really not convinced you yet?” He has that same puppy-dog-eyes look on his face. Does he know how much that has an effect on me and is he doing it on purpose, or? “Give me a week, okay? I just need to find a way to be okay with… You know…” Charlie nods his head, respecting my decision. I offer him an appreciative smile, hoping that would do. “No, I don’t know. Okay with what?” Jeremy earns a slap on the arm from Owen on that one. “Do you ever think some things aren’t your business?” The dark haired boy simply shrugs. “Hey, why don’t you guys let me hear that new song of yours? Finally Free? I heard it’s good,” I glance at Charlie for the last part, and exchange a smirk with him. He knows. We both know. “Uhm, sure?” Owen says, seemingly confused. “Version two, guys, don’t forget,” Charlie tells them just before Owen counts them in and they’re off playing the song. It sounds amazing. Such a fun song when you add the drums, bass and electric feel of the guitar rather than the acoustic guitar Charlie played it on for me. While I clean up the rest of the store, I mime the song along for as far as I still remember it, hoping the boys won’t see so I don’t have to sing along with them. What I do show them are my killer dance moves with the broom, which really does make them laugh. “That sounds awesome, you guys!” I say excitedly when they’ve finished. Charlie places his guitar on the stand, calling in a break. “I think Sunset Curve might have a hit with that one.” The boys all give me a shy smile as they all gather at the piano again, having ditched their instruments. “Now you,” it almost sounds like a dare. “Now me what?” I ask, keeping my eyes on him. “Show me your song!” The boy sounds way too excited and looks the part too. With his eyes wide and his smile nearly reaching his eyes. I glance from Charlie to Owen to Jeremy and back. “I mean, it’s not really fi—” Owen interrupts my excuse by coming up with one of his own. “Who’s hungry? I’m hungry! Jeremy, let’s get some food for all of us!” Without even asking us what we’d want for dinner, Owen grabs a hold of his best friend and yanks him towards the door and out the store, leaving Charlie and I to our devices. “Will you play it for me now?” he asks, a bit more careful than before as if not wanting to overstep anything. I swallow a nervous lump in my throat before nodding and going to grab my songbook. I place all the loose papers onto the piano and then turn to him. “Grab your guitar,” I order sweetly. The boy obeys and quickly grabs the black Fender from the wall. “Remember what you played the other day when we kind of wrote it together?” He simply nods his head before starting to play the chords he did that first day of writing together. He stands beside me, our shoulders touching, as we look at the song on paper. Then Charlie starts singing, his voice sending shivers throughout my entire body. “Step into my world Bittersweet love story about a girl Shook me to the core Voice like an angel, I've never heard before.” I take a deep breath and start singing my part of the first verse. “Here in front of me Shining so much brighter than I have ever seen Life can be so mean But when he goes I know he doesn't leave” A soft beat and a melody sounds through my mind now, intertwined with the sound of his guitar. Just as our voices intertwine too during the chorus. Like the perfect harmony. “The truth is finally breaking through Two worlds collide when I'm with you Our voices rise and soar so high We come to life when we're” I turn to him, finding myself confident enough not to stare at the papers. “In perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony” Charlie smiles down at me with the brightest smile on his face. He, too, feels confident enough to sing without looking at the lyrics. “You set me free,” he sings, not taking his eyes off me. “You and me together is more than chemistry.” Without realizing it, I take a step closer towards him. “Love me as I am I'll hold your music here inside my hands We say we're friends, we play pretend You're more to me, we're everything Our voices rise and soar so high We come to life when we're In perfect harmony” Charlie places his guitar on the piano, letting the melody and rhythm inside our minds guide us instead as we walk around the piano, each in different directions until we’re on opposite sides, looking at each other. “Woah, woah Perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony” I lean forward on the piano as I sing the first line in the bridge. “I feel your rhythm in my heart, yeah” Charlie walks the other half of the piano, quickly this time, until he’s reached me. “You are my brightest, burning star, woah-woah” I place my hands on his chest as he inches closer. “I never knew a love so real” “So real,” Charlie echoes, pressing his forehead to mine. “We're heaven on earth, melody and words When we are together we're In perfect harmony” I step back slightly, offering him a teasing smirk more so because I’m not ready for what’s about to happen next. “Woah, woah Perfect harmony Woah, woah Perfect harmony” He takes my hand in his and pulls me towards him again. My hands find their way to his chest again while he places his on my waist. “We say we're friends We play pretend You're more to me We create a perfect harmony” The music in our minds has stopped. All that’s left now is our panting breath and beating hearts. Tingles erupt in my body, going from my head all the way down to my toes. I know what’s going to happen and for once, my brain isn’t telling me to pull away or abort the mission. For once, it’s silent. And then Charlie kisses me, and an entire orchestra breaks up the silence in my mind. “I’m seeing fireworks!” Jeremy’s voice makes us break apart, but we don’t go too far. Just our lips disconnect. “Are you seeing fireworks?” Owen nods his head in agreement with his best friend. “Because I’m seeing all the fireworks!” If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the dude is high. I shake my head at Jeremy and turn back to Charlie, who’s already looking down at me. This feels right. This feels like how it should be. All the planets aligned. Just perfectly right.

Taglist: @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @hannahhistorian92 @gingerxarmy @marinettepotterandplagg​ @lovesanimals​ Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

[fnaficsfordays]

Long Days Are Better Spent Together

AO3 Link

Word Count: 2074

No warnings!

----------

Michael dropped the duffel bag onto the floor with a resounding thump, the items inside clattering. With a groan, he tossed off his cap, the stiff felt material landing next to a large glass terrarium. Eyes trailing over the creature inside, his irritation drifted away, face perking up into a light smile at the sight of the shell inside.

“Hey, Bonbon.” He muttered with a tired sigh, reaching a hand in and stroking the smooth spiral about the size of his fist. There was no response, but calm slowly began to wash over him as he retracted his fingers. “Not feelin’ active today either, huh?”

A quiet series of crackling clicks further down the hall turned Michael’s attention away, regaining his pace through the rest of the house. As he approached the kitchen, floor hardening into tiles beneath his feet, a light hum began to float through the air, soft and cautious. It was as if they were afraid of extending their vocal chords to anyone beyond themself- but the thought only made a prickle of warmth come to his chest.

He turned the corner, smile widening at the person standing in front of the stove, fiddling with the heat knobs and placing down a large pan. The slight frown of concentration was clear on their face, spikes of blond hair standing upright on their head. Their eyes stayed fixed on the marble countertop even as he neared, steps barely audible over their humming.

At the last possible second, Michael brushed a hand over the tips of their hair, watching them stiffen. Their gaze snapped towards him, panic flaring up for a split second before dissipating with a sharp exhale. A snicker escaped him as they rolled their eyes, stifling a curse.

“Fucking- I tell you not to sneak up on me.” Scott pinched the bridge of his nose, despite his glare falling short. His smirk only grew as he stood next to him, glancing at the ingredients on the table.

“Sure you do. What’s cooking?” Their shoulders brushed, hand drifting back up to his hair. “Or have you not decided yet?”

“...No.”

“Give it time, something’ll show up.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I’m too hungry yet anyways. Less the others are.”

“They’ll be hungry by the time this is done. It’s nearing dusk.” Scott bit his lip, barely seeming to notice his fingers running through the light tufts. “And no, we’re not doing takeout again. Vincent gets sick of chinese way too easily.”

“Wasn’t suggesting it, calm down.” He chuckled. Leaning in closer, Michael pressed his lips against his cheek for a split second, pulling away with a glimmer in his eyes. “Could ask Jeremy if he’s willing to help, he always sees ideas online.”

“And they always need ingredients we don’t have.” He murmured. But he could see the faint dusting of pink across his face, coloring his tan skin.

“I’m sure he’ll have something. Just go on, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. As long as Vince doesn’t tag along as well, the kitchen’ll stay intact.”

That got a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Believe me, I think we all know that too well.”

“It never happened again!” The sudden call carried through another hallway, indignant yet sparkling with amusement. A different giggle, soft and shy, followed it.

“Doesn’t mean we still don’t have a broken cabinet now!” Scott yelled back, rolling his eyes with a huff. “Christ.”

“I’ll go ask them what they want. Take a second or two.” Michael let his arm fall back down to his side, warmth still prickling inside as he walked towards the rest of the house. He pushed open a door, eyebrows raising as he glanced inside. "And you know that that's not entirely true."

"It was the only time it left lasting damage! Sue me." Vincent threw up his hands from where he lay on the bed, silver eyes gleaming. "It's not like it wasn't a natural course of action, anyways."

"Barely."

"The point still stands."

Another giggle alerted him to the other person in the room, their head nested in the crook of his neck, curly hair flat against the pillow. Their arm was hugging him tightly, smile wide on their cheeks. "It was only a natural course of action because you got startled by the oven timer and dropped the knife."

"Hey! Could've been one of us instead of the countertop. I call it lucky." He threw his signature grin, pulling Jeremy closer. "Tables can't feel pain."

"I'm sure the table's glad to hear how little you appreciate its dutiful existence."

“Hush it.” He tossed a pillow at him, which he caught easily. “How was the shift?”

“Surprisingly menial. They only moved from the stage twice.” Michael sat down next to them on the bed, sinking down into the sheets with a sigh. “Mainly just had to deal with Foxy being twitchy, but not much.”

“How lovely it is to have just a single deranged furry animatronic chasing your boyfriend instead of several.” Vincent snorted.

“‘Chase’ would imply that I moved at all from the office.” He flicked his ear with a smirk. “And Jere, Scott’s starting dinner right now if you feel like giving suggestions.”

“Already?” He perked up from the mattress. “Ooh, did he have anything already planned?”

“If he did then I wouldn’t have told you.”

“Yeah, yeah… Oh! I could go ahead and show him the pasta bake I found!” Jeremy was already standing up, gaze glittering as he walked towards the doorway. “All it needs is some tomatoes, spinach, chicken…”

“Well, hopefully that one works out for once.” Vincent stared fondly after him, grin fading into something more relaxed. “One of these days we’ve gotta surprise him by getting all the ingredients for one of the super complicated ones.”

“Bold of you to assume Scott hasn’t thought of that already.” Michael leaned gladly into his caressing hand. “He definitely feels guilty that he’s only been able to do a few. Just you wait.”

“Jeremy can make anyone feel guilty. Don’t you say that you can resist.”

“Never did.”

-----

“You’re sure that’s all the things we need.”

He crossed his arms up at him, dark brown eyes in a pouting glare. “I just checked the fridge! That’s it, and we have it all right here. Cheese, mayo, chicken, spinach, tomatoes, sauce, and dried pasta. They’re even the same shape!”

Scott hefted a sigh, feeling his face lift into a smile. “I guess for once we can make it.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying this entire time.” He whined, swinging the refrigerator door shut. “Come on. It’s gonna take a little while.”

“Starting by boiling water?”

“You get water. I’m going to start frying the chicken.” Jeremy took out salt and pepper as well, letting the pantry swing shut with a foot. His fingers slid around neatly and nimbly, the seasonings speckling the meat. The fading sunlight fell across the cutting board, rays slicing on and around his arm as he worked, lips parted in a light concentration. “Make sure to add some salt to it too.”

He blinked, realizing the empty pot was still in his hands. Face flushing, Scott moved to fill it up, water pouring from the faucet.

Though he was more often than not in the kitchen for the others, he’d never felt completely comfortable with it. Never made anything completely from scratch, definitely, unless pancakes counted- but there wasn’t anything complex to that. Watching Jeremy’s swift movements in the orange glow from the window always got him too distracted on the rare occasions that they had everything necessary for a recipe- if either of the others were here right now, they’d have called it out without a second chance.

Scott suddenly stiffened as he began to pour in the salt, other hand freezing on the heat knob. Jeremy had leaned his head against his shoulder, still watching the chicken as it began to brown. He swallowed, forcing his hands to pick up the wooden spoon and start stirring. Neither moved at all.

Interesting, he thought that being in so many relationships was supposed to make him better at not getting embarrassed.

“Water’s boiling.” His voice gently interrupted his thoughts.

“Ah.” He reached across the stove, scooping up the box. The pale yellow noodles began to pour into the water, dropping in with the slightest noise. But as he continued to stir, his mind drifted off again.

The feeling of his soft mess of hair leaving Scott’s shoulder brought him back again. Now he was cutting up the chicken and tomatoes, the metal blade flashing silver with each slice. “Pasta should be cooked by now, I think.”

“It looks like it.” He drained away the boiling water, blinking at the steam that rose up in the sink. Before he could do anything, another set of fingers were wounding around the handles for him, prying the curled pasta away and sliding them out into a glass dish.

Scott didn’t fight it, only watching Jeremy mix everything together. He flowed so smoothly on his own, wooden spoon folding around the streaks of white and red. It all swirled into a creamy sauce, coating around the individual pieces. At last, he put it in the oven, pushing the door shut as the timer started to beep quietly.

With a satisfied smile, Jeremy stood back, tasting the leftover sauce still coating the spoon. “Tastes as good as it looks.”

“Well, I don’t doubt it.”

“Wanna try?”

“I… sure-?”

Before Scott could say anything else, he set down the spoon, suddenly facing him fully. His chin tilted up just a tad, eyes closing as he leaned closer-

And his lips pressed against his own.

He pulled away only a moment later, letting out a small giggle at his stunned face. “So, how’s it taste?”

His mouth was dry, swallowing roughly at his glowing expression. “I-I…” A shaky breath. “G-Good. It… It was good.”

His small fingers wrapped around his arm, head nuzzling into his shoulder. “You smell like coconut.”

“T-Tried a different shampoo.” Why did they always make it so hard to stop stuttering? “...You still smell like vanilla.”

“Mhm, I’m glad. Which smells sweeter?”

“Whichever one you’re using.”

“Aw.” He pressed against him more, skin warm. “I would’ve liked to say the other way around, but I guess we’ll never know.”

Before he could respond with another flustered retort, the oven timer suddenly rang out. Jeremy stepped away, opening up the oven and sliding the baking dish out. “Looks delicious. Come on, let’s go get the others.”

“I- Wait, we’re bringing it with us-?”

“‘Course we are. Come on!”

With a resigned sigh, Scott picked up the dish, the warm stream wafting through the air. Jeremy was nearly skipping as walking towards the hallway, smile still wide. Just as they reached the room, it faded into a slight smirk, leaning into the doorway. “Really?”

“I just got home, give me a break.” Michael barely lifted his head up from where he lay on the bed, arms wrapped around Vincent. His eyes were still half shut. “M’ tired.”

“Well, dinner’s ready, so better scoot over.” Jeremy slipped underneath the sheets as well, curling up besides Michael. “You’re warm.”

“So are you.” Vincent ruffled his hair. His gaze flicked up towards where Scott was still standing, eyebrows raising. “Get over here and love us.”

“...I’m carrying a baking dish full of pasta.”

“Your point?”

“It’s unhygienic.”

“Oh, come on, just set it down. We can eat right here.” Michael waved him over, starting to sit up on the mattress. “Not moving from this bed anyways.”

Rolling his eyes, he cleared away a relatively flat area, carefully placing it down. “Happy?”

“Almost.” Before he could move away, Vincent reached out a hand, fingers suddenly grasping around his tie and tugging him down. With an undignified yelp, he crashed onto the bed with them, barely aware of their laughter.

“Well, it’s not the first time we’ve gotten you into bed by the tie-”

“Shut it.” Scott flushed, crossing his arms. “Did we even bring utensils?”

“Right here.” Jeremy held up a couple of forks, grinning as he passed them out. “Come on. You love us.”

“You haven’t moved out yet.” Michael added, with a chuckle.

“Hmph… Maybe just a little.” But as he began to dig in, the warmth spread from his cheeks into his chest. Or maybe a lot.

[achieveandhunt]

live typing extra life 2019

warning: this a fucking LONG post. if you plan on reading it all, godspeed.

i typed all of this as it was happening on stream so this gets progressively less coherent as i grow more sleep deprived. prepare yourselves. i may or may not go off topic at some points

larry vehemently vomiting pure malic acid. we’re off to a great start

what the fuck the soggy ass popcorn in that ranch jesus christ

lindsay in the song from AH the musical. i love her so much

jeremy going YAAAAAAY after someone eats a cursed oreo

matt getting AGGRESSIVELY kissed by larry

“this kiss this kiss” before geoff and jack kiss

geoff “i’m from alabama” ramsey

THIS FUCKING RANCH SEGMENT HAS ME GAGGING

jeremy “the alcohol demon the whiskey goblin” dooley

alfredo “you wont believe what the white people did today” diaz

DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS GET THAT DICK ESSENCE

wait why does it sound like wonderwall

they look like characters from the matrix

the speaking parts. make my teeth hurt

in conclusion: they weren’t kidding abt the tight pants 

okay everyone get ready for eric soundboard spamming YEAH BABEY

“hi i’m from broadcast and i don’t want to be here” they represent themselves well

also, let’s take a second to appreciate broadcast here!! they have a really tough job and don’t get a ton of credit. lots of love to all of broadcast!!! you guys are awesome

i am: foreseeing problems with this eric sound board

which one is eric?? will the real eric please stand up?? was the real eric the one we found along the way??

“i’m... just really worried that i won’t ever find love-” “i really don’t care”

WHY DO THEY HAVE THAT ON THE SOUNDBOARD (what does that apply to? whatever it is you’re thinking of, but mostly “daddy wants some”)

ooh someone’s about to get a fReE tongue piercing from a pineapple

god dammit i went to the bathroom for thirty seconds and now they’re eating chad’s chest hair

owie the shock collar and belly slap look painful, but drinking natty light from a shoe? that’s a true punishment

“and this roast was brought to you by meundies”

ah yes what better way is there to end a segment than people throwing up

“man action” oh no

THROBERT MULVEINY

K A R B is blind in T W O of her eyes

“my last name is cottagecheese”

I HAVE A PIECE OF METAL SHOVED UP MY A S S 

chris has somehow managed to lose 23 years of age and roughly 412 pounds

“just open throat like baby bird” who the fuck is writing this and why is it jeremy

jon. jon you’re breathing in adam’s ass fumes

a summary of this segment: ass and cottage cheese

BARB IS HERE I REPEAT BARB IS HERE

“to fitness” -starts choking-

final fitness coach: tad, here to workout your issues so they can beat you into submission

“will you buy my wet” well i don’t see that on the raffle items

we’re back folks & i’m loving this walk around segment

moonball wall and gavin&michael will soon be reunited can we get an F in the chat

jeremy getting a borderlands tattoo is very on brand

what’s extra life without a little satan

“starvation army, putting lead back into paint, increasing childhood obesity” people in chat: TAKE MY MONEY

chris “i’m doing a different hole” demarais

ah yes. the game we all play in hell: twister

nobody edit chris getting mustard shot down his throat. i’m scarred enough from the original clip

oh fuck. oh god. the mayo. oh god what the fuck is up with the misuse of condiments this year

this just in: a human soul costs roughly $12,700

D̷̯͑̆̈́͝Õ̸̲͎̥̬͈̬̙͕̲G̸̢̧̠͉͚̙̲̙̓̔̀̇S̷̥̀́͆̈́̇̀ ̶̣̞̗͚̬̭̖̦͇̈́̎̈́̿̓̈́͆̒̋D̷̙̟̩̫͉̺̐̊̚Ö̶̥́̋́̓ͅĜ̵̞̌͋̏̉̌̕͝͝S̵̤̹̣̫̮̻͛̍̑̕͝͝ ̷̧̨̞̙̥̟̜͍̉̍̑̏̇̀̾D̴̻̮̩̯͓͉̖͎̘͐̒͋̓̉͝ͅỎ̶̰͓̳̥͑̅͛͊̒͐͊͘̚G̵̃̔��̻̦̥̠Ş̶̹͚̩̱͖̀͆͘ ̸̢̢͇̻͔̗̺̼͖̱̏̾̔̚D̴̨̨̫̙̃̾̋̾̆̓̓Ớ̷̡͓͎͊G̶̱̣̣̰̝̖̰̗̓͐̐̊͋̀͊̀̕͝Ş̷̩̺̬̖͙̺̟͗̈́͒͗̀̑́́̕͠ ̷̡͈̼̲͈̳̫̺̝̈́̋͌͗̒ͅD̸̨̬̞̪̗̘̄̑͆̿̈́͘͠͝O̸̡̡͇͕̻͎͍͉̅̌͗̄͌̑̉̔͂̎Ḡ̸͙̟̪̞̬̬͕͐̈̏S̶̝̪̼̮̠̜̭̳͖̘̑

urine: to help with aerodynamics

jon: maya, speak! maya: *the smallest arwoo*

today’s mvp: any dog. pick one. no matter which you pick, you’re right

how the fuck did blaine change back from satan so quickly

barb as a cat is... my new sleep paralysis demon

blaine: barbara speak! barbara: climate change is real

#dogsforkids

this just in: extra life killed my wifi

we’re back & kdin is in the business of killing people with spice. she is the spice queen

queue six thousand well-timed 1337 donations

HOLY SHIT THAT’S COLIN FROM WHOSE LINE IS IT ANYWAY

hmm “questionable liquids” is very... questionable

trevor: oh there’s four of them! we all get to join in the Fuckkkk

“what’s your favorite kind of candy” “any meat”

i like pickles and i would rather rip my eyebrows off than drink the juice so i feel for trevor

the only thing worse than drinking apple cider vinegar is shooting it out of your nose

“can you feel the love tonight” “i used to and that’s the problem”

“flubs every word man” damn, really missed the chance to say captain hair

jeremy not being able to intentionally flub his words is so fucking funny

OK BOOMER 

wow i can feel my blood pressure spike just watching these shots

Xavier Woods is here and he wants to know if it’s Christmas

miles doesn’t know what a question is

WHERE’S YOUR HAIR

oh no. oh no helping hands is next. everyone clear a splash zone

CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE

miles bossing around chef mike is priceless

“you leave that fucking dough on the floor”

“you wanna slam your hands down on the table” *pizza sauce goes flying everywhere*

HOEDOWN HOEDOWN HOEDOWN jesus why do i keep doing that

“If Colin Mochrie is listening, I’ll see you here next year” OH FUCK YEAH

--- this is when i take a break so my soul can return to my body (aka i have work to turn in. college will never not be a pain in my ass) ---

oh god dammit i missed all of Always Open. fuck college who needs a medical degree

so... we have some very interesting things happening in family feud and i’m not sure if i like any of them

hmm. is now the time to get drunk

oily twist feels very... ominous

what do you mean you don’t remember gandalf having a taser in lord of the rings?

someone in the chat said “big stupid sleeping thing is what my parents called me in high school”

i think i’m blacking out what’s going on i don’t remember the past two hours

ah yes. voldemort and snape having a talk show together sounds exactly like something J.K. Rowling would make a spinoff book or show or porno of

can we just talk about how much shit chris has been doing this year? what a guy. what a dude

“coldy with voldy” actually means getting knocked the fuck out cold because you only got three hours of sleep last night and you don’t want to miss chef mike and lindsay cooking

this snape poem is summarized by one phrase: “that was terrible sit the fuck down” (sorry chris)

“let’s destroy a weasley” enter chad

fucking called it

“you smell poor” i need a caffeine drip

heh the wheel spins are at 69 heh nice

i’m a grown ass woman

welcome to a section called: we torture chad for your entertainment

“who wants us to kill weasley?” *massive cheers from the audience*

“wait weasley step away from the wideshot so i can masturbate to this later”

“i’m not gonna rub my eye mom”

oh they’re really gonna kill chad on stream huh

i felt that chest slap in my soul

i think i felt my own ribs crack

oh fucking

tumblr deleted my thoughts on the fanfic section

alright. fine. brief summary: my teeth are burning

my mom lindsay is on next and i’m so excited but i’m nearing the point of loopiness so things will go downhill dramatically from here

this is my fucking fourth extra life, you would think i’d be smart enough to sleep the night before

LINDSAY LINDSAY LINDSAY THAT’S MY MOM

JEREMY JEREMY JERE- wait a second... did jeremy get taller

oH CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE

i hope Xavier comes back next year because he’s funny as fuck

m y a t t

oh god the mcdonald’s shade i’m rolling

lindsay “who’s the chef here” jones

chef mike mentioned mayo and i involuntarily gagged

chef mike clowning the big mac. i’m crying

he made the right choice with ryan bc i’ve seen his cooking stream(s) and it’s nothing if not great content

i heARD A MICHAEL JONES

“lindsay you haven’t done anything but warm up cookies so far” “yeah and?? you’re welcome”

you know that classic snack. slightly warm oreos

JEREMY THE LIQUOR GOBLIN DOOLEY IS BACK

oh god him screeching across set is making me cry laughing

why does it remind me of trevor’s voice cracks in the one minecraft ep where they’re singing the lion king

the biggest spoon for the smallest shot glass

i just realized we’re not even halfway through yet and i’m scared for the length of this list i’m gonna end up falling asleep involuntarily at some point

lindsay no your teeth are going to errode from that shot in your mouth

well timed leet donation #1829495

this gorden ramsey bit is so fucking good

jack: what do you think of the arugala? matt: i don’t even know what you said

iT’s NoT jUsT tWo CoOkIeS miCHeAL

jeremy and michael just chillin amidst the choas is exactly my demeanor at any party i’ve ever been to

lindsay scores: ryan = 7 because diet coke, matt = still eating lindsay’s meal so it’s a 10, xavier = also still eating it so it’s an 8. total: 25

“deep fry everything but a remote control”

chef mike scores: ryan = 9 for no death, matt = greens are present, words were said, score is 8. xavier = Gourmet Mcdonald’s, food is edible, score is 8. total: 25

oh fuck it’s a tie

now they fight to the death. death = doing as many shots as possible

i think we’re all going to need liver transplants after tonight

no jesus please don’t vomit oh goD oh fUc k please- oh thank god

okay i’m making a part two this is too much

[straythisway]

@jere-me--oh-my

He pulls the soaked shirt away from his chest and Majdala winces again. "Oh honey 'm sorry," she murmurs again, noddingntoward the back even as Jeremy cuts away, finishing up his service before heading into the back.

She's still muttering tonherself about it all when he returns, Majdala now on her hands and mopped up the coffee that hadn't been soaked up by her coworker's shirt. A glance up at the clap of his hands, and Majdala's furrowing her brow all over again.

"No, I'm fine. My own dumb fault, anyhow. Wasn't watchin' where I was goin' with that tray. Silly o' me, I know. Glad yah had a spare in th' back. How're th' tables lookin' your way? Almost free?"

She hopes so. Jeremy worked hard here, and she could appreciate that in a person. It'd taken her some time to bounce back, but it'd been nice to get into the monotony of it all again, after singing for so long.

Carry Out, Carry Away - Majere

[gumnut-logic]

Flying True optional epilogue

I was rereading the archived version of Flying True, one of my Fandomversary fics from a few months back and realised that while I had published the optional epilogue in both the archives, I never put it up here. At the time, I wasn’t sure it was needed and it opened up another possible WiP, but it was the most commented on part of the fic. So some of you may have read this before if you read my works on FF.net or Ao3, but f you only read here, have a little snippet (assuming I haven’t posted it before and my feeble brain has forgotten).

-o-o-o-

Stepping out into the night air was bracing and cold. The sky was clear, so the heat had been sucked out of the Earth and the air around it. Tropical islands didn’t do this. Despite himself, Scott shivered.

“Bit of a nasty low temperature tonight, sir.” Jeremy looked as unimpressed as Scott felt. Kayo had ordered every Tracy brother was to be accompanied by security at all times. Jeremy was on Scott tonight. Gerald at Virgil’s door and no doubt Iz was around somewhere, probably lurking in the shadows ready to appear when he least expected it.

Jeremy had been with IR since its inception.

“Sorry to have you out so late.”

The security guard shrugged. “Rather be out here with you than worried about you at home.”

“I’m sure Ilia and the kids appreciate that thought.”

Jeremy snorted. “Don’t you worry about them, sir. They get a good deal.”

Scott grinned. “Virgil enjoyed it as much as they did, don’t you worry.”

“How is he?” All joviality disappeared from the conversation.

“He will recover.”

“Sir, I wish you would reconsider having security staff on the Thunderbirds.”

Scott eyed him. It was a bone of contention amongst the brothers and Kayo. Perhaps it was due for a review.

“I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you, sir.” A pause. “I just can’t help but think that if myself or Iz or Gerald or any of our team had been aboard for that mission...well, sir, we would have been able to defend you.”

Scott sighed. “Jere-“

Something hit him in the chest.

Jeremy grabbed him and he was fast being dragged to cover beside one of the cars parked on the sidewalk.

“Sir, are you alright?”

A shadow appeared near the entrance to the hospital, an IR logo barely visible in the dark. Iz on silent feet. “I’m fine.”

A single piece of folded white paper lay on the pavement where he had been standing moments before.

“What is it?”

Another drifted into land beside it.

And another.

Within moments the air was full of paper planes, lazily cruising through the air to lie silent on the ground.

“What the hell?”

“Don’t touch them, sir.”

One landed at his feet.

“Sir-“

Scott reached down and gingerly picked up the plane. Barely touching it with his fingernails, he pulled and unfolded the little craft.

The IR logo had been printed on the sheet of paper.

A large red cross had been scribbled over it.

He stared at it.

The paper planes darted about landing in trees, in puddles, on the walkway leading into the hospital.

All ever so silent.

All bearing the vandalised IR logo.

Scott’s shoulders dropped and he sighed.

“Better get Kayo on the line.”

-o-o-o-